They say it’s blind they say it waits, but every time it seals your fate

[mortemscintilla]

WHO: Korra and Hei

WHAT: Korra gets a front-row seat into Hei's dreams. Specifically his relationship with Amber.

[ Anger burning under the surface of his skin, clouding everything around him, Hei had stormed off after wrenching his photos away from Korra. He hadn't stopped to consider if the photos were loaded with a special brand of City-magic. Hadn't realized that after she'd touched them, memory-fragments had clung to her fingertips like ragweed pollen. Seeping into her pores, germinating day by day. ]

[ And of course he had no way of knowing what she'd dream of, several nights later. Or that the dreams wouldn't be hers. ]

[ Like most of his dreams, it's a vivid one. A forest unfurling like a dark green sea. Autofire and muzzle flash color the night. Tree stalks and bones shatter with hot plashes of fluid. The air is heavy with a shrill sound and scent that is somehow primal, hostile, terrified. It is like being enveloped in blood. ]

[ Everywhere, there are bodies. Acres upon acres of them, piled atop one another like split logs. Armless, legless, headless corpses, fields of little rag dolls pulled apart, liquid, stuffed with streaming redness, flowing out and away. Hei's, Pai's, and Carmine's handiwork. The result of a successful night-raid. From the corner of his eye, Hei glimpses a Contractor, one of Amber's squad, drifting through the blazing camp with the flayed corpse of a girl draped around his shoulders. The girl’s skinless body shimmers, blood-glazed tissue reflecting firelight the way moon rays reflect off a placid lake's surface. The Contractor is whistling, dreamy-eyed. ]

[ Hei isn't sure if that's his Obeisance -- or if the man is insane. He doesn't care. The war is like that: it gets inside you, under your skin and into your bloodstream, plants roots in your heart and mind and soul. You surrender to its cruelty as a matter of survival. ]

[ A starburst of light. Another memory -- one that makes his nerves jump. Pale skin and a curl of parted lips. Green hair tangled across a red uniform. He feels the humidity of the Brazilian forest, hears buzzing mosquitoes, sees gossamer netting. It's nothing compared to the global warming between Amber's thighs, the clamor in his head, his thoughts tissuey, friable, as he arches over her. Wait… hold on, Hei. Scrambling around in her pockets. Taking out a swiss army knife, extending the nail clippers. She giggles, Your fingernails are like knives. He gives her his hand and she trims his nails. Then files them down smooth. Her voice, singy-songy, Don't need a female circumcision. When she finishes the strange manicure, she eases his hand back between her legs. ]

[ Ohhhh. Her soft cry tastes like butterscotch against his hungry mouth. ]

[ Little details pinwheel through Hei's brain. The way her pulse flutters when he curls his fingers around her throat. How her hair feels like a wash of green seafoam as she bends her head, taking him with such gorgeous smoothness into the cool-hot vacuum of her mouth. The taste of her on his tongue, tart and rimey yet somewhow sweet, like biting into a dripping peach. How, each time, he has to fuck her with his eyes closed -- because the way she looks, lying beneath him, flushed and gasping, wisps of that pale hair sweat-plastered to her body, she is hypnotic, and he knows he can lose himself in gazing at her, lose the urgent rhythm of his cock in her slick wet sex. ]

[ Burying his face in the hollow of her neck, inhaling her cordite-and-mint scent, Hei drifts -- in the cradle of his dream-body, yet outside of himself, watching from a great distance of space and time. 

It was always a struggle, he remembers, to control himself with Amber. But she'd sense that; brace her hands on his shoulders and ease the shakes out of him, coaxing him with her voice and body and kisses to take it slow. He only had to listen to her and obey. He'd sometimes 

wonder what she was thinking in those moments. Part of her, maybe the deepest part, was always locked off -- even when they were that close. Maybe it was because she knew things about the future that he'd never be able to grasp. She had purposes -- for him, for Pai, for herself -- that Hei couldn't even imagine. ]

[ He remembers other things too -- less important, yet somehow more precious to him. The way Amber could be so hard to please, a kakuru puzzle in equal parts tantalizing and mystifying -- but when he got it right, it was like cracking the vault to something blissful: her skin filming like melted butter under his lips as if she were running a fever or a marathon, her wordless mewling cry as she came apart, a wavering song that melted into a scream. ]

