Partitione - R

[Ange Keating]

They were wasting time. Meeting with the half of the Consilium that was on their side and somehow getting them to listen to their opinions was already a long shot, if the mission fell apart here, they were the equivalent of royally screwed. Aequitas was prided on its image of regality – and considering the High Council was the centerpiece of the town’s esteemed image, every single licensed guard did everything in their power to protect them from harm’s way. Needless to say, getting caught breaking into the most significant building of everything supernatural wouldn’t induce good results for the duo. Matter of fact, the luckiest they could have possibly been if apprehended was five years in a high security prison.

If they were going to do this, Olivia wanted to do this smartly. AKA, watching Dominic trying to leap over a fence had never made her want inhumane strength as much as she did now, just so she could throttle the shit out of him. But her eyebrows immediately rose at his next suggestion, gaze drifting to the cluster of men at the gates. Damn it, whenever he made her want to tear out his entrails and choke him with them, he brought forth ideas; good ideas. Ideas that Olivia wished she had thought of.

And there it was – her dislike had been restored.

“We’ll go on three,” Olivia muttered, keeping her voice low. Then, raising her pointer, she began the countdown, only for Dominic to immediately sprint forward at full force towards the entrance. Olivia hadn’t even been supplied with time to let her rage materialize before everything was instantaneously kicking into high gear. She found herself soon in motion too, grabbing the closest guard to her before they could even cause a commotion.

The man was twice her size with eyes as brilliant as liquid gold. Olivia had been trained with hand-to-hand combat, but even with years of defensive schooling, she was still severely disadvantaged when it came to battling others of the supernatural variety. The fylgha was, by far, one of the weakest physically, meaning they were the closest to humans genetically. Seeing as people of her kind were never meant to inhabit the natural world, evolution hadn’t prepared them for it. Their strongest protection resided in both entering, and manipulating other creatures dreams, planting seeds in their head, inhabiting their thoughts. Olivia knew it was a powerful gift to have – just not one that was necessarily practical or useful to her line of work.

“That’s it,” the man growled, lunging for the woman just as she quickly sidestepped out of the way, bringing a hard knee to his shin and using every ounce of power that flowed through her limbs to toss him to the floor. Only this subdued him momentarily, a growl rumbling deep in his throat. It was then Olivia noticed the gradual elongating of his nails, and the way his once clear skin, slowly turned stubbly with fur.

Fucking damn it; he was a lycan.

In an instant, he had transformed into a beast that couldn’t possibly be shorter than seven feet tall, teeth, like spears, snapping at her viciously. Olivia wanted to react, but the lycan was swift, knocking her to the grass with such intense force, her body had rolled at least five times, head throbbing as she attempted to sort the colors dotting her vision. She attempted to claw at the dirt, to grab onto something, however again her goals were slashed. Or well, her body.

Olivia cried out in pain as she felt the intense sting of claws tearing along the fabric of her blouse, palm immediately flying to the wound as she stared at her bloodied hand in dull amusement. For a moment she thought that this was it, that she would perish at the hands of the Consilium – so close, yet so far. For a moment she also figured that perhaps this was the best, that she wouldn’t have to expire in the frigid concealment of a cell. In another moment, her vision faded to black.

***
“She’s coming around,” a soft voice announced happily, soon followed by the sudden chill of what felt like a rag on her forehead. Olivia could see light from beyond her lids, and still, she couldn’t bring herself to open them. She wasn’t quite sure if it was due to her general lack of energy, or the fact that she had no desire to figure out what resided on the other side.

A low grumble sounded. “Is there any way to bring her out of this quicker? She’s been like this for half an hour.”

“Don’t rush her,” the chirpy Soprano quipped. “She’ll wake up when she feels it’s right.”

“Well she needs to feel that it’s right, right now.”

Was that Dominic? Olivia was mildly surprised with how easily she was able to distinguish his sound from others.

“Dominic?” Soprano questioned, and to Olivia’s horror, she had actually said his name out loud.

“That’s me,” he explained quickly. “Look, Olivia. We’re wasting time. The side of the Consilium that’s on our side wants to speak with us. Immediately.”

This information was enough to supply the strength needed to force open her lids, the light, at first, blinding her with its brilliance. Once her image adjusted, she took in the scenery around her instinctively. The room was comprised of ivory marble, carved into a dome as glass windows surrounded them, overlooking the back terrace. Workers were busily moving about the garden, tending to the vegetation that flooded it. There was only a singular bed in this room, the woman, who she assumed was Soprano, smiling down at her with warm, green eyes.

