Ninja Gaiden Koibito

Beta Build: Christie

“I have never encountered such a mass of humanity.” Hayate shook his cloaked head. “If the clones wished to hide, they have picked the greatest haystack any needle could hope for.”

“We’ll find them, Hayate.” Ryu nodded firmly as they shouldered their way through the dense crowds. The sun had begun to set and they had yet to find any sign of their quarry. “But perhaps not today.”

“Then we should rest while we can and start at first light.” Hayate motioned toward an alleyway and they waded through the stream of people into the relative emptiness. They spotted a corner of a brick wall next to a small fountain that would provide cover from the wind and water to refresh themselves.

“I will take the first watch.” Ryu turned to watch the crowd still passing by several meters away. “Rest easy, friend.”

“I’ll rest, but no promises as to how easy…” The last part of Hayate’s response was drowned out by a savage growl. Ryu spun around to see the ragged form of a large dog lunging toward Hayate’s back. The animal’s teeth were barred, and the telltale froth dripping from its lips made Ryu’s stomach flip with alarm.

Even as Ryu was drawing the Dragon Sword, Hayate was spinning about, unsheathing his own katana. A strange buzzing filled Ryu’s right ear as something shot past his head. Suddenly the dog’s head snapped backward and its legs went limp. The beast dropped to the pavement, sliding up to Hayate’s feet. Hayate starred down at the dog, his sword finally unsheathed and at the ready.

“Ryu?” Hayate called over his shoulder.

“It wasn’t me.” Ryu shook his head as he watched the blood begin to pool around the dog’s head. His eyes moved toward his friend and caught site of something. “Hayate, your arm is bleeding.”

Hayate looked and saw that the side of his right sleeve was cut, as was the skin beneath. A shallow cut, nothing serious.

Both men dropped to the ground, rolling up against the brick wall.

“Sniper.” Ryu breathed.

“I heard no shot.” Hayate scanned the skyline. Dozens of buildings filled the darkening sky, each of them a perfect perch from which to fire. He glanced pointedly from the dead dog to the shallow wound on his arm. “Friend or foe?”

“It does not matter.” Ryu shifted, sitting up against the wall. “I have first watch. We will confront this shooter tomorrow. Sleep for now, friend.”

* * *

The two ninjas dropped out of sight after his first shot. The sniper lay perfectly still on the roof of the Iron Gate Hotel, gazing through the scope of his silenced rifle. The city beneath him had at last begun to quiet, if only minutely. He doubted the city ever truly slept, but that was fine with him. The more noise and lights, the less likely it was that his work would be noticed.

There was the soft buzzing from his shoulder: a portable transmitter. Not taking his eye from the scope, he activated the microphone in his jet-black camouflage’s collar with but a tilt of his head.

“Yes.” The sniper’s voice was deep and cold as the night sky.

“Well? Have you found them yet?” The voice on the other end was high pitched and tinny, but it still conveyed impatience well enough.

“Not yet.” The sniper replied casually.

“We’re not paying you a king’s ransom so you can traipse around the globe sightseeing!” The other man squawked. “How hard is it to track down a couple of…”

“Don’t call me again.” The sniper spoke over him.

“I won’t put up with this arrogance of yours! I’m telling you, Bayman, if…”

The earpiece emitted a satisfying ‘click’ as he disconnected.

There was still no movement from the alleyway the two ninjas were hiding in. It was possible they were going to spend the night there, but that was fine. Bayman was nothing if not patient. Stars twinkled to life and a full moon shone over the city, bathing the roof in a soft bluish hue. He adjusted his black beret, feeling a cold shiver run down his spine. It took him a moment to realize that the night air was not particularly cool. The chill he felt was from something else. His gut.

Bayman rolled to his left, taking his rifle with him. The next instant he heard a muffled pop and a chunk of roofing shot into the air where his head had rested a moment before. He continued his roll, coming up on his knees with his rifle tight to his right shoulder. He scanned the roof, but there was no sign of his attacker. His trained ears told him the gunman had been wielding a silenced handgun, which meant he was close. The roof was littered with a host of pipes and exhaust vents, providing ample hiding places. Bayman had chosen this building for that exact reason, but he cursed himself now that the cover he had planned to use was now being used against him.

