Chapter Four

Okay. In answer to a question I was asked in class, the story of how Atley and Sphinx met is NOT mine. That wonderful creation belongs solely to the talented Spike Daft in Silence on the Line (It's a great fic and you should read it if you have time). Other than that, I am aware I'm taking some liberties and if they don't add up just drop me a note or review and let me know so I can fix it. And here is chapter four.

DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING BUT THE OCCASSIONAL ORIGINAL CHARACTER AND ONE VERY OLD CHEVELLE SS THAT'S GOING TO EAT ME OUT OF HOUSE AND HOME IN GAS.

By the time Thursday rolled around, Sphinx was sure he was going to strangle Memphis's lover. Sway kept throwing him these odd looks and asking him weird questions about how his relationship was going. She was worse than fucking Atley or Tumbler with this stuff.

Honestly, Otto and Donny had been the best about it by not really saying anything at all. Memphis and Toby were falling somewhere in the middle range, right under Kip and Mirror Man. Surprisingly, it was Mikhail who had come to his rescue the night after the McLaren boost when Chaos called at the pier.

She had thought someone was trying to break in and couldn't get in touch with her brother, so she called him. The others had shot to life, wanting to speak to the girl then trying their damnedest to eaves drop while he quietly told her to calm down and check the locks.

Mikhail had practically bitten Mirror and Tumbler's heads off, telling them to grow the fuck up while he kept trying to get in touch with his sister. The source of said noise turned out to be her cat and a frat party down the hall getting out of hand, causing her to flounder and stutter over the line a she apologized profusely before finally consenting to calling her brother back and going to stay with him.

She had, however, in her sleep and adrenaline fogged mind, slipped up and told him, "I miss you and I hope you don't think I'm crazy for calling about this."

He was certainly happier that she was moving away from the ruckus of campus life, though he still didn't know where. But the incident had made him realize two things.

One: Mikhail was very quick to protect and defend those who he thought of as friends (and how he ended up on that short list, he had no clue), and two: Chaos was definitely worming her way under his skin quicker than he thought possible.

While he and Atley were driving back, Atley actually had to drive the Chevelle for fear that he would blow another motor. When he'd gotten the text from her saying she was on her way to her brother's, he'd relaxed enough to actually function again. He was seriously considering helping her move and then backing off for a few days if not weeks. He was getting in over his head and comfort level here and what bothered him was how little it actually bothered him.

"You looked ready to kill, Sphinx. Is she okay?"

He'd nodded and keyed in the garage code, motioning Atley to go on as he went to make his way upstairs. He knew he'd have to give Atley a detailed account on Friday night, though he didn't relish the thought. They had already decided he would stay there in his flat so they would be ready to move first thing, seeing how Atley had volunteered to help Chaos as well.

Which worked well for him as in he wouldn't be the only one breaking his back on Saturday. He'd already heard from Chaos, as she read her furniture lists aloud, that she had about twenty heavy and ten medium weighted pieces of furniture. Her bed sounded the worst, seeing it was a solid mahogany queen sized canopy . . . . She'd sent him a picture of it on his phone when he'd asked what her heaviest piece of furniture was.

And, God how he wished he'd just left it alone.

Even in the picture, the damn thing was enough to make his back ache. He would definitely have no problem putting her brother and Atley to work.

And then he had to leave her apartment and go help Mikhail's sister move. Maybe, if he was really lucky, the younger idiots would get the heavy lifting done there and all he'd have to do is set boxes and push chairs. He wasn't holding his breath though.

Today, however, he was off and he wasn't going to lament his soon-to-be-dead back or the drama that was sure to happen in two days.

Not only did he have to meet Chaosia's brother, but he had to meet Mikhail's half-sister, Ripley. From what he'd heard from Memphis, the girl was okay, but weird. And she'd driven faster than he or Mikhail could keep up with, even in Eleanor. Sway had been strangely mute on the subject of Mikhail's mystery sister, only telling Kip and Tumbler that, "She's very pretty in a weird way. But she's really sweet. You guys are going to have to be nice, though. You may spook her if you're not careful."

