Shades of Red [Bunny ║ Ryees]

[Bunny]

Hand grabbed she allowed herself to be dragged into the kitchen and she allowed the bubbly Madeline a smile. She liked the woman. Not nearly as much as she liked her Specter nor in the same fashion, but she liked the woman nonetheless. Commanded to pick a tea, Amoret decided to put real effort into her choice as Alphonse commented on the pose of the woman beside her. Her lips curled into a smile as she met his eyes before turning to the task she’d been given.

“I like tea,” she said in response to Jeff, her voice soft with that sweet little purr that Alphonse would know all too well from her. A canister was pulled down and opened as they talked behind and beside her. Inhaling she tilted her head, considering, before setting it back. A brow lifted as the fourth canister was placed back and she looked over her shoulder at the men. “Do I now?” Her eyes met Alphonse’s again and a pink brow rose lazily as she turned back to the cabinet.

That was the first she was hearing of it. Not many approached her and any she’d thought of including in her fucked up, bloody little world had run the other way. Most had ended up at the end of her knife.. Not all had been quick, some she couldn’t allow to tell but she’d no desire to draw out their pain. It had been self preservation than that aching, clawing need to kill.

“Not in particular,” she agreed with Madeline. “And most people who decide to interrupt a kill are not seen from again. Nothing is worse than having your fun ruined.” The way she said it, it could have alluded to an orgasm, though no one there knew or would guess that the pink haired killer was a virgin.

A not so friendly snort left her at the mention of Doey as she picked out a green and set it on the counter, her choice made. It was light, floral with hints of tropical fruits that would sweeten it. Leaning against the counter, her arms crossed as she watched the three. She didn’t miss having friends or family. At least not normally. This made something flicker to life but she squashed it firmly. Such things did not mesh with who, what she was. Though if anyone could, it would be the group around her.

Lie. She didn’t say it, but she knew it as a lie without questioning him. When Madeline bit him, Amoret couldn’t help but laugh, a low amused sound. Yes, she liked Madeline. Amused eyes watched as she demanded a real answer and the chair teetered on its two legs in a final threat to get a real answer from her Specter.

When her eyes found Amoret again, she flashed Madeline a slow, sensual curl of her lips. “Thank you.” She accepted the compliment and she nodded. “This one, please, Madeline?” She nudged the container closer to Madeline while taking a guess at her name, the only hint being Mads. Even with their little make-out session in the living room, neither of them knew what the plan was. Watching him be bullied had amused her, greatly. Still, the tiny pink haired devil took pity on him and crossed the room, brushing against Madeline as she moved past her.

Fingers ran through his hair, nails scratching lightly at his scalp. When he leaned back, she slipped into his lap. Like a cat marking her territory in some ways, she wanted to piss Doey off. Had that been the only reason, she might not have, she had after all promised to behave. Amoret though didn’t know boundaries like normal people though and she wanted to be close to him. The pair new now that there was something, so why hide it?

Curled in his lap she crossed her legs and looked to Madeline. “Thank you for the tea and the.. Mmn other offer. I think I will stick with tea for now though.” It was a polite decline. Not that she wouldn’t have been up for trying, something told her that her Specter wouldn’t share easily and as he was why she was here and who she craved…

 

[Ryees]

Even Madeline could not suppress the shiver when Amoret brushed past her, and made no effort to hide her staring as Blossom climbed into Alphonse's lap. She took the tea container when the decision was made, but stood in the middle of the kitchen holding the container for another beat. Her arms curled around the container and she hugged it as she watched them, spinning back and forth at the hips. "D'aww... This is good," he said, gesturing at the snuggled-up pair. "We like this. This is a good image. Very good, very good."

Even Jeff was grinning, looking at them. "Not gonna lie, it works," he agreed with a nod and a thoughtful grin. "You're the only one out of us that's never seemed interested in hooking up."

Madeline, pouring water from the sink into the kettle, nodded with her back turned. "We always thought Emmy and Marc would gay it up some time, but they don't seem to have the hots for each other."

"...And also Emmanuel's not gay," Jeff added flatly.

"But Marcus and him would be so cute togetherrr," she insisted, stomping back and forth on her feet. "Big Nigerian guy and little scruffy mechanic? C'mon."

