I don't have a beta.
I tried to write Ash for this chapter how I imagine he probably was before he met Mary Lynette in the books: smooth, suave, and incredibly bad at actually knowing anything about women. If him being a blatant misogynist and admitting to it in Daughters Of Darkness aint good enough for you people to believe this, then I don't know what is!
She kept. coming. in.
Sure, business was business and Ash wasn't complaining… but he kinda was. Sometimes it was with friends, sometimes alone, but she'd always order politely and sit quietly. Since the first time, she'd been perfectly civil. Ash didn't get it.
But why bother trying to understand. In Ash's opinion women were fickle beasts, and vermin women were even worse. So what if she was surprisingly pretty? So what if her outright hatred of him was endearing, challenging even?
"Stop it," he muttered, earning a wide eyed look from a customer, "Wait, sorry, not you!"
The customer wandered away, leaving him with a full shot of Mary Lynette. He caught her eye, looked away. Her hair was tied up in an impeccably neat ponytail, he noted. She was beautiful.
Fuck, fuck this. Damn. God.
He looked at the clock. 30 minutes until closing time. It had somehow hit 8:30, and the sun was starting to cast long shadows on the square the cafe looked out onto. Ash could feel relief seeping into him at the sight of the darkness, even under the harsh glow of artificial light. He wasn't exactly new to the whole sunlight business, but life on the island had always been composed largely of waiting until dusk to go outside - hot summer months spent in the shade of trees and in humid classrooms. The nights were filled with the thrill of the hunt, of running through forests and acting like an adult but feeling like a child at town meetings. The outside world was so different. He blinked, swallowed.
Mary Lynette was right in front of him.
"Can I have a refill?" She asked, making him jump.
Ash flashed a signature grin and tried to look apologetic, "Sorry, but we're closing soon! I think Dickey's is opening in an hour if you want something stronger?"
She shifted the weight of her bad and smiled, "are you meant to recommend that your patrons take their business elsewhere?"
"Trust me - if we could sell alcohol, we would. I've been campaigning for months."
He looked every where but her eyes.
"I was in a really bad mood that day." She said abruptly, and Ash was left wondering why in the holy hell she was making this more awkward than it had to be. He wasn't one for awkwardness - actually he wasn't really one for maintaining friendships long enough to make awkward mistakes. And yet here he was, with not a single soul in the shop besides himself and this human woman stood right in front of him, apologising for something he barely even cared about. Jesus christ please.
How to play this cool.
"It's fine," he said, leaning against the rack behind him, "I know how women are with these kinda things, y'know."
She narrowed her eyes, and he got the first glimpse of her anger since their initial encounter, "What do you mean?"
Tread lightly, Ash, he thought, lightly.
"Well, I mean, I've dated a fair few women in my lifetime. You always get pissy around your time of the month, I don't blame you."
Nailed it.
She gave him a look of utter disgust and stormed out of the store, rattling the glass of the door with the force of her slamming it.
Double nailed it. Maybe she'll never come back.
Ash found himself locking up with a smug look on his face.
"Honestly, it's disgusting," Quinn said after sidling into the kitchen and pretending to be interested in what Ash was doing, "I can't believe it."
Ash was used to the routine - Quinn would stand around looking like he had something to say, make some vague comments about his hatred of things, and then launch right into-
"She tried to follow me home. Again."
Ash rolled his eyes and turned around, "really, who?"
"You know who," Quinn settled down into one of the kitchen chairs with a sigh and an overdramatic frown on his face, "the human. Hunter. I can't remember her name."
"The one that set you free?" Ash stirred his coffee. He loved living with Quinn - he loved that he could drink coffee and eat entire pizzas and watch the cold impassive look on Quinn's face that he was SURE meant jealousy. But he could never really tell with Quinn, the dude was like a fucking statue.
"Well, yeah. Is she even going to try and kill me? I lost her on the other side of town. I've given her about 200 chances to try it, so I don't really get it."
Ash shrugged, "dunno, wanna go hunting?"
Quinn folded his arms, curled in on himself. Ash was tempted to make about 500 jokes about how short Quinn was maybe write a book, but he held back. The man was obviously brooding over some human girl, and Ash knew any jokes about reporting him to the elders would have him out on the streets and (probably) dead.
"Sure," he said finally, "whatever."
