Black Cat, Creed/Train, stalemate
Train's tongue was like that of a cat, Creed reflected idly - clever, and quickly darting out between lips that were ever so slightly swollen, without the least sign of hesitation or shame. There was a glimpse of amusement in Train's gaze as it met Creed's, too, something that was not quite mocking him, but came closer than that of anyone else Creed had allowed to continue living.
Of course, it would have been no fun at all if Train had actually feared him; still, Creed felt something of an impasse had been reached. Train wouldn't kill him, and Train knew Creed wouldn't kill him either (at least, not today) and yet in order for them to both get what they wanted, one of them would have to give.
"Aren't you going to finish what you started?" Creed asked, when Train lifted his head (the better to look at him, no doubt).
"Why don't you free my hands first?" Train suggested. "Then, we'll talk."