There are some things you just don't do. Screwing your pseudobrother while you're in heat is one of them. But like I always say, forget regret. Shit's over and done with. Move on. You only have one life (unless you believe in reincarnation, of course), so enjoy it while you can. There's no day but today.
~*~
Jondy didn't sleep. She just pretended to. Like she was doing now, Zack's arm tight around her, her head tucked under his chin. The sun was just beginning to peek over the edge of the building across the street. With some regret, she slipped out from underneath his warm, comforting hold.
He looked so cute when he was sleeping. It was the only time his face bore any semblance of looking peaceful. Even now, his brows were creased. Gently, she smoothed the skin between his eyebrows with her thumb. There.
Oh no. Warm fuzzy feeling alert.
She sighed and shook her head to clear it. She didn't need any romantic, idealistic, impossible thoughts right now, Zack-oriented or otherwise. Pulling on her robe, she padded over to the refrigerator in her bare feet. Opening the door and looking inside, she was sadly disappointed in its contents. A root beer, a couple of ice teas, and a partridge in a pear tree. Well, everything except the last part.
She was starving. She should be, considering… She decided to get dressed and go out for something to eat.
After a quick shower, she rummaged through her closet, drying her hair with a towel. She pulled out jeans and a shirt and put them on. As she tied her ratty old sneakers, Zack's jacket caught her eye. Black leather. Nice. She grabbed it as she went out the door. Although she didn't want to admit it, she knew that she was doing it to make sure that he'd still be there when she got back. Zack had a habit of making quick exits.
As she walked outside, she put it on, tossing her hair over her shoulder. She liked it. It smelled like Zack. Sweat, leather, and something vaguely spicy. Must be some cologne, or aftershave, or something. Whatever it was, it smelled good.
His scent alone was enough to get her stomach tightening. She thought that she'd exercise when she got home, despite her soreness from the previous night's activities. She didn't need it, what with her genetically-enhanced body and all, but sometimes it helped relieve the need.
Telling herself to worry about working out later, she refocused on the important things instead. Two blocks away, she could smell food. Good thing too, because her stomach was growling audibly now and she was starting to get weird looks.
~*~
She walked inside, kicking the door shut behind her. The oil was seeping through the brown bag in her hands, making her hands greasy. "Zack, I got some breakfast!" she called, dropping the bag on the table.
When she got no answer, she peeked into the bedroom. The bedroom was empty, the bed neatly made, all clothes that had been hastily discarded the night before neatly stacked on a chair. Her heart sank, the knot in her stomach growing. So much for a guarantee.
"Great," said a voice beside her. She turned to him, trying to hide her relief. He was wearing jeans and nothing else, rubbing his hair with a towel. "What's in the bag?"
"Chinese food. The breakfast of champions. The all-star diet of X-5s everywhere," she joked, trying to keep her tone light, even though all she wanted to do was run her hands all over his body.
He grinned, then changed the subject. "That's my jacket."
"You noticed."
"I was wondering where it went."
"I was cold. Besides, it looks better on me."
If she could just keep up this witty repartee, she might be okay. But something must have shown on her face, because Zack asked, sounding suspiciously like he actually cared, "Are you okay, Jondy? Last night too much?"
Any other time, she might have accused him of making fun of her, but his tone was dead serious.
"Actually," she managed to say, "I think I might need more."
Instead of backing off like she had expected, he took a step closer and wrapped his arms around her. She could feel his lips next to her ear as he said softly, "That's okay."
~*~
Fastforward to the next day. Jondy opened her eyes, with considerable shock. Had she been sleeping? What calamity had occurred in the universe for that to happen? Although she suspected she already knew the answer. She tried to sit up and was rewarded with the knowledge that she was sore in places she hadn't even known she could be sore.
She turned to look at Zack. Except he wasn't there. She listened for a sound, a movement, anything that would tell her Zack was still there. She looked around. The clothes on the chair were gone, and so was the leather jacket. Feeling an innate sense of loss, she walked into the kitchen and opened the fridge. The bag was still there, minus several cartons.
She should have known. She had known, in a way. For Zack to stay as long as he did was a miracle all in itself. But it wasn't enough. She wanted him to stay. She knew she was being selfish, but she didn't care. Yes, she did. She wasn't the only one Zack had to worry about. There were other X-5s, in case she had forgotten.
At least the heat was over. She was safe. For another few months, anyway. Pulling out a carton that smelled like sautéed chicken, she popped it in the microwave. While she waited, she dug around in the bag and came up with a fortune cookie. Ripping the plastic off, she broke it open. She didn't like the taste of fortune cookies, just the fortunes, but she ate it anyway. Taste was not on her top ten list of things to worry about.
