Hey, there, thanks for the reviews. And to answer why Linds is the central character with Sara... well I guess at the time I just thought it was a good challenge :P ,anyway.

Enjoy,

So ;)

Chapter 13

Sara's POV

"You seem tired lately," Catherine states after glancing at me before returning her attention to the road.

"Yeah…I don't sleep much," I shrug tiredly.

She snorts. "The joys of new intimacy, uh?" I frown, thinking that I detect a hint of disappointment in her voice, but tired as I am, I could be wrong.

"Well, I'm not one to kiss and tell," I smirk. "But if you must know, she's not the one keeping me up."

"Are you telling me that you're seeing someone else?" she looks at me with astonishment.

I chortle "Please, you know how much I suck at entertaining one relationship, so two is definitely too much for me."

She stays silent for a moment and at the stoplight she looks at me with concern. "You know, I'm here if you need to talk about anything," she reminds me.

"Thanks… there's not much to talk about, I'm just in a… bad phase of insomnia," I lie.

Actually, my insomnia has a name: Lindsey. She has decided to come around at my place at random time, knocking on my door for hours, no matter how many times I turn her down, she comes back. I'm decided to stand my ground, but that means sacrificing my already light sleep.

I want to talk to Catherine about that, I've even thought about inviting her to a breakfast at my place so as to catch Lindsey in action, but at the same time I've learnt not to underestimate Lindsey and I really don't want to put strain on my relationship with Catherine again.

And hell, she's a bloody teenager, I can't let her wind me up.

xxxxx

I've tried to ignore the constant knocking and focus on my book but I can't anymore. In the constant battle of will between Lindsey and me, I must say that she's tough. She can stay behind my door for two hours straight, knocking without a pause; of course she varies the frequencies of her knocking so as not to get bored I suppose but she can keep at it for a long time, a very long time.

It's been going on for about five weeks now. At first I'd open, but eventually I got used to the idea that it was always her, therefore I just started to keep going on with my life while she used the skin of her knuckles against the thick wood of my door. I don't even pretend I'm not here, she knows I'm inside which is why she knocks for hours on end. At first, I thought she'd get the hint and eventually stop coming back, but that was a wistful thinking obviously. I know she's aware that she's not welcome, just like I know that she won't stop until I give in.

I want to stand my ground but it is quite an irritating circus; I mean at first she'd come at random time, two maybe three times a week, sometimes she wouldn't come at all. If I had had breaks I could have taken this longer, but Robyn has been away some two weeks after we initiate the physical side of our relationship, some research project; had she been there my little battle of will with Lindsey would have turn short, or I would have find it in me to hold on longer since she'd have provided some time out from this twisted game.

I think Lindsey realized that I was determined to ignore her just as much as she was to make me break, so she changed strategy two weeks ago, she came every single day.

I don't really think that under those circumstances I can be blamed for losing it a little bit and I think that fantasising on the different ways to make her disappearance look like an accident is a sure indication that I have to face her once for all, see what she wants before getting rid of her for good.

I sigh heavily and stand up from my couch, I open the door harshly, then walk back inside again. I don't need to look, I know that she's taken aback by the fact that I'm actually inviting her in, but I also know that her surprise has quickly been replaced by smugness; after all, she won this round.

It takes almost a minute but eventually she walks inside and locks the door behind her.

"And so I make it through the door," she declares with a satisfied smile. "I must say you've exceeded my expectation, I was giving you two weeks, you held on for almost six," she chortles. She turns to me, her smile still firmly in place. "I have to know though, why did you open?"

"I can only get rid of a body behind a closed door, not through it," I reply flatly.

She just snorts with amusement. "Funny."

"Never said anything about joking," I move behind my kitchen counter. "Drink?"

"I'll have a beer," she answers before letting herself falling on the couch.

I take a bottle out of the fridge, put it in front of her on the coffee table then sit down in the armchair next to the couch.

"Sparkling water… figures," she sighs. She reaches for the bottle and takes a sip. "So, how have you been?"

"The only reason I let you in is to know your price," I cut the chase.

"My price?" she frowns. "I'm not sure to understand."

"Yes, you do. You've proven that you were like a parasite, resilient. We both know I don't want you here, yet you always come back, so what's your price?"

She loses her smile and the cold manipulative brat I've come to know surfaces. "There's no need to have such harsh words," she chastises me.

"I'm sorry, did I hurt your feeling?" I feign concern. "Oh right," I snap my fingers. "You'd have to feel something first for that to happen."

"Who would have thought you'd have so many jokes?" she smirks.

"The same person thinking you're innocent, I suppose."

She laughs a bit. "Nice one," she winks before drinking again. She becomes serious again and takes a deep breath. "Listen, I know we didn't start on the best basis…"

I snort. "Who's joking now?"

"Fair point," she concedes. "We've had the crappiest start, but I was thinking that we could put that behind us."

"Just tell me what you want so I can get rid of you."

"See, that's the thing, you can't get rid of me."

"Yeah? Wait until I get my gun from my locker."

"I wind you up good, didn't I?" she gives me a shit eating grin.

"Go on," I give her a tight smile.

"The reason why I'm here is because I was thinking that you and I could hang out together. Actually, I want you to allow me to come around for two hours every now and then."

I take a second to process her request and a whole minute to realise that she's serious. "Are you under influence right now?"

