"What're you afraid of?"

"Only you."

"Me? I thought I'd done a good job of baring my heart to you."

"You did. If only your heart wasn't so rotten."

They sipped in silence for a while then. Bone china holding tea and crystal holding vodka rested, equally empty, on the shared table. The rim of one was pristine, as though it had never been touched, while the other was tinged rouge by the aftermath of bitten lips. However, different as they may be, they were just as warm when they sat beside each other on that table.

Much like their owners.

"My rotten heart is nothing new, so I hardly see how that's relevant. Will you do it?"

"I can't."

"Can't or won't?"

"Can't, won't, and don't want to."

"So you're unable, unwilling, and uninterested?"

"In so many words."

Drinks were replenished, and sipping resumed, though it was laced with hostility. If only the drinks had been laced as well: this conversation might have been going better.

"How can I convince you?"

"... I thought you enjoyed puzzling such trivialities for yourself. Why seek assistance now?" The vodka was gulped then, rather than sipped, and overtook the tea. "I'm unworthy of helping your great and wise self with these matters."

"Bullshit." The tea, still scalding, met its counterpart on the table, fuller than the other but no better.

"How vulgar."

"Let the rotten hearted wretch be vulgar for one fucking conversation, would you?"

"I would. Go on, then." Vodka-burning lips lifted to an accommodating (or perhaps condescending) smile.

The tea-tasting mouth opposite could only repress a sneer, and curl into something far more charming than the person they belonged to. "We both stand to gain from this. You need an alliance as much as I do. Maybe more."

"I wonder where you get your information, to think that way? You're misinformed: I benefit more from severance than alliance."

"My information is from me puzzling out the trivialities, as you so eloquently put it. I can see through your bluff as easily as that damn blouse - would you put a jacket on already?"

"Vulgar, and a pervert." There was a begrudged sigh, and the rustling of clothes, and then the coat of one was thrown over the other. "I'm not wearing it: vodka makes me sweat. Puzzle that one for me: you don't want to see me undress but you provide all the reasons for me to do so."

"Drink tea then, you despot."

"If I wanted to consume leaves I would have a salad. When are you going to learn to drink like an adult? What, still can't hold your liquor?"

The vodka was snatched from the table. "I can hold it just fine. See?"

The humour was held with the eyes that met each other then, though the brows of both were playing hard to get and lowered to glowers.

"It would be easier to agree if I had some reassurance."

"Reassurance about what?"

"About you not taking advantage."

"Of you?"

"Of the situation." The vodka-drinker took the time to laugh, and dabbed away wet eyes with the coat in their lap. "As if you have the balls to take advantage of me. You're a rotten bastard, but you are a funny one: I'll give you that!"

Anger simmered, but did not boil over. It cooled, and when it was just pleasantly warm it was swallowed down along with the tea. "I've explained everything to you. My plan works for us both. All details about how well this would work should be understood, but I see you hate me too much to know me."

"Don't be ridiculous. I know you too much to hate you. Of course I'll agree: I was only teasing. If you also knew me you would know that much."

"Oh, darling, I love you too much to know you."