Nothing but used

Sable sighed to herself, staring up at the water as it poured of her body. Her room was off of the main room and easily the largest, but also the emptiest. She had only a few cloths as to the comparison of most. Her gold eyes sad and the lighting making her scar seem to be as an attention attracter as a fire on her pale face. Her long and luscious brown hair pressed to her body as if it were molded there. Steam everywhere and blood rinsing down the drain. Her hand stung and she pulled it up to her face. Gently she pried out the shards of glass and winced. How painful. Yet she didn't shed a tear for the physical pain.

Once more her brother had betrayed her. Once more he had made her out to look like a bad guy. In a sense she was a murderer, and in another sense she was just doing her job. Her orders came from her brother and yet, he disowned her as if she were some sort of criminal, but in a way she guessed she was. She had been in jail a dozen times, but her brother bailed her out and now... Her fist clenched causing blood to pump out quicker. A sort of crimson rain falling from her hand. No matter how much she scrubbed she knew she was just scum.

It was a while before she stepped out and found herself simply wrapping a towel around her body and sinking in her large chair. Steam came from the bathroom, but Sable was focused on instead the wall. As if there was something important. It was late, everyone but the guards were asleep and Sable was alone and feeling even lonelier. Yet she knew she wasn't going to try and escape. Her eyes closed, she listened softly to the rain on the pane of the window, humming a sort of melody to it.

Sam sighed and looked up at the building. The last thing he wanted was to face Wolfe again, but his boss, who hadn't been all too sympathetic upon hearing about Sam's experience, had ordered him to check it out. Even though, and Sam had made this clear, the mafia wasn't under his jurisdiction. His boss had said that since Wolfe had seen his face before, and had let him live, she must hold some sort of trust or respect for him. Sighing, Sam let his fist linger at the door, wondering if he really wanted to go through with this. He could tell the boss there'd been no one there. It wouldn't be totally unbelievable. Of course, Sam didn't want to be considered weak. By anyone. So, hoping that this wouldn't result in his ultimate death, Sam knocked on the door.

There was a moment of silence after a knock and Wolfe stood up. She had an odd look on her face that read; visitors? At this hour? Each step was elegant and she had no idea why she was the one answering the door. Maybe it had struck her the fact that everyone else seemed to be asleep, nonetheless, she found herself walking up and grabbing the knob. With a twist, she yanked the door open, a creaking sound from the old hinges.

It took her a moment as she stared at the man as if she had no idea who he was, but slowly the gears turned and she smiled softly. "Hello agin." She paused a moment wondering why it was so cold before she realized she had still just been in a towel. Blushing from her foolishness. "Uhmm hold on vone minute." She said and disappeared, reappearing with a robe around her body. Rubbing the back of her head, she smiled nervously. "Sorry, I just finished mine shover...I hope you are feelings ok?" It was obvious she felt awkward and slightly embarrassed by her accident especially with the change of subject.

Sam studied Wolfe as she answered the door. Nothing but a towel, he thought, looks like I came at a good time. "Hello," he greeted lazily. He didn't want to be here, but she shouldn't know that, because it would raise the question of 'why did he come?' and he'd have no answer. Worse case scenario, she found out he was a cop and had him tortured for information. Best case scenario, they talked about the mob over tea and she shared with him all of the secrets of the mob. Both seemed a little far fetched, but Sam hoped the result would at least be close to the best case scenario.

When Wolfe came back in a towel, Sam couldn't say he wasn't disappointed. He'd quite enjoyed the view, after all. But that wasn't what he'd come here to do. "It's fine," he assured her. "I...I've felt better. Still recovering from your brute ape mates threatening to beat me to death, but I suppose I suppose I don't have to worry about them anymore. Besides, it's not like I would have made it easy for them." He gave a short, humorless chuckle.

Sable fixed her hair and nodded, for once no shades and no hair in her face. "I truly do apologize, if it vere up to me.. I vouldn't be here." She sighed, tying the rope around her waist tighter and opening the door. "Is chilly outside. Shall you vish to come in I assume?" Her voice lacked the usual spark.. Deep down, she was still hurting and confused but she refused to show. He had come back, she would be arrested? Maybe but that didn't bother her. A soft drip on her hands and she rested her hand on the doorknob's coolness. Once he had a seat, she'd take care of it.

Sam nodded. "It's fine," he muttered, even though it wasn't. But he didn't want to get on Wolfe's bad side. He may be an ass, but he wasn't stupid. "Uh, yeah, I'll come in," he said. Again, he didn't want to, but his boss would never let him live it down if he didn't. He could almost hear the smug bastard now. "Oh, no! The great Ayden Smith, scared? Dear God, it's the apocalypse!" Even in the office, they didn't use each other's real names. You never knew who might be on Kira's side, not even in the SPK.

