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if you weren't so dramatic, i could get you off

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The driver does not look up as the two women open the doors and slide into the backseat of his car. He’s dressed in the traditional uniform of a high end chauffeur, but Eve knows, though Villanelle doesn’t, that this man is highly trained in three different types of martial arts,that there’s a stainless steel CZ 75 B tucked inside the flap of his jacket. When she’d met him earlier that day, Hugo assured her that he was some of the best muscle MI6 had to offer, and Eve had felt safe with the idea of him accompanying her and Villanelle on the approximately three hour trip to the Forest of Dean. But after seeing Villanelle and remembering how quickly the girl can whip out a knife, she’s not so sure.

Eve sits down and glances at Villanelle to find her staring right back. Eve gulps. The backseat is small, too small. She should have taken the passenger seat, but it’s too late now. And then her back would be towards Villanelle, and maybe that’s not so ideal, either.

Villanelle looks out the window as the car pulls away from the curb. Eve tries to distract herself with the quiet music coming out of the radio. She knows the driver is trying to make Villanelle feel at ease, so she keeps her guard down. Eve wishes it would do something to quell the anxiety that has been settling in the pit of her stomach since she left work.

“I am still mad at you,” Villanelle says after several minutes of silence.

“I know,” Eve says quietly.

“That was a remarkably stupid thing to do.”

Eve laughs, though it comes out sounding harsh and humorless. “Which part?” she asks.

“All of it,” Villanelle says. “Putting out a hit on yourself. Waiting for me alone at your home. Where is your husband, anyway?”

“Oxford,” Eve mutters. She isn’t sure why she tells the truth. But Villanelle has her now. She has no reason to go after Niko. “He had, uh, a trip for work.”

“Sure he did,” says Villanelle. “Listen baby, if you wanted to see me, you should have asked.”

Eve looks up at Villanelle and sees a hint of a smile on her parted lips. She knows Villanelle is teasing her, and she feels her cheeks getting hot and prays Villanelle can’t see that her face is flushed. Eve expected to be teased, but not like this. Not when they are sitting a foot apart behind an armed MI6 agent. Eve wishes he would turn his music up a little higher.

“I needed your help,” Eve says, struggling to regain control of the situation. “We need your help.”

“Ah yes, with your little assassin. But you have caught her, no?” Villanelle leans back in her seat with a satisfied smirk. “And so what could you possibly need from me?”

“She’s not talking.”

“Hm,” Villanelle says. She seems to think for a moment. “Is it possible that you are not listening?”

“What do you mean?”

“Everyone will talk eventually,” Villanelle says cryptically, “when it makes sense for them to do it.”

“And you think...you can make her talk?”

Villanelle shrugs. “Probably.”

There is another long silence as Villanelle stares out the window and Eve tries to think of something to say. She’s spent the better part of a year longing for even five minutes with Villanelle, longing to understand just a little bit of the inner workings of her brain, but suddenly with the prospect of three interrupted hours ahead of them she can’t even think of where to begin. “I heard you stopped working for the Twelve,” she says finally.

Villanelle doesn’t look away from the window. “They were holding me back,” she says. “Not enough opportunities for professional development.”

“We can help you,” Eve says quietly. “If there’s a problem with the Twelve...we can keep you safe. Konstantin too.” She shouldn’t promise it. She knows she shouldn’t be promising it without talking to Carolyn first. But something in Villanelle’s voice makes her feel the need to say it.

“I do not need protection,” Villanelle says shortly. “And besides, I like freelance. I get to express my creativity more.” She looks over at Eve. “Did you see what I left for you in Amsterdam?”

“I saw the pictures.”

“Shame,” says Villanelle. “I was hoping you would come see it in person. You really cannot appreciate art until you’ve seen it in person, don’t you agree?”

Eve chews nervously on her lower lip. “Yes,” she says. “I agree.”

“Next time, you will come see it in person,” Villanelles says matter-of-factly. “I think I will soon enter my impressionist phase.”

“You’re bored,” Eve blurts out. “I know you are. You must be.”

