This is something that came into my mind and wouldn't leave me alone.
Lauren is a little OOC, if you don't like something like that, you shouldn't read this one.
Anyways, whereas I'm on Team DOCCUBUS, this actually is a Doccubus fanfiction.
Thanks and I hope you enjoy this.
(Yes I know, I keep uploading new stories without finishing the others, but I will finish every single one of them.)
Dienstleistung
Chapter 1
Bo was already late. Who would have thought that the word Rush Hour had nothing to do with Rushing at all. Or getting from A to B fast. She felt more like riding on top of a snail shell than in a 320 PS strong car on a highway.
Frustrated with the situation, she fumbled with the large selection of radio channels in the black Hummer she could get used to drive every day. This car was huge on both the in- and-the outside.
When she skipped back and forth, the sound of Marilyn Manson's Tainted Love found its way into the Orchestra of honking and the obtrusive reving of motors. Bo turned the volume up. Her black hat, she was forced to wear by the agency, left her head the second the car had been out of sight and was now laying on the dashboard.
Her dark brown hair was up in a ponytail and a few strands tangled in the light summer breeze coming through the windows she left open. Which was all four windows. She loved the wind sweeping across.
Playing with the countless buttons made her feel like being in a cockpit.
'Hello Ladies and Gentlewomen, my name is Bo Dennis and I am your pilot on the flight seven nine seven to Toronto airport. My crew and I are excited to welcome you aboard.'
Smiling, singing along the song and continuing to press buttons, she hadn't noticed the large gap between the Hummer and the vehicle in front of her, until an unfriendly permanent honking from behind distracted her. Traffic was moving. She pushed the gas pedal and the car burst forward with squealing tires.
The previously mentioned hat slid across and unfortunately out of the window of the passenger side.
"No! Shit!"
Bo tried to catch the item and nearly steered into the oncoming traffic. A heavy pounding heart and the small hairs on her forearms standing up in sheer horror were the result of that stunt show. With several calming breaths she adjusted her black sunglasses on her nose.
One look in the back-mirror, she could see the hats grand finale: The tires of a bus running over the black object. Resigned, her shoulders fell and she sighed heavily.
She couldn't afford to loose this job too. She needed it. Who else would pay her rent and her bills and buy food for her and her cat?
She moved out of her parents house forty nine weeks ago. More because she couldn't handle the way her father treated her mother than because she was urged to leave. Although her father made it crystal clear that she was on her own the second her pretty little backside stepped out of his front door. He had used harsher words, but the context had been the same. They had never had the best of relationships.
Since then she had six other jobs.
Her first one, at a dog parlor, lasted seven hours until that tiny little ass of a Chihuahua bit her in her left forefinger and wouldn't let go. Bo reacted out of instinct and shook her hand. Seconds grew into minutes and so that was the picture the owner of that little rat had seen her in. Hand shaking furiously in the air, yelling words of plain evil at the thing with its teeth still deep anchored in her skin.
That dump pedomotive-horn of a dog let go of her with the first shrill scream from the fat lady, who accused Bo to cruelty to animals.
Without a cent in hand but and a bleeding finger wrapped in a white towel, dappled red( she had to pay for it of course) Bo was kicked out with the nice sound of a 'don't you dare come back ever again' in her ears and the need for a tetanus injection.
The second job lasted a while longer. She was working in a store-refilling the shelves. One afternoon she found herself hanging head down first on a ladder. A few broken glasses of red cabbage laying on the floor, covering it with its purple content. A customer slipped and plunged into the sea of vegetables.
Bo tried to explain but all the manager had wanted back then, was her to be gone and immediately. Her back had hurt like shit and she couldn't remember how she ended up in that position on that god damn ladder but was kind of glad that she didn't clunk on the floor. That would have been ouch and urgh.
At least she received the salary minus the broken glasses of red cabbage for the seven days she had worked in the shop.
Her third try on the employment market had been embarrassing and kind of sudatory. She had to tout for a snack bar down the main road near her apartment building in a Wiener-costume. It was rather hot inside that disgusting piece of plastic and fabric, which smelled like the last guy had a serious problem, hormonally speaking.
The first dogs barking at her, only made her flinch a bit. But then there had been this tiny, short haired, pop eyed, spiky eared one. Dog number seven. A Chihuahua. She didn't mean to do it, but her extremities had worked on autopilot. So when her foot got into contacted with the animals small frame and it flew across the pedestrian area, squeaking, she ran.
