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For London, it was easy to maintain her figurative cool as the taller man stepped forward and pushed a damp lock of hair from her eyes. It was harder to maintain that cool when she realized he was simply teasing. For a moment she had expected a kiss, a forceful push into the wall as he had done so many times before, blocking her body with his own as he seemed prone to do.

But he only grabbed her hand and denied her kiss, again. If there hadn't been so much promise to his words, she might have protested, but instead she only offered him a playful pout and curled her fingers tighter around his own.

"It had better be a very good offer, Mr. Black."

The pout had faded to a smile at her words and she followed him without resistance, letting him tug her through the door and into the old tower that seemed abandoned by all but the miscreants of Destiny City.

"I don't let just anyone take me to isolated buildings in the middle of nowhere."

London smirked at Chase's words - she wasn't expecting him to disappoint her. Of course, she also wasn't expecting whatever sales pitch he was tossing her way. Was this one of those terrible facebook pyramid schemes come to life?

The golden eyes remained on Chase as he stepped to the center and began to speak, letting her eyes roam his form as she took a few steps to begin circling him slowly. There were debris scattered beneath her battered chucks but her feet were light and her balance was as on point as always. Wherever her feet fell, she kept moving with the grace only earned by years and years of practice and confidence in herself. The smile on her face remained steady beneath a raised eyebrow until, at last, he got close to hinting at something that had always been on her mind.

"Did I ever wonder how?" She echoed his words with a pleased laugh, turning fully to face him. "Did I ever wonder how a fancy suit managed to be faster than me? More agile than me?"

She picked her way across the floor so that she could be closer to him, standing just off-center of the gaping dome overhead. Her form was so much smaller than his, short and tiny by comparison, but she held every ounce of ferocity she had ever earned in her stance then.

"Of course I did, which is why I kept coming back. You've filled out a little more since then," there was no hiding the way her eyes dropped from his to fall to his shoulders, tracing the line of them beneath his shirt. Down they dipped from shoulders to chest, from chest to waistline - they skirted low and rose again with that smirk still in place, though her eyes were more observant than her playfulness suggested. "But you still make no sense to me, Acey. Even now - especially now."

"What is all this about?"

With both of her arms crossed over her chest, she watched him step closer to her so that she had to strain her neck back to look up at his eyes. The darkness in his face, solemn and alarming enough that she knew he meant her to find him dangerous, spark some electric curiosity in her gut. A shiver trailed up the length of her spine as she stood there beneath his eyes and listened to his promises. The tone of their atmosphere suddenly made her shift and open up at last as both arms dropped and hooked a thumb into her belt loops.

There was more here than idle flirting. Chase wanted her attention drawn to something.

"Adrenaline and magic, hm?"

As she spoke, she traced the span of his arms and walked a few steps forward so that they were forced into one another's bubbles once more. As she came to focus her gaze on his chest and down to his core, she reached out and pressed the flat of one fingertip against the hard-packed muscle she could feel beneath. It was innocent enough, though her gaze followed it as it ran back up and nestled just above his breastbone.

"You're keeping a very big secret from me, aren't you?" The words were spoken in the air between them as she stared blankly at the shirt stretched over his chest. It gave her some privacy, face tucked down below his eyes, while she tried to decide between several possible outcomes. She could feel the weight in the air between them and while she had to admit she always felt drawn to the charming man, she had always been able to dismiss him at the end of the day. Now? Now she felt drawn to something different in him - not just his charisma, but now, too, some strength and confidence that hadn't been there before.

"Tell me."

Whatever words London might have spoken in that moment died on her tongue, destroyed beneath a succession of subtle changes that left her feeling dazed.

First his lips were but a breath away and his hand, warm and familiar, caught her cheek as it had a dozen times before - and then it was different. He was wearing gloves and his beautiful, brilliant eyes were shaded in a dark hood that left her narrowing her eyes until he stepped away and pulled it down. As it fell, so did her eyes, roaming over his form in a way that it hasn't just minutes before. There were so many details about him the were different and seeing him like that somehow made sense - it felt right, it fit the way his face had aged and his eyes had darkened.

And then, she remembered, that flash or colors as she had found herself falling in his arms all those years ago. Her breath caught in a fast and she stepped back a fraction in her surprise, snapping her eyes up to meet his.