“Hm?” Villanelle raises an eyebrow. “On the contrary, I am actually quite busy.”

“And yet here you are,” Eve says, echoing her words from earlier that evening, and she can tell Villanelle recognizes them too by the way the side of lips quirks upward momentarily.

“Yes,” she says. “Here I am. I suppose I could not resist meeting the woman who has been taking up so much of your time lately.”

There’s the smallest hint of jealousy in her voice and Eve can’t help but poke at it. “Yes, well, she’s a very interesting person.”

“How so?”

“She’s quiet. Invisible. People forget her face as soon as they’ve seen her. She kills carefully and humanely and doesn’t leave a mess.” Eve studies Villanelle’s face as she speaks. “She doesn’t show off.”

“Ah,” Villanelle says, smiling. “So what I am getting from this is that you are bored, too.”

Eve opens her mouth and then closes it again, speechless. She supposes it would be pointless to deny it, anyway. Eve can see in Villanelle’s face that she knows she’s right.

“Do you miss chasing me, Eve?” Villanelle asks.

“Do you miss being chased?”

“A little,” Villanelle admits, surprising Eve. “You found me. You weren’t supposed to find me.” She pauses. “I was impressed, though.”

“Why did you leave?” Eve asks suddenly. “When I...you know… I was going to help you, why did you leave?”

Villanelle laughs. “Oh silly Eve, how were you going to help me? How many stab wounds have you treated in your life?” As she says this, Eve glances nervously at the driver, but in the reflection she sees that his face remains expressionless. Hopefully he is too professional to tattle on her to Carolyn. “Do you have needle and some string hidden somewhere in there?” Villanelle continues, and Eve doesn’t miss the way Villanelle’s eyes trail up and down her body as she says it.

Eve’s throat feels dry. She’s hardly ever talked about this day. She’s spent enough time thinking about it and dreaming about it but talking about it out loud is shockingly difficult. “I could have taken you to the hospital,” Eve says quietly.

“With my blood on your hands?” Villanelle asks. “I took myself to the hospital. Much cleaner that way. I told them I had been stabbed my a man. You would not have been able to keep your mouth shut.”

“So you were protecting me.” It’s not a question, Eve realizes. She’s spent the last several months wondering how angry Villanelle must be at her for stabbing her. She never thought that, even as she was almost dying, she may have actually been trying to help Eve.

“You being questioned by the French police would only attract attention. I did not want to be compromised. I was protecting myself.”

“By protecting me,” Eve can’t help but mutter. Then she remembers something else and looks up at Villanelle. “Why did you kill that kid?”

“He wished to die.”

“And the man in Basildon?”

Villanelle grimaces. “He deserved to die.”

“So those weren’t contract kills? They weren’t ordered by the Twelve?”

“You are very nosy tonight, Eve,” Villanelle says. “I thought you are working on a new case now.”

“I’m just... curious I guess,” says Eve.

“Am I still being investigated? Perhaps I should jump out of the car?” Villanelle reaches for the door handle.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Eve says. “I promised you everything, didn’t I? If you help us, MI6 will drop the investigation into you. If you promise not to go back to the Twelve.”

“That is not everything I want, Eve. Not even close.”

Something in Villanelle’s voice makes Eve’s heart drop into her stomach. The implication is obvious, it was obvious earlier, when Villanelle was pressing her against the sink with a knife against her shirt. The things Eve knows Villanelle wants to do to her have been enough to keep her up at night, and she is about to ask Villanelle to tell her, in no uncertain terms, what it is she wants, to let herself get lost in this game. But then the driver turns on his blinker and Eve remembers herself and looks away instead. When she dares to look back Villanelle is looking out the window yet again.

“I like London,” Villanelle says unexpectedly after a while.

“Hm?” says Eve. She realizes she was nearly falling asleep. It’s late, and actually, sleep would be a good idea. But she wants to keep talking to Villanelle. “What do you like about it?”

“Have you been here long?” Villanelle asks, ignoring the question.