He moved swiftly toward a maintenance shed, pressing his back against the stainless steel siding. He brought the rifle up once more, sliding along the side of the shed, and hoping to get a bead on his enemy. Just as the tip of the rifle cleared the corner of the shed, another muffled pop was heard and suddenly his rifle was knocked from his grasp. Bayman saw a smoldering hole in the side of the barrel. Bayman had a moment to react. He was the best marksman he knew, and even he couldn’t have made a shot like that with a handgun from very far away given the split-second timing.

Bayman plucked his serrated combat knife from its sheath over his left shoulder. He dropped and rolled out past the corner of the maintenance shed, trusting his reflexes with his life. His eye caught a glimmer of movement and he threw the knife with practiced ease. He heard the sharp twang of metal meeting metal and a surprised gasp. He saw his knife and a sleek looking pistol fall to the ground several yards away. He looked up and saw…

A woman.

She stood less than two yards away. She was a striking creature with hair the color of the purest Siberian snow. Her athletic frame was wrapped tightly in black camouflage similar to Bayman’s own gear.

The gear of an assassin.

Bayman scrambled to his feet and charged her, his fist flying toward her face. She ducked quickly as he passed her, sending her own fist into his back. Pain shot through him, but Bayman hardly grimaced. Pain and he were old comrades. Bayman set his feet, settling into an old close-quarters combat posture.

“Best not to take this lady too lightly.” The woman’s quip was dripping with a British accent. Bayman was vaguely surprised by how white her teeth were as she grinned malevolently.

“Bring it.” He motioned her to approach. His English was not the cleanest, but he enjoyed the chilling effect his husky Russian accent had on people. This woman, however, did not seem intimidated.

She darted toward him with feline grace. Her hands shot out at him with the speed of striking cobras, jabbing everywhere at once. Bayman’s thickly muscled torso absorbed her strikes. He trained with weights extensively, and tonight it might have saved his life. Even with the sharp pain coursing through his body, Bayman realized that this woman’s attacks could easily be fatal were it not for an extra inch of muscle here and there.

The woman drew back, her face twisted with a mixture of frustration and pain. She flexed her sore fingers. The digits crackled in protest. Bayman chuckled, trying to hide the pain of the dozen strikes she had landed.

“What is your name, woman?” He asked, resetting his footing in preparation for another assault.

“You think I just hand out my name to everyone I’m about to kill?” She crouched low, circling him like a panther on the hunt.

“I do.” He turned, following her movements without blinking. “I am Bayman.”

“Well now, I have heard of you.” She nodded. Bayman was keeping a close eye on her arms. Her lightning kick caught him off guard. He barely raised his arm up to block and was knocked off his feet, landing painfully on his back. The woman closed in on him. “My name is Christie.”

Bayman struck out with his booted foot, knocking Christie’s left foot out from under her. She caught herself with her hands, now looking more than ever like a cat. Bayman came up on his knee and lunged into her. His shoulder plowed into her stomach, knocking the wind out of Christie’s lungs in a loud whoosh. Even as she gasped for breath, Christie brought her elbow down on the back of his head. Stars twirled in his eyes, but Bayman shook them away. The two assassins rolled across the roof, trading savage blows.

Bayman’s hand found his combat knife as they rolled back toward the maintenance shed. The same moment, Christie managed to grab her pistol a foot away as her heel rattled Bayman’s teeth with a hard kick. Bayman was laid out flat with Christie straddling him, swinging around to bring her gun to bear. Bayman’s arm shot up, and his knife caught Christie’s pistol just under the barrel, holding the weapon just a few degrees from a clear shot at his head.

Christie’s right foot caught Bayman’s left wrist, pinning his free hand to the roof at his side. Christie had her pistol in a two-hand grip, pressing down against Bayman’s knife blade, attempting to line up a shot. Bayman’s right arm bulged with effort, keeping the pistol off target. The barrel was no more than a few inches from his face.

“Seems we have a stalemate, darling.” Christie’s face dripped with sweat and a trickle of blood flowed down from the corner of her mouth. Her arms shook with effort, trying to line up her shot. “Not that this wasn’t fun…nnngh!”

Bayman pressed back with his arm. “Weak.”

“Easy. I’m the one on top after all.” Christie sneered.

“Why protect them?” Bayman asked suddenly.

Christie grimaced as she pressed down. “You’re hunting two friends of mine. What response would you expect?”

