One Wild Night (Silas) {M}

[Jacaranda Mulciber]

Jac woke slowly. Her head was spinning before she opened her eyes and even when she did that, it didn’t help matters. She closed them again, holding onto the mattress as if it would keep her steady. She could feel a headache building, threatening to consume most of her head and making her eyes ache. She was fairly sure the first glimpse she’d had of the room had been imagined, and when she felt brave enough, she opened her eyes again.

Now that couldn’t be right. This wasn’t her room. The ceiling was high and decorated in subtle painted murals. In the centre of the ceiling was a chandelier which was not shy about boasting its grandeur size, ornately carves arms and overabundance of crystal pendants. The candles were still lit, and Jac squinted and grumbled at the light. She cast her eyes downward, taking in the antique dresser, its large mirror and the bouquet of flowers upon it. There were no personal effects on any of the surfaces she came across except the bedside table to her left where her wand lay.

She grabbed for it, propping herself up on he elbows to check the rest of the room. Her head didn’t appreciate the move but she could at least now see the bed she lay in and the floor. The bed was a monstrosity. If there was a size larger than queen, this was it. Who needed a bed this large? A look at the floor raised some more questions, and she peeked under the bed sheets. Sure enough, the clothes she should have been wearing were strewn all over the floor. All of them, with the exception of her pants. Where were they?

She scowled around the room a little until her abused eyes spotted a slip of pale blue fabric hanging from the chandelier. How the hell…? Jac wasn’t sure she wanted to know what had gone on here. The fact she couldn’t remember how she got here and the last thing she could remember was snuggling up to her boss suggested that Silas might have some answers. She was alone in the room, and she could hear nobody else. Was this Silas’s room? The lavish furnishings would explain what he spent a lot of his money on, but where was he?

Tentatively gathering the top sheet to the bed, she wrapped it about herself and shuffled across the huge room to a door. On the back of it was a plaque and instructions for room service. A bell-pull next to the door confirmed it. This was a hotel. A very expensive one. She hoped she hadn’t paid for it as she shuffled over to a second ajar door, the sheet trailing like a surreal bridal dress. Sure enough, the door led to an en-suit. No sign of Silas or Abraham there (whom she had just recalled had been around at the time where he memory faded out). Setting her wand on the cabinet next to the porcelain sunken sink, she cleaned up last night’s makeup, used the conveniences and poked around with the shower. She felt like crap, and she deserved the pampering the shower was offering.

Leaving the sheet on the bathroom floor, she stepped into the oversized cubical and started the water. The water started falling, a perfect temperature. She stood under the cascade for a fair while, letting the water talk away her aches and pains and most importantly the throbbing in her head. She wondered what sort of charms this godsend had on it – she was going to have to upgrade her shower at home. The slightly worrying mystery of her exact whereabouts and how she had got there slipped away with the water down the drain.

[Silas Rosier]

Well, one couldn’t exactly boast that last night had been all fun and games. Not thinking about it had proved to be the most effective solution, so Silas had kept himself satiated by doing just that. Yesterday’s sequence of events was in the past, and the past was irrelevant. What mattered was only the present, and the previous night’s impulsive endeavour to show up one Abraham Grey had instead provided him with a golden opportunity to mess with one Miss Jacaranda Mulciber. Silas’s first agenda for today was to merely add gasoline to the campfire.

Last night, instead of sticking around after it was all over, Silas had opted to go back home. He had only woken up about an hour ago, although a solid fifteen minutes of that time awake had been waiting for a surprise bout of sleep paralysis to wear off. A few drinks later, serving as an eye opener to get him functioning, and he was ready to test just how volatile a hung-over Jacaranda could get.

The reservation at the rather posh London wizarding hotel had been in Silas’s name; therefore it had only taken him a moment to be granted access back up. Hands in his suit pockets, Silas quickly made his way down the brightly lit beige hallway at a brisk pace until he arrived at the correct room marked with a gold plated 606. This was going to be an interesting start to the day.

The door didn’t even creak when he pushed it open, so he was able to step in without making a sound to survey the scene. The light from the hallway flooded into the opulent room, and the first thing that became obvious was Jac’s form missing from the colossal four-poster bed. Huh. Mixed blessing: it meant he didn’t have to wake her himself, although hopefully there’d be a way to talk her back onto it. Never mind, there was time for that. Couldn’t blame her for leaving the curtains closed either, if she had the kind of hangover he was expecting odds were too much light and she’d do a spot-on Dacian impersonation and combust.

