Turnabout Is Fair Play

She's known this was a bad idea from the start, but the full extent of her own idiocy doesn't dawn on Persephone until she finds herself standing in the doorway of Ares' quarters on Olympus, listening hard for any sign of the god of war before stepping over the threshold and closing the door behind her.

It's been weeks since their last confrontation, and in that time she's tried and failed to sort out the mess of emotions that resulted from it. The one thing that she has sorted out, however, is that he took something from her husband's domain and that she had probably better get it back before the god of war uses it for more nefarious purposes.

The things I do for my husband's approval, she thinks bitterly to herself, pausing to knot her skirts at her knee so that she won't have to worry about tripping on the flowing material. I should have left well enough alone and let him sort it out. Damn mother for making me so dutiful.

Ares' quarters aren't nearly so expansive as Zeus', or the ones she shares with Hades here on the mountaintop, but she still has no idea where to start. On a whim, she begins with the drawers of a side table pressed back against the wall. The drawer slides out easily, although she still finds herself holding her breath in anticipation of a noise. Inside are mostly trinkets - likely offerings from Ares' demigod children - and an odd-looking compass. She doesn't recognize it, but could still be something of her husband's that she simply hasn't encountered before. As she reaches out to touch the lacquered wood and brass device something rustles, and she freezes.

Damn it. She knew this was going to happen, and though she curses her own stupidity again, she draws herself up and smooths her expression into something resembling purposeful serenity.

Better to fake calm than let Ares see her fear.

Having just come from sparring with his godly sons, Ares was still in a rather foul mood, the session not having gone quite smoothly. He'd gone to the baths then to his room for his clothes. He'd been deciding if he wanted to wear a shirt or forgo one as he mostly did when he paused and listened. Someone had entered his room. A small smirk appeared as he took his time believing the interloper to be Aphrodite. Sliding the shirt on but leaving it open, he stepped quietly until he was at the curtain's that separated his living quarters. His dark brows crept up towards his hairline as he saw not a blond, but a brunette. A familiar brunette that had him staring for quite a few seconds wondering if one of his children had been luckier than they'd thought and he was reduced to an unconscious state and 'dreaming'.

His eyes darkened with suppressed emotion that he shuttered behind his walls. With a blank expression save for mild politeness, Ares stepped into the room and cleared his throat to announce his presence. "Find something that interests you?"

Inside he was rather upset, a tad annoyed, and very much irritated that she would come to his room and touch his things. Obviously she had thought he was out since she hadn't even announced herself. Tilting his head he tried to see what she was doing but made no move other than that from when he'd pulled back his curtain and entered. She'd made it quite clear last time she didn't want to be around him.

She's proud of how impassive she manages to stay as he steps into the room. On any other day, her instinct would have been to run, but at the moment her only thought is that if she plays her cards right she can still come out of this unscathed.

"Indeed," she replies, fingers curling around the smooth grain of the wood as she presses it into the folds of her skirt to hide it. He's clearly not happy to see her, though his tone is surprisingly polite as he questions her, and she's even less happy to see him. His half-dressed state implies that he was expecting an entirely different visitor, but it stirs conflicting memories anyway and makes her stomach roil uncomfortably.

"Since you seem to have no compunctions about visiting the underworld unannounced, I thought turnabout was in order," she replies, allowing a small smile to play on her lips. "That doesn't bother you, does it?"

The look he gives her is one that clearly states that he's waiting for her to tell him what she found that interested her so much that she hadn't heard him in the other room. His eyes dart to the movement of her hands and assumed she was doing as she had done in the underworld, after their brief...moment. Keeping his body language and expression non hostile, Ares arches a raven brow at her declaration. "This is Olympus, Persephone. Everyone is free to come and go as they like here."

None of the gods felt compelled to follow the rules of observance and 'call ahead'. That was the whole point. It was like a giant game trying to catch the others unawares. The only one they really had to schedule an appointment with was Zeus and his wife. Moving further into the room but still keeping his distance from the goddess, Ares went to the platter that had some fruit on it and picked through it as if debating what he wanted to eat.

