Disclaimer: I do not own the characters from the motion picture Coyote Ugly, they are the property of someone else; I just don't know who. They just aren't mine…dammit.
Rating: If it was a movie it would be R, but as a fan fic just to be safe I will say NC-17.
A/N: I don't usually revisit my pervious work, but since this is one of my favorites I decided that it was high time I cleaned it up a bit. So, here is the revision, hopefully it will be easier to read. I hope in six years I have become a better writer and hopefully it will show.
Coyote Ugly: Memoirs of a New York bitch
By
Rogue Amazon Boo
"Do we serve water in this bar," a very obnoxious, tall brunette asked the rowdy bunch of patrons from behind the bar.
The crowd, consisting mostly of regulars, started the chant of the newcomer's doom. They knew it had to be a newcomer because only an idiots and madmen attempted to order water at Coyote Ugly twice.
"Hell no H2O, Hell no H2O," reverberated off the four walls and behind the bar Rachel pointed the soda gun at the patron and doused him in water.
Two other girls, both blondes, sprayed the crowd with seltzer water while Lil, the owner, watched in approval; pouring out five shots of Josè for one of the guests.
It was just another night at Coyote Ugly, one of the most popular bars in New York City. Cammie, the Russian tease, got up on the bar with the other blond Rebecca, and started dancing to the remix version of "She makes me wanna die." The crowd went wild as both young women gyrated to the music.
Rebecca, who back before she came to New York had been a gymnast, did a back hand spring into a split and then rolled into another turn while Cammie proceeded to dance with the pole at the other end of the bar. At the back of the bar a tall, built man with sandy blond haired, dressed in jeans, a white collar-less shirt, and a black leather jacket, watched the antics with something akin to horror.
Detective Nathan Boudreaux, born and raised in Baton Rouge, had known, like every good southern boy knows, that Yanks were collectively insane but he hadn't really expected the bar to actually live up to the fantastical stories he had heard.
Noticing her former partner's slightly overwhelmed look Jessie McIntyre-Leland, a petite red head with a body to die for and a mind as sharp as her tongue, leaned in and twisted the knife a little more.
"You look scared Boudreaux," she said, a teasing gleam in her eye. Nathan turned a vacant look on his old partner and friend.
"I just didn't expect this to be quite so…colorful."
"Well look at it this way, at least they haven't set the bar on fire tonight."
Jessie watched, delighted, as Nathan paled even more. For a big city cop her old friend was sure easy to get too. It must be all that southern genteel breeding.
"We didn't have anything like this in New Orleans," Nate drawled, a hint of French Creole accent coloring his words.
Jessie, who was New York born and bred, had always envied Nate that drawl. It was the perfect cover because it made people underestimate the southern detective and her old partner knew how to use it to his best advantage. She on the other hand still had her street girl savvy lit from the Bronx; even three years of living in Louisiana hadn't cured her of it.
Jessie thought back to when she and Nathan had first met. She had been fresh out of the academy and eager to see other places besides New York, so when the opportunity to relocate to Baton Rouge came she jumped on it. When she had first met her blond haired, blue eyed, slow talking, and drop dead gorgeous friend, she had immediately figured he would be a push over. How wrong she had been.
Nate had the tenacity of a bulldog and they had grown to respect each other in the three years they worked vice together. Nathan had eventually been promoted to a Narcotics division in New Orleans and Jessie had found that Baton Rouge just wasn't the same without her partner.
So, she had moved back to New York, married her old high school sweetheart Eric Leland, and risen to the rank of homicide detective. Now, she and Nate were back in the same division, even though they weren't partnered together. Life had a funny way of coming full circle.
"Tell me Nate, what's Mr. I haven't had a social life since eating playdough with Mary-Ann Bell in the third grade doing at one of the hottest bars in the city."
Jessie teased, leaning in a bit to be heard. Nate didn't bother with an answer, settling for a glare. He didn't want to tell Jessie that the reason he was here was now dancing on the bar with the other two blondes to Warrants' Cherry Pie.
Watching the lithe brunette as she strutted on the bar he thought back to this morning and the reason for this insanity.