“How can you call Alpha-152 and Beta-117 friends?” Bayman’s mind reeled. His arm relaxed minutely and the barrel of Christie’s pistol lined up with his right eye.

There was no muffled pop.

“The clones?” Christie’s finger was wrapped tightly around the trigger. “No. I’m hunting those things. Along with the two ninjas you just tried to kill.”

“Tried to kill?” Bayman grinned savagely. “If I had meant to kill them, they would be dead.”

“Don’t jest with me, Bayman.” Christie’s grip on the pistol tightened. “My finger is beginning to itch.”

“I followed your two ninjas because they have picked up the trail of the clones. I have no other interest in them.” Bayman tried to free his left arm but Christie’s foot held it down fast.

“What business do you have with the clones?” Christie demanded.

“I’m to eliminate them.” Bayman answered evenly.

“You’re working for DOATEC.” Christie’s voice was as cold as ice. Her finger pulled back on the trigger.

“No.”

Bayman’s voice was so matter of fact, so calm that Christie’s finger paused, millimeters from dealing death to the mercenary beneath her.

“I was hired by a competing firm.” Bayman explained. “They want the clones dead, but they want the remains. They think if the Epsilon project is made known to the public that DOATEC will be truly be dead at last. I have my own reasons for hurting DOATEC, but why not do it on someone else’s ruble?”

“Well it would seem we have a few things in common, then.” Christie arched an eyebrow, looking down at her pistol resting against Bayman’s knife. “Should we reconsider killing each other?”

“That would depend on whether we believe one another.” Bayman’s voice betrayed no emotion. “Either of us could be lying.”

“True.” Christie nodded. “But then again, I’ve had my gun pointed at your head for a full minute now and your brains are still sight-unseen.”

“Could be part of a plan.” Bayman reasoned. “And I could be lying.”

“Your reputation isn’t pretty,” Christie said. “Killing and maiming, yes. But no lying.”

“You said you’ve heard of me.” Bayman decided that talking might prove a decent distraction. “But I have never heard of you.”

“Exactly.” Christie flashed a vicious smile. “That’s how I prefer it. They say you don’t fib, Bayman. They also say you don’t…well, never mind.”

“Ask.” Bayman believed that he could free his left arm if Christie would shift her weight. The more she talked, the more likely she might slip up.

“You don’t take certain perks.” Christie shrugged. “The Yakuza offered you, what, eight virgins for that job in Singapore?”

“Four.” Bayman swallowed. Of all subjects, this was one he did not wish to broach.

“Well, four, eight…who’s counting?” Christie’s left hand slipped from her pistol and disappeared behind her back.

Suddenly Bayman’s body stiffened as he felt Christie’s hand grope between his legs. He had not expected this.

“Oh my.” Christie’s brow rose as she held his gaze. “Well, it seems that everything is there. Maybe you don’t like girls?”

“I prefer women to girls.” Bayman fought against the heat building beneath his camouflaged trousers. “But real women are rare.”

“Those two ninjas aren’t going anywhere until morning.” Christie’s hand began kneading him, and she could feel his length hardening under her touch. “Don’t you think two assassins can find a more interesting way to kill time?”

At last Christie’s weight shifted, and Bayman’s left arm slipped from underneath her foot. Christie swung her pistol toward the sudden movement, allowing Bayman to bring his knife up under her slender throat. Bayman felt her pistol press hard against the underside of his chin.

They stared coldly into one another’s eyes, each waiting for the other to make a move. The cold steel of Bayman’s knife pressed against Christie’s throat, while her own pistol was poised and ready under his chin. Seconds seemed to last an eternity. After another few moments, Christie felt Bayman’s free left hand slide up her right thigh and back over the smooth curve of her buttocks.

“Well, now.” Christie grinned down past the blade at her throat, down to the man who had her pistol shoved under his jaw. “This is going to be fun.”

Bayman’s left hand roamed up the front of Christie’s outfit, caressing the swell of her breasts through his gloves and the camouflaged fabric. The front seam was held closed by Velcro which he quickly tore open. Christie wore a dark green bra which supported her generous breasts. Fingers that had diffused countless explosives effortlessly unhooked the front clasp. Bayman watched as Christie’s full orbs burst free, standing proudly on her toned chest. Bayman brought his left hand to his mouth, using his teeth to pull the glove from his hand. He reached up, cupping Christie’s warm flesh. Christie gasped as she felt his rough, calloused hands knead her breast, tweaking her nipple to attention.