Sable sighed and nodded, motioning to a couch. "Everyvone is asleep, so you can relax, as I'm sure you are here for business-like reasons." Her eyes were still blank and she knew she wasn't feeling up to talking to anyone, but it was rude to turn away guests. "I vill be right back." she assured, disappearing into the bathroom once more. A small trail of blood behind her.

She wrapped her wound up in about two minutes before turning and walking back. Forcing on a smile, she sat in her chair. "So vat is it you need?" She asked half-heartedly. Her mind still racked with guilt and she seemed to be tearing apart herself, then again it was late and she was tired. Her hand reached forward and grabbed a small glass, taking a sip of the contents. "Seeing you tvice in vone day is no mere coi-inseyedince."

Sam nodded at her. "Sorry for coming so late," he said, even though he wasn't. Sam wasn't sorry for anything. He'd come late on purpose to ensure that he wouldn't be met by anymore gorilla body guards. He smiled a kind, affectionate, and utterly fake smile. "Take your time," he said. He hated this. Being nice to someone, polite even. It made him sick to his stomach. He looked at the blood trail that she left in mild interest as he waited for her to return. He knew he wouldn't have time to search the room, or anything of the sort. She said she'd be right back, hadn't she? At least, that's what he thought she said, but he couldn't be sure with her damn accent. If everyone had an Australian accent like his own, things would be so much simpler.

He nodded at her again as she came back. "Business-like reasons...not exactly," he lied, still smiling his fake smile. "I just, I don't know. Even though I know it's true, I can't believe you're in the mob. And a boss no less! It seems like a dangerous job, especially for a woman of your..." he paused, looking for the right word. "Physical condition." He decided that was an okay word, although he really meant something else by it. Sexual appearance, maybe.

Sable crossed her legs and swirled the contents, her eyes looking at the waves she created in the glass. A soft smile played on her lips, almost amused by the words. "Honestly if I had my choice. I vould not be here. Unfortunately it was not my choice, it vas mine uncle's." She looked away and stroked her chin softly and thoughtfully. "He is dead no... but it seems my brozer has but me in a bind. You see, he began ordering zat I take care of zese cert-aine persons, saying vonce done I could go home. But it seems he changed his mind." Her eyes were soft and she looked away. "I am as they ay scru-ved? (Screwed)."

She tapped her lip and poured some more wine in her glass. A sigh fell from her lips, "So yes, I am zeh boss, I assume, you vish to arrest me, Mr. Officer?" She looked up. "It is unlucky for you zat even if you did, my brozer would just bail me out, zen keel me as vell." How did she know of his police rank, simple how else would he have found the 'lair' with such ease.

Sam nodded as she spoke. "No one says scru-ved," he told her irritably when she was done talking. He couldn't help but let it slip out. Her accent irked him. It was irksome. "But I think I can guess what you mean. That sucks, I suppose." He closed his eyes and yawned. He was so goddamn tired. Why did he have to come here so late.

The second Wolfe said 'officer' though, his eyes popped open. Oh, yeah. That's why. His eyes narrowed and darkened slightly. She wasn't making any move to kill him, which was good. But she knew he worked for the police, which was bad. No point in denying it now. "How is that unlucky for me?" he snapped, back to his old self now that he had nothing to hide, "Seems like it'd be more unlucky for you. I mean, nothing bad in it for me at all. At least I wouldn't have to deal with that irksome accent of yours anymore!" A little cold, perhaps, but if she already knew of his profession, he could only assume a mere insult wouldn't change much.

Sable winced as he snapped at her, but she simply took it. "Hrmm, I suppose I have used the wrong vord then. Unlucky isn't eet, more of.... You kno nevermind, it is nothing to vorry about, simply do vat you must. My fate has been decided." Slowly, she stood to her feet and placed the bottle in front of him. "As vell you confuse me, I bore you and yet you keep yelling about ze accent being a problem. Perhaps you are simply just a cold person." She sighed. "Either vay I'm not sure vhy I keep talking to you. You simply vant me in jail as all the rest. Not zat eet is..." Her eyes stared out the window. She didn't finish the sentence and simply sighed. "I vish my voice vasn't so irratating for you, but zen vy vould it matter you'd find somezing else."

There was a pause before she smiled softly, almost amused. "Perhaps if you are so annoyed vith my vay of speaking.. zen you shall help me speak better, hmm?" She leaned down to look him in the eyes. "Because I suppose it vould be easier if you could understand my speaking?" She winked playfully, "Just be gentle."

Sam snorted. "As much as I love seeing people wallow in their own misery, that's a load of shit. Fate can easily be changed, if you stop whining and do something about it. You want to keep alive, get away from your brother? You can do that. Even if it means killing him, you can do that."