"Hey Boudreaux!"
Nate turned and saw a uniform he'd meet at a bust a couple of weeks ago walking towards him..
"Al," he greeted with some trepidation.
Al was notorious for his practical jokes and he was the newbie in the precinct. He wouldn't put it pass the older man to try and pull a fast one on him. Nate eyes drifted to the man at Al's side, a massive African American officer he didn't know.
"What do you want Al. I'm in the middle of the paperwork for the Anderson case."
The older cop grinned.
Al was well into middle age and not showing it well. His beer belly, hanging jowls, and bulbous nose made him look like Santa just coming of a three-day bender. The guy next to him was about the same age but in considerably better shape. Nate had met trucks that were smaller than him.
"I was just telling Clarence here about how Jessie was telling us how all the ladies use to just fall all over you. Something about all your southern golden boy charm. I was saying hows I bet I know a lady that could shoot you down."
Al was grinning and Nathan almost groaned aloud.
"No way Al, no bets. Jessie warned me about you and your bets," he replied, good-naturedly. The beefy little man looked wounded and flung a fleshy arm around Nathan's shoulders.
"I'm hurt that you would have so little trust in me," Al said, while maneuvering the younger detective out in the hall. "I tell you what. As a show of my good faith I'll make the bet small…say a round for me and the boys at Pete's, alls you gotta do is turn on that charm and try to get a phone number."
Nate gave Al a suspicious look. He also didn't like the fact that Clarence was grinning at him like he had the punch line to a very funny joke; one he knew involved him making an ass of himself.
"Look, I'm sure that you could find someone else to…" he started to say and then abruptly stopped speaking.
Down the hall, lounging in one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs that the department had in the waiting area, was a gorgeous brunette decked out in leather. Nate felt his jaw drop as his eyes followed her long, black leather clad legs to the matching fringed, black top that left her midriff bare.
Her dark, softly curled hair cascaded around her face and down to her shoulders and the package was completed by high cheekbones, a full, luscious mouth, and eyes that he would bet his life were hazel.
She was leaning her head back against the wall with her eyes closed so she hadn't seen him ogling her. Al noted the younger man's interest with a malicious little grin.
"And I see you have found our object of seduction," he taunted. Nathan almost choked in surprise.
"Her!"
"Her," Al drawled and then added.
"All you gotta do is get a phone number golden boy."
Boudreaux looked from one officer to the other. They weren't even trying to hide their cat-that-ate-the-canary grins.
"What is she guys, a prostitute that you paid to shoot me down," he said on a little laugh.
But even as he said it Nate knew the woman wasn't a prostitute. A cop didn't work three years in vice without being able to spot a working girl a mile away in a hurricane.
"Even better, she's a coyote," Al replied. Nathan was about to ask just what the hell a coyote was, when Al interrupted.
"Look Remy McSwain, we ain't got all day. Just go get a phone number."
Al gave him a little push when he hesitated and tried not to wince at the nickname that everyone in the department seemed to be batting around.
He didn't look that much like Dennis Quaid and he was nothing like his character Remy from The Big Easy but he figured saying something about it would just make them use it more.
He sighed, let it go, and asked.
"What do I get if I win this bet of yours?"
"I do your paperwork for a week," Al replied.
It was already well known how much Nate hated paper work. He was constantly cursing his computer after a big case and even the bravest officer wouldn't approach in the morning with more paperwork until they had plied him with at least two cups of the department sludge that passed as coffee.
So when Nathan threw him a cocky grin and said, "You Yankee boys watch how we do it in the south." Al wasn't at all surprised.
With a grin the devil might have worn after tricking you out of your soul Al watched the golden boy detective approach Rachel Barnes. He just hoped her anger management classes were going well, he would hate to see the southern boy laid out flat in his first month.
Rachel sighed and leaned her head against the hard, cool wall of the police station. She had a hell of a hangover and was not in the mood to hear her anger management instructor with his feel good crap about breathing and positive imagery.
It was no wonder most of the people that went through these stupid classes were back in the station on battery charges within a month. Hell she was about ready to assault the hippie guru herself just so she wouldn't have to come back.
