Alriiiiiightaaaayyyy, let's get this hooker on the road. :)

This story is based in ScarlettBlush's 'in the moonlight, on a joyride' Modern!AU Library-verse. You know...if that makes sense...If you want this story to make sense later, read that first and it'll give you a background on the setting and an idea of what a real story is like, for this is my first crack at it, so, yeah...don't kill me...

If you just wanna get to the story, by all means, please, skip my useless babbling, I don't mind. :)

I hope it'll be interesting enough for y'all to review, but I'm not exactly gonna stop just 'cuz no one does. I'm a man (girl) of my word! And once I start something, I don't stop until I finish it. And y'all best believe ima finish this hooker. (apologizing for potty mouth)

It's dedicated to the two special ladies in my life! -Suggestive eyebrow waggle-

Only the two best writers i've ever had the fortune to know.

ScarlettBlush-I AM STILL NOT WORTHY. But I've uploaded the first chapter in your name, for you are my broski, and I miss you because you've vanished into the evile that is 'The Real World'. XD

-And-

sianikins-I AM NOT WORTHY HERE EITHER. But I thank you for giving me the confidence to go through with this, and giving it another quick read through before I went and did the unthinkable.

This is for you, ladies. :D (And maybe, on a much lesser note, all you crazy Halex fangirls/boys [I DOUBT IT, I JUST LIKE BEING THOROUGH] that deemed this story worthy of reading...maybe...)

Oh, and the song that inspired this process is 'The Ballad of Michael Valentine' by The Killers. Go listen to it, for it is awesome.

6/2/12

Hey! Since i'm a perfectionist and love you all, I got betas upon betas to help me with this story! So here's the infinitely better version! Hell, I even needed to edit my damn A/N, that's how bad this was, and if you still commented/liked this story, I love you lots and dedicate this to you as well, because you're all sweeties and I shower you with internet rainbows.

DAMN IT JIM, IM A DOCTOR, NOT A FAN-FICTION WRITER! :)


To say Hank was smitten was a gross understatement.

According to Angel, he was drop-dead-at-one-look-take-me-now-you-blond-sex-god in lust.
Sometimes Hank wondered why he was taking advice from the person who used the terms, "it was like watching octopuses mate..." Angel smacks him out of his reverie and tells him to pay attention to the insurmountable task at hand.

"This aint no picnic Hank!"

Oh.

Like Hank had delusions that they were actually engaging in picnic-like endeavors at the freaking mall. And she had the gall to insult him when she had brought the enemy into their nest. He was more than a bit insulted, actually, and then he remembered that his newfound friendship with Angel was a series of scathing reality checks that went hand in hand with her protecting him like a mother hen at the helm of battle, ever ready to literally claw the eyes out of any and all foes who dared mess with her brood.

She knew Hank despised all things violent, but she also knew that should he ever need to, he'd beat all up on 'em on her behalf. Sometimes, he was impulsive, if the bruise on Erik's chin was any indication.

"But, Charles, I'll never see you again if you go on that lunch date! Remember 'La Llorona'? He's La freaking Llorona! I won't let you do it!" Hank protests.

"But Hank, we talked about this. He's kind of my boyfriend now," Charles comments to Hank while re-arranging books via Shaw's ridiculous codes.

"He's like, thirty! Thiry, Charles!" Hank hisses.

"Nice try, but he's only around 20. I forgot the exact number," Charles counters.

"Charles, please? What if he's like, one of those 'get to know you' serial killers? What if-What if-", Hank begins, only to be abruptly thrust back into reality by Charles' left hand colliding with his face.

"Breathe Hank. Come on, there's a good man." Charles smiles, despite just having slapped Hank back into reality, and goes back to his library shuffle work, not noticing Hank running towards where he knows Erik was eavesdropping,

"GAHH!" Hank yells out, finding his intended target.

"Hank, where are you-Hank!" Charles yells, voice filled with panic instantly knowing something is off when Hank is nowhere to be seen.

"What the bloody hell, you dummkopf!" Erik bellows a few rows away.

"I'LL KILL YOU FIRST!" Hank bellows, latching onto Erik.

"HANK, GET OFF HI-"Charles yells out once again, finding both Hank and Erik trying to kill one another.

"Hank, control yourself, man! I'm not going to kill Char-" Erik tries reasoning with Hank, to no avail.

"FOR NARNIAAAA!" Hank yells out, grabbing the nearest object and getting ready to impale Erik on said object, knowing what he's saying is ridiculous, but hey, he loved movies, and had always wanted to say that at some point in time.

"HANK! DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT USING THE CHAIR! PUT IT DOWN NOW!" Charles orders.

And then Hank gets tackled by Scott, is banned from the library for 2 weeks, and is forc-asked by Herr Shaw to read up on Anarchism and its negative effects on society and how Shaw will not tolerate that kind of hippy skippy behavior in his institution.

Charles gives him the silent treatment for three weeks.

Erik thinks it's hilarious.

Asshole.

He meets Angel in the third week of Charles' vow not to speak to him until he apologizes to Erik.

Like Hell.