Just for the record, running in a Wiener-costume sounded funnier than it actually was. Her legs had about forty centimeters for each step, so she wasn't surprised, when she rounded the next corner, she fell. Hard.
Good thing she had incredible bounceback-ability.
The next job, her fourth, she worked in a French fires stall. Her hair smelled like old deep-frying fat all the time and after seven weeks she couldn't stand it anymore. The skin of her face glittered all the time and it seemed impossible to wash off the layers the oily substance had built to fill up each and every pore. Her tiny one room apartment could get confound with a chip pan. Even her cat refused to cuddle anymore. So she quit.
Job number five left her aggressive and annoyed. Call center. Who invented that? A living hell of ringing phones, yelling reverberation on the receiving end of the line and no fresh air or daylight in that big underground office. But she took great pains to keep that job. Even though every end of shift her head hurt and a distracting tinnitus continued to get under her skin.
When she began to hear phones ringing back at home in the middle of the night, she knew she'd go insane if she kept doing that job.
Seven weeks later, she quit, again.
The last working condition was her favorite until that one day. She cashed up a young girl with short blonde hair who bought two bras. It was a lovely small boutique specialized on underwear. Bo was in a good mood. Finally everything seemed to work out right. Three months, two days and five hours. A new record.
The owner, a kind woman in her early fifties, adored Bo.
On said day, after the young girl had left, a greasy man in his late fifties came in. He was looking for a new sexy bra for his new lady lover. He made stupid jokes about his wife and that he had to pay cash so she wouldn't find out about his newest conquest. A lean, hot brunette, just like Bo, he laughed. And amazing in bed.
Bo felt like vomiting but kept a straight face. That was before he stood in front of her and lunged for her rack. Saying, he didn't know the size of his bedtime candy but her boobs looked like Bo's and he wanted to feel if it was about right.
Bo was flummoxed. She counted to ten. Better said, she tried to count to ten, but couldn't restrain her growing anger and at seven her fist connected with his face.
After a talk with her boss and the unavailing try to smooth the situation and the crying man holding his now bleeding nose, she was told to apologize and to leave the store. The old lady was done adoring Bo but told her about the need to talk to a therapist about her impulsive aggression and violent tendency.
Impulsive aggression her ass!
The next week had been one of left overs and water. Her last dollars went into cat food. Bane shouldn't suffer for her lack of adaptability.
Now she was driving this elephant of a car. A chauffeur office was searching for a new employee. A high esteemed family was in need for a new driver. Easy thing. Bo loved to drive, although she couldn't come up with enough money for a car of her own, but she had her drivers license and thought of herself as a good member of the road traffic- community. And to all of that, for a monthly pay she could only have been dreaming of.
The next exit ramp in four kilometers. Toronto airport wasn't far. She could actually make it in time, or at least with only a few minutes delay.
The motor roared in excitement. The snarl-up vanished into thin air and the black gelding she was riding could show off its power to the song Ring of fire blasting on highest volume out of the speakers of the front, middle and back console. Dolby surround in a car. The world was a happy place.
Smashing the brakes, Bo got the beast to a halt in the VIP parking space at her destination. Jumping out, she straightened her black blouse. She opened one extra button of the perfect fitting fabric, because she felt like Sex, Drugs and Rock n Roll after her jam session with Johnny Cash, and smoothed down her black dress pants.
One last grip inside the passenger door, Bo fished for her also black blazer, put it on, locked the car, the windows rolling up by themselves, and with a clipboard in hand headed through the glass door into the massive hall of the airport.
She was greeted with the sight of at least six other men in suits, each holding up a paperboard with big letters written on it. Bo stood in line, holding up her clipboard.
Lewis.
Sounded like an old, rich socialite. Some snotty little upstart, anything but what Bo saw walking up to her.
A woman wearing a black costume with a white blouse underneath some formfitting black blazer. Long blonde curls waving with every step she took. Black sunglasses with a silver frame hiding most of her face. A suitcase in her left hand and a briefcase in her right.
Bo was holding her breath. Her mouth fell open. She managed to take off her own sunglasses to get a better view. The woman couldn't be that Lewis person. She was gorgeous and her upright, strong strides testify to someone who knew exactly what they wanted.
"You're late!"
The goddess stopped in front of the brunette. Bo couldn't form coherent words right now.
"I said, you're late. I had to wait. I hate waiting."