He does have a point, and she curses her own forgetfulness for the thousandth time. Resolving to badger Hades into letting her come with him more often so that she can't forget again, she shrugs and uses her free hand to push a stray curl out of her eyes.

"Indeed," she repeats, still smiling wanly as he moves across the room. His ignoring her is pointed, but it doesn't bother her. So long as he's not paying full attention to her, he won't see the compass in her hand.

"You really ought to put a lock on that door," she says, feeling oddly amused. She's nowhere near having the upper hand - this is his room, and she has no doubt that if it came down to a fight he'd have her without breaking a sweat - but there's satisfaction in doing to him what he does to her. Invading his space without warning, catching him unawares is the best revenge she can get right now, and she's prepared to make the best of it while she can.

"Unannounced visitors are so troublesome, no?" she demurs, pursing her lips as she pretends to study the room around her.

"Really?" he sounds only mildly interested as he settled on the grapes. Taking them, he walked over to his couch and sat down on it comfortably leaning back on it. Popping a grape into his mouth he bit down on it and gave her an incredulous look. "Why? We have the god of thieves up here. Locks are useless."

It wasn't as if he had much to steal or that he cared if it was stolen. All his most treasured possession were secured elsewhere squirreled away. The only things up here were trophies that nobody else would bother with or some of his children's offerings for bragging. They were also a good tool to use to drive home lessons to his godly children.

Ares wasn't quite sure how he felt about how he was treating the goddess, but at the moment he decided he didn't care. It served her right for how she acted last time. She'd made her point with those gouges she'd given him and he was making his by treating her as she wanted to be treated; just like everyone else in the pantheon. Or how she thought he acted or behaved towards them. She didn't spend nearly enough time around Olympus or even around the majority of them to know that Ares was constantly on the outs so usually did whatever he wanted in lieu of following the rest like a sheep. As long as he didn't overtly offend or disobey his father, Ares usually was just considered a nuisance by the others.

Shrugging in reply to her question belying the fact that he was in fact very irritated and angry, he ate another grape. "Actually," he stated standing and began to button his shirt. "I'm in the middle of going somewhere. But feel free to stay and look around if you want."

He nearly nearly makes a quip about her not getting out but bites it back and it dies in his throat before he can open his mouth. Seeing as she was where he needed to go though he made a shooing gesture. "Could you please move?"

She raises her eyebrows at his shooing gesture but makes no comment as she crosses the room to perch on the couch that he's just vacated. Crossing her legs, she braces the heels of her hands against the plush material and leans back, still studying the room.

She feels like she ought to be much more concerned with how flippant he's being, but she can't quite bring herself to give it more than a passing thought. There will be time later to agonize over why he's so calm and polite, but first, she has to get out of here without raising his ire or his suspicion.

His room is surprisingly spartan for someone who seems to glory in collecting the spoils of war. The furnishings are simple but well made, and to her surprise, there's nary a self-portrait to be found. She's always thought of him as endlessly self-aggrandizing, but clearly, she's misread him.

Or he stores his horde somewhere else, she thinks, rolling her eyes as she takes care to ensure the compass is hidden by the folds of her skirts once more. With Hermes about, it would make sense.

Ares waits until the goddess moves away from the drawers he needs to get to. His brow arches seeing the drawer still open. Face going slack as he realized what was in that drawer he yanked it open all the way and rummaged through the odds and ends he had in there that his demigod children had given him as well as a few things here and there that had been keepsakes of other things. His eyes darkened when he realized what wasn't in the drawer any longer. Anything else he might have let her get away with taking. That however, he couldn't let her have back or keep. Jaw clenching, he slammed the drawer shut and spun around sharply to level a look of narrow eyed low level anger.

