Track Ops: Reflection

Subject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection Wed Sep 11, 2013 1:37 pm

The smell met him before anything. It was sweet and tangy at the same time, the perfect blend. At first, he thought it just to be the foods of the outside market, but a far off sizzling dismissed that idea. Marce managed to find a decent shirt at one of the markets for way cheaper than the American dollar. It was white little a black and blue abstract design down the left hand side. He thought it went well with the dark denims he had on with his black shoes. It was as close to casual as he was going to get without walking around with no shirt on. The shades were going to stay. Cop look or not, the sun was being an asshole.

The sights and sounds of the fair finally caught up to him midway down the long winding street that branched out in several directions. The stores slowly began to disappear, replaced with booths of both men and women preparing freshly made foods and goodies. There were some that he recognized quickly and others that he wouldn't eat even if he was tortured. It was nothing like one of the American fairs back in the States. The rides weren't as extreme, though they still had a giant carousel. Most of it was dancers, musicians playing their instruments, stage plays, and lots of food. There were small kids running around with sticks topped with some form of spiced meat it looked like. Marce had to hop back before a small boy with wild black hair ran smack into his legs. He turned around with the biggest smile on his face, bowing until his nose almost touched the ground.

"Îmi pare rău, domnule!"the kid exclaimed. Marce's expression softened to a small smile and a wave, letting the little child pass to join his friends. The music somehow made his steps a little more hoppity than normal, passing a smile and a wave at everyone who did the same to him. Something was telling him that the Bear Claws weren't going to be here, but the enjoyment was just the same.

Subject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection Thu Sep 19, 2013 10:05 pm

After a mere hour, Ace woke up to the sounds of music drifting in through the open window. It wasn't a rude awakening, and she didn't resent it, but she was a bit surprised that she didn't sleep longer. She noted that Marce hadn't returned yet for a victory lap with his Bear Claw, but then again, she didn't expect him to. She was feeling something odd that she honestly wasn't all that used to despite spending so much time with the moody op.

Guilt.

She had been a bitch and she knew it. Granted, he had been a douchedick, but that didn't make it okay. Besides, he didn't even know what was going on. Two wrongs, Ace. What would her father say? She smirked at the thought and sat up, running her hands through her messy hair. Raging bitch or not, she knew how to play nice. Perhaps making it up to poor Mr. Jove would be a good idea before their big mission tomorrow. If he was irritable in the morning, she might just kick him in the balls and let him sing for his breakfast.

Heh heh..

She slid out of bed and wandered over to the shower, which was definitely not the best nor worst one she had ever experienced. It worked, which was all that mattered. After a nice cleaning, she got out and dried her hair, curled it a little to make sure it didn't lose any body, and let it simply hang. Playing nice didn't mean too much effort. She smirked a little to herself and carefully did her makeup, then decided it was too warm to bother with a fancy dress. Instead, she opted for her bikini top and a short black skirt that barely covered the essentials. Comfy and cute. She couldn't help but laugh when she realized she kind of looked like a stripper. Maybe instead of making peace she could just seduce him. That sounded better..

Humming a little, she rearranged the room a little bit so that there was a table with the bed acting as a bench and a chair on the other side. Insta-dining room. Voila! She pondered, then added a spare sheet as a tablecloth. Now all she had to do was make one long-distance phonecall and get a few little things delivered to her door.

Unf unf:

Subject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection Tue Oct 29, 2013 12:21 am

It was a miracle that Marce managed to extract himself from the crowd the way he did. He wasn't much of a stickler for parties, but that one had to be the best one he had been to in years. It wasn't because of the food and drinks. It was more about the atmosphere, the tranquility he felt dancing among those throngs of kids and women. He felt safer than he had ever been in a long time. Nearly trampling over the toes of a man who had a Mikur too many, Marce weaved his way out of the dissipating crowd, holding on tightly to a pancho like cloth that was given to him by a lady who had more fingers than she did teeth. Marce had taken it gratefully with a bow and his white-toothed grin. He wasn't going to be cold any time soon, but gratitude had to be given someway. The day winded down to a milky night, the moon spilling an oily cream into the black velvet of the sky. Stars twinkled off towards the NorthWest and to what he imagined would be home. His steps lighter than they had been in a few days, Marce started back towards the Hotel and to Ace.

