Title: The Enigma: Poker Faces
Author: Dizzy
E-mail: BadMonkeyMoblie@aol.com
Website: http://diz.tinfoil-tiara.org
Rating: R right now
Summary: Ian resurfaces once again with a mission in mind for Gwen alone. It turns into so much more.
Author's Note: This is going to be a very LOONG fic. Many element comes into play. But I assure you it will be a very good fic. Scouts honor. Feedback NEEDED. Oh yeah:
A tobogan is a hat here in Florida. Being from the north *I* too thought it was a sled for a long time until I was corrected. It's a knit cap type thing. Or a snow cap as I called it for 12 years.
Gwen smiled weakly at Joshua, shrugging.
"Go Fish." She murmured. Joshua nodded and lifted one large hairy paw towards the deck of cards that sat between them. He looked at the card and then to the cards he held in his hand, a triumphant grin breaking across his face. "Pair," he laid out a pair of Queens. Gwen smiled.
"Got any two's?" Joshua studied his cards and then shook his head.
"Go Fish." Gwen took a card from the deck. After her brush with death a few days ago she had come to the conclusion that it was time to slow down. Lay low, play a few hands of Fish with Josh. Her body was still weak, and at times she would feel a fierce throbbing pain in her spine, not to mention the exhaustion. It seemed even the simplest of activities exhausted her. But she was improving. Alec and Max had saved her life, and given her enough of what she needed to last for a long time. She smiled in memory. They truly cared about her, enough to risk thier lives in order to save her. Her smiled faltered when she thought of her other "savior" Ian Glenmoore. That bastard. She grimaced at the memory. She owed him now, he truly had saved her life. That hurt more then the pain in her spine. The fact that she owed her life to him.
"Gwen?" Joshua looked at her puzzled. "You okay littler buddy?" Gwen smiled at him and nodded.
"I'm fine, I just didn't hear you," Joshua nodded.
"You have any 4's?" he held up four of his fingers for emphasis. As if to say "Four is this many." Gwen nodded and handed him a 4 of hearts. Joshua smiled triumphantly again, placing 2 fours on the growing pile of pairs in front of him.
"Joshua is good at this game," he announced proudly and Gwen grinned, nodding.
"Yes, you are," she looked at her cards. "Got any sevens?" Joshua's look of disappointment told her he did and he solemnly handed the card over. A girl could get used to quiet Saturday afternoon's playing cards with a dog-like transgenic.
Ian Glenmoore looked down at the small piece of napkin in his hand. Scrawled in tiny black print was her address, given to him by Alec just before he left. If it was kindness, pity, or trust Ian didn't know. The point was he had it and he had use for it. A small use but a use nonetheless. He looked up at the tall brick building, stuffing the napkin corner into his pocket. Gwen was probably still weak, probably still recovering, but it wasn't going to take much energy, truth be told he probably could have hired someone to do it, but he wanted Gwen. She was strong and fast, and smart, and even though it was a personal mission he didn't trust anyone else to do it.
Her building didn't have elevators so he took the stairs, one at a time, breathing in deep to prep himself. She wasn't going to be happy to see him. In fact he was pretty sure she hated him. He took one final breath and raised his hand. It swung open before he could knock and the girl in question practically knocked him down. His arms snapped forward to catch her, grabbing her by the shoulders. Startled she pushed him back into the wall, her stance defensive.
"Hey, chill out a second," he said before she could sock him in the nose. He flashed her his most charming grin. "I'm not going to hurt you." Gwen answered him with a glare, hoisting her bag up.
"What do you want? I was just getting ready to take off," Gwen looked to the stairs and Ian shoved his hands into his pockets.
"Where too?" Her glare, if it was possible, got icier.
"If I wanted you to know I would have told you." She went to go by him, but his grip on her shoulder stopped her.
"Gwen, I wanted to talk to you," she was about to reply but the look in his eyes stopped her. He needed something.
"About?" Ian motioned into the apartment, the door still wide open.
"Can we just sit down for a second?" The girl let out a sigh, as if it was a supreme inconvience for her and then nodded, taking a step backwards.
"Make yourself at home," she pointed to the tattered white couch.
"I have a favor to ask," Ian looked at her. "A large favor."
