This is an JazzXOC story for Genesis of Giovana (aka BlackFlurryOfSnow). And it's het! XD

Warnings for references to alcohol, drugs and violence, implied prostitution. The song used at the beginning is called Goodnight Moon by the band Shivaree.

She leaned back against the cold, brick wall and tilted her face up to the sky, sighing. It was a different sort of atmosphere than she was used to, but sometimes it was nice to get away. Not too far away, of course; she could still hear the drunken laughter and slurred compliments coming from inside the brothel, the smell of smoke and alcohol and cheap perfume. But out here, stretched across the length of the narrow back alley with nothing but the stars to keep her company, there was a kind of peace you didn't get anywhere else.

Although, peace wasn't always what she wanted. Moments like this reminded her that she was alone in the world, an orphan and a refugee stranded in a strange country with a price on her head and blood on her hands. If they knew who she was she wouldn't be here…

She sighed again, words coming to her lips without her bidding them there. It was a song she hadn't heard in years, her brother's favorite, and the tune was still familiar – a sad, lilting sort of melody that seemed more befitting the moment than the men bickering across the street.

There's a nail in the door,
And there's glass on the lawn.
Tacks on the floor,
And the TV is on.
And I always sleep with my guns
When you're gone.

There's a blade by the bed,
And a phone in my hand.
A dog on the floor,
And some cash on the nightstand.
When I'm all alone the dreaming stops…
And I just can't stand.

There was movement up ahead of her, a shadow crossing the mouth of the alley, and she stopped singing.

"Hello?" A man asked, and she smiled at the familiar voice. It was really only a matter of time before he showed up here.

"I'm not workin' tonight," she called. "Go try across the street."

The man walked forward a few steps until she could see his face, cast into sharp relief by the full moon above them. "A girl like you shouldn't be out here alone this time of night. They haven't caught that murderer yet."

She had to admit, she was impressed by his ability to sound aloof and concerned at the same time. "Yeah, well, a girl like me can handle herself."

He stopped just in front of her, one hand on the brick wall. "I guess you'd have to, living in down here." She nodded and slid the garter down her thigh just enough to reveal the handle of the knife she kept there. He smirked. "So what's your name?"

"Aeris," she answered, wondering inwardly if she'd ever get used to that part of the lie. "And you're Jazz."

Too late she realized that should have been a question.

Jazz raised an eyebrow. "Have we met?"

She tilted her head up so the moonlight could glint in her eyes. "You're just so popular, it's hard not to know who you are."

He snorted. "Notorious, you mean."

"Whatever gets you noticed."

"So where're you from, anyway? Out east?"

She frowned, reaching up to fix the hair piece that covered the white bangs on her forehead. "What makes you think I'm not from around here?"

"'Cuz I'm out here all the time; we would have had a run-in before now." Jazz nodded toward the brothel behind them. "And, no offense, but you'd be kinda hard to miss."

"Harmonia."

"What?"

"You wanted to know where I'm from, there you go. Harmonia."

Now it was his turn to frown. "Where they've been having that great big revolution?"

"Yep."

"Saints, no wonder you can handle yourself down here. All we've been hearing from them is death and murder and assassination-scandal-gossip."

Aeris snorted, tossing her head. "Yep – home sweet home."

"I hear the whole royal family's dead."

She paused and glanced up at him, wondering if there was a double meaning behind those words. "There were rumors going around that the princess escaped."

"What was her name again?"

"Atonal." It came out harsher than she'd intended.

"Yeah, Prince Crescendo was talking about a search party when she disappeared. He was worried the whole country would collapse without at least one of the royals there to get them under control, and I guess they all liked the princess okay."

She shrugged. "She didn't take shit from anyone, that's for sure."

"I'm surprised she lives as long as she did."

"Why?"

"That magic kills faster'n you'd think." He paused and added, "I've got some friends dying of it back home."

"She was born with it, it wouldn't hurt her."

"Yeah, that's what they said about her brother, too, but look what happened to– "

Her eyes flashed and Jazz stopped mid-sentence, not sure what he'd said wrong. "The magic had nothing to do with that. It wasn't his fault he had to live in such a messed up family that didn't care who they got killed."

"You know something I don't?"

She sighed. "Nothing I want to share."

"I can respect that." He leaned against the wall and glanced up, gauging the height of the moon in the sky. "So can I walk you home?"

"What makes you think I've got a home?"