He was saved from attempting to fathom her whereabouts by the sound of a shower starting in the en-suite bathroom. Silas’s head cocked to the left at the sound. Ah, so that’s where she’d ended up. He gave her a moment to get started and in the meantime decided to raid the minibar. Firewhiskey. Firewhiskey. Beer. Ergh, alcopop. Tequila. More fucking Firewhiskey? Scotch. Bingo: vodka. It was some sort of flavoured one after a magical plant, but he could live with that in the face of no alternative. Relieving the bottle of its cap and stepping over the crumpled remains of Jac’s shirt, Silas crossed over to the bathroom. Apparently a healthy bout of testing his luck was also in order for the day.

The door had been left ajar so he was saved the effort of having to open it quietly, instead just allowing it to swing it open without her noticing. Jac was facing away from him in one of the glass boxes that passed for shower-stalls nowadays. Condensation hadn’t yet built up enough to obscure his view so Silas took a minute to lean casually against the doorframe and allow his gaze to wander down as he knocked back a mouthful of alcohol. Had to give the hotel designers credit too, the shower looked large enough to comfortably fit more than two.

“Good morning,” he announced, smiling deviously after he’d had a moment. Silas had concluded that it might be more prudent to make himself known before she turned around and made things more awkward than they were bound to be already. Besides, Jac’s wand wasn’t in her hand and a fair way out of her immediate reach, which was the best time to spring surprises on her.

[Jacaranda Mulciber]

The fall of water around her obscured any noise until that simple ‘good morning’. With a very unladylike swear, she scrambled to turn the water off before looking hesitantly over her shoulder. She should have known it was him from the voice, but being snuck up on in the shower often did not lead to clear thinking. Silas may as well have cast a silencing spell for the affect his presence had on her. For once, which only magic could explain, Jacaranda Mulciber was speechless.

She stared for half a minute, until the warmth of the shower began to fade and she felt her skin rise in goose bumps. Clearing her throat, she stepped out of the cubical, keeping her back to her employer until she had a gigantic towel wrapped tightly around her that covered her from chest to knee. It salvaged what dignity she had left, if any, though if the state of her clothes were anything to go by there was really no point in trying. It might have just been the residue warmth from the shower, but her cheeks seemed more flushed than usual.

Morning then, was it? She really wouldn’t have known. She wondered how early in the morning, or how late. “Good morning, sir.” She appeared reluctant to look at him now, her gaze settling on her wand set on the counter equidistant between them. She should really be concerned at having a man – even one she knew – watching her shower uninvited but for all she knew, maybe he was. She plucked up a little courage. It wasn’t as if a naked party with Silas Rosier was not on her agenda, though she would have liked to have remembered it. She’d like to remember something about last night.

Jac’s eyes flickered to Silas’, her stomach melting a little at the remnants of that deviate smile – or was that the alcohol from last night dissolving her stomach? That suspicious rouge on her cheeks darkened a little, and she tucked back the sodden tresses of her hair away from her face. She was at a little bit of a loss as to what was expected of her. For him to make the first move would be helpful, though she supposed he had by walking into her hotel room unannounced and proceeding to watch her shower.

As awkward situations went, this was certainly a high-ranking one. At least Silas was not making any hints that he was unimpressed, so she decided whatever happened had not been too career-damaging. Jac managed to set her expression back to its normal hard mould, though not quite as fierce. She took a few steps toward her boss, and settled one hand next to the sink with her wand in easy reach. Her confidence returned twofold at that, and her other hand settled on her cocked hip.

“What exactly are you doing in my bathroom, Mister Rosier?” She asked, forgoing the questions that first came to mind such as ‘where the hell am I?’, ‘why the hell am I here?’ and ‘what in the name of he-who-must-not-be-named happened last night?’. Letting her employer know that she had exactly no clue what happened between them so far would be somewhat embarrassing. If it turned out – as she was highly suspecting – that she had indeed slept with Silas, she did not want to discourage a second round which she would actually remember. Without too much difficulty, she let her facial expression suggest what she was thinking as she looked Silas up and down.