Christie’s left hand unzipped Bayman’s fatigues, letting his manhood rise up. Christie could not see it, but her fingers described a long, solid and wondrously thick shaft that throbbed expectantly. Christie leaned down, laying down atop Bayman’s chest. Her face stopped mere inches from his. His combat knife still pressed lightly against her throat, and Christie slid her pistol up around to Bayman’s left temple. Her free hand guided him into her.

“Ahhh…oh…” Christie let out a long, luxuriating sigh.

“Nnngh.” Bayman groaned low in his throat as he felt Christie’s tight vessel envelope inch after inch of his rod. Smooth, warm and tight; he had never felt the like.

Christie began rolling her hips, tilting Bayman’s cock back and forth, now right and left. Her upper body remained almost totally still so as not to let the knife do any damage. Bayman’s thick flesh filled her sheath completely. She flexed her inner muscles, tightening down on the throbbing beast and bringing a powerful grunt from Bayman’s lips. Christie’s own breathing was heavy with pleasure. She churned her hips against his groin, enjoying the feel of his hot length as it churned within her.

Bayman’s left hand once again groped Christie’s breast. He desperately wanted to hold both of her lustrous mounds in his hands, but he could not risk lowering his knife while her gun pressed against his temple.

Christie’s left hand slid over the front of Bayman’s chest. She desperately wanted to tear open his fatigues and run her hands over his chiseled pectorals, but she could not risk dropping her gun while his knife still pressed up against her throat.

Their bodies soon resolved their problems for them.

Bayman could feel the pressure in his loins rising, threatening to boil over his self-control. Christie shook as a great thrill began to rise up from within her.

“Going to…” Christie’s voice was strained. “No…wait...”

“Can’t…nnngh…” Bayman gritted his teeth, fighting against it. “I…can’t…”

“God…oh GOD!” Christie’s pistol slipped from Bayman’s head just as her orgasm washed over her. Her body shook, muscles tightening all over. Her finger clamped down on the trigger, firing off a round into the nearby maintenance shed. The bullet ricocheted with a loud metallic screech.

Bayman’s knife slipped away from Christie’s neck as his climax erupted. He jammed the vicious looking blade into the roof as his hips bucked up into Christie. His eyes rolled over in excruciating pleasure.

Eventually they came to their senses. For a long moment they stared at one another, then at their weapons, both hopelessly out of position. Then they looked back at each other. The next moment, they were stripping as fast as they could manage. They pulled the clothes from one another’s bodies as fast as they could. Bayman rolled over, wearing only his beret and pined Christie’s nude body beneath him. His lips mauled her firm breasts hungrily, nipping and licking her nipples as she squirmed with pleasure.

There was the sound of booted feet.

They froze. They both looked at one another, realizing at once that someone had heard the ricochet of Christie’s pistol. In a moment, Bayman was on his feet. There was no time to dress or to mount any kind of defense. Christie grabbed their clothes, along with his knife and her pistol, into his duffle bag. Bayman grabbed his sniper rifle and slung it over his right shoulder.

“Where?” Christie looked around hurriedly for cover. The moonlight shone off of her glistening, sweat-soaked skin. Bayman had never seen such beauty.

He reached into a side pocked of the duffle bag and produced two black circular disks, each with a suction cup on one side and a handle on the other. Bayman slung the duffle bag over his left shoulder and they both headed to the edge of the roof. Eighty-nine stories below them, the city lights glimmered in the night. Bayman jumped, turning about in midair and slamming the suction cups against the glass window of the top floor.

They held fast. Bayman’s thick arms bulged as he lifted himself up, bringing himself up so that his arms were completely extended. He brought his legs up to brace his bare feet against the glass. His torso was now close to a yard away from the window, supported by his extended arms and legs.

Christie jumped down after him just as she heard the maintenance door open behind her. She dropped down between Bayman and the window, wrapping her arms around his thick neck. Bayman’s arms bulged with effort but they held on.

“You know,” Christie whispered. “You’re not half bad.”

“You seem competent as well.” Bayman whispered back huskily.

“You sure know how to make a girl feel special.” Christie licked her lips. “I’ve never made love on the side of a skyscraper before.”

“What?” Bayman asked in surprise.

“Shhh!” Christie half-giggled. “Try not to give away our position.”

