milliways_bar | (no subject)

Entry tags:

mal,
sands

(no subject)

It’s been a while since Sands was around. By the looks of things, he doesn’t much want to be around anyhow.

He’s found himself a relatively secluded booth- having sat first at the bar, at a table, and paced back and forth for a few agitated minutes- and though his eyes are closed he’s very much awake.

Alert, even. With one hand in his pocket.

[ooc: Mun is knackered and off to bed. Any tags will be replied to in the morning.]

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Mal wanders over, and without hesitation, perches on the table.

Voice a low purr, "Sands."

He doesn’t open his eyes, but his free hand tightens its grip on the table.

Smiling faintly, “What?”

She leans forward, and kisses him. Somewhat abruptly, and there's no denying the fangs, but that doesn't matter.

(to her, anyway)

Sits back and smiles to herself, still watching him.

With a snarl, Sands jerks his head back.

“What,” he repeats tightly, “do you want?”

"Can't you guess?"

Allows a small pout.

A pause as he looks at her, head cocked.

“Humour me.”

Grip on the table loosening and fingers beginning to drum.

"Want to fuck?"

Grins.

“No.”

He lights up a cigarette one-handed and takes a deep drag.

“I’m busy.”

"With what?"

Eyes him, head on one side.

“That’s classified information,” he replies blandly.

Eyes on the rafters, watching his smoke drift up to meet them.

“Until the government sees fit to release it.”

Laughs, shortly.

"Now, isn't that a pity?"

Steals his cigarette and takes a drag.

He doesn’t even bother looking away.

Just pulls out a new one and lights it up.

"You're no fun."

Sulks.

Mildly,

“You’ll live.”

"I'm not alive, love."

Watches him.

"And where's your pretty gun?"

A pause.

Sands smiles, thin and humourless.

“In my pretty pocket.”

"I do like it, you know."

Stretches lazily, "Such a help."

The smile flickers, momentarily, as he glances across at her.

“Well, that’s just... swell.”

"Not what you were expecting?"

Smiles.

“I wasn’t expecting anything.”

He looks away again, eyes closing as he takes a long drag on his cigarette.

"Mmmm."

Eyes him, "Want to be immortal?"

The hand bringing his cigarette back up to his lips pauses.

Blandly, “Are you offering?”

"I am."

Licks the points of her fangs.

“I,” he pauses.

“I think I’ll pass, thanks.”

"Such a pity, love."

And her eyes are amused, because she wants Sands.

And she gets what she wants.

“Yeah. Right.”

His fingers drum a nervous tune on the tabletop.

She laughs.

Licks her lips, and smiles.

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