His fingers ran down her face like rain, stopping for a moment to contemplate her lips, to caress her cheeks. Max smiled. The fingers tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, tickling the lobe before drawing themselfs back up her jaw bone. A single digit landed on her nose, and she did something completely unMaxlike. She giggled. The strains of piano and violin wafted around her and she knew she was dreaming. Life didn't come with a soundtrack. And the man of her dreams didn't enjoy sitting on a pinic blanket in the middle of a field, tracing the paths of her face with his fingers. But just for a moment she'd let herself dream. Just for a moment she'd give in. She opened her eyes and smiled at him. Brown met hazel and Alec smiled back. He leaned forward. His lips brushing her temple.
"I love you." Max nodded, leaning into him.
"I love you too."
Gwen stared at him for a moment. And then laughed. She laughed again, harder this time, until she could hardly control the giggles. The English man glared at her, leaning back into the sofa, crossing his arms over his chest. He failed to see anything amusing about his request.
"You..." she tried to catch her breath. "Actually think I'd do that for you." She hiccuped now.
"I had hoped," Ian stood, angry. "I can see now that I was mistaken."
"What's in it for me?" She was still amused, he could see it dancing in her eyes.
"I said you would be properly compensated."
"We all know how unreliable you are on that account," Gwen looked up at him, biting her lip to keep back the peales of laughter that threatened to bubble over.
"I wasn't 'unreliable'," Ian snapped. "I gave you exactly what I promised. The fact that you left the rest of the winnings was of no concern to me."
"And the fact that you've lost some hot rod sports car and want it back is of no concern to me," Gwen stood, anger replacing the amusement that had lurked in the depths of those startling green eyes of hers. She was prettier angry then amused.
"I'll get the car back with or without you."
"Then why did you even bother?" "Because I would have preferred with you! If I didn't have you on my side I'd have to do it alone and we both know I'm nowhere near skilled enough to be able to do it without losing a bloody limp."
"Why can't you just hire someone to do it for you?" She glared at him. "You're rich enough."
"I was trying to hire someone to do it for me." He glared right back. "You."
"How much?"
"Five thousand."
"Ten."
"Seven."
"Ten."
"Fine," Ian glared at her. "Ten." Gwen grinned.
"I would have settled for 8 but since you offered ten..."
"Just be ready. Tonight. At 9 o'clock." Gwen nodded.
"At Crash." Ian furrowed his brows in confusion.
"Crash?"
"It's a club. Or a bar whatever you want to call it." Gwen grabbed a piece of paper. "Pen." Ian reached into the pocket of his dress shirt and handed her a rather expensive gold one. She hastily scribbled directions from Alec's apartment to Crash and then handed it to him, slipping the pen into her bag.
"Nine it is."
Max tapped her nail against the wood of the table. It went in time with the thumps in her head, that in turn went with the booming of the speakers to her left. She grimaced and took a sip of her beer. The only freaking table left in the place and it was right next to the speakers. Wonderful. Across from her Cindy, who didn't seem to notice or even mind the speakers, was talking animatedly about something, waving her hands and making a bunch of facial expressions. Unfortunately due to said speakers there were no words to go along with them so Max just nodded and smiled at moments she felt would be appropriate. Truth was she had picked this table on purpose. She was certain she could have bullied some other people out of a better one but the speaker table had the best view of the door. And she was keeping one eye glued to it. And she knew the reason why.
Alec had mentioned in passing to Sketchy that he might play him in a game of pool. And Max had somehow managed to over hear their conversation. Not a hard task for a girl who has her ear pressed to the little slots on her locker. Yet he hadn't shown up yet. Sketchy was here, sitting across from her beside Cindy his mouth moving once in awhile as well. She simply nodded and smiled to him as well. It was ridiculous really. She couldn't stand Alec. She hated his guts in fact. Or she was supposed to. But lately the dreams she had been having, the way her eyes picked him out of crowds first and foremost, the way her stomach clenched in anticipation all pointed to very unhate type emotions.
Gwen was there too, doing the smart thing and hanging out away from the speakers with the same group of young men she danced with practically everytime she came. She got free beer, they got free dances from an ex-stripper, everyone was happy. Tonight though Gwen hadn't danced, she'd sat at a table next to an extremely hunky Latino guy sipping her drink thoughtfully trying to look as engrossed with thier conversation as Max was with Cindy and Sketchy's. It was a night of distraction it seemed.
