[tuscany] gun. [tag; blake]

there is no other way, never run far away
take a good swing at me and everything is even
so finally, we agree, no place for promises here.

It was wine o'clock.

The click-clack of designer heels echoed off the cool stone walls as a tall brunette strode down the fancy hallway. The house was large but she covered ground quickly. Jogging down the wide steps from her office, she cut across the wide expanse of grounds that were lined with traditional cypress trees. Running in heels was Assassin 101 so walking over gravel and through grass was a walk in the park. Literally.

It was a sultry summer's afternoon and the Tuscan sun was hot and high in the middle off a cloudless blue sky. The smell of fresh citrus fruits from the limonaia caught on the breeze, tangling up with her expensive rose scented perfume and the fresh smell from the gardenias which were climbing up the front of the house and in full bloom. It'd be gorgeous, if she was at all interested in nature.

Her long dark curls were tied back into a ponytail, her olive skin now a shade or two darker from her recent holiday in Portofino. Well, she said "holiday" but she had a couple of errands to run. Sofia hadn't minded going. Despite being based in Milan, she was unable to shake her country girl heart. Born in the Umbrian hills, there was something fabulous about a quaint little fishing village when no one knew your name.

Dressed in her traditional black, the cool air of the main house was refreshing as she wandered down the marble hallway. The place was vast and it had to be. There was an armoury, a gym, eight bedrooms and a potions laboratory. Oh and a swimming pool outside.

With a yawn, she ruffled her hair. It was after six in the evening and as far as she was aware, the base was fairly empty. Her grandfather was at home. The staff were out, she presumed. It was also common for them not to cross paths unless she pulled rank. It was futile, sometimes. They were skilled but they were just arrogant. Reece, the weapons expert, was more of a strong and silent type. And Blake? Sofia gritted her teeth as her long bare legs sped up, taking a left and then a right and slowly descending the fabulous stone staircase.

He considered him French but he wasn't. He was a dim witted, overly confident English plebeian. He wasn't the perfect gentleman. Oh he was hot but he was dangerous. They clashed. Maybe it was banter but it was just thinly veiled anger on her part. Taking a breath, she shook herself as she entered the cool room. The Rossellini family had been making wine for years. Sofia had grown up with it. She was very knowledgeable. Her grandfather collected bottles and they were all lined up, on show in the cellar.

Not sure what she was in the mood for, she perused the bottles, her fingers gently touching the labels as she walked. This was her secret place. Cold, quiet and rarely used, it was one of the very few places she tended to be left alone. She closed her eyes and breathed in. Relaxed and calm, she picked a bottle off the shelf and deftly uncorked it, pouring a measure of the deep burgundy coloured liquid into a glass. Sofia was strictly a red kind of girl. Anyone who ordered rose wine was swiftly punched in the throat and told never to return.

Oh dear.

The hairs on the back of her neck prickled. There was silence but she knew that was how he tended to operate. Like a ghost or smoke, he reappeared and vanished just as quickly. Heaving a sigh, she rolled her big chocolate coloured eyes and held out her lipstick stained glass to an unseen figure. "Don't you ever knock?" She grumbled.

Thud

The book met the table with a soft sound that seemed to echo in the empty space around him. Green eyes washed over the room once more before taking his seat. There was always time for a good book, well research that was. Apparently bad people could have published books too. Pursed lips, brow risen Blake opened the cover and stared down at the words for a long moment. He reached out for his pad to check his notes. hmmmmm. A quick glance at his watch and he was up from his seat heading to the door. He wouldn't bore himself with reading, no he would go out and get to know the man. Striking up a few random conversations was far more entertaining then reading.

Pausing he listened to the sound of fast moving high heels make their way passed the closed door and down the hall. The door was opened gently as he took a quick glance towards the fading sound. Sofia. Where was she off to in such a rush? Quickly all plans of recon had been forgotten as he slipped from the room to silently make his way down the hall. He followed her path without much effort, the sound of her feet pointing him in the right direction. Maybe he should have gone and done a bit of work, but never would he pass up a chance to bother her. Never. When he moved it was as if he glided over the air, his steps were just that light. It was his job to get places without being seen or heard to gather the best intel there was to gather.

Hands sliding in his pockets he made his way down the stone steps, drifting closer to the wall to stay hidden within the shadows. Clad in all black nearly ninety percent of the day, Blake has learned to blend into his surroundings. Finding the shadows in the room even when it seems impossible.  The smile crossed his face as he stepped forward to take the glass from her. "Now tell me where is the fun in that?" He enjoyed being able to be in a space and hear what he wasn't supposed to, though hearing what he needed was the best. "I was on the way out to uh..." He leaned a bit to smell the wine in the glass before taking a sip with a slight nod it was held out to her. "..gather a bit of information...When I hear this little pitter patter of fast moving feet." He moved his head and a raised hand as if conducting an orchestra as he spoke. "And just who was seen hurrying off?"