"Rrright, but the ship doesn't sail if they're not both gay," Alphonse said, his voice cracking into a laugh.

"Heteroflexible!" Madeline shot back. "Like me! I'd do her—" she jerked her head at Blossom "—or you if I wasn't married to Jeff. What's a little dick between buds?"

Alphonse and Jeff were both barely containing their laughter, watching Madeline's tirade as she flitted from point to point, pulling a mug from the cabinet and a paper sachet from the countertop and a measuring spoon from the drawer and a scale from on top of the refrigerator. "Not everyone can be as open as you, Mads," Alphonse called back. As he did, his hand, seemingly unconsciously, tightened on Blossom's thigh, and when he added, "We can't all be willing to hop into bed with anyone, anytime," his arm snugged up a notch around Blossom's waist where he held her.

"You always were a late bloomer," she accused Alphonse, to which his face twisted skeptically.

"You've known me for four years, not since I was a toddler."

"And I've known her for four minutes," she retorted, nodding her head towards Blossom, "and I can already tell she's cooler than you."

"She does seem pretty cool, huh?" Marcus' voice echoed from the hallway as he poked just his head and shoulders into the room. "Sup? Tea time?"

"Yeah, you want?" Madeline asked a bit too enthusiastically.

"Nah, but I'll hang out." He stepped into the doorframe and leaned one shoulder against it, one hand in his pocket and the other raising in greeting to Blossom. "Nice t'meetcha properly. I'm Marcus. We've been callin' ya Blossom like the rest of the world, but y'gotta have a better name than that, right?"

Alphonse nodded quickly in agreement. "Yeah, what do I call you?" he asked in turn. He tilted aside to look up into her face, and for a moment the room seemed to disappear as she recaptured his attention. Facing away from him, the perfect curvature of her pink, plush lips could not pull him with their fae-like glamor, but the look in his eyes as his gaze landed on her face went noted by all three of his colleagues in the room. Jeff and Madeline shared a glance, and Marcus, already looking at Blossom for an answer to his question, perked his eyebrows up a notch at the attention and care that they had never seen emanating from their squad leader.

 

[Bunny]

Their little family was odd but Amoret found it charming in its own way. Mostly, it was Madeline that made her feel this way. Jeff, her partner, added to it, but mostly it was the fiery, flirtatious woman. It was decided, as she curled into Alphonse’s lap, that if it came down to it, she’d not kill either of them. She might even go out of her way to protect them. Maybe. Her lips curled, more willing to listen than join. Happy to be where she was, curled in his lap like a kitten.

Madeline closed a line for her though when she commented on Alphonse. She said nothing, but he’d feel her body still and something more predator looked out from her eyes for a moment before she pushed it away. Whether it was he could tell or it was his own feelings on the matter, the way his hands moved along her body, hand along her thigh and waist made her relax against him with a purr.

Chuckling she smiled again, that momentary flash of her inner monster vanishing as she grinned. Little details piled up, while some were not as important, the inner workings of their little family were slowly being revealed. Had Amoret not truly wanted to be with Alphonse, they might have helped her dismantle this team. Well that and it was too much effort. Amoret was a creature of passions and desires. Work and she didn’t often get along.

Her eyes shifted from Madeline to Marcus and she eyed him again. That same sort of look from before, like a kitten with a big fat juice bug. Her smile was a slow curl of lip before she looked back at Madeline. One of her hands traced absent patterns along the back of Alphonse’s neck with the tips of her nails. “I do.” She said in answer to his question, but when Alphonse asked, she looked directly at him. She wouldn’t have shared her name, had he not been the one to ask and after a moment, she answered. “Amoret.” Her nose brushed his almost playfully and she smiled before turning to face the others again.

A cup was offered and Amoret turned and took the steaming cup with both hands, her fingers grazing the other woman's, her smile slow and sweet. “Thank you.” It was a light form of flirting, one that for her meant little, but she knew that Madeline would enjoy. The cup was set on the table before her, before her arms linked around Alphonse's shoulders once more.

 

[Ryees]

Why did that sound so perfect? What was it about the nature of a clandestine love affair that made her name feel so fitting? As her nose shuffled against his, Alphonse smiled up at her, mirroring her motion but tightening a hand on her thigh. He was sure she noticed, but Madeline was too busy drawing attention for anyone else to see the way she enticed him. Amoret would feel it, though, perched on his lap as she was.