He shook his head, clearing his thoughts as he stood and stretched. Glancing at the clock on his night stand, he lumbered into the bathroom to take a shower. It was already 10:30 AM and he was due to meet Chaos for lunch at noon.

He yawned as he started the water and threw a towel on the vanity, deep in thought as he completed his morning routine. She was taking him to eat then they were going to see her new apartment and the one she was moving from, so he would know how to get there. He'd thought it odd that she'd want to actually take him to both. But after hearing about how directionally challenged her brother is, he'd relented pretty easily, especially for him.

He was rinsing his hair clear of shampoo when he heard the phone start to go off. The theme for The Dead Zone was blaring in his apartment, making him groan and shake his head. Chaosia had taken to calling his work "the dead zone" in their texting conversations and when she talked to him at night, so when she'd gotten hold of his phone at their last coffee date, she'd downloaded the ringtone and set it for his work number, laughing as she did so.

He'd wanted to say no and to stop her, but he figured he could indulge her in that. It wasn't like she asked for a ringtone of her own (though she had one) or anything. She'd just thought it was too good an opportunity to pass up.

He got out of the shower, glaring at the phone and its voicemail icon as he toweled off.

After putting on boxers and pants, he listened to the voicemail. Thankfully, it was just one of the idiots saying that he needed to remember to bring in any back paperwork he was working on tomorrow and they weren't calling him in.

He deleted the message before tossing the phone on his bed on his way to the closet. He grabbed a heather grey shirt and a brown belt, forgoing the usual suspenders just this once. Chaos had joked that she didn't think he owned a belt. Well, he'd prove he did before banishing the damned thing back into the depths of his closet.

He was pulling on his boots when he heard her ringtone going off. He glanced at the clock, brow raised. It was only 11:25 AM. There was no way she was out of class this early . . . . He opened the phone.

"Sphinx? Can you meet me at the University in like twenty minutes? My stupid professor is taking forever to look over these pieces for my final and I'm afraid we won't make it in time if you don't meet me here."

He grinned. She didn't know he had the day off. She thought they were doing this on his lunch break, so of course she would be freaking out now.

"Sure, luv."

She sighed, relieved. "Great, meet me outside the Fine Arts and Drama Building, it's the first one after the Auditorium before the soccer field."

He cringed as she said soccer. She loved the game and even played as a center forward during the season, but she still called it soccer. He would have to break her of that habit one day. It was damn football, not soccer.

"See you then."

He finished getting ready and grabbed his keys and the beige member's only jacket from the coat rack by the door. His poor pea coat hung beside it, still in desperate need of dry-cleaning, but he hadn't mentioned it to Chaos and even avoided the subject entirely. He would eventually let her send it to be cleaned but not until he felt like it. She was spastic enough without having something to fret about, so no need pulling up the coat.

As he walked out the door and flicked off the lights, he could only wonder where they were eating. They'd only had coffee until today and he had no idea what the girl ate. He could only pray she wasn't a vegetarian or some tree hugging loon that only ate tofu . . . whatever happened; this was definitely going to be an informational experience to say the least.

Chaosia was walking out of the building as he pulled up; her messenger bag slung over her should while she lugged this huge tote with her. He shook his head. The art bag was bigger than she was, and cleaner. She was covered in black and grey smudges, her glasses pushed up in her hair to keep her bangs out of her face. Her paint and charcoal covered jeans were torn at the knees and being held up by a black leather belt with a huge red topaz belt buckle. Her red track jacket was zipped up to almost her chin, only showing some of her neck and the red cord choker she wore.

She smiled, waving as she made her way to her own Chevelle and threw her bags in the front seat with her other supplies and books. After fighting the art bag to stay in the car, she started to strip off her track jacket.

Sphinx stared, shocked as she shrugged out of the red material and bared a white tank top to the world. The tank top itself wasn't as shocking as the fact that she didn't seem fazed by the public de-clothing and what it was partially covering. Over her left should and disappearing under the shirt down her side was a huge sienna toned tattoo of something, what he couldn't quite tell.