She read the fortune. "Good things come to those who wait." Like hell they did. Shaking her head at the incredible inaccuracy of the fortunes, cryptic as they were, she crumpled it up and threw it in the trash. Score! Three points. She sighed. Redding was getting old fast. She needed someplace new. Someplace exciting.
~*~
Zack went back to Jondy's apartment a few weeks later. The place was empty. Not so much as an empty bottle of tryptophan to show that someone lived there. Had lived there. She was trained well, he thought wryly. Too well. He stopped and shook his head. There was no such thing. Besides, she should have called him at the contact number.
He didn't ask himself why she hadn't told him. He knew why she hadn't told him. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. Especially this woman.
~*~
Jondy chose San Francisco. Big and beautiful. As soon as she was settled (i.e. had an actual place of residence and fake ID cards), she went out looking for a job. But all the restaurants had enough waiters. All the stores had enough salespeople. No work could be found anywhere. Well, no honest work, anyway.
Finally, worn-out and tired, she went to a bar. As a rule, she didn't drink, but there were always exceptions. And she considered this a pretty damn good exception. The bar was almost empty, save a few drunks, regulars, Jondy suspected, and one guy in a suit who was having a hard time holding his head up.
"A beer, please," she said, sliding onto the stool. As the bartender put the bottle down in front of her, she asked, "Are there any job openings here?"
The bartender thought for a moment. "Well, we don't need any more bartenders."
Jondy's head dropped in despair.
"But…"
Her head snapped up, eager for the glimmer of a possibility.
"We could use some…live entertainment."
Her eyes narrowed. "I don't strip, if that's what you mean." She didn't mind getting a little down and dirty, but even she had limits.
The bartender spread his hands out flat, willing her to wait and listen. "I wasn't talkin' about strippin'. This here is a respectable joint."
"I'm sure," she replied dryly. "So what kind of…entertainment, are you looking for?"
"Well, can ya sing?"
Jondy considered. She'd never tried, so she didn't know. But she didn't want to tell him that. Besides, she was a fast learner. Not to mention that this may have been the only available job in San Francisco.
"Damn straight I can. When do I start?"
~*~
Zack took a seat in a secluded corner of the bar, hidden by the shadows. The place reeked of alcohol and cigarette smoke. No kidding. It was a bar. In fact, it even had that smoggy look to complete the effect. He scanned the crowd for Jondy, but she was nowhere to be seen. He had seen her come in, had followed her here in fact. She didn't even notice. Must be slipping.
After she left her apartment in Redding, he had searched California for tattoo parlors where barcodes had been removed, knowing Jondy had hers removed once a month. He didn't even want to think about what would have happened if she had left California. He also knew that Jondy didn't drink, so he was mystified when she got off her bike, gave the bouncer a high five, and walked into the bar.
Fifteen minutes later, he still hadn't seen her and was about to get up and leave. Just then, the lights in the already-dim bar darkened. That alone got a few whistles. Then the bartender took out a megaphone from behind the bar and announced, "Ladies an' gentlemen – I use the term loosely…" He waited for the few snickers to die down before continuing. "It is with great pleasure that I present Lady Luck herself, the Spirit of San Francisco…Kismet!"
Whoops and hollers greeted this announcement, including a few comments like, "She can make me lucky any day." Zack was starting to get a bad feeling about this. It didn't get any better when he saw who "Kismet" was.
Jondy stood on the bar, her feline eyes fierce, liberally rimmed with smoky grey eyeliner. Her chalky emerald eyeshadow brought out the green in her eyes while her teeth were blindingly white against the harsh ruby red lipstick. Her outfit, or lack thereof, was all black leather and lace. She wore a black see-through mesh tank over a black tube top, a black leather jacket, black leather shorts that looked like they had been painted on, black fishnets, and high black leather boots. Who said neo-Gothic wasn't in style?
The music started and she began singing. Her voice was sultry and smooth, flowing out over the audience that consisted mostly of horny drunks.
"What's the time?
Well it's gotta be close to midnight
My body's talking to me
It says, 'Time for danger'."
She swung around a pole and landed on the floor, crouched down.
"It says 'I wanna commit a crime
Wanna be the cause of a fight
Wanna put on a tight skirt and flirt
With a stranger'."
Singing this, she sat in some guy's lap, obviously making his day.
"I've had a knack from way back
At breaking the rules once I learn the games."
She stood up, moving between the tables. She stopped before a guy who had slumped to the floor and shoved him back into the seat.
"Get up - life's too quick
I know someplace sick
Where this chick'll dance in the flames."
She jumped onto a table and started dancing, her body swaying to the rhythm. One guy stuck a few dollar bills down her boot.
