[Inferno] Clean me off, I'm so dirty babe [Sofia]

Inferno, at the Bar | December 2003

Work. Always interesting, sometimes fun, but never optional. Christoph hadn’t been working as much lately as he would’ve liked. He had, instead been planning a wedding. He had mostly been letting Leona and her mother take the reins on the wedding planning. He would show up and say the appropriate things when it was his time to, but other than that he couldn’t care much for it. This would be Leona’s only wedding, a very special day for her so he wanted to make sure it was exactly what she wanted—and with exactly the man she wanted him to be. He tried to be even more charming than usual around her lately, wanting to make up for the suffering she would likely endure before the year was out. He wanted to take his time, do things right, but he wanted to strike while the pain was still there. Too long between whips and the skin was no-longer sensitive. Too short, and the pain bled together. Milking the maximum amount of pain was an art, and Christoph was trained in this—he lived it, breathed it.

But not today. Today, he could have a good, clean, kill. He was looking forward to it a little bit, looking forward to something not-so-messy, not so drawn out as his usual interrogations.  Of course, he never really enjoyed a kill. Well, that was a lie. He frequently enjoyed it. It gave him a sick sort of satisfaction that he felt guilty over for days. Still, it was not the death that made him feel guilty—it was the fact that he had enjoyed it. He was supposed to be protecting someone, one is he friend Engel’s contacts. Despite the locale, it wasn’t actually Engel who hired him. In fact, his best friend didn’t even know Christoph was here, now. He was a regular in this establishment. Most contacts knew they could meet him here most nights, drinking on the house and helping himself to a quiet booth in the VIP area.  Today, though, he slid next to a beautiful woman at the bar.

She was familiar to him, and he was familiar to her. He precisely knew the reason she was here. He kept his target in his eye as he focused more on the woman next to him—Sofia Rossellini, an infamous assassin.  “Can I buy you a drink?” He asked her, in accented English. He would have liked to use Italian, but of course speaking the four languages he already spoke was hard enough on him, all other skills considered. He looked up and caught her eye, and wondered what game they would play today. Mr. and Mrs. Smith? Strangers? Cat-and-mouse? It was always something with Sofia, and that was one of the things that made him reluctant to kill her, despite knowing she was there to kill his target. He wondered how much she was getting paid, but it didn’t matter. He wouldn’t risk his reputation for her. He was better than this. She would not be killing her target today, and it was best she knew now rather than later. It would save Engel quite the scandal.

@Sofia Rossellini

He needed to do something.

Sofia was sat cross-legged on the bar stool, elbow on the bar and her chin resting on an upturned palm, her nails tapping on the wood as she stared. She'd been here for about twenty minutes, nursing a drink that she hadn't really wanted to order, but blending in wasn't really the objective. She let out a sigh as the chatter of the bar washed over her. It was dimly lit and moody, like all of the bars in this town tended to be lately. Sofia didn't know why they didn't understand that darkness did not equal atmosphere.

Someone slipping into the seat next to her made her flick her big dark eyes over to her left before she felt herself smile. "Oh, hello," Sofia said brightly. "Happy Christmas," she grinned, absently twirling a lock of dark hair around her finger. At the offer of a drink, she downed the one she had before swallowing. "A vodka soda, please," she said politely, turning in her seat so her knee brushed against Christoph's purposefully.

"Now," she told him, head tilted. "You're not here to ruin my fun, are you?" She asked him, her tone playful but he was smart enough to read between the lines. She looked at him closely. "You look good," she said with a smile as her long fingers pulled the glass towards her across the bar. "How's it going?" Sofia asked conversationally as she absently poked at an ice cube with the bottom of her straw. "Your fiancee well?" She grinned. "I'm assuming you're in the city to pick up some last minute presents for her."

Old friends, he supposed. That was the game they would be playing today. He didn’t remember ever telling Sofia about his fiancée, but of course she knew. She knew a lot of things about a lot of people. He was on her radar, so she knew things about him. Of course, he knew her well, too. He called over the bartender with a gentle smile. “A vodka soda for the lady?” He asked, and the bartender nodded at him, getting the drink ready out of sight. Unbeknownst to Sofia, Christoph had an arrangement with the bartender tonight. She wouldn’t know what hit her. 
 
He tipped the bartender when they brought her the drink, asking him to put it on his tab—his nonexistent tab, as he never paid for drinks here. It was a perk of knowing the owner. Engel wouldn’t miss a vodka soda for Sofia, however, so he didn’t feel bad—not that he really would either way. He listened to her carefully, reading between the lines. She wanted him to know she knew about his personal life. It was cute, really, that she thought he would mind. Let her target Leona if she liked—she wouldn’t get far. 
 
“Of course, wedding planning is going well.” He grinned. She poked at the drink but did not drink it, which annoyed him a little. “What brings you here, Ms. Rossellini?” He asked carefully. “I’m sure you’re waiting for a date. I shouldn’t keep you.” He teased a bit. “Alas, I don’t see him here, so perhaps my company will cheer you?” They had a rather flirtatious banter on a good day. In another life, he could see himself here with her on a date. Unfortunately for them both, that wasn’t in the cards. 
 
“You are dressed to kill.” He teased, complimenting the gorgeous brunette while at the same time explaining that he knew precisely why she was here. “Very nice.”