He moved to look at the labels of the bottles as he chuckled slightly. "Just my favorite assassin." Peeking through the shelf he gave her a goofy grin. "I call that luck of the draw, love. So tell me Miss. Pitter Patter, why the rush?" Swiftly he pulled a bottle from a shelf and walked back around to stand next to her. "I have a few theories, but I'd like to think their wrong."  His body shifted to grab his own glass amongst the unused. Resting the bottle he had pluck from the shelf next to him he took a bit from the bottle she had already opened, it tasted rather good. "How about this? We grab a couple bottle of good wine, go upstairs have a seat and talk about whatever. I dreadfully admit that your help is needed with a bit of work." He frowned as he said this, taking her bottle and the one next to him as he moved to go back up the stairs.

"You should grab another bottle, we're going to need it." His voice rang out as he found himself a seat, resting the bottles on the table next to him. It was nice to actually be sitting. His glass was sat down, shoulders rolled as he sighed softly. Oh, he didn't plan to drink but it was always nice to present the illusion, wasn't it?

Sofia frowned. She liked Blake well enough, she supposed, but he had an inflated sense of self. A misguided measure of self worth but that wasn't why he annoyed her. He was extraordinarily handsome but he knew it and that was what irked her. She moved away from him swiftly, eager to put a bit of space between her and the ghost. Delicately, she poured another glass. Expertly, she held it up to the sunlight, swirling the blood red liquid around the glass and she sighed.

It was too pale. No one but a fully trained and experienced sommelier would be able to tell but that wasn't the point. Last year had been spectacularly wet. The Umbrian hills had received a deluge. The result was the washing out of vital nutrients for the plants and a weakening of the roots, causing smaller, weaker tasting grapes. The result wasn't the full-bodied, deeply rich and velvety flavour the family were known for.

"Hm," Sofia said flatly, clearly letting him know she didn't believe him. She took a small sip of the wine to prevent herself from saying anything else on the matter.

"No idea," she said as she spun around to face him. "The Easter Bunny?" The Italian asked with a serene smile. She laughed into the rim of her glass. "I'm more back office these days," she informed him as her long and slender legs continued to walk, her slim fingers absently running across the bottles stacked so neatly. That much was true. She hadn't killed anyone in months. There was just so much paper work that needed to be taken care of. Dodgy midnight deals, bank heists, illegal objects. There was just no time for a bloody good murder.

The shitty little nickname earned Blake a dark look. "I was trying to put as much distance between you and I as possible," she replied smoothly, finding her hackles already raised. He was very…dickish, for lack of a better word. Plus he sounded strange. Born English but raised French, his words had the strange Gallic twang. He rolled certain letters, cut short words, missed off the letter T. He was an odd thing to witness, really.

Love? Sofia almost balked. Love. She'd been called plenty of things in her life; sweetheart, princess, sugar tits, peaches. Her favourite was the time someone referred to her as the Devil. She was pleased but "love" was on the very bottom of her list. Visibly bristling, she squared her shoulders and cleared her throat. "Talk about whatever?" Sofia scoffed, shaking her head so her glossy dark curls caught the light and glittered. "Would it be rude if I said I'd rather walk across hot coals?"

Feeling rage bubble in the pit of her stomach, she sucked in her breath and held it as Blake casually picked up some bottles. Bastard. Just because he was employed here, did  not give him the right to help himself. Feeling as though it might be better to keep an eye on him, she begrudgingly did what she was told, picked up a bottle and stomped up the stairs to follow him.

With every step she took, she cursed his name. A string of broken but colourful Italian words escaped her full scarlet lips. She paused before she reached the top step, taking a second to compose herself. She exhaled, moving her hair out of her eyes so it fell just-so. She'd be damned before she let him know he annoyed her. Flashing him a winning smile, she sat down. All prim and ladylike with her legs crossed at the knee, she pulled down the hem of her skirt to sit a little more modestly.

"So what were these theories?" She asked, pouring herself another glass and deliberately not refilling his. Arsehole. "Or did you need some advice?" She asked with a placid smile. "Your girlfriend sleeping with someone else?" She asked, offering a mocking frown as her full lower lip jutted out. "Poor baby," she cooed. "Have her killed."