His lips twitched into a frown. Ace. Was she still stuck up and mad about him wanting to be a normal person for once in his life? He didn't doubt it for a second while he made his way down the empty streets. She had enough right to be mad at him as he had assassinating the president. All he wanted was to spend an hour or two not avoiding being shot or chased around by Italian madmen. There was a such thing as a break or a day off as an operative. Marce knew in his gut that it was much more than she was making it out to seem. Ace was hiding something from him, yet again, and Marce had to stand in the dunce hat and shot out random reasons until she finally fessed up. He sniffed, taking the stairs two at a time before he reached the room. Erasing any expression from his face, Marce strode into the room with his head held high only to stop in mid step.

The room actually looked... mildly prepared.

Room service, he concluded, dropping the pancho-thing on the nearest love seat he could fine. A table and desk were situated in a dining room kind of matter, definitely not the way he left the room earlier. Marce shoved his hands in his pockets, wondering if Ace had anything to do with the changes.

Subject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection Tue Jan 21, 2014 3:11 pm

"Did you find your bear claw, Mr. Jove?" Ace asked in an innocent tone, standing behind him. She had a woven basket in her hands, which she set down on the table as soon as she walked around his side. Her body turned and she gave him a smile, tilting her head. Play nice, she reminded herself. Now wasn't the time to start fighting again.

"I know that I was bitchy earlier," she said, turning her attention to the basket. She opened it up and pulled out plates and silverware, which she set up with ease, as well as one tall candle. Napkins were added, as well as sparkling crystal wine flutes. She pulled out two bottles of wine, then a smaller basket which contained a lovely dinner for the pair of them. The only thing that was missing was dessert, and she had something other than chocolate on her mind.

"This is my apology," she added after a minute, turning back to face him once the table was done.

Subject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection Wed Jan 22, 2014 2:15 pm

For an Op he sure did have his guard down a lot more than he used to him. Ace’s voice from behind nearly made him jump right out of his pancho. He faced her and was sure he lost his ability to breathe. There she stood, as real as life itself, holding a wolven basket in her arms. He said nothing at her greeting and even nothing more when she placed it down and turned her body towards him slowly. With nothing on her skin but a grey, frill laced bikini top and a black miniskirt, she smiled innocently up at him. Marce didn’t budge and Ace took that as a hello and went about her business. It was hell not staring at every area of her body, he thanked the God’s above that he couldn’t see her face anymore.

More than the attire, Ace was just stunningly beautiful as ever, and probably just as mischievous to boot. He had no idea why she smiled at him or why she was wearing what she was. It must have been something she did wrong while he left for the fair. Eyes narrowing into slits, they followed her as she maneuvered around a table and started to place items out of the basket. Wine bottles. Food. A tall candle. Plates. The whole nine yards. Dear Gods, what did she do?

"I know that I was bitchy earlier. This is my apology.”

“For what?” he shot back a little too defensively. It took him all of 20 seconds for the quarrel they had earlier to come back to him. True, he was mad, but he got mad around her all the time. She never prepared dinner and wore something like that as an apology for him. The two were very contradictory in themselves. A sexy outfit and a romantic dinner atmosphere. Which one was the apology? The dinner or her? Or both? His head hurt thinking on it so he followed her voice back to reality.

“Oh.” He didn’t want to say anything else. He always messed something up when he talked to mad. Ace was a short fuse and since she doesn’t look like she wanted to smash his head into a wall, he had to tip toe on egg shells with her feelings. So he said nothing more, leaning on one hip and sliding his hands through his pockets.

Subject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection Wed Jan 22, 2014 3:14 pm

Ace set the basket aside and grinned a little to herself as he snapped at her a little bit. Still the same Marce. A moment later he backed down, which she decided was a good thing. That meant he was going to go along with the way she was pulling him. No more fighting for tonight. She had enough arguing and yelling.. For a few hours, at least. Soon enough they would be right back at it, and it would probably feel like home sweet home.