"Ohmigod she's perfect," Madeline gushed, eyeing Amoret while unconsciously touching her own fingers where their hands had touched. "She has to stay. Can she fire a gun?"

"She thinks they're cheating," Alphonse shot back immediately, bending at the waist to peer up at Amoret with a cheeky, challenging smirk. "She prefers to get a little more personal with her targets—you've seen the scenes."

Marcus huffed a breath through his nose. "Yeah, we all have. Fuckin' gruesome, sometimes, and we're used to seeing grey matter explode against the wall." He raised a skeptical brow at Amoret. "Tellin' me this little sprite is responsible for all of that?"

Alphonse nodded, pulling his hands up Amoret's thighs to rub them fondly up and down her flanks. "I might not have believed it myself, had I not walked in on it with the lawyer."

Jeff raised the teacup that Madeline had dropped in front of him in mock-toast. "Well, if she's handy with a body, she has my seal of approval. She can stay as long as she likes. Maybe she can help us out if things ever get too close-quarters."

Alphonse was smiling, but his enthusiasm was tempered. It was always him or Emmanuel playing the voice of reason, and that seemed to be his directive then. "Hey no one would be happier to have her than me," he said, poking a kiss into Amoret's back between her shoulder blades, "but she hasn't even decided if she's going to stay the week, so relax a bit and we'll play it by ear. For now, we're just making sure she doesn't eat a bullet."

Madeline, halfway through a sip of tea, muttered into her cup, "She's gonna be eatin' something, I bet," precisely on beat, and the room rippled with good-natured laughter that had Alphonse chuckling right along. But his hands, whether on her thigh, her back, her sides, or elsewhere, never left Amoret as they chatted.

Chaudoin never showed her face in the kitchen. Emmanuel stopped in only briefly, introducing himself and giving a friendly word before disappearing back off to the war room. He admitted that he, too, was somewhat caught up in Amoret's presence, and that part of his project at the moment was compiling data on the organizations that had hits out on the pink-haired assassin. He could track them, monitor their expirations, and offer insight on when it would be safe for Amoret to depart back to her life. Madeline offered to bring a cup of tea to the war room, which he happily agreed to, then he was off. A few minutes later, Madeline followed after him, cup in hand, and Marcus mentioned he was going to head outside to go over the truck. Jeff went with him, intent on making a grocery run. With all the household chores taken care of and the Cavalry occupied, Alphonse led Amoret down the hall.

---

If Alphonse's bedroom looked like it was the model room that the home had come with, that was because it was the exact truth. As much as the trailer had become their home, they really spent very little time in it, and so decorating had never become a priority. The hanging sliding-barn-door that opened up the dresser was also the closet door, hiding the space for now. A queen-sized bet jutted out between the windows with a nightstand on one side. The left wall contained a small, black-anodized aluminum desk with a cheap office chair set under it and a laptop perched on top, a legal pad and pen perched in front of its keyboard. The room was slate and white and black, neutral colors mostly tastefully placed to give contrast where it was needed, but the plainness of the room was unmistakable.

The only feature of the room that stood out was the black nylon bag propped up in the corner, an aura of death somehow surrounding its otherwise nondescript material.

Alphonse held the door open for Amoret and let her in, pulling off his runners with with the tip of the opposite foot and neatly placing them next to the door to the room. He slid the chair out, plopping into and leaning backwards to stretch his arms wide behind his head. The feeling of his shoulders and chest releasing a mission's worth of tension earned a satisfied groan, and his hands languidly crossed behind his head as he finally relaxed.

"I think this is the part where I say, 'it's not much but it's home,' right?" he quipped, leaning back into the chair. "It's where we sleep. It works for us. Nice enough, much better than some of the bases we've had, and we'll for sure be sad to see it go, when we gotta dip." He spread one hand to the bed, offering, "Settle in, make yourself comfortable."