How did he manage to still look so debonair yet when she had woken up, she had looked and felt like crap. Her eyes lingered on the bottle he held. Oh she needed some of that. Not wanting to push her luck, however, she refrained from snatching it. Now she was out of the shower, the headache was returning slowly. She distracted herself with the situation at hand. Wrapped in a towel, in a bathroom, with her employer, who she had likely had some sort of drunken sex with sometime after her memory had failed. She chewed her bottom lip absently. Pity she couldn’t remember. A repeat performance would be nice, with the exception of excessive alcohol. Good job she had brushed her teeth.

[Silas Rosier]

It was a bizarre thing to see Jac lost for words, and it was a sensation Silas quickly found he certainly didn't dislike. The absence of more fussing after that one bout of swearing was a good enough as an invitation to stay, so Silas made no move to get out of the way and instead eyed her reaction with a look of mild interest.

Jac actually looked reasonably well considering how much she’d had the night before. Well, aside from the bloodshot look and the bags under her eyes from what must have been a less than fulfilling sleep courtesy of glutamine rebound. Or perhaps Silas was more willing than usual to lower his standards because Jacaranda Mulciber was standing in front of him wearing only a towel and not trying to actively kick him out of the room. Any opportunity as far as she was concerned was one he was going to attempt to move on, despite the circumstances.

Jac seemed to regain a little of her old self the moment that her wand was back in reach. So, logically, to make her compliant, one needed to separate her from it. He’d remember that one for later. “Well,” Silas replied cheerfully, rearranging his stance and gesturing to the bathroom with a flourish, “technically this is my bathroom, so perhaps that’s what I should be asking you, Miss Mulciber, if you’re still insistent on formalities after last night,” he shrugged, giving her a grin and raising the bottle to his lips again. “Never mind. I forgive you,” he added with a laugh.

Evidently she wasn’t exactly wholey unimpressed with the situation judging by the way she was opting to eye him up. The manner in which she was chewing her lip was either just her being unsure about the whole affair or an attempt at being suggestive. Silas found it a lot easier to just assume it was the latter. Taking that as a green flag he wandered into the room, slowly approaching the large sink that Jacaranda had situated herself at. “How’re you feeling?” He asked, holding out the base of the bottle in case she wanted some. Simple pleasantries, but they usually worked to butter people up.

[Jacaranda Mulciber]

Technically his? So he’d paid for it then – that was encouraging. “Ms.” She corrected, the slightest quirk of a smile playing at the corner of her mouth. She eyed the bottle carefully, wishing she had a stiff drink to chase away this persistent headache. Groggily her dehydrated brain realised an opportunity for investigation. “Why, was what went on last night cause enough for us to be on first name terms, Silas?” His abundance of smiles and even a laugh could be construed as disconcerting. Silas was not the smiling type, though the fact of it was intriguing. What had she done to deserve such a rare spectacle? Should she be congratulating herself?

Jac managed to feel mildly intimidated as Silas closed the distance to stand at the sink with her. Her fingers clenched a little, resisting the urge to reach for her wand. She was in no danger here, and she definitely was not intent on driving her employer away. She made the most of his closeness by studying his face, and was surprised at his offer of a drink, not to mention his apparent care for her health. Damn, that must have been some good sex. “Fine.” She answered hesitantly, taking the bottle with similar cautiousness. She took a long drink and handed it back. “Better, thank you.”

Well and truly under the influence – of Silas and not alcohol – Jac found it difficult to think critically, She should feel trapped, with the taller man blocking her way to the only exit, with her dressed in nothing but a towel and him in an apparent state of satisfaction as if he’d already gotten what he wanted. She shifted a little closer, lips parting just a little as she dwelled a little too long on the possibilities. “So, Silas, are you going to share the mini-bar, or will I have to fight you for it?” She teased, aware of his certain obsession for alcohol. If they hadn’t already cleared it out, she could do with a little pick-me-up courtesy of Silas’ room tab.

[Silas Rosier]

Hmm, she used his first name in return. As far as signs went that wasn’t one to complain about. Silas was quickly wondering about how much Jac knew or guessed about the previous night’s events because she had kept the question ambiguous. That she hadn’t attempted to challenge him on anything yet seemed to hint that she was reaching the desired conclusion, so all he really had to do was keep attempting to read her responses and modify his behaviour accordingly.