So when a distinctly southern; distinctly male voice off to her left brought her aching head up from the blessed relief of the wall she was less than pleased.
"Excuse me, ma'am," it drawled.
It was a nice voice Rachel realized as she opened her eyes. The smiling, built sandy blond haired man it went with wasn't bad either, too bad he had cop written all over him in permanent ink. It was also too bad that she just wasn't in the mood.
"No," she said, glaring.
Nathan was taken aback. All he'd said was excuse me and she was already giving him the cold shoulder. Hazel, he thought, as an after thought. Hazel eyes the color of good whiskey, he'd been right. Keeping his smile in place he started to say.
You don't even know what I'm going…" she cut him off.
"No, I don't want to go out with you, no, I don't want to fuck you, and no, I won't let you wear my ass as a hat," she said succinctly, leaned her head back against the wall, and closed her eyes.
This time Nathan was less taken aback and more along the lines of completely floored. Still, since surrender was not a word in his vocabulary.
"I think maybe we got off on the wrong foot. I'm Nathan Boudreaux and you are?"
He kept his voice even and charming and she gave him a withering look.
"Not interested."
"Whoa cher, hold on a minute, at least tell me…"
Again Rachel didn't let him finish. Her eyes flashed opened and she leaned forward quickly grabbing hold of his tie. Rachel used the silky material to reel him in until they were face to face, tightened it until it was choking him, and threw the situation down.
"Look, you are obviously new here so I'll make this very clear and use small words so you'll understand. First, I do not date cops and when I say I am not interested walk away. Second, I have a hangover the size of the state of New York and you are not helping. Third, in about ten minutes, I have to go listen to doctor feel good tell me that my fucking attitude needs adjusting when the only thing I want to do is rearrange his face so I can go take a nap. And now, I have a good lil' old southern boy who doesn't have the brain capacity to take no for an answer. My day is blowing already and it hasn't even begun yet. Now get lost."
The speech was beautifully put, calculated to cut a man up into little itty-bitty pieces and leave his ego on the floor, which is why Rachel was shocked when instead of pulling back in anger like most guys would have, Nathan, as he called himself, leaned in and brushed his lips gently over hers.
With a growl she let go of his tie and pushed him back and he hit the floor laughing. Rachel fought the urge to run her fingers over her lips; she felt like he had burned her and it wasn't even a real kiss. Shaken, and seriously thinking about giving him a swift kick in the groin, she stood up and started to walk away.
"What's your name," he called after her still laughing. She didn't answer; instead she quickened her step. She should have kicked him she thought, disgusted.
Clarence and Al were practically rolling on the ground when Nathan finally found the motivation to pick himself up off the floor. He made his way over to the uniform and his friend.
"You set me up Al," he drawled and pulled out a couple of twenties from his wallet. It was more than enough for the round of drinks he owed.
"You were right," Clarence said between belly laughs, "southern boy was a lamb to the slaughter."
"Yeah but what a way to go," Al added, jamming a playful elbow in the big man's stomach.
"Ok you had your fun. So tell me her name since she didn't see fit to mention it before murdering my ego."
Nathan tried to sound nonchalant but he must not have succeeded because both Al and Clarence instantly stopped laughing.
"Why do you want to know," Al asked, suspicious. Nate sighed.
"Look Al, I'm not going to give the lady any trouble. I just want to know her name."
The uniform smirked.
"Rachel Barnes," he answered.
"I don't suppose you know were she works?" Nate asked. This time Clarence was the one to narrow his eyes and reluctantly answer.
"She's a coyote."
"And what's a Coyote do?"
The other men just shrugged and Nathan felt like he was pulling information out of a particularly difficult snitch. Finally, with a twinkle in his eye and a grin curving his lips, Al cryptically replied.
"Figure that out Remy and maybe you will see her again. Come on Clarence the drinks are on the golden boy."
The two uniforms walked away leaving Nate to figure out just how to find Rachel Barnes again.
Nathan was brought back to reality as screaming hormone, that was trying to pass himself off as a person, got pulled up next to the bar and he watched as the girls poured a whole bottle of southern comfort into the guy's open mouth and down his shirt.
