[M]Quiet night out [Blink]

[Marjorie]

Sexy things might happen in this thread. You have been warned!

Emrys worked for the Aerospace Exploration Diplomatic Agency... Officially he was an Interplanetary Diplomat. The redacted parts of his file would suggest he was actually a spy. He had worked as a field intelligence officer from the start of his carer. Interstellar strategic planning was right up his alley... he didn't actually design mission to capture or conquer other people's planets, but he did gather data that allowed the people who did to do their jobs. Want to know another government's military strengths and weaknesses, need info. that only a mole in a foreign nation can attain, or need a connection or asset on another planet to hook you up with access to people, places, and things... That's the sort of thing that Emrys supplied.

Today though, was not a day for that. He had come "home" yesterday, from a tour of near-by systems. In a few days he was going back to his other home in Haviah. He sighed, trying not to think about whatever recent trouble Bevyn had likely gotten into while he'd been away the last few months. That boy was a waste of air. At least Jilana was showing promise... maybe one of the younger ones would eventually develop the gift and he'd be able to add a third generation Pilot to the family.

None of that for now though. He tried to put it out of his mind as he turned the corner and headed down a side street. He was dressed too nicely for this part of town - it wasn't a sleazy area or one prone to crime, but he stuck out - looked too expensive for it, in a starched three peace suit. It was a light almost lavender grey suit with a tie that very nearly matched the sky-blue of his eyes. The color paired nicely with his ivory skin and the slight hint of blue in his otherwise blonde hair.

Emrys smiled faintly as he walked into the bar, visibly relaxed, as if someone had pulled out the stick that seemed permanently up his ass based on his posture. "It's been a while Emrys," the bartender said as he smoothed his hands across the polished bar top, "you hanging around for a while this time or just stopping over before your next hop off planet."

"Somehow," Emrys said, "I managed five days of leave and a short assignment back home in Haviah."

"Nice," the bartender turned slightly and picked up a bottle before raising it up toward him slightly, "whisky neat?"

Emrys nodded, and once the drink was poured, it was a double shot, he picked it up and scanned the bar for interesting or attractive faces. There was one, brunette in a corner booth. She was attractive in a toned-down kind of way, but he wasn't really looking at that at the moment anyway. He'd met Sparrow, or fellow Pilot Anderson, in passing before. He might as well say hello to her.

Graceful movements pulled Emrys' lanky frame across the small room, past a few other tables to Sparrow's table. He took a slow sip from his drink. "I hope the evening is treating you well," his voice was deep with a warm timber, and soft around the edges in a way that usually put people at ease without even giving them a mental nudge that he tended to when he wasn't on his home planet - a thing he'd never do here, and especially not to a fellow Pilot, without specific cause and real justification. "Would you mind some company?"

[Blink]

Sucking on her tongue an unpleasant noise emanated from Sparrow’s mouth. It was hard to decide whether another glass would be in order or if she should just call it a night. From the moment she punched out she had been there, in that exact spot debating after every glass whether to just go home or stay for just one more. It was a vicious cycle of debate and self-discipline that Sparrow was failing at with each turn. Drinking at home was always an option but these days even her apartment just seemed too quiet. Except for Pixie’s gnawing on a spranger bone to count as background noise but even that faded into the lull of silence. There was always the option of hanging out with her squadmates after a long day to help curb the silence and from time to time Sparrow did just that. Today though was a minor change in scenery. Alone, but at one of the few hole in the wall places you would have to know Adstreia to know it existed is where Sparrow found herself tonight. And tonight, she planned to wholeheartedly drink until that silence at home was no longer going to bother her.

This wasn’t a pity party, or a woe is me drinking festival with only Sparrow as the sole attendee. This was her toast to being exactly who she was in and out. Sparrow lifted her almost empty glass as she clinked the air in front of her.

