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Chapter Text

“How long has Chief been at it?” The door to the training hall swished close as Hella came to settle herself beside the other spectator.

Cinnabar, who was sitting upon one of the resting benches along the walls, turned to greet her. The shield woman was a frequent bystander to these Chief’s and Wendy’s late-night bashings. Anyone who came to check on Chief would always say that Cinnabar could be seen reading through some reports. Reports that she offered to look over to help relief some responsibilities from Chief since Cinnabar was still worried about Chief’s mental stability, but Hella knew better than to trust the old-guard dog’s official statement.

Hella choosing to stand by the edge of the bench, arms crossed as she leaned against the wall. Cinnabar returning to her own work, but not before giving Chief a swift inspection.

“She’s been breaking things for about 3 hours,” Cinnabar answered. Her eyes returned to the reports in hand as she tried not to show the growing agitation from Chief’s unwavering destruction.

Chief hadn’t even noticed Hella had arrived. She was to hyper-focused on destroying whatever object was in front of her as she swung a light bat around. The older woman was just finishing off some cubic boxes when Wendy brought over an old radio stereo to continue their session of breaking, slashing, beating, and screaming within this make-shift rage room.

It was only fit that Wendy would be her companion of choice. Afterall, destruction was Wendy’s field of expertise as the teen girl brought plenty of sturdy things for Chief to wreck.

“I’m worried about her,” Cinnabar could no longer tolerate Chief’s crude attempts of repressing whatever demons were running in her mind. Finding some solace in confining onto the younger girl purely because she was technically closer to Chief than any other sinner, save for Hecate, “Do you think that sinner who kidnapped Chief… might have done something to her?” Her hands wrinkling the corners of the reports at the image of a defenseless Chief being tortured in unspeakable manners.

“She’d better not or else,” Hella’s eyes down casted with promised malice if that woman had dared to lay one finger on Chief.

Sighing deeply, Hella tried not to envision such an awful thing as the two watched Chief beat down upon the old radio. Wendy rooting for her to use her waist for more power as Chief screamed her bat into its metallic frame.

Why was Chief so upset?

No one could ever guest it, since Chief had no intentions of ever revealing her terrible secret to anyone. The pathetic reality that within those three weeks of co-living with Angell, she had stupidly fallen in love with her.

Her feelings, that refused to die no matter how much she told herself she hated Angell, leaked its sickening poison in everything she did. Angell ruined everything that made her the dependable Chief of the MBCC. So much that Chief did everything in her power to return to normal. But no matter how much she told herself that she despised that woman, all her efforts would be undone at the mention of that sinner.

There she was again, thinking about her for the one million time in their training session. Remembering the way Angell had stroked her cheeks, her eyes reflecting deep mystical understanding as her lips dared to convey their shared mutual attraction.

All for it to have been a lie.

Flashes of Angell’s perfect performance making Chief grip her bat even tighter as she hammered down ferociously. To think she had subjected herself to cleaning, cooking, and caring for her kidnapper, to have invested herself within that small apartment and dared to believe that somehow, they were meant to be. A hopeless delusion cut short at Angell’s merciless betrayal at the bitter end.

And damn her letter that explained everything!! Chief swatted the radio across the room, the device crashing into the wall with Wendy hooting her on, “That’s right Chief! Finish it off!! Make it hurt!!”

Chief’s breathing was erratic, wiping off the sweat from her forehead as she waved the bat alongside her. Approaching the little remains of the communication device to deliver its final kill: Swinging from above, Chief ended her feelings for the 8th night.

A calming silence bathing Chief with artificial release, it was over.

Meanwhile, Wendy destroyed a chair out of overwhelming glee. Regaining her awareness of the occupants in the room, Chief was surprised to discover Hella had joined them. Checking her wristwatch, Chief noted it was now 11 pm.

“What are you doing here?” Chief grabbed her towel, wrapping it around her neck. Pressing the ends against her temples as she strolled to the two sinners on standby.

Hella shrugged, “Got bored hanging out in my room. Decided to walk around and figured I’d come say hi.”

Chief gave her best smile that failed to reach her eyes, “You’re just in time, I was going to treat these two to some dinner.”

