"Yo, Vause," Nicky hollered from the door to the alley. "How long's it going to take you to bring in this shipment?"
Jameson Vause, shirtless, soaked in sweat, and looking deeply annoyed, appeared around side of the delivery truck. The 24-year-old was the spitting image of his mother, from his jet black hair and towering height to his piercing green eyes. Hell, he'd even inherited Alex's signature eyebrow cock and only thing missing were the signature secretary glasses, as the kid had somehow managed to inherit 20/20 vision.
"It'd go a lot quicker if you would help instead of shouting at me every ten minutes"
Nicky couldn't fight her grin. She loved Jamie like he was her own son and was happy to hire him on as a bartender in her pub, but it was the kid's knack for banter that made her keep him on for the past three years.
"In that case, take your time," Nicky replied before disappearing back into the bar.
Jameson rolled his eyes and returned to the task at hand. It was about a thousand degrees outside, and the New York summer wasn't going to take any mercy on him. If he hustled, he might even have time to run home and grab a shower before his shift. One tended to get more tips if one didn't smell like a locker room.
"This is the last of 'em, boss," Jameson called as he brought the last crate of beer up to the front to stock for his upcoming shift. "You know, I think it's time we discussed my raise."
As he came out of the backroom, Jameson noticed an extremely gorgeous blonde girl sitting at the bar. Nicky was nowhere in sight.
"Hey."
"H-hello," the girl sputtered before averting her gaze.
Jameson glanced down and realized he was still shirtless. With a smirk, he found the black t-shirt he'd left under the bar and pulled it over his head.
"Normally I never turn away anyone that looks as good as you do, but unfortunately, we're closed." Jameson leaned on the bar top across from where the girl was sitting. "See, my boss is kind of a hardass, and I don't want to give her anymore reasons to ride me."
The blonde opened her mouth to speak, and Jameson found that he could not look away from her pink lips. However, before she could get a word out, Nicky reappeared. To Jameson's surprise, she looked a little uncomfortable.
"Ah. You're already done. I thought you'd be out there a little longer...uh, well, uh...oh, fuck it. Vause, this is Chapman. Chapman, Vause."
Jameson shook his head at Nicky's odd behavior.
"Hi," the blonde smiled, "I'm Paris Chapman."
"Jameson," the dark-haired boy replied.
"Chapman, here, just moved to the city to prove to us all how fuckin' smart she is."
"I'm here for graduate school," Paris translated when Jameson shot her a confused look.
"To-may-to, to-maw-to," Nicky shrugged. "Anyway, her mother and I go way back, and she asked if I'd help make this lonely old city feel like home for her little girl. Isn't that right, blondie?"
Paris blushed.
"You're doing a hell of a job of it so far, Nick," Jameson teased.
Nicky flipped him off before starting for her office.
"Look, I got a killer hangover to nurse before we open, so can you show the gal around a bit?" the wild-haired woman asked Jameson. Then turning to Paris, she added, "I swear we can play family tomorrow."
She gave them both an over-exaggerated salute before disappearing behind her office door. Jameson shook his head in exasperation.
"I have to stock up before tonight, but then we can get out of here and do a little exploring. Can I get you anything while you wait?"
"A margarita?" the blonde asked sweetly.
"Perfect drink for this kind of weather."
It wasn't long before Paris was sipping on the best margarita she'd ever had while Jameson stacked glasses and loaded the coolers. There was a comfortable silence between them, but Jameson's husky voice broke through it.
"So Paris," he drawled while he polished shot glasses. "That's an interesting name. Like the city or the mythology?"
Paris looked up in surprise and was met with Jameson's shrug.
"I read," he quipped with a smirk.
The blonde laughed in response, earning a genuine smile from the dark-haired bartender.
"Like the city," Paris answered after she'd caught her breath. "My mother named me after the place that changed her life forever...or so she always said."
Jameson nodded with a smile.
"Jameson is not exactly a common name either," Paris pressed.
"Yeah, well, my story's a little less poetic," he said with humor in his eyes.
Paris waited patiently for Jameson to continue.
"I'm named after the drink that convinced my mother to decide to have me."
Paris waited to see if he was joking, but when he continued working as if nothing was out of the ordinary, she pushed aside her empty margarita glass.
"Hold on. That deserves some explanation."
"Does it?" he retorted with an eyebrow cocked in amusement. "My mom had already purchased the sperm donation. She just needed a little liquid courage to actually go through with the process."
"Sperm donation," Paris repeated as if she was trying to piece together Jameson's backstory.
"Yup. My mom is all gay, all the time, but she got hit with the baby fever. Hence the donation."
"Oh."
Jameson smirked and finished the last of his opening duties.
"My mom is too," Paris blurted as Jameson was taking the trash to the back. "Gay, that is. Or she is sometimes...I don't know."
"Well, we'll definitely need to make sure they never meet."
"Why's that?" Paris asked, her head tilted adorably to the side.
"Because if your mom is as hot as you are, my mom won't waste any time in trying to pick her up," he replied casually before disappearing into the backroom and leaving Paris blushing fiercely.
On his way back out to the bar, Jameson felt a pair of hands grab the back of his shirt and pull him into the office.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Nicky whisper-shouted.
Jameson opened his mouth to reply, but Nicky shoved a finger against his lips.
"Nuh-uh. Zip it. Stop flirting with blondie."
"Can you move your finger?" Jameson mumbled against Nicky's invasive digit. When she complied, he added, "Thank you! Jesus, I shudder to think where that thing has been."
"You wish yours had seen as much action...wait, this was not the point of this little pow-wow," Nicky said, catching herself getting distracted.
"You were warning me off Paris…"Jameson offered.
"Right! Look, I know she's a looker, definitely your type."
Jameson was nodding along and smirking.
"But it can never happen," Nicky said resolutely.
"Can I ask why not?"
"No."
Jameson cocked an eyebrow, causing Nicky to pinch the bridge of her nose and sigh dramatically.
"Look, it's a long story. Maybe someday I'll tell you. Maybe not. It's probably your mother's story to tell anyway-." Nicky stopped abruptly. "Jesus fuck, kid. Just take the girl by my apartment, get her settled in, and get your ass back here for your shift. You think you can manage that?"
Jameson definitely had questions, but he respected Nicky enough to knock it off for now. He shrugged and exited the office, wondering why his boss had brought his mom up. He found Paris where he'd left her.
"You're probably ready to get out of here and get settled in at Nicky's. So, what do you say?" he asked, offering her his arm.
Paris just laughed and swatted his arm away as she slid off the stool. Jameson feigned hurt before snatching up the blonde's overlarge, couture duffle bag and gesturing for her to follow him.
***A/N: Thanks to those of your who chose to follow along with me as I see where this story goes. Obviously, I'm a huge fan of Alex and Piper together, so maybe I'll find a way to make that work in this story. Maybe not. Either way, it's a Vauseman endgame, right? I'd love to hear your thoughts! ***