“I don’t give a fuck”, muttered under her breathe as another sip burned her throat. With lips pursed and transformed into a tense smile Sparrow lifted her glass once more, but only to signal a refill was due. Pixie who was always with her at every step, including in a bar, shifted under the table (that he barely fit under) to find a new place of comfort for his continued evening nap.

Once again, her glass was filled, and Sparrow went back to staring off into space as she mulled over the thoughts dragging and dancing along in the back of her mind. ” Breaking up with someone is supposed to make you cry, isn’t it? Am I supposed to cry or feel bad right now?” There was no denying the minor pain in her chest that still remained even after the amount of time that had passed. But it was a pain that was manageable, even more so by the lovely drink in her hand night after night. If anything she saw all of this as just one big lesson. There was no sense in beating yourself up over mistakes, only working towards never making them again. That was exactly what it was, just one huge mistake that she would never make again. It was a stupid impulse that put her job at risk and her own mental well-being in line to being messed with. Yep, he was the last mistake she would ever make in that department again.

The thought process was interrupted by Pilot Noble Broin approaching her table with his own glass of whiskey in hand. Pixie again shifted under the table to see the incoming potential threat only to lay back down after getting a whiff of the man he had seen several times at the flight bay. Sparrow looked him over and deducted he looked exactly how she had seen him many times before. Tall with hair the polar opposite of her own dark auburn mess. Even his suit made her look like something that had crawled from the sewers. Sparrow was sporting a black Hellion’s tank top and a pair of jeans with her less than tamed hair knotted into a bun or potential tumbleweed on the top of her head.

With a simple nod, Sparrow gestured towards the chair at the other side of her table. “Don’t step on Pixie’s tail or you might lose your leg.” She took another sip of her drink and then propped her elbow up to keep the glass near her face. “Or he may lick it like a lollipop. Who knows?”

In truth, Sparrow knew Pixie would never unless commanded to do so. Or unless he did something that made her feel threatened and Pixie acted on instinct. “So… why are you all dressed up like that for? Wedding? Funeral? Party? Creepy obsession with being perfect all the time? Or are you one of those people who dress according to their moon phase or whatever?” Her humor was dry and something she and her squadmates could usually banter back and forth with. Could Emrys handle it? Regardless Sparrow was determined to get laughs out of this. Whether he joined in or became the butt of her next joke was completely up to him.

[Marjorie]

Polar opposites, yes, one could call them that. Not just in the way they looked, but also the way they acted, and the work that they did. Emrys had an Upper Cast pedigree and that dictated a certain amount of class and manners no matter where he was, least he ruin his reputation and social standing. Matter-of-fact, being some place like this would probably raise a few eyebrows around certain tables, if they knew he was a regular they would just laugh at the absurdity. He didn't care about that so much, but if he didn't keep up the appearance of how he acted in public it might cause him an issue. Beside how they acted, he was also a spy and she killed people. So yes, they were quite opposite.

Emrys chuckled softly at Sparrow's warning. "I wouldn't dare," he said, regarding the dog for a moment, then making a show of giving Pixie's tail a wide birth, before sitting down. His lips quirked up in a slight smile. "Creepy obsession with being perfect all the time," he shrugged, as if it aught to be obvious.

He put his hand down, for the dog to sniff, and then took another sip of his drink. "May I ask in return," he said a polite expression on his face, but good humor in his eyes, "why you're slumming it tonight?

[Blink]

With the glass still at her lips, Sparrow took another swig as Emrys confessed to wanting to be perfect all the time. A corner of her lip curled upward at the thought of wanting to be that prim and proper all the time. The building smile was short-lived though at his next inquiry.

“Slumming it?” With a choke she finally set down the half-empty glass.

“This is the kind of place I prefer to be in. People who work hard and just want to relax after a long day come here. I have absolutely no want or need to go to one of those crazy busy nightclubs with irritating loud music.” Holding up a finger Sparrow continued. “Or one of those fancy pants places that shouldn’t even call themselves a bar. Just because you serve alcohol doesn’t make you one. And sipping on sweet champagne while listening to a piano concerto in the background is completely absurd.” It took everything not to gag at the thought of someone considering one of those places ‘fun’.