"We don't need any money
I always get in for free
You can get in, too
If you get in with me."
She leaped off the table gracefully, her legs extended in a split. Zack wondered that her shorts didn't rip.
"Let's go out tonight
I have to go out tonight
You wanna play?
Let's run away
We won't be back before it's Christmas Day
Take me out tonight."
She worked her way down the bar, sometimes pausing to flirt with a customer. One of them grabbed her butt; her elbow met his temple and he went down.
They cheered. They fucking cheered.
"When I get a wink from the doorman
Do you know how lucky you'll be?
That you're on line with the feline of Avenue B."
She winked at the bouncer, who grinned. Zack wondered what their relationship was, exactly.
'Jealous? You're the one who left,' he chided himself. But he had to leave. He would have risked everything if he stayed. 'So?' a small voice in the back of his mind asked. It was the same voice that told him to stay when Jondy said she needed him. It was a voice he rarely listened to unless he was around her.
"Let's go out tonight
I have to go out tonight
You wanna prowl
Be my night owl?
Well take my hand we're gonna howl
Out tonight."
She lay down on the bar, her voice lowering.
"In the evening, I've got to roam
Can't sleep in the city of neon and chrome
Feels too damn much like home
When the Spanish babies cry."
She spun around and stood up, her voice climbing.
"So let's find a bar
So dark we forget who we are
And all the scars from the
Nevers and maybes die
Let's go out tonight
Have to go out tonight."
She leaned down, nearly face-to-face with a guy who must have been breathing toxic fumes in her face.
"You're sweet
Wanna hit the street?
Wanna wail at the moon like a cat in heat?
Just take me out tonight
Please take me out tonight."
Another guy, who apparently hadn't seen the first casualty, put his hand on her leg. Her boot slammed into his face and he fell off the stool with a gratifying thump.
"Don't forsake me - out tonight
I'll let you make me - out tonight
Tonight - tonight - tonight!"
She ended up the way she had started, her head thrown back, arms raised in a triumphant pose, as the lights blacked out.
~*~
In a way, the whistles and catcalls that followed her offstage (offbar?) were flattering. They liked her, although whether it was for her body or her voice… She decided she didn't want to know. The point was that business in the bar had started booming after she came, and that's all that mattered. That made her indispensable and her future, financially at least, as long as she was in San Francisco, was secure. And her shorts were safe for another night.
Zack was here. She had known it ever since he had started following her a few blocks away from her apartment. She should have known that he'd find her eventually. He always did, damn him. Why couldn't he just take a hint? If leaving her apartment in the middle of night wasn't enough of a hint for him, then he was pretty damn slow on the uptake.
Entering the room that doubled as her dressing room, she took off her jacket, flinging it over a chair. Next were the boots; they were cool for a while, but after the third or fourth hour, they started to hurt. She removed her mesh tank, then went to work on her shorts. Getting them off was a process. She wore a black seamless thong underneath so she wouldn't have any panty lines. It was also a precaution in case her shorts did decide to rip.
She had just gotten her fishnets off when someone knocked on the door. "Just a second!" she called.
The door started to open. "I said, just a second!" When the door kept opening, Jondy hastily grabbed the nearest thing, her jacket, to cover her, as it opened all the way.
Zack was there, leaning against the doorframe. "I'm trying to change!" she hissed, trying not to raise her voice and barely succeeding. He was looking at her, but not at her eyes. And yes, she was fully aware of how insufficiently the jacket was covering her.
"I have to talk to you."
"Well, can you wait?" she asked exasperatedly.
"If I do, will you still be here?" It was a fair question, one she wasn't eager to answer. "That's what I thought."
"Get out. You're right," she said as he started to say something, "I don't want to talk to you. So leave."
She tried to close the door, but Zack was in the way.
"No."
Zack was about two seconds away from an intimate encounter with the floor.
"Well, if you're not going to leave, at least turn around and give me some privacy so I can get dressed."
"You weren't even wearing that much the last time we talked."
Slowly, she leaned towards him until their faces were inches apart.
"Neither were you."
He met her gaze evenly, his eyes unreadable. She realized that she couldn't remember him being surprised, or at least looking surprised, by anything. She closed the distance between them and kissed him, just to see what would he would do. Without any hesitation, he kissed her back.
A few minutes later, she was starting to feel heady from oxygen deprivation.
Wait, this wasn't supposed to be happening! She was mad at him, and rightly so. She pushed away from him and socked him in the stomach. Or at least, she tried to. He caught her fist and twisted her arm behind her.
"A good soldier doesn't let his emotions take control." Oy, he was using his "soldier" voice again. Like she was impressed.
Jondy elbowed him in the stomach.
