"Give the lady what she wants!" I cry out, laughing happily, sitting between my closest friend and The New Guy, as we argue about whether or not to give the Korean bartender the Copenhagen she has requested. Lifting the Gin Rickey that my personal devil has made for me, my eyes are dancing at the company, when he asks me.

"What does the lady want?" A note of seriousness, among the proceedings. "The lady isn't sure." I answer, honestly. There's too much going on, too many rapidly changing things. Too much for me to keep track of, how we are one day, then another. What do I want? I want to wait for his nipples to heal, and then I want to take them in my mouth. And I want us to be friends, out on a balcony, talking into the night. No avoidance, no embarrassment, no shame. I don't know that I can have both, and so I don't state it. To deny either one is to deny a part of me, and I don't believe in dishonesty with him.

Later, he presses another drink on me. This one has Bacardi 151, my nemesis, which I pressed on him the last time he got angry at me. "It's only fair." he argues, with a sparkle in his eyes. "We'll be even. Unless you want to reneg on your deal.." I shake my head, but I'm smiling all the same. "If you try to destroy the only other person besides yourself with a sense of justice, do you really win?" We go into a long tangent about Highlander, and how only one of us can survive, before we decide that in the interests of loneliness, we can share our power. I wind up drinking the drink, which turns out to be much less awful than it could have been.

"For what was inside, you made this all right." I tell him, and he purses his lips just a touch and winks, the corners of his eye crinkling. "Drink up, sweetheart." he tells me, and I know that he's drunk. I know we're both a little drunk, but I'm not entirely sure I care. "Now we're even." I tell him, triumphantly, after finishing the monstrosity known as the Shut The Fuck Up. He shakes his head, and adds, "Only in drinks." I raise an eyebrow, curious as to what we're not even in. The man glances back at our seemingly superfluous companion, and I nod. "Later." I tell him, taking the nonverbal communication as normal, and he nods in return. Business as usual at the Circle S.

Much later, we are sprawled on his bed again. I take care to lie at the opposite end from his head, as I ask him. "What aren't we even in?" Turning, and moving so that he lies besides me, his eyes are full of mischief again as he answers, "That was just a ruse to lure you here."

Still later, I ask, "Would you like me to disappear?" He shakes his head, offers covers, and pats the spot next to him. "Stay a while." he tells me drowsily, and sliding in next to his warmth, I don't mind if I do.

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