"For being unbearable," she said, emphasizing the last word with a slightly dramatic pout. It was gone a moment later, replaced by a smile as she went over to him and took advantage of his positioning by sliding her arms around his waist as though his own arms in his pockets created guiding loops.

"I don't want to fight," she explained as she gazed up at him. "I want to sit here, with you, and enjoy dinner. I want to attempt to have a normal conversation that has nothing to do with either of our jobs or anything considered a mood killer. I want to see just how a date with Marce Jove would really go, if I were a normal girl lucky enough to be asked out by such a stunningly handsome, jackass of a man," she added sweetly.

"What do you say, Marce?"

Subject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection Wed Jan 22, 2014 4:09 pm

Oh, so that’s what shes doing. The very second she made a mock pouting face at her apology, he knew she had something more going through her mind than just eating. That was Ace alright. Marce drew up his body defensively when she walked towards him and said little to nothing when she took advantage of his poise. He simply lowered his eyes down to her, trying hard to fix his lips out of the plastered scowl he had. Even though she didn’t look like she wanted a fight, he wasn’t just going to bite his tongue at her proposal, as strange of an endeavor as it was.

“You know, I tried to go on a date with you but you said you needed a break away from me. And now I’m wearing this,” he finished, motioning his chin to the pancho on his chest. It momentarily irritated him to look in her eyes. The worst thing about Ace was not being able to tell whether she was lying or telling the truth. It was a headache and a half to discern the two factors, but Marce was too tired to fight with her. So, she had a point. Fighting had to stop for a moment, at least until he had his energy. Still not moving a muscle, he flicked a glance towards her nose and sighed.

“Kay, we’ll do this like normal people. Eat, talk, and not maim one another. You have my word,” he said in his deep voice. Hopefully she kept the same word.

Subject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection Wed Jan 22, 2014 5:26 pm

"You said you needed a break first," Ace retorted immediately, a faint tinge of pain crossing her expression before it vanished as though it had never existed.

"Good. I'm glad you agree," she said with an easy smile. "But first, get rid of that pancho. It makes you look ridiculous and I won't have my dinner guest parading around in that. I'd rather have you naked," she commented flippantly, giving him a grin before finally releasing him and stepping back to give him a moment. Hopefully he would use the time in the most useful manner and get at least partially undressed.

She sat down at one side of the table, humming softly to herself and picking up a bottle of wine. A few twists later and the cork popped out, leaving her to pour them each a glass. Hopefully this was a strong selection, because she felt that they could both use a bottle each to make this go well.

Subject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection Wed Jan 22, 2014 11:04 pm

A smile cracked across his face for the first time upon returning. That would be the only response she needed for her little joke about being naked. Of course, he wasn’t going to do that. Marce could definitely tell the difference between a joke and seriousness. Or so he thought. Regardless, once he was free from her hold, his hands tugged at the ends of the pancho. Yanking it once, it landed on the floor with little less than a sound. Since he didn’t have a shirt to begin with, his chest would have to do for a tux at the moment. Jeans didn’t seem like a horrible thing to be dressed in, so he shrugged. That seemed fair enough for the two of them.

“By the way,” he said suddenly, sliding his legs under the table while sitting on the chair comfortably. “I don’t think you’re unbearable. I put up with your shit because I have nothing better to do,” he lied. Less was always more. For a moment, he allowed himself to look at her, inviting himself to do so without feeling like he was staring. She had inadvertently captured his attention with more than her attire. Her eyes were round and green and in the faint light from the window, he swore he could see rays dancing behind them. The pouring of the wine interrupted his thoughts.

“While I was out, I saw something I thought you might like. It basically screamed ‘Ace’. I was too mad that I didn’t get it for you,” he said simply, sliding his chin into his hands.

“That and it was a gun.”

Subject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection Wed Jan 22, 2014 11:12 pm

"You really think I need yet another gun?" Ace asked in surprise, arching an eyebrow as she set a full glass of wine in front of him. "I'm surprised, Marce. Didn't you complain at one point that I had too many..?"