As she pulled out a black tee-shirt to put over the tank, he noticed the shiny white scars over her upper left arm. He was going to have to find out what happened there.

When she turned back to face him, he almost laughed out loud. She always found the oddest and most random tee shirts and jackets to wear. She was wearing a "U.S. Antarctic Outpost 31 American Research Station" tee shirt from one of her favorite movies (or so he'd discovered as she gushed over it while they talked and she'd watched) The Thing.

He shook his head as she ran around the front of the car, almost tripping on her shoe laces, and jumped in the passenger seat. She looked at him expectantly until, begrudgingly, he put on his seat belt, grumbling as he buckled the damn death harness.

She nodded, before she started spouting out directions to the restaurant she was taking him to. Fifteen minutes later, they were pulling into the Arts District. Chaos pointed to the place and he had to do a double take. There had to be a mistake. He looked at her out of the corner of his eye. Was she serious?

The place, with a neon sign dubbing it The Penguin*, was a hole-in-the-wall dive if he ever saw one. And it was packed. She wanted to eat here? She tensed, seeing his reaction.

"Is this okay? I mean, it might not look like much, but they have the best food in all of Long Beach. We can go somewhere else if you want. . . "

He shrugged, killing the engine and getting out, leaving her to follow suit. As they walked in, he realized that the entire crew would feel comfortable here if not damn right at home. The walls were lined with classic car and beer memorabilia while a jukebox played Johnny Cash in the corner. The waiters and cooks were all covered in tattoos and piercings, but still seemed to appear friendly and open instead of menacing.

The clientele surprised him the most, though. People in suits and scrubs sat elbow to elbow with students and the walking tattoo boards, all laughing and fine with the fact that so many different groups were together. He nodded once, surprised and pleased with her choice. The music was so loud that conversation was impossible, therefore not expected.

She led him to a corner booth, waving at someone behind the bar who came to take their drink orders.

"I'm done with class for the day, so do you mind if I drink? I mean, I know you can't since you have to go back to work . . ."

"I'm off the rest of the day, luv. Do whatever."

He shrugged, pointing to the Miller High Life on the beer list the waiter was showing him. He was going to have one, she might as well too.

When the waiter came back, however, he was surprised again. She was drinking Guinness. She laughed at his look before tapping her bottle neck to his and taking a long draught from her beer. She then showed him what she was going to get on the menu and what was good.

When the waiter came back, she pointed out both of their orders, asking for two more beers as they killed the first ones. He raised a brow.

"Don't worry, since you're off we can be here long to make this little bit okay. Besides, my apartment is like two blocks from here so we can walk if you want to."

He shrugged again, draining his beer and taking the new one. Chaosia was proving to be full of surprises. When their food came, he had to marvel at what she'd gotten him; a huge burger with three patties and enough fries to feed an army. He looked at her plate, perplexed. She had two hotdogs smothered in chili and onions, normal enough. But what on earth were those green things beside the hotdogs?

"They're fried pickles. My first roommate was from Georgia and she loved them. Eventually, I tried them and dipped in ranch, they're actually pretty good. We came here once a week to eat this before she graduated last semester. Want to try one?"

He gave her a look that clearly said everything he refused to, causing her to laugh as she ate her weird treat.

Over lunch, he listened as she talked about class and her portfolio as Muse and The Sex Pistols replaced Johnny on the juke. He would nod when he thought he should but otherwise, he didn't have to talk. All in all, even with the loud music and rowdy crowd that had filled in at about 12:30, it was probably the most relaxing thing he had done all week, including driving the boosted McLaren. When it was time to leave, he dropped the cash for the bill, surprised at how inexpensive the outing had turned out to be. When they were outside, however, Chaosia made a fuss over him paying for lunch, leaving him slightly perturbed and more than slightly perplexed.

Finally, he had to ask "What was that about, then?"

She rolled her eyes as they walked to the car, muttering about men being oblivious at any age.

