In the Blood [ON HOLD]

"Wonderland"

When she started picking at what was left of her food, Remi decided he might as well throw his cards on the table. He sighed and scooped up both their plates, placing them in the sink. She blinked slowly at him, like her physical motions were having to take a backseat to her racing thoughts.

He wondered if this was a mistake.

"Give me a minute to change and then," he frowned at what she was wearing, "we'll get you something to wear."

If it was a mistake, then it was hers for wanting to know more than was good for her. 

He walked toward the door, mind shuffling through the things he still needed to get done today, and which of those wouldn't scare her too badly. The club would have to be the first stop; he needed to take care of a suspicious lack of funds. Plus Danny would be in the ring tonight.

"You still haven't told me where we're going!" she called.

Remi stopped at the door and looked back. Her eyes were narrowed, her lovely mouth set in a grimace. He wanted to see how far he could get with this air of mystery bid.

A smirk curled his lips. "Wonderland."

An indignant huff from her made him laugh, and he left the kitchen. He strode to the stairs, then up them to his room, unbuttoning his shirt. Toeing off his shoes, he threw his shirt in a hamper, grimacing when he remembered he'd left his tie and jacket in the kitchen.

Having things out of their place annoyed him. Enough that he let out a sigh and went back downstairs to the kitchen. Charlie was still sitting at the island, her head in her hands, thumbs massaging her temples.

The action made his own lingering headache throb lightly in sympathy.

His socked feet were silent on the wood floors, but her head still jerked up, blue eyes widening.

"Well if you can go like that, then I'll be just fine in this," she said, expression turning dry.

The corner of his mouth twitched up without his permission. Not gracing that with a retort, he grabbed his clothes, not missing how her gaze lingered on the scar just below his ribcage on the right side.

But she didn't ask. She hadn't asked the other night either, even as her fingers had traced the ones across his back and her tongue had explored the one right next to his heart.

And he wasn't inclined to offer an answer until she asked the question. Even then he was sure he wouldn't be inclined to answer.

Turning on his heel, he made the trip back to his room and quickly hung up the jacket, putting the tie back in its place. His fingers skimmed over the other ties before he settled on a black silk.

He needed something menacing tonight.

The grey trousers were replaced with black ones. Black shirt, black jacket. Tie in a simple Windsor. He put the brown shoes he had been wearing earlier away, trading them for shined black as well.

A nearly silent step behind him let him know her curiosity had gotten the better of her.

He took a moment to check himself in the mirror, then turned. There was something in her gaze that made him wonder if he'd miscalculated and the all black clothes just made him look washed-out, rather than menacing.

Then again, a white shirt would show blood much too easily if it came down to that.

She stepped into the closet, glancing around at the rows of neat suit jackets and precisely folded shirts, before turning a speculative look on him. He raised an eyebrow as she stepped around him, heading toward the back of the closet where he kept his watches, tie pins and cufflinks.