“Uh, yeah, I have,” Eve said. “I was born here, actually.”

“But you have an American accent.”

“I grew up in Connecticut. In the United States.”

“I have not been there.”

“You should go,” Eve says. “It’s, um...it’s nice.” This is weird, she thinks, making small talk with Villanelle. It feels unnatural.

“I have been working on perfecting your accent,” Villanelle says. “It is one I have not mastered yet.” She looks at Eve. “I have a recording of you speaking that I listen to from time to time.”

Eve’s eyes widen in alarm and Villanelle laughs. “Relax,” she says. “You are not saying anything incriminating. Just speaking to your husband and some friends. I can’t even remember. It is very boring.”

“Berlin,” Eve says. It comes to her suddenly. “You were following me. You stole my suitcase and bugged my computer.”

“Of course.”

Eve just gapes. How could she have been so oblivious? Eve had been in Berlin looking for Villanelle and the whole time Villanelle had been right behind her, watching her, like a cat watching a mouse in a maze.

“Is that why you killed Bill? To mess with me?” she asks, her voice cracking. She doesn’t want to talk about this and yet she needs to talk about it, because every time she thinks about Berlin it feels like a knife is twisting in her heart and she needs to know why Villanelle did it, needs to know, selfishly, whether or not it’s her own fault that Bill is dead.

Villanelle looks at her curiously and there must be something showing on Eve’s face because suddenly her features seem to soften a bit. “Eve, I am truly sorry about that,” she says. “I did not know what he meant to you.”

Eve looks into her eyes. Villanelle does look sorry, a lot sorrier than she looked last time they talked about this when they were sitting at Eve’s dining table, and yet Eve isn’t buying it, she’s too angry, she’s too hurt.

“He was my friend,” she says, and she feels tears stinging her eyes. “He was my friend, something you and I will never be because of what you did.”

“What I did?” Eve watches as a look of hurt passes across Villanelle’s face before it turns to anger. “What I did? Might I remind you that you stabbed me?”

“Well, you seem fine now,” Eve mutters.

“Do you have any idea, any idea, how much that fucking hurt?” Villanelle is raising her voice now and Eve can see out of the corner of her eye the driver’s hand tighten, ever so slightly, on the steering wheel. “I had to get hit by a car just to get a ride to the hospital, Eve. I had to wear a coat I found in the trash!”

“Villanelle,” Eve begins.

“I thought I would die, right there in the back of that cab,” Villanelle continues. “And then I woke up in the hospital with no idea if the Twelve had found me, if MI6 had found me, and then when I ran away I had to stay at the home of a crazy man with a bunch of dolls. And I called you, Eve. I tried to call you but you came too late.” She looks at Eve and for a moment her lower lip trembles and Eve thinks she might cry. She reaches a hand up slowly towards Villanelle’s cheek, but Villanelle turns away.

“I was doing my job,” she continues. “When I killed your partner. He saw me at the train station, he recognized your green scarf. I was compromised. He had to die.” She turns back to Eve, and all the emotion that had been on her face is now gone. “So do not blame this on me,” she says coldly. “You’re right, we will never be friends. You tried to kill me. This is your fault.”

Eve doesn’t speak. She’s afraid of the emotions that might spill out if she does. There are so many things she wants to ask about what Villanelle just said but she doesn’t think she can bear to hear what Villanelle went through after Eve stabbed her, doesn’t want to know how badly she hurt Villanelle, because for some reason she cares, even though this is the person who killed her closest friend and oh God Bill, Bill is dead, Bill was murdered and Eve is sitting here with his murderer wanting nothing more than to hold her hand and apologize, to never hear that amount of pain in Villanelle’s voice again.

She turns her back to Villanelle as her eyes sting with tears. She lets them fall for a while, too tired and hurt to try to stop them. She tries to stay as quiet as possible but she can’t help but sniffle a few times and she’s sure Villanelle knows she’s crying. She stares out the window until the tears won’t fall anymore and she just feels empty. They’ve left the lights of the city behind, and the car picks up speed as the drive past miles of farmland, without a car in sight.