“A meal from Chief?” Hella placed a hand on her hips, debating whether to go along with it or start interrogating Chief’s masking. Ultimately pretending to have not noticed, since the timing didn’t feel right, “Now we’re talking! Hey, hey, should I call Hecate to come join us?”

Chief dropped her bat, letting it roll on the floor. She made a mental note to come back later to cover her tracks, “Why not,” Chief removed her protective gloves, placing them in her back pocket, “Have anything you want to eat?”

Cinnabar narrowed her eyes, finding courage with Hella present to at last get to the bottom of Chief’s obsession. But when she dared to open her mouth, when she caught Chief’s silent plea against it, Cinnabar lost all her confidence, “I appreciate the offer, though I have to ask: Is there a restaurant open at this time?”

Wendy huffed at Cinnabar’s sound reasoning, “Boo! I’m hungry now!! I want to eat steak!”

Chief was relief that Cinnabar and Hella respected her silence, “Then how about I cook?” and all eyes widen at the surprising new skill she revealed, “What? Am I not allowed to cook for you guys?”

Hella wordlessly wowed, growing a bit suspicious at the talent, “You sure you know how?”

“Do you want steak or not?”

“I want steak!” Wendy cheered.

“Hella why don’t you go ask if Hecate wants to join us?” Chief motioned for the others to follow her, “We’ll be at the cafeteria, I’m sure we can find some steaks for a dinner of 5.”

Hella agreed. Though as Chief led the way out, all three sinners shared a mutual exchange: Who was going to ask? Afterall, this couldn’t go on any longer. Splitting up, Hella left it to Cinnabar since Wendy was definitely not the best candidate to fish for answers. Taking no offense, Wendy also depended on Cinnabar since the older woman had more experience dealing with emotions.

Tonight, they would finally solve Chief’s destructive blues.

Chief didn’t notice their telepathic conspiracy as she talked about some random job. Cinnabar and Wendy, placing their input when needed, walked behind her as they ventured into the elevator and towards the dining hall.

When they had arrived, the cafeteria was empty. The crew having gone home with meals preps saved within the large fridges and freezers. Chief avoided grabbing those rations and instead took the ingredients needed for steak, a vegetable mix, and potatoes.

She had decided on a simple stake dinner. Filling her basket with ingredients, she gave a soft satisfying hum from her curving lips. Making dinner had filled her with calming nostalgia. It seemed cooking was the only good thing she had kept from her days of captivity.

Picking up the bundle of asperges, the first thing she imagined was Angell’s stoic face as she munched the veggie with a carnivore’s disinterest. Even though she claimed to not be a picky eater, Angell had her preferences. Just like a wiped husband, Angell sucked it up because Chief had made it. Angell, Chief violently chopped the bundled vegetables in half with her kitchen knife.

Unintentionally, making Cinnabar jump as the other woman was in charge of boiling and mashing up the potatoes. The poor sinner gazing at her with a raised brow, but Chief wasn’t paying any attention to her.

Chief sighed as her mind dragged her back to Angell. She didn’t want to think about her anymore and yet she forced herself to suffer this unyielding humiliation over and over again. She wanted to forget. To revert back to the Chief that hadn’t spent 3 weeks inside Angell’s apartment.

“Chief,” Cinnabar stood behind her. Her sturdy hand being placed right above Chief’s to stop her from abusing the asperges, “I… I know it’s not my place to ask, but I’m worried. We’re worried, are you truly alright?” The knife slipping out of her grasp with their hands resting on the cutting board. The prolonged contact being a show of commitment from Cinnabar as Chief turned her head to find Cinnabar standing right behind her.

“I’m fine. Just tired,” she returned her sight back to their hands. Unable to deny how much she had missed the physical touch of another.

“Then you should be resting. Not breaking objects for hours each day.”

And there it was, “I have a lot of pent-up energy,” Chief wishing the other would have just let her be.

Cinnabar scuffled at her lie, “First your tired and now you’re not? Chief, be honest with me,” and Chief felt her hands unintentionally tighten into fists, her back tensing as Cinnabar had the privacy to ask, “When you were being held hostage, did… did that woman do anything to you?”