[ Nights in the jungle, blackness so absolute it becomes a living entity, Hei remembers those stolen moments with her as a respite from everything. Being with Amber made the brutal truths of the war bearable. When she held him, he believed, however briefly, that there were no such things as hatred, or cruelty, or pain. And when she kissed him, he thought he'd never want to kiss anyone else again, ever. ]

[ Except he should've known -- even then (especially then) -- that Amber was mapping out the starchart of a different future for him.  Everything they'd shared -- at a depth and breadth both thrilling and terrifying. But it was never enough. Especially in the wake of war and politics, carnage and tragedy. Two people could never share the same psyche. ]

[ Afterwards, he remembers, Amber would always let out a jittery sigh -- satisfied, yet somehow wistful. That was nice. You're always such a quick study, Hei. A girl appreciates that. ]

[ A girl appreciates that. It was as if she was giving him advice for down the line, when he'd find himself years and miles away from her, in bed with someone else. Knowing Amber, she probably was. ]

Comments

several nights later

[anatural]

[If Korra was going to be honest with herself, she'd have to admit that her little masturbation stunt wasn't just about reclaiming a measure of control over her life and her body. She wasn't just telling him Watch and yearn. A small, fragile part of her was saying Watch me.

Ever since the picture curse, she's been troubled with dreams — of Hei and that woman having sex, Hei and that woman being close, Hei smiling. Korra tries to tell herself that it's just her subconscious making stuff up, but the things they do to each other wouldn't have occurred to her in a million years. Who chokes another person during sex? Who enjoys not being able to breathe? No, despite what she tells herself, Korra knows that the City is giving her an insight into Hei. The person he loves, the person who makes him happy, is the complete opposite of Korra.

And yet there are some qualities about the woman she could also have. Korra's not the type of person to completely remake herself to win — save for a 10 second flirtation with makeup, she never tried to be like Asami to win Mako because she knows she could never have that level of grace, poise, elegance, and beauty. It's just not who she is. This woman, though... Korra may not be able to achieve her poise and mystery, but she can be sexually adventurous. She gave Hei a blowjob in an alley and fucked him in a haunted house, didn't she? (She can feel that woman laughing in her mind, like it's so cute that that's her definition of adventurous.)

She'll show her. In a competitive mode, Korra accepted a dare from her coworkers to try a few drinks, and so she walks out of work not stumbling but definitely uninhibited. She sends Hei a text that just gives him the name of a small park in the Underground (if a handful of trees and some grass constitutes a "park"). She plans on proving just how adventurous and creative she can be.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ The coordinates remind Hei of rendezvous-points in Tokyo, where Huang would debrief them on a new mission. ]

[ He's not sure what to make of it -- which is in itself unnerving. Usually he's good at following Korra's flightier trains of thought. But this completely eludes him. Overworked, tetchy, short on sleep, Hei's over-stimulated mind briefly concocts a ludicrous revenge-fantasy: Korra, having grown sick of his cruelty and indifference, has decided to gang up with a few enemies Hei has made in the Underground -- (and he makes enemies as naturally as a soapmakes suds) -- and together they've all designed an elaborate scheme to avenge themselves on him with an ambush. Ridiculous, yes. Paranoid, definitely. But beyond the realm of possibility...? ]

[ Nothing is impossible. ]

[ However, logic intrudes. Korra is many things. Stubborn, petulant, reckless, naive. Often Hei can't decide if she is lightning just waiting to strike, or the spot where it strikes way too often. But one thing she isn't is vindictive. Whatever her reasons for summoning him to this park, the ulterior motives are unlikely to be anything violent. At best, she wants a knee-trembler up against a tree. At worst, she plans to yell at him for a recent slight or discourtesy. ]

[ At first, Hei is tempted to ignore the message. He's not a trained dog at her back and call. But in the end, the lure is too powerful to resist. It's less concern that Korra might be in trouble, and more about mitigating his own curiosity. Growing up surrounded by false intel and disinformation does that to a guy. ]

[ The park is deserted, a little eerie -- an empty playground and a few gnarled but thickly-boughed trees. When Hei spots Korra, he appears in the manner he always does: as if from thin air. One moment he is nonexistent, merging with the background, appraising and observing his environment. In the next he is standing at her side, brows curled impatiently at the edges like charring paper. ]

[ Without inflection, he says, ]

Something on your mind?