“And she wakes! Sit up, sweety. I’ll just give you a small injection of Alicorn, and you can be on your way. I was wary of giving it to you in your unconscious state. It isn’t exactly recommended.”

Olivia peered down at her exposed stomach, which was completely void of even a flesh wound, before tugging down her shirt subconsciously. The nurse soon returned with a tiny syringe, filled to the brim with a translucent fluid before lifting her wrist and sticking the metal end in.

By that point, Dominic had drifted off to the window, looking down at the backyard with dull intrigue.

“You should be thankful, honny. Without him, you would have lost your life.”

Olivia’s face crinkled. She had been attacked by the gates, Dom had been the only one out there at the time that wasn’t a guard. Right. Tightening her lips slightly, she safely convinced herself it was purely business. They agreed to trust each other as much as they possibly could, and he had been simply withholding his end of the arrangement.

When she didn’t speak, the woman, much to her dismay, went on. “Is he your partner?”

Instantly her eyes widened. Partners in crime? Partners in bingo? “Uh, what?” she croaked, surprised with the lack of intensity that usually shrouded her tone.

The woman laughed heartily. “You’re funny. No, sweet heart. Partners as in lovers. He risked his life out there. You should have seen it! We took you both in before the other side of the Consilium could order for your arrest.”

Even though Olivia couldn’t currently see herself, she knew her cheeks were turning a disgustingly bright red color. “No. Absolutely not.” Then, attempting to divert the subject before she could prod, she quickly added, “How is that possible? How could—I thought we would be on our way to the highest penitentiary.”

Grabbing a swab doused in a dark liquid, she shook her head with a melancholy smile. It almost made Olivia regret inquiring. “No. Ever since this disagreement broke out, the entire House has been divided as well. The Right Wing hosts the Purists, and the Left Wing, which is us, hosts the Equalists.”

Olivia’s eyes burned into that of the nurse’s, interest piqued. “Purists? Equalists?”

The nurse started placing her tools back on a metal tray. “You haven’t heard? I assumed that’s why you came here.” Pausing momentarily, it seemed as if she were considering whether to her or not. “The Purists are trying to approve the order of all creatures returning to their home regions for eternity, while the Equalists would like to promote the mixing of creatures, as they believe it is necessary for the growth of our society.” Clearing her throat, she gripped Olivia’s hand softly. “But I cannot say much, dear. It was already a stretch allowing you two to enter these quarters. You’re all done.”

Looking down at her arm incredulously, the tiny puncture wound from the injection still visible, she murmured a delayed ‘Thank you’ before carefully sliding her body out of the bed, testing her balance and then sliding into her heels with slight disappointment at the six inches she would be forced to walk in again.

The nurse looked at her warmly once more, before glancing over at Dom, who was still situated by the window. “Good luck.”

Goosebumps flushed her skin once she realized the meeting wasn’t the only thing she was offering her fortune on.

[Rosabeth]

Dom was getting antsy, and things didn't go well when he got antsy. Every time he'd look over at Olivia she'd still be talking to the damn nurse and Dom would continue his pacing of the room until he was too frustrated to continue. At this break he'd chosen to stare out a window at a small garden within the gates, though seeing as the garden was empty there wasn't much to stare at. With an impatient groan he turned back towards Olivia for another look, but thankfully she was the one walking towards him.

"Finally," he groaned, pushing himself off the window sill. "Took you long enough."

"Oy, I'm the one who almost got killed out there, cut me some slack!"

"I don't think I ever told you to get involved," Dom hissed. He thought back to running in at the guards, taking the first out with a well placed hit almost instantly and then turning only to find Olivia trying to take on a damn lycan like some kind of martial arts master. If you could die from rolling your eyes too hard Dom probably would have.

Olivia pulled a face. "I'm pretty sure there was a "let's" somewhere in your statement."

Dom opened his mouth to argue but instead took in a sharp breath, gritting his teeth. No, this was stupid. They didn't need to argue over something so mundane, even if he was right. They had better things to do. Instead, Dom waved for Olivia to follow as he left the clinic. The Consilium's meeting chambers - at least the one they'd been directed to - lie at the center of the wing, and given the sheer size of the building and labyrinthine like design of the layout, it was quite the trek. Dom had been hoping for a silent walk, but it seemed Olivia had different plans.