Her breath caught in her throat when she felt the muscles in her stomach clench. He was here. Her eyes darted to the door and sure enough there he was. She swallowed, making sure to nod and smile at Cindy and Sketchy before she let her eyes focus on him. His eyes locked with hers and for a moment they were caught in the electric field of sexual tension that had been present from the beginning. He gave a little wave and Max motioned for him to come over. Truce sent out into the void. He took a step towards them, then another. His expression unsure for a moment before he finally pulled himself together. Truce accepted.
"It's been real guys but I have...an appointment," she shouldered her bag. The chorus of disappointed groans followed her to the door and she just gave them a grin back, turning around to walk backwards.
"I'll see you tomorrow I swear." She made a crisscross motion across her chest. "Cross my heart." She flashed them another smile and whirled, colliding dead on with what she assumed was the wall, or one of the steel supports that held up the roof. Embarassment flared in her brain as she realize she had both run into a wall and was falling backwards to the floor where she would no doubt bust her ass. Strong arms caught her, keeping her from falling on said ass. She realized it wasn't a wall, or one of the steel beams, but in fact a chest. Namely a chest belonging to one Ian Glenmoore who was grinning down at her, amusement twinkling in his eyes. She glared at him, righting herself and shrugging off the support of his arms.
"You're late," she pointed out.
"Only like 10 minutes love," he looked at his watch. "Or perhaps you were too engrossed in your little fan club there to notice I arrived at least half an hour ago?" Gwen ignored him, pushing past him towards the door.
"Can we go? I'd like to be in bed at a reasonable hour tonight and if I let your English ass prattle on we'll never even GET there." Ian glared at her.
"And what exactly is your problem with the English."
"I don't have a problem with "the English" I have a problem with YOUR English ass." Gwen saw his black sports car parked at the curb. Ian started toward it and let out a sigh. He wasn't sure if this was such a grand idea after all.
"You remember how we agreed to forget about...that night?" Alec ran a hand through his hair, his eyes darting about the alley as if he expected something to jump out at them any second. Max swallowed and nodded.
"Yeah." He had dragged her out here the minute he had reached the table stating that he needed to talk to her.
"Well...I can't," Max felt a little flare of hope in her chest at his admission. She tried her damndest to keep that reaction out of her eyes.
"Oh." Instead she focused on the brick behind him.
"I know I should..." Alec said running a hand through his hair again. It was a nervous habit he had seemed to acquire. "Believe me I want to." Max almost let herself pout about that one but she held her passive expression in place. "But I haven't been able to." Max bit her lip.
"Oh." He sighed.
"Could you maybe say something. Kick my ass? Tell me I'm a pervert...something?" Max did the only thing she wanted to do. She kissed him.
The problem with Ian Glenmoore was he was too damn cocky. This, Gwen assumed, stemmed from the fact that he had more freaking money then he knew what to do with. So he gambled and spent his money on fast little cars like the one they were speeding down the highway in, in hopes that perhaps he could get rid of a little bit of his "problem". His English accent and the fact that was not unattractive (that was all the leeway Gwen would grant him in that department) made it fairly easy to get women and his money did the rest. He was a spoiled brat in otherwords. Gwen detested spoiled brats. Here she was working for a complete asshole in the hopes that he'd toss a few thousand dollars her way so she could try and come up with enough money to get the hell out of Alec's place and not burden him anymore. Meanwhile here he was driving this fancy batmoblie type car towards a warehouse that had another one just like it. One he was paying her that few thousand dollars to get back for him. Ian, like most spoiled brats, didn't like anyone taking his stuff, no matter if he could just go out and buy another one just like it.
"It should be fairly easy to get back," he was saying. "Just a matter of waiting for the right opportunity."
"And when will we get this opportunity?"
"Everynight the guard takes a little "break" to pop over to the loo and um...relieve himself. I figure we'll nab it then."
"And how do you know that?" "I have sources."
"And why couldn't these sources take care of getting the car back?"
"Because these sources are about 50 years old with bad backs and bowlegs, not exactly a genetically enhanced fighting machine," Ian sent her a look. "That sum it up enough for ya?" Gwen sighed.
"And you couldn't get it yourself because..."
"I don't thrive on getting myself killed. You however...." he trailed off and she glared at him in response to the unspoken words.
"It'll be real quick love I promise," he grinned at her. "Painless. All you have to do is drive the car back." Gwen rolled her eyes.
"Is anything ever painless with you?"
