Patrick was excited to show the immobile and mute girl the clothes he bought for her.<br/><br/>He had guessed on her sizes, but erred on the side of small, so if anything, more skin would show.<br/><br/>Out of the bag came skimpy lingerie, tank tops, a couple of bikinis and some sundresses. Patrick held each item up for her to see, as if it was a wedding shower. He was clearly very happy and proud of his purchases, making little comments about how each item was going to look on her.<br/><br/>She couldn't respond, of course, which was fine with Patrick. For now, he was perfectly fine with getting no verbal input from Ice aside from heavily muffled grunts. The one-way conversation didn't seem to bother him.<br/><br/>Patrick didn't even bother to notice or take into account the kidnapped girl's less than enthusiastic reaction to the clothes. It was as if what she thought didn't matter. Which it didn't.<br/><br/>"You'll notice that I didn't buy any shoes. Not even flip flops," Patrick said, smiling. "You will be barefoot all the time, Ice. It pleases me. But I promise to take good care of your feet, my love. I will even paint your toenails in the color of your choice."<br/><br/>With that, Patrick went to Ice and kissed her on the tape, where her mouth was supposed to be. "I'm so happy that we're finally together. I didn't like you working in a bar, anyway. Too many creeps," he said, in what may have been the most cruelly ironic statement in history.