Eve hears Villanelle shifting beside her and then she lets out a sigh. “I am sorry,” she said. “But do you mind if I lie down? I am very tired and I cannot get comfortable leaning against this window.”

“Oh.” Eve looks at the middle seat next to them. “Sure.”

Villanelle unbuckles her seatbelt and awkwardly lies down with her head millimeters from Eve’s thigh on the middle seat. She continues to try to get comfortable until Eve says, “Why don’t you just...put your head on my leg?”

She doesn’t think Villanelle will do it, given how angry she had been, but to her surprise Villanelle says “Thank you,” and rests her head on Eve’s thigh. She closes her eyes and Eve watches as her breathing becomes more even, her face peaceful. God, what she would give to be able to fall asleep like that, especially these days. Eventually she rests her hand lightly on the top of Villanelle’s head, feeling the soft hair under her thumb. She leans her head against the window and closes her eyes.

She must have fallen asleep, because when Villanelle shifts and Eve opens her eyes, they are no longer in farmland but on an empty road lined with giant trees, illuminated by a sun that is barely risen. Villanelle sits up, rubs one of her eyes, and looks around.

“Pull over,” she says to the driver. “I have to pee.”

“Are you serious?” Eve asks.

“Yes, it is serious,” Villanelle replies. Eve glances into the rearview mirror in front of her. The driver is looking at her through the mirror, waiting for Eve’s instructions. Eve sighs and looks down the forested road ahead of them.

“Fine,” she says. “Pull over.”

The driver does, and Eve leans her head back and closes her eyes as Villanelle gets out of the car and begins to walk around towards the driver’s side. It all happens in a split second. She hears the door in front of her open and by the time she’s opened her eyes Villanelle is leaning in towards the driver, who is spluttering as Villanelle pushes a small knife deep into his neck. Eve’s eyes widen and she can only watch in shock as Villanelle stares into his eyes with a mad, almost feral expresion, and Eve hears a sound like a foot stepping into a deep pool of mud as blood bubbles out of the wound with every cough.

“Darling Eve, could you undo his seatbelt for me, please?” Villanelle asks in a voice like honey, not taking her eyes off the driver. Eve, transfixed, reaches towards the seatbelt before she even knows what she’s doing and presses the release with a shaking finger. “Thank you, Eve,” Villanelle says, and she slowly steps back, pulling the dying man with her until he is out of the car completely, supported only by Villanelle’s arm holding him up. Then she releases her hold and pulls out the knife, and he falls face first into the dirt by the side of the road, blood pooling around his head. Eve undoes her own seatbelt and jumps out of the car, but even before she can even approach him she knows he is dead. She whirls around towards Villanelle.

“Y-you--I--I told you to leave the knife at home!”

“Oh that knife?” Villanelle shrugs. “That was merely a decorative knife,” she says. “This is the knife I use to kill.” She holds it up and Eve can see the blood glinting in the dawn light. She forces herself to breathe.

“Why did you kill him?”

“Oh Eve, were you really going to let him live?” Villanelle looks genuinely surprised. “After all he just heard? Something tells me you have not told your little friends about the fact that you stabbed me. I don’t imagine they would leave you alone with such a valuable asset if they had known you tried to kill me.” She turns around and examines the seat. “Shame. I had been hoping not to get any blood on the upholstery.”

“I--” Eve blinks. “So you did this...for me?”

Villanelle doesn’t answer. She walks over to the dead man, grabs him by the back of his jacket and flips him over. Eve takes a step back as Villanelle pats the front of the body for a moment before pulling out the handgun. She looks at it approvingly before wiping the edges of her knife on his shirt. She looks at Eve. “Which would you like?” she says, holding up the two weapons. “Oh, I don’t know why I asked. You are a stabber.” She grins and takes a step towards Eve, holding the hilt of the knife out towards her.

Eve doesn’t reach for it. “Why are you giving me a weapon?” she asks.

Villanelle shrugs. “It seems rude to take both. Besides, I do not think you want to stab me again.”