She didn't respond or react to his other comments. Honestly, it was more hurtful than she cared to admit to think that he only put up with her out of some sort of boredom or lack of other options. She had thought things were different between them, but it seemed like every time they got too close, either he or herself jumped back. If only she could force herself to actually open up to him.. But she wasn't going to leave herself vulnerable like that.

"Was it pretty?"

Subject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection Thu Jan 23, 2014 4:25 am

“Shut up, I wasn’t going to give you the gun,” he remarked with an incredulous lift of his eyebrow. “I just knew it was something you liked since you’d probably stare me down if I got you something petty like a necklace or bracelet or something. I had to go for something you were good at and so far that seems to be killing people.” Her pretty little smile twitched away and it went noticed by Marce who raised a brow in return. From fine to upset in less than a second. She looked more tousled than usual, the way her long curls caped the back of her neck when she bent her head to the side. Without the smile, her cheeks looked hollow and still like the dead. He gave her a look at her question.

“The gun?” He took a sip from the glass of wine. “Yeah. Bedazzled and everything. No, it was a normal Desert Eagle, my favorite kind of hand gun. Had a silver body with a bit of a brass afterpolish towards the end. It was sleek too. Would’ve looked good on you.” If the Bureau could hear him now, he’d be knee deep in shark shit at the bottom of the ocean. Techically, Ace was still on file as a criminal in their book, and there went the lead operative offering to give her a gun out of the kindness of his heart. Marce had to be going insane.

The wine was sweet when he took another sip of it. It was a wimpy kind of alcoholic drink but it soothed him over. He could feel his cheeks prickling with the sensation of calm rushing through his every fiber. When was the last time he allowed himself a night like this.

“So if it wasn’t a gun, would you have been mad if I got a necklace or something? Or is that not your forte?”

Subject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection Thu Jan 23, 2014 9:41 am

"I'd like a bedazzled gun," Ace mused. "I think I'll make myself one. That way, when I shoot people, they can first stare in awe at my glorious weapon of sparkling wonder before they die. It's just the nice thing to do for them, if you think about it."

She was just fucking with him now, but she would honestly probably love a sparkling gun. It was just so obnoxious and amazing sounding to her. She sipped at her wine and set the glass down, picking up her fork to eat as Marce asked her about jewelry. That was.. unexpected. She pondered the question for a moment before looking up at him with a smile that was clearly holding back some sort of a laugh.

"Marce, I might be a felon, but I'm still female. We all like jewelry," she informed him, amused. She was willing to bet even Alex would like something pretty from Bryson. The friction between the pair of them was insane. It kind of reminded her of two other people.. Except that Alex and Bryson didn't make a point of wanting each other dead.

Subject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection Fri Jan 24, 2014 3:39 pm

Avoiding the urge to make a comment about how there was never a nice way to kill someone with a gun, Marce broke into another one of his white-toothed grins with a raise of his glass. He took a sip to that and what she said about being a woman. As if the plane scenario wasn’t reminder enough. At that thought alone, he cast a short, blue-eyed glance at her exposed belly. The look wasn’t discreet and he didn’t care for it to be. Of course she would have been aware that he would stare, wouldn’t she? A beautiful hottie like her wouldn’t just dapper herself in that get-up without thinking that a man would have all eyes on her. Marce Jove was just as man as any man was, regardless of whether he wanted her in handcuffs or not.

“Hm. Handcuffs,” he said offhandedly. His gaze went array and the eating began. The food looked like something out of an old Shakespearean play. There was some form of meat in the shape of Oklahoma that drained juices when he stabbed the fork in it. He instantly thought of sponge cake but with meat instead. Spongemeat. It turned out surprisingly tasty, though it did leave a strange aftertaste in his mouth similar to garlic and peaches. The other side looked as though someone cut down a giant bush in the forest and piled it on their plate. It was sprinkled with something red which he hoped was paprika. It wasn’t. It tasted like grass and honey mustard, so he skipped that. There was bread that was sweet and melted right on your tongue. In intrigue, he combo’d the Spongemeat and bread together while occasionally taking a sip of wine. It was different but not unbearable.