"So, uh, what exactly happened?" She scratched at her head, trying to make the question seem as casual as possible. Dom didn't buy it - he could see the embarrassment at her own failure clawing at her.

"Well, Mr. Werewolf pulled out his claws, gave you a scratch, and you blacked out."

"It wasn't just a fucking scratch if I blacked out," Olivia argued. Dom forced himself to shrug instead of argue.

"Either way, you blacked out. I came over and beat the shit out of him and that was that." Dom looked back to Olivia and noticed she was staring at him with one eyebrow raised, silently calling him out on his bullshit. Dom rubbed his neck. "Ok, more or less. I did manage to knock him out, though... after he took a piece out of my chest."

"WHAT?"

Dom pulled back collar of his shirt a bit to expose the bit of his chest that had been victim to a pretty brutal raking. It'd hurt like hell, but Dom had been so enraged in the moment he'd barely noticed. By the time he'd carried Olivia inside and managed to convince the others at the Consilium that he wasn't a mass murderer out for blood the marks had already cleared up. The skin Dom exposed was slightly pink and raised, just like any scar, but all damage and blood was long gone. "It's the vampire blood," Dom explained as Olivia stared in shock. "They used some on you too, but yours was 100%, not the 50% shit in my veins, so it worked a lot better. That's why you don't have any marks." Olivia was still staring even as Dom spoke, and suddenly she reached up and grazed her fingers over the raised marks on his chest as if she wasn't completely convinced they were real. Dom forced a cough, the sound being enough to shake Olivia out of whatever trance she'd been in. Her arm snapped back so fast he almost got whiplash. Her eyes immediately darted anywhere but Dom and all conversation died on the spot.

Luckily it wasn't too much further to the meeting room, and as they approached the guards outside the door seemed to be waiting for them. Without so much as a 'hello' they were swept into the chambers, immediately thrust in front of dozens of people while the doors clicked silently behind them. Dom stared blankly up at the rows of faces who watched him with suspicion, faces that ranged in appearance but not so much as a hair in expression. The room was shaped like a circle with rings of benches going up at an incline towards the doors at the top, the only break in the rings being a single door that now stood behind Dom. In the center of the crescent was a circular floor, the middle of which held a podium currently occupied by no one. Half the seats were empty, and from this Dom could guess that this was one of the main meeting rooms for the Consilium... that was, when they weren't trying to kill each other.

Dom and Olivia inched forward until they reached the podium, exchanging a brief look that affirmed that neither of them had a clue what to do.

"State your names."

Dom's eyes snapped to his left to meet the speaker, a middle-aged woman whom Rhys was fairly certain from first glance was an elf. Not the Lord of the Rings type, of course - those were not elves. This woman had dark skin, so dark it was nearly pitch black with only a grey cast giving it any sort of dimension. Her eyes were an eerie pale blue that resembled a snake's eyes, her hair cropped short and only accentuating her extremely tall frame. Dom was so momentarily caught up in her appearance that he almost forgot about her question completely.

"Olivia Bates," said Olivia, quick to chime in.

The elf shook her head. "Your real name."

Olivia paused, practically squirming on the spot. "Ehren Vormund."

The elf didn't smile, but she didn't particularly frown either. It was a strange expression that put Dom on edge. "A fylgha," she said, the other seated consilium members all murmuring along in interest. Fortunately for Olivia their interest didn't last long, turning on Dom. "And you?"

"Dominic Foster."

The elf sighed, already tired of them. "Your real name, just like I said. You're not hard of hearing, are you?"

Dom didn't even bother feeling embarrassed, knowing exactly what was coming. He'd dealt with enough shit about his race to last a lifetime. Another round of disapproval wouldn't kill him. "That is my real name," he answered dully. "I'm a dhampir."

The round of murmuring that followed Dom's admission far exceeded that of Olivia's. Some people leaned closer to get a better look while others pursed their lips and whispered what Dom knew to be nasty comments to whoever would listen. Dom rolled his eyes, shoving his hands in his pockets of his jeans and waiting for the commotion to die down. If this was the most interesting part of their day these people really needed to consider a career change.

"I apologize for any disruption," said the elf, her voice cutting off her co-members' whisperings. "We don't see many dhampir here."

"Yeah, I know, we don't exactly get representation in your government."