"You've got to belong somewhere, and it's a little late to be going around here by yourself no matter how many knives you're carrying. 'Sides, I've got nothing better to do," he looked her up and down, "especially when there's a pretty girl like you thrown into the equation."

Aeris held out her hand almost daintily and Jazz helped her to her feet, waiting patiently as she dusted the grime away from her dress. "It's not far."

He took her elbow, smiling. "Lead the way, then."

They made their way down the shadowed streets, away from the fighting and the laughter, until they turned a corner and came face-to-face with a locked door. Aeris pulled away and dug around for her keys as Jazz fought the urge to blush.

"Er… where do you keep stuff in that thing, anyway? Not, uh, not much room for pockets."

She smirked over at him, fitting the key into the lock. "How does that saying go? Necessity is the mother of invention?" She moved into the house and felt around for the box of matches on the table, not turning around even when she heard the dull thud of the door shutting behind them.

"Nice place."

She snorted and stuck a match. "You can't even see it yet."

"No, but it's warm; that's something. And it smells nice."

She went around the room in a circle, lighting candles and dusting off furniture despite the fact she claimed to be as far from self-conscious as you could get. "Sorry there's no fireplace, but feel free to make yourself at home."

"I don't mind," Jazz murmured, settling down on the ragged sofa. She could feel his eyes on her. "So, uh, this is going to sound so weird, but…"

She looked at him. "Not a whole lot could sound weird after the week I've had."

"I've been having dreams about you."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, every single night. And I have no idea why. As far as I know we've never even met, but I keep seeing you like it's just the most natural thing in the world."

"How do you know it's me?" She tried to keep the hopeful tone out of her voice.

"I thought at first it might be a coincidence, but, like I said, you're pretty hard to miss. And... I don't know, there's just something about you; it's like I'm supposed to be here."

Aeris sat down on the other side of the sofa, body angled carelessly toward him. "And what so you suppose you're supposed to be doing here?"

Jazz shrugged. "Meeting you, I guess."

She brought one leg up to brush against his, trying hard to hide the smile that kept hinting at her features. "You wanna know what I think?"

"That I'm totally crazy and I should get the hell out of your house before you call the guards?" He laid the palm of his hand across her ankle, suddenly fascinated with the weight of the small, delicate bones. It was almost as if he thought the gesture might keep her from being angry.

"No." He didn't answer, eyes still fixed on the white skin under his fingers. "I think it sure took you long enough to find me."

His head snapped up and she grinned at the look on his face. "What?"

"You didn't think I was just screwing with you, did you? I mean, of course there was a reason."

"So you mean you've been doing that on purpose?"

She slipped off her high-heeled shoes and settled her other foot in his lap. "Hhn… yeah. Every once in a while magic turns out to be good for something."

His eyes widened. "Wait, wait, wait. You have been using magic to go into my dreams every night just to… what? Just to see me?"

"Don't flatter yourself– " though, really, she hadn't quite figured out why she did it either– "It gets lonely out her at night all by myself, that's all."

"So that's a yes, then. You do just want to see me."

She stuck out her bottom lip in a sort of half-pout, slightly annoyed at the way Jazz had both eyebrows raised, all confusion gone. "Well if I do then it's your fault. Tes yeux, j'en rêve jour et nuit." Which maybe wasn't totally true given her insomniac nature and the recent weeks' worth of sleepless nights, but he didn't have to know that.

"You know French?"

She blinked. "How did you know that?"

"Frederic jabbers in French when he gets upset… although not usually in that tone of voice." He smirked over at her and began fiddling with the clasp on her other heel.

"No one's ever complained about my bedroom voice before." He let the shoe drop to the floor.

"Who said I was complaining?"

She laughed aloud and the leer on his face changed to a genuine smile. "So you know that now I finally got you here I can't just let you go, right?"

"My, are you suggesting I stay the night with you?"

"Suggesting isn't exactly the word I would use there."

He stretched out, pretending to be considering her offer. "I don't know, I've got a lot of work to do…"

"Right. That must be why you were wandering around dark alleys behind whorehouses at three in the morning."

This time it was Jazz's turn to laugh. "Well gods, how can I argue with that logic?" He reached over to pull off the gilded hair clip and she let him, doing nothing to hide the white curls that cascaded across her shoulders. "You know something?"

"What?"

"I think I like you."

'Tes yeux, j'en rêve jour et nuit' roughly translates to 'I dream of your eyes every day and night.' Yeah, I know. Everything always sounds better in French.