“I was a felon before I was an op,” he spoke in between bites. “This one time, I stole a pack of those 50 cent powdered doughnuts from a convenient store before I went to school. I probably wouldn’t have gotten caught if I didn’t go into the store with a giant book bag. I didn’t even put the doughnuts in the bag. They were shoved in my jacket and were smashed by the time the clerk caught me. You know what she said? ‘That’s what you get for not eating healthy.’ Nice to know I could have stolen some bananas and been in the clear.” Marce placed his lips around the brim of the glass and thought twice about taking another sip. He really shouldn’t. Instead, he winked casually.

“We all have a little bad in us.”

Subject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection Fri Jan 24, 2014 5:43 pm

Ace burst out laughing.

"Oh, yes. How could I not have noticed that naughty streak in you earlier, Marce? It makes sense that you were a hardened criminal in your school years," she teased, shaking her head. "I don't think that nabbing doughnuts and getting caught before you even made it out of the store counts as having bad in you. Sorry."

She looked down at her food, tilting her head. It wasn't as good as she was hoping, but it was edible. That's what she got for trusting the local cuisine. Oh well. She munched a bit and pondered, then looked back up at him.

"I was actually quite an angel when I was in school," she said, giving him a grin. "I got straight A's, never broke curfew, and was only friends with the best of the best. I was in every club they would let me join, and class president. I was actually in the running to be prom queen, too, even though I wasn't old enough to go unless a senior invited me," she explained, rolling her eyes at her own memories. "Too bad I didn't stick around for the crown, hm? I ran away from home at fourteen and never looked back."

Subject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection Fri Jan 24, 2014 7:21 pm

Marce said nothing. He just sat there, stroking his thumb back and forth over his bottom lip to stop the tingling sensations of the wine. He had to give her credit for telling him all of that without cutting off a finger in return. Any other time she would be quick to demand something. An eye for an eye. But then, as he liked to remind himself, Ace was never the same at any given time. She was seldom what he expected her to be and found himself craving every part of who she was. Even the parts that wanted to crack his nuts into halves. Even as she explained how much of her name she lived up to when she was young, Marce was taken on another loop. Marce waited until she was finished, staring first at her than towards the forest green wall behind her.

“I could see you in a dress,” he said in a thick voice, leaning his elbow onto the table before returning his eyes to her. “A black or blue one. Or both. I can’t see you in a crown, though. No hard feelings. I’m sure you would’ve have been a great prom queen,” he joked with a roll of his eyes. He soothed her retaliation over with a small smile from the corner of his mouth. He didn’t mean anything by it. That was just the relationship they had with one another. Always a swing in the dark. His gaze caught hers and instantly his heart flew to his throat. The sight kicked him in the gut with all the power of a bull. He had gotten himself into deep and his stomach turned at the thought.

“I’m sorry.” It was out his mouth before he could take it back so he ventured on. “I said maybe on the plane. I didn’t mean that. I do trust you. That’s just what I’m afraid of.” He looked away from her as soon as he spoke of his fear. Marce Jove was not afraid of a lot of things, but losing Ace as a friend or whatever she became would be a hard pill to swallow, and even that was putting in light terms. He didn’t question the tenderness that ached through his heart at the thought. He just accepted it. It was a come-and-go think. That’s what he made himself believe so there was no reason to hide it. Unconsciously, he reached across the table to take her tiny hand in his.

“I need you to trust me too, Ace,” he said with deep voice as soft as woven silk.

Subject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection Fri Jan 24, 2014 7:32 pm

Ace smiled a bit at his comment of no crown. Honestly, she couldn't picture it either. Too damn girly. It was nearly impossible to remember when she had wanted it. She was silent as he spoke of trust, making no move to pull away when he took her hand and asked for trust in return for his own.

He didn't know what he was asking for. Normal people just threw their trust at random people and hope that it stuck. If it didn't, oh well, they'd mope a bit and get over it and find somebody else. Some people felt jaded and claimed not to trust anybody, but they always had some friend to run to and complain when things were bad. Ace didn't have any of those. She trusted nobody, not even Arch. How could Marce possibly ask her to do such a thing? And yet.. How could she not? The information she was holding back could change everything. He might not even want to touch her anymore, yet he had no idea.