[anatural]

[WOAH okay wow this is why Korra doesn't like getting drunk — she hates having her reflexes compromised. Not that she's ever gotten properly drunk before, but still.]

Why do you always have to sneak up on people like that?! [Though he never successfully snuck up on that green-haired woman; somehow she always she when he was nearby. Which was pretty creepy, in Korra's admittedly biased opinion.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ Of course he'd never gotten the jump on Amber. Even then, UB001 was a legend among Contractors, both a walking horror story and a brilliant Joan of Arc -- the myth who sat at the center of a quivering web of spycraft, who never came out in the open except to unleash disaster, who was always ten steps ahead of both her allies and enemies. ]

[ She may not have instilled in Hei a tendency towards vigilance and recon -- but she'd certainly cultivated it. ]

[ Not that vigilance or recon are necessary here. One glance at Korra, and it's evident she's toasted. It's there in the way her little face maneuvers around its expressions, unexpectedly comical despite their attempts at normalcy, as if they haven't worked their gears in a while and are trying to remember their job. ]

[ Great. Impatience takes root, lending a chilly bite to Hei's voice. ]

So I can kill the ones who waste my time.

[ It's not nearly as facetious as it sounds. ]

[anatural]

[The bite in his voice should frighten her, but with her head still full of those dreams, it just makes her angry. He'd never have talked like that to the green haired woman. Does he honestly have to be in love with someone to be a halfway decent human being to them?]

Well gee, I was going to suggest we have some fun together, but I wouldn't want to waste your time.

[mortemscintilla]

[ The short answer is: Yes. Especially for Hei, who lives his life at such extremes of indifference or intensity. Despite Li's facade of dull, run-of-the-mill normalcy, a guy who works hard at things he isn't a natural at, whose life and ambitions and loves are all ordinary-sized and paltry and not enough, Hei at his core has no patience for half-measures. All his emotions have been distilled -- whetted -- to razor-tipped apogees. He doesn't have room for petty resentments, small-minded hypocrisies, tepid affections. He loves remote, brilliant objects just beyond reach, something pure to devote himself completely to. That's the way it was with Pai. And his sense of revenge is as extreme as his loyalty. That's why he'd warped into such a hollowed-out, toxic monster after he thought Amber had betrayed him. ]

[ He wishes he could tell Korra, that she shouldn't use those rare little presents he gives her -- of himself,of softness -- as a measurement of what he feels for her. He considers those things meaningless. If he holds her to any value -- to a tender esteem -- his actions will telegraph it loud and clear. ]

[ Except he has no idea what's going through her head. At her petulance, his gaze narrows. The air around him crackles as if he's gathering himself for a blistering response. ]

[ But instead he shakes his head -- bewilderment, disgust, ]

How many drinks have you had?

[ Because what else would bring this on, but an alcohol-induced haze? ]

[anatural]

[She doesn't. She knows he feels something for her, but she doesn't think it's affection. After the way he treated her during the picture curse, she'd be an idiot to think he cared about her.

So what are you doing here? If any part of her had been hoping that maybe she could capture a little bit of the warmth in her dreams, his current attitude has killed that.]

You know what? Don't waste your time. [She may be tipsy and emotionally troubled, but she's not pathetic enough to make a pass at someone who is so clearly disgusted by her presence.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ Hei blinks at her, less surprise than weariness. Korra receives only flat silence in response, implying that the comment is really beneath answering; that Hei has had a long day and has run out of energy; that he will allow her to do whatever the fuck she pleases. ]

[ And really, it's better if she leaves. Her presence fills him with a strange sensation -- almost like dread, but also with an extraordinary excitement. All he can compare it to is being back in Heaven's War: knee-deep in marshy grass, and he can smell the enemy, smell their firepower on the breeze, as fear crawls like fire ants at the back of his throat and he thinks, I'm here to change things. I'm here to win. But all the while it's him who's changing, changing deep inside. ]

[ Soldiers deal with this change in different ways. Six years ago? Hei would have lit the pilot light of an LPO-50 flame-thrower, 50,000 BTUs of Contractor-cooking power, and laid down a scar of flame that'd turn a camp full of hostiles into roving, raving, Chinese firecrackers in an eyeblink. An acceptable catharsis. ]