"I've seen something like this before, the day that I fell.."

He said he'd had a little help, hadn't he?

She was laughing then, light and disbelieving. Her sweet, charming Chase had turned into something dark and strong. She would have been lying to say that she did not enjoy seeing it in him - the appeal it held was written in the half smile of her lips and the admiration (and maybe pride) shining in her eyes.

"Well aren't you a big boy, now, Acey." She propped her elbow on one hand and brought the other up toner lips, nipping at her thumbnail in a fidgeting, contemplative motion. "I've seen your men before, when Ive run through the shadows at night, ducking down alleys. You're a difficult group of people to escape."

It was hard to find words to speak.

Part of her knew that Chase (or whoever he was as this man) was offering her something far greater than she would gain. There was no doubt in her that he had earned some immense power since she highly doubted he meant magic in the silly stage show sort of way. No, she could feel it in him, vibrating beneath the hand she now splayed against his chest.

So, for a few moments, she simply let his words fall on her shoulders as he tugged and twirled a wild, stray lock of hair. As she finally found her voice beneath her awe, that hunger he felt spread to her lips and parted them in a wide, knowing smile.

"If this is your way of trying to trap me here, it's working." The smile broke into a soft but, if she were being honest, not entirely confident laugh. London liked to act when she knew what was in store beyond her decision - this was the unknown. Her eyes searched his for any hint of what he wanted from her, what he might expect, but there was nothing. All she had was her trust in him, as Chase.

"What would you have me do?"

By now, London was well aware he was trying to sell her something - just like she was well aware that she was buying.

Her eyes fluttered half-closed as his mouth dipped and brushed against hers and her body leaned forward, trying to close the distance he was teasing between them. Each of his breaths fanned across her skin like Novocaine, leaving her numb and tingling in the wake of his sweet, wicked nothings. She was obvious. What she wanted was obvious. Some others might have been ashamed to realize that someone had figured out how to make them dance like a puppet so easily but not her; she was just so damn proud of him.

Years ago she had wanted him to bend to her, to let her play with his heartstrings even as she told him there would never be any real strings at all and now here they stood, the tables turned. There would be strings and he was her puppeteer.

As he leaned away, she fell back to the flat of her feet, abandoning that teasing search of his lips. Her eyes rose to ones so eerily similar - right down to the hunger she knew was echoed in her own.

"Deal," she heard herself breathe into the space between them without an ounce of hesitation. Her eyes were steady on his despite the fire crackling between them - she knew, now, that there was a life-changing deal behind this little game they were playing.

"It's a deal, Acey."

That first, cold breach of his fingers felt like nothing that London had ever experienced - like he was touching some part of her that she had not only never known, but suddenly knew he had no place being. The icy fingers that touched her fiery soul felt like they were clenched around her very heart and squeezing, despite the way she felt the pumping muscle battering like a caged bird against her ribs. She opened her lips and closed them again, forgetting whatever smart-assed retort she'd had sitting on her tongue.

There was nothing but that chilling, icy fire surging into what she could only call her soul. It poured into her like an ocean, setting her veins ablaze and leaving them frostbitten in the wake. There was only a dim awareness of Chase, or the General, at all as her consciousness sank beneath her own skin and her mind tried to ride the waves of his power like a surf. She felt his hand on her hip, the line of his body as he held her against him for support, but there was no pleasure for her to find in the gesture - her own hands had curled in the fabric of his cloak and held, still, like he was a lifeline and not the sole reason for her drowning. The fire of their continued tension was lost beneath the actual fire that was Labyrinthite - he poured himself into her flesh and she waited, beaten like a rock in his storm.

The only constant was the sound of her own breathing in her ears, ragged and pained, but the metronome to which she judged the passage of those few, utterly painful moments. When the pain first began to ease she opened her eyes, unaware that she had ever closed them, to stare at the whiskey-eyed man that had just claimed some part of her as his own. She had no words, but neither had she fallen or fainted. London had passed some threshold and joined him on the other side, whole and ignorant that she could have surfaced as anything less.

"That all you got, Acey?"

The words, though playful, were anything but - even to her own ears they sounded like barely more than a ragged whisper and she felt her chest beneath his hand still rising and falling rapidly. The pain pulsing through her veins still echoed aftershocks of - well, what had he even done to her?