"I'll need that back, Persephone." He didn't tell her what it was since he knew she knew what it was he was referring to. Possibly she wasn't aware of what the compass hid, but then again, she might. Why couldn't she have taken something else? Something that he wouldn't mind playing cat and mouse with. It would have been fun, and a bit endearing that she had started a game of her own with him. He wasn't in the mood to be amused though and started towards her with his hand held out for her to give the compass back. "Now." It wasn't a request.

She can hear him begin to rummage, though she's careful to appear uninterested in his activities, staring at the molding that separates the tops of the walls from the ceiling. Her heart is beginning to pound, but she forces herself to breathe. Panic won't do her any favors, especially if she needs to make a quick decision.

"Hm?" she says, pretending surprise as he turns toward her, palm outstretched as he demands she hand over what she took. He's clearly furious, jaw set and eyes narrowed, but she forces herself not to cower, maintaining her relaxed perch on the end of the couch. "You need what back?"

She's not playing innocent. To do so would have been a worse idea than coming in here in the first place, but maybe if she plays her cards right she can wring out of him exactly what he took from the underworld in the first place.

"You'll have to be more specific, Ares."

The muscle in his jaw twitches as he glares with an unfriendly smile on his face. Oh, he would have approved and admired how she was able to finally stand toe to toe with him and not give into the urge to cower in front of him, but now was not the time. Closing the gap, his eyes roam over her until they're staring at where her hands were in her skirts. So, that was what she had been doing when he had thought she might have done so to still her hands. Looking back up to her eyes he allowed a bit more of his ire to show through. She was making his patience wane.

"Don't play coy now." Invading her space until he was standing directly in front of her, Ares gave her one last chance to hand it over willingly. "That belongs to me. Hand it over. Please."

Between one blink and the next, he's moved into her space, towering over her with an expression on his face that's less of a smile and more of a snarl. For a moment she considers giving up and saving herself from his wrath - better to leave shamed than in pieces - but her pride says otherwise. She can sense the underworld on the compass, which makes it hers by definition. He can snarl and sneer all he likes, but this isn't theft - it's taking back what's hers by right.

"Who's playing coy?" she asks, arching her eyebrows as she withdraws her hand from her skirts to reveal the compass nestled in her palm. "You asked a very vague question, and I'm only a foolish girl. How was I supposed to know this is what you wanted?"

Turning to inspect the object in her palm, she purses her lips thoughtfully and turns the compass this way and that, watching the light gleam off of the polished metal and wood. "This is what you took then," she says, watching the needle waver as she turns her hand. "You really ought to hide your stolen goods better. Someone might wander in and help themselves."

The smile she gives him is all teeth, a more feminine reflection of his own expression. "Although you must want it very badly. I don't think I've ever heard you say 'please' before."

"Oh, you're foolish alright," he agreed. Unable to stop how his eyes roamed her body he stated, "But we both now you are not a girl."

The expression he gave the woman clearly stated that she should have known since it was the only damn thing she took! What else would he have wanted back? It wasn't like she physically took anything else that belonged to him. He watched as she brazenly took it out and made the mistake of thinking it was the compass itself that he had taken. He growled deep in his throat and made to grab for it but she was quicker and snatched it aside.

"Its not stolen. It was freely given up." That was true. The compass had come to him via his mortal child. "I'm surprised you'd care about the words I use."

Dammit, he needed that compass. Well, there was more than one thing he wanted, but at the moment he'd settle for the compass. Stepping closer, Ares made it to where the woman would have to either shove him away or fall backwards to get away from him.

The open once-over he gives her is enough to make her stomach twist, although she can't say if it's from apprehension or something else. Her lip curls as he comes closer still, forcing her to scoot back until the friction between the fabric of her skirt and the material of the couch becomes too great and she overbalances. She lands on her back, making a point to keep the hand holding the compass over her head and out of his reach until she can prop herself up on an elbow.

"It reeks of the underworld," she states, tapping one manicured fingernail against the glossy wood. "Which makes it mine by right," she adds, giving him a bitter smile. "Unless you'd care to explain how it acquired an underworld aura?"