Chief didn’t dare to speak.

From out in the dinning hall, Wendy was setting up for the five members. Her actions and humming told those around her that she was in her own little world, but her ears were listening. She wiped off the table with a rag, doing circles in the same spot as she waited for Chief’s answer. From the kitchen’s side door, Hecate and Hella hid to hear Chief’s answer having arrived just in time.

“I told you guys already. She didn’t do anything,” Chief’s voice coming out in an involuntary whisper, “Really. I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine,” Cinnabar pushed on. Lightly grabbing Chief’s shoulder to turn her around, so they could face each other properly. Her warmth gone just like Angell, “It’s just us right now. You can be honest, please tell me what she did to you.”

Staring into those clear violet eyes, Chief felt gagged to remained silent. Cinnabar looked at her with so much respect, love, and admiration that one could expect from their subordinate. Unlike Angell’s that looked upon her like a normal woman. It felt sinful to betray Cinnabar’s expectations. How was Chief supposed to admit that she had given herself completely to Angell? Even worse, that she had asked Angell to hide her away?

She felt like such an idiot now.

Taking a step back, Chief found herself pressing against the prepping counter’s edge, “She didn’t do anything. I… I just…” Her words caught in her throat, she couldn’t even come up with a good lie, “I wanted to bring her in. To give her a better life. So, when she betrayed me, I got mad.”

“Plenty of sinners have betrayed you before, why are you letting this one effect you so badly?”

Chief felt the stung of her brutal questioning, her face twisting in a mixture of complicated pain. And as if sensing she had overstepped, Cinnabar didn’t hesitate to make things right.

“Don’t,” Chief wouldn’t let Cinnabar apologize, “I’m sorry. I know you’re just worried,” Chief sighed, “Really… I don’t even know myself why I can’t let her go.”

“You have nothing to apologize for, I shouldn’t have forced you to say anything if you weren’t ready to talk,” Cinnabar leaned in unintentionally, “Chief… I really do care about you. I… I want you to depend on me.”

Those weren’t the words Chief needed to hear as she pushed Cinnabar away, “Come on, do you want to eat stake or do you just want to listen to my ramblings all night?” She tried to change the topic.

Their conversation was over, but Cinnabar didn’t want to yield to her yet. Luckily, Hella and Hecate entered the kitchen, “Chief, I brought our precious little artist,” she had her arm around Hecate’s shoulders as she came in overly brutish, “Now where’s your food? I want to see whether or not you really can cook.”

“Of course, Chief can cook,” Hecate defended her honor, “Chief isn’t a liar. If she says she can, then she can.”

“I’m glad someone believes in me,” Chief’s words were directed towards Hecate’s comment, yet Cinnabar misinterpreted them to refer to their previous discussion.

“Right,” Cinnabar gave Chief a defeated smile, “I should trust in Chief more.”

Sensing the self-crimination, Chief had no choice but to pinch her cheeks to stop her from jumping into unnecessary conclusions, “I thought you came in here to help me?” Chief reminded her, “You helped enough, now I need those potatoes mashed up.”

Cinnabar nodded, holding Chief’s hand against her cheeks, “Alright. I’m here to help you with anything you ask of me after all.”

It was a daring vow to protect her. A frightening thing for Chief since she could have sworn, she noticed an intense shimmer of a lover’s devotion in Cinnabar’s eyes. She snatched her hand back, turning around, and abusing the asperges again. Convincing herself that she had merely imagined it.

Believing that her loneliness was distorting her reality, “Good.”

Dinner finished with a surprisingly lighter tone as the astonished sinners bowed down to Chief’s cooking. Hella and Wendy gasping and jabbering on about how great Chief’s meal turned out, while Hecate proudly nodded along in agreement. Even Cinnabar couldn’t help compliment her talent as they all demanded seconds. Chief didn’t mind, she felt herself enjoying the commotion.

It reminded her of those days within that small kitchen when Angell would request another bowl.

Pushing that memory deep inside, Chief was happy to give her sinners as much extra servings that they demanded. Laughing as Wendy threatened to gloat to the rest of the yard in the morning about eating Chief’s homemade food. Hella adding to the chaos by saving some for later. She wanted to eat it in front of EMP to make the poor girl suffer, since Chief’s cooking would most definitely be a rare commodity around MBCC.