“Now if you meant wanting to know why I’m here…” she gestured at the lovely surroundings “…. Simply put I am avoiding my apartment because for one it’s disgustingly dirty and I don’t feel like cleaning. Two, it still smells like burnt charcoal after my latest attempt at breakfast. Three, they have more booze here than in my fridge and I don’t have to keep getting up to pour my own glass.”

“And what about you? Why would you be slumming it in a place like this?”

While her words may have come off as combative they were far from it. There was a true curiosity as to why he was in a place like this when he cared enough about his appearance to dress as he did. It was only the whiskey currently rooting its way through her that made her conversation points seem so harsh. Also, the lack of worry of offending anyone, including a Pilot Noble (Shhh don’t tell Grisham).

[Marjorie]

Well... he didn't actually, want to be prim and proper all the time, not even perfect really - better than you, yes, but even he wouldn't assess himself as perfect all the time. "Well, like you said... all those seemly places I aught to be spending my time, are, frankly, boring." That was bold faced lie, but one he delivered with the ease of sincere truth and not a flicker of dis-ingenuousness. In fact, he liked packed, loud dance clubs, and quiet, classy coital bars... "I also do prefer a smooth whisky to champagne."

Not to worry, he wasn't offended anyway.

"Besides..." he said, his gaze catching her over the rim of his glass as he took another sip from it, "where else could I find such good company, as yourself?" The corners of his mouth turned up in the kind of smile that made most women swoon. He wasn't really flirting, but he was teasing.

[Blink]

She offered a simple nod as he explained how truly boring those places were. It was nice to have someone agree with her for once rather than sway her on how great they really were. Even better was his preference to whiskey over champagne. Finally, some good company to sit and have a good drink with. Not that there was anything wrong with other hard liquors, but whiskey had always seemed to hit her just right… that or a good rum.

Instinctively, Sparrow went for another sip before Emry’s next comment. It wasn’t the words so much as the smile that caused her to choke making the whiskey burn even more than usual. It was all quickly overcome though with a solemn look of complete and utter obliviousness that followed.

“Me? Good company?” a laugh escaped as she cleared her throat. “You clearly don’t know me very well then.”

His smile had no effect as the shock wore off and she played it all off as a reaction to her being considered ‘good company’. In her mind, Sparrow had forced herself to believe she was just the opposite of that. She knew she was harsh, rude, disrespectful, etc. It had been made a point early in her life she was an unpleasant creation of Aedolis. That point being something that she had ran with for much of her life towards anyone outside of her small Hellion family.

[Marjorie]

Well... now, it was the genuine surprise in response to his smile - she could think whatever she wanted, but he was aware that the response happened in time with his smile. The way he looked at her shifted a little, and he leaned in slightly, the way that people who were interested in something did. She might not have been good company, that was subjective... but she was getting more attractive by the moment. Emrys wasn't used to bluntness, honesty, or even just a lack of care for appearances - he was also used to people wanting or expecting something from him. It was in the very nature of his official and actual jobs though. His whole life was entrenched in lies - acting one way, doing another. As a diplomat in the public eye, people always wanted or expected something from him - as a spy under it all, everything he did and said was usually a lie unless it was in his very redacted files and reports.

It was, in a word, refreshing to meet someone who was straight up honest with him, and wasn't trying to sweet talk something out of him, or attempting to suck up to him to gain political or social favor.

"Perhaps you don't know yourself to well," he countered, casting her a look that clearly said you're more interesting than you let on as he raised his glass up to his lips again, intent on drinking the stuff much slower than Sparrow was.

[Blink]

Matching Emrys, Sparrow lifted her own glass. It was the last bit of her drink and so she lifted it up to signal for yet another refill after. Her alcohol tolerance was amazingly high for someone of her stature and build. Years of training and nearly killing herself with alcohol poisoning had made for one hardy, whiskey-drinking woman. Her poor liver though probably was on the brink of expiration at the rate she had been putting it back lately.