“Well, I would have thought so, but I suppose that’s really your call, isn’t it,” Silas admitted, smiling one sidedly and keeping his gaze focused on her face this time. Huh, her eyes were brown with little flecks of chestnut in them. Would he remember that past tomorrow? Not likely.

Perhaps he was just reading into it too much, but a shift forwards on Jac’s part, no matter how slight, was still a shift in his direction and Silas tilted his head slightly in response. Her lips parted softly, lingered that way as though hesitating, then she suddenly asked about...

The minibar?

Huh. Alright. Not what he had been expecting but it certainly wasn’t a suggestion he was turning down. “Please, be my guest,” he replied with a practised geniality. “Might as well put it to good use.” People could claim what they liked but alcohol really had to be the world’s most prolific date rape drug. It was all together too effective at getting the mission accomplished... in moderation. Moderation was something he was going to need to enforce around Jac. He had yet to learn why she’d gone and decided to get herself trashed, and really, the only incentive for him to find out was the hope it was some sorrow he could later abuse. Now, however, was not the time to ask, lest any potential activities be ruined before they began.

“I’ll wait for you outside. What do you drink?” He asked as he turned around to walk back into the darkened bedroom. There was no fear in leaving her behind because Jac couldn’t get to the door out of the hotel room without him noticing. Anti-apparition charms were fairly standard in hotels to stop people attempting to stay without paying or from slipping off before being charged for room service.

A little more light that packed less punch than the midday sun would be appreciated, so Silas pulled out his wand and jabbed it in the direction of the fireplace, causing a small burst of flame to appear on the logs and quickly start crackling away greedily at the wood. Silas was by no means a ‘mood’ type of person, although he recognised right afterwards that the gesture could be interpreted as such. Whatever, Jac could construe it whichever way suited her best.

A small surprise waited for Silas when he opened the fridge door to the mini-bar. He’d done a fair amount of rummaging in there earlier, but all the drinks had snapped back to their original position after he’d shut the door, and a brand new bottle of the vodka he’d taken was now sitting in the back corner. That’s it; he was buying a discreet one of these things for his office. It shouldn’t be too hard to replace a file draw with a slide-out version. Finding Jac’s selection, he closed it and made a move to make himself comfortable at the foot of the bed before he was temporarily distracted with something highly out of place.

The fact that Jac hadn’t asked why the hell her underwear was on the chandelier was rather telling, although to be honest, he had no clear idea either. Evidently he needed to be more careful about where he threw things. He eyed it with one eyebrow raised, then proceeded to wait for Jac to finish up.

[Jacaranda Mulciber]

Was he being intentionally ambiguous in return? Although she was fairly convinced she could guess the final outcome, she would have liked some hints at least. Sulking a little, she began to wonder if it was worth pursuing the real events of last night or giving up as if she got her way now, there would definitely be no mystery. At least not about the part that mattered.

Yay, drinks. “Beer’ll do.” Jac was consistent, at least. She wasn’t planning on drinking much, just enough to take the edge off. Using sex to convince someone of your worth was always a little depressing and a little ethanol in the system kept her cheery. Not that sleeping with Silas had been/would be depressing. Far from it. Attractive rich men were few and far between. Those that had the drive to make themselves fortunes were often excluded from the affections of women until their value exceeded such a woman’s standard for men. Silas was rich and good-looking – no, this was no chore at all.

While Silas fixed drinks, Jac hurriedly dried herself off, towelled her hair until it was just damp and found a complementary comb to tease out the knots she’d just put in it. Whatever shampoo the shower had provided had made her hair feel sleek and it smelt delicious. After one last look in the mirror, trying not to pine for makeup she desperately needed, Jac slipped on a bathrobe that had hung next to the towels. To distract from the state of her unmasked face, she let the robe hang dangerously loose around the V line of her chest and tied it definitively at her waist.

Satisfied, she stepped out of the bathroom and padded across the lushly carpeted room to sit beside Silas. She took the beer bottle from her employer, making sure her fingers lingeringly brushed his. Jac’s usual style was to play it easy, but let the man do the chasing. After a little encouragement, it didn’t take much for most men to fall for the bait. Then they owed her something. After enough of these little favours built up, she always managed to wrangle all those little favours into a promotion.