The large warehouse, which seemed to be a familiar and common setting for all things criminal, was for once brightly lit but seemingly deserted. It was not very large, and there was virtually no security whatsoever with the exception of one lone guard and his gun. He sat poised in front of a large oak desk, booted feet propped on the top, a television displaying reruns of I Love Lucy in front of him. Not exactly Fort Knox. Gwen rolled her eyes. What kind of a wuss couldn't deal with one security guard? Whether he needed her to drive the car was of no consequence, any idiot could drive. Ian motioned her forward, to a stack of crates far away from said lone guard and one floor up on the catwalk. He crouched down behind them, sitting indian style on the metal floor. Gwen rolled her eyes again and sat down beside him on one of the crates. This was getting ridiculous, the lengths one would go for a bit of coin.
"Now we wait," he leaned against the crates, stretching.
"How long?" Ian shrugged.
"Can't be that long," Gwen sighed. She hated to wait. Hated it with a passion. That seemed to be her prime emotion lately, passionate hate. She glared at Ian in response to that thought. Gwen had no idea how she allowed herself to be pulled into these things. Why was she waiting in a dusty old warehouse with a guy she hated waiting for a sports car he already had one of.
"Ridiculous," she breathed, leaning back against crates, and it was. Ian gave her a lazy smile, stretching his arms up to fold behind his head.
"Just be patient love, good things come to those who wait," he gave her a wink and settled back to do just that.
Hours later, Gwen sent one more glare for posterity in Ian's general direction and flexed her fingers once more. Boredom was making her edgy, her limps were tingling with the need to do something. She leaned over, pushing him farther back against the crates so she could see the balding head of the security guard who had yet to take his restroom break.
"I thought you said it wouldn't be that long," she hissed. Ian leaned forward as well, shrugging.
"I didn't think it would." Gwen turned her head and raised her eyebrow.
"Obviously." It was his turn to glare at her.
"You didn't have to come."
"I realize that now. I really shouldn't have."
"Then why did you?"
"I wanted the money."
"There are easier ways to get money," he looked at her pointedly. "You know that." Gwen almost launched herself at him her anger was so great. It rose into her throat choking back any reply she could think of. She merely stared at him, mouth agape, silently fuming.
"You know that is so typical," she snapped after a moment's silence. "You agree to help a spoiled rich asshole get his precious sports car back and he spits in your face. That's fucking gratitude for ya, I mean what does a girl have to do to-" whatever she was going to say was cut off by his lips on hers. Startled her eyes went wide and she was too shocked to move. They moved against hers, tender but firm, lazily coaxing her to part her own. Completely against her will they did, and stars exploded in front of her wide eyes as he deepend the unexpected kiss. Again, completely against her will her eyes fell closed.
It took about four seconds for her to realize what was going on. Four seconds that seemed like hours of dazed pleasurable confusion. She was kissing Ian Glenmoore. Or rather being kissed by him. She felt her lips move against his. Now, she was kissing him back. Her eyes flew open again, and she braced her hand against his chest, but she couldn't quite bring herself to push him away. Instead her hands slid up to wrap around his neck, her fingers idly playing with the hairs there. It was like her body had a mind of it's own. There her brain was, yelling at her to stop, digging it's heels in and her body was telling it to go fuck itself. I LIKE kissing him her body seemed to say while her brain continued to rant about what a complete asshole he was. It was extremely odd to have your body and your brain at war with each other. Somewhere someone moaned, and it was another 2 seconds before she realized it was her. Her eyes had fallen closed once more and she was pushing him back against the crates. Taking that as his cue Ian deepened the kiss further, exploring her mouth completely, tasting her sweetness, his hands slipping under her shirt to rest on the warm skin of her stomach. He was the one moaning now, pulling her back against the wooden crates with him. Wooden crates that weren't full of anything. Wooden crates that fell off the catwalk, plunged the 20 feet to the ground and shattered into little splinters on the concrete below.
They froze, pulling apart, thier eyes locked and for a few moments they both forgot about where they were and what they had just done. Breath mixed with breath, and then someone, somewhere fired a gun.
TBC....(God it's taking me a long time to get these parts out. But you must forgive me. I'm in the process of: Fixing my car (my clutch went out and I can't afford a mechanic so me and my father have been fixing it all day for the past 3 days), building my room (all construction has stopped but I remain forever hopeful that it will get finished), and keeping my grades up (three A's and a C on my report card, gotta bring that C up). So forgive me! I'm starting the next part right after I check and post this one.)
