A/N: So this was actually inspired by a song and I decided to write it. Hope you'll enjoy. Reviews are always appreciated.

Weaver was relieved to find the bar empty when he walked in. That made everything so much easier, allowing him and Roni to cut straight to the chase instead of having to dance around each other until the last clients left, completely wasted.

Roni stopped her work and looked up at him, not surprised to see him there so late in the night. She took in the exhaustion on his face and the tension in his muscles before turning her attention back to the glass she was polishing. "You look like you got run over by a bus," she said casually, her sharp tongue and quick mind always on the ready. Especially when it came to him. "Want a drink?" she offered nonetheless.

"Well, I didn't come here to sip on your poison, Roni," he snapped as he made his way to the counter. He hadn't gone to the bar to get sassed by Roni. Yet, he should've seen it coming since they always got in a fight without exception. And still, he always came to her bar after a long day at work when he needed to let out some steam. He almost sighed in relief when he sat down on the stool, dead tired from the killer day he'd had.

"I know why you came here, Weaver," she said as she moved to grab a bottle of whiskey and a glass. "Wasn't sure if you'd want something to drink though." She poured a generous amount of alcohol and left the glass on the counter in front of him, holding his gaze. The challenge to prove her wrong, prove that she didn't know him was clear in her eyes.

Weaver picked the glass up and downed more than half of the whiskey, closing his eyes when it burned his throat and relaxed his muscles, chasing the tension away. He left the glass on the counter and got up from his stool. He circled the counter and caught Roni's hand, pulling her into a kiss. He didn't pay attention to the smirk he felt against his lips when they crashed on hers. It was barely there for a moment before she opened her mouth and let his tongue in. She knew him better than anyone, yet, she didn't know enough to hurt him so he only pulled her closer in response.

There was something so familiar in her that made touching her like coming home to a place you've never been before. And the readiness with which she responded to his kiss and let his tongue explore her mouth soothed his anxious mind, giving him a sense of security and filling him with confidence.

He picked her up, making her grab onto him tightly, and snatched his glass from the counter before heading up the stairs to her apartment. He threw her on the bed and finished his drink while his gaze roamed over her body, taking in her curves and her anticipation that was only thinly veiled. He left his glass on the floor, at the foot of the bed, and crawled on the mattress, not making her wait any longer since he knew patience was not her virtue. He was quite impatient himself.

Roni pulled him closer and the world outside her touch on his skin and her lips on his disappeared. The taste of her was enough to make him forget the exhaustion that had taken over his muscles and his mind. Her body moving together with his made all memories of confrontations with Belfrey seem distant and fake. Her touch distracted him from the screams of his own conscience that was quickly put to sleep when he was in her embrace, allowing him to enjoy the feeling of her skin against his without worrying about morality or power. Having Roni surrender to him made him feel powerful enough to take over the entire world if need be, but at the moment all that mattered was the closed space of her bedroom that was being filled with the moans of her pleasure.

She never screamed his name but that was okay with him since he hated it when she used it anyway. Hearing it fall from her mouth made shivers run down his spine, filling him with dread. It sounded so wrong coming from her that it made him doubt that was his real name.

And he never said her name while weakened by the force of an orgasm. He was too shaken to form coherent words, his mind scattered in pieces that reached further than he could comprehend and left him feeling like he'd forgotten something when they came back together.

He was always left spent but refreshed after a meeting with her which was a good thing because he needed to summon all of his strength to make himself go. He couldn't stay no matter how much he wanted to. And he wanted to. Happiness for him was tied to the late hours of the night spent in her bed when she made him feel invincible with her mere presence. He'd think she'd used black magic to bewitch him if he didn't know any better. But the truth was that she was too good for him, her light calling to the darkness inside him to come and destroy it. So he left each morning way before the sun could rise and shine on them to protect her as much as himself. Love was weakness anyway.