"I asked you to lunch, Sphinx. Meaning it was supposed to be my treat. I don't want you to pay for anything unless it's your idea to do it, and even then I want the option of going Dutch. It makes me feel like a shallow little airhead when a guy is always paying for everything, and you've paid for most of our coffee and suffered the loss of your poor coat."

He stopped at the front of the Malibu, not believing what he'd heard. Surely she wasn't upset because he'd paid for their lunch. It had to be something else . . . Hell, even Sway liked for Memphis to pay for everything; she'd voiced that particular detail to Kip during one of their relationship crisis.

"It makes a girl feel special that a guy wants to take care of them, even in the little ways," is exactly how she'd put it when she'd been lecturing all of them (but mainly Memphis and Kip).

"Are you serious?"

She looked at him, brow raised. Then she took on this look of extreme enlightenment that blossomed into a cross between respect and something else. She came to stand beside him, looking up at him as she put her hands in her pockets.

"You're used to someone wanting to have a free ride, aren't you? Well, I don't. I think relationships of any kind, friendship or romantic, should be as equal give and take as they can be. Does that bother you?"

He looked at her, the turned and looked over his shoulder at the car. He would never admit it aloud, but she'd just managed the impossible. She'd made him uncomfortable.

Finally, she just smiled and shook her head. "I don't do anything normal, Sphinx. I'm weird and opinionated and difficult. But I also want to be fair, to me and to you. And that means speaking up when I don't feel comfortable. I would say I want you to do the same, but I have a feeling that actions speak louder than words for you, right?"

She stopped, looking down at her feet, the shrugged and flipped her hair her shoulder and smirked.

"Let's try this, if we go somewhere you want to go, I'll pay for it. And if we go somewhere I want to go, you can get it. That way it's at least semi-equal and we're both equally to blame, regardless of if it goes well or awry. Deal?"

He nodded, looking skyward as she smiled and, in her new found good mood, totally missed the fact that she was standing next to a parking block and tripped when she went to walk. He barely caught her before she toppled.

She laughed nervously, blushing profusely as she straightened herself.

"Okay. To my apartment before I kill myself in the parking lot or die of embarrassment. And don't you dare laugh, Buster."

When they got her campus apartment, Sphinx had to admit she was right. She didn't do anything normal or even remotely close to it. But he was still amazed at the level of organization Chaos had put into her packing. Each room was packed into about ten boxes of varying sizes and grouped together and labeled to insure they would be easier to move, load and unpack. She even had a damn list for each room of what was supposed to be there and what could be moved if there wasn't enough room.

And under that list was a series of three sketches. The first a floor plan showing furniture arrangement and storage options while the second and third showed where pictures, mirrors and accessories would be placed and what went where in what part of the room**.

He shook his head, putting her lists and sketches down. The only things still up were some of her ink paintings and the massive monster bed in the bedroom. He was deliberately avoiding that one. As he looked at the inked pictures, he had to admit, Chaosia was good.

He was looking a dripping seascape when she came back out of her bedroom, having changed into clean jeans and replaced her converses with flip-flops.

She smirked, asking, "So, what do you think? Do I have enough boxes to last 'till Doomsday or what? "

He gave a deadpan look before he noticed the big black tomcat that was winding its way around his legs, purring loudly. He scooped the heavy tom up, scratching under its chin as it meowed and purred.

"You like cats? Well, with a name like Sphinx, I guess you would kind of have to . . . "

He glared at her and the unhidden mirth in her voice as she crossed the room and liberated her cat from him, the tom practically boneless the second she touched it. He whined as she sat him down, then stretched up her leg to be held again. Sphinx had never seen a cat do that. Dogs yes, but never a cat.

"Oh, I swear, Cat. You're a cat not a puppy. I should have never let Mikhail keep you with that damned malamute of his. You're ruined for good now."

Sphinx stopped, turning to look at her. "Mikhail? Who is Mikhail, then?"

