trenchknives | Open Post

Ange, there's absolutely no way that's true. I was a little terror. A little terror with a real shitty haircut, too.

Yeah, I'm pretty sure I was three times worse than that. [Finally, she lets go of him, sitting back so she can slide down halfway in her chair, looking like she doesn't have a care in the world.] Minus the shitty hair, though.

Yeah, I can't imagine you with shitty hair. You've probably always been fuckin' gorgeous.

[That's not even said in a flirtatious way, just as a statement of fact. He's sad for her to let go of him, though -- he's always liked human contact.]

Yeah, I totally have been. It's the burden I bear.

[She nods without a bit of shame in her grin and pours him more whiskey before splashing a bit into her glass.]

Hey, I'm not complainin'. Besides, I like to think I look pretty good these days myself.

[He's not ashamed of bragging, either.]

[She points to him, finger moving up and down, from around her glass.]

In and out of a tux.

[Somebody stop them while they're still relatively sober and ahead.]

'n here I was thinkin' you'd be disappointed that I wasn't wearin' a tux today.

[Even without a tux, he's still dressed a lot more formally than many guys in the City do. That's something.]

No, I'm just disappointed you're wearing anything today.

[That's completely said right into her drink because it's not something she needs to be saying at a time like this or something he needs to hear.]

Well, y'know, I don't have to be wearin' anythin' today. It's not like I'm at work. A guy can sit around in his apartment wearin' nothin' at all, right?

[He really has no qualms about taking his clothes off around people, bad scars on his leg aside.]

[Well, shit. He heard. Oh well. Time to own her words.]

Yeah, no one's stopping him. No law against not wearing pants in his own house or anything.

[This has to be the alcohol talking... or just Angela. No, it's just Angela.]

[Oh, don't encourage him, Angela, because he's just boldly unfastening his suspenders and undoing his belt now.]

Y'know, I gotta warn you, the scars ain't too pretty, but you get used to 'em pretty quick.

[And it's not like he's going to take his underwear off. Unless she asks him to. But he definitely is unbuttoning and unzipping his pants, and shamelessly standing up from the table to take another swig of his drink and to tug them off.]

[Oh, she's encouraging, non-verbally at least, with a raised eyebrow that says she's clearly entertained. Even if this started out as a completely different situation tonight, she's certainly not going to turn down eye candy.]

Scars give character. I have a few of my own.

[She pushes her shirt sleeve up along her right arm, showing a few pink dots in a semicircular pattern on her flesh.]

Zombie sheep.

Zombie sheep? Jesus fuck, this place is messed up.

[He turns to the side, slightly, showing her the extensive scarring on his right thigh.]

Not zombie sheep. Dunno if it'd be better or worse, but zombie sheep sounds like a better story.

No, it wasn't a better story. Let's just say I let my religious faith and being the first born scare me into sacrificing a lamb and they came back in revenge for their fallen brethren.

[That was a nightmare of a time, just as bad as it is now, only different holidays. The aftermath was terrible because Angela has to learn how to ask for help for the simplest things like washing and dressing. Good thing Brennan was here then; Angela would have been lost without her.]

[He sits back down in his chair, to take another bite of food and another sip of his drink, but he's raising his eyebrows at her over the glass, wondering how she feels about the view and and whether he should take another item of clothing off.]

Sounds awful. Glad we don't have any of those around here anymore. Just other stuff, y'know.

[The food's long forgotten in the midst of no pants right in front of her. It's a nice show, but it could be better. C+ for effort.]

I wouldn't put it past them to show up again. If I've learned anything here is that you need to expect the unexpected and you are never truly safe.

So that means we might as well have fun, as long as nothing's safe, right?

[And maybe, just maybe, he's loosening his tie and undoing his top buttons a little. Is he really planning on sitting here practically naked? Only time will tell.]

That's not what I said, though.

[Not that she's arguing against his stance. And she's certainly not looking away as he unbuttons his shirt. Her tipsy mind wonders how far he'll get clothing-wise without her taking any of hers off.]

Though now I see you're all for living it up.

Okay, it ain't what you said, but it's what I extrapolated. That counts, right?

[His shirt is tossed aside, and now he's in his undershirt and underwear, sitting there like he has no care in the world, certainly not expecting her to reciprocate unless she feels inclined to.],

Sure I am. Life's short.

Extrapolating leads you into trouble. You know what they say about assuming things.

[She doesn't have an inclination just yet, but that doesn't mean she eventually won't. Angela's still trying to behave herself sexwise and Jimmy has a boatload of issues to deal with, but her guards are down and the alcohol is beginning to hit her. She's still aware, but her inhibitions are falling to the wayside. Okay, more like being dropkicked to the wayside. Potato, potahto.]

So's your boxers. [She points her pinky towards said underwear.] Should I cover my eyes and give you some privacy?

[Yeah, right.]

Where would the fun be if you covered your eyes?

[Exhibitionist? To some extent, yes. That's probably why he's stripping off his undershirt, too, leaving him there in just his boxers, grinning at her like he doesn't have a care in the world.]

Sometimes extrapolation leads me to some pretty great things, y'know.

I'm just making sure, you know, in case you suddenly get shy on me.

[She's definitely liking this. She always wondered what was under than tux and what's under it is pretty impressive. He's not a beanpole nor is he super muscular, just lean and tones, just how she likes them.

She licks her lips absentmindedly, eyes coasting down the line of his chest.]

And where is it leading you now?

It's leadin' me to think you might like it if I took these off, too.

[He tugs at his boxers, but doesn't pull them down yet.]

'n it's kinda makin' me wonder what it'd take to see you take some of those clothes off.

Not much, but asking helps.

[Such a fucking tease, sitting there sipping at her drink like nothing at all, enjoying this unexpected strip tease. She's awful, he's awful, and they're both awful together and this is why they shouldn't be left in the same room along.]

Are you trying to break me? [It's obvious she's cracking already. His issues be damned.]

My answer to whether I'm tryin' to break you is entirely dependent on whether I'm succeedin' at breakin' you.

[A shameless grin, another sip of his drink, a raised eyebrow. He knows he's awful, but he doesn't think she minds.]

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