“I assure you I know myself quite well. I spend enough time by myself to know what kind of person I am.” With a freshly filled glass, she took another swig. “I did convince someone once that I was a bar of lavender soap.” As if challenging him Sparrow narrowed her gaze. “I am very good at letting people know only what they need to know about me.”

“So Mr. Fancy pants. I can call you that right? Mr. Fancy pants?” Without even waiting for a response she continued. “Well Mr. Fancy pants, tell me more about yourself. What do you do for fun? Where are you always coming and going from or to? Why do you think the color purple is good in a suit? These are the mysteries I am dying to know.”

[Marjorie]

"Sometimes," Emrys said, "people reveal more about themselves by the things they leave out." He smirked when she said she'd convinced someone she was a bar of soap. "I wonder..." he said with a touch of real curiosity, "do you smell like lavender soap, then?" Now he was wondering what she smelled like - what kind of soap did she use, did she use a scented body lotion? All... interesting topics, he wasn't quite ready to think she wouldn't kick his ass for asking yet. 

Emrys' smile deepened to a grin, as he finished off the last of his drink and ordered another... make that one to her... was it around 4 or 5 by now? He hadn't been here when she's started. He brushed his fingers lightly against the heavy, but very soft fabric of his slacks. "Well, yes," he said, "my pants are quite fancy, and rather expensive."

He paused a moment to thank the waitress to deliver his new dink before answering Sparrow's questions. "I'm always coming and going from work. Keeping up interplanetary relations of Aedolis is a never-ending task."

As for the comment about his suit, he made a face of mock offence. "Do you not like it?" he looked distressed, but in a playful way. "I rather thought the color brought out the blue in my eyes. Please let me know if it is terrible, I will be sure to reprimand my tailor for letting me be seen in public as such."

Emrys gave the answer to her first question last though. "What I do for fun... well, I'm a social creature, I enjoy life the most with others." That was mostly true, anyway, but his demeanor left no doubt that it was honest sincerity, "I like meeting and getting to know new people, I enjoy dancing, but not formal balls," he made a face, "I enjoy shopping, for clothes, mostly." He had a lot of credit to his name, money was never an object for him.

[Blink]

She squinted when asked if she smelled like lavender soap. Part of her was curious if he already knew the answer and had some sort of supersonic smell. Of course, she smelt like lavender soap. She had her own line of lavender-scented bath products and got them for free because of it. Why waste a single credit on something readily available and free?
“I smell like a mixture of shit and probably jet fuel…” she pretended to sniff her arm for a second. “... Perhaps a hint of some floral bullshit but I assure you it’s mainly shit.”

As Emrys explained his work Sparrow traced her fingers over the brim of her glass. Interplanetary relations made sense as to why she saw him so often. Being a part of a squad that monitored the flight bay put her right in the center of most coming and going. When he joked about his suit Sparrow pretended to carry a foreign accent for a moment “It’s absolutely dreadful. You must fire the incompetent tailor at once.”

Going on he explained how he was a social creature as most were. With the talk of social balls, Sparrow couldn’t help but form hundreds of little jokes about people who would go to those sorts of things.

“Meeting new people can sometimes be fun, or it can be boring and a waste of time. I tend to stick with the group that I know and trust. I suppose since I see you enough at work, even if we don’t talk, that you could be considered ‘okay’. If you weren’t, I would have already signaled for Pixie to grab your balls or something along those lines. He’s quite good at fetch.  Shopping, on the other hand, sounds completely awful and boring. I make it a priority to only buy things I know I will use until it literally falls apart. That is unless I get it for free.” Sparrow tugged at the Hellions tank top as an example.

