AN: Hullo...everyone, really. There really isn't anything that NEEDS to be said, but those of you who read my Scarecrow stories may recognize Jill as being Kitty Richardson's cousin. Insanity runs in the family.
That aside, the opening one-shot takes place looong before Red Eye. Maybe...college days? Because this is fanfiction, Jackson was an exchange student in England. As always, I own nothing. If I did, I'd have a car.
"Want to go for dinner sometime?"
She looks at him, sizing him up, and then she takes hold of his shirt. He's not expecting her to kiss him, but he sure as hell isn't about to complain.
Her lips move to his ear.
"No."
Then she shoves him back and walks back to her friends. He rubs the back of his head and wonders how many people can say they got a kiss like that but no date and no sex.
"What about tomorrow?" he calls after her.
He gets no answer.
They're at a club. He snuck in here. She probably did, too. Normally he knows enough to cut his losses, but he can't forget their last encounter.
"Hello."
"You again. One per customer, sweetie."
"Feel like dancing?"
"No."
"What about a drink?"
"Are you stalking me?"
"No…"
"Good. And no."
"Can I at least get a name?"
"I don't know yours."
He'd give it to her, honest, but one of her friends drags her away before he can. Dammit.
It's not the same. It's just not the same at all.
The girl in his lap tangles her fingers in his hair and pulls him up against her. He's bored. This was too easy.
His eyes catch the other one, the nameless one. The fun one. She grins at him, takes a sip of her drink, and disappears into the shadows.
This just isn't the same at all.
It's raining. He knows he should go inside, but his roommate picked up a couple of girls and he's not in the mood for the noise.
"Jill Waters."
Seriously? He wants to crack a joke, but he'll be good.
"Jackson."
"Jack?"
"Jackson." he says again.
"No last name?"
"Rippner."
She giggles.
"Poor you." She walks around him, one finger running along his spine. "Well, Jackson Rippner, you might want to go in before you get hypothermia."
"Wait!"
"Mm?"
"Would you like to go for dinner sometime?"
"We'll see."
And then she's gone, leaving him with a useless umbrella and a name.
He might be getting somewhere with her.
"Hello again."
She's back. Damn these small towns. He feels for anyone who has a nasty break-up in this place.
"I'm here on a bet."
A bet?
"What sort of bet?"
"That your eyes aren't that colour."
"They are."
"Really."
"Really."
She looks at him and grins. It's a predatory grin and he wonders who is chasing who.
"That's interesting. Good night, Jackson Rippner."
She leans over and kisses him-on the cheek this time, unfortunately-before walking back to her friends.
"Please?"
"I didn't peg you for the begging type."
He's not. This is an exception.
"Just once."
"Just once."
He nods. After a minute, he adopts a pleading expression. That should do it. It works on everyone else.
"Seven thirty." she says. "Don't be late."
"To where?"
"Right here." She's already walking away. "Don't forget."
As if.