The silence that followed was uncomfortable to say the least, but Dom relished in it. Let them be uncomfortable - it served them right.

"Anyway," the elf said, clearing her throat, "let's get onto business. You two wished to talk. You have two minutes."

Dom didn't even bother speaking because the moment he'd opened his mouth Olivia was already halfway through what sounded like a preprepared speech on what services she could offer, still having access to special precinct information. It was a long and, in Dom's eyes, ultimately trivial speech, but Olivia seemed determined to give it. When it came to Dom to speak he merely shrugged, folding his arms in front of his chest. "I'm a dhampir. I belong to the Sabia coven. I'll give you any information you want on those bastards. That's all I can offer."

[Ange Keating]

The meeting had been relatively breezy, the Consilium agreeing to their terms, and accepting them as a part of their war effort. Today was only the introduction of what would be a long week of consultations and planning. The committee had insisted they were special guests, leaving them two suites in the Royal Chamber to sort to their devices. A bulkier man with dark hair shaved into a low crew cut and stark white silks wrapped around his masculine form led them through the grand hallways, columns of gold lining the marble walkway.

Olivia had been to the Courts several times in her professional career, but never had she entered into this part of the building, a living, breathing representation of the manifestation of the supernatural over time. Different artifacts from various cultures and species littered the wall in the form of art work, sculpting, and many other forms, lips parting slightly in curiosity as she marveled at her surroundings.

“If you think this is stunning, you’d be thrilled with the private museums on the highest floor. It’s special entry, but tours are given twice a year. Truly extraordinary.”

Suddenly, a loud clang reverberated off of the walls, both Olivia and the male guide whipping around to see Dominic ungracefully straightening a statue he had nearly knocked over. Her lips tightened into a frown before she was pettily quipping, “I thought people of your kind were supposed to be smooth.”

“And I thought people of your kind were supposed to be ‘heavenly’ and kind. Guess there’s a sour grape in every patch.”

The two were caught in a staring match that didn’t quite hold any hatred but was intense nonetheless before the guide was clearing his throat uncomfortably and shrugging. “Nothing could destroy these artifacts anyways. The Consilium made sure a warlock came in the day they were moved into the Courts to place a protective charm on them.”

Olivia sighed, nodding softly. “Makes sense.”

Eventually they had moved along several more hallways before the guide was stopping at two grand double doors, gesturing at the entrance. “And here you are. Our kitchen is always on duty so order whatever you like, whenever you like. You are also free to explore the permitted areas, which is highlighted on a rune inside the suite. Enjoy your stay.”

It instantly clicked in Olivia’s head that there were no two suites as promised, just one.

“Excuse me, but we were told that there would be two rooms? Perhaps this is a mistake.”

The man looked momentarily stunned before he was shaking his head with a tiny smile. “No, no mistake. We only have one suite available at this moment in time.”

There was no force on this Earth that could prevent the clear distaste on Olivia’s face from appearing. The idea of being trapped in the same quarters as Dominic for an entire week caused her stomach to flip multiple times. And she couldn’t even entirely blame it on the fact he was an annoying jackass.

“Is there any other questions I can ask?” He prompted when Olivia hadn’t said anything for several moments.

“N…No,” she breathed, raking a hand through her hair in mild frustration.

The guide gave them another friendly smile before reminding them of their amenities and disappearing back down the hallway. By the time they had fully entered into the lavish room, she was turning to face the dhampir with a stern look burning into her features.

“Fantastic,” Olivia muttered sarcastically.

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[Rosabeth]

The suite turned out to be less of a suite and more of a posh flat, they type one might imagine a fabulously wealthy stock broker in Manhattan living in. Compared to Dom's flat, in which one was lucky to be able to see the floor or find anything but beer and leftover takeout in the fridge, this place was paradise. Dom whistled under his breath as he and Olivia pushed open the double doors, taking in a vast sitting room with ridiculously expensive looking furnishings, including a couch adorned with gold filigree. The ceilings were high with a glass chandelier hanging from the center. A wool rug in an intricate design lay on the floor, though considering the floor looked like it was made from mahogany Dom couldn't really see the point.

"Where do the even get all this money? Is there some sort of supernatural IRS that collects taxes from unsuspecting werewolves?" Dom asked, picking up a blue and white vase and tossing it between his hands. Olivia stormed over and snatched the vase from his hands, setting it back down before smacking him on he arm.