[ But this isn't Heaven's War. And he isn't that soldier anymore. ]

[ He watches Korra prepare stomp off. Pretending fierce dismissal, but her rigid back betrays her. She won't turn around, he knows that. She'll keep going, dragging her steps through a swamp of unhappy self-recrimination. And strangely, it moves through Hei with a sensation like nausea. ]

[ He doesn't say anything. But after a moment, he falls into step with her. Because whatever his reservations, it isn't smart to let her wander through the Underground -- drunk and alone. (He'd ask himself why it's his concern at all. But that's one more thing he's unwilling to examine too closely.) ]

[anatural]

[He's following her. Of course he's following her. Why wouldn't he follow her? He's the freaking EMPEROR of mixed signals. I'm disgusted by your presence; ooo, let me follow you. Asshole.]

It kind of defeats the purpose of me leaving if you're just going to follow me.

[mortemscintilla]

[ Hei gives Korra a sidelong glance. He is walking beside her, not too close, not too far, hands in pockets, his steps as smooth-moving as always. But there is the tiniest awkwardness in the set of his shoulders, the way his gaze shutters. An eyeblink of a stutter. Old habits die never, but he doesn't fire off a cold remark like always. Out of weariness, maybe. Or maybe because of the odd tilting sensation that is happening inside him, as if two feelings are teetering into balance on a scale; the old shell of aloofness and anger on one side, and on the other ... what? Maybe it is nothing; maybe he is just tired of constantly bruising her. ]

[ Fuck. He can't keep hurting her. But he also can't fit her anywhere in his life that is satisfactory or safe The two are mutually exclusive. ]

[ His expression is tightlipped, bordering on exhausted. ]

I'll leave once you've sobered up.

[anatural]

Well then you can go ahead and leave, because I am perfectly fine. [She may be a little drunk and a little exhausted from constantly dreaming about Hei's sex life, but home isn't that far away. Or if home is, the Welcome Center isn't. Penny always has beds there. Point being, she'll be just fine, and it's stupid of him to act like he's concerned when he'd been so pissed off earlier about her inviting him out.]

[mortemscintilla]

Korra --

[ He knows he shouldn't let her attitude get under his skin. But it does, so words rise to his lips without quite taking shape. Apologies? Recriminations? He isn't sure. She's being a pain in the ass, a typical teenaged drama queen. But he doesn't question whether her hurt and anger are honest. The ever-cropping tensions between them, like navigating through a minefield, are his own fault. He really should just cut her loose, but. But. That ever-sentimental word that is equal parts his saving grace and his downfall. I didn't know I wanted this, but -- and I can't do this but I want to try with you -- ]

[ Funny, how things work out. ]

[ Exhaling, he lifts a hand to squeeze his temples, as if with the right pressure, a suitable answer will pop into place. ]

[ Instead, all that comes out is, ]

It's been a long day, all right? I wasn't expecting a sexy assignation in the middle of a park.

[anatural]

I think for most people it would be a pleasant surprise. I'm sorry for revulting you! [Is that a word? She doesn't care. He gets what she means. Why is she always doing this to herself? Why does she always get involved with guys who'd rather be with someone else?

Forever alone, she decides. Just her, Naga, and her fingers in the shower. Who needs boys anyway? Boys are stupid. She hates boys.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ Hei frowns, as if he doesn't know what to make of this. Maybe he is just surprised to hear her use an adjective of three syllables. Maybe he is a heartbeat away from correcting her pronunciation. Or maybe ... Maybe he is taken aback by the idea that Korra would believe he finds her revolting. Nothing is further from the truth. ]

[ A strange sadness suffuses him, mingling with his anger, diluting it. If she knew the truth of what he was -- his blood-soaked profession -- she'd never waste time seeking his attention. She'd run for the fucking hills. And Hei, with all his sharp-toothed awareness of the truth, should know better than to keep stringing her along. She is off-limits to the likes of him. Except ... it is hard to care, because Korra's longing for him is palpable, and it is nearly too much, to be desired that way. To be seen as -- well, not a decent human being, but sentient, and capable of feeling pain, and deserving of warmth. ]

[ Maybe he likes the mirror of himself in her big innocent eyes. The illusion that he can be almost human -- because he's dealt in illusions so long, it's inevitable that he loses himself in those accumulated lies. Or maybe... Maybe he's simply enthralled by her the way a deep-sea creature at the bonecracking depths of black water is enthralled by a glimmer of sunlight. Not realizing that if he breaks the surface, abandons the permafrosted darkness he's accustomed to, he'll melt and die. Nothing from the deep-sea survives in sunshine. ]

[ Forever alone. That's how it fucking should be, because Korra is a pretty fluke of brightness in the dimensionless black he inhabits. Yet he can't turn away from her. ]

[ Quietly, without glancing her way, he says, ]

Nothing you do [ Nothing you could be ] could possibly revolt me.