At such a remark, Chief made a mental note to dedicate one day within the month to cook for everyone. Afterall, she couldn’t have the rest of the sinners rioting just because Wendy and Hella wanted to show off their superiority.

Eventually this homely dinner came to an end. The five calling it a night as everyone returned to their rooms after wishing each other good dreams. Chief was grateful no one followed her back as she hummed with festive cheer left over from their dinner. It wasn’t until she reached her designated room in the MBCC, that she felt it all drain out of her.

She was alone again.

Of course, she’d be alone in her room. It would have been more concerning if someone was waiting for her.

Moving along her room with foreign belonging, Chief decided a shower would settle her nerves. Agitated with herself for feeling estrange in her own bedroom, Chief tried masking this muddling sternness with affirmations. Imploring to herself that this was her life and this was her room. She made sure the water raining down on her was extra hot to imprint this lesson into her limbs.

She was the Chief of MBCC, she had sinners to watch after, citizens to protect: She was an essential figurehead with grave responsibilities.

“You’re just a woman,” Angell’s imaginary voice cued.

Drying off, Chief placed on her pajamas that was a simple t-shirt and shorts. She stared at her large twin bed as though it’s plain sheets and pillows were composed of razor-sharp cotton. Compared to Angell’s cozy clutter that brimmed the space with personality, it made her own grey bed repulsive.

“This is ridiculous!” Chief grabbed her neatly made covers and tossed it aside. Messing up her bed to get rid of all professionalism imbedded in its folds, “This is my bed! This is my room!” she spoke as though it was a mantra that would awaken her from her distressing feelings, “Angell is a stranger!! She doesn’t care about me! I was only a job!! This is my home! Everyone here cares about me!! I don’t need your ugly face reminding me of useless things!!” She tossed her pillows and pushed the blanket toward the headboard.

Her bed ruined. Now the disheveled layers becoming a glimpse of its owners own heart.

She had made a mess for nothing, Chief sighed collapsing in the middle of her bed vertically. Closing her eyes, legs hanging off the edge, she covered her lids with her arm for extra measures. She was determined to sleep in such an awkward position since slumbering correctly would only make her feel more restless.

It took forever for Chief to find sleep. And when she finally did succumb to her dreams, Chief exposed herself to her truest desire.

Chief had landed where she desperately wished to returned: Her dream consciousness materializing her within the toasty fabrics of a bed she long to nest in. The soft recording of Angell’s record player playing in the distance with it’s co-partner, the humidifier, humming along in activation.

She kept her eyes shut, basking her face within the soft pair of breasts she’d long to touch. Shivers running down her spine as fingers combed through her hair, while another arm circled around her waist securing her close.

Chief didn’t dare to look at her partners face. Not even in a dream would she let herself unwind from the weight of their decisions.

“Good morning,” Dream Angell’s spoke with a smile in her tone. The assassin moving far enough to give Chief a kiss on her forehead, “Sleep well?”

No.

Chief bit back a wave of sadness that could have led her to tears. She hasn’t slept well since her return to MBCC, but there was no point in telling this delusion, “Yeah, did you?” Chief played along, undeniably being starved of her presence.

Forgive me, Chief thought as she let her hands drift along Angell’s back. Diving her face back into her chest with prayers that she’d become real if she just yearned hard enough.

“I did. I’ve been sleeping well since you arrived Chief,” Angell reciprocated her touch. Resting her head above Chief’s to snuggle and maybe go back to sleep.

Her dream feeding her wounded heart with a harmful reality, “I’m glad,” her voice croaking at the tenderness she would never feel again. A room, their bed, her radiating heat, all gone and never to be experienced again, “I’m really glad,” she could no longer fight it, her tears pricking the edge of her eyes as she desperately imprinted Angell’s body onto her own.

Angell allowed her to sob into her. Holding Chief tightly as she kissed the top of her head, “I won’t let anything hurt you,” she coddled.

“Liar,” Chief breathed.

Entangled within the sheets, Angell gave a soft scuffle, “How can I ever lie to you? I love you, Chief.”