“The way I grew up I saw how wasteful people can be sometimes. It bothered me to no end how good things get thrown away like trash.” She paused at her very own statement. Something about it caused a pang of discomfort in her chest. Being thrown away like trash… like it never mattered at all. Unlike the many times before Sparrow emptied her glass in one breath rather than in small sips. It was obvious her mood had shifted as she stared into the now empty glass.

“But I don’t give a single fuck.” That was right. She wasn’t going to give that mistake the satisfaction of being upset over it.

“I’m tired of sitting. Are you tired of sitting?” Her words were still only slightly slurred as she pushed back her chair to stand up. “Let’s go for a walk or something.” Pixie shot up at the mention of a ‘walk’. “Even better is that even though it’s dark out we can totally see! You’re like a flashlight!” Sparrow whipped around to look at him. “Or a ghost!”

[Marjorie]

Emrys took in an over exaggerated breath threw his nose. "Best smelling shit I ever smelled then" and no, he couldn't actually smell her at this distance. He'd have to be well into her personal space for that.

"Absolutely," he agreed about the tailor - he actually had one, and of course, he wasn't going to fire her anytime soon. She created works of art for him to wear, really, and the way she adjusted the cut of his dress uniforms... nothing ever felt or looked so good as the clothes she made for him.

"Pity, about the shopping," he said, "I could imagine you'd look stunning all dolled up." He was going to say more, however; stopped himself when Sparrow shared something real, something intimate and personal. He forgot, sometimes, how easily he gained people's trust - even if she shut herself down quickly. His expression shifted to something earnest and kind. The 'but I don't give a fuck', clearly changed the subject though, so he did as well, adding something light-hearted and teasing. "But I do recycle. I would never just... throw things," or people, "away."

When she... told him they were going for a walk, Emrys nodded and then tossed back the rest of his half full glass of whisky. Make that two to her... who knew how many. "Of course," he said in a teasing gesture of chivalry, "whatever the lady wishes," and offered her his arm when he rose to his feet.

[Blink]

’Whatever the lady wishes’

Sparrow wanted to gag at the very thought of being considered a ‘lady’.  As they stood, she couldn’t help but side-eye him with a look that made it clear she was judging him all over again. To add insult to injury he offered his arm as if she needed escorting across the harmless bar. All of it made her stomach churn the same way it did after several hours of zero gravity training. Or it could have been the alcohol finally settling into her system now that she was standing….

Either way, Sparrow knew she didn’t like it and was going to put a stop to it right there.

The judgment faded as a smartass smirk spread across Sparrow’s lips. This was something she had done several times before and Emrys was about to learn just a little bit more about Pilot Echo Sparrow Anderson. It started with the feeling of her hair standing on end just like when socks are rubbed on the carpet for too long. It built and waited within her for that perfect moment of release beneath the invisible barrier of her skin. The anticipation of his reaction was almost too much as she slowly went to wrap her arm around his. Of course, it was all just an act to get the point across that she was neither a lady nor needed escorting in any shape or form. She was a Hellion dammit.
 
At the moment of contact Sparrow exhaled as the static electricity traveled from her skin to his. It wasn’t enough to permanently harm him but more than Sparrow would have given a civvie for touching her. The thought of hurting him didn’t really cross her mind, or the thought of sending a shock into a Pilot Noble. Sparrow simply wanted to get her point across. No touch.

Pulling her arm back to her own side Sparrow continued on walking, laughing as she made her way to the door.

“Come on fancy pants”

[Marjorie]

Well, frankly, Emrys hadn't touched her, she had touched him... he had merely offered her a nicety. The jolt caused a viable spark on his whole suit, and he yanked his arm back, reflexively widening his stance, turning so he half faced her still moving, and loosened as if preparing for a more definitive physical assault - which of course, he knew wasn't actually going to come. By the time he'd taken a second step after the little shock, Emrys looked like nothing in the world had happened at all. He did not offer her his arm again though, and made a mental note not to offer such niceties as those in the future.

Emrys even managed to crack a rather convincing smile.

