Title: Girl of Green Street
Chapter Number: One
Author: celuthea
Warnings: Serious violence, bad language and sex
Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters except Ebony, but you know how fun these boys are to play with.
)()()()()(
Ebony heard her phone ringing, but ignored it; she was too tired to even consider answering the phone. She lived with the principle that if someone needed her desperately enough, they'd call again. Irritatingly, it rang and ran before the obnoxious noise suddenly stopped. "Thank fuck," she muttered, rolling over and burying her face in the soft pillow, sleep coming back quickly like a living shadow.
Then the door went. "Fuck off you fucking idiots," she called, throwing the cover back and standing up, stretching as she did so and shivering a little, wishing she was still tucked up under her duvet. Stepping over her Labrador who was still snoring gently, she yawned and padded to the front door, pulling it open a crack until the chain stopped it.
"Alright, Ebbs!" Ebony rolled her eyes as she saw that is was Pete Dunham who had disturbed her peaceful sleep.
"Would be better if you weren't waking me the fuck up at some ridiculous hour when I worked all bloody night," she replied, rubbing her face distractedly. Pete smirked, used to her cheerful disposition and pushed the door, receiving resistance as Ebony pushed back and the chain caught again. "What do you want?" she demanded. "Preferably the shortened version." Pete laughed and stepped aside, showing Matt hovering behind him. "Who's the girl?" she asked, peering at Matt around Pete. His face reminded her distinctly of someone, though she was buggered if she knew who.
"We'll be late for football if you don't get your fucking act together," Pete told her with his arms crossed, looking for all the world that butter wouldn't melt in his mouth. Ebony knew for a fact that butter would turn into cheese in Pete Dunham's mouth.
"Do I look fucking bothered?" she replied smartly, stepping away from the door and removing the chain from the door, retreating to the moderate comfort of the sofa. She did her best to cover herself up, but wearing summer pyjamas that left little to the imagination were not meant for entertaining. At least not the kind of entertaining she was engaged in.
Pete followed and Matt brought up the rear, looking nervously sheepish as he studied the room. It was small but well decorated, and she seemed to have gone with shades of blue for the decoration in the living room. Turning around from the walls, he watched Ebony stalk across the room in her pajamas and settle on the sofa, the Labrador jumping up beside her and she automatically began scratching its ears. "I ain't going to football, Pete, I was up all fucking night working. Saw your handiwork on the Tottenham boys," she added with a small smile of pride spreading on her face.
"Oh, yeah, pretty good right?" Pete asked her, perching on the end of the sofa furthest from her. One thing she had noticed was Pete's aptitude to look like he belonged anywhere. Matt on the other hand was still standing with a deer-in-the-headlights look on his face.
"Right, short bloke, sit down or I'll make you," she said and meant it. "Pete, where'd you find such a whimp?"
"That's Shannon's brother, be nice," he replied, shooting her a warning glare, to which she gave him a blank stare. Matt watched Ebony's face change for a second when Shannon was mentioned, but return to its neutral I'm-pretending-to-be-pissed-off look.
"I'm Matt Buckner," he said eventually after an awkward pause, extending a hand to the red-head who glanced at the proffered hand before taking it.
"Ebony King," she replied, giving him a much firmer handshake than he gave her. She sighed and stood up, making her way to the kitchenette to pour herself a glass of water. "Right it don't make any difference, I ain't going to fucking football. I ran a double shift at the hospital last night, all kinds of fucking idiots coming in, so fuck off and go irritate someone else." Pete shrugged then nudged her in the ribs, causing her to spill some of the water. "Do that again and I'll pour it in your trousers."
"Threat or promise?" he asked, wriggling his eyebrows at her. Matt laughed at the disbelieving look Ebony gave Pete.
"You want to take the chance and go to football with a wet crotch?" she bantered back, and Matt got the impression that they engaged in witty repartee regularly.
Pete put both hands up in mock defeat. "Alright Ebbsy, you got me!" he laughed, shaking his head a little. "But, let it be known that I offered to take you, you miserable shit," he said, a note of teasing in his voice. Ebony held a finger up at him then indicated the door, ignoring his protests and bad attempts at crying to change her mind.
