Criminal wars (Pg-13) P.K. X Price (IC)

[P.K.]

Sherry looked up as Boyd finely arrived home and started giving her a complement before adding that ever favorable dog to the end. She rolled her eyes as he walked off before settling back down in her couch staring off in thought only to have him walk back in a moment later causing her to raise her eyebrows at him in slightly surprise. Taking in the two glasses and the bottle.

She smirked as he set down next to her and popped open the scotch. She picked up a shot glass and held it up for him to fill. "Sounds like a plan to me." She responded. When her glass was filled she took a taste and set back. "Sure its safe to get your dog drunk?" She asked teasingly hanging one arm over the side of the couch as she took the rest of the shot, letting the hot liquid warm up her throat. "I thought we were doing to have Champing when we shared a drink." She sighed thinking back on their first meeting.

[Price]

"Hmph," the detective's smirk only grew at Sherry's response. "I suppose it's up to the dog how much she drinks." He leaned back and pursed his lips into a content smile as he sipped up the scotch, the sensation of a warm burn down the throat quite familiar to him. He rolled his eyes at his partner before closing them. "Next time you're out to buy, feel free to stock the cabinets with all the champagne you can carry," he retorted. A moment passed before he realized that she might actually do that. "No, actually don't do that. A bottle or two should suffice." He downed the last of the shot and poured another.

Out of nowhere, the detective began laughing to himself. His laugh was far lighter than Sherry might have expected given his usual gruff temperament. "I actually can't quite imagine you grocery shopping. I'm sure you'd manage to find some way to drop a body in the supermarket..." he teased. His attitude had shifted to a much more agreeable demeanor, as close to pleasant as he had ever been to Sherry.

[P.K.]

Sherry chuckled deviously at the detective, pouring herself another shot after him and took a sip. She raised an eyebrow though when Boyd burst into a fit of laughter. She lend forward as he spoke with curious and intrigue. "pft" she grunted leaning closer. "I wouldn't have any reason to drop a body in such a public place." She said taking the rest of her shot, pouring herself some more before holding the bottle to pour more for Boyd when he finished his current glass. "What a mess that would make in so many ways." She said. "There's no good vantage point in supermarkets and no good way to set the tone. If your going to drop a body Boyd you need to learn how to do it right." She said decisively before downing her glass. before peering down int the droplets that remained in the bottom. "Besides.... I could shop just as well as the next gall." She murmured.

[Price]

"I can drop a body just fine," the detective retorted with another sip. "You might be surprised. In fact, you might actually approve of my abilities. I think you would find my kills are always clean. After all, nothing is worse than an untidy crime scene." He finished the shot, barely feeling a buzz. Over the years, he had developed quite the tolerance for alcohol in all its forms. He let a few moments pass by in silence before he spoke again. The only sound that filled the air was the sound of more liquid pouring into his shot glass. He might not have been an accomplished vigilante like Sherry, but Boyd had taken his share of lives without hesitation and always with needlepoint accuracy. Being the son of the developer had its perks, the greatest of those perks was knowing the ins and outs of the intricacies of the game. There was seemingly nothing he couldn't become an expert at with just a few tries. Perhaps that was his father's last gift. At that thought, he downed another shot. Three down, a million more to go.

Boyd frowned. Thinking of his father always caused his poker face to break into that unconsolable frown that etched across his face. Perhaps in at least one way, he was more like Sherry than he would ever dare to admit. He began pouring another glass, the scotch bottle already half empty between the two of them. The distance between the two partners closed as Boyd moved in closer. "Tell me...why so many secrets? I know more about you than you could have possibly predicted, but why the secrecy in the first place? Hm?" He was so close to her, that he could feel the warmth of her scotch stained breath.

[P.K.]

She couldn't say she found it hard to believe, after all he wasn't a normal detective. "I've yet to see it." She said. "So that's up for debate." She said moving to reach forward for the bottle but was met with Boyd moving closer. Her eyes met his as he asked his question. There was only one other time they were closer then this, that first time he'd asked her what she wanted. "Isn't it more fun when you don't know everything?" she responded. Surly he should know plenty of reasons to have secrets, he had some of his own after all. "Thats whats makes strays so intriguing, the story's they might tell you if they could. but some stories just arn't meant to be told out loud."

[Price]

Boyd made a move even he himself hadn't predicted. His dominant hand cupped Sherry's jaw gently and simply lingered there. He didn't move an inch. His fingers didn't move to brush or stroke her cheek, nor did he make any romantic advance. The moment breathed in absolute silence. His eyes studied hers carefully, reading the smallest dilation of her pupils as if he were staring into her very soul. The intrigue lit up his features. He was thoroughly engrossed in this moment, completely and absolutely immersed in this present. His breaths shallowed, his lower lip quivered. If he moved in any closer, their lips would meet. Finally, after this long moment, he spoke, his voice a soft growl.