"Did you have a direction or destination in mind?" he asked, keeping step with Sparrow, but minding the couple inches of distance between them. "Even if you don't," he added, "the weather is rather nice tonight... I'm not against a little aimless wondering."

[Blink]

With the jolt, Sparrow half expected a more explosive response. At this point, she couldn’t quite figure out why Emrys was still wanting to walk with her. From the moment he had sat down at her table she had been a far cry from polite. On a normal night, these types of exchanges usually ended with the other guy scooting away. Yet, Emrys stayed and Sparrow did not know whether to be impressed or afraid. Was he staying because he was secretly a serial killer?

’ I’d like to see him try.” Her own private challenge to have anyone try and do something like that to her.

“Uh… aimless wondering sounds fine. It’s been a while and I tend to get into trouble if I go looking for something.” The trouble she was referring to being the onslaught of PR nightmares she had created for the Hellions in the past. It wasn’t like she went looking for a way to get into trouble. Most of the time the trouble found her and Sparrow simply handled it in her own special way. In her mind being cordial and respectable to someone who was clearly bothering her was just not possible.

The generated air was indeed nice for the night. Especially how clear it made the sky look above the dome. It wasn’t often when the weather in the wastes cooperated with the synchronized and generated weather within Adstreia. The clarity was almost calming to her otherwise constantly combative mindset. Sparrow was visually relaxed as she walked, looking up and taking in the view. Pixie picked up on Sparrow’s now calm mind and also relaxed with his walk.

“Have you ever been outside the dome? Like… out in the wastes between the cities without the security of the rail or ships?”

[Marjorie]

Emrys nodded amiably and allowed Sparrow to guide them without actually falling in step behind her. He could sense her confusion ans curiosity about him, but didn't press.  He also sensed the way she relaxed, and he decided that, she looked a lot more attractive with all the lines of tension let loose from her body.

"Well... not outside... like exposed to the environment, but in a protective suit, once." He gave a rueful smile and shrugged, "My job as an Interplanetary Diplomat," read that as spy,"requires I sometimes tend to and make reality the eccentric tastes and curiosities of foreign and domestic... ah... higher ups." Meaning any number of people who outranked him in the grand scheme of things be they military or politicians. He glanced up at the stars, and realizing how rarely he'd actually been able to see them threw the dome, found himself staring a moment at the serenity of the view, before he cut his gaze back to Sparrow.

"It's not so very interesting out there... the air, of course, is prone to clouds of noxious gasses, and basically everything's dead out there."

[Blink]

“So you schmooze a bunch of other fancy pants people with fancy food and fancy entertainment. That sounds horrible.” Truly, people pleasing was never Sparrow’s strongest suit. So thinking of doing it for a living sounded god-awful to her.

Noxious gasses, everything dead or quickly becoming dead, not interesting. Yep, a pretty accurate description of the hellscape that Sparrow had survived in for an entire week with a broken helmet and shorted chip. If she hadn’t been an electro and unable to rewire and charge her Com for a brief encrypted message she probably would have died out there. Talking about it was something her therapist suggested to get over the trauma the entire incident had caused. Talking about it also meant Sparrow had to have a conversation with others about a very vulnerable time in her life.

“I’ve been out there.”

Pixie whimpered as he picked up on Sparrow’s change in emotional state. He had been trained for this should another PTSD attack be looming.

“You described it perfectly. It’s completely uninhabitable and too dangerous.” Averting her gaze to Pixie she continued. “I was testing out a new Pilot Assist program in one of our jets out in the wastes. Mine malfunctioned and caused a total system failure.” Sparrow could hear the alarms from the jet in the back of her mind. “I was forced to bail on the aircraft and crashed alone out there. My helmet was cracked, and my gear fried. I had to emit a field to brace my landing and so it shorted out everything, including my chip.”

“I survived for 7 days before Grisham found me. I had crashed so far from the jet they weren’t able to locate me at first. They were 7 days of hell so you are right.” Sparrow finally turned to Emrys. “Nothing interesting out there.”

