𝕓𝕝𝕒𝕔𝕜 𝕔𝕒𝕥 | 𝟲 𝗨𝗡𝗗𝗘𝗥𝗚𝗥𝗢𝗨𝗡𝗗

13 | Cat In A Box

This was different, Blake decided, but not in a bad way. For the first time, they had both known each other's true identities. Sure, it had been passionate before, but now she really thought about it she realised they had both been rushed by their own personal missions: the mission against each other. Now they were on the same side, they could afford to take it slow.

It had certainly been different to wake up next to him and, for the first time. Initially disorientated when she woke, she was glad her half-asleep confusion hadn't woken him, too, because it gave her the opportunity to admire him.

His left arm was cushioning the back of her neck, his hand resting loosely on her chest. His other forearm was thrown over his eyes against the shaft of sunlight that illuminated his face. At some point in the night their legs had gotten entangled, though that may have happened before they fell asleep. Curled into his side, her arm over his chest, she allowed herself to feel a little vulnerable, a little feminine, just for a little while.

"G'mornin'," Four said groggily, surprising her. He lifted his arm from his face and squinted down at her. "What time is it?"

"I don't know. Does it really matter?"

He pursed his lips and rested his head back. "Not really."

Her hand found its way into his hair, and he practically purred with content as she began to massage his scalp.

"Feels good," he muttered, closing his eyes again.

"Come on, dopey," Blake said fondly, patting his chest. Her hand landed on his pec and she marvelled, not for the first time, at his toned muscles. "Let's go get breakfast."

He tugged her back down again. "Not yet."

"What?" she said teasingly. "Have you got something else in mind?"

His fingers found the inside of her thigh and she instinctively relaxed into his touch. He propped himself up on one elbow and smirked down at her. "Maybe."

"Alright," she agreed readily, laying her head back on the pillows. "Breakfast can wait. It can definitely wait."

***

"Hey Blake!" Three called from the kitchen as she walked past the door. "You like spicy, right?"

She poked her head into the room. "Yeah, why?"

Two smiled, and Blake automatically put herself on her guard.

"Come and try this," Two said, pointing at the pot on the stove.

Blake padded over. "What is it?"

"Try it," Two insisted, while Three tried to hold back his laughter out of sight of Blake's hesitance.

She took the proffered spoon from Two, which was laden with some kind of orange sauce. It smelt very spicy.

Blake took a little sip from the tip. Immediately her eyes widened, then she screwed up her face in disgust as she swallowed quickly. "God, what did you put in it?" she demanded, eyes watering. Three handed her a glass of water and she chugged it while both Two and Three laughed at her discomfort.

"Too much chilli," Two admitted through her amusement. "It was my fault."

"Think I can get One with it?" Three asked.

"He'll smell the chilli and run a mile," Blake said, shaking her head.

"True." Three scratched his chin as he looked at the pot of orange liquid with beans and chicken floating in it. "Maybe I could disguise it...?"

Blake stuck out her tongue and dragged it back into her mouth against her top teeth, trying to scrape the chilli off of her taste buds. "Good luck with that. You'd have to use something even stronger to overpower it."

"Just start again," Two said, leaning against the counter.

Blake agreed, and left the two of them to it as Three made Two promise not to 'help' with seasoning again. She went to the living area to collect the jacket she had left there earlier, then wandered back to her own room to curl up with her book. It had been five days since she had made up with Four, and she'd been glutting herself with his presence. It felt odd to be without him – One had sent him and Five to buy supplies. He hadn't mentioned what of, and Blake didn't push him for information. Some information they just didn't trust her enough with, yet.

She wasn't sure how long it had been – certainly long enough for her legs to cramp a little – before there was a knock at her door. She glanced up as Four nudged open the door with a plate balanced on one hand.

"Hi," she greeted, lowering her book from her face.

He approached her and sat down on the edge of the bed. She pulled her knees to her chest as he offered her the plate – with two chocolate-chip cookies.

She took one, and he reclaimed the plate to eat the other one. "How are you?"

"Good." She took another bite and her eyebrows twitched downwards as she awkwardly tried to slot away her bookmark one-handedly. He watched her with thinly veiled amusement until he finally took the book from her and placed it on her nightstand, then turned back to her with a raised eyebrow.

"You look fuckin' depressed to me."

She gave him a droll look as she swallowed. "I'm fine, Four."

"Really?" His eyes flickered over her face as she ate as an excuse not to talk. "C'mon, you haven't left this place all week. Did you even go out for the two weeks before I got here?"

Blake's eyes widened at what he was implying. "You know I can't-"

"Seeing you depressed makes me feel depressed," he interrupted, waving a hand expressively. He bounced to his feet and offered her his hand. "Let's go blow off steam."

She stared at his proffered hand, then looked up at him. She worried her lip between her teeth, then shook her head. "One told me to keep a low profile."

"So? We'll be on the rooftops, no-one will see us," he reasoned. "One won't even notice we're gone – that wanker spends too much time in his bloody office."

It had the intended affect – she laughed, and he grinned too.

"Okay, fine." She took his hand and let him pull her to her feet. "Just an hour."