Author: Dizzy
E-mail: BadMonkeyMoblie@aol.com
Website: http://diz.tinfoil-tiara.org
Rating: R right now
Summary: Ian resurfaces once again with a mission in mind for Gwen alone. It turns into so much more.
Author's Note: This is going to be a very LOONG fic. Many element comes into play. But I assure you it will be a very good fic. Scouts honor. Feedback NEEDED. Oh yeah:
A tobogan is a hat here in Florida. Being from the north *I* too thought it was a sled for a long time until I was corrected. It's a knit cap type thing. Or a snow cap as I called it for 12 years.
Gwen smiled weakly at Joshua, shrugging.
"Go Fish." She murmured. Joshua nodded and lifted one large hairy paw towards the deck of cards that sat between them. He looked at the card and then to the cards he held in his hand, a triumphant grin breaking across his face. "Pair," he laid out a pair of Queens. Gwen smiled.
"Got any two's?" Joshua studied his cards and then shook his head.
"Go Fish." Gwen took a card from the deck. After her brush with death a few days ago she had come to the conclusion that it was time to slow down. Lay low, play a few hands of Fish with Josh. Her body was still weak, and at times she would feel a fierce throbbing pain in her spine, not to mention the exhaustion. It seemed even the simplest of activities exhausted her. But she was improving. Alec and Max had saved her life, and given her enough of what she needed to last for a long time. She smiled in memory. They truly cared about her, enough to risk thier lives in order to save her. Her smiled faltered when she thought of her other "savior" Ian Glenmoore. That bastard. She grimaced at the memory. She owed him now, he truly had saved her life. That hurt more then the pain in her spine. The fact that she owed her life to him.
"Gwen?" Joshua looked at her puzzled. "You okay littler buddy?" Gwen smiled at him and nodded.
"I'm fine, I just didn't hear you," Joshua nodded.
"You have any 4's?" he held up four of his fingers for emphasis. As if to say "Four is this many." Gwen nodded and handed him a 4 of hearts. Joshua smiled triumphantly again, placing 2 fours on the growing pile of pairs in front of him.
"Joshua is good at this game," he announced proudly and Gwen grinned, nodding.
"Yes, you are," she looked at her cards. "Got any sevens?" Joshua's look of disappointment told her he did and he solemnly handed the card over. A girl could get used to quiet Saturday afternoon's playing cards with a dog-like transgenic.
Ian Glenmoore looked down at the small piece of napkin in his hand. Scrawled in tiny black print was her address, given to him by Alec just before he left. If it was kindness, pity, or trust Ian didn't know. The point was he had it and he had use for it. A small use but a use nonetheless. He looked up at the tall brick building, stuffing the napkin corner into his pocket. Gwen was probably still weak, probably still recovering, but it wasn't going to take much energy, truth be told he probably could have hired someone to do it, but he wanted Gwen. She was strong and fast, and smart, and even though it was a personal mission he didn't trust anyone else to do it.
Her building didn't have elevators so he took the stairs, one at a time, breathing in deep to prep himself. She wasn't going to be happy to see him. In fact he was pretty sure she hated him. He took one final breath and raised his hand. It swung open before he could knock and the girl in question practically knocked him down. His arms snapped forward to catch her, grabbing her by the shoulders. Startled she pushed him back into the wall, her stance defensive.
"Hey, chill out a second," he said before she could sock him in the nose. He flashed her his most charming grin. "I'm not going to hurt you." Gwen answered him with a glare, hoisting her bag up.
"What do you want? I was just getting ready to take off," Gwen looked to the stairs and Ian shoved his hands into his pockets.
"Where too?" Her glare, if it was possible, got icier.
"If I wanted you to know I would have told you." She went to go by him, but his grip on her shoulder stopped her.
"Gwen, I wanted to talk to you," she was about to reply but the look in his eyes stopped her. He needed something.
"About?" Ian motioned into the apartment, the door still wide open.
"Can we just sit down for a second?" The girl let out a sigh, as if it was a supreme inconvience for her and then nodded, taking a step backwards.
"Make yourself at home," she pointed to the tattered white couch.
"I have a favor to ask," Ian looked at her. "A large favor."