Bo was fighting an inner battle to put herself together. The woman looking back at her cocked her eyebrows and frowned.
"Gosh, here take my things and lead me to my car. Do what you're getting paid for."
The blonde clashed the briefcase against Bo's chest, hard enough for her to stumble backwards, left her suitcase next to Bo and walked past.
The clock opposite on the wall screamed at her. Seven minutes late. Seven minutes. What was it about that number?
Bo turned and rushed behind the all-business-beauty.
Back in the car the brunette stored away the bags and got behind the wheel. She took the chance to look into the back-mirror. The blonde was sitting behind the passenger seat with her head against the headrest. The sunglasses tucked in the pocket of her blouse and the blazer was now neatly folded next to her on the backseat. Her eyes were closed, so Bo risked a longer glance.
The blonde looked tired, but that wouldn't diminish her elegance.
Soft, flawless skin with shades of rouge on her cheekbones. Long eyelashes covered in black mascara, a fine black eye lid line and gray shadows upon her lids added to the picture of that gorgeous human being Bo was looking at intensely.
Her lean throat stretched and her head slightly leaned to the right letting her hair fall naturally around her face like a golden frame. The white blouse unbuttoned just enough to reveal the delicate line of her collarbone and a hind of cleavage.
"Would you stop staring and start driving? You already made me late and I would appreciate to be able to have a nice, hot, but now rather short shower and some freshly brewed coffee before I have to get to my next meeting, thank you very much!"
Bo snapped out of her daydreaming and started the engine. The radio burst out, yet again on high volume. Where is my mind by the Pixies. Yup, suited.
With panic in her wide opened eyes, she was searching for the right button to turn off the music. The first opened the trunk, the second and third started the windscreen wiper. Back and front. Number four turned on the hazard flasher and finally the fifth was the one and only to end this obscure scenery.
The inside of the car fell silent.
Bo was breathing short and avoided to look back, afraid of the respond the blonde would launch into her.
"I do actually like that song."
Bos eyes focused on the back mirror again. The woman hadn't moved one millimeter. Her eyes still closed, features relaxed.
The brunette was about to reply, taking one final breath and opened her mouth, but was cut short by the blonde.
"But I do like silence about a trillion times more. So I would recommend you be more cautious with your work. You're at two strikes already. The first was making me wait, the second was the lack of seriousness when on the job, though I suggest number two led to number one. So if you want to stay in business, don't get a third."
Her voice held authority but was rather soft, slow and low.
Bo gasped several times, the right words, dude, get them out.
"Of course, Ma'am. It won't happen again. I really really need this job and I will do my very best to get you as comfortably as possible to your destination. I have to apologize, Mrs. Lewis."
"I'm not married."
The brunette couldn't think of a response.
"So Miss Lewis will do. Where is this old, guy that used to drive anyways?"
"Oh, you mean Mr. Clark. He is at the hospital. Heart attack, his wife an kids are..."
A grunt confused Bo in mid sentence.
The blonde was rubbing the back of her nose, shaking her head.
"Oh I am sorry, did that last part sound like I actually cared? My mistake. I don't. So if you please, please get this monster of a car moving? I would be very comfortable with the steady roar of its engine in my ears rather than your silly little attempt to have an actual conversation."
This Lewis person started to boil something inside of Bo and it wasn't nice and welcoming nor would it help in any way to keep her in this assignment. The blonde's head fell back and the woman shifted in her former position, eyes never once opened since sitting in the back, resting on the head support.
"Sure thing Miss Lewis."
The drive went on in absolute silence. Bo even managed to turn off the lady-voice of the navigation system. Luckily she had listened to that part of the instructions she had to get over with, when that guy back at the office spit out all those numbers and statistics of the Hummer H3 midsize SUV.
It's a classic Miss Dennis, and now that production ended it's limited. So treat her with respect and great care!
Blah blah, woof woof. They were talking about a car, not a baby or a kitten. She knew how to handle a car. Well, she knew how to drive. There were only two pedals to make use of that where relevant to stir from the spot, but all that electric and extra buttons? Who would need that much of equipment in a vehicle? Seriously?
It's all about getting from the place you started to the place you wanted to get to.
No need for that extra double size cap-holder which would slowly extend by pushing that one button next to that other button which regulated the air condition. What happened to the times you just needed to roll down your window, by hand, and, tah dah, air conditioning. That simple.