Chaosia, moving around the cat to go feed him, answered over her shoulder. "My brother, well half-brother. But I really don't see why he insists on making the distinction. But he's always been a little weird anyway, so . . . Why?"

Sphinx looked at her, suddenly knowing why Sway had looked so smug while everyone else had been in the dark. Of course the only female of their rag-tag crew would piece the whole debacle together days before the rest of them, and keep it to herself for a laugh. He was going to wring her neck when he saw her.

"Sphinx, are you okay? You look about ready to kill something."

He turned and looked at her, and suddenly the resemblance between the siblings jumped out at him. The same nose and hair color, though his was straight while Chaos's had a life of its own. The same pale skin and almost identical body language when they were relaxed. Apart, without prior knowledge, they could pass as perfect strangers . . . but when you knew to look, the similarities were mind boggling. How in the hell hadn't he noticed?

"Your brother works with Otto Halliwell, right? Tall chap with dark hair and a love of Corvettes?"

She nodded, eyeing him like he'd grown a second head. "Yeah . . . Why? Do you know him? Mikhail doesn't owe you money or anything does he?"

Sphinx snorted. Oh this was great. The first bloody woman to ever just let him have some peace without trying to force conversation and all the other emotional nonsense, and she just had to be related to a member of Kip's crew.

"Yeah, I know him. Otto and I go back. We may have a problem."

She stopped moving completely, giving him a look that would make Atley's blood freeze. God, she must practice that one, because there is no way a sweet little thing like her could manage such a black look on her own.

"What problem? You know my brother, big deal. If he has a problem with who I talk to, it's his own. I don't tell him not to date crack whore and airheads, like it would do any good anyway. So he can't tell me who I can and can't be friends with. Why do all men act like talking to another guy's sister is blasphemy? Is it against the Man Code of Ethics or something?"

He watched as she started to pace, ranting as she went. The cat, now seated on the kitchen counter, tracked her progress along with Sphinx. If she hadn't been so mad, he would have been tempted to use a rare word in his vocabulary: cute. She was so damned cute mad it was almost sickening. As it was, he was fighting the urge to goad her to see what she'd looked like pissed.

He was spending way too much time in Mirror Man's company.

"Steady, girlie. If it's not a problem for you, it's fine. Just breathe. It's not like your brother's going to try and kill me or anything for taking his sister to lunch."

She stopped, and it seemed like all of the anger and gusto just fled her system as she gave him a deadpan look.

"You're kidding, right? The last guy who took me to lunch got a broken nose and fractured collarbone for his trouble. All because he 'groped my ass' and Mikhail and one of his friends just happened to be there to witness it. Happened my ass, they were spying. Mikhail is going to freak, especially since you know each other. Wait, do you know Sway and Memphis, too?"

He nodded, sitting down on the sofa as she groaned and flopped down beside him, her head in his lap. He chuckled darkly. At least she wasn't pacing anymore.

"Oh, God! Just go ahead and kill me now. I swear if she opens her mouth, I'll hurt her. I'll have Paul scalp her when we go to the spa tomorrow I swear I will."

Sphinx raised a brow as she rolled to look at him, her cheeks almost purple they were so red. She laughed nervously, running a hand over her forehead as she explained.

"I kind of told Sway that we were talking and she started asking all of these questions . . . I should have known something was up but I was so tired from work and class, I didn't catch it. We're supposed to go to a spa with one of my friends tomorrow after I get out of class. God, this is going to be so weird! I know Khail wanted me to get to know his friends, but I doubt that this is what he had in mind."

Sphinx shook his head, laying a massive hand on her forehead, pushing her hair back out of her face. She sighed, moving to get up. As she sat up, she shifted to get off the couch . . . . And her flip flop slipped and sent her toppling right into his lap, knocking their heads together. As she lifted her head from where it had collided with his, she swore she saw stars. He had this look of annoyance and astonishment. He didn't need to say anything; she knew exactly what he was thinking.

"No, Mr. Sphinx. I cannot get up off my own couch without tripping and falling. So there! At least I didn't have coffee."