Those words were enough to snap Chief awake. Back on her bed, she processed what had happened. It was a dream; she was indeed still in that awkward position she’d laid herself in the night before, still alone.

Chief couldn’t help but laugh. Finding it hilarious that Angell’s expression of love was frightening enough to wake her up. Her tears that continued to flow being the sole evidence of their owner’s punctured heart.

Chapter Text

The wait to finally meet with the MBCC’s Chief had been so long, Angell couldn’t even remember being processed and booked. In fact, she couldn’t even recall the halls nor the personas who had settled her within the interrogation room.

She merely gazed up bored towards the singular buzzing white light bulb overhead. The lighting purposely blaring down at her with psyche intentions of causing an impulsive confession. Unfortunately, Angell had years of Syndicates finest desensitization to thank for its ineffectiveness. In fact, Angell thought it was tactless along with the metallic greys that gloomed the area.

Out of everything she had experienced becoming a new sinner of the MBCC, Angell quietly enjoyed the designated red jumpsuit marking her an S-rank Sinner. Her style was normally black, but she couldn’t help but wonder if Chief would like the splash of crimson on her.

The thought of Chief ignited the start of fluttering butterflies at the pit of her stomach. She wondered if the other was doing well and if her silent prayers had kept Chief healthy. It had been so long since they’ve last seen each other and regardless of how much she wished for Chief’s wellbeing, Angell was convinced that Chief was suffering equal to or worse than her. Afterall, Angell lamented the method they had parted ways and she could only imagine how Chief would have felt being caught up in her necessary betrayal.

A small part of her wishing that Chief was doing worse upon her absence, but she didn’t dwell on that twisted thought.

Believing that her woman would have many questions, Angell figured she should get her story straight. Afterall, she had abandoned Chief with absolute determination to keep her safe among the shadows. Chief probably already knew that much given her letter, but what if… Chief hadn’t read it?

She went over that day multiple times in her head: Assuring herself that she did leave a letter on the kitchen table using the vase as weight to keep it from flying away. There was no way Chief hadn’t read it, she touched her bottom lip in thought. The letter had to have been taken given the missing item upon her return, plus the apartment had been left clean.

At last, she was put out of her misery when the door to the interrogation room opened and Chief’s heels announced her arrival.

Angell straighten up quickly, while Chief settled her belongings on one of the side tables. Her eyes refusing to look at Angell as she organized the files required to proceed this enquiring. Chief’s sliver orbs at last feeding into Angell’s glowing topaz with committed prowess.

‘Beautiful,’ Angell watched this commanding woman work with unyielding admiration that held no limits.

“You look healthy,” Chief seemed to be struggling with her own mental demons. Taking a deep breath as she kept her voice monotoned, but there was no lying to Angell’s sensitive observation, “I’m glad,” Chief had obviously missed her. At least, that’s what she hoped it sounded like.

It was unquestionable that Chief still cared. Ultimately, Angell’s wellbeing had weighted heavily on Chief’s mind upon other issues that clouded her judgement after her return to the MBCC. Angell’s health report reassuring the MBCC director that Angell would always be fine. Alone or not. A sentiment that also nurtured the seed of irrelevance since Chief’s existence had no influence on the assassin’s lifestyle.

Mistaking her soft-spoken concern for a possible forgiveness, Angell leaped to her feet. Arms stretched out with full intentions of hugging the woman at last, but was stopped by a firm palm extending to her chest.

“Sit down, Angell.”

Her sudden switch up, confusing Angell as she stood her ground, “We’ve been away from each other for what seems like an eternity,” She argued her case as if Chief could also read her mind, ‘Didn’t you miss me?’

Chief’s face strained to remain poise for a woman of her ranking, “I have a job to do. You should understand more than anyone.”

Angell awed at the statement. Thinking it over again to conclude: Chief was mad, “Alright. Ask away,” she flopped back in her seat with wounded pride.

If there was anything Chief could always count on, it was Angell’s professionalism. With boundaries drawn, the interview went on with major success. Angell taking this opportunity to provide Chief with as much information to clear up this case and her own actions.