"Don't break anything."

"It's not like they couldn't replace it." Olivia chose not to respond, but Dom didn't miss the eyeroll.

Unsurprisingly, when Dom rounded the corner into the next room there was only one bed in sight. Dom groaned, relegating himself to stake out the sofa, figuring he'd be camped out there for at least the first night. He'd put up a fight over bed ownership, but frankly he didn't care enough to deal with Olivia's very loud, very verbal arguments. Judging by the look of the suite the couch would be nicer than anything he owned anyway, so it wasn't liked he'd lose sleep over it. No, it was just the principle of the thing. Taking a second, more careful look about the room Dom began noticing all the details, such as the sheer size of the single bed. The very large silk-sheeted, burgandy colored, pillow-covered bed. The one positive was the bucket of ice that sat on an ottoman at the foot of the bed with a bottle of champagne sitting at the end. Freshly cut red rose arranged in a vase adorned both bedside tables, but it was not until Dom noticed the rose petals scattered over the pillows did he begin to put together the pieces.

Olivia reached the same conclusion at that very moment. "Is this the god damn honeymoon suite?"

Suddenly the bottle of champagne seemed tainted, and Dom gave it a disparaging look. "Why the hell does a government facility have a honeymoon suite? Who thought 'you know what would make a great honeymoon? Politics?' Maybe it isn't even a honeymoon suite - maybe they just decorated it like this to fuck with us."

"If they did this intentionally I don't think it was to fuck with us," Olivia pointed out, sounding sick at the very though. Olivia looked over, catching Dom's eye, and after a second of the most uncomfortable eye contact she looked away in embarassment. Dom could feel his face flush but he ignored it, heading straight for the bottle of champagne, grabbing the corkscrew, and popping off the top. If they were going to get through the week Dom was going to need copious amounts of alcohol. Apparently the Consilium agreed. With a nod of the head in Olivia's direction Dom lifted up the bottle and took a long drink, rather wishing it was gin instead.

"Hey, use a glass!" Olivia said, throwing him one of the flutes which he caught in midair only to set back down on a table, raising an eyebrow at Olivia's disapproving expression and shaking his head.

"If you're seriously concerned about germs I don't think I can associate with you anymore because that's kind of pathetic."

Olivia grumbled but seemed to relent, making her way to where Dom stood and snatching the bottle forcefully from his hand before downing a considerable amount in one go.

"Damn, didn't know you could unhinge your jaw like a snake."

Dom was dangerously close to getting himself slapped. "Shut up. If anyone needs this it's me, seeing as I have to deal with your shit for the next few days."

Snatching the champagne bottle back with a snarky face seemed to be response enough and Dom's long drink - which was more of a chug than anything - was his own personal form of adamant disagreement. Dom held out the bottle now, offering it up to Olivia with an arched brow as if to challenge her in a game of drinking, a game he knew he would win, but she did not take it. Instead she stared at him openly, her eyes flickering away from his to travel quickly down his body before snapping back up and shaking herself out of it, looking embarassed as her cheeks began to flush. This time she took Dom's offered drink but instead set it down, picking up the glasses once more and shoving one into Dom's hand with a look that implied he did not have any choice in the matter.

"You don't chug champagne," Olivia said cooly, pouring a glass for herself before pressing the bottle into Dom's hand.

Dom had to disagree, but he complied anyway, pouring himself the biggest glass he could. "You do if you're trying to drink away your sorrows."

"If that's what you're going for I think vodka would be a better option," Olivia pointed out.

"Well, we've got several more days and apparently a free catering service which I'm very much hoping has an open bar. Trust me - there will be vodka."

The two drank in silence for a while more, moving from the bedroom to the sitting room, both cringing every time they looked around the bedroom and saw some romantic imagery that made them want to crawl out of their own skin. The champagne dulled Dom's senses, and for that he was grateful for it made Olivia's very presence less grating, even if it wasn't nearly strong enough to make him forget that she made him want to throw something at a wall. As the time dragged on, Dom not even sure if it was day or night as the heavy curtains in the suite were pulled tightly shut, Olivia grew impatient, constantly fidgeting and glancing waywardly in Dom's direction.

"So, tomorrow the Consilium wants to talk logistics, and I was thinking that -"

"No."

"What?"

