The club had just opened up for business but while the music was pumping and the night prepared to get wild, somewhere in the back the red head was going over some of the new inventory they had received. Her thoughts were scattered between determining where to have these things arranged, the club rent which was due soon, and having to pick up her brother…
"Oh god, not again!" she silently cursed herself for having forgotten. "Gar's going to be so mad at me!"
She may have been busy running a club but her adoptive brother was very deeply important to her. And she probably wouldn't hear the end of it now. Garfield would proceed to call her the worst sister ever. Megan hit her head with her hand. Her guess was their Uncle John had gone ahead and picked him up already, after seeing him on his way home from work. Immediately she remembered having received a missed call a couple of hours ago, that had most likely been him. Yet she couldn't blame him, because now she was furious with herself. But instead of coming down from the five feet ladder she was standing on, her hand reached for her back pocket pulling out her phone.
He answered immediately, "Yea, boss?"
"I know it's your day off, but think you can do this one thing for me?"
On the other line the person preceded to disagreeing on her pleads, but she continued to insist anyways, "Come on, please. Just pick him up and let him sleep over at your brother's place, just for tonight."
She was practically begging, "It's a mess over here," she explained, "and I'm nowhere near making it home anytime soon."
Eventually an agreement was set and she returned her attention back to the stocking room, still hanging onto the ladder.
"Megan, are you back here?"
That was Conner.
The next thing she remembered was losing her balance as the ladder came tumbling down, the shout of her name, all followed by his rough arms embracing her in a safe grip.
"You…ok?" his firm voice managed to ask.
Their eyes met at the exact same moment, with what seemed to go on much longer than they had expected, so still remaining in the exact same position on the floor.
"Conner," she gasped, "you're…"
He sent a gentle smile her way, before losing hold of the grip.
She was unable to finish the sentence watching him trying to resist his pain, but by the side of the floor Megan was aware, there were drops of his blood.
"Hold still." Megan insisted finally managing to finish wrapping the rest of his arm.
He had been trying to avoid making eye contact during this whole thing, but Conner was well aware of the looks Megan sneaked and her bright blushing cheeks. If it hadn't been for the scissors she had had on her at that instant, he would have been able to walk away from the situation with probably just a bruise. Yet here they were because of that darn thing which had formed a huge cut on his left arm.
Megan sighed heavily, "Ok, you're done."
Conner took a look at the damage done and nodded in approval. An awkward silence then settled in between them. While their background was filled with the loud exploding music from the club, the locker room remained quiet, with neither of them discussing much more.
Until she spoke up, her words firm and serious, "I want you to take the rest of the night off."
He glared up at her; she had placed her hands on her hips with one of those looks that could only mean she was dead serious. But he refused.
"I'm fine."
"Go home Conner, that's an order."
Megan took a step forward and proceeded to walk away, but he grabbed her arm before she got a chance to. Her thoughts were puzzling because she stood there unsure if she should even look back at all.
"Let go," her words were but a soft call.
"Look at me, Megan." The way he said her name – that's what did it. She made the mistake of looking back at those cold blue eyes of his. And she remembered the countless of times when they had been in this very room, where they had found the time to sneak into the back and exchange more gentle touches.
Except, not anymore.
Things had changed, and it was clear nothing was the same as before.
Conner found a way to somehow pull her gradually into his arms, and she placed her warm hands on his shoulders, just like they used to. Neither of them shared a smile but simply stood there recognizing the familiar hold of one another. And this time, he was the one to disrupt the silence.
"Megan…" he struggled, "I –"
She gently covered his lips with cold fingers, and slowly leaned in, barely reaching his ear.
"Please Conner," she managed to whisper, as he closed his eyes to the sound of her voice so close.
Her hands were raised up to his face where she lightly stroked his dark black hair. There was a strange chill he felt, and she suddenly closed in meeting her soft lips right on his forehead.
Till her voice miserably said, "just go."
The feeling of her words lingered there for a few moments and after it had passed he opened his eyes and she was gone. Conner stood up and walked over to the end of the lockers, found his where he removed his keys, and began to close it half way and stopped. With his good hand he slammed it as hard as he could, and left through the same door as she had.
In the back the single exit door opened up quietly, from the shadows emerged Logan. He lingered for mere moment thinking about what he had just witnessed. Then turned back returning to his post, eventually deciding he would be there for the red head, when no one else seemed to be.