And off they went.
They were unstoppable. A dynamic duo that charmed women and men alike with a perfect mix of mind control and being pretty. Those few rare souls that wouldn't be won over by Quinn's soulless eyes and Ash's boyish charm (self proclaimed) were easily won over by alcohol and, well, alcohol. Sometimes when Ash was walking arm in arm with a beautiful woman he became nervous that this was wrong in some way - meals on the island were always placid, doe eyed and consenting. These women were all going out to have fun with their friends and essentially being assaulted. Quinn liked to go after goths, too, which seemed kinda weird to Ash. Whatever though, he wasn't gonna judge.
His prey of the night looked up at him, eyes heavy and thoroughly seduced. For not the first time since moving out into the human world did he feel like a bad person.
"Wow, I didn't realise you had clothes that didn't say 'trainee' on them," someone yelled in his ear. He turned around, finding a girl he'd never seen before grinning at him.
"What's it to you?" The girl on his arm was beginning to get confused, and he realised he had to get out of there fast. Quinn was nowhere to be seen, the music was making his head hurt, he was hungry and tired. Bored.
"I'm Michele," she said, "my friend has like, the HUGEST crush on you!"
"I don't really care. I need to go."
He turned to leave, but Michele grabbed his arm. Well, I say grabbed it. Really he could've slipped out of her grasp like liquid, grabbed her by the shoulder and slammed her into the floor; maybe even drained her in front of all these people. But he wouldn't, he couldn't.
The girl was squirming now, pushing herself away from him.
"Sorry to be so rude," Michele said, "but you're a huge asshole. She comes in every day and then you have the audacity to be horrible to her just because your manager isn't there, or whatever. I ordinarily wouldn't say anything, but-"
Ash shook her loose, let go of the girl panicking next to him, and got out of there like a bat out of hell.
Quinn found him two days later in his room. The curtains were drawn and the room was silent, as it had been since that night.
"You look sick as hell," Quinn said, stepping into the room, "it smells bad in here. When did you last feed?"
"Um. Monday?" Ash burrowed further under his covers, "I called in sick at work."
"This isn't like you. You're going to suffocate. You're lucky I came back, you know. I'll go out and grab you something."
"Thanks." Ash poked his head out from the covers, his face a pallid circle in a swathe of patterns, "where you been?"
"You know, the usual. I'll tell you when I get back."
Quinn returned 20 minutes later with a dog, a fact Ash thought was maybe a joke until he saw the look on Quinn's face. Or lack of look, I guess. It was all in the eyes with Quinn.
He drank hesitantly at first, and then like a drowning man gasping for air. He didn't care where Quinn had gotten the mutt, or that it was actually close to drinking a werewolf (which was foul by the way), or about anything really.
"So where've you been?" He asked when he was done, earning a shrug from Quinn.
"Eh. This and that. Got kidnapped."
"Why aren't we both dead by now then?"
Quinn shoved the dog into a bin bag as he thought, "that girl. I guess."
"What, that hunter? She's out for you, man. Why don't you just turn her if you're so into her."
Quinn looked at him like he'd just shot his father, "how dare you insinuate I'd do anything like that."
Ash just shrugged, "whatever. I need to go make some phone calls."
As it turns out, Mary Lynette wasn't publically listed. It probably didn't help that Ash didn't know her last name - but he figured she probably lived alone. He really didn't know, and it was annoying him.
The two days of suicidal brooding had brought him to one conclusion - he had to nip this in the bud. He was losing his edge; this was the second time in a number of weeks that he'd been thrown off the hunt by her or something relating to her, and he was kind of hoping that if he apologised or something (maybe bought her a car) it'd make the problem go away, and he'd go back to normal.
He hoped. His chest hurt when he thought of her.
SORRY THAT NOTHING REALLY HAPPENS IN THIS CHAPTER! O: I'm just kinda writing? I have a lot to write. I don't want them to suddenly get together it seems kinda random to me. Also this Quinn/Rashel subplot is consuming me and i love it. I cant believe im writing this. my google docs page is full of half finished NW fanfiction. Go read my Divine Intervention update if ur interested, its about angels etc. Someone asked me to update Casanova, and it was awful, but maybe? i dont know. maybe ill just keep posting every day until you all like it. maybe i'll write strange fate personally.