The blonde's eyes were still closed and a steady breathing could be heard as if she was asleep, but Bo knew better than that. The last time she looked back and thought the woman had been falling asleep she was scared to death by a voice exhorted her to get that air condition to stop blowing cool wind into her face.
Bos eyes grew wider with every kilometer they traveled and the more they neared the apartment complex of the woman in the back.
Bos eyes grew wide because of the change of the surroundings. She was living in Toronto since, well, ever, but she couldn't remember she had ever been to this part of town. Probably not.
Yorkville.
She had only ever heard about it. Expensive and noble and snobby and all those things Bo avoided only to find herself driving this big, fat Hummer as a chauffeur for a woman she barely knew or even wanted to learn more about the more time they had to spend together.
The blinking of the navigation system told her that she had just missed to turn right.
"Dammit."
Now she had to find a way to get back on track. Easier said than done. A Hummer of all cars? In the middle of the city? Really?
Fortunately the navigation system came up with a alternative route. Next right, then the second right and they would be back in the game.
"Maybe you should pay more attention to the job at hand, than the landscape, Driver."
"Yes, Miss Lewis. And it's Dennis. Bo Dennis."
"Oh, I'm not good with names of the service provider my father hires. Too many, lasting not long enough to care. So, Driver will do."
Bo had to bite her tongue. She really felt the urge to respond but thinking about her bank account and the empty stomach growling every now and then, she kept her mouth shut.
Bad people always get what they deserve. Always.
At least that's what she believed in. But when the apartment building got into view and the navigation system told her, she arrived at the destination, Bo had to rethink that statement about bad people. That was definitely not what she had in mind.
A skyscraper. A very high one. With a guy in a uniform on a red carpet at the front door.
Bo leaned forward to get a better view out of the windscreen.
"Woah."
The brunette whispered to herself and shook her head. Back to business, she forced herself to climb out of the car and rushed to the backdoor to open it for the woman waiting for her with her sunglasses and blazer back on.
Without a word the blonde walked through the big glass doors into the lobby. Bo had to hurry with the luggage to keep up. Nodding politely when passing the older man in his red suit jacket. He returned the friendly gesture with a tip on his hat and a question not asked glistening in his green eyes.
"I've lost it."
Holding his forefinger in the air, he stepped back into a small side door only to return seconds later with a black hat in hand, like the one Bo should have worn.
"Take this one, lady, and keep it. The Lewis family is very old fashioned in every way possible. Oh and, that blouse, button up."
He pointed at Bos chest.
"Thank you, uh..."
Bo stepped closer and read the name plate.
"Bob. I'm Bo."
"You're welcome. And now get in there, Bo. Don't make her wait. She had fired service staff for less than that."
Nodding again and with a serious face Bo walked into the main lobby.
The blonde was about to step inside the elevator when Bo joined her again. The doors closed and yet again they fell silent. A young girl, also in the same uniform Bob was wearing, pressed the button above all the others. Loft, was written on it.
So the rich and famous couldn't even flex one finger to push a button? They need someone to do that for them? Boy, wasn't this the 21st century?
It seemed like an eternity when finally the large cabin came to a halt. The girl with her black hair also tied in a ponytail just like Bo tipped a few numbers on a key field. When Bo was thinking about it, all the other female staff she had seen on her rush to the blonde business woman had the same hair style. Maybe that was one of the conditions for recruitment.
With a soft ping the steel made elevator doors opened and she found herself standing in a large hallway. The ceiling must have been about ten meters high and a window front on the right, stretched out along the hall from the elevator up to a massive black door on the opposite and opened up a perfect view of the city. Bo yet again stood in awe with mouth slightly opened, consuming the sight of a perfect summer day on the outside.
"Driver!"
Bo flinched. She had to stop that staring and zooming out- thing. With a few fast steps forward she stood in front of the black door next to a frowning blonde.
"You can daydream and stuff when you're at home or... where ever. Now listen carefully. You are not allowed to enter that door. Those are my private quarters and nobody, I repeat, nobody has my permission to get inside unless I've told them otherwise. Understood?"
Bo nodded, looking the blonde straight into the face. She wore that damn sunglasses again and Bo saw her reflection in the small mirrors.
"Good. Now you are supposed to wait here. Take a seat or whatever. I'll be back again in about forty five minutes and I would appreciate a decent cup of coffee I am not able to get myself because of your miserable time management."
Miss Lewis held out her hand. Bo blinked, not sure what to make out of it. What a handshake? A bit late for that.
"My bags?"
