"Person A of your OTP is in charge of the gate that allows automatic access to the parking lot Person B always parks in. Sometimes the gate gets stuck which forces Person B to call Person A a lot to open the gate. What Person B doesn't know is that Person A is purposely keeping the gate from opening because Person A has become attracted to Person B's voice."
"Ma'am? Excuse me, ma'am…?"
Jupiter didn't hear the soft words. She was a little too busy jamming to "Uptown Funk" because the rest of the world might have forgotten this masterpiece of a song, but she sure as hell hadn't. Headphones snug around her ears, feet up on the desk, Jupiter was just getting to the best part—dragons retiring, man!—when an arm invaded her vision. A rather buff one.
She pushed the headphones down around her neck, "too hot, hot damn" now echoing across the tiny office. Jupiter looked up and found 180 pounds of pure chisel leaning through her window. The rest wasn't half bad either: scruffy blonde hair, blue eyes, more piercings than she had shoes and let me tell you, that was saying something. Sitting up, Jupiter even noticed some body modifications, the most prominent of which were his pointed ears. All of that was more than enough to grab her attention.
"Helloooo," she said. "And how can I help you?"
"Ma'am," he started again and Jupiter was so thrown by the word choice (to say nothing of the tone) that she laughed, rudely interrupting him.
"Okay one, I'm no 'ma'am.' My mother is 'ma'am' when I'm three feet deep in my mistakes and trying to dig myself out. 'Jupiter' is what you're looking for. And two, all purpose parking lot," she gestured to the expanse of blacktop in front of them, "but let me guess: you're heading to the gym, right? Not that you need it." Jupiter winked.
The guy looked pretty unimpressed. "No, I don't, because I'm a private body guard with a client list that is… rather significant."
Jupiter's eyes slid to the shady government building across the street. "Oh."
"And are you always this simple?" he shot back, hand raking through his hair.
"Nah." Jupiter grinned. "The rest of the time I'm getting my PhD in Cosmology."
"… oh," he echoed.
"Yeah."
This time she really did sit up, all proper like with her feet on the floor and everything. Jupiter shut her iPod down (bye bye police and the fire man) before leaning on the sliding glass, trying to get a look at the cool brand on the guy's neck.
"So we're both assholes who make awful assumptions," she said. "Sounds like we're made for each other. Still doesn't explain why you're gracing my booth with your magnificent presence."
Maybe she'd laid it on a little thick because the guy actually shuffled in place and damn, talk about breaking more stereotypes. Jupiter never would have thought someone lookin' like him would go beet red at a bit of flirting, yet here they were.
The guy now meekly pointed to his car. "Your gate is stuck," he said.
"Ah. Yeah, it does that sometimes."
One button press later and the guy was shuffling backwards now, freedom within his sight. Jupiter hated to see him go, but loved watching him leave—a cliché that had never felt more appropriate. The guy was halfway back to his car when he stopped, turning to stare at her curiously.
Bingo.
"Jupiter?" he asked.
"Yep. Just like the planet."
"I see..." He pointed to himself, somewhat hesitantly. "Caine. Just like the dog."
Jupiter blinked. "Or like the creeper who murdered his brother."
Maybe Caine hadn't expected that. Maybe no one had pointed it out to him so bluntly before. Either way, he beat a hasty retreat back to his car, practically gunning through the now open gate in what she could only assume was mortification. Jupiter watched him go, not bothering to try and hold in her laugh.
Jupiter re-started the music and gave the control panel a loving pat.
"Oh yeah, I can work with this."
The next day Mr. Buff Security Guard knocked on Jupiter's window again. This time she was ready.
She slid the plexiglass back. "Oh no. Is it stuck again? How terrible. Well as long as you're here why don't you having some oatmeal with me?" Jupiter waved the instant cup under his nose.
Caine's eyes narrowed. "You just happen to have a second meal with you?"
"I was feeling particularly hungry today."
"Which also just happens to be piping hot?"
"You seem like the punctual type." Jupiter shrugged innocently. "And I like it when you pop your 'p's."
"... please open the gate, Ms. Jupiter."
"That would be 'Jones' if you want to tack on the 'Ms.' but you really shouldn't. Surely we're on first name basis by now, right?" Still, Jupiter pressed three buttons this time—two to override her, well, override and one to actually open the gate. It swung up easily, taunting her.
"C'mon. Haven't you got a last name too?" She waggled her eyebrows.
Ah. There was that blush again. Fantastic.
"Wise," Caine murmured.
"The wise thing to do would be to accept my awesome oatmeal."
So he snatched the cup and tossed a spoonful into his mouth, all while retreating back to his car.
"It's awful," he announced, the smallest smile on his pierced lips.
Jupiter slapped her thigh. "That's what I like to hear!"
Caine Wise honked at Jupiter Jones from the safety of his car. She knew why he was honking. He knew that she knew. There was no one else in the lot this early to bitch about their shenanigans.
"Ms. Jones," he called.
"Jupiter!"
"Jupiter."
"Yes, dear?"
She nearly cackled when Caine slowly lowered his forehead onto the steering wheel. Jupiter could barely hear him now... not that she needed to. She knew what he was saying.
"Please open the gate."
"Sorry." She turned a page of her magazine. "There's now a small fee for passing through my lair."
Jupiter heard him snort. "You're a troll now?"
"Rawr."
"... and this fee is...?"
Jupiter gave up the pretense and threw the magazine aside. She leaned through the window with the biggest shit-eating grin of all time. "I think your phone number will do."
Caine's face looked back at her, entirely devoid of expression. So stony that for a second Jupiter thought she'd made a really horrible mistake, pushed too hard and too fast. Then it melted, just a little, and he said in a soft voice, "Six."
She shook off the fear. "Six?"
"Yeah," Caine revved his engine. "You said a small fee. You get one digit today."
The word 'today' turned over in Jupiter's mind and she nodded, still smiling.
"Fair," she said and slapped the button.
Days four through thirteen were numbers one, zero, eight, three, two, two, six, three, five.
Jupiter wrote them all on her forearm and was careful not to wash them off.
Caine pulled up to the parking lot's entrance, only pretending to be annoyed at the closed gate. He'd gotten good at perfecting that expression the last two weeks. Caine took a moment to check his hair and piercings in the rearview mirror before swerving in his seat to glare at the office.
He blinked. Jupiter wasn't there.
Caine only had the smallest second for something awful to plummet down through his stomach. Then his phone rang.
"... Hello?"
"New fee," a familiar voice announced and his passenger door opened, causing Caine to jump. He gapped as Jupiter slid in next to him, shutting off her own phone. She'd replaced her usual uniform with jeans and a loose black tank.
"Yo," she said, putting her feet up on the dash. "New fee, new part-time job," she threw a finger at the office. "New..." Jupiter hesitated, "... boyfriend?"
Caine didn't realize at first that she was referring to him. When he did he had to look away, a rush of heat curling up within him.
He coughed into a fist. "... Well, as your new... boyfriend... I can't advocate getting into strange men's cars."
"Oh, I think a big strong body guard can protect me," and Jupiter relaxed into the seat, something soft and relieved flitting across her face. "C'mon then. Gate's still closed—I can't open it now—and our first joy ride is not going to be twenty feet through a parking lot."
He had work. Responsibilities. He should get out of the car and go press that button himself.
Instead Caine turned around. He cranked up the music and let it blend with Jupiter's laugh beside him.
They hit the road together.
