disclaimer: I don't own ASOUE

A/N: so ... i never thought i'd write this pairing but somehow i wrote it anyway ... a brief scene of that's actually canon compliant in a way

It was – it was wrong. All of it. Esme wasn't even sure why they ended up in this goddamn position yet again, gasping for breath as they kissed, the taste of Kit's lips satisfyingly delicious to the point that there had to be something wrong about it.

Well, not wrong in the sense of morally wrong or sinful because no, Esme never really cared about something as boring, and totally not in at all, as morals. It was just – Kit Snicket was everything she thought she didn't want, everything she despised and scoffed at – self-righteous and judgmental of people for being 'not noble enough', yet totally manipulative herself and not hesitant at all in dirtying her hands and committing crimes if she thought her ends justified the means.

What a hypocrite. Honestly, hypocrisy wasn't in at all.

Esme could picture herself dating simple-minded, easily-manipulated idiots who were innocent to the point of naïve, probably for financial gains or similar reasons. She could also imagine herself dating fellow villains willing to steal and murder and commit arson with her, and enjoying every minute as they broke the law.

But somehow, it was Kit Snicket – who frowned at her valuing money and fashion over VFD rules, who told her murder and arson was wrong and then turned around to orchestrate the death of Gregor Anwhistle's death – that Esme was having secret rendezvouses all over the city with.

Secret rendezvouses that always seemed to involve kissing and sometimes more.

If Kit could be more open-minded, if she'd just learned to enjoy the crimes while committing them like Esme did, it would've been much easier.

God, why did they even continue this arrangement at all, Esme wondered for not the first time, as she bit onto Kit's lower lip with slight force.

Then, all of a sudden, Kit twirled her around, and before Esme could react, she felt something pressing at her temples. Instinctively, Esme reached for her own handgun that she'd usually hidden beneath her extravagant and stylish her outfit, only realizing it wasn't there. Her eyes darted to the left and from peripheral sight, she realized that it was her handgun that Kit was holding.

Okay, so maybe this was why. Graceful and agile like a cat, sharp and competent and not to be trifled with, a fresh breath of competence in comparison of some other VFD members. If she could've just abandon her stupid morals, it would've been almost ideal, Esme lamented to herself.

"Where is the sugar bowl?" Kit's asked sharply, and it just made Esme want to laugh.

"And why should I tell you?" Esme drawled, lazy and unconcerned, if only slightly impressed that Kit figured out that she had it.

"Hand it over," Kit responded, her voice icy. Esme liked Kit's voice, especially in times like this. There was something that made it pleasant to her ears, almost like an artwork in a way. Music came and went, songs became in and then got out of style again, but Kit Snicket's sharp, cold tone, low and dangerous and almost sexy, would never fail to be musical to her. Still, dangerous as she might sound, Esme knew it was more bark than bite.

"Or you'll shoot me?" Esme laughed openly at that, unable to hide her amusement. "I don't think so, darling. You wouldn't dare. You're too noble for that, Snicket."

Kit's eyes narrowed, but her hand remained steady as she pushed the gun against Esme a little harder. "You know what I'm capable of," she hissed. "I don't enjoy it, Esme – I'm not you – but I do know when it's necessary. Some things are bigger than all of us."

"Like the sugar bowl?" Esme feigned surprise. "It's actually quite small, I could hold it with one hand –"

"Figuratively," Kit snapped. "Hand it over."

"How would you answer to your precious conscience if you were to kill a person over a simple object?" Esme purred, reaching out a hand to run her index finger along Kit's cheek. "Or have I finally managed to corrupt you, darling? I'm pleased."

Kit glared, and slowly lowered the gun, Esme knew that she'd won. "I thought so," Esme smirked pleasantly, grabbing the gun back, and kissed Kit again – oh how enjoyable her self-righteous fury tasted.

Kit pulled back, determined not to give in to the pleasure of her body, but Esme knew that they both couldn't deny how they were extremely compatible physically. With a parting sneer, Kit turned on her heels and left the Esme's house swiftly, slamming the door behind her.

Esme rolled her eyes. She supposed she'd waited another week or two before she got horny again to arrange for another date. Kit Snicket was infuriatingly hypocritical, but despite how their morals clashed, their bodies were more than compatible.

But in the meantime, maybe she should take measures to further secure the sugar bowl, if Kit and her idiotic associates had their eyes on it.

Esme picked up her phone. "Olaf, I need you to go to you-know-where to check if it's safe and add more security to it tomorrow."

Outside the house, Kit stealthily hid beneath the window, her eyes calculating and focused. Having heard what she'd wanted, she quietly left.

Few streets away, she found a telephone booth and dialed back to her own home. "L? Could you ask B to follow O tomorrow after their morning meeting at headquarters ends?"