Guilt Is Not What He Feels
Summary: The last thing Danny had anticipated was getting together with Jade of all people, a dark, satanic girl in comparison to the usual saint-like Lacey. Where Lacey had popularity and mocha skin, Jade made up for it in attitude and ivory shaded porcelain beneath his fingertips; polar opposites, but a fact that made it so much more of a challenge.
Rating: T
Pairing: Danny/Jade
AN: I have wanted to write a cross-over for Twisted and Victorious for the longest time, until tonight's episode completely fit into how I wanted to work Jade into a fic. Although Danny did get together with Lacey-which I hate.
I still ship him with Jade anyway.
Anyway, read it.
~Nat
[OoOoOoO]
By now, Danny's head was swirling a bit as he stared down at Tara Desai's grave, some scrawled words summing up her life, but not what was wrong with her - what she'd done. She was a horrible woman; he had felt his killing had been justified. She was just another wicked soul that deserved to be done away with.
His eyes skimmed down to the empty beer bottle in his hand, which he smashed against her gravestone; the bottle shattering into hundreds of shards and splaying themselves neatly around her grave stone.
Danny nearly smirked. He was alive, she wasn't. He should feel happy-but yet he wasn't. He couldn't get the girl he wanted, accusations of murder and poisoning were thrown at his face on a daily basis, his relationship with his Mother was nonexistent and apparently, his Father had been involved with Regina, and he had just been kicked off of the only thing that kept him positively linked with his Father.
This was hardly an ideal situation, but that practically summed up his life. Maybe he'd request that to be put on his gravestone when he died.
He stumbled away from her grave and paused, shaking his head. He swore he was someone leering over a few gravestones down, staring at a single one. If he squinted, the figure appeared to be feminine, so it was a girl. But who went to a cemetery at night? At least he had a reason.
So he did the sane thing, considering his reasoning was lacking in every situation recently, he approached the girl. He took slow, sluggish steps, his head practically pounding, but he attempted to muster up some sanity to talk to her.
As he came closer, he saw her turn her head to look at him. She had fairly short brown hair, styled particularly like she spent time doing it in the morning; a fair amount of make-up, highlighting her large eyes, cerulean in the dark. She was definitely good looking; he would admit that any day of the week. And with Lacey's constant rejection, he needed a distraction.
"Being at a cemetery in night, not exactly the safest thing to do. Haven't you heard there's suspected murderers lurking around?" Danny greeted huskily, his usual sick-sense of humor sprouting out.
He noticed her eyes narrow slightly, filling with mirth. She found it amusing. "I'm just visiting." She brushed it off. "Although I make it a thing, visiting the cemetery at night. It's far more enchanting now than it is at night." She looked smug. "Murderers don't scare me, I live with one." She bit out, and Danny found her tone oddly alluring.
Danny laughed shortly. "Oh really? How refreshing, someone who isn't going to go running for the hills; don't get me wrong, I'm not a murderer. I'm Danny-"
"Desai?" She cut in for him. "I'm aware of who you are, your face and name's plastered over every newspaper I've laid my eyes on. Killed your Aunt when you were what-eleven? Jump rope?" Now it was his turn for his eyes to narrow in skepticism.
"That was the item, yes." He glanced down, before taking a few steps forward so he was in front of her, noticing his height advantage absently. "But if you're so new in town, how do you know so much about me?" He quizzed, finding her unsettling.
The girl smirked in a sly way. "I know everything about you. Your background, your relatives, I know your story Danny." She tilted her head, raising her eyebrows.
Danny cracked a smile. "And you haven't gone running for the hills yet-why?"
"I'm not scared of you." She responded easily. "I figured I made that clear. I live with a murderer." She folded her arms, straightening her spine to level the height difference somewhat. He was only half a head taller than her. "That and probably because you have an uncanny resemblance to my ex."
"Oh really? Sounds like he was a good looking guy." He retorted vainly, though in a playful way.
She was quick to return it. "He was, a bit of an asshole, but definitely good looking." They shared a smile before hers disappeared as soon as it spread across her face.
"So, is it doable that I can learn my certified stalker's name?" He asked.
She snickered, looking coy. "I suppose. Jade, Jade West." He finally had something to call her.
"Alright Jade, what are you doing here tonight? Other than running into your idol, or whatever I am in your mind." It was his turn to be coy, in which she didn't take the bait and scowled.
"Your ego needs a beating Desai." She glanced down at the grave she had situated herself in front of, drawing his gaze as well. The name 'Augustine Marie West' scrawled around the top in gruesome script, an equally horrendous quote beneath it in the same text:
"Life is such unutterable hell, solely because it is sometimes beautiful. If we could only be miserable all the time, if there could be no such things as love or beauty or faith or hope, if I could be absolutely certain that my love would never be returned: how much more simple life would be."
Jade exhaled quickly. "It's my Grandmother's grave, I visit it around his time of year. For some reason, she requested it to be dug here. I'm not sure of the relations, but it is quite far off the beaten path."
Danny made a little noise. "Damn, seems your Grandmother had-interesting taste in quotes."
"Just as you have interesting taste in murder weapons." She retorted.
He cracked a smile at that. "And what exactly is your preference?"
She leaned down, reaching a hand into her boot and pulling out a pair of silver scissors, glinting in the moonlight with the hint of promise. Danny whistled upon laying eyes on the instrument, looking at her with a newfound curiosity. "Interesting girl. Visits cemeteries at night, carries scissors in her boots, has an interest in my backstory."
