Sunday June 1st 2008
Who: Erin and Dante What: Tucson! Where: Tucson, AZ When: Early Sunday Morning (1am-ish) Rating: R for language
In reality, hiding all of the available towels and his clothes in a neat pile behind her on the bed was probably a childish plan. Though in plain sight, any approach to take them would be met with a bout of force that could knock a small horse two steps sideways. Erin couldn't create a force bubble around her, but she could send out a punch in any direction she pleased, and even count on Newton's third law to accompany her.
So when Dante walked out of the shower, presumably naked unless he had cleverly found a new use for the shower curtain, Erin lounged out in her expensive capris, pretty sandles, and white tank top across the bed.
"Explain. We're here now. Explain."
Not much had been said between Erin and Dante the past few days. They hadn't even had sex, were barely aware they shared a bed at night, so little was their communication. He imagined Erin had a lot to process, or maybe she was just looking for an escape route. Either way, it forced Dante to think too much, forced him to miss Roger and the stability he brought. Forced him to try and figure out what the hell his plan was from here.
Crossing the border into Arizona had been nerve wracking, but the moment they'd arrived in Tucson Dante's energies had almost completely wiped him out. He managed not to wrap Jessica around a tree (or rock, as there was still nothing out here on the highway), but he was not suave enough to make the sudden surge seamless. Surely Erin noticed.
Thankfully they'd gotten to the hotel before it had even gotten dark. Dante went right for the shower without a word, letting himself stand in the water for what felt like hours. It might have been hours. Who knew. Finally stepping out because he'd turned the water so low it was practically freezing, Dante reached to grab a towel and didn't find one. Didn't find his clothing, either. Brow furrowed, he stepped out into the room dripping on the carpet and sizzling in a few places. Water and electricity did not mix. He was about to ask Erin some smart-assed question about her stealing his clothes, but she beat him to the punch and his mouth clamped shut. She needed explaination? How much more did she require? He had to kill someone. Case closed.
Crossing his arms and leaning against the doorframe, not even the little bit uncomfortable in his nudity, Dante ran his tongue over his teeth, thinking. "What specifically do you wanna know?"
---
She didn't speak for a while, either to annoy him or because she was actually processing.
"What I have ascertained is that someone who knew the previous owner of your body saw you, assumed you were still... Mr. Dennison, and informed you that... you needed to finish killing someone. So. You were.... some sort of killing agent, yes? My question to you is why do you feel you need to finish this other person's job. Especially if this man with a gun didn't threaten you."
She arched one slim eyebrow. "Unless he did."
---
Grunting at her, because her pause had in fact annoyed him, Dante shook his head. "I told ya, he didn't threaten me. Didn't have to." He rubbed the back of his neck, recalling the conversation. "I don't really know all the details to it, it's just kinda... instinct. Whoever this Dennison guy worked for, you can't..." He sighed, running his hand over his short hair, water flicking onto the carpet. "I don't want to mess with them. I need to do it because they think I'm him. And if he fails, if I fail, then, well... they're gonna fucking kill me."
---
She frowned, obviously accepting this but not liking it. She lazily reached behind her for a towel.
"Plastic surgery seems easier."
She tossed it underhand.
---
Catching the towel with one hand, seemingly unaware his reflexes had grasped it effortlessly from the air, Dante frowned at Erin. "Been under the knife enough." He almost shuddered at the idea of laying on a cold steel table again while some madman sliced into him.
Drying himself off, Dante walked over to his bag to grab some clothing from it. Clean stuff even, just to pander to Erin a little for being so calm about all this. "So... anything else?" he asked casually. Like, you wanna freak out I'm about to murder someone or anything?
--
She licked her upper lip.
"No. I... " she took a slow breath. "Can I help?"
---
Help? Was she fucking serious? She wanted to help? What did she suggest, she hold the woman down while Dante slit her throat? He stared at her a moment, contemplating her stupidity. Of course, she wanted to help him mentally. She wanted to make him feel better. Well he wasn't going to feel better. This was fucked up and weird and he knew he wasn't going to be okay with it. He'd killed people before- three he was certain of, one that that was iffy. He'd left before bothering to find out if she was actually dead or not. But the other ones he'd revived. And now he had a damn conscience, and he'd have given his left nut not to have it anymore.
"You can just... not ask about where I go and what I do. You can stay here tomorrow and let me do whatever and not... get in trouble. You can do that, and it would help a fuckload."
---
The pauses between his words and her responses were long, but she couldn't help it. She was unsure of herself, and she hated this, and needed to swallow bile, practically, before speaking.
"If..." she licked her lips again, sitting up a little straighter on the bed. Her feet were bare, and she reached down to grab one an gently pull her leg under her. "If.. for whatever reason, I feel like my life is in danger.... I will probably leave."
She swallowed, unaware of her smirk, and shrugged one shoulder, causing dark wavy hair to fall over her shoulder.
"Probably."
---
Nodding, completely understanding, Dante did not speak for a moment. He stepped into a pair of boxers, pulled a tee shirt over his head. Not facing Erin, he rubbed his hands over his face. "If you wanted to go now, you could. I won't stop ya. I should't have brought you even, I just... need." Clearing his throat a little, he shrugged himself. "Stability. You know... Roger ain't really good in a crisis and you're all... cold." He was trying to sound complimentary without sounding weak, and he was not succeeding in the least.
---
To Erin's credit, she pretended only to notice the compliment, and lifted her chin with a little smug turn of her mouth.
"Well. I'm here now."
With a careful stretch she scooped up the remaining towels and placed them on the nightstand, leaving just her on the big bed, looking small and in need of company. She crossed her legs and held her ankles, yoga-posing, and shrugged over to him. Now what?
---
Looking back over his shoulder, Dante eyed the pretty ice demon carefully. She was here now. He wasn't sure why. He had thought that what he and Erin had together was just time wasting, spending time together and fucking because it was more fun than not. But slowly, at sometime, it had changed into something more real. And right now it was as real as it could get.
"Yes ma'am... you are here now." He stepped over to her, kneeled on the bed and crawled over to her, his muscled body covering hers. She was so small beneath him, so frail. He wondered if Sophie would be this small, this delicate. Eyes scanning her, a very slow, very small smile spread over his lips. "You sure are pretty for a crazy little girl," he said fondly. "What are you doin' here? Traipsin' across the country on the back of a bike with some rough and tumble, no good bastard..." A hand reached up to stroke her cheek, the back of his fingertips barely grazing her skin. "A hitman, no less. Mommy and daddy would be so disappointed." Leaning down, Dante nipped her bottom lip gently. "Or is that my appeal? I'm thinkin' you're gonna take off runnin', but maybe I'm just makin' you all moist for me."
---
Erin had invited him over him over with her posture, true, but when he sauntered toward her she felt her chest twitch. He was delicious; large, muscular, and now... clean. Yum. She eased backward as he eased onto her, and when his fingers touched her face, she pulled in a slow even breath, her piercing eyes on his, unmoving. She closed them only when his mouth was on hers. With a tiny noise at the sensation of his teeth on her lip, she reached up to cup her cool hand behind his still-damp neck.
"You'll never know," she said, grinning. Her hair spilled out behind her, a dark aura in contrast to her pale beautiful empty face. She smiled suddenly, wide and fierce. "I must maintain some mystery, after all."