He studied her carefully as she spoke again. "Me? A cold person?" Sam feigned shock, "Dear god, you have to be kidding me! Wherever did you get such a preposterous idea?" He chuckled. "Look, I know I'm not all happy and warm and caring all the time, but that doesn't mean I'm here to arrest you or kill you or anything of the sort. As for your voice, you're probably right about that. What can I say? I'm not much of a people person."

He studied the bottle she'd set in front of him. "Dear god, please tell me that is alcoholic," he muttered, "Because I could really use a drink." He glanced up from her, eyebrows still raised, looking almost hopeful. It was a sort of humanizing moment for Sam, although with the pleading tone in his voice and hopeful eyes, he resembled a puppy begging for a treat.

Sable laughed lightly, she seemed to love when he got fired up. Why did she think that? Even she didn't know, adjusting her bandages, she fixed herself and smiled before sitting down. "I suppose. But if I did, vould zat truly get me out of trouble? I don't know." As he ranted about her 'just' noticing he was cold, she could only let off a small giggle.

Stretching her arms, she looked at him with a comforting grin, "Of course." She nodded to the bottle. "You vant some, you can have some." Her eyes batted a moment. "By zeh vay, my name is actually Sable." She said softly. "But of course you probably knew zat." Her lips pressed to her glass as she took another swallow of her own liquid.

Sam shrugged. "Who knows? And, honestly, who cares? It's worth a shot, isn't it? If there's even a slimmer of hope that it may work and you may be out of trouble, you should go for it. If it doesn't work, you try something else. Eventually, you'll either be dead or out of trouble. Believe me, I'm speaking from experience. And, seeing as I'm not dead yet, I'd like to say most of my plans have worked out for the better." He grinned. "Although, that's not to say I haven't been threatened, or held at gunpoint, or anything like that. But I managed to make it through!" He sounded proud of himself for lasting this long, which he was. With his attitude, he hadn't expected to make it past 20, much less to live to actually be 23! Of course, from here on out, he couldn't be sure.

He looked at the bottle, shrugged, and took a gulp. The alcohol burned going down, but it was familiar and Sam liked it. "Sable," he repeated. Of course, he'd already checked in with his boss for her real name, but he hadn't expected her to say it straight up.

Sable laughed lightly, "Lasted zis long? You can't be zat old!" She teased a sincere smile on her face. "As vell an odd zing to here from someone of your rank. Aren't yu supposed to be convinsing me to do legal zings?" She downed another sip and looked away, "Of course, not zat I mind." She felt oddly comfortable around the man who seemed to have nothing but hate. Her mind wondered over why, making her tap her chin in thought. She wondered how she must seem to others, the way she acted unlike the mob boss she was.

Not bothering to ask his name, she tapped her foot, humming thoughtfully. She felt oddly in a good mood. Maybe the alcohol was getting to her, maybe not, but either way, she felt much better.

Sam grinned. "I'm older than you are," he taunted, childishly sticking out his tongue. "Besides, I'm old enough, considering..." he trailed off as he took another gulp of the drink she'd given him. He looked up at her, eyes dancing with a faint amusement and a mild interest. "Please. You've talked to me before, we've had a few conversations. You honestly think I'm the sort of person who plays by the rules?" He snorted. "As for convincing you, consider it payback to the asshole who is my boss. Sent me to the goddamn mall. The mall. What kind of agent goes to the mall while on duty?"

He took another gulp of the drink. Things were getting blurry now--different. He hadn't planned on getting drunk, but hey, he had to do what he had to do, right? He could tell the boss some fake story about how he'd drunk to make her comfortable, or something. If he didn't end up getting shot by a not-so-sleepy bodyguard/ape. He heaved a sigh, trying not to let his hand go instinctively to his belt--to his gun. He didn't want to freak Wolfe out. She may not be the scary mob boss he'd expected her to be, but she probably wouldn't appreciate him playing with his gun while they were talking.

Sable scoffed and crossed her arms, "Are not! I bet I'm older." She teased back also sort of childishly. She didn't prod about why he was old enough and decided to leave it at that. He wasn't the type who'd enjoy spilling his life story. She couldn't help but laugh at his complaints about being stuck at the mall. A hand lingering on her lips momentarily in a sort of bashful way though she wasn't exactly all that shy. "I suppose zat is a bit harsh." Her words were somehow still distinct though his accent became slightly more prominent.

She hummed again, obviously content as her body leaned forward. Her lips held a great smile. Her body positioned so that she was still covered herself. "You should slow down, zat stuff is slightly strong." She teased softly. "Somezing you might not handle vell, not being from my home." Did it sound like a challenge? Yes. Was it? She didn't think so.