[ His rancor stems from nothing but the atmosphere in his own head -- lightning-jags and flashfloods he can't control, and which spill out at the worst moments. ]

[anatural]

You've sure got a funny way of showing it. [She wraps her arms around herself, feeling a little cold in the early spring air. Feeling a little lonely, knowing that even cold, brutal, fucked up Hei has known a kind of love she never has. Maybe she and Mako could have had that, if he hadn't found Asami. But he did, and they didn't.

If she's going to have dreams that make her way up horny and bitterly lonely, couldn't they at least be dreams where she's the star? Dreaming about other people's sex lives is just salt on a wound she could ignore if it weren't for the, you know, salt.

She sighs and tightens her arms a little more. Maybe she should call Chekov — he might know something that could help her sleep without dreaming.]

[mortemscintilla]

I know.

[ The words come with a quiet flatness. Like a doctor making a bedside assessment: diagnosing someone as terminally ill, beyond the hope of saving. ]

[ He's silent for a moment, doing a good imitation of a pillar of salt. Nothing moves except his eyes, slewing sideways to regard Korra, to absorb every little visual detail of her with a greedy intensity. Her profile is clean-cut: the soft blue gaze downcast, the soft curves of mouth and chin and cheek outlined by the pale silver moonlight. Yet her expression is so dark. Bittersweet. ]

[ What a strange thing it must be, Hei thinks, to be so pretty even when sad. There is no charm in unhappiness. Yet Korra lends even that a burning allure. It makes Hei envious even as he tries to puzzle out why she's troubled. The intensity of emotions available to Korra, the freedom to feel so purely and absolutely -- he's all but lost that. He'd loved Amber once, it's true. A part of him still does -- and will never stop. But he's not that person anymore. Is too hollowed-out, too atrophied, by everything he's endured. ]

[ Yet somehow he's managed, like a single sprig of green unfurling in a burnt wasteland, to make a connection with this girl. Not a wholesome one. Not right or rational or simple. Yet Korra is as real to him as Pai and Amber had once been, and it strikes him that she means something to him. ]

[ In whatever capacity he is able, she means something. ]

[ There's a beat, in which the silence weighs heavier between them. Finally, in a different tone, not gentle but somehow less hard-edged, he asks, ]

What's wrong?

[ As in, What's really wrong? ]

[anatural]

[It's hard to stay mad at him when he softens. Not that it's much, but honestly, if it were a more extreme gentling, she wouldn't trust it. The fact that it's just a fraction is what gets under her skin.]

Nothing. [Knowing he won't believe that, she adds.] I've just had some trouble sleeping. [No need to get into the details of why.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ I've just had some trouble sleeping. ]

[ There's so much subtext in those words. Any fool can guess there's something more to it, something fucked up and fraught she's not telling him. But Hei doesn't ask. All the signs of her exhaustion are clear enough, and he knows all about restless sleep, about nights riven with terrors. He's had them so often now, in such magnitude, that he no longer considers them aberrations. When the worst ones come, the only cure is either strong drink or hot skin. ]

[ His face, while expressionless, is edged with something like understanding. He knows what it's like, at least, to feel pincered in every direction. Desperate for an exit hatch -- or, denied that, a brief lull of respite. ]

So you called me. Don't you think Nyquil would've worked better?

[ It's dry, but not unkind. His gaze, fixing on her, is clear-eyed, lit with a quiet warmth -- or at least a facsimile of it. ]

[anatural]

I don't know what that is. [And she doesn't know what to feel right now. Should she try initiating again? He no longer seems put off by her presence. And her own indignation is fading. She finds herself walking closer to him, feeling the warmth of his body against her skin.] Besides. I liked my idea.