Angry Chief aside, Angell took great joy watching the other woman investigate. She had only experienced Chief’s personality in a casual fashion. She’d even dare say it was Chief’s true self that had stayed in that apartment with her for three weeks. It was a no brainer that she’d preferred it, but discovering corporate Chief was another flavor she didn’t mind tasting. A switch flipping inside her mind as she envisioned this stern woman commanding others, commanding her.

Catching Chief’s stern eyes as she blabbed about some gangs, Angell fought back the shivers tickling her forearm. She wouldn’t mind receiving orders from her, quiet enjoying her serious side a bit too much as she faked listening.

Though with this new persona, came a troubling question: Was Angell the first woman to see Chief’s softer side? It finally struck her that there could have been other sinners, other people who Chief lowered her guard for within this organization. Angell childishly pushed it aside. Once again believing that such a complicated character like Chief was reserved for Angell and Angell alone.

“This concludes our interrogation,” Chief took a deep breath after completing the hardest part. Now all she had to do was say goodbye. Having long since made up her mind to give Angell her well-deserved space, “I’ll send someone to take you to your assigned room.”

“Hold on,” Angell didn’t sit through this interrogation just to get a free room. Standing in Chief’s way, she prevented her from leaving. The cameras were off, always have been, granting the duo privacy to face off, “I played your game. It’s your turn to listen to me.”

“There is nothing to talk about, Angell. I’m your Chief and you’re now a sinner working for the MBCC.”

“Hah, that means nothing to me. If I wanted to, I could just leave and no one would be able to stop me.”

Chief began to hyper focus on the floor, her brows frowning at the threat. It was true, Angell spoke no lies and yet Chief felt a kiddish desire to fight against her, “Then go, why are you even here for?”

“For you,” Angell felt hurt that Chief would even ask. Her hands going to hold her biceps, to feel her warmth upon her aching palms, but thought against it. Tightening her fist along her side when she recalled that there was a possibility Chief hadn’t read her note, “Chief, did you get a chance to read my letter?”

“I did.”

“Then why are you mad?” Angell couldn’t take it any longer. Irritated that Chief wouldn’t meet her gaze or acknowledge her affections. Acting on this desperation, she lifted Chief’s chin with intentions of forcing their eyes to meet in hopes it would trigger an honest response.

“Who wouldn’t be?!” Chief couldn’t handle observing the hurt caught within those almond eyes. She slapped Angell’s hand away and retreated toward the other side of the interrogation room, “You dumped me at the MBCC with nothing more than a cruel rejection. I thought I meant nothing to you,” Chief coming to rest her weight over an empty table, “I cried so hard over it. Feeling stupid that I was worrying over you and for what? For you to drive me further insane over your confession??” Chief leaned against the table, her nails hurting the centers of her palms from the sheer grip.

Angell couldn’t help smiling at her sincerity as she excitingly approached the hunched over woman, “You worried about me?” and Chief shot her a glare that held Angell in place.

Sighing at the mess Angell stirred in her, Chief held her head. Turning back to face Angell with tiring patience, “I read your letter and I’m choosing to respect your choice. I don’t want to interact with you anymore than is necessary.”

Her last sentences failing to register in Angell’s mind. The assassin ignoring it all to catch Chief in her arms. Taking the woman by surprise as Angell held her: Her right-hand burring Chief’s head against her shoulder with her left arm roping around her waist. The scent of Chief easing Angell’s heart as she nuzzled Chief’s hair, “I’m glad I never left your mind.”

“Stop!” Chief inefficiently trying to pull away, but she was no match for a sinner’s strength. Never mind, she was losing her resolve, “Let go of me!”

“I won’t,” Angell’s eyes alive with renewed passion. Taking a good look at the confused flare upon Chief’s face as she leaned in, “I won’t let you go again,” her words drifting within the closing gap of lips before they met at last.

It was electrifying.

More than they could have imagined as the passage of time had only driven them into a depravity that could not be quenched by anyone or thing. Better judgement thrown out the door as Chief parted her lips to soothe her tongue that had missed its amour.

Angell taking the invitation with no reservation as they urgently clung to one another. Too long had she spent days reminiscing Chief’s touch, her warmth, her laugh, her nags, and worst of all her cries of pleasure.