He looked skyward again as she chuckled and buried her face in her hands, never bothering to move from his lap. When she looked back up, her face doing a marvelous tomato impression, she shook her head and laid it on his chest.

"Lord, just give me one day where my feet don't try and kill me. I swear I'll never deliberately hit Coach in the head with another soccer ball until the beginning of next season."

Sphinx set her back, one hand on her shoulder giving a quick squeeze before he stood and she squeaked, gripping her arms around him as she tried not to fall, again. Her face, buried in his neck, had gone from red to white. He sighed, loud and heavy as she realized he wasn't dumping her in the floor. He had her and was waiting to put her down so they could go see the other apartment.

She blushed as she looked up at him, smiling weakly. "Sorry. Guess I'm going to have to get used to no warning, aren't I?"

With a roll of his eyes, he eased her to the ground, trying not to notice how she slid down him or how she was looking up at him. Before he let her go, she did the most brazen thing, shocking him out of his normal silence. She stood on her tip toes and kissed the corner of his lips, turning to go gather a charcoalless coat.

As she scuttled down the hall, he stood there stunned. When she came back, the look on his face screamed "What the bloody hell was that about?"

She shrugged, and noticed her shoulders had sagged a bit. Oh hell, how had he hurt her feelings? He'd have to do something to-wait, why would he do anything?

"I wanted to, you know, kind of say thank you for you sitting through your first Chaos rant session without wringing my neck or something. I don't know . . . just don't worry about it, okay? Let's forget it happened and just go look at my new place."

As she went to walk by him, he made a split second decision that, later that weekend when he was lying in bed, would baffle hell out of him. He caught her arm and spun her, carefully, to face him. As she looked up, perplexed, her caught her lips with his own. When she didn't respond at first, he was sure he'd scared her to death and almost pulled back. But when she melted into him and her arms went around his neck, he knew, for a moment anyway, that whatever would happen because of this kiss would definitely be worth it.

She whimpered as they parted for air, causing him to dip his head and kiss her again, though this time it was just a ghosting of his lips over hers.

He stepped back, smirking at her kiss swollen lips and overall puzzled appearance. If he ever wanted to shut her up, he'd definitely found the most enjoyable way. He smirked evilly, causing her to blush darker as she shrugged into her coat. He opened the door, holding it for her as she practically shot passed him. She was still speechless on the elevator and on the walk to the car.

Finally, as he cranked the engine to the Malibu, he turned to see if she was okay. She turned, noticing his look, and smiled. Not the small smirks or the grins he was getting used to, but an honest to God smile that would have taken a lesser man's breath away.

"So, uh . . . on to the new apartment, right?"

As he pulled into traffic, he noticed she was starting to recover, chatting more and more. Finally, as they pulled into his building's parking garage, he realized that he had covered her hand with his when he wasn't shifting, rubbing it as she talked. He groaned mentally as they got out and made it to the lift.

This is going to be his downfall, he just knew it. In a few months, he would be worse off than Memphis. Waiting on the girl hand and foot, begging her not to leave when she got in her moods. Apparently, his sour turn of thinking showed because Chaosia smacked his shoulder. Hard.

He turned and looked at her, amazed she had hit him and that it had actually kind of stung. She was giving him the weirdest look, too. When the doors opened, she walked out, calling over her shoulder.

"Earth to Sphinx! Are you in there? What's got you looking like you're getting ready to pull a three state killing spree, honey? Lamenting the loss of your macho manly stuff already?"

He glared as he followed her to her new door, then had to notice it wasn't brown or navy like all of the other doors on this floor. It was a bright coral with the numbers on a small oval bronze plaque under a bronze door knocker that was shaped like a piece of coral. She smirked at the look.

"Oh, come on. I'm buying this apartment, Sphinx. I wasn't going to just leave the door shit brown if I didn't have to. Besides, I paid the extra deposit to paint."