Dom pressed himself up from his lounging position and pursed his lips at Olivia, shaking his head a bit too vigorously for a sober person. "No. No talking about the Consilium. You see, unlike you I don't really give a shit about the Consilium, so as long as they can help me find Is and Will that's all I really care about. Unless the next words out of your mouth are 'this is how we're going to get back your family and not get you killed in the process' then I don't want to hear it. Tonight I'm going to drink and you're not going to talk about the Consilium, your stupid ex-boss, or any other problems. Ok? No problems. Not tonight."

[Ange Keating]

In spite of the lavish ambiance that surrounded her, Olivia felt more on edge than ever. All she could think about were the events to follow. A few bottles of champagne and satin bed spreads were no where near to assuaging her nerves. Because when it boiled down to it, the outcome of this entire dispute was a deciding factor in whether or not she'd return to Himmel, the place where some of her most horrific memories occurred.

Olivia was certain Dominic was the only man capable of making her want to drive a steak knife through his neck one moment and give into his charm the next.

She knocked back the flute of champagne in one swallow before reaching for the bottle and pouring herself another tall, tall glass. Dominic would either drive her to insanity or suicide; whichever came first.

The fact that they were in the Honeymoon Suite only made things considerably worse, from the disgustingly romantic heart-shaped tub in the bathroom with an assortment of magical bath salts and love potions to the rose petals and packages (which had made Olivia blush profusely during further inspection) that shrouded the bedroom, AKA the main attraction.

Getting drunk was a newly-adapted ability that Olivia had only experienced once. A New Years drinking game that Alex had invented ended with them doing tequila shots way into the early morning. She had fallen asleep on the carpet in nothing but tube socks and a party hat. It wasn't a memory she necessarily enjoyed reliving. Which was why, in spite of her stresses, she put her absolute best efforts into watching her liquor. Things tended to happen when she was no longer in full control of her thoughts, and as she cleared away about half of her second glass, her gazes on Dominic probably lingered longer than what was socially acceptable for them.

Olivia could have argued back, could have created an entire list of reasons why Dominic was being a selfish jackass, but even that exhausted a lot more energy than she was willing to produce at the given moment in time. So she settled in silence until her second glass was finished and she was twisting the flute in her fingers, eying the Elatio as if it were a canister of water after days of trekking through the Sahara Desert.

"You don't have to hold back all the time," Dominic mentioned, and for a moment she had forgotten he was sitting on the couch adjacent to hers.

"I'm not holding back."

"Shit could blow up in our faces tomorrow morning. Drink."

Reaching for the bottle chilling in the ice, he moved from his position so that he could pour her another glass, Olivia's breath catching in her throat almost instantaneously. He then did the same for himself, hand shoved in his pocket as he traversed the room to a nearby window that overlooked the heartbeat of Aequitas -- the town square.

Before she could think to stop herself, Olivia was on her feet as well, moving slowly behind him. "I'm just worried," she found herself murmuring, "Worried for the unknown."

Dom rotated around, eyes bright in mild surprise to see that she had followed him. "Sometimes you can't let your fears fester," he said with a shrug. "Just gotta live it day by day."

OIivia absentmindedly marveled at how close they were, and how the moonlight lazily spilled across the contours of his face, accentuating the sharp lines of his cheek bones. She parted her lips for a split second before she was shaking her head, vision snapping away from his and out the window. "I'm not afraid."

She practically gasped out when Dominic pressed his palm flat against her chest, an almost languid smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Olivia wanted to push him away, to deliver as hard of a blow to the jaw as she could for breaching their hard-set boundaries. But she remained perfectly still, jaw taut.

"Your heartbeat," he mused, "it sped up. You're lying."

Olivia instantly tore his hand away, the lack of contact only existing for several more seconds as they just stared at the other before somehow, their lips were smashed together, her feet nearly giving out from underneath her to the sudden evasion of Dominic's weight.

She was sober enough to realize exactly what was happening, but inebriated enough not to care.

[Rosabeth]

The rational side of Dom’s brain was telling him rather forcefully to snap out of his delusion and back away. Unfortunately, the side of his brain that took orders from his pants seemed to be winning the mental war. Dom wasn’t entirely sure how any of this had begun, how they’d even come to be kissing when only an hour before they’d been at each other’s throats. He wasn’t even sure which of them had been the first to go in, though considering they were going at it pretty forcefully he wasn’t sure it mattered. Still, for his own pride he liked to believe it was Olivia that made the first move.