Suddenly it was like they were back inside Angell’s safehouse. Angell having return late from one of her gigs as Chief ambushed her at the door. Fear and anxiety being the paddle to stir quick relief between them, but this was different.

Angell was determined to drown within the curves that belong to Chief. Her hums of delight ringing out and stimulating Chief’s ears as she gasped for air. Angell letting her take a few gulps before reoccupying her mouth.

Those lips were hers. Angell confidently claimed.

Salava escaping Chief’s corners as she jolted against Angell at the sudden hand that began to untuck her button shirt. Chief, overwhelmed by it all, could only address one thing at a time. Deciding to aid her burning lungs by turning her head away for air. Her deep raspy heaves only encouraged Angell to divert her attention to her ear.

Angell’s breath tickling flesh as she fluttered kisses along the back of Chief’s earlobes before sucking the delicate skin. Dragging her kisses along the croak of Chief’s neck, while her right-hand burrowed pass her black undershirt to touch her bare waist.

“Stop!!” Chief exasperated, pushing Angell away with surprisingly firm strength, “We can’t do this. I can’t let you do this,” She gasped, leaning back against the table for support.

“I don’t understand,” Angell had been forced to take a step back, her breathing heavy. Standing only an arm’s length away from the woman who drove her frantic.

“I’m the Chief of the MBCC,” Chief fixed her hair, her mind maddening with impulse and ethical decisions, “What happen in your apartment… it was a relapse of judgement. You should understand, since I was just another job to you.”

“I already told you; my letter explains-.”

But Chief shook her head, taking a determined stance, “I can’t! You said it yourself; we belong to two separate worlds. If I let you drag me back… How am I supposed to accept the day we evidently part ways?”

“Chief,” Angell didn’t know how to answer. It was true, everything she wrote on that letter was what she believed, and yet she selfishly wanted to take it back. If it meant one more day with Chief, Angell would go back on her word, “I should have done things better. I see that now, but,” only ever displaying tenderness with Chief, stroking Chief’s cheek with permission to go on, “I miss you.”

There was no willpower left in Chief to continue pretending as if she could ever stop what was between them. Chief didn’t have it in herself to continue to penalize Angell for a selfless act the poor sinner thought was the only honorable option for someone of her distinct background.

Angell watched as Chief grabbed her hand, kissing her palm before blooming into a forgiving smile, “I… I miss you too.”

At long last, their attraction was mutual. Angell wasted no time to relish her again, her lips claiming her with unhinged addiction. Finding contentment in having Chief’s arms flying around her neck to drag her deeper.

Angell spring into necessary action as she lifted Chief onto the table. Seating her for a few seconds before pushing her down on her back. Chief’s sudden yelp only brought Angell delight as the sinner hurriedly removed her red coat, rolling off her top with feverish speed, to expose her black bra. A seductive smile on her face the whole time as she straddled Chief’s waist between her legs, tugging Chief’s clothes to be removed.

Swallowing hard, Chief tried to do the same. Starting with unbuttoning her shirt, but being under Angell’s intense gaze made her clumsily slower.

Angell smirked at the reaction, “I can’t wait any longer, Chief,” and she gripped both sides of the cloth to mercilessly rip open her collared shirt.

“Angell!” Chief complained, but the excitement it brewed weakened any real protest, “At least let me take off my undershirt.”

With her leather holster and ripped collared shirt flung to the ground, Chief began to pull her undershirt over her head. The act interrupted by Angell, who took hold of the fabric and used the long sleeve shirt as restrains for Chief’s hands. Pulling Chief’s arms above her head to get a clear view of Chief’s own navy-blue bra.

Licking her lips, Angell held Chief trapped below her. Getting into a comfortable position, with one hand restraining Chief, Angell gave those flushed mounts the attention they deserved. Letting her knees carry her weight, Angell push the padded material over Chief’s boobs to set them free, “They haven’t changed one bit,” Angell adorned the tops of her breast with loving pecks.

Chief squirmed with every touch, her body no longer familiar with Angell, “What are you talking about?” she managed to pipe out as Angell began to massage them.

