>>85 I highly recommend starting with Lolita, and from there it's going to be a matter of personal taste. Laughter in the Dark is more of a screenplay than a novel, but still very good. Ada is my personal favorite, but its prose is even more purple than Lolita's, so it's not for everyone. Only for people that love books like black forest cakes, books that almost make you sick, they are so sweetly dense. Back to our regularly-scheduled psychodrama, already in progress. -=-=-=- PART XV He was not shocked when the Spy lifted him bodily, cradling him like a child, though the two men were not much differently-sized. He let himself be laid on the bed’s bare mattress, let his blindfold be removed. He was exhausted, and craved the tenderness more than dignity. “Do you feel better?†Spy was stroking his forehead. Sniper didn’t answer, merely sat up and salvaged his hat from where it lay. Settling it on his head, he noticed the wadded red balaclava on the floor. He picked that up, too. “Want this back?†“No, merci. I have plenty.†Sniper held it to his nose before tucking it into a vest pocket. Sandalwood. “And to the winner, go the spoils,†Spy murmured. Guilt pricked at Sniper, and he turned towards the voice, floating above the indent on the mattress. What he had done with—to—the Spy was new to him; all that rage and helplessness was something he kept tightly screwed into jars, as deep in his psyche as he could shove it down. He had lost control, and it had emptied him out. “Are you staying here?†Sniper asked. With me? he added, unspoken. “Yes. I cannot leave, any more than you can. Not until the snow melts or we are freed somehow. I spent last night in this very room, in fact. Listening to you. Well, you and the boy.†Spy’s voice was casual—carefully so. Sniper imagined him examining his gloves. “His room is on the other side of that wall.†Sniper said nothing. He had a sense of having expected this, and wondered how he had convinced himself nothing would come of it. “Listen, we—†he began shakily, “you and me never agreed to anything, this wasn’t…y’know…this isn’t—†“Cher, do I really need to lower myself—lower both of us, actually—to explaining, in detail, why it would distress me, listening to you noisily rutting a fresh-faced co-ed? Please, consider my position: cowering in the very creche of the enemy, on a bare mattress, in a cold room, with only an extended soundtrack of betrayal to keep me company? Please,†he said again, and lit a cigarette, the flame flaring for a moment beyond the cloak. “I am a professional. Not an automaton.†His exhalation was melancholy. “I do not know why I exposed myself to you again, here, just now. I suppose I missed you. I assume you did not use protection with him?†“Well, we didn’t do anyth—†“Please! Spare me these awful details; do not relive your conquest on my account. It is just that I know things about your scout, things that make me fear for the medical records of your entire team.†“He’s not like that; he wouldn’t be—†“What? Fucking someone else?†Spy laughed mirthlessly. “Were you ever a twenty-year-old boy? Of course he is fucking ‘someone’ else. Dios mio, the things I have seen in this base put our discreet indiscretions to shame. Do you have any idea, any idea whatsoever, what sort of material an agoraphobic pyromaniac keeps around to amuse himself on long winter nights? You do not, because you are not criminally insane. As for your scout, I believe if the rest of the team weren’t a swarm of faggot-lynching paysans, he would simply take his door off its hinges and hang a red lantern in the hall. He embarrasses even the Burroughs novels he reads to the mirror.†Spy was chuckling now, almost affectionately. Sniper felt sick. “Non, non. Take your head out of your hands. Mon dieu, but you are adorable.†Spy laid a phantom limb across the gunman’s shoulders. “You will agree that we must do what it takes, to make things right between us. Unless you wish to end this. I would understand, of course, but…you are so valuable to me…†A warm glove took Sniper’s chin, and as he watched, the cloak evaporated. His spy was there, but dressed in blue, gazing at him. Nonsensically, he realized how the blue of his eyes clashed with the blue of his mask. But it was the same man, only cleaner and better-shaved than he should be, under the circumstances. “Cameras—?†“They are in black and white.†“But our spy is in respawn; if you run into someone, they’ll know.†“We will not go far.†Spy took a drag, twinkling, and passed the cigarette to his lover. “Go and reconnoiter the hallway; see if anyone is there.†Sniper did. Empty in both directions, and quiet but for voices from the distant mess. Medic’s office door was closed at the far end. “All clear.†Spy glided into the hallway, taking Sniper in his wake. “Where we going?†In reply, Spy reached out, and knocked gently on Scout’s door.