He frowned. He almost regretting taking Al's riddle and figuring it out; still if he hadn't he wouldn't be here now watching Rachel shake her very impressive ass on the top of a wood topped bar.
Nate wasn't sure exactly how he felt about that so he decided to have mixed feelings for now and he was forced to admit that he was getting use to the atmosphere the longer he hung around.
Jessie happened to notice the direction of his gaze and with a knowing look she answered the question he had yet to give her a satisfactory answer for.
"Ah, I had heard someone had a run in with Rachel but I didn't know it was you. A word of advice my friend, that girl has teeth and she gives new meaning to the word untouchable."
When Nate didn't say anything Jessie's look turned from knowing to worried.
"Oh man, tell me you haven't gone and gotten yourself hooked on a coyote? Listen to me Nate that girl has more walls than China and she will chew her arm off and yours just to get away."
Nathan shot his former partner his most charming, boyish grin.
"Jessie you are reading too much into this."
Jessie, knowing her former partner like she did, knew when he was more than just casually interest in a woman. He had the look now, the one he got when a lady really got her hooks in him.
"Nate I mean it, you need to be careful."
"I'm always careful," he said, grinning.
Jessie gave him a look that said she wasn't buying it and he lifted a tender hand to her cheek and looked straight into her green eyes.
"Don't worry about me so much, cher. I know what I'm doing."
His former partner just rolled her eyes and sighed. She had a feeling that he was going to do this with or without her blessing.
"Fine if you insist on this suicidal mission then I might as well introduce you to an old friend. Come on."
Jessie motioned for him to follow her as she made her way through the patrons to the bar. Intrigued, he pushed his way after her until he was standing with her at the far right end.
Rachel was at the other end feeding shots into a rowdy bunch of twenty-plus-year olds. Nathan pegged the group instantly; bachelor party. His attention was dragged away from the object of his obsession by a loud delighted cry of "Jessie!"
Nate turned; surprised by the light of greeting in the eyes of the blond haired woman behind the bar. His surprise turned to shock with the next words out of his old friend's mouth.
"Nate I want you to meet Lil, she owns the place and she is also my old boss. Lil this is Nathan Boudreaux my former partner from Baton Rouge.
"You worked here!"
To say he was surprised would have been and understatement and Jessie grinned wider. Lil added her own grin and one of her patented comments.
"You were right about him; cute, but not too bright." Nathan flushed and glared at his former partner and then grinned, rueful.
"She's right you know. I'm dumb as post. I have just been charming the criminals off the streets for seven years."
Jessie rolled her eyes.
"You were right Lil, when you told me that men are the weaker sex. I have known this guy for three years and he still can't take a joke."
"I'm always right Jess, you should know that by now," she replied with a smile and turned to Nate. "So what'll it be?"
He grinned. He was perversely tempted to say water but decided that he'd had about all the abuse he could take tonight.
"Corona and a shot of southern comfort."
"I like a man who knows what he wants."
She winked at Jessie, who was grinning at the way Nate flushed. At least she was until Nate got that unholy twinkle in his eye that said loud and clear he was about to do something supremely stupid.
"Actually Lil I'm glad you said that. If you wouldn't mind could you have Rachel pour for me?"
A glint of suspicion passed through Lil's eyes but the glint swiftly turned to one of calculation and amusement. Nathan suspected the source of her amusement and confirmed his suspicion when he looked in the mirror behind the bar.
Jessie was behind him pretending to hang herself from an invisible noose. When his eyes met hers in the mirror she stopped, but not before running a finger across her throat. Lil, who had been watching the exchange intently, laughed at the two detectives. In her experience cops were worse than children were when it came to teasing each other.
"Yeah I have a death wish but could you all forget that for now and just humor me."
Lil smirked.
"Your funeral," she said and then yelled. "Rachel...customer!"
Rachel had been busy fending off one of the more amorous of the bachelor party boys by throwing him into the waiting arms of his friends. She then turned and hazel eyes met blue. Her whiskey gaze narrowed and he smiled.