Happy to take one of her nipples in her mouth to play, while her right undid the hooks behind Chief’s bra. Pushing Chief’s bra upward to add to another layer of restrains along Chief’s wrist, “I was concern,” Angell suckled before leaving her mark tersely at the edge of her areola, “Worried, that you might have let somebody else take them.”

Chief closed her eyes, focusing on the heated suckles bruising her chest, “You must have hit your head… Who else would I do this with?” Angell climbing back to Chief’s face. Taking in the lustful half gaze spared through pleading heat. Bestowing upon her another kiss as a reward for her celibacy.

“Yeah,” She sighed blissfully. Her right-hand straying to Chief’s belt with masterful unbuckling, her pants zipper undone releasing their hold around Chief’s waist.

Tracing the burning core with testing swirls, Angell watched as Chief gasped into an involuntary buckle. Her arms desperate to grab onto Angell, yet cruelly held in place. Her whimpered whines growing with volume as fingers trickled under Chief’s waistband, pushing between her thighs to brush at her scorching center.

“Angell… enough,” Chief’s eyes prickled with tears as she begged for release.

“Understood,” Angell nuzzled her face against the croak of her neck, taking in Chief’s lovely scent as she finally let Chief go in favor of digging her free hand into the back of Chief’s shoulder blades. Holding Chief tightly as she worked the aching core radiating for her uninterrupted attention.

Chief abandoned the cloth cuffs to embrace Angell, dragging the taller woman further into her with frictional need. The black bra pulled away to allow their breast to meet with itching relief. Eyes shut tightly as Angell thumbed her swelling flower bud, her long fingers rubbing her pulsing entrance with teasing mischief. Chief didn’t have time to exhale another complaint before Angell edged her first two fingers into Chief. Air hissing through Chief’s clenched teeth as Angell entered her completely.

Fingers pumping within her lubricated folds slowly with testing pace as Chief dug her nails deep into Angell’s back. Needing her to extinguish the prickling throbs that demanded Angell to quicken her pace, Chief swayed her hips with determined valor to convey her message.

Angell relish in it, peering over to see Chief’s brows wrinkled with impatient lust as their body’s swayed against each other, “Let me hear it.”

Chief hiding herself upon Angell’s shoulder. Her rationality slipping away with each antagonizing thrust that only quickened when she took command. Angell curving her tips promising unmatched relieve if Chief would admit she wanted Angell fast and hard.

“Chief,” Angell taken by her own growing arousal as Chief continued to use her fingers on her own. Unable to look away as Chief arched, buckled, and rolled her hips in fighting accordance to the two digits being clamped inside her.

Chief screaming her clumsy finish as nails chafed Angell’s skin. Chief holding her with trembling support as she quivered from the sudden climax.

Every cell in her body thrown into a chaotic skirmish that Chief had done it all on her own, “Fuck,” she couldn’t let her. Angell wanted to be the only soul responsible for making Chief cum.

…

Angell awoke with a startled gasp as her hands constricted nothing. Confusion and discomfort in the form of her lower half made things harder to understand as she looked around for Chief.

The woman in question was sitting beside her.

Reading a book before she caught sight of Angell regaining consciousness, “Hey, how are you feeling?”

Angell instead gave her a few blinks as Chief sighed into a smile.

“What’s the last thing you remember?”

Angell tried to sit up, but found her vision would spin by the simple action. Chief coming to her aid to help her settle within the infirmary bed, “Being… with you,” she said not knowing if she had dreamt being with Chief or not.

“Good, so you do remember collapsing in the alley,” Chief corrected, “Really? What were you thinking starving yourself to such a point?”

“Alley?” And it hit her. That’s right, she had been laying on her back within the narrow alleys of Syndicate.

“Yeah,” Chief helped her, “I found you in an alley and brought you back to the MBCC, I hope you don’t mind.”

Angel was beyond disappointed. Feeling light headed, Angell grabbed her head. Hoping she would wake up back on top of Chief.

“Take it easy,” Chief held her shoulders to stabilize her wobbling body, “When you feel up to it, we can head to the cafeteria. My treat.”

Merely nodding, Angell settled into her reality.

Force to come to terms that it was all a dream.