Christie’s slender hand gripped his shaft. The pure adrenaline that came with such danger had already aroused him, and his hard length was prepared for duty. Christie lowered herself onto the pulsing organ.

“Ready for me, Bayman?” Christie purred as she mounted him. She cooed as the wide staff of flesh filled her tight, moist vessel to its fullest. Her long, smooth legs wrapped around Bayman’s lower back.

“Bring it.” Bayman growled back.

Christie’s lithe body undulated wildly against Bayman’s solid frame. Her lips descended on his, letting their tongues wrestle while their loins grappled ferociously. Bayman pounded his cock into Christie, slamming her up against the cool glass of the darkened window. Bayman reveled in the sensation of Christie’s full, luscious breasts pressing against his broad chest. Flesh against flesh, friction heating their bodies. Christie’s hands roamed down to grip Bayman’s buttocks, her fingers digging into the solid muscle.

“God! You’ve got a great...” Christie’s hushed whisper was overtaken by a choked cry of ecstasy as Bayman’s cock reared up into her, deeper than ever.

They heard the maintenance door open and close once again. The guards were gone, the threat had passed. The passion, however, had not.

“Keep bucking your hips like that!” Christie allowed her voice to rise, certain they were now alone once again. As Bayman’s loins collided with her own, Christie’s shapely buttocks slid around against the glass, squeaking loudly. She laughed aloud at the sound, a mad cackle of lust as Bayman thrust into her harder still. “Yes! That’s it! That’s IT! Oh…YES!!!”

“Nnngh! Ahhh! Yaaaa!” Bayman grunted with pleasure he had never thought possible. Christie rode him unlike any woman ever had. Her irresistible skill was evident in every twist and turn of her hips. Bayman’s rod was caressed masterfully with each squeeze and tug of Christie’s sheath.

They moved as one, anticipating each other’s movements and adding new rhythms without a word of explanation. The two assassins coiled together in ardent sex, dangling above the city streets. Their bodies, trained to deal death, had never felt more alive as they thrust and gyrated with uncanny cohesion.

Soon they felt their second climax begin to stir within them.

“Bayman! I’m going to come again!” Christie’s hands raked down his bare shoulders next to the duffle bag and rifle, clawing fine red lines in his skin.

“Yes…Christie…” Bayman thrust up into her as hard as he could, his arms straining against the suction cups. “Gragh! Here it comes!”

“Oh…yes…yes…” Christie’s moans grew with her pleasure. “Yes! Oh, BAYMAN!!!”

“AHHHHH!!!” Bayman’s head wiped back as his seed shot long and hard into Christie’s quivering body.

His blood running hot, Bayman scaled the short distance to the roof in seconds. Tossing the bag and rifle to the roof, Bayman grabbed Christie and pulled her into a fierce kiss. For a full minute they simply kissed, their bodies pressed tightly together. Two humans feeling one another’s warmth.

Christie lay down on her back, pulling Bayman down on top of her. They wrapped their arms and legs around one another, rolling across the roof much as they had before. This time, however, no punches were thrown. They stopped with Christie on top. She ran her hands over Bayman’s upper body, feeling the contours of his chiseled abdomen and the solid wall of his chest. Bayman’s hands slid up and down Christie’s silken thighs, roaming up and over her butt and around to her toned stomach, finally reaching her wondrously supple bosom.

Christie plucked Bayman’s black beret from his head and quickly plopped it over her own head, pulling it down over her dazzlingly white hair. Bayman’s shaft rose up once again, standing at attention just in front of Christie’s silver patched entrance. The organ throbbed, tapping against her impatiently. Christie reached down and began stroking him as she raised herself over him, lining up herself.

“For the glory of the motherland, comrade.” Christie mimicked the Russian’s own accent perfectly. “Show me what you can really do.”

Bayman grasped Christie’s upper arms in his hands and yanked down, impaling her on his waiting cock.

“Nnnnghhaa!” Christie flung her head back in ecstasy. “Hard! Yes!”

He sat up, shifting his arms under Christie’s arms and around her back so that his hands could grip the top of her shoulders from behind. They pressed together desperately, mouths meeting in a frenzy of lust. Christie leaned back, presenting Bayman her smooth mounds. His tongue lapped at her nipples, tasting the sweet flesh of her breasts while Christie moaned as his cock plunged into her again and again.