Jade scoffed. "I only come here at night because I don't like driving during the day."
"And why's that?" He asked.
"That's my secret." She pressed a black-nailed finger to her lips in a shushing motion, replacing her arm. "I'm sure you have plenty I'm unaware of, but that's hardly what I care about."
Danny raised his eyebrows. "You're a quick learner, aren't you?"
"No." She shook her head. "Just a very good actress." She met his eyes and kept his stare, not hesitant nor showing any signs of being scared. Not your typical teenage girl, but not that he should have anticipated that.
Her brown hair, prestigiously styled; a rough, bitter attitude that she obviously kept as a façade to shield her true feelings; and while he was drunk off his ass, it had never been more alluring. Plus, he looked like her ex and that was a bonus.
Something about her was drawing him in and he was quick to reciprocate; crossing the little distance between them and pressing his lips to her. They were soft, inviting; she knew how to kiss definitely. Then again, so did he.
His fingers wrapped around her wrists, backing her up against a larger gravestone just behind her Grandmother's, pinning her there with his body, using his height to an advantage. He figured she was a girl who enjoyed this, being dominated. Her dominative personality was cute, different even - but something about her spelt out 'take me'.
Danny pressed against her, raising her wrists above her head and forcing them to stay there, his lips repeatedly intertwining with hers, an odd sense of peace whirling through his mind. That or it may have been the fourth bottle of beer finally sinking into his system and making him do something he wouldn't usually do.
Soon enough, he was dragging his lips down her neck, similar to how he had done to Lacey nearly a half an hour ago, except this time: the girl was all the more willing to give in to his demands and sink against him, putty in his hands.
He watched her throat contract fervently with quick little gasps as he suckled along her ivory skin, so pale in contrast to what he had been layering kisses on earlier. It was a good different, a different that got his mind off of the bitter reality that had become his life five years ago.
With a strength he hadn't known she had, her hands were free and pressing into his shoulders, digging her sharp nails. He had neglected to notice the sharpened points she'd made them, black and dangerous as they dug into the material of his jacket, sliding it off his shoulders.
It was a chilly night, indefinitely, but the heat between them was building at a speedy pace. He let it drop, possibly get muddled with any dirt or mud beneath him, but he had not a care in the world with her doing what she was right now; moving her hips like she was.
He released breaths against her neck, before she pushed him back to rid him of his shirt, scratching her nails down the length of his chest, wordlessly admiring the contours of his faint abs, a more lanky brand of masculinity. Not that she had a problem with it.
Danny captured her lips once more, distracting her enough to rid her of her own leather jacket, letting it pool down beneath her feet, curling his fingers in the fabric of her shirt and letting it rest just underneath her prominent chest; smoothing his rough, calloused hands across the smooth skin of her stomach; a teasing gesture.
That earned a bite from her, a little seductive purr following as he thumbed absently at the waistband of her leggings; thankful that they weren't jeans he'd have to deal with buttons.
Quick enough both of them rid each other of their clothing and had their way with each other in the grass, moans and groans vibrating and echoing through the cemetery, bringing an erotic life to the usually dreary existence.
He had to pause and lie there, catch his breath as he leered above her, admiring her beneath him. She was the epitome of beauty; a vixen he hadn't planned on meeting that night.
The last thing Danny had anticipated was getting together with Jade of all people, a dark, satanic girl in comparison to the usual saint-like Lacey. Where Lacey had popularity and mocha skin, Jade made up for it in attitude and ivory shaded porcelain beneath his fingertips; polar opposites, but a fact that made it so much more of a challenge.
She stirred beneath him, drawing his attention back to her and no longer in his thoughts. Her met her eyes once more, pressing one more kiss to her lips. Something about her seemed forbidden, poisonous and taken.
He spent time tracing her, re-dressing her and shielding her from the cold breeze sifting through the cemetery in ominous waves. She wasn't from around here, he couldn't necessarily keep her.
A one-time encounter he would keep in his mind as he got up, re-dressing himself as she leaned against the very large headstone they'd practically screwed again, taking a drag from a cigarette she had acquired from somewhere that was allusive to him.
"Want a taste?" She asked in a husky tone, obviously still impaired by what they had just done on the ground of the cemetery.
He tugged his jeans on his hips, fiddling with the buckle. "No thanks," He dismissed. "My Father used to do that, was never fond of it."
Jade intentionally blew a ring of smoke his way, raising her eyebrows. "Your loss." She whispered and he felt there was some underlining meaning wedged in there. "Ever get tired of the girl who's tail your chasing after, I'm in L.A., give me a call." She flicked the cigarette but into the grass absently, fixing her jacket, before turning on her heels and heading off, South, into the brush.
Danny looked out after her as she left, a question in his mind: "How do you know I'm chasing someone?" He called after her, Jade not even bothering to stop.
"It's the look in your eyes. You want me, but can't have me. When she breaks your head, I'm open Desai." She turned around walking backwards.
A corner of his mouth turned up. "And how will I contact you?" He continued.
She smirked. "Name's in your phone, I snagged it while you were oogling me. Stay out of prison Desai, nobody like's jail bate." And with a wink, the last he saw of her was her sashaying hips disappearing.
He stood there, dumbfounded. And later when Lacey showed up at his house, telling him that Archie was a thing of the past and was practically handing herself over to him; guilt for what he had done in the cemetery with Jade-that was the last thing on his mind.
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AN: Well that was interesting. Review. I didn't have time to check for mistakes, so this is it.
~Nat