Eve shakes her head slowly. “No,” she says. “I don’t.”

Villanelle takes another small step towards Eve. “Good,” she says quietly. “Because that would make me very sad.”

Eve still doesn’t know what to make of what just happened. Her head is spinning and for some reason all she can think to ask is, “Are we...are we still going to see the Ghost?”

Villanelle frowns. “If you insist,” she says. “I was under the impression you didn’t much care about that.”

“I...I mean, it’s my job.”

“Well then go,” says Villanelle, dropping the hand holding the knife to her side. “I am not kidnapping you. You can take the car, I will call a cab.”

Eve blinks. “Wait, you’re not coming?”

Villanelle purses her lips. “No, I don’t think I really feel like it.”

“But you promised!” Eve says, suddenly seized by a panic. She will get fired for this for sure, her stupid plan has already cost a man his life, and soon they won’t have anything to show for it.

“I do not make promises, Eve,” Villanelle says. “Especially not to government agencies.”

“But we can protect you!” Eve says. “And--and we can give you more money, a place to stay, we can give you whatever you want--”

“There is only one thing I want,” Villanelle says. “And I do not want it in exchange for helping you. I want it,” she pauses and her features soften, “if you want it, too. That is the only way I want it.”

Eve just stares. She can feel her heart pounding in her chest. Villanelle is staring at her and of course Eve wants it. She’s always wanted it. She wanted it that first day she laid eyes on Villanelle in the bathroom, wanted it when Villanelle was in her apartment, wanted it before she drove the knife into Villanelle’s stomach, and it’s been driving her crazy trying to hold these feelings at bay, living in denial because it’s not just Villanelle’s interest in her that turns her on, no. It’s Villanelle. Eve wants Villanelle. And it doesn’t matter that Villanelle has just stabbed a man in the throat right in front of her, it doesn’t matter that the smell of blood hangs heavy in the air, if anything that only makes Eve want her more and oh God, oh God what is wrong with me...

She’s been staring at Villanelle silently long enough that the earnest look on Villenelle’s face has begun to falter. “But like I said, I am not kidnapping you,” she says with a shrug. “So if you want--”

Eve rushes forward and throws her arms around Villanelle’s neck, kissing her hard. Villanelle seems momentarily stunned but then Eve hears the sound of the knife and gun clattering on the pavement before she feels Villanelle’s arms wrap around her waist, squeezing her tight. Eve has never kissed a woman before and God she never knew it could be so soft, and so good, kissing Niko has never felt like this and oh no don’t think of Niko, don’t think of him just focus on Villanelle, Villanelle is kissing me, Villanelle is kissing me...

Villanelle walks Eve backwards slowly and without breaking their lips apart slams Eve’s door shut and presses Eve into it. She moves her lips down to Eve’s neck and Eve’s head falls back and a soft moan escapes her before she can stop it. Villanelle moans into Eve’s neck in response and Eve feels suddenly lightheaded as all the blood in her brain rushes lower and she can’t even remember the last time she was this turned on.

She pulls Villanelle’s face back up to hers and kisses her eagerly, sloppily, wanting to taste every inch of her mouth. Villanelle moans again, and Eve doesn’t think she’s ever heard anything so sexy.

“I have wanted this for so long,” Villanelle breathes between kisses, and Eve can’t help but laugh, though it comes out low and breathy.

“I know.”

“Mmm, you are so arrogant,” Villanelle says, letting go of Eve’s waist and pressing her hands to Eve’s stomach, where only a thin tank top separates her skin from Villanelle’s. “I like it,” she says, before biting Eve’s lip lightly.

Then she slips her hands under Eve’s shirt and Eve gasps, clutching desperately at the collar of Villanelle’s dress. Villanelle’s hands explore her stomach, the underwire of her bra, and then upward. “Is this okay?” she whispers in Eve’s ear.