"My father is a very unforgiving man," she said quietly, looking down at their hands on the table. "He expected his wife and daughter to be visions of perfection. His followers could have no doubt that his household was the prime example of what the flock should be striving for. My mother had no power to think for herself, making her a beautiful trophy that stayed home and cooked, cleaning his palace so that he could come home and ask her how many times she had prayed that day. Less than ten was completely unacceptable," she explained. "I would have rather done that, though. School was a chore. I had to make friends and invite them over, to let him meet them and try and talk them into joining us. Getting their parents to join us. He called me his little shepherd girl."

Subject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection Sun Jan 26, 2014 5:13 pm

He didn’t bat an eye. At that moment, it was difficult for him to fathom what she was actually doing. She was letting him in. It hadn’t been done at all and now she was spilling about her childhood. The story she told wasn’t a pretty one and Marce was left strapped to the chair with the light beaming on his face when she was finished. He was in the hot seat. It didn’t help that Ace held little to no expression on her face when she stopped speaking. There was no fake smile or casual shrug of her shoulders. There was nothing there that he could go on, yet he had to step up and say or do something. A part of him wanted to pour himself another glass. That would certainly make things go a lot smoother in his head. The caring part in him didn’t do so, and not for the first time that evening, Marce hated the way he worked.

Marce held his breath fast in his lungs. Do or die, Jove. He chuckled inwardly at his own train of thought. As if he had to mentally remind himself that if he didn’t act, he would die. Death was starting to look a lot better than Ace closing herself off from him. She was never going to let him that close again if he screwed up. A knot formed in his thoat. That’s all he knew how to be. A screw up with loose ends or no ends at all. Now he was on the end of his rope with her and he wasn’t even in the United States.

“Sounds like an ass,” he said bluntly. There was no reason for him to comment on her father or how terrible of a husband and human being he was to treat the family like she described. He didn’t know a lick about being shelter and even less about religion. The last thing Ace would want him to do was be sappy and fake about it, commenting on stuff he knew nothing about. He did know what an asshole was, though. So he stuck with that.

Subject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection Sun Jan 26, 2014 5:25 pm

Ace laughed.

"Yes, he is," she agreed as she topped off her wine glass with a smile, absently wondering if that made two or three. "I told him that before I left, too. My leaving is why he started that whole child discipline movement. I'm sure you heard about it. He published a few books on how children these days are not being raised properly, and about how paddling and whipping should be more commonplace for those that can't behave. It caused quite a stir at the time."

This was strange. She shared a little, but now she shared more. Why? Ace didn't really understand why she felt the compulsion to suddenly turn this dinner into story time. Sure, she had to let him in a little to keep from ruining the current mission, but.. This was different. She longed to be open with him, worse than she had even originally thought.

"Actually, when the Merenzos started all of this, I thought it was my parents."

Subject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection Tue Jan 28, 2014 2:28 am

He vaguely remember something about the child movement her lovely father did some years ago. It was one of those things the news shed a stray strand of light on before letting it trickle off into the darkness. The again, Marce did that with every news sweep. Eventually all of the stories came into light in the Bureau before anything else, excluding the White House. News on the news was old news. Regardless, he lifted a disapproving brow. Todd Linsington’s story was not a pleasant one, but he was irked to know that he chose not to pay much attention to it. If only he had known Ace then, he would have been attentive as all knew what. His jaw tightened. Ace didn’t look strong telling it so he would have to compensate.

“He was that bad, huh. When I first found out about the Merenzos, I didn’t think they would as blood-lusting as they were, and no one knows why. Your fathe—Mr. Linsington made it his mission to get back at you for what you did which is stupid.” He took this time to give her hand a general squeeze. It was all he could do.

“You didn’t do anything wrong in leaving, Ace. I know you probably don’t think that what the Merenzos are doing is your fault. It’s not. It has nothing to do with you. Linsington is in the past. It will always be in the past.” Marce paused, realizing the meaning behind his words. Was Ace no longer going to be a Linsington or was she no longer the woman she was when she left? Her life had changed and he was sudeenly unsure of what direction it turned. Ace wasn’t the woman she was then and she never will be. The question remained was did she change for the better or for the worst.