[Marjorie]

Emrys sensed the change in Sparrow as quickly as Pixy had. Well... he passively picked up on the emotions of everyone within a range that could be described as being in eye-shot of him (even threw buildings and other obstacles that prevented him from actually seeing them). So there was no surprise there, however; he also happened to very keenly understand emotions - and emotional damage, which seemed to be the case here. Emrys didn't interrupt, sensing importance in the moment - sharing a personal trauma, with (he realized) he amounted to nearly a perfect stranger was rare... but he also was aware of how easily people connected to him and came to trust him - he banked on that, in fact. It wad vital to his job, but he also longed to be able to connect to others in that way in return. He realized he was personally flawed in that. What he couldn't have himself though, he deigned to give to her at the moment though. He gave her undivided, and very rarely, nonjudgmental attention.

"It's incredible your survived," he said when she'd seemed to finish, stating the obvious, but also reflecting back at her that she was indeed lucky, and his tone suggested a touch of gratefulness that she had, indeed, survived. "I can't immagine how difficult it was for you out there." Well he could, but not having been in the circumstance, he couldn't immagine how she had actually felt then. They were the open-ended kinds of statements that encouraged people to elaborate or not, as they saw fit... and then he left comfortable silence, with no pressure for her to give more in their wake.

[Blink]

Therapy had helped a lot with Sparrow’s trauma. Small steps from when the incident had happened to now made her panic attacks to almost completely stop. She had found that talking about it really did help a lot even if she was the type of person to not open up about her personal life. Life would have been easier if she could have kept going on acting like it didn’t phase her. However, doing that in the beginning only made things worse. Opening up about her experience in the wastes was what she needed to get past the entire thing.

“You sound like my therapist.” His response was almost a mirror to how her therapist had first reacted to her story.

“Stop trying to please me like you do with your other fancy pants friends.” Sparrow had reverted to her normal self by then. It was time to call him on his actions from the minute he sat at her table back at the bar. “What’s your game plan here Emrys?”

[Marjorie]

Emrys cracked an only slightly apologetic smile. "Sorry," he shrugged, clearly not actually sorry, "I'm an empath." He tapped his temple briefly with his right pointer finger, "it comes to me naturally." He was also trained in all kinds of psychology, though he was not a therapist, the better to manipulate people with. It wasn't what he was trying to do here though.

Then he smirked, when she called him fancy pants again. "Oh, is that what you though? I was trying to please you?" That smirk turned into a wide, teasing grin. "Is it working?"

"Well," he said, "despite what I believe to be an actual attempt to make yourself unattractive most of the time, I've always found you attractive... and I was hoping to take you home to my bed --- assuming of course, you wouldn't electrocute me if I did." If she wanted blunt and on the nose, he could give her that.

[Blink]

From the start of their conversations, Sparrow did not know whether to be humiliated or humbled by Emry’s responses. It was almost like every exchange was a calculated way of completely cutting past the hostility Sparrow was laying out. The fact that he was an empath only furthering Sparrow’s concern that he was twisting things in his favor.

The admittance of always finding her flattering was another statement that left Sparrow confused. Was he telling her that because he wanted her to believe it was true? Was saying that he wanted to take her home another way of him twisting this entire conversation?

There was a pause as Sparrow squinted trying to muster the correct combination of words for a dignified response. This was truly a rare occasion that she found herself speechless and unable to come back just as fast with a quick wit cut down. When it did finally hit her, she couldn’t help but mirror the teasing grin he had been flashing at her.

“Some guys like that.” Her brow was raised as she crossed her arms. “Regardless, why didn’t you just say so from the beginning? I really only have one condition for these kinds of arrangements.” Sparrow paused again to build some form of suspense.

“Do you have ice cream? Preferably the kind with little chocolate swirls and nuts in it?” Pixie started wagging his tail at the mention of ice cream. Lately, he and his mom had been eating a lot of it.