“Y--yes,” Eve chokes out. “It’s...it’s really good.” Villanelle smirks as she cups Eve’s breasts over he bra and begins to nip at Eve’s neck. Eve’s hands drift outward, away from Villanelle’s neck towards her shoulders and down to the hard muscle of Villanelle’s biceps. She can feel Villanelle’s skin through the mesh of her dress and she squeezes. Villanelle responds by sucking hard on Eve’s neck and suddenly it’s all too much, Eve needs to take back some control. She grabs Villanelle’s waist and flips them around, roughly pushing Villanelle into the car door, loving the little squeak of surprise from Villanelle as she does so. She puts her mouth on Villanelle’s neck and licks and bites at the impossibly soft skin.

“Oh Eve,” Villanelle groans. “Eve, Eve, Eve, you better not be teasing me right now,” she says breathlessly. “You better want this for real because I don’t know if I can handle it if you don’t.”

“Shut up,” Eve says lifting her head. She looks into Villanelle’s eyes as she reaches down and presses her hand right between Villanelle’s legs, watches as her eyes widen in surprise and then become clouded with arousal, and Eve can feel the heat through Villanelle’s dress. Villanelle opens her mouth like she wants to say something but for the first time she seems completely speechless and Eve presses her own thighs together as another wave of arousal shoots through her.

“I--I’m sorry, I actually have no idea what I’m doing,” she admits, and Villanelle laughs breathily.

“You are so cute,” she says, and Eve feels her heart do a flip. Then Villanelle places her hand over Eve’s and presses Eve’s fingers into her, moaning as she does so. She leans her head back and Eve tentatively presses her fingers harder, more insistently between Villanelle’s legs.

“God, this stupid dress!” Villanelle moans in frustration. “Why did I have to wear a dress?”

“Maybe if you weren’t so dramatic, I could get you off” Eve says, and the moan that escapes Villanelle at that hardly even sounds human. Eve leans back in to kiss Villanelle’s neck as she rubs her hand faster between her legs. The movement feels awkward and she isn’t quite sure if she’s applying the pressure in the right place but Villanelle is breathing harder and faster so Eve must be doing something right. After a minute, Villanelle reaches up to Eve’s shoulders and pushes her back.

“Hold on,” she gasps. “Hold on, I do not want to--I don’t want to come this way,” she says, and Eve lets her hand drop to her side. She looks into Villanelle’s flushed face and notices a light sheen of sweat on her forehead, sees that some of her hair has fallen out of her perfect ponytail. Eve has never seen her look so completely undone, and she suddenly wonders what it would be like to make Villanelle come, to look into her eyes as the pleasure spreads through her body and her muscles seize up and--

“I want to have you, Eve,” Villanelle says, and her breathing is returning to normal, her voice closer to the deep purr she usually uses with Eve. “I want to have you right now on the hood of this car.”

“Oh God,” Eve breathes. Villanelle pushes Eve’s jacket off of her shoulders and Eve lets it fall and then Villanelle takes her hand and begins to lead her around to the front of the car. She can barely believe what is happening and it crosses her mind that she’s about to pass a point of no return, that she could stop things right now and maybe retain some level of sanity, but she doesn’t want to. She’s been in too deep for a long time now and there’s no use in pretending otherwise. They reach the front of the car and suddenly Villanelle grabs her under her arms and hoists her onto the hood. Eve kicks off her shoes and leans back. The front of the car is slightly sloped downwards and Villanelle grabs Eve’s legs and wraps them around her waist to hold her up. Then she reaches up towards Eve’s hair.

“You have amazing hair,” she whispers, and then her hands are tangled in it as they kiss once again, deeply, hungrily. Then Villanelle’s hands move towards the button of Eve’s pants.

“Are you sure no one is going to drive by?” Eve asks.

Villanelle looks up at her and licks her lips. “I honestly do not much care if they do.”

“Me neither,” Eve breathes, and Villanelle undoes the button of Eve’s pants and begins to slide them off of her waist. Eve holds herself up on her hands as Villanelle pulls them off and tosses them aside. She looks approvingly at the lacy underwear underneath.

“Did you wear these for me?” Villanelle asks. “Hmm, had you maybe hoped this would happen?”