He watched her as she took the seat on the other side of the small table. Green eyes ran along her body for a moment before coming to rest on her face. Flashing a smile he cleared his throat softly. "Well aren't we being very ladylike?" His head tilted to the side. "Proper length of the skirt as not to arouse subtle invitation." With this he stood to move about the space in front of them, eyes trained on her as he did. "Legs crossed at the knees and everything." He gave a surprised scuff as a hand was lifted to rest over his chest. "I have to tell you I'm impressed, truly."

"Oh you don't want to bore yourself with theories." His hand rose from his chest to wave off the talk of theories. Oh he would tell her, but why rush? His laugh was hearty as his head fell back. Sofia was a funny woman. He knew how to get under her skin and she knew how to get under his. Blake was cool-tempered. It helped with work knowing how to keep himself from reacting to certain events. Well there were events one simply ignored, but this one was not one of those. No, not one of those.

"Girlfriends are a bit of responsibility I don't think I'm equipped to deal with. I prefer my conquests....detachable." As of the moment Blake couldn't really see himself settled down with a woman. There would be time for that in his future, but at the peak of his life there was no room. "And if i did honor a woman with that role I doubt she would be cheating." As he spoke he moved to gracefully drop back into his seat. Shifting he poured himself a small glass of wine. "You cheat when the interest has left, when the fires died out or so i'm told but...thats not a possibility with me."

He paused, lifted his glass to his lips but never took a drink before speaking once more. "Tsk...tsk...tsk. Is someone bitter about being scorned in the past?" His voiced dropped as if he were talking to an upset child. "It's okay we can plan his demise." Resting his glass back down to the table, he shrugged voice back to normal. "Unless he's already dead. In that case my planning techniques are not needed."

All jokes aside he did need her help. He was good at what he did, but he was one man and he could only do so much. She had to know he exhausted every other possible way to get his job done. Not that Sofia wasn't extraordinary at what she did. It was just he wanted the credit where it was due and having help split that in half. "All jokes aside there is a business matter that I need your help with." He had been prepared to end one life, but it would seem two others lay in the balance. "I have a feeling the paperwork is boring you and good torture then kills is on your wish list."

"I'm always ladylike," Sofia replied, holding the glass to the light to examine the colour as she swirled it around her glass expertly. She blinked. "It's new season," she replied. "Midi lengths are in, unfortunately for you," she said with a tight smile. If he wanted short skirted women, he could go to the Crazy Horse Saloon or the Moulin Rouge.

She laughed. "Did you think I was inviting you?" She said with a slow grin, her eyes glittering. "I dress for myself, not for you or anyone else," she corrected him haughtily. "If you laid a hand on me, I'd break every single bone in said hand. Slowly," she replied, narrowing her eyes. "Painfully," she added, sipping at her wine and letting the blood red liquid slide over her tongue as she nodded. "Tell me," she began, head tilted to the left a little. "Do girls fall at your feet when you use this bravado?" Sofia asked, eyebrows arched. "If they knew you like I knew you, they'd be thoroughly repulsed."

Conquests? The word made her wince. "Congratulations on setting women's rights back five hundred years, you utter caveman," she added icily, pulling a face. Deep down, she did agree with him to a certain extent. Having a partner was collateral damage. They were a way to distract you, harm you, beat you. Sofia made the mistake once and she wasn't going to let her heart get in the way again. They couldn't have wives and husbands in their game. It was risky and it was not a good idea.

Sofia snorted. A hand came to her mouth to try and stop the wine spurting out of an orifice. "I'm bored with you already," the tall brunette said, her chocolate eyes wide in surprise. "Lord have mercy," she muttered, brushing back one of her glossy dark curls as she rolled her eyes Heavenward and shook her head. "How does that ego of yours not get yourself killed?" She blinked. There must be a mob of angry ex-boyfriends trying to hunt him down with pitchforks.

The playfulness of her tone dropped suddenly. Blake was playing with fire. Sofia's lovelife was…chequered to say the least. Her broken engagement to Lars, the entire mess with Mannie, the countless one night stands and dangerous liaisons in between. Folding her lips together so tightly, she smudged her perfectly applied scarlet lipstick and didn't reply.

"I'm not entirely sure I want to help you now," she replied sullenly as she sulked, folding her arms across her chest tightly as she turned her face away from him and stared resolutely at the various wine bottles. Sofia was a spoiled child. She was her grandfather's favourite and as such, she had this entire villa, his endless affection and a shit load of cash. It was just a shame that she was an overgrown petulant child.

