"I think he went this way!" the officer yelled back to his men who went running in his pointed direction. Booker watched through the crack in the door and pushed it shut. He panted and slid down the door, letting one of his legs slide forward while he kept the other in. He laid his head against the door and closed his eyes, catching his breath. The winds in Columbia howled through the boarded up windows, making the tattered blue curtains that hung in front of them billow forward, light poured overhead from the giant glass skylight. He opened his eyes and looked around, had ran into a closed down shop, possibly the scene of a Vox attack. There were very few things in the shop aside form the main counter, the shelves along both walls laid torn, covered in broken remains of food and cans. There was a small table to his left near the door in front of another boarded up window. He got up off the floor dusting his pants and made his way behind the counter. He crouched down and looked around for anything useful. Behind a flour bag he found a brown bottle, he unscrewed the cap and sniffed it "Whiskey.." he muttered with a slight smile. Luckily for him, the previous store keeper was quite the drunkard.He caps the bottle and stands up straight looking over to where the table is and seeing a figure sitting there, being obscured by the billowing curtain. He reached down for his pistol and points it at the figure "I don't want any trouble friend." he said putting the bottle on the counter. "No trouble here." said a slick voice. The figure pulled the curtain back leaning forward, Robert Lutece. "Oh...you people again." sighed Booker lowering his pistol, "Where's the other one?" he said looking around the shop. "Just me this time." said Robert straightening up and pulling the curtain behind his chair. Booker grabbed the bottle off the counter, holstering his weapon, and walked over to where he was, pulling an overturned chair up to the table so he was directly across from him. He sits down unscrewing the bottle and taking a swing. He lets out a satisfied sigh and offers the bottle to Robert who declines. "So what's your game anyway? Who are you people?" Booker finally says putting the bottle down on the table. Robert takes off his coat and drapes it over the back of his chair "That's not really important now." he says folding his hands on the table. "What do you mean not important?! You show up everywhere, you never answer any of my questions, you talk in riddles, obviously there's more to you two than meets the eye!" Booker booms, resting his bandaged hands on the table. Robert reaches over and puts a hand over his, Booker pulls his hand away "Whoa, not in this universe pal." Booker says lowly his eyes fixed into Robert's. The sun catches Robert's eyes and they glow brilliantly blue, he looks away "In this one it is." he says to himself looking down at his hands and back up to Booker. "See that's what I'm talking about!" booms Booker again becoming upset. Robert gets up and walks around the table and stands in front of Booker, he kneels down to eye level "Reality is what you make of it, how you perceive it, and how you chose to go about it." he says reaching over to Booker and undoing the top two buttons of his shirt. Booker grabs Robert by the wrists stopping him from going on "I already said I don't go for that." he said someone hesitant. Robert smirks," That twinge of uncertainty in your voice says otherwise." he says coolly. Booker's eyes burn into Robert's, something in him screaming in some unintelligible language. Booker's hand shake slightly as his grip loosens on Robert's wrist. "It's not right..." he says slowly grimacing at Robert who remained stoic. "Right and wrong are directions for drivers." Robert snaps back and pushes past the tangle of hands, kissing Booker. Booker flinches and falls backwards with Robert falling over him. "Dammit!" he exclaims and pushes Robert to the floor and lays over him, kissing him and closing his eyes. Robert reaches up and pulls apart Booker's shirt exposing his chest, he presses him in closer as Booker bites at his neck. Booker gets up off the floor, pulling Robert with him and presses him against the wall pulling his leg up as he kisses his neck. Robert pulls his shirt open as his flesh presses against Booker's. They both pant as beads of sweat start to form on their bodies. Robert grabs at Booker's back gripping his shoulders. Booker's hands around Robert's ass as he grips him tightly against the wall. Booker kisses Robert's chest as Robert pulls Booker by the back of the head and kisses him. Booker's hand slips into the back of Robert's pants as he moans, Booker's scruff scratching against his face. Robert reaches up through the back of Booker's shirt and claws at his bare back, Booker holds him tightly grinding up and down against him. Robert's eyes sudden perk up as he looks off into the distance "Dammit..." he mutters letting go of Booker and pushing him back. "I'm sorry." Robert says in a saddened voice. He rushes over to his coat as Booker turns "What's wrong?" he asks out of breath as Robert puts on his coat. Robert pulls his shirt closed and starts to button it back up, he looks up at him and smiles "Sometimes the universe gives you a time limit." the chair that was holding back the billowing curtain tips sending a wave of blue curtain flowing forward. When the wind dies down, Robert is gone. "You see?! That's what I mean!" Booker bellows as he looks up to the skylight, his open shirt blowing in the wind.
