2009-11-28: What Came To Him

Starring:

Emily_V4icon.png

Guest Starring: Trenton Hawthorne

Date: November 28, 2009

Summary:

Emily gets Hallis a present. She leaves off the red bow, though.


"What Came to Him"

Trenton Hawthorne's penthouse apartment

Earlier in the night he had roofied their drinks; now it's Emily's chance to pay him back…not necessarily in kind, but in her own unique way. It's even better that he's one of the city's biggest male socialites, and part of an on again-off again tryst with Hallis. Emily is not the sort to take kindly to being drugged and taken advantage of (even if it amounted to nothing!)…no, not at all; she's the one who's supposed to be doing the preying. Evolved are, after all, predators, right?

Once Hallis and Sydney had left the club, soaked through with sangria, and fortuitously undrugged, Emily was left alone with Trenton. He hadn't made any attempt all night to hide his interest in the woman, and now that all pretenses of being faithful in the least to Hallis, he's left to flirt and flaunt obscenely in his primitive, instinctual mating dance. For whatever reason, he feels the need to strut and preen, show how big and beautiful his feathers are, how big his…fangs are, or in this case, how big his bank account is. More than once during the evening, filled with plenty of schnapps and whatever he's drinking, he'd promised Emily the world; any other time, she'd take him up on the offer by cleaning out his accounts. Tonight, though, she's got an ulterior motive, as twisted and misguided as it may be.

Tonight, Trenton is going to become a present to Hallis, from Emily. As a way of saying thank you for the boots Hallis so generously paid for Emily to have.

It barely took any nudging at all to get Trenton to take her back to his place, which ultimately, makes her job easier. Sure, during the cab ride she let him feel all over her…doesn't mean she liked it; doesn't mean it's wasn't an act. It wasn't much for her to put on the happy mask, playing the 'drunk' girl he expects to take to bed, letting him neck all over her, get a feel of her long legs, and other things that even a New York City cab driver would find hard to ignore from the front seat.

Once in the apartment, things didn't take long. Clothes were quickly strewn about the penthouse apartment from door to bedroom; a boot here, a pair of slacks there, socks on the couch…wherever things were thrown, that's where they were left, for the night. Trenton's reaction to the goodies wasn't surprising in the least, if the chesire grin on his face was any indication, just a shame he won't get the chance to tell folks about it…


Eight, nine…ten hours later. Time's a little hazy, and Emily lies next to Trenton in his bed. Sun pours in through the large windows of the glamorous penthouse; the city looks particularly still and quiet from here, something Emily admires. She's in a robe and he's (thankfully) covered by bedsheets. Long fingers stroke through his hair, as the two lie there following the events of the night. Trenton, doesn't seem to be responsive though; he lies there, taking deep, slow breaths. His eyes are open, but they stare blankly at the ceiling. At some point in the night, Emily has worked her magic. Just when she did…well, that's open for debate. In the end, the result is the same: Trenton is now a prisoner inside his own body. Oh, his mind still works, it's just mostly disconnected from the rest of his body. His heart beats, his breathing continues, his thoughts carry on…but he's a passenger in his body. He can see and hear, but he can't change where he looks or say a thing. Trenton is trapped inside his body forever now, in a condition that appears as a vegetative state to the outside world.

"Oh Trenton…you just had to drug those drinks, didn't you?" Emily asks, sweet as sugar now, knowing he can hear every single world she says. Before long though, she's sliding out of bed, not in any rush to clean up. "I do hope you've learned your lesson. This is what you get for being a chauvinistic, cheating asshole." This time, the sweetness has an edge to it…almost like a poisoned apple. There's a cruel smile on Emily's lips as she primps in the mirror. She didn't kill anyone…she did promise to be good after all. But this is the next best thing…and should make for a fine present. When she finishes primping, she just has to leave a note! Of course, for effect, she does it in red lipstick on his mirror.

'Trenton Hawthorne is a cheating bastard. He roofies drinks and expects there to be no penalties for his behavior. Tonight, things turned out the opposite way for him. This is a present to a woman who loved him and was paid back by his cheating ways.' It's big enough to use up most of the tube, and take up the entirety of the large bureau mirror. Just to add insult to injury, she applies the red to her lips, puckering up and making sure it's just perfect.

Once dressed, she leaves a nice big kiss mark, right on his forehead. "Well, Trenton, I wish I could say it was good, but it wasn't. Maybe you'll learn something through all of this. At the very least, you can make Hallis happy." Throwing her hair over her shoulder, she steps through the door, Trenton's cell phone in hand as she leaves his (nearly) lifeless body to be found. "Information? I need the number for the New York Times…I've got a juicy story about Trenton Hawthorne…"

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