Silas was not exactly typical, but he was a man nonetheless. Jac took a drink from the beer bottle and realising she’d left her wand in the bathroom she used conventional methods to set it on the floor. She leaned back on the bed, supporting her self at an angle with her elbows on the mattress. She let silence fall, just the crackling of the firewood filling the gap. She hadn’t pegged Silas for the romantic type, but she supposed there was a lot she didn’t know about Silas. Most importantly: what was under that immaculate suit. Her eyes wandered, and she caught her bottom lip between her teeth to subdue a smile; she didn’t want to give him too much too soon.

“I like the room.” She started softly, “Expensive.” Her eyes lightened. She liked expensive things when they came with men that could afford them. “It’s a nice gesture, thank you.”

[Silas Rosier]

Had to give Jac more credit again, even when caught unawares she knew how to flaunt herself correctly. That knee-length bathrobe was entirely too formfitting to be accidental, Silas mused as he visually traced the curve of her plunging neckline.

The corner of the bed beside him lowered with her weight as Jacaranda slid down to sit at his side. The smell of her shampoo drifted tantalisingly over and Silas took a deep breath. Her fingers, he noted, were slightly warmer than his, although it made sense considering she’d just walked out from a hot shower.

As Jac leant forwards to put the beer on the ground Silas regained his senses somewhat. Finding his wand again he aimed it at the door and it swung closed of its own accord. Judging by the soft click of the lock Silas wasn’t intending for either of them to go anywhere. As an extra precaution he wordlessly cast a Flagrante Curse on the door handle to ward away any Abraham Grey’s from ruining his day a second time. Burning his fingerprints off ought to discourage him, or anyone else for that matter, from trying to get in.

No use in remaining sitting when Jac had no intention of doing so. Silas easily reclined back in the same position, noticing quickly where Jac’s eyes were going. Heh. At least they seemed to be on the same brainwave. The bottle of vodka he was holding needed to go somewhere, but he wasn’t giving it up as quickly as Jac had while there was something left in it. He quickly knocked back the rest of the contents before tossing the empty thing onto the carpet. It was the maid’s problem now.

“My pleasure,” Silas replied automatically, opting against adding on a ‘So, how’re you going to repay it?’, even if in the light of last night’s misadventure he did feel that Jacaranda owed him a tab that couldn’t be paid back with money.

Ergh, screw the games. He always had been the instant gratification sort and Jac had it coming now for wearing that damn bathrobe. His eyes flicked up to Jac’s face and without further hesitation Silas rolled over to face her and slipped a free hand around the back of her neck, recalling the reaction that had gotten from Abe before, then sliding his fingers up into her hair. He pulled her closer to him and pressed his lips firmly against hers, leaning into it and shifting his elbow to be more comfortable.

[Jacaranda Mulciber]

She recognised that look in Silas’ eyes as he sized her up. She’d seen it in many men’s eyes before but usually she had to fake the returned interest. Seeing that degree of warmth dilate her current employer’s eyes was damn-right distracting. She didn’t have to pretend to enjoy that look, and she unconsciously shifted, practically basking in the attention.

Jac followed the movement of his wand, not missing the click of the lock. The sound increased her anticipation and she allowed herself to enjoy the feeling. It was rare that she could actually participate in his pastime and feel as if she would get as much gratification as her partner. The fact that Silas was already making her hot under her metaphorical collar was a good sign that this was going to end well.

Her brow creased a little at the last flick of his wand. He said no incantations with it, but it looked suspiciously like a curse. Fortifying the door? She might have been worried if her skin wasn’t tingling eagerly. Whether or not he was keeping them in or everyone else out, she really didn’t care. The simple fact that she and Silas were alone and there were unlikely to be any interruptions was enough to set her heart rate up another notch. She had to carefully regulate her breathing else she’d soon be panting without anything even of happened yet.

And then he was dropping the vodka bottle away, as if he was going to need his hands for something soon. Jac blinked slowly, wondering whether or not to reign herself in. This was supposed to be her seduction, not his. If she folded first, it would defeat the entire point. Owning favours was only viable if you’d done the other person a favour first. If it happened that she’d made the first move, it would be as if she was the one seeking the first favour. Silas was entirely too tempting, and she was impatient for him to make the first move.

