Re: Log: The Cat - Cat/Matt
[To be fair? It wasn't the Russian Room that ruined Jack's chances. Oh, Cat was perfectly willing to have sex for the pleasure of itself. She was the kind of abuse victim that reclaimed their sexuality. Early, she'd taken back her own body, and she was hedonistic enough to enjoy a good tumble without emotions needing to be a factor. In fact, Cat liked it best when it was all selfish pleasure on both sides, a mad dash to take without apology. That explained her antics on rooftops and mid-heist, and she still adored that adrenaline chase best. So, not loving Jack? Wasn't a problem for Cat. And she didn't much care about emotionally damaging someone who loved her. After all, men didn't care about such things, and she didn't need to either. No, it was a combination of things with Jack, and the Russian Encounter just cast a level of new guardedness around the man she'd once shared literary verses with. But, Cat, she was accustomed to loss, and this was just another one to add to the already significant heap.
And there was trust in her willingness to go to Russia with Matt. After all, it was a vulnerability, wasn't it? Who knew how she'd react to being there. She didn't verbally say she trusted him, but the offer was indicative of that. As for her last very drunken evening? It had resulted in her chastely sharing a bed with Reece, and she couldn't even remember why she'd gotten drunk in the first place - Bruce? Sasha? Voodoo husbands? Stephanie? Helena? Who knew? Anyway, the weed helped it along, and she just chuckled at his question about being calm.] Life has been less than kind. [She didn't go into it more than that. She just waited to see if he accepted the non-answer. Matt? Matt usually accepted non-answers without persistence.
But, ah, of course Steve was different.] Did you know he had sex with some man at the art showing? He left my bed, and tumbled into his, and I'm not sure he's any different, Matt. [But there was no venom to her words. Oh, there was anger, because Cat lit like a wick doused in gasoline, but it wasn't hurt anger. Steve, whatever he'd done, hadn't injured her. She didn't love the man. She liked him well enough, but it wasn't love. And Cat was entirely annoyed at her own tendency to hold onto emotions long gone and long dead.]
Of course what Calvin did bothers me. At the end of the day, he made women suffer in order to remain alive himself. [Suffer and die.] Whatever the reason, he still did that. [Ah, there, a hiss. Cat, for all her flaws, would never torture another person to draw another day's breath.] He drew it out in order to survive. Of course that bothers me. [She took a few sharp drags off the rekindled joint.] But he's not his father. Let's say I'm giving him the benefit of the doubt, but I want his father's files, and I want to know what he's working on. [She held out the joint when he angrily grabbed for the bottle.] That's where you come in.