“Change. Now.”

“No! I like it!”

“You freak. Change now!”

“No!”

Konya glared at him hard, “Change or I’m not taking you to look through the last half of those files today.”

Bing. Konya hit the nail. Dareka glared death at Konya as he left down the hall to the bedroom to change.

Konya let out a sigh after he left the room and fell into one of the chairs. “You know, Sarah, you could do without encouraging his fashion ideas…”

“Why?” the woman asked, serving up the brownies nicely onto a big metal serving plate. “If it’s his fashion, what do you have to be worried about? It’s not like he’s going to make you wear it.”

“That’s not the point!” he hissed.

“Then what is?” Sarah asked, not stopping her work. “You bitch everyday about how no one takes your language abilities to heart…” She paused, “You can speak ten languages and yet have no friends. Then this boy shows up and you act like he’s from hell, out to make your life miserable.”

Konya looked away, not wanting to answer.

“Brooding like a child won’t solve anything.” She said.

Konya turned to her, “I’m not brooding!”

She looked to him, her eyes piercing right at him like knives. “Why does he want to look through those records?”

Konya gulped and shrugged, turning his eyes away. “No idea.”

“What sort of bargain did you make with him?”

“Huh?”

“We both know, you’d never do anything unless it has a high amount of benefit for you.” Sarah answered, slamming her knife into its hold. “So what is it? He’ll fuck you, get you friends…? What is it? What is his payment for you doing this for him?”