His fingers ran down her face like rain, stopping for a moment to contemplate her lips, to caress her cheeks. Max smiled. The fingers tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, tickling the lobe before drawing themselfs back up her jaw bone. A single digit landed on her nose, and she did something completely unMaxlike. She giggled. The strains of piano and violin wafted around her and she knew she was dreaming. Life didn't come with a soundtrack. And the man of her dreams didn't enjoy sitting on a pinic blanket in the middle of a field, tracing the paths of her face with his fingers. But just for a moment she'd let herself dream. Just for a moment she'd give in. She opened her eyes and smiled at him. Brown met hazel and Alec smiled back. He leaned forward. His lips brushing her temple.
"I love you." Max nodded, leaning into him.
"I love you too."
Gwen stared at him for a moment. And then laughed. She laughed again, harder this time, until she could hardly control the giggles. The English man glared at her, leaning back into the sofa, crossing his arms over his chest. He failed to see anything amusing about his request.
"You..." she tried to catch her breath. "Actually think I'd do that for you." She hiccuped now.
"I had hoped," Ian stood, angry. "I can see now that I was mistaken."
"What's in it for me?" She was still amused, he could see it dancing in her eyes.
"I said you would be properly compensated."
"We all know how unreliable you are on that account," Gwen looked up at him, biting her lip to keep back the peales of laughter that threatened to bubble over.
"I wasn't 'unreliable'," Ian snapped. "I gave you exactly what I promised. The fact that you left the rest of the winnings was of no concern to me."
"And the fact that you've lost some hot rod sports car and want it back is of no concern to me," Gwen stood, anger replacing the amusement that had lurked in the depths of those startling green eyes of hers. She was prettier angry then amused.
"I'll get the car back with or without you."
"Then why did you even bother?" "Because I would have preferred with you! If I didn't have you on my side I'd have to do it alone and we both know I'm nowhere near skilled enough to be able to do it without losing a bloody limp."
"Why can't you just hire someone to do it for you?" She glared at him. "You're rich enough."
"I was trying to hire someone to do it for me." He glared right back. "You."
"How much?"
"Five thousand."
"Ten."
"Seven."
"Ten."
"Fine," Ian glared at her. "Ten." Gwen grinned.
"I would have settled for 8 but since you offered ten..."
"Just be ready. Tonight. At 9 o'clock." Gwen nodded.
"At Crash." Ian furrowed his brows in confusion.
"Crash?"
"It's a club. Or a bar whatever you want to call it." Gwen grabbed a piece of paper. "Pen." Ian reached into the pocket of his dress shirt and handed her a rather expensive gold one. She hastily scribbled directions from Alec's apartment to Crash and then handed it to him, slipping the pen into her bag.
"Nine it is."
Max tapped her nail against the wood of the table. It went in time with the thumps in her head, that in turn went with the booming of the speakers to her left. She grimaced and took a sip of her beer. The only freaking table left in the place and it was right next to the speakers. Wonderful. Across from her Cindy, who didn't seem to notice or even mind the speakers, was talking animatedly about something, waving her hands and making a bunch of facial expressions. Unfortunately due to said speakers there were no words to go along with them so Max just nodded and smiled at moments she felt would be appropriate. Truth was she had picked this table on purpose. She was certain she could have bullied some other people out of a better one but the speaker table had the best view of the door. And she was keeping one eye glued to it. And she knew the reason why.
Alec had mentioned in passing to Sketchy that he might play him in a game of pool. And Max had somehow managed to over hear their conversation. Not a hard task for a girl who has her ear pressed to the little slots on her locker. Yet he hadn't shown up yet. Sketchy was here, sitting across from her beside Cindy his mouth moving once in awhile as well. She simply nodded and smiled to him as well. It was ridiculous really. She couldn't stand Alec. She hated his guts in fact. Or she was supposed to. But lately the dreams she had been having, the way her eyes picked him out of crowds first and foremost, the way her stomach clenched in anticipation all pointed to very unhate type emotions.
Gwen was there too, doing the smart thing and hanging out away from the speakers with the same group of young men she danced with practically everytime she came. She got free beer, they got free dances from an ex-stripper, everyone was happy. Tonight though Gwen hadn't danced, she'd sat at a table next to an extremely hunky Latino guy sipping her drink thoughtfully trying to look as engrossed with thier conversation as Max was with Cindy and Sketchy's. It was a night of distraction it seemed.