“Yes,” Eve says, because there’s no denying it anymore, she had dressed carefully knowing that Villanelle was going to be coming over, something inside her had always known this was a possibility, that this was inevitable.

“Eve, you naughty girl,” Villanelle purrs. “Does the bra match?” And then she grabs the hem of Eve’s shirt and Eve lifts her arms, gasping as Vilanelle pulls it over her head. “Cold?”

It is a little chilly out, but Eve’s body feels like it’s on fire. “No,” she says. “I’m fine.”

Villanelle reaches around her and lays the shirt along the hood of the car behind Eve. “Lay back on this,” she says, gently pushing Eve’s shoulders. Eve does as she’s told. “You have such an incredible body.”

Eve feels uncomfortably exposed, but Villanelle is looking her up and down with a hungry look in her eyes that makes it clear she likes what she sees. She places a hand on each of Eve’s thighs and leans in to press a kiss to her stomach, right above her belly button. Eve gasps and threads her fingers through Villanelle’s hair.

“God, I cannot get enough of you,” Villanelle murmurs against her skin, kissing her way down to Eve’s pantyline and then back up again. She reaches up and slips a hand under Eve’s bra, pinching a nipple. “I want to taste you, Eve.”

“Please,” Eve gasps. “Please do it.”

Villanelle doesn’t need telling twice. She pulls down Eve’s panties and lowers her mouth, moving each of Eve’s legs over her shoulders. When her mouth makes contact, Eve moans loudly and tugs at Villanelle’s hair, urging her on. “Eve, you are soaking,” Villanelle says.

“Shut up,” Eve gasps with a choked giggle. “Please shut up for once.”

Villanelle licks rougly at Eve’s clit forcing Eve to gasp “Oh God!” Villanelle is incredibly talented down there, not that Eve expected anything different. She digs her fingernails into Eve’s thighs as she licks and sucks, responding to each gasp from Eve with more enthusiasm. “Please be loud, baby,” Villanelle says. “I love hearing you.”

Eve holds Villanelle’s hair tightly in both hands and lets out a stream of incoherent moans. “Fuck fuck Villanelle oh God oh yes please don’t stop baby please…”

It’s not long before Eve comes hard against Villanelle’s mouth, squeezing Villanelle’s head with her thighs and gasping for breath. “Oksana!” she chokes out right before the orgasm completely takes over her body, and when it’s done all she can do is lay back on the car, gasping for air, feeling the cool metal beneath her hot skin. Villanelle moves away and then a moment later she has hoisted herself up on the hood and lays down next to Eve, pressing a soft kiss to Eve’s sweaty shoulder.

“Th-thank you,” Eve gasps, and Villanelle laughs.

“You are very welcome,” Villanelle says, tracing her fingers across Eve’s hipbone. Eve turns to look at her. She is propped up on one elbow and is staring at Eve with a small smile on her lips. “So what now?” she asks. “Is it time to go to the Ghost?”

“You said you didn’t want to go.”

“Please, Eve, there is no point in kidding ourselves after that. You know I would do anything for you.”

She’s not lying, Eve realizes as she looks deep into the soft green eyes. No, Villanelle doesn’t do anything halfway. Eve shakes her head slowly. “No,” she says. “No, I don’t think we need to go there.”

Villanelle raises her eyebrows, even as her smile grows larger. “No?” she asks. “You will get fired.”

“I’ve been fired before.”

“Ah,” says Villanelle. “Is that because of me?”

Eve laughs. “It’s always because of you,” she says. “Everything is.”

“Well, I can’t say I am sorry about that,” Villanelle says. She leans in slowly to kiss Eve but Eve robs her of the chance, sliding off the car and looking around for her clothes. She gets dressed and looks back at Villanelle who is sitting up on the car, leaning back on her arms. Her dress is crumpled and her hair is half out of its ponytail and Eve has never seen anything so breathtaking in her entire life. She stares for a moment longer until Villanelle raises her eyebrows. “So? What are we doing now?”

Eve smiles. “Do you wanna go watch a movie?”