Marce’s ears popped suddenly while he carelessly refilled his glass with the sweet, red wine. It was there for a reason. Might as well make the most of it or let it make the most of him.

“You’re okay now.”

Subject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection Tue Jan 28, 2014 2:37 am

It was now or never. Ace looked down at her glass, then quickly tipped it back like a gigantic shot. Exhaling slowly as she set the empty glass down, she picked up the second bottle of wine and carefully opened it since they had somehow already gone through the first. She set it down once it was open, her eyes raising to gaze at Marce.

"That girl that I told you about, the one whose parents were upset with me for getting a tattoo with her? I lived with her on the street. We were both runaways, which is why we were so close. She taught me how to sell drugs without getting caught, and how pleasing a man is an easy way to get a warm place to crash at night," she explained, half shrugging before looking back down at her plate and nudging it off to the side. Her appetite was gone.

"Friends started disappearing. It wasn't the usual thing. Something was happening. I started poking around, convinced that my parents were messing with me to try to spook me into going home. At the time, I believed they would stoop to kidnapping and terrorizing. I didn't realize it was the Merenzos - I had never even heard of them."

She refilled her glass again, just to give her hands something to do. Liquid courage. Could she really..? Yes. She had to.

"They caught me, Marce.."

Subject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection Wed Jan 29, 2014 6:12 pm

“She taught me how to sell drugs without getting caught, and how pleasing a man is an easy way to get a warm place to crash at night.” Marce locked his jaw quickly. The statement was a complete brick to the face, yet he took it with little to no expression. He remained stone-faced, his face daunting while Ace continued her story. Part of him cursed himself for ever wanting to hear that portion of her life. If they were really going for the dating type atmosphere, then the present conversation was definitely a bark up the wrong tree. Ace wasn’t being forced to say anything either. Marce told her to trust him and then she spilled her inner most thoughts and insecurities, as far as he knew. However, hearing about how she had to make it through a troubling part of her life like that… He took the bottle from her and refilled his own glass, making a silent note to find the men who she had done and pound them into dust.

“Friends don’t disappear like that,” he said, agreeing with her on the unusual aspect. “Especially not with someone in particular. If it were more than one friend, I can understand why you thought it was your dad. Merenzos are relentless.” Ace said nothing in response and that worried him. Did he say too much or go too far? Unease made him take a heavier gulp. He watched her hand shakily grab the bottle and pour another glass. She had way too much, more than he had. Making a move to comment on her alcohol intake, Marce opened his mouth just in time to see Ace’s jade eyes shoot right through him.

"They caught me, Marce..."

“…What?” There was no reason for her to repeat it. Her statement stayed on echo in his head, her voice amplified by ten as it pounded through his eardrum. Eyes once expressionless now zipped across her face like she had just slammed it on the ground. She was joking. It was the wine talking. He heard her wrong. Even as he continued to deny the truth, Marce could tell just by the way she looked at him that his fear was recognized. Ace wasn’t safe. She was alone, had no one to protect or look out for her, and was now fighting against the very men who took her. Gods knew what they did to her. Marce stood up from his chair, suddenly unaware of what to do. A hand was shoved through his hair to the nape of his neck. Pacing seemed like a good idea, but the wine warned him not to make any sudden movements. Swearing under his breath, he looked directly at the woman in front of him, unsure of what to say but not wanting to leave her in silence.

“No.”

Subject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection Wed Jan 29, 2014 7:22 pm

"Yes."

Ace was silent for several seconds, contemplating the glass in front of her. She couldn't look up at him, not now. It was true that she was approaching drunk, but she was still in her right mind, and she was not stupid enough to not know what she was saying.

She was amazed by her own actions, stunned that she was opening up to him so much. It was like a broken dam, and now she just had to ride the waves and hope that she didn't flood Marce too much and make him run the other way for dry land. So far, so good. He seemed to be staying in place, though his tone was odd. She still didn't dare look up to check on him, though.

