Ramon Salazar (
latino_menace) wrote2010-02-25 11:34 pm
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OOM: Bogotá on fight night
He'd never really thought that Fiona would take him up on his casual offer to come to watch him fight. Not that it seemed like she was full of shit or anything...but she is a woman. They say things easily, they're flippant and don't have the stomach for anything rough.
His opinion of women at the moment is, justifiably he thinks, low. Maria can shoulder a lot of the blame for that.
He always fights on a Friday and this week, he's definitely in the mood to cause some pain. He'd almost forgotten about Fi but when he opens the bathroom door and looks out onto the bar, he figures why not? He can even see her from where he's standing and she doesn't look like she's doing anything important.
'Busy tonight?'
He's never been much good at small talk.
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He would exact his father's revenge, no doubt. You can't let a thing like that slide. Is that the same thing?
'When was this?'
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She swallows hard before answering him. "1986."
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It's the only thing to do when shit like that happens. It doesn't matter if they're soldiers or not.
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She doesn't feel the need to elaborate on that.
"Took us nine years."
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See, Fi? He was paying attention when you mentioned Seamus.
'I bet it made it better. Revenge.'
How could it not?
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She's just starting to feel the buzz, so another shot seems in order.
"It didn't bring her back, but yeah -- it felt damn good."
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'I'm sure Raul will feel the same way when it's done.'
Ramon has never felt personal about revenge. Not yet.
'Though I'm sure he already knows that.'
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"It doesn't help in the long run. You still see their face, still think you hear their voice just in the other room."
Something makes her think she should call Michael when she gets back. She hasn't seen him in far too long.
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'I'll take your word for it. Like I said, the day after, everything carries on as normal. Nothing will bring them back.'
He's reminded himself that it isn't done, talking personally like this. There's only so far you can let the defences down.
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"You're not drinking enough."
A tired little smirk curls up the corner of her mouth.
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He smirks and knocks back a shot, then another.
'Or is this part of your plan to seduce me?'
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"'Seduction' implies that the outcome is yet to be determined. Are you saying you're still not sure you want to sleep with me, hmm?"
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Hell yes, he wants to sleep with her. All damn night, over and over.
This may be obvious in the way he's raking his eyes over her right now.
'But despite your promise, I don't think you're the kind of woman I can pin my hopes on.'
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"Maybe," she drawls. "Maybe I'm just trying to get you so drunk I don't have to put out."
The way she looks back at him, he can guess she's teasing about that.
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He smirks again and takes another drink. He'd have to go through a whole bottle or more to be in a bad enough state to not let him get it up. He picks it up now and offers it over to her.
'More?'
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"Just to let you know, I'm not responsible for my actions passed the seventh shot."
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Hell no. Quite the opposite. His grin is akin to a shark as he pours again.
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They're alone in this private room, and she can hear the music coming from outside. She stands, pushing her chair back and throwing down her napkin. She holds out her hand to him, hips already swaying softly.
"Dance with me."
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'You like to move, huh?'
He can get next to that.
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He's lean and strong, and he knows how to move. She makes a step and he anticipates, rocks with her, and her smile gets deeper. "You're good."
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'So are you. But I bet you're better moving in other ways.'
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"It's all the same moves, all the same dance," she murmurs, her hips following his lead, rocking into him. Pushing him back, yielding to his advance, all at a tempo marked in heartbeats and soft breaths.
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He doesn't think so. Dancing is just dancing and - so far in his life, at least - sex is just sex. He knows which of the two he prefers and predictably, it'll be obvious when she pushes against him.
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Her chest brushes against his and then pulls away, trusting him to hold her weight as she arches her back, her head falling back. There's a low moan in the back of her throat as the move presses her hips tight against his.
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His hips are undulating against her now and he's biting at his lower lip, blood rising with every passing second.
'Are we done with dinner yet?'
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