"Besides," she continues, shaking her hair out of her face as she shifts her weight to both elbows. "Please has such an air of desperation to it. Which begs the question of why the god of war is attached enough to a gift from his child that he's willing to lower himself by minding his manners."

Ares swallowed as he looked at the goddess sprawled on his couch, refusing to look away. How many times had he envisioned this before she had flat out refused him then went and got herself married to his uncle? He had to admire the way she was holding her own. It caused him to wonder what had happened in few weeks that had drastically changed her into this. He doesn't deny that it reeks of the underworld since he had half suspected that it would give off some kind of aura that she could feel being the queen of the dead.

"Maybe it acquired it while I was 'repeatedly trespassing, attempting to steal the guard dog, and antagonizing the residents' of your husband's realm." He couldn't help but toss back what she had accused him of doing. He nearly cursed himself for allowing her to rile him up but she wasn't making it easy by doing what she was doing. Ares swore she was doing it on purpose to distract him. A flash of triumph and smugness appeared when she admitted that the gift had come from his child which by rights made it his. He could go to his father and claim his right, but if they looked further into it, then they might make him give up the secret.

While it might be stupid by leaving himself open and cause him to regret this move he shrugged it off. He'd deal with that bridge when he came to it. Climbing onto the couch trapping her legs with his own, he used his bulk to pin her so she couldn't rise grabbed her wrist in strong grip, but not so much to leave a bruise. Giving a sardonic grin he stated, "Oh well, one can try."

"I think I might be insulted that you think I'm fool enough to believe that," she snarks, watching his suddenly triumphant expression with wide eyes. "What are you doing?" she demands, trying and failing to wriggle out from under him before he can pin her legs with his own.

"Get off of me," she snaps, squirming harder as he grips her wrist. She can feel panic bubbling in her stomach, but she forces it down. Panic won't do anything but make the situation worse, and give him the satisfaction of seeing her fail - added insult to injury.

Instead, she sets her jaw and continues squirming while her free hand pushes against his shoulder, trying to shift his bulk even the slightest bit so that she can get some kind of leverage with which to fend him off. She knows she hasn't got a hope - he's had several thousand years worth of training, and all the muscle built by that training makes him decidedly heavy - but she has to at least put up a fight for the sake of her pride.

At least nobody will say that I didn't try she thinks bitterly, tightening her grip on the compass until her knuckles turn white.

Ares let his actions do the talking for him to answer her question of what he was doing. Her own actions caused him to smile and reply, "Only if you give me what I want," he purred at her before making an aborted sound as she jostled about causing him to shut his eyes briefly. This woman was going to be the death of him.

The war god deliberately didn't budge as she pushed on his shoulder despite the fact that he knew that he should lest she call wolf. His arm stayed where it was caging her in and essentially trapping her beneath him on his couch. Despite being the goddess of the dead for six months, at the moment she smelled more like ripe flowers rather than the sickly scent they gave off when dying. It had always fascinated him how her scent seemed to change relating to the year. Being this close to her, Ares couldn't help but breathe in the heady scent that was jasmine and vanilla and her.

Eyes darkening with want but also with the fact that he wasn't going to allow her to leave thinking she could come and go as she pleased into his room without expecting retaliation, Ares aggressively captured her mouth with his own and this time he wanted more than the brief blissful few seconds he'd experienced previously.

This time she gets a warning, but it still isn't enough. He inhales deeply, eyes seeming to darken for a split second before his mouth crashes down on hers.

Immediately she's caught in the tangle of panic, duty, and loneliness again, and her first instinct is to thrash - to get him off of her and make the ugly feeling go away. But damn it all, it feels good to have someone kiss her in a way that isn't just a dry, passionless peck on the cheek.

She still knows it's wrong - she's married, and he loves another - but the warmth that seems to radiate off of him in waves is melting her resistance surprisingly quickly. And, despite his personality, he's a very good kisser.