“Oh, god!” Christie shuddered with his every thrust. “I’ve…uughh!...I’ve always worked best…YES!!!...alone!”

“Ahhh! Unnngh…I too…” Bayman gasped for breath. “Prefer to work in…raaagh!....in solitude!”

Their bodies dripped with sweat, lubricating their naked flesh as they writhed jointly. Two vipers wrapped together in animalistic lust, each one of them a weapon unto themselves, now sharing intense pleasure and intimate knowledge.

“Oh! Yes! Yes…yes…YES!!!” Christie’s predatory eyes widened.

“I’m…” Bayman gasped. “I’m going to…oh…Nnnngh!”

“GOD! BAYMAN!” Christie screamed, her vessel clamping down on his shaft.

“CHRISTIE!!!” Bayman roared and his testicles clenched, ushering forth a deluge that erupted up into Christie’s inner depths.

They both convulsed in conjoined rapture as Christie’s passage pulled long and hard on Bayman’s gushing cock, its massive length plunged to the hilt in the assassin’s hot flesh. They collapsed in a sweaty heap, gasping for breath.

At last Christie sat up, her chest heaving. She looked down at Bayman who held her gaze.

“Partners.” They both uttered at the same moment.

The word was spoken with professional detachment. A temporary agreement had been reached. Then a wild gleam shone in Christie’s eyes, she reached up and adjusted Bayman’s beret with a flourish.

“Let’s keep working on this team unity training.” Christie grinned. “I think we’re getting somewhere.”

“I’m on top this time.” Bayman rolled over, bringing Christie underneath him.

“One condition.” Christie’s tongue licked Bayman’s lips.

“What?” Bayman positioned his thick rod at her welcoming entrance.

“I get to keep the hat.” Christie tapped his beret.

“Let me think about it.” Bayman did not smile.

Not exactly.


_______________________________________________________________________________________

Writer Commentary:


Straight out of the gate, I’ll tell you that this chapter is probably my favorite of the Beta Build series. Bayman and Christie might not be the most common of pairings in DOA fan fiction, but this was one of the concepts that motivated the Beta Build series in the very beginning.

The Beta Build series was my last real opportunity to introduce the remaining characters of Dead or Alive so, after introducing Jann Lee and consummating his relationship with Leifang, Bayman seemed like the next logical addition. Christie is one of my favorite DOA girls, and I love her femme fatale persona. Matching her with a seemingly heartless and ruthless mercenary was the only way to give Christie her due.

I wanted Bayman to be an ambiguous character; I didn’t want the reader to flag him as a good or bad guy immediately. He meets Christie in a pretty vicious fight that has them both in a check-mate position. Bayman has his knife at Christie’s throat while she has her gun to his head. The ensuing sex has a very real element of danger. Christie and Bayman are so accustomed to life-threatening situations that it doesn’t phase them at all, in fact the danger might turn them both on. It might be similar to some kinky game a couple might role-play, but these two are completely capable and willing to kill each other.

Their first climax takes them both by surprise, and the dynamic swiftly changes from antagonism to aggressive lust. Some guards show up so they both hide by taking cover on the side of the skyscraper using the old spy stand-by: suction cups. We’ve seen these things used a hundred times in action and espionage movies, so I thought it would complement the characters to adapt the spy cliché into a sex position. There’s a certain thrill that comes from the risk of sex in public places, the risk of being discovered. Here we have Bayman pressing Christie up against the glass window of a skyscraper and ravishing her high above a busy city in the dark of night. The location and style of the scene matches the very essence and background of the two characters; these are two pragmatic professional killers indulging their lust for one another. They aren’t in love in the traditional sense, heck they aren’t even friends. They are enjoying each other on a purely physical level which is all either of them can really offer one another. Ideally, it’s tragic and hot at the same time. Having Christie take Bayman’s beret gives a nice visual representation of their new relationship. That and I think Christie would look really hot with a beret.

There’s a subtle hint that something else might be developing between them as they both express their typical reluctance to work with anyone else. The erotic quality of this chapter is largely dependent on Christie and Bayman’s violent and deadly natures being juxtaposed against the warmth and passion of their lovemaking. These are two people who epitomize the loner, and here they are feeling a very human connection. But we don’t get any declarations of love. Instead they basically settle on a contract. Talk about mixing business with pleasure, huh?