Ah, anything else wouldn't have made sense. This person didn't seem to do formalities with anyone less than the queen herself. Bo handed her the suit- and briefcase and nodded once again tipping her hat.
"Ma'am."
That's when the other woman dropped her right forefinger onto a control surface. A blue line was scanning her fingertip until a buzzing sound followed by a click of a lock opening that broke through the silence. Without any other interaction the door fell into its frame after the blonde walked through and left a puzzled brunette to herself.
"Yes Ma'am, sure Ma'am, what ever you demand Ma'am. Gosh!"
Bo shook her head. This job wasn't what she had thought it would be. She had to behave around your highness and maybe was in need to learn to curtsy. But at first she needed to get that coffee.
Standing in front of the elevator again. Waiting. How long could it possibly take for an elevator to get up here? She took a look at her watch on her right wrist turned around on the underside. She wasn't someone who floated with the current. Her black Ice-Watch however, stood still. She tipped her forefinger against the glass.
"Oh come on. Don't leave me hanging."
The signs had been there in the past three days. At some point she could have realized that the watch was about to give up the ghost. Although she couldn't even remember if she had ever exchanged its battery. Not since she bought it that winter two years ago as a gift for Christmas for herself, because her family had never celebrated or exchanged presents on any occasion.
She was proud of her watch. The first item she got herself of the money she had earned. She had cleaned several hallways for older women in her neighborhood.
A now familiar ping got her out of her mind and back to the present. Stepping inside the large cabin she pushed the button for the exit.
"Ma'am, that is my job. You don't have to do it."
Bo looked up into blue eyes and a friendly smiling face. The girl she rode up with the last time was staring back at her.
"Sorry, but I'm not used to someone doing that kind of job for me. I'm Bo, by the way."
They shook hands.
"Lena. You're the new driver."
It was a statement, not a question. So Bo just forced a smile.
"Yeah, I am. Never thought it would be that... exciting."
"I wouldn't switch position with you for a thousand dollars. Pushing buttons isn't the best work to do, but I need the money for college and they pay me well. And I can avoid those fancy-schimancy crowd, or at least only have to be around them for a few minutes."
The cabin came to a halt on the lower-level and the doors opened to a busy lobby filled with service staff carrying luggage and business men and women in suits and costumes heading out of conference rooms or standing in crowds waiting for something Bo couldn't put a finger on.
"So, I guess we'll see each other around more often, now."
Bo was about to step out when she heard the girl whisper an I hope so.
Strange people. Why did they tell something like that all the time? It couldn't be that hard to be a driver for this family.
Bo maneuvered herself through an ocean of black and white business-style persons to the entrance. Bob was standing on the same spot she last saw him. The side of his head shimmered of a thin film of sweat, he was staring down on the floor.
"Hey, Bob. You okay? You look- pale."
The older man snapped out of his thoughts and locked eyes with the brunette who placed her hand on his right shoulder. Nodding he swallowed.
"Yes, uhm, Bo was it? I just, I guess I need some black hot coffee to refill my empty caffeine tanks."
Bo squeezed his shoulder one last time.
"Wow, good thing I am actually heading to the next coffee shop for the blonde devil..."
Bob's head was scanning the area. Leaning into Bos personal space he whispered.
"Shht! You shouldn't call her names. Not here. The walls have ears and eyes are also everywhere."
Bo shrugged.
"So, Bob, tell me, where can a girl get that black liquid of happiness?"
Bob described the way to Miss Lewis favorite Italian coffee shop. It would take Bo about twenty minutes to get there and back again. She had to hurry, yet again. She rushed to the doors of the black beast still parked up front. While opening the door she froze in movement.
"Shit, dammit. Bloody, fucking shhhh-"
Closing the door again, she hopped back to Bob, leaning to his left ear.
"I do have a problem, Bob. I've forgotten to ask this Lewis girl about the way she liked her coffee. And I have to admit, as much as I dislike the way these people treat their employers, I need this job. I don't want to offer another opportunity for them to spit bitchy remarks my way."
Bob smiled at Bo.
"There are two possibilities. First is black hot with one fake sugar, second is frozen black with a spoon full of caramel flavor. Maybe you should get both of them, if she didn't mention anything else."
With a kiss on the scraggy concierges left cheek Bo ran back and drove off. This time she wasn't going to mess up.
Tell me what you think. Review, PM, Twitter (adrenaLYNN1986), whatever, wherever. Thanks