"Do I get to torture you?" Sofia asked, perking up instantly. "You'd probably enjoy that though, right? Think it was some sort of foreplay?" She frowned thoughtfully. She rather enjoyed being tied down and the occasional flogging. Falling silent, her eyes trailed down his figure. He was handsome, sure. Broad shoulders, physically fit, strong hands that a girl wouldn't mind running up her thighs and --

Sofia coughed and stood suddenly. Leaning across the table, she took hold of the glass of wine Blake had poured for himself before downing the contents. She swiped the bottle and turned, climbing the steps that lead back up to the rest of the house. "Let's go to the orangery," she called behind her, her heels click-clacking as she wandered down one of the villa's many corridors. "Eyes on the floor, not on my arse," she instructed him. She very rarely walked side by side with a person. She liked the regal feeling of having people in her wake. "You can tell me all about this silly little plan of yours."

As he thought about it, it became clear that she was always ladylike. There had never been a time where he had to pause because he had been caught up short by something she wore. Nothing was ever overly revealing or too tight. When it came to dressing Sofia had a way about herself that the Frenchman never had room to complain. His lips pulled up into a smile as he stared at her for a moment. Women were so touchy when it came to their appearance. It was cute how they put so much into their look only to have to shed the layers at the end of each night. "Thank Merlin for the season change. Seriously, layers are confining." His shoulders rolled as he gave a shudder at the thought of winter layers.

His brow rose slightly as he listened to Sofia speak before his head tilted to the side. He felt like he should be offended but for some reason he was more amused than anything. His grin widened as he watched her before long fingers drummed along the arm of his chair. "Well, Ms. Rossellini I never ever mix business with pleasure. So, even if it was an invitation it would have been declined." There was no way he would taint his work relationship with a one night stand or a random drunken hook up. It was one of the many reasons why Blake didn't drink. He didn't want to give himself the chance to make a mistake he couldn't come back from.

His hand rose to be held out in front of him so he could examine his fingers as she threatened to cause them harm. "Well, now that isn't fair. What if I tap you? Or stumble and mistakenly use you to catch my balance?" His head shook as he gave a tsk before reaching up to fix his collar a bit. "Some girls, but I never visit them more than once. I like to seduce a woman..." He liked getting to know a woman by spending time with her. It was hard however considering the fact that most women knew him by an alias. It was hard to get to know someone when they didn't even know who he really was.

"All I'm saying is..." His hands rose as if trying to calm her "why put myself through the stress? The constant worry that somehow the backlash from a job would end with her dead. Nope, not even going to allow the possibility." he knew when he had signed on that having a life outside of his work would be something he could think about but would never happen. It was far too dangerous. That would be the only causality of his job that would haunt his dreams. "Half the time I don't even want to know the woman's name. I know that may sound bad but the less I know the better."

He knew it made him sound horrible but he had been there before. He had gotten close and in the middle of all the chaos and he had lost a piece of himself when she was killed. His brows pulled together as thoughts of that day raced through his mind. He would never make that mistake again. There was no more getting close. It was the only way to keep everyone safe and sane. He gave a chuckle as he shook his head. "Trust me many have tried but I think they underestimated me. Which proved fatal." He found it amusing when he could get a rise out of someone, even more when he was able to destroy someone in the process. It wasn't everyday he got be reckless just for the hell of it.

"Oh come on don't be that way." He knew everyone had a subject that was simply off limits, now he knew hers. Blake couldn't say he knew what it was like because he had never really allowed himself to fall for anyone. He didn't see the point in the promises when no one really knew what was in the future. People claimed that it was a beautiful thing, being in love, but all he saw when the bliss faded was confusion, anger and sadness. "I would have to say it depends on the form of torture." His grin was mischievous as the glint settled in his gaze.

He watched her as she finished his untouched drink before grabbing the bottle and walking away. Standing his hands slid into the pockets of his pants as he followed her up the stairs. His eyes drifted where she instructed them not to go and for a moment he smiled before looking over his shoulder. "I've run into a dilemma." His hand ran down the his chest as he spoke. It was rare that he was met with problems when he was sent to do a job so he was still a bit rattled by the fact.

"I've been shadowing someone...from what I was told it would be quick and simple. A one man job with little room for hiccups." Here he scoffed. "Well, I've found two that irritate me." His gaze shifted towards her as his hand returned back to his pocket, the sound of her shoes echoing around his silent steps. "I don't know if they are bodyguards...but they put a damper in my plan to handle this silently." His jaw clenched as he thought about how for nearly a week as he trailed the three men they were in each other's company most of the day.

"The best way to make this successful is to approach him in transit..." Blake was fond of poisons, he liked to slip in and out without having to wrinkle his clothes. "...now I need to come up with a new course of action and I was hoping you would help...of course with the planning and executing that is.." It was only fair. She was helping him out of a tight spot there was no reason she couldn't have fun too.