"It wasn't so bad, at first. I was high on things I had only dreamed of before. They kept us all flying like kites at first, to keep us happy while they locked us up and starved us for a while. Then, things got nasty. We sobered up, and started getting sold off," she explained, rubbing her left wrist absently as she spoke.

Subject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection Wed Jan 29, 2014 10:18 pm

Shut up.

Oh, how he wanted to say those words aloud. Ace started off slow, letting him know the terror he endured. But instead of stopping which she normally did when she let on too much, she just kept digging deeper and deeper, like she was the undertaker of his own tomb. Marce winced behind every sentence she said, hating himself for not being able to do a damn thing about it. The worst part was knowing that it was in the past and he could do nothing. He could only stand and listen to her recount those moments. Recollect on all the shit she went through with nothing but a quarter glass of wine. All of a sudden, Marce became furious at the glass.

“Put it down,” he ordered, rounding the table until he was directly in front of her. She hadn’t cast him so much as a fleeting glance his way. Suddenly angry, he bent himself down to a squat, putting him at eye level with her.

“Look at me, dammit.” His voice was low and dangerously soft. “It’s not going to happen again. You’ve changed and there’s no way in hell you’d ever let yourself go through that. You won’t even stay in a house by yourself. And believe me. I won’t let you out of my sight. I’m not babying you. I’m just telling you that those fucks won’t get between 30 feet when I’m around. You hear me?” Just in case she didn’t and for other reasons unknown, Marce slid his hand across the back of her neck. His blue eyes bore into her seriously.

“Never again, Ace. Got it?”

Subject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection Wed Jan 29, 2014 10:32 pm

Ace obeyed without really thinking about it, setting her glass down on the table without looking up at him. She didn't give much thought to his demand, musing about what she had said. There was no real point in stopping now, so she opened her mouth to continue on the story until she suddenly had a Marce in her field of vision. Blinking, she stared at him and listened in silence as he swore that she wasn't going to go through it again.

"Marce, you are babying me," she said, though her voice was soft and not the harsh tone she usually took while fighting him. "Won't let me out of your sight? How many ops have you promised that to? None, I would imagine. You're going to have to let me go if you want us to succeed tomorrow," she pointed out.

She shifted, both of her hands coming up to cup his cheeks. Warm. Her fingers slowly spread, taking in the feel of the stubble along his jaw that was just long enough to feel but not be a bother. She glanced at his lips, tempted to come closer, but at this point she knew rejection was likely.

"I didn't tell you this to make you worry or feel bad for me. I just wanted.. I don't know. I just want you."

Subject: Re: Track Ops: Reflection Thu Jan 30, 2014 2:04 am

“I don’t need your permission to worry,” he breathed, closing off the distance that she was too afraid to do herself. He covered her lips with his fully, kissing her as if she were the very thing keeping him alive. In retrospect, it was true. She saved his life as many times as he did hers, maybe more even. But Marce couldn’t save her in the past. He couldn’t save her from the sex, the drugs, from the capture. Pain fueled his actions, a large part of him yearning to kiss her all the way back to the past, where they could have met sooner and he could have at least been there. No matter how low he put himself, her lips were still soft and perfect beneath his. She was still his; not just for the moment. For as long as she needed him for.

The wine played little tricks on him, his tongue parting her lips quicker than he intended to. In all actuality, he wanted nothing more than to take her. To pin her wherever he could and show her that he was true to his word. She can call it babying. Marce called it protection. Being her shield; a rock in a storm. Desperation overpowered him once he held lifted her from her seat, pulling her against his chest without question. The lack of pancho was to thank for her few inches of bare skin to be against his chest. Hot, steady hands held both sides of her arms relentlessly. In a fuzzy reverie, he unlocked their tongues only to press the top of his forehead onto hers. Distance had no place with them.

“I’m not letting you go,” he said gingerly, his voice brushing across her lips in the enclosed distance between them. She didn’t have to believe him. Unable to stand still without the desire to fall over, he swept her off of her feet in one fell swoop, clutching her to his chest like a married couple. The bed seemed miles away so he kissed her in the meantime, walking blindly and hoping for the best.