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Mr. Rook had been very cordial when he asked Dale to stay inside. She could see the lines on his face, and they looked even deeper than they had been when she had first arrived at his house those few nights ago. Dale reached out her fingers, and her butler leaned forward to let her touch his cheek. There wasn't romantic affection in it, Dale she was judging her power over him.

"Am I really that much trouble?" she finally laughed, as her fingertips grazed the last wrinkles of his chin.

"You do cause me to worry a great deal, Miss Spencer," replied the butler. Dale just shrugged before flopping onto the bed. Mr. Rook had given up his bed for her, of course, while he slept on the couch. It wasn't comfortable enough for Dale, of course, and she always complained to him about it whenever she could.

Still, whenever she complained, he just smiled at her. He never let her complaining bother him, and that made her do it all the more. His smile was infectious, though, and usually forgot about what she was complaining about in the first place. It was probably the closest thing to true, platonic love that Dale experienced in her life.

It was a shame that she didn't listen to him when, a few hours later, she was limping down the streets of Destiny City.

She had realized something. What had caused that initial spiral downhill? What had caused her to lose her initial "oomph"?

That's right. It was the Valkyrie senshi.

"Walküre... this time..." she hissed. "When I find you, I'll make you mine."

Maybe it was the breathing that gave her away. That heavy, labored breathing that came from sprained and healing ribs. Maybe it was the feeling of that warm breath that started to ooze past the hair on the back of her neck and into her very pores.

Or maybe it was the hand that lurched out from the darkness and slammed against the window's glass.

"Sailor Walküre," Variscite spat. Her eyes almost looked bloodshot in the night, and were wide with rage. "Long time no see."

She was standing so close to the senshi. If Walküre turned around, they would be practically chest-to-chest.

"You look different. Had a good couple of months wallowing in your happiness?!"

"Don't talk to me about recovery!" Variscite bellowed, so loud and livid that spit from her outburst landed on Walküre's cheek. "If I recall correctly, you found yourself beaten and bloodied as well."

Variscite clenched her fist, her nails raking noisily against the glass.

"I bet those kittens are nice. I bet it's not so bad when you fail, is it?" Variscite leered, leaning in so her eyelashes touched Walkure's forehead. "You have no idea what kind of s**t I've gone through since we last met."

Variscite backed up with a limp, her claws shining and outstretched.

"But I don't need to be at perfect health to defeat a slutty Valkyrie like you!" The extent of her injuries weren't easily seen, but it was obvious that she was in pain. She was either mad, or desperate... or both. It wouldn't take the Senshi of Battle long to pound her into the pavement.

"Come on! Don't tell me you're too honorable. I'll even let you get the first swipe!"

If Variscite had tried to sidestep the punch, she would've gone down. Luckily, it seemed like Variscite had somewhat of a grasp on the extent of her injuries, so she quickly bent instead, letting the fist graze the top of her head.

"Of course I know how to talk to ladies!" the furious woman reeled up. "I just don't consider ones who parade around--"

Variscite swung with her claws.

"Dressed up like a busy viking--"

She lowered herself again when she saw that her scratch missed.

"-- Wrestling in the dirt!!"

Variscite flung herself forward, attempting to tackle the Senshi of Battle.

Variscite enjoyed being on top of her opponent. Not only were there the sexual connotations of 'topping', but there was power alongside it. And, of course, it made things easier for Variscite to strike.

She wasn't surprised when Walküre grabbed her wrists. She was surprised when it caused pain to ring throughout her hands and arms. Her bruised and torn muscles screamed almost as loudly as she did. Variscite squeezed her eyes shut, pulling back, scrambling away to get from the valkyrie.

Since she wasn't trying to reach for Walküre's throat, the lieutenant was able to finally wrench her hands out, and she rolled away to defend herself. She rubbed her damaged hands and wrists, cursing Obsidian under her breath. Of course she would find the senshi she wanted to fight the most... while she was injured.

Variscite glowered up at Walküre with clenched teeth, practically seething.

"I couldn't walk by and just do nothing!" she spat. "I haven't been able to get you off of my mind-- and like HELL I was going to let you go--"

Variscite struggled to her feet, gulping in air like she was at a water fountain. "Every punch, every kick, every mark of your hands on my body..." Variscite ran a hand across her own collarbone. "They've all been forever imprinted on me. Their marks won't disappear until I kill you, Senshi of Battle, so of course I had to attack!"

She started to stumble forward. "I'm not walking away from this, even if I have to gnaw at your toes with my final breath!"

She tripped, then, and fell to her knees. Even though it took a lot of effort, she started to scramble up again, her movements disjointed and erratic-- and very painful-looking.

I suppose it could be said that Variscite was lucky that Walküre didn't punch her ribs, but it didn't make the attack hurt any less. She grit her teeth and lashed out with her claws, but her eyes were squinted and she only entangled her fingers in the senshi's hair.

Variscite was tired. A part of her was cursing the fact that she had gone after the senshi in the first place, but she had to. Everything was Walküre's fault, right? Everything. It had all started to go downhill with that fight. Yes, it was certainly all her fault.

Variscite tried to bring in Walküre's head closer. She knew that she would probably end up with a headbutt to her forehead, but she had to take that chance. Something inside of her was urging her to do it, something that Variscite couldn't ignore.

No, she just didn't want to.

Variscite's kiss was like a feather. It was weak, and too gentle. Her kisses normally weren't like that, but did she have a choice? She was so weak, so of course her kiss would reflect that.

She wrenched her claws tighter around Walküre's skull and tried to deepen her kiss, only to seize in pain.

No headbutt came. No slap. Walküre's body didn't even become tense from anger, she was just surprised. It was reassuring, and Variscite was sorry that she didn't have more strength to put into the kiss. Walküre's lips were the more powerful of the two, and that was different from what Variscite usually experienced. It was a nice change, being the weaker of the two-- though Variscite would never admit it. She was the gentleman, after all.

Variscite let go of the senshi's head when Walküre pulled away. Even if she could've held on, the girl had already kissed her back. This sudden shyness that struck her was charming. Normally kisses or gentle touches fueled the skirted warriors' anger more. But, not this time.

"They called things-- things, feelings... they called them 'little deaths'. When a man slept with a woman, he'd say that he died inside of her..."

Variscite suddenly bit her lip. In all honesty, she had forgotten the last part of her speech. She looked down, color tinting her too-pale cheeks.

"Sorry, trying to bring history into this kind of ruined the moment, didn't it?" She laughed, but it came out more like a wheeze. "For someone that I referred to as slutty... no, I was wrong. Your kiss is too sweet for that title. Thank you."

And then Variscite collapsed, moaning in pain.

"You've gotten better at fighting..."