Dom set down his champagne glass on the windowsill, grabbing Olivia’s from her hand and setting it down beside his. With their hands free Olivia pulled him closer with one hand grabbing at his neck, the other on his back. Step away, a voice yelled in Dom’s mind. The voice was constant, nagging, and sounded suspiciously like Will. For a split second Dom shook himself from his drunken haze for long enough to pull back slightly, just enough to breathe steadily and regain his senses. He was drunk. His judgment was impaired. But even as he told these lines to himself over and over he knew that they were inherently lies. He was more tipsy than drunk, and he was certainly nowhere near the limit of being unable to make conscious, capable decisions for himself. Perhaps his inhibitions were somewhat loosened, but he was certainly in his right mind. That was part of what made this whole situation even messier.

Broken away from the kiss, Dom pressed his lips together, still feeling Olivia’s lips on his. Though he’d pulled back from the kiss Olivia’s hands still pressed onto his skin and the stood chest-to-chest, close enough for Dom to be able to smell the lingering scent of some perfume or shampoo. As he shifted slightly he realized that his hands too were both pressed onto Olivia’s back, one on her waist and one near her hips, and even as he thought of it his hands did not move an inch as if he simply couldn’t pull away. Neither of them said a word – what would they say, anyway – instead slowly lifting their eyes to meet each others’. Olivia’s eyes were bright and fierce, boring into his with a mix of apprehension and an almost animalistic desire. He could see her chest rising and falling quickly, the redness in her lips, blood rushing in her throat…

Dom closed his eyes, pushing away that thought. Being a dhampir brought with it some unsettling senses. Yet when Dom opened his eyes once more his eyes instantly flickered back to her neck. It was not as if Dom drank blood – thankfully that was one aspect of vampirism that did not grace dhampirs – but it still held a certain strange allure, a fetish, in a way. Without thinking Dom brought his lips to Olivia’s neck and pressed them there, kissing down from her jaw to near her collarbone. At first Olivia froze, as if remembering what Dom was, but quickly relaxed into his kisses, and if Dom was right…moaned. He smiled against her skin.

After a minute Dom raised his head once more to meet Olivia’s eyes, and once more saw that same desire, but this time his mind finally registered who he was looking at. How many times had he looked at that same face and wanted so acutely to reach out and slap her self-satisfied grin away. How many times had he looked on her face and never wished to see it again? He hated Olivia. No, he mused, that obviously was not true. But hatred or not, they were not friends. Toleration itself was a challenge. Yet there was no denying Olivia’s physical appeal, and despite the knowledge that she was insufferable and aggravating, the illogical part of his brain wanted to strip off her clothes. Maybe it was the knowledge that Dom hadn’t had sex in a few months that spurred him on, but again he asked himself if the reasoning even mattered. Here they were, pressed against one another, and neither of them was pulling away.

Suddenly Olivia’s lips were on his again, hard and desperate, and Dom stopped thinking. He repressed all thoughts that told him no, instead shoving Olivia against the wall and pressing himself flush to her. Next thing Dom knew one hand was moving under his shirt along his chest, the other on the waistband of his jeans, and all logical thought disappeared completely. He’d lost the will to care how monumentally bad of a decision this was.

[Ange Keating]

Olivia had always questioned the legitimacy of there being a heaven and a hell her entire life, but after waking up slumped onto of Dom naked, with an empty bottle of champagne knocked over on the floor and a blanket strewn over their bodies haphazardly, she seriously considered the existence of the latter. Olivia wasn't sure whether she wanted to sob or laugh in disbelief at the fact that she had given herself so willingly to a man that had driven her to the brink of insanity numerous times purely for his own entertainment.

Although, in the back of her head she couldn't help but be profusely relieved with the fact that they hadn't crawled into the horrifyingly romantic, satin-bed still doused in roses and chocolates. That would have been an unbearable place to wake up in, especially in light of last night's events. Olivia wished she had been drunk enough to forget the details of their rendezvous, but every, single, moment from start to finish was engrained in her memory as torture devices for when she was mentally scolding herself later.

She really, really did wish that she could forget how good he had been and how ridiculously in tune he was with which buttons to push, and when.

She bit down on her tongue in frustration before pushing off of him and grabbing the blanket to wrap herself in. Clearly the best method for moving past this was pretending it had never happened. Olivia could do that, and hopefully Dom could too, because holding onto this would only ruin the professional makeup of their relationship and the very last thing she wanted was her temporary lapse in judgment to be consistent held over her head.