Her breath caught in her throat when she felt the muscles in her stomach clench. He was here. Her eyes darted to the door and sure enough there he was. She swallowed, making sure to nod and smile at Cindy and Sketchy before she let her eyes focus on him. His eyes locked with hers and for a moment they were caught in the electric field of sexual tension that had been present from the beginning. He gave a little wave and Max motioned for him to come over. Truce sent out into the void. He took a step towards them, then another. His expression unsure for a moment before he finally pulled himself together. Truce accepted.
"It's been real guys but I have...an appointment," she shouldered her bag. The chorus of disappointed groans followed her to the door and she just gave them a grin back, turning around to walk backwards.
"I'll see you tomorrow I swear." She made a crisscross motion across her chest. "Cross my heart." She flashed them another smile and whirled, colliding dead on with what she assumed was the wall, or one of the steel supports that held up the roof. Embarassment flared in her brain as she realize she had both run into a wall and was falling backwards to the floor where she would no doubt bust her ass. Strong arms caught her, keeping her from falling on said ass. She realized it wasn't a wall, or one of the steel beams, but in fact a chest. Namely a chest belonging to one Ian Glenmoore who was grinning down at her, amusement twinkling in his eyes. She glared at him, righting herself and shrugging off the support of his arms.
"You're late," she pointed out.
"Only like 10 minutes love," he looked at his watch. "Or perhaps you were too engrossed in your little fan club there to notice I arrived at least half an hour ago?" Gwen ignored him, pushing past him towards the door.
"Can we go? I'd like to be in bed at a reasonable hour tonight and if I let your English ass prattle on we'll never even GET there." Ian glared at her.
"And what exactly is your problem with the English."
"I don't have a problem with "the English" I have a problem with YOUR English ass." Gwen saw his black sports car parked at the curb. Ian started toward it and let out a sigh. He wasn't sure if this was such a grand idea after all.
"You remember how we agreed to forget about...that night?" Alec ran a hand through his hair, his eyes darting about the alley as if he expected something to jump out at them any second. Max swallowed and nodded.
"Yeah." He had dragged her out here the minute he had reached the table stating that he needed to talk to her.
"Well...I can't," Max felt a little flare of hope in her chest at his admission. She tried her damndest to keep that reaction out of her eyes.
"Oh." Instead she focused on the brick behind him.
"I know I should..." Alec said running a hand through his hair again. It was a nervous habit he had seemed to acquire. "Believe me I want to." Max almost let herself pout about that one but she held her passive expression in place. "But I haven't been able to." Max bit her lip.
"Oh." He sighed.
"Could you maybe say something. Kick my ass? Tell me I'm a pervert...something?" Max did the only thing she wanted to do. She kissed him.
The problem with Ian Glenmoore was he was too damn cocky. This, Gwen assumed, stemmed from the fact that he had more freaking money then he knew what to do with. So he gambled and spent his money on fast little cars like the one they were speeding down the highway in, in hopes that perhaps he could get rid of a little bit of his "problem". His English accent and the fact that was not unattractive (that was all the leeway Gwen would grant him in that department) made it fairly easy to get women and his money did the rest. He was a spoiled brat in otherwords. Gwen detested spoiled brats. Here she was working for a complete asshole in the hopes that he'd toss a few thousand dollars her way so she could try and come up with enough money to get the hell out of Alec's place and not burden him anymore. Meanwhile here he was driving this fancy batmoblie type car towards a warehouse that had another one just like it. One he was paying her that few thousand dollars to get back for him. Ian, like most spoiled brats, didn't like anyone taking his stuff, no matter if he could just go out and buy another one just like it.
"It should be fairly easy to get back," he was saying. "Just a matter of waiting for the right opportunity."
"And when will we get this opportunity?"
"Everynight the guard takes a little "break" to pop over to the loo and um...relieve himself. I figure we'll nab it then."
"And how do you know that?" "I have sources."
"And why couldn't these sources take care of getting the car back?"
"Because these sources are about 50 years old with bad backs and bowlegs, not exactly a genetically enhanced fighting machine," Ian sent her a look. "That sum it up enough for ya?" Gwen sighed.
"And you couldn't get it yourself because..."
"I don't thrive on getting myself killed. You however...." he trailed off and she glared at him in response to the unspoken words.
"It'll be real quick love I promise," he grinned at her. "Painless. All you have to do is drive the car back." Gwen rolled her eyes.
"Is anything ever painless with you?"