 

[Bunny]

A smile curled on her lips and Amoret pulled her attention from her Specter. “They are cheating.” Her eyes fell on Madeline, “But I can in fact fire a gun.” She wasn’t bad at it either. It had taken her time to find the weapon she preferred to kill with and like most serial killers, for like it or not, that was what she was, Amoret had tried a vast variety of things. Poison, guns, asphyxiation, fire.. The list went on and on. She didn’t comment on the reason for her choices, they didn’t know. Perhaps if he asked, she would share.

Her eyes met Marcus’ and she smiled, a sweet, innocent smile, but behind those beautiful eyes her monster peeked out. “Indeed I am. You’d be surprised what your sex is willing to overlook for the chance to get lucky.” Her voice was so sweet, saccharine and throaty. Men willingly followed her into derelict buildings for a chance of getting their dicks wet. Assuming because she was small, delicate, that they could overpower her. They never expected for such a pretty little package to be so beautifully broken.

The way he touched her made her feel butterflies, warm pleasant ones. She liked the almost progressive nature of it. She was after all his. The kiss between her shoulder blades made her make a soft sound in her throat. Like a kitten, Amoret purred for Alphonse. A smile played on her lips at the comment by Madeline. She might have been a virgin, but Amoret understood the joke.

---

Taking in his room she noticed how sparse it was. It didn’t bother her, Amoret had not had a home or a place to call her own in so long. When he took off his shoes she tilted her head and followed suit. Crouching she undid the buckles and then slipped out of the platforms, her height drastically changing before she padded further in on stocking clad feet.

Sitting in the chair she watched him. Alone like this, she almost treated him like prey, though she didn’t bother to hide it. He wasn’t her prey nor was he some foolish man to be scared of the intense way she watched him.

Rather than take the offered bed, she moved towards him, slipping into his lap, straddling his waist, her hands slipping along his chest and behind his neck. Fingers pressed against his tense muscles, working along the tension that lingered. “It is nicer than where I normally sleep.” This was offered softly. Alphonse had seen her warehouse, that was more often than not, her norm.

Feet dangled off the floor, swaying slightly. “You will leave once the convention is over?” She didn’t quite know what it was that had all these powerful men here, but it had made her life fun for a while. Her eyes studied his face. Without Alphonse taking an interest in her, Amoret might have been dead soon. With her urges and need to kill and so many companies watching the stage, so to speak, she would have likely been caught.

Had it not been for him.

She might have been dead.

Lips brushed his, chastely. “Thank you, for deciding to save me.” Not so foolish to think without him she’d be still drawing breath. It would likely be the only proper thank you she’d offer him.

 

[Ryees]

Alphonse tilted his head in an acquiescent nod. "Guess it beats the hell out of a warehouse floor," he said, and started to say more when she climbed atop him. He couldn't hide the surprise at the way she so comfortably climbed atop him, but neither did he shy away from the gesture, his hands immediately and comfortably settling on her hips.

With a nod, he flicked his head backwards towards the wall calendar hung over the desk, tape tabs sticking out from the pages underneath and notes stuck all over the front page.
"Yeeeah, unfortunately," he hummed, disappointment evident in his voice. "This is a really nice little stream of cash, too, but security is already getting bitchy and the execs are getting scared to show their faces. Media's all over it, too—we were able to control the flow of information for a couple days, but this many big-wigs get pasted and word gets out eventually, y'know?" His hands rubbed briskly up and down her sides. "The later days of the convention are when the people we really came here for start to have their meetings. We're gonna play a little closer to the chest until then, let them feel safer, then take out our actual targets. Couple weeks, maybe a little over a month, and we're outta here."

When her lips came down to his, he read the tone and held her for only a moment. The way those pretty pink lips pursed to touch his had him making a concerted effort not to adjust himself under her perch, but the physical response to her being so close and warm was unavoidable and obvious. When he opened his eyes again, there was a sincerity in his argent eyes that had become reserved for her. "You're one of a kind, y'know?" he offered, cupping his hands together behind the small of her back. "Even if I hadn't found out how much I like you, you were worth preserving just as a piece of art, I think." He gave her hips a playful squeeze, grinning. "There aren't many minds like ours out there, that can do this for a living—or as a hobby, for you, I guess."

The grin slipped, and he looked pensive for a moment. "What got you here, anyway?" he asked her, curiosity furrowing his brow. "For us, we're all ex-mil, it was all an easy jump, and HR picked us up. You don't get paid for it, though. What's your story?"