"Fuck off," she hissed, standing up and walking back to the bedroom and the bed which she hoped was still warm. As she slipped under the covers, she heard the front door snap closed. She'd succeeded in getting rid of them, for now at least. She never could keep away from the GSE for long.
)()()()()(
"She seems nice," Matt said to Pete as they walked out of Ebony's apartment building, and he glanced up at the window he assumed was hers.
"She's a great bird, but don't let her hear me say that," Pete smirked back, taking a sharp left to short-cut the journey to the Abbey. "She's a doctor, ya know."
Matt was truly shocked. "You're having me on!" he replied, trying to imagine what the word 'Doctor' could mean in rhyming slang.
"Genuinely, she's a fucking quack at the East London Accident and Emergency!" Pete told Matt, slightly taken aback that the little Yank hadn't believed him.
"I can't imagine her as a doctor," Matt concluded, shaking his head with a small smile on his face. Pete took them down another shortcut which brought them out a couple of doors down from the Abbey.
"Now, you're kinda going into my place of business. Speak when you're spoken to, and don't go blabbing to Brother Steve about what you heard at football," Pete told him, putting his best serious face on as he towered over the shorter American.
"Mouth shut, eyes closed, keep secrets; I can manage that," Matt replied with a lilt in his voice, trying to lighten the mood. Pete instantly smiled and slapped Matt on the arm.
"Good, now let's go! It's football day!"
)()()()()(
Ebony tried for over an hour, but couldn't sleep, despite her most concerted efforts and even a cup of warm milk. Something worried her, and she knew what it was; the little Yank. She knew all too well what the boys got up to when they went to football, and she couldn't imagine the little Matt being much of a fighter. He lacked that killer instinct, she told herself. Getting out of bed again and clicking her shoulders and neck, she picked up the dog and dropped him onto the bed so she could access her chest of drawers. She ripped open the top one, picked out some clothes that seemed to match and got dressed quickly. Out in the living room she found her trainers, grabbed her rucksack and left the flat, shouting a rushed goodbye to the dog and shoving the keys in her pocket.
It was a long walk to West Ham's home ground from her flat, but she covered the ground as quick as she could, ducking down every shortcut she knew at a jog or a fast walk. After 20 minutes or so, when she was still around 5 minutes from the football stadium, she heard an American squeal in a high-pitched voice. "Shit," she mumbled, turning in the direction of the voice and sprinting. Her long legs and gym visits meant she could cover the ground very quickly, and she came around the corner a little too fast and skidded to her knees. Recovering quickly, she caught up with the group chasing Matt and with a well aimed kick to the knee of the straggler sent him to the floor. She took a moment to smirk at him before pushing on. By now the others had trapped Matt and had him pinned against a wall, so she crouched behind a handy outcropping in the bridge to pick the perfect moment.
"Ever heard of a Chelsea grin?" The first said, rummaging for his wallet and producing a credit card. Matt shook his head, his eyes far too wide and his whole body shaking. "Do you take American Express?"
"Do you take being beaten by a fucking girl?" Ebony's fist went back and struck the leader in the back of the skull when it joined his spine. It wasn't a blow designed to kill him, but it made his knees buckle as a reflex reaction. As the leader tumbled she bent double and head-butted the guy holding Matt's left leg in the groin, sending him sprawling to the floor clutching himself. The guy on the right gave her a punch to the left cheek and sent her sprawling to the floor, where she deftly rolled out of his reach to force him to drop Matt if he wanted to punish Ebony. Being of limited intelligence, he dropped Matt and advanced on her as she wiped blood out of her eye. Just as Matt got ready to act, though he had no idea what he would do exactly, Pete appeared and head-butted the guy, knocking him out cold. Then he turned and offered Ebony a hand up. "Cheers mate," she panted.
"You are a fucking psycho, girl," he told her, and she dug him in the ribs with her elbow. "There were three of them!"
"So? I like me a challenge," she replied with a smile, still buzzing all over from the adrenaline both the running and the fighting gave her.
"You will get yourself killed one day," Swill told her, giving her a one-armed hug
"Yeah, maybe," she replied. Turning to Matt and feeling a little concerned for him, she asked, "You alright?"