Just this once, she tells herself, eyes fluttering shut as she relaxes into the kiss. Just this once I'm allowed to feel wanted, and warm, and not alone.


It's a cold comfort, but it's good enough for now. Still, she's careful to keep a tight grip on the compass as she begins to respond.

After her brief moment of frozen of what he assumed was hesitation, she relaxed and Ares deepened the kiss, inviting her to do the same with his mouth. Taking what she offered despite the fact that he had wanted this, it wasn't what he'd meant when he told her to give him what he wanted. The way she was responding reassured him that she just wasn't doing it either because she thought that was the price for the compass.

For once, he was thankful of the shirt he was wearing which was of such a thinner material than his usual leather vest. He was able to feel her very much more clearly allowing less distance between their bodies. While he was reluctant to do so in case she decided to voice her rejection again, Ares released her mouth and pulled his head back to take in the expression on her face.

She clearly doesn't have the experience he has, so does her best to follow his lead as the kiss deepens. She finds herself relaxing further, the fingers of the hand that was pushing against his shoulder curling into the fabric of his shirt. He's so warm that she wants to cuddle closer, but she stops herself. Cuddling implies a certain degree of romantic commitment, and there's none of that here. It's wanting, pure and simple, which is fine by her.

Even just wanting and being wanted is better than nothing.

As he breaks the kiss and leans back, still hovering over her, she finds herself a little bit winded, like she's been running. He doesn't say anything and neither does she, not wanting to shatter the soap-bubble fragility of the moment. Instead, she relaxes the hand that's knotted in his shirt, smoothing the fabric where her fist has wrinkled it.

She's not sure where to go from here, but there's no turning back either. She tips her chin up ever so slightly and holds his gaze, arching an eyebrow. It's an invitation, freely given, if he's inclined to accept. She's been dancing around this for a very long time, and it feels right to finally act on it, though she knows she'll be guilt-ridden later.

A smirk crept onto his face unbidden proud of the fact that he'd been able to bring her to this state. Seeing the look she gives him and that she wasn't going to run caused his stomach to flip and an answering expression letting her know this was her last chance to back out. When it doesn't come but he sees that she was actually granting him what he'd wanted to do for a very long time. His eyes searched hers with slight suspicion but then decided he would accept her offer not knowing if or when the opportunity might ever come again.

The hand holding her wrist captive relaxes a bit more and his thumb strokes over the pulse point as he dips his head back down to reclaim her mouth. Ares shifted his weight a bit to more comfortably accommodate the both of them on the couch positioned the way that they were. Everything else had more or less fled from his mind once she had agreed to willingly submit to what couldn't be denied between the two of them for quite awhile. It had been a long time coming, ever since the two had crossed paths.

Wanting more, Ares broke their kiss to move to where he could almost taste the vanilla that was mixed into the jasmine at her throat. Releasing her wrist, his hand came up to brush his fingers down the column of her neck that he wasn't currently in the process of sampling. His fingers continued to trail along her collarbone to the shoulder of the purple dress the goddess was wearing, sliding along her skin and pushing at the material that was keeping him from touching.

His touches are surprisingly gentle - soft enough to raise goosebumps on her skin, especially where his thumb brushes over the pulse point on her wrist and his fingers trail down the side of her throat. He keeps drawing soft little sounds out of her throat - half laughter and half gasp.

Her eyes flutter shut and she tips her head back further, giving him more space for his ministrations along her neck. Between his kisses and the fingers trailing down over her collarbone to the straps of her chiton, she's quite lost in a bliss that's only interrupted by his insistent tugs on the material holding her dress up.

She makes an amused noise as she reaches for the strap to push it aside for him. Once the obstruction to his touch is removed her hand returns to his shoulders, skimming across the muscled expanse until her fingers find the nape of his neck. From there her hand drifts upwards, fingers winding into his hair.

"So impatient," she sighs, the corners of her lips turning up slightly.