"Perhaps, but perhaps not. You are drawn to me....and if I admit it, I to you; magnetized to one another for very simple reasons. We are both predators, dominant in nature. For once you find yourself forced into submission, losing...deny it all that you want, but I know it eats at you. You cling so tightly to your secrets. They are your source of freedom and power, and now, for once, you find yourself without them...powerless. You can't stop wondering just how I know so much about you..." He smirked, a little too victoriously.

"But I confess," he continued. "I too am vexed. As I said before, we are both quite magnetized, hypnotized by one another. I admit that I am quite curious of you as well...in some ways, you have outfoxed me. I am supposed to be unrivaled by default for reasons you will never know. Yet, here you are...as much my equal as anyone I have ever encountered in this little game." He set his glass down. "In all this talk of dog and master...well I suppose that in this instance, and in this instance alone, you have me so at your attention that I am the dog, and that you are the master."

[P.K.]

Sherry was still as his palm cupped her jaw. Once again so close to each other she could smell scotch on his shallow breaths. Her eyes watching him watching her, what could he possibly be reading through the eyes of a dark soul? Her eyes watched his lips move when he growled finely. Her eyes narrowing on his once more, He did know, much more then she would have thought anyone inside the game could, and it did make her wounder who he actually was. She wanted to know, answers had never been so far from her gasp as they where now.

Reasons she would never know. But here he was admitting that there were answers that were just outside of his reach as much as her's. "An equal." she murmured She managed a smirk of her own. "I can live with that." She said. Equally vexing each other with the far off answers neither of us can reach and are willing to give up easily." She said She pulled away from his hand, picking up the bottle and pouring the last into their glasses. "After all this little game is the only reality we have anymore." she said taking a sip. "Might as well make it as interesting as possible."

[Price]

Boyd leaned back, noting their mirroring expressions before taking a swig of the last refill of the evening. He didn't say anything as she spoke of the game being their only reality. Instead, he merely nodded. After several moments passed, he finally spoke. "Do you miss...the other world? The real world? Would you go back if you could?" The tone of his voice made it clear that he was speaking in purely hypothetical terms. His eyes peered into hers again, again soulgazing, searching for something beyond the front that she always put up.

He had won their game of chess, hadn't he? So why did he feel like he was still ten steps behind? No one he had encountered in this game had ever interested him, fascinated him, and quite honestly, captivated him so. She brought so many conflicting emotions to his surface, frustration, irritation, and annoyance, but also excitement, intrigue, and a sense of companionship. He honestly just didn't know how to feel about her, and so he had resolved to simply enjoy the ride that this relationship had become.

[P.K.]

She turned sitting sideways to the man as she took another sip of her scotch, savoring the last bit that was left in her shot glass and swirled it around gently. She peered at him sideways as his eyes peered intently into her's upon asking his question. She looked back down at her glass for a long moment before finely finishing it off. "I don't know that I really miss it." she said finely. "I never really got a chance to live in it in the first place." a soft sigh escaped her lips as she set back.

Her entirely lift had been lived behind walls and windows, bars and doors. that wasn't much of a life. She closed her eyes as she continued to think. "If I were to somehow get back, I'd probably miss this place more then I ever could miss what you call the real world. Besides..." she started as she gazed up at the ceiling. "there isn't a place out there for someone like me, but here... " she trailed off with a small smirk.

[Price]

Boyd nodded, understanding exactly where Sherry was coming from. He understood her perspective far more than she knew, that was certain. In some ways, it felt like talking to her was like talking to a mirror. If circumstances had been changed a little, he might have turned out more like her. "...but here you can have yourself a little playground. This place was made for you, fits like a glove..." He finished her thought for her. Were they still talking about Sherry? Or had this become about him now? All the time spent trapped inside this little game and never once had he ever wished to go home. Even the loneliest night in this world was better than his previous life a thousand times over. It was nice to know that he wasn't alone in feeling that way.

For a moment he noticed his face was solemn, lost in thought. That brightened up as he spoke again. "Until I came along and put a damper on all your fun, that is," there was that glow again. His wide-eyed, grinning face just eagerly prodding Sherry for all of her priceless little quips and comebacks. He hated to admit it, but she really was growing on him. He wouldn't call her a friend, not yet, and if his pride had anything to say about it maybe not ever, but in this moment...in this present moment, he could at least admit that his life was better with her in it.