"Yeah thanks to you," he replied. He was still in at least a little shock, and looked guiltily at the bleeding cut on her cheek that she absently dabbed at with her sleeve, ignorant to the stain that was forming on the white hoody.
"Righto you bunch of poofs, let get in the fucking van," Ike called, indicating the idling vehicle behind him with a thumb. The lot of them nodded in agreement and piled into the back, settling on benches and chatting jovially. Matt was still trying to get a halfway decent grasp on what had happened to him, just as Ebony fished a piece of fabric out of her bag and mopped up the worst of the blood from her face, wincing a little as the fabric touched the cut. Matt watched with a mixture of guilt and fear of reprimand for wandering off on his own, and caught her eye.
"Keep staring kid, and I'll give you a matching one," she threatened, passing him a wink as she did so. He opened his mouth to answer, but was cut short when a brick hit the front window. There was a roar of a cheer from the rest of the boys, and Ebony had time to say, "Here we go again!" before she began pulling the door open and holding it so all the others could get out. Matt gave her a look, just as she grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him out behind her.
"I don't know how to fight!" Matt shouted in a panic to anyone who would listen.
"Just think of someone you hate!" Pete told him quickly, nodding at Ebony who had come up beside him and Matt.
"Look just stick near me and you'll be fine," she told him just as she leapt into the fray, without a glance backwards. He followed her, trying to get as close to her as possible and keep out of anyone else's rach, but had to keep dodging her elbows as she frantically lashed out before anyone could land a punch on her; then the punch hit Matt square on the cheekbone, and stars exploded over his vision like a bad cartoon. He fell and lost sight of Ebony as his face and head screamed in pain, and for a few moments he was sure he was dying.
As his vision cleared, he had enough presence of mind to roll out of reach of the man's boots and scramble to his feet, albeit unsteadily. He swung his arms wildly, unsure which of the men that was swimming in his double vision was the real one, missed by a mile and staggered past. Then the bloke started to laugh, and Matt snapped. The image of Jeremy Van Holden formed in his mind, and it was no longer this drunken man he was attacking; it was the bastard who had ruined his career at Harvard. He brought his fist back and smacked it into the guys jaw with a sickening thud that made Matt feel more than a little queasy. He stared at his fist with a sick feeling falling through his whole body, the pain equalled by his disgust at himself. The adrenaline began to take over him, and then nothing mattered except the fight. Except staying alive. Then two punches hit him, and everything seemed to develop a fuzzy quality again. Relying on the adrenaline, he knew he was hitting people, but he wasn't consciously aware of it or in control of it. The next thing he knew he had hit the deck and could hear sirens wailing around him. Hands were on his back and he was suddenly yanked to his feet, staggering a little as the world spun too fast around him.
"You are a fucking idiot!" He heard Ebony before he could adequately see her face. When it swam into view, it was dripping blood onto the white hoody she had on, but the smile on her face displayed the adrenaline she felt buzzing through her veins. Matt shared that sudden burst of adrenaline and laughed, his head clearing instantly like the clouds melting away after a storm.
Keith jogged over and shook Matt's hand, "Fair play son, there's plenty who woulda done a runner but you didn't, I'm proud of ya." Matt positively beamed by way of a response, pleased with himself secretly that he hadn't run away.
"Who was he then?" Pete asked, panting a little to flood his body with the oxygen it craved.
"Who?" Matt asked, the question struggling to permeate his adrenaline-filled brain cells.
"The guy you was fighting."
"Jeremy Van fucking Holden!" Matt laughed. Ebony shook her head and laughed with the others, brushing her fringe out of her eyes.
"Are we done kissing each other's arses? Because I gotta say Matt, my little niece punches better
then you," Ebony teased gently, digging him in the ribs a little with her elbow.
"Yeah, that first punch right there? A little feminine," Keith teased along with Ebony, but being a lot less subtle about it.
"What? That was a fucking good punch!" Matt retorted, recreating the random fist-flinging that he called a good punch.
"Well, it woulda been if you hit anything," Pete finished. Bovver came over to them, giving Matt a dirty sideways look. "What a fucking result!"