So here he is in the magazine section, trying to read up on his favorite 'Popular Mechanics' issue, while formulating a plan to simultaneously get Charles to talk to him again, kill Erik without leaving any evidence and Alex, the library delivery guy, to notice him and make out with Hank on the fourth floor of the library.

When out of the blue, Angel comes and sits next to him.

Hank scoots away.

And she scoots closer.

And he scoots away.

And she scoots closer.

And he scoots awa—'Damn you couch! Damn you!'

Hank is now cornered by the Latin bombshell, not noticing Alex is only a few feet away, heading towards the elevator where he and Angel are near.
"You're little Xavier's friend aren't you, tall guy?"

Betrayal still quite the fresh wound, he simply says, "Nope."

"Aww, you mad Erik stole your man, tall guy?" she goads.
Hank glared at Angel, hoping that he could make her leave by sight alone.

"First of all, my name is Hank, not tall guy!" he hisses. "And second of all-"

A practiced veteran in the ways of the diva, Angel stops Hank before he gets into full-blown diva-mode and begins knocking him down a peg or two. "Boy, you are heading for some serious pain if you don't quit that tone with me." She replies, and as an afterthought adds, "Rude."

Pausing as he hears the tale-tell signs of one of Angel's (frequent) diva-offs, Alex looks over from his place near the elevator and the day's deliveries and sees Hank. Hank; Erik's librarian boyfriend Charles' ex-hooker. (Or so the coffee room gossip mongers say.)Of all the people he thought he'd never see in a diva off with Angel, this could take the whole freaking bakery. He tries and fails not to laugh as he watches them continue their conversation, both Angel and Hank none the wiser that Alex is their untimely audience.

"Don't get snippy with me, boy. I didn't steal your man from you," Angel hotly retorts, eyebrow drawn in question, lines getting quickly drawn in the metaphorical sand.

"Charles is not 'my man', okay?" Hank snaps out, pissed. ''Why does everyone think that I'm his jealous ex-hooker?'' and begins his vaguely familiar pattern of retreating from a situation that he knows for a fact he cannot win. Running smack into Alex in the process.

"Alright Hank, we get it. Charles isn't your man, and you're not his ex-hooker. Don't go all Beast and start throwing the furniture around again, 'cause Shaw would blow a gasket," Alex comments dryly, failing to avoid Hank's mid-escape attempt (maybe enjoying the unintentional touch a bit too much).

Angel pretends not to see Hank running for his life in the opposite direction, utter mortification etched on his face, and it clicks. Honestly, she's a bit insulted that she didn't see it sooner. So she starts plotting not five-minutes later, examining every little detail of what she knew of Hank, and what she drags out of Alex later, when she cracks open a bottle and they engage in a bit of a truth or dare of sorts (that she may or may not have tipped in her favor by tipping a couple beers down Alex's throat). Damn, Angel was good. 'Rominov, eat your heart out.'

Why? Because deep down, deep deep down, past her HBIC exterior, like, Disney's Atlantis, people have tried and died to reach down, Angel likes Hank. She imagines he would've been fun to play tea party dress up with when she was like, four, because being an only child was lonely and imaginary friends could only do so much before she'd accepted her fate. She could probably dress him up in whatever she wanted and he wouldn't say no, she just knew it.

And seriously, who reads The Fundamental Theorem of Calculus for fun?

Anything she did now would only benefit Hank, she was sure of it. Should she need to bust some heads and crack some skulls, well, then so be it. As she walks outside, heels clicking away while watching Hank hyperventilate, she accepts that he could, in fact, be her greatest challenge yet.

"So tall guy." She says smoothly "You want the delivery boy?"

"Wh—what?" Hank stammers out, knowing he's been caught, the quintessential deer in the headlights. "How did—I don't—what?" 'Brain to mouth filter, you fail!' Once again cornered by the Spanish diva, Hank resists the urge to reflect on the choices that brought him here. All he wanted was to read his 'Popular Mechanics' and sneak a peek of the glorious, glorious backside of one Alex Summers for the day. That's it. And then, maybe later, eat a damn Twinkie, because nutritional value aside, Twinkies were Hank's comfort food and boy, was he ever looking forward to ruining his appetite for dinner later. Especially now, after almost running his crush over. He didn't need this aggravation!

"I think I can help you in that department, Hank." She says, sitting down next to him, and, rubbing circles into his back, ends with a truth Hank would soon know. "But you're not gonna like it."


Sooooooooo? How was it? Did you not throw your monitor/mobile phone in anger at being subjected to my craptastic prose? Cuz that'd be awesome! :)

Till next time, ladies and gentlemen!

-TehCheese

6/2/12

Awww yeah bbys. Its way better thanks to all my lovely betas. I spoil all you Halex lovers at random intervals because there's -gasp- ANOTHER CHAPTER UP? Yeah. Believe it, my broskis. Read on to see what my Head!Cannon Alex thinks about this odd arrangement

Oh, and I don't own these peoples or anything you guys find familiar. I just like to think that I'm allowed to play with the concepts shown. :3

I write this because I can! Not for profit, because that shit grey, ladies and gentlemen. That shit grey.

Stay Jazzy bbys!