Ares gives the goddess a mock glare and growls in frustration when he couldn't get the material to move. He liked the fact that the color was the exact same shade as the color of his light. Whether it was accidental or on purpose, the fact of the matter it stroked his ego. Until the damn thing decided to be difficult. He forgave it though when Persephone moved the offending piece of cloth aside. He shut his eyes briefly at her touch and relished the fact that she was initiating contact rather than just responding.

At being called impatient, Ares gives her collar bone a nip and chuckles at her reaction. Of course he was impatient! The damn woman had been giving him the run around and sending mixed signals until now. He was not about to let this moment slip by him. His fingers trailed the edges of the lilac material and the skin beneath. "I don't like waiting when I really want something," he purred.

The little nip he gives her collarbone makes her jump and gasp, her grip on his hair tightening ever so slightly and then relaxing again as the quick sting fades into the soft feeling of his fingers trailing over the space where the strap had been.

"And here I was thinking you were patient," she says sardonically, using her grip on his hair to draw him down for another lingering kiss. She almost drapes her other arm across his shoulders to bring him closer still until she remembers the compass still resting in her palm.

Damn it. She has to give it to him - he's very distracting - but suddenly all she can think about is the compass. She needs to get it back to the underworld soon without him noticing. Otherwise, she'll be facing the wrath of a different deity.

An idea begins to dawn on her, and though she's not thrilled about it, it will do for now. The compass is the priority now, not her need to be wanted.

"Didn't you say you had somewhere to be?" she asks coyly, voice breathy as she leans back to break the kiss. "I wouldn't want to make you late for something important."

Oh, he could be patient, but only if he really wanted to be or out of necessity. Being the god of war meant that he had to sometimes put his own petty wishes aside. There were rare times when he'd let his emotions get the better of him, mostly having learned the hard way like the whole Trojan War debacle. When it came to personal matters, that was something else entirely.

The fact that she was taking charge actually caused Ares' lust and pride to grow as he savored the kiss. He is very curious to find out how she would be as a lover. He liked it when it was aggressive, but he also liked to take it slow, it all depended on the person that was in his bed and how they were feeling.

Irritated and more than a bit distracted, Ares gazed at her in confusion, hazily asked, "What?" Not comprehending what she was asking at first. It takes longer than it should for his mind to clear as his gaze kept roaming to her lips and the skin that he had uncovered and wanted to continue to strip and sample.

"It can wait," was his matter of fact reply. Few things would have been able to drag him away from Persephone laid out on his couch like this. "I'd much rather unwrap my present," he smirked and dipped his head down again.

The effect of her eye roll is ruined somewhat by the gasp that he draws out of her throat when his lips meet her skin again. 'His' present indeed, she thinks sardonically as she draws the tips of her fingers through his hair. We'll see how he likes pretty new possession when she gets away with his compass.

"Speaking of unwrapping," she purrs, trailing her fingers down from the nape of his neck to tug at the collar of his shirt, a smile pulling at the corners of her lips. "Why don't you go get rid of this," she pulls gently on the fabric and leans in, stopping short of letting their lips meet. "I need a minute."

The smile widens as she leans in to tug lightly at his lower lip with her teeth. "Of course, that's if you can be patient for just a moment more," she breathes, looking up at him from under her lashes.

"You can do that, can't you?"

Pleased with the sounds he was eliciting out of her, Ares enjoyed the fingers in his hair and nearly shivered when they moved down to his shirt collar. His eyes stayed glued to her lips before meeting her eyes and a smirk pulling at his mouth. He would enjoy unwrapping her since he'd been patient to wait for her this long. A groan was pulled from deep in his throat at her teasing him. Licking his lip, eyes completely filled with want again, Ares pushed himself up until he was balanced on his legs. It hadn't even entered his mind that they might want to do this some place other than Olympus, yet part of Ares had a dark sense of satisfaction at the thought of having Persephone here.