"Look who's talking."
He let go of her and she spun around to face him.
"Zack, you're an asshole and I want you to leave so I can get dressed."
"Gee, Jondy, why don't you tell me how you really feel."
"Gee, Zack, why don't you try to be funny."
They glared at each other, neither willing to back down. Finally, telling herself that she was being the mature one, Jondy sighed, loudly, so he knew just how much of a pain in the ass he was to her, and walked away. She threw the jacket back over the chair, glancing in the mirror to see if he was watching her. He was. She was surprised to realize that it didn't bother her, and that bothered her. If it had been anyone else, she would have introduced her foot to his solar plexus just for looking.
She slid into her jeans and tied her hair back, heading over to the sink to wash her face. Once her gaudy makeup was gone, she turned around, only to find Zack standing about three feet away from her.
Without her makeup, she looked younger, more innocent, although Zack knew she wasn't either of those things. She looked like the girl next door, a normal girl with a normal life. But she wasn't that either, and she couldn't be even if she wanted to. She was a soldier, trained to kill, like they all were, although you couldn't tell that from her soft honey blonde hair or her delicate face.
But her eyes betrayed her. Flecked with gold, they were the color of the ocean, sometimes gray, sometimes blue, sometimes green, sometimes a combination. They were also as deep as the ocean, bottomless, with hidden secrets. Anyone who looked into her eyes would know that her body was only a physical shell, that her soul was ancient. But Jondy had a way of putting up shields, mirrors that would only reflect what she saw, nothing more, nothing less. Nothing of the person underneath.
Her voice, clearly irritated, brought him back to attention.
"You know I hate when you do that."
"First you didn't notice me following you, now this. You're slipping, Jondy."
She would have laughed if she hadn't known he was being serious.
"FYI, you're the one who's slipping. I noticed you. You're the one who didn't notice me noticing you."
He gave her one of those looks that meant he wasn't sure if she was kidding, and if she was, she shouldn't be.
She shook her head. "You are such a killjoy, Zack."
"I try."
"I know."
Perching on a stool, she tugged her big black combat boots on. "So why are you here?"
"You left without telling me."
"So did you."
Now she was the one who met his look squarely, her eyes defiant.
"You know why I had to leave."
"First of all, yeah, I do know, but that doesn't mean I have to like it. Second, you found me, didn't you? So what are you complaining about?"
"I have to know where you are at all times. We can't let anything personal get in the way of everyone's safety."
"Anything personal?" She restrained the urge to smack him all the way into next Tuesday. Barely. "Zack, don't you ever…want anything to be personal?"
For a moment, she almost thought he would answer. Then his face became emotionless and he said, "What I want – what we want – is immaterial. We're soldiers."
Any attempts for self-control dissipated when he said that. She punched him. Her fist connected solidly with his jaw and he took a step back, astonished that she had hit him. Her lip curled back, baring teeth. "You had it coming, Zack."
She grabbed her jacket and left before he could stop her.
~*~
"Do not attempt to adjust your set. This is a Streaming Freedom video bulletin. This cable hack is being beamed to you right across America. It cannot be traced. It cannot be stopped. This is a message for those known as X-5. You have been compromised. You are in danger. You know what to do. I repeat, your locations have been compromised. You know what to do. This message will repeat every hour on the hour until each of you has checked in."
~*~
Jondy jumped off the bar and wiped her face with the towel Lou offered. For once, she would have liked to perform for someone other than a drunk who could barely keep his seat on the stool. But you take what you can get, and this was all Jondy could get. Besides, it paid the rent and that was all that mattered.
Her performance had been more…enthusiastic than usual. Maybe because her usual flirting was turning into an open invitation to get laid. One guy ran his hand across her backside and, instead of her usual retribution, she had rubbed against him, practically begging for more. She was in heat again, and she hated it.
Part of her wished that Zack was here. He always took the edge off. But she hadn't seen him for two months. Lucky for him, another part of her snarled. Who knew what she'd do if she saw him again? Yeah, she thought regretfully, who knew?
She sipped her beer slowly. She had discovered that alcohol dulled the need. It also dulled the rest of her senses, but she was willing to do anything to keep from screwing every last guy in the place… She watched a guy walk by, her eyes trailing appreciatively down his… She downed the rest of the beer hurriedly.
While she was lost in her thoughts, floating high on a cloud of oblivion, someone brushed her hair over her shoulder, baring her neck. The hair on the back of her neck prickled delightfully at the sensation. She turned around. Part of her was hoping it was Zack, but another part of her was hesitant, even afraid, of seeing him again.
But it wasn't him. It was someone much, much worse.
She knew she was in trouble when even Lydecker appearing didn't bring her back to her senses.