[There's an alley up ahead that seems tailor-made for a little rendezvous... if he gives even the slightest hint of openness to the idea, she's going to drag him into it and eat him alive.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ It wasn't her presence that put him off -- so much as the inconvenient summons in the middle of the night. He's never enjoyed being at someone's back-and-call like a lapdog. Too many memories of the Syndicate, of being reminded that his downtime was never his, that he was no more than a killing-machine made flesh, an amoral automaton set into action by a higher power. ]

[ But this isn't like that. It's just Korra, wanting a few scraps of his attention. Maybe even his affection. Korra, edging closer now, a bright corona of radiant warmth, her scent reminding him, in a distant reverb of memory, of the orange trees in his grandmother's garden, weeping a spicysweet scent of life and greenery into the thick heat of the evening. Even with her hair scraped into messy ponytails, her eyes shadowed with weariness, her aura clogged by so much tension and doubt, she is exquisite. ]

[ Something vibrates low in Hei's stomach. Sex hadn't been at the forefront of his mind. The day was too tiresome, even for fevery technicolor fantasies spun from boredom, or the relief of a quick wank in the bathroom. But now, a wash of renewed energy allows banked desires to float up to his surface. ]

[ Outwardly, he keeps his stance neutral, body speaking hedgingly, his eyes more frank. ]

You'll like it better if it gets the proper results.

[anatural]

[Is that permission to make her move? Korra's going to take that as permission to make a move. She grabs for his arm, intending to pull him in for a kiss. She's already forgotten about the alley part of the equation.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ She grabs his arm, and Hei realigns his body to meet hers, the ghosts of a lifetime in battlefields lending a duelist's grace to the small movement. But this isn't a duel, or even a dance. Just Korra floating in the close darkness: the supple span of her waist suddenly in Hei's hands, her hot little mouth nudging his, then connecting, fed by a hitched breath low in Hei's throat. ]

[ So many times he's kissed her. Yet it's always a brand-new flare of heat, as if kerosene has been dashed onto a banked fire. The kickstart of hunger is palpable in his every liniment; it would almost be embarrassing, except all he can do is feel it, enjoy it. Its power, its promise, as he gathers Korra closer, presses the length of himself against her lush warmth, one hand splayed across the dip of her spine, the other crawling up to tunnel in her hair, while the kiss thrusts words and breath, both, aside. ]

[anatural]

[It's such a relief to be kissing him. She can push aside doubts and fears and thinking; what he feels is finally, momentarily clear. The heat in his response makes her almost able to forget her dreams.

Except not really. It actually reminds her of those dreams, and the passion with which he'd kiss that green haired lady. The ferocity with which they'd devour each other. Still kissing him, she pushes him back towards the nearest wall. Her hands inch up from his collar to his throat as she distractedly tries to imitate her dreams.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ Hei lets his eyes shutter half-closed as she nudges him back against the wall. The concrete is cold and gritty even through the fabric of his coat. Usually that sort of vulnerability -- walled in, confined -- is unwelcome: his habit of maintaining the upper-hand is an imperative, not an inclination. But the energy singing around Korra isn't menacing. It is effervescent, a sweet intensity radiating everywhere like the glow off a shooting star. ]

[ Humming, he strokes the sleek plane of her back with his left hand, cupping and squeezing the swell of her backside. Twines the fingers of the other hand in her hair, pressing hot gulping kisses into her mouth. So much want backed up inside him, like an enormous bubble, soon to break. ]

[ Then her hand closes on his throat -- and adrenaline inverts from passion to instinct in a heartbeat. It's like a bomb going off in his head, nerves the stinging shrapnel as his trigger-loaded muscles lash out. Instantly he's caught her wrist, reversing their positions to pin her back against the wall. ]

[ When he leans in, his face is darkly-lit, taut with a short-leashed anger. ]

What the hell are you doing?

[ He can count on one hand how many people he lets near his throat that way -- and still have fingers leftover. Korra is nowhere on the list. ]

[anatural]

I'm sorry! [His grip is too tight for her to break out, but she shifts so that she can defend herself in other ways if she has to. Her body feels sluggish, almost unresponsive. Stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid!] I thought you'd like it! [He liked it in her dreams! Or he liked doing it, which she thought would translate into liking receiving it. But she was wrong and she's scared she'll have to fight him.]