Who: Booker DeWitt, Neena Thurman What: Not talking about emotions. Work stuff. When: Recently. Where: Neena's apartment. Rating/Warnings: PG-13ish. Cursing, etc. It's them. Status: Complete!
Whatever had happened last night, Neena wasn’t calling it by any name but ‘fucking’. No matter how emotional it had gotten. The fact that he’d held her afterwards and called her a sap. That he’d kissed her gently instead of taking her mouth with his and he’d caressed at her skin like he was worshipping some goddess. None of that meant anything and it was still just pure, animal, no-strings passion.
No strings. Just like she liked it.
Yup.
Not a single goddamned string. And that’s how it was staying, as far as she was concerned.
So why was she making him breakfast?
“Fuck. This has got to stop,” she muttered, as she poked the eggs she was scrambling.
It was fucking. Just fucking. Nothing special. No emotions, no intensity, just good old fashioned mind-blowing sex.
There weren’t going to be strings. They’d agreed to that after their disastrous attempt at a genuine relationship a few years ago.
But now she was making him breakfast. Booker frowned. “Fuck.”
"It's just eggs. Don't read anything into it." Neena's tone was somewhere between a grumble and a growl, and she poked at the eggs again, lightly. She preferred her eggs scrambled, but the ones she was cooking at the moment looked over-easy. It was Booker's favorite way to start the day, and the other smells in the kitchen suggested there were sausages and toast for him, too.
And coffee. Her mug already had whiskey in it. She took a long swig of it, then grabbed a plate and served it up, "We need to fucking get a bounty soon before we get so bored with life that we start braiding each other's hair and talking about our emotions or some shit."
"But I'd look so pretty with a braid." Booker got up to pour himself some OJ, and stole a sausage in the process. Taking a bite, he added, "I think I have a lead."
"Yeah?" Neena raised her eyebrows a bit, trying not to hope too hard. They weren't hurting for money, really, so it wasn't like they were desperate. But she was definitely hurting for an adrenaline rush or some excitement. Settling down and playing Pawn Shop Owner just really wasn't for her.
She cracked some fresh eggs into a bowl and started whisking them together to make her own breakfast, "Is it a legit lead? We're not having the best of luck with those lately."
“I don’t know, came in about ten minutes ago.” Booker bit into the sausage again and savored the grease and flavor explosion in his mouth. “Figure we can check it out together. Some guy skipped out on his arraignment.”
"Ooo. That sounds promising."
Neena refilled her coffee mug and decided to skip the refill on the whiskey. If they were going to have a busy day she probably needed to be sober enough to shoot straight, "I love it when they think they can outrun us."
Booker’s nose wrinkled at the alcohol. He’d already gotten off the wagon once this week and it was beyond tempting to keep going. Just a little wouldn’t hurt. Would it? Nah…
“He has a few days head start but I think we can catch up to him easily enough,” Booker replied, grabbing a plate. “It’ll be fun.”
"Do we know what direction he was headed in? If we do, I might be able to call in some favors."
They'd made plenty of connections since they'd settled down in Orange County, and Neena was sure that one of them would be able to pull up the paper trail this idiot was likely to have left in his wake. She tossed her eggs into the skillet and added some dill, then grabbed up a sausage to snack on while she cooked, "Ooo. I cooked these just right."
“Down towards San Diego,” Booker replied, looking at his phone. He forwarded the email to Neena so that she’d be able to take a look at it. Then he stole another sausage. What man didn’t like sausage?
The sausages had been cooked up for him, anyway, so Neena didn't seem all that upset about it. In fact, she threw the rest of them onto a plate for them and moved her own eggs and coffee to the table.
One hand stabbed at eggs with a fork while her other hand pulled her laptop off a nearby chair and checked email, "Anything we do with our day has got to be better than this current trend of ours. Even if we lose him."
Aww yissss Sausage! Booker grinned and took a seat. “Yeah, it’s been getting a little stupidly boring lately. But I think we can catch the fucker off guard. Ain’t gonna be a problem.”
And their current trend was pretend there wasn’t emotions. HE was okay with that trend.
Their current trend wasn't just pretending there wasn't emotions. There was also the trend where they were sleeping with each other and not other people, and Neena wasn't okay with that. She needed another casual partner or two.
Not that sleeping with Booker was getting boring. That was at least half the problem.
"Should be nice and smooth. Maybe I'll even skip the gun and just bring a taser this time. That's how all the cool bounty hunters are doing it these days."
At least, it was how Alex was doing it, and Alex was having a grand old time. The idea of electrocuting some pansy criminal made Neena smirk a bit.
Booker was actively looking for partners who weren’t jail bait so shut up Neena.
“Electrocute someone? Sounds a little boring but if that’s what you want to do.” Booker preferred good old fashioned knee-capping and punching. Punching was best.
He finished his eggs and popped one more sausage into his mouth with a groan. He loved when Neena cooked breakfast….
He might have been, but he always ended up at Neena's door. And she was looking, but her other random lays were all content to settle down with someone else. More power to them.
"It's not boring. He's going to twitch a lot and shit his pants, and then I'm going to charge it up again and watch him drool on the floor until the police come."
It was sounding more and more fun the more she thought about it. She grinned evilly in fact as she grabbed another sausage, "I'll bring the real gun as a backup, yeah, but I'm really feeling the need to watch a guy drool and twitch. You just don't get that reaction as often with real bullets unless you nick a lung."
“The fucking things you get turned on by. I ain’t cleaning his pants an’ he ain’t gettin’ into my car like that. He can go into your car. Thurman.” Like nicking a guy’s lung didn’t seem to bother him at all.
Neena snerked, "Fuck you. The police will drag him off in his poopy pants and neither of us will have to clean it up. I'll tase him as much as I want and you don't have to concern yourself with what I get off on or not."
She wiped her fingers clean of sausage grease and finished off her eggs, then quickly got up from the table, "I'm gonna get some fucking clothing on. Try not to blow my kitchen up while I'm gone."
Being referred to as 'Thurman' really irked her, especially after those crappy dreams she'd had. It threw her off balance and made her feel emotions. She hated feeling emotions, they made her extremely cranky. She stomped down the hallway to the bedroom, then slammed the door.
“Long as you still come when I’m doin’ shit to you then I don’t rightly care,” Booker retorted. He walked over to the stove in order to finish off the bacon. Because bacon was a part of a heart-attack breakfast. He glared down the hallway. Then sighed and turned off the burner. Then sighed and waited. Then sighed and stomped down to the bedroom and knocked because it seemed like it was taking forever. Sigh. “Neena?”
"I'm fine!" She shouted through the door. She sounded like it, too. Maybe she was even telling the truth.
Either way, her door opened up a few seconds later. Since they were about to be on the hunt, Neena had dressed up a bit more like a professional. Nice grey pants, a button-down purple shirt (three buttons undone of course), and a grey coat over it that matched her pants. It was clear she was carrying a holster underneath it.
Just having a gun pressing next to her ribcage made her feel better, "Really. I'm fine. Just... dreams fucking shit up everywhere, like they do."
He looked her over like he was tempted to bend her over something, then sighed. “Lets drop by my place so I can get a few things, then we’ll go fuck over some guy’s day like the dreams fucked over our night. Sound good?”
"Sounds good," Neena replied, with a grin. It was the kind of grin she got on her face when they were about to take on a new hunt. A dangerous one, and that glint of trouble was back in her eyes, "Sounds real good."