"What do I want?" Aidan echoed the question in an annoying fashion, meant to be somehow dramatic or theatrical. He spread his hands apart. "Many things. You'll see. In time. It won't be so bad. As long as you do what I want. And answer my questions." His lips curved down in a thoughtful little frown, pondering the problem of the drink. He couldn't never feed his captive after all, not unless he wanted a corpse in several days time. Food and drink would be a must.
"Aha!" His eyes lit when something clearly came to him and he left again, going into the bedroom. Moments later he reemerged, bypassing the living room for the kitchen to get another glass of water. This one he brought back out. He held it in one hand. In the other, he held a handgun.
Aidan was a perfect poster boy for why stronger gun control laws were needed.
"I'll give you a drink," he said, sliding the safety off. "And if you do anything funny, I'll shoot you."