When she opened the door, he momentarily forgot what he was going to ask her. Though they would be living in the same damn building and had the same exact layout for their respective apartments, he was at a loss. This did not look like it belonged in their building. She had redone the walls in the living room a taupe gray, and had had the carpet pulled up in favor of the hardwood floors. The kitchen was painted a darker taupe with stark white cabinets and coral hardware. She had put a shell mosaic back splash over the coordinating granite counters. The laundry room off the side was open, allowing him to see the new washer and dryer as well as all of the baskets and storage shelves she'd already installed. He turned to look at her, brow raised. How had she afforded this on a student and sales clerk income? She shrugged.

"You've been busy with work and I have a certain brother who owed me about two hundred hours of hard labor in return for distracting a rather gross guy a few years ago. Come on, I'll show you what I had done to the bathrooms."

As she showed him her new home, he had to admit that she was pretty insightful and thrifty. She'd had new tile and dresser styled vanities put in both bathrooms, and had both painted a similar shade of neutral gray, though the master was darker than the guest bathroom. One of the bedrooms was painted the same dark taupe with the exception of one wall done in charcoal chalkboard paint with taupe designs swirled throughout. Her master bedroom was painted a light neutral gray and the other bedroom was only slightly darker.

Finally, after she'd shown him everything, she walked out on her patio and fire escape. She turned, pointing up the steps.

"Do you know who lives up there? Mikhail said that it was one of his friends, but that I probably wouldn't see much of him. I was actually warned that he liked his privacy. Khail said he was actually surprised when it was mentioned that this unit was for sale."

Sphinx smirked, holding out an arm for her to go up the escape. He followed her until she was standing in front of his patio doors. When he produced a key, she groused.

"We are so going to hear it from Mikhail for this. He is going to shit his heart after he has kittens."

She walked in, and was pleasantly surprised. His charcoal gray leather L shaped sectional sofa was nestled against the longest wall in his living room, the short side actually forming a kind of break from the main door. The huge black coffee table was littered with several piles of paperwork he'd brought home to finish. The TV and entertainment center were in the same place in his apartment as they were going to be in hers, though his big screen was considerably larger, causing her to chuckle and shake her head, muttering, "Boys and their toys".

She stopped long enough to peruse his movie collection, nodding when she saw something she liked or recognized. She then made her way down the hallway, stopping to see the black and charcoal bathroom before looking in the room that had been allocated to be an office and catch-all room.

The black armchair in the far corner had a grey flannel blanket thrown over the matching ottoman, though both were covered with more paperwork and files. His black desk was in the same state, though the small car parts being used as paperweights here and there made Chaos raise a brow at him.

"Is it a guy thing to try and use every part of a car in your house or just a boost thing?" He glared at her, causing her to giggle and shake her head at him before continuing down the hall to his bedroom.

She took one look at the California King bed, decked in black jersey sheets and a heavy grey comforter and started to giggle again. Before he could top her, she was laughing as she jumped on the bad, looking around the room with mirth dancing in her eyes.

He had painted the entire apartment a medium taupe color, similar to her own color palette, making the black and gray pop out, though she seriously doubted that had been done on purpose. He seemed to have as much interest in design and decorating as Mikhail did. His furniture was all well used but cared for, just like hers. It was the flat screen TV nestled on the dresser that had her giggling like a mad woman. He watched TV in bed. It just seemed so weird and normal, especially for him, but it was a cute fact to learn at the same time.

The bad sunk in beside her and she was literally flopped on her side, looking up at him as he looked down at her. She smiled, "I like your home, Mr. Sphinx. Very manly." He shook his head, kicking off his shoes and stretching out beside her, head propped on his arm as he gave a her a deadpan look. She nodded, starting to talk again only to end up squeaking as he pulled her to him with his free arm. She looked up at him, puzzled before he lowered his lips and kissed her forehead, then pressed his own against hers. She sighed, running her cheek along his.

"This is nice. Its peaceful and quiet, just like you." He raised his brow again, causing her to laugh and snuggle into his chest. "Okay, so you're not always peaceful, but you do seem to keep the peace around you . . . well, unless I'm around."

