letsallchant | Release Me, Dear Mistress

"It took a life span with no cell mate
with the long way back
Sandy, why can't we look the other way?"

-Evil, Interpol

Scooter is bald, squinty and red faced. Her reaction is setting him off even further. Maybe they'll get this one out of the way early.

"Bitch!"

"Whore bitch!" he corrected himself, thinking on it some more, "Man hater, dyke bitch"

"Oh, you, with the all the flattery and the compliments..." she smiled at him, gleeful amusement playing across her features. The feistier, ruder perps had always tickled her. He suspects it's a quirk left over from Vice.

She leaned into their suspect from behind, seductively invading his space, honey blond hair curtaining over them. "Now you know you're the only one man in this room I have those kind of feelings for." Her nasal twang became more pronounced, her voice enticingly deeper, huskier.

Goren and Scooter both felt a rush of unintended arousal. He loved when Eames played it like this, it was like watching a cat enticingly stalk it's prey. It was a side that he rarely saw of her, and if he admitted to himself, it always unsettled him.

Goren felt another rush as she made eye contact with him, deep hazel burning a hole into him, mind and body. Her message was silent and effective. She was waving the white flag. He lapped up this brief scrap of attention readily. This was good, he'd been lonely in this stifling isolation she'd put him in. It'd been 2 weeks, but it felt like an eternity, and he'd missed this. After the Stoat/Milago case, he knew he'd never leave her out in the cold again. Suddenly, as if in an epiphany, he suddenly knew how it felt, her loneliness, that burden on her heart. He'd broken something. He'd been afraid to allow himself to fully understand it at first. He hadn't picked up the pieces the way he knew he should've - it wasn't that he didn't want to, it was just unable to. But now, here she was doing it with him, helping him, as if she too, now understood, connected with him on an almost supernatural level.

This tugged at him incredibly hard, even hours later. Her love, her kindness at the most unexpected moments, her ability to mend the things he didn't know how to mend, these were things he held close to him. He'd repay her someday. It was a promise he'd hold to himself before his dying day. As for now, he had time to make use of the things she'd taught him.