His fingers made quick work of the buttons yet didn't remove it. Despite being a deity and known for some of his impatiences, Ares wasn't one for ripped clothes unless in battle. A bit of Aphrodite's influence he was sure along with his own vanity.

Careful of her legs, Ares got off the couch, turned his back on her, and walked over towards the table that held a pitcher of wine and a goblet.

She lets out a shaky breath, her hand falling back to her side as he sits up and makes short work of unbuttoning his shirt. She doesn't like to admit it, but he is very good looking, and she can't help but sigh longingly as he stands up to cross the room, evidently seeking a drink.

She sits up slowly, feeling her pulse beginning to slow as she works to untangle the places where the curls at the back of her head have knotted together. She's hyper aware of the weight of the compass in her hand, and when she's sure that Ares' attention is on the wine and goblet she stands and turns toward the door.

Go, go! She curses herself, feeling her resolve beginning to waver as she crosses to the door as quietly as she can. Why exactly is she doing this again? What does one of Hades' playthings matter so much? Can't she just stay and forget about her husband for a little while?

No, no, no. Hades is your husband. This is your duty, now do it! She almost flinches at the sharpness of her internal monologue. She knows her gut is right - she has to do this - but she really doesn't want to.

So much is her reluctance that she almost murmurs an apology as her hand closes around the doorknob and twists.

Ares felt his jaw clench as he listened intently while he pretended the need for a drink while she took that minute she asked for. His heart rate had settled back down yet still wanted to try and pick up as the sound of moving cloth came to ears. It was the wrong sort of rustling though. Persephone hadn't asked for space because she was nervous about undressing. No, she was trying to get away from him. Part of Ares wanted to laugh that she thought something so obvious would work. Then again, she had distracted him quite thoroughly and he would have gladly continued with the distraction until it came to completion.

Instead, she was ending the game early and trying to take away a prize not fully won just yet. A dark mischievous smile sprouted onto his face as he turns and moves with the speed he'd honed for eons. His hand slammed down on the door shutting it once again caging her between himself and an object she couldn't escape from. This time he wasn't as gentle and he truly regretted it, but she left him no choice. "I'm sorry, but you still have something that belongs to me, Persephone."

His hand took hold of her wrist and twisted so she'd let go of the compass, and quickly retreated away from her, his hands behind his back. Knowing by touch what to do, he slid the vial out of the compass and into the back of his leather pants. Done, he held it out almost as if he was teasing her. "Want to try again?"

The door slams shut and she flinches back against the wood, blocked in by Ares' bulk and his twisting grip on her wrist. It's not entirely a surprise - she knew she hadn't a hope of getting away without attracting his notice - but she had to try. The compass drops into his waiting hand and she pulls her wrist back gingerly.

Yet again she's torn. She feels guilty for deceiving him, and she wishes she could simply go back to the moment before she acted and undo what's been done. Still, she's done her duty, and that gives her a modicum of comfort.

He holds out the compass, baiting her with it, and she gives it a resigned look. Her only options are to take it and run or leave it. Either way, she's technically failed, and it weighs on her.

Lips twisting, she plucks the compass out of his hand and yanks the door open to make a hasty exit. It takes everything she has not to look back and wonder if she's done the right thing, but that would imply that she has a choice about being her husband's custodian.

Ares didn't put up a fight, allowing her to take the compass from his hand, his eyes still dancing with laughter up until the she fled and he shut the door. Then his eyes went dark and all humor left his expression and posture. Silently in his mind he counted and listened then sure that she had fled, he turned and went back to the couch, dropped heavily onto it and allowed his head to sink into his hands. Frowning, he reached back and pulled out the vial that had really been Persephone's target albeit unknowingly. Closing his fist around it, he stood and finished getting ready. With it secured, he found himself with a predatory grin. While one game might have ended, another had just begun. If the responses he'd gotten today were anything to go by, he might just have better luck next time. Exiting his room in very high spirits, he went to deliver his package, thoughts already going towards retrieving his trinket from his uncle's wife.