He shrugged, watching as she reached for the remote beside the bed. He raised a brow as she looked at him with this evil glint to her eye.

"My movies are in those boxes downstairs. I could always go get a few and we could watch TV for a while before we go back to get my car."

He leaned back against the pillows, hands locked behind his head. After a few minutes, he decided that a movie or two would be fine. It was only a little after 3, so they could relax a bit. Finally, he shrugged and she was gone, back down to her new apartment.

A few minutes later, she returned with an armload of movies, spreading them out for him to help pick. What amazed him was that none of them were girlie titles. They were mostly something that he had either seen or had wanted to see, though a few had him puzzled. Seems the sweet little thing had a penchant for foreign and independent films, as well as horror. Finally, after an intense one sided argument on the cinematic value of Prophecy (which he was not buying the least. Seriously, a movie about mutant bears had cinematic value? To her maybe . . .) they settled on The Thing, which caused him to roll his eyes. She couldn't believe he'd never seen it and he still couldn't believe that she loved horror movies so bloody much.

As the open titles rolled, she stacked the DVDs beside the TV then settled back in beside him on the bed, laying her head on his chest as they watched. About half way through the movie, he noticed she wasn't talking or commenting anymore and looked down. She was asleep, snuggled as close to him as she could be without laying on him. He sighed, looking upward. Now what was he supposed to do?

He was aware of the fact that his own eyes were drooping, when he pulled the comforter over them. Maybe a nap wouldn't be so bad. Hell, he couldn't remember the last time he'd actually taken one . . . Sphinx shook himself awake. He didn't need a bloody nap. He would let her sleep until the movie was done and then he would wake her up so they could go get her car. She could go home and sleep and he could get ready to go to work tomorrow. Then they would move her Saturday and he could just carry her home after that. As he watched Kurt Russell bake the imitator's walking spider alien head, he started to doze. Okay, so fifteen minutes wouldn't hurt . . .

Chaosia was vaguely aware of the fact that she wasn't in her own bed. This one was too hard and there weren't enough blankets for it to be hers. She opened her eyes, only to be greeted by a semi-dark room and the main menu for The Thing DVD playing on the TV.

She sighed, nuzzling back into the warm chest she'd been sleeping on . . . And her eyes shot open. She looked and there, sprawled out beside her and snoring soundly (and loudly) was Sphinx.

His arm was wrapped around her shoulders and she was spread out across his chest. She stopped, trying to remember what they had been doing before they conked out. She'd put on a movie and they were going to watch it. And then she didn't remember anything. She groaned and laid her head back down on his chest, listening to his heartbeat.

She was almost back to sleep when he rolled, almost squishing her in the process. When he settled on his side, she was crushed to his chest and held there by two large arms. Inside, she was cackling. Who would ever know that someone as fearsome and terrorizing as Sphinx was turning out to be (for other people anyway) would like to cuddle in his sleep?

Well, no one was going to learn about it from her that was for damned sure. Even though they were on the cusp of some weird semi-relationship, she wasn't dumb enough to believe that he wouldn't hold a grudge over her exposing what he was sure to see as a weakness. Especially since she was piecing together just which one of her brother's friends he was.

Mikhail would probably die if he knew that the man that had scared him shitless when he first started working with Memphis and Kip all those years ago was currently a centimeter away from spooning. She sighed and settled back in to go to sleep, idly wondering what time it was. It was dark outside so it was well after 7:00 pm . . .

Oh well, might as well sleep while I can.

NOTES:

* This is actually based off a restaurant like fifteen minutes from my university and I couldn't help but work it in when a friend mentioned it would be funny to see someone like Sphinx in that kind of setting. And yes, they do serve Fried Pickles and Ranch. Never had them but they are supposed to be good . . .

** This is how my interior design roommate moved her entire apartment when we moved into a larger apartment after our first freshman year. Unfortunately, she had me draw and organize everything so . . . yeah.

Thanks for the reviews and the tips. Hope you enjoyed Chapter Four. On to Chapter Five . . .