For a split second it seemed like she wasn't going to come over but at the last instant her indecision turned into resolve. She stalked over to him making it a point to ignore him.
"Yeah Lil, what do you want?" She asked.
"She wants you to pour an old friend a drink Rach," Jessie said.
If Nathan was stunned before then he was knocked straight onto his ass now. He watched as Rachel smiled a crooked, half smile and reached across the bar to hug the petite redhead.
"Well I'll be damned. The lady cop comes home to the coyotes."
"Do you know everybody," Nathan said turning to Jessie. His former partner grinned and shrugged her shoulders.
"I had to pay for the academy somehow and I just happened to do that working here. Rachel here taught me everything there was to know about being a coyote. Who do you think got the charges reduced and put in a good word in for her when Al busted her for battery a few months ago."
He groaned. "I feel like I have been set up from the beginning"
He looked to Rachel, smiled at her, and found that she wasn't smiling back.
"You know this guy Jess," she said accusingly. Jessie didn't blink.
"Yep, he was my partner back in Baton Rouge. I'd introduce you but I know you have already met."
Just then Lil called for quiet through the megaphone they kept behind the bar. Nathan, who had been feeling like someone sucker punched him in the gut, started feeling a little better as he watched his friend pale to a ghostly shade of white.
"Listen up everybody; we have a special visitor here tonight. She's a lady cop, one of New York's finest, but you all know her better as Jessie, one of the original coyotes."
Nate watched amused, as his friend started shaking her head.
"Dammit Lil, I'm a paying customer now! You can't do this to me," she wailed. Nathan smirked; he had never heard her wail before and Lil, of course, ignored her completely.
"Come on everybody put your hands together for Jessie."
The petite redhead glared at her old boss, who was in the process of pulling her up on the bar. The crowd had also started to get into the action chanting, "Jessie, Jessie, Jessie."
"Come on Jess, once a coyote always a coyote." Lil tugged and Jessie growled, but allowed herself to be pulled on top of the bar.
Nathan had been enjoying watching his always unflappable partner get suckered in to dancing on the bar. He was also thoroughly enjoying watching his former partner shake her grove thing to the B-52s' Love Shack, until a slightly annoyed voice brought him back to the reason he was there in the first place.
"She's married you know," Rachel said, while popping the top to the Corona he had ordered.
"I know. I was the best man."
She rolled her eyes.
"I'm probably asking for a black eye but I would really like to get your phone number."
She shot him a scathing look.
"Are you just brain damage from beating your head against a wall or are you really this stupid?" Rachel asked while she poured two more shots for another patron. She slid them down the bar and turned back to Nate. "I told you southern boy, I don't date cops."
"Who said anything about dating? I was just talking about strictly no contact talking," he replied, his expression innocent. "You don't even have to talk about yourself. We can talk about the weather, birds, work…whatever. And just to let you know I don't think your ass would look good on me as a hat. I look better in baseball caps."
Rachel couldn't help it, she smiled, and then just as quickly forced her mouth back into a scowl, but it was too late. Nate had already seen it.
"That was a smile; don't try to deny it I'm a trained observer. I notice these little things," he said triumphantly and took a swig of his beer.
Rachel just smiled an evil, mischievous smile and leaned in to whisper in his ear. Nathan was distracted at first by her warm breath caressing his skin but her words finally sunk in.
"If that's so then why are you drinking Jordan's beer," she said sweetly and walked away.
Jordan, as it turned out, was a rather large man dressed in biker's leather. He was currently scowling at Nate while cracking the knuckles of his large hands. Nathan quickly apologized and backed away from the giant and once he was clear of the biker he looked for Rachel and spotted her at the other end of the bar.
Knowing that he was just asking for punishment he started to make his way towards Rachel again, until he saw her grab Lil, yell something in her ear, and vault the side of the bar. He watched her lithe frame slink through the patrons toward a handsome, dark haired guy that was grinning at her like an idiot.
She didn't look happy to see him at all. Not sure why he felt so compelled to find out what was going on he shot a glance at Jessie to make sure she was all right and then followed Rachel and the mystery man outside.