That familiar look in his eyes was getting steadily warmer. Every movement screamed lust and before she knew it, his hand had slipped around the back of her neck. A guttural noise escaped her lips before they were pressed none-too-softly against his. As the world became the feel of his fingers on her scalp, she managed to wonder how he knew about that particular sweet spot. More evidence toward forgotten drunken sex. In that moment as the buzz of lusting electricity clambered leisurely down her spine to pool as warmth in the basin of her hips, she would have done anything. She was a puppet on his strings so long as he kept his hand in her hair.

She fought against that compulsion, resisting the urge to beg for more right now. She couldn’t give in that easily, that wasn’t in the plan. While she battled that internal war, the rest of her was traitorously giving in. She melted against him, twisting to press herself bodily against him. One arm worked to pull her closer at both their insistence while the other tenaciously tugged the shirt from his trousers. Her lips worked carefully against his until she found the rhythm he set and then she fell into it. His facial hair was rasping but with her lips on fire, the feeling of it only kindled it.

Her hand had found its way under his shirt and she began the delightful task of exploring the shape of him, following the line of his spine from neck to where his belt restricted access. She hooked her thumb under it, using it as an anchor to wiggle her hips firmly against his. She allowed herself a little groan at the feel of him against her and she encouraged him with a few exploratory sweeps of her tongue over the roof of his mouth. She didn’t mind the force with which he held her against him. Anybody else, and she might not tolerate it, but Silas had a dominance that was surprisingly easy to submit to. It should worry her, like many other little things about him, but it didn’t – not yet.

Even the taste of alcohol on their breath was encouraging, and she could feel herself slipping. Soon she wouldn’t be in control, less so than she was now, and she needed to abandon ship before it fell off the edge of the world and she was done for. She made a little resistance, her lips stilling against his. He had the superior strength, so she was not getting away if he didn’t want her to. The fact that he hand her by the nape of the neck was something that would stop her even without strength. All he had to do was shift those fingers and she’d melt again. He could do anything with her and she’d accept it willingly. She’d embrace it because despite her life being based on the power of carnal pleasure, she did not experience a lot of it. Silas had a hold on her, physically and mentally, that kept her power of resistance low. She needed what Silas was offering as much as he was insistent to give it.

[Silas Rosier]

That bathrobe was going to have to come off. As was his shirt, it was getting stifling. One of Jac’s thighs had somehow worked its way between his legs and the friction caused Silas to give a throaty sound of appreciation. The manner she was now hooking her thumbs around his belt to press herself closer wasn't hurting either...

But, then...

Jac’s lips and hands suddenly stopped moving. Silas grunted promptly in annoyance. What? Like hell he was letting her have second thoughts now. “No you don’t,” he grumbled, lightly squeezing the back of her neck in a fashion that was although not painful, rather domineering. Using the same arm to keep himself propped up, Silas forced Jac down so that he was angled over her. “Come on.” It was an order, not a plea, and Silas didn’t give Jac time to protest because in the next second he was resuming the movement of his mouth and tongue against hers where they’d left off.

His other hand was now free to slide lingeringly downwards across her chest, slipping into her robe and around her waist to feel the texture of her skin before drifting back up to where it had started. He would have been quite happy to leave it busy there, in fact there were a few things he would have liked to continue doing, but the pressure in his trousers was starting to get painful.

That needed to be dealt with. Without pulling his head away Silas’s fingers started fumbling around his belt buckle, working blindly, but quickly managing to pull it loose and repeating the same with the trouser button and zipper. Fuck, the extra freedom was a Godsend. If Jac wanted any more she was going to have to continue herself.

Back to the robe. Silas turned his attention downwards, kissing and nipping the flesh down to her chest while steadily stripping the velour material away. He had to remember to breathe properly. Despite the fact the shower had washed off most of her natural taste and smell there was still something vaguely intoxicating there, or perhaps he’d just stopped thinking with his head.

Jac was an excitable one, but cutting to the chase too early was never the best strategy, not when there was still so much time for teasing which would pay off a hundredfold later down the track. The effort that Silas was intending to put in was not exactly for Jac’s benefit. Getting her off was just an extension of his own pleasure, a way to further fuel his own ego.

Putting his mouth to use in places on Jac’s torso, his fingers inched farther along the smoothness of her skin. Deeper. Lower. Before going all the way he skipped to the skin of her inner thigh and began again in the opposite direction. He was closer this time, fingers trailing dangerously close. Jac was going to beg if it was the last thing she did.