“That was fun,” he heard a voice lazily muse from behind her.

Olivia snapped her head back in disbelief as she took in the sight of Dom grabbing a not-quite finished glass of champagne and downing the rest of it in one swallow. At that moment she willed the floor to give away from beneath her so she could fall through. Her efforts had been fruitless though as the sight of Dom, a nude Dom, remained perfectly intact.

“It was a mistake,” she responded icily, not even quite sure why she was indulging in this conversation. It was pointless.

“What part of it was a mistake? The part where you were practically ripping off my clothes, or the part where you were mo--”

“Speaking of clothes, put some fucking on,” she interrupted before the blush engulfing her cheeks couldn't become too embarrassingly obvious.

“Sure you won't be too disappointed if I do?” he questioned, even though he was grabbing his briefs and swiftly tugging them on.

“I don't see why I would be.”

“Just figured because you were totally checking me out.”

Her lips parted in defense. “I was not.”

“Yeah, you were.”

“No I wasn't.” However before he could open her mouth she was waving him off in irritation. “We have a meeting in an hour. I'm taking a shower.”

“I could join you. To make things quicker.”

She was pretty sure she'd erode her teeth if she grounded them together any harder. Clearly Dom lived for tormenting her and she wouldn't allow it. So with one more hard glare, she was turning on her heels, rushing to the shower as quickly as she could so she could attempt to scrub away the raw shame that shrouded her.

[Rosabeth]

The minute Dom heard the steady beat of water from the shower he hurriedly pulled on the rest of his clothes, haphazardly grabbing the one spare outfit he’d brought in their hasty packing. Certainly well-worn clothes in shades of dark and darker weren’t anywhere near decency standards for their company, but Dom didn’t exactly have much choice. Despite looking like a back alley drug dealer, the little gesture of getting dressed – and taking his sweet time doing so – was enough to let him clear his head.

A throbbing headache that assured him he’d had too much to drink made it quite clear that neither of their judgments had been particularly clear the night before, but neither of them had been drunk enough to warrant that they’d not been fully conscious of their choice. From the moment they’d kissed until the moment they’d fallen asleep naked and exhausted Dom had been enthusiastic about it all. He’d wanted it. If he was being honest, he still did. If he were being completely honest, he’d acknowledge that he’d do it again in a heartbeat. No matter how much he detested Olivia on a day-to-day basis, on a base level there was an undeniable attraction. It made him want to puke.

A sudden, debilitating fear rushed over Dom in his thoughts, freezing him in place. When he came to enough to move he practically tripped over his own feet as he lurched at the trash can. There at the bottom was the metallic condom packaging. Dom nearly laughed and cried simultaneously in relief. He wasn’t entirely sure if reproduction between their races was possible, seeing as their humanoid appearances didn’t mean that they were actually human, but he’d rather be safe than dealing with some drunken pregnancy with someone he was tempted to push out a window.

As Dom sat hunched over on the couch he heard the door click, his neck craning to see Olivia come back into the room wrapped tightly in a towel. Before he could say anything she snatched her clothes from a pile on the bed, shot him a glare, and retreated back into the bathroom. Dom had to laugh that she still attempted modesty, given what had happened. It seemed that his laughter hadn’t been as quiet as he’d thought, as moments later when Olivia came back out once again she hurled a hotel-sized bottle of shampoo at his head. Dom caught it easily, shaking a finger at Olivia’s scowl before chucking the bottle across the room.

“So, I th-“

“No. Nope, you do not get to say anything.”

“Excuse me?”

Olivia pursed her lips, shoving her belongings a little too forcefully into her small bag. “I don’t wan to hear it. I don’t want to hear any snarky little comments or flirty remarks or anything. We’re going to pretend that last night just didn’t happen, ok? We’re going to go through the rest of the day completely neutral. We’re going to act like nothing happened, because you know what? It didn’t change anything anyway.”

“I agree.”

Olivia’s double take confirmed that she’d been expecting anything but that reaction. “What? No stupid, grating comment?”

“You’re right. This doesn’t change anything. What, you thought that I’d suddenly like you? You’re not that good looking.”

Dom wasn’t sure if Olivia looked more offended or relieved. She seemed momentarily lost for words as she stared at Dom. After a moment she composed herself and eyed Dom with distain.

“You’re going to need better clothes.”