Sam shook his head. "I've read your file, remember? I know exactly how old you are, and I'd hope I know how old I am as well." Not that he'd ever celebrated his birthday. But he knew when it was, none the less. "A bit harsh?" he inquired, repeating her words, "It was criminal! People tried to...talk to me! And like, make friendly conversation. A lady asked me how my day was! It was nauseating!" He shuddered at the memory. He almost felt a twinge of sympathy for the man who'd dared to tell him 'good morning' when, in fact, it had been a terrible morning!

Glancing back up at Wolfe, Sam scowled. "Please," he scoffed, "I can stomach my alcohol. I sure as hell have the genes for it!" The last part was said somewhat bitterly, but it wasn't directed at Sable. He was simply accepting her challenge. If there was one thing Sam Davis could handle, it was a challenge that had to do with alcohol.

Sable laughed softly. "Yes it seems people do not realize all mornings are good. And zey say it at night too! How confusing!" She shook her head. "I see what you mean, zat vould be annoying." Her body relaxed as she took another sip of her alcohol. "Hmm seems you have me on zat. I do not kno your age, but I assume you can't be much older zen?" She placed her glass down once more.

His words made her laugh again with a slight roll of her eyes. "Honestly? You zink zat you can beat me? Zis stuff is much stronger zan your japanese sakes." She claimed in almost a proud tone. "As to be expected of course." Why was she taking pride? Who knew. However she was enjoying herself and she planned to continue with said enjoyment.

Sam nodded. "Finally! Someone who understands! 'Good morning'...the nerve of that guy!" He took another swig of the drink, as if to further voice his annoyance. "Not much older," he admitted, "But older all the same."

Sam grinned. "I don't think I can beat you," he told her, "I know I can. Haven't lived in Japan long. I grew up in Australia, actually. But I did spend a year or two in Ireland. Would have stayed there, too, if my sister hadn't have figured out I was there. She kept sending me shit. Letters and pages from the goddamn bible. But they had good wine there, and I learned to hold my alcohol pretty damn well." He smirked at her. "So, yeah, I can beat you."

Sable leaned forward, arms crossed and allowing her body to emphasize itself naturally all the more. "You shouldn't underestimate me, I have been drinking a while myself, as is common in my country." Her face held a grin. "So for you to zink you can beat me is an admirable feat, unfortunately an impossibility." She played arrogant of course. She wasn't usually this cocky, but then again when challenged, she wouldn't back down. Her blood loved the feel of the challenge.

"And if a challenge is vat you vant, zen what is it exactly?" She grinned playfully. "Vhat do I get if I vin?" What did she expect him to say? The truth was she didn't she was hoping he'd back down because she simply loved to feel intimidating, despite the fact that her looks... well they were less than such. In fact her looks made her all that much less intimidating. Nonetheless, she still held a seductive smile with a glint of challenge in her eyes.

Sam grinned at her. "Oh, trust me, I'm not underestimating you, but remember to be careful when underestimating me, too. You'll see!" There was no way he was going to let her beat him. His pride simply wouldn't let him. Sam was usually this cocky, it was in his nature. He was a narcissist, after all, part of the reason why he refused to get close to anyone, why he pushed them all away.

"What will it be..." he repeated, thoughtfully. He hadn't thought about that. "Whatever you want," he told her simply. After all, he was going to win, wasn't he? But if she should somehow win and demand something from him that he wasn't able or willing to give him...well..he didn't think about it. She wasn't going to win!

Wolfe had a frown on her face as he claimed to be better. "Oh really? Zen let us see." She grinned, walking away, returning with another bottle. Placing ait down she smirked softly. "Name ze terms and ve shall be set." She wasn't one for making rules, simply being above them. Her hands rested on the bottle before she yanked the cork out.

"Make my vinnings vorth my vild?" She teased, a grin on her soft and seductive face. Her robe flitting beneath her with each movement. Her golden eyes full of a cocky challenge. Pulling out a glass she placed it next to her now-empty one. "Before ve start you need a glass to make you equal to myself. Sound fair?"

"I'll show you," Sam snapped irritably. He eyed the bottle carefully. Nodding, he looked back up at her and grinned. "Worth your while?" He replied, a smirk forming on his lips. "And what exactly is that supposed to mean?" He looked at the glass she'd brought back. "Sounds fair," he agreed, "Shall we start?"

Of course Sable didn't really understand what she really meant. She was simply playing the part she was used to. What did the cop have that she didn't? She hadn't thought of that, The thrill of the challenge however was different. She nodded her head and waited for him to drain a glass with eager eyes. It was a strange thing to her. She never wanted to win so bad before. She wanted to prove him wrong and why? Because she had her own anxious pride.