The large warehouse, which seemed to be a familiar and common setting for all things criminal, was for once brightly lit but seemingly deserted. It was not very large, and there was virtually no security whatsoever with the exception of one lone guard and his gun. He sat poised in front of a large oak desk, booted feet propped on the top, a television displaying reruns of I Love Lucy in front of him. Not exactly Fort Knox. Gwen rolled her eyes. What kind of a wuss couldn't deal with one security guard? Whether he needed her to drive the car was of no consequence, any idiot could drive. Ian motioned her forward, to a stack of crates far away from said lone guard and one floor up on the catwalk. He crouched down behind them, sitting indian style on the metal floor. Gwen rolled her eyes again and sat down beside him on one of the crates. This was getting ridiculous, the lengths one would go for a bit of coin.
"Now we wait," he leaned against the crates, stretching.
"How long?" Ian shrugged.
"Can't be that long," Gwen sighed. She hated to wait. Hated it with a passion. That seemed to be her prime emotion lately, passionate hate. She glared at Ian in response to that thought. Gwen had no idea how she allowed herself to be pulled into these things. Why was she waiting in a dusty old warehouse with a guy she hated waiting for a sports car he already had one of.
"Ridiculous," she breathed, leaning back against crates, and it was. Ian gave her a lazy smile, stretching his arms up to fold behind his head.
"Just be patient love, good things come to those who wait," he gave her a wink and settled back to do just that.
Hours later, Gwen sent one more glare for posterity in Ian's general direction and flexed her fingers once more. Boredom was making her edgy, her limps were tingling with the need to do something. She leaned over, pushing him farther back against the crates so she could see the balding head of the security guard who had yet to take his restroom break.
"I thought you said it wouldn't be that long," she hissed. Ian leaned forward as well, shrugging.
"I didn't think it would." Gwen turned her head and raised her eyebrow.
"Obviously." It was his turn to glare at her.
"You didn't have to come."
"I realize that now. I really shouldn't have."
"Then why did you?"
"I wanted the money."
"There are easier ways to get money," he looked at her pointedly. "You know that." Gwen almost launched herself at him her anger was so great. It rose into her throat choking back any reply she could think of. She merely stared at him, mouth agape, silently fuming.
"You know that is so typical," she snapped after a moment's silence. "You agree to help a spoiled rich asshole get his precious sports car back and he spits in your face. That's fucking gratitude for ya, I mean what does a girl have to do to-" whatever she was going to say was cut off by his lips on hers. Startled her eyes went wide and she was too shocked to move. They moved against hers, tender but firm, lazily coaxing her to part her own. Completely against her will they did, and stars exploded in front of her wide eyes as he deepend the unexpected kiss. Again, completely against her will her eyes fell closed.
It took about four seconds for her to realize what was going on. Four seconds that seemed like hours of dazed pleasurable confusion. She was kissing Ian Glenmoore. Or rather being kissed by him. She felt her lips move against his. Now, she was kissing him back. Her eyes flew open again, and she braced her hand against his chest, but she couldn't quite bring herself to push him away. Instead her hands slid up to wrap around his neck, her fingers idly playing with the hairs there. It was like her body had a mind of it's own. There her brain was, yelling at her to stop, digging it's heels in and her body was telling it to go fuck itself. I LIKE kissing him her body seemed to say while her brain continued to rant about what a complete asshole he was. It was extremely odd to have your body and your brain at war with each other. Somewhere someone moaned, and it was another 2 seconds before she realized it was her. Her eyes had fallen closed once more and she was pushing him back against the crates. Taking that as his cue Ian deepened the kiss further, exploring her mouth completely, tasting her sweetness, his hands slipping under her shirt to rest on the warm skin of her stomach. He was the one moaning now, pulling her back against the wooden crates with him. Wooden crates that weren't full of anything. Wooden crates that fell off the catwalk, plunged the 20 feet to the ground and shattered into little splinters on the concrete below.
They froze, pulling apart, thier eyes locked and for a few moments they both forgot about where they were and what they had just done. Breath mixed with breath, and then someone, somewhere fired a gun.
TBC....(God it's taking me a long time to get these parts out. But you must forgive me. I'm in the process of: Fixing my car (my clutch went out and I can't afford a mechanic so me and my father have been fixing it all day for the past 3 days), building my room (all construction has stopped but I remain forever hopeful that it will get finished), and keeping my grades up (three A's and a C on my report card, gotta bring that C up). So forgive me! I'm starting the next part right after I check and post this one.)