"No, Sara, I'm not under influence," she replies with exasperation.

"And I'm not either, so what can possibly make you think that'd I'd be okay with you invading my personal space on regular basis when all I want is for you to leave me in peace?"

"Oh come on," she whines. "Listen, you don't like me much, that's a given. Can you get over it for a second? I mean we could have a great relationship."

I can't help the boisterous laugh escaping my lips; that kid will never cease to amaze me. "No, better yet, hell no."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't want to have anything to do with you, I don't want to lie to your mother, I don't want to be a part of your scheme, I don't want to be responsible of you; take your pick. All I want is for you to forget me, even more I want you to stop coming around my place and knocking on my bloody door."

"I think we could get along, but you got to treat me like an adult."

"You're not an adult," I point out.

"You know, you're a fucking hypocrite for someone who doesn't care," she spits.

"Excuse me?" I look at her with surprise.

"I'm not mumbling," she says with irritation.

"Mind your language when you address to me, will you," my tone is as sharp as hers.

"I've been taking care of myself since I'm 8, and I think we've established that I'm good at it," she elaborates. "I don't need you to baby-sit me, much less take responsibilities regarding my person. As I said we can have an adult relationship, you mind your business, I mind mine and we meet in the middle."

"Let me think this through," I declare. "The trust is out of the window, and from the little I've seen from you, so is the benefit of the doubt where innocence is concerned," I count on my fingers then pout in appreciation. "Some relationship bases we have here."

"I didn't say anything about being friends," she points out.

"True, but you're asking for something besides outright antagonism, and that's out of the question."

"I'm just asking to come here for two hours, you won't know I'm here. You don't have to look after me, just treat me like any other adult… I'll play by your rule or whatever," she rolls her eyes.

"The answer is still no," I stand on my ground.

"Why?"

"I don't owe you any explanation, this is my space and I refuse to let you invade it. Why do you even want to come, anyway?"

"I like you."

"Yeah, right and I like you," I snort. "Try again."

"I think we could get along."

"Like a snowball and fire," I agree sarcastically. "Same player, shoot again."

She sighs heavily and looks away. "Bartholomew is moving in," I raise an eyebrow at her words not really getting the point. "If I come here for two hours, when I get back home there'd only be enough time for me to get diner and before going at my aunt's …" she adds. "He's the loser my mother is dating, I'd rather set my hair on fire than stay alone with him for exclusive time… damn, I'd rather hang out with you, that's to say something."

I study her for a moment and realise that she is actually honest. I almost feel bad for the kid, almost, then I remind myself that she can be very manipulative. "I'm impressed, I almost fell for it, you're good."

"Oh screw you," she stands up.

"No, screw you Lindsey," my cold tone surprises her. I think she had tagged me as someone caring who would actually fall for the 'I have a bad situation at home' speech. Truth to be told, I would have cared had it been anybody else; but it's her, she's not an innocent girl who need to be looked after, she's a manipulative and cold person not caring about the consequences of her action anymore than she cares about anyone else but herself.

I'm not stupid; I know she has a specific motivation for being here and harassing me like she does, just like I know that she thought she'd strike my emotional chord with her 'Bartholomew's moving in' card.

"You expect me to feel bad for you? Boohoo, cry me a freaking river," I chuckle. "Honestly, I couldn't care any less about your feelings even if I tried. You don't like your mom's boyfriend, what do I give a shit?" I ask her seriously. As bad as it is for me to say, even if this was her real motivation I wouldn't be any more incline to have her invade my personal space.

Her face is suddenly contorted with unabashed anger. "You want to play it the hard way, fine. Truth is, you know my little secret and I need to keep a leash on you, it's all about covering my six," she says vehemently. "The lesson here is that you should have minded your damn business that night at the party. You got involved, now you're stuck with me. You think that those few weeks of me knocking on your door are the best I can do?" she chortles bitterly. "Try me, please, I'm dying to have fun."

"Finally," I fake a smile. "Honesty," she glares at me.

My very first assessment of her was right, she's used to have everyone wrapped around her little finger, she has lost the habit of having people resisting her. I can't stand to be pushed around, and the simple fact that she managed to play me so far pisses me off. Her deceiving behaviour and my naivety is a bitter pill that will be forever stuck in my throat and fuel the tension between us. "I really didn't think you had it in you," I pout with admiration.

"Oh you feel smart don't you? You're pathetic," she shakes her head and moves to my window.

"Aren't you adorable when you whine and pout like a five year old," I mock her. "I'm pathetic? I'm not the one begging here, am I?"

"I'm not begging!"

"Label it as you want sweetheart, but it sounds like begging to me alright," I shrug.

She's about to lose her temper again but then she tightens her lips and balls her fist. As suddenly as her anger had risen it vanishes; I can't help the small satisfaction I feel to have winded her up a bit, that kid is begging to be taken down a notch or two.

Her usual coldness is back, against all odds there's a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. "Are you done enjoying your petty revenge?"

I hate to admit that part of what makes me uncomfortable about that kid is that she reminds of myself, she's a projection of the adolescent me – and the young adult mind you; I was like her once, minus the manipulation skills. If I have grown up and opened up to the world around me, I can relate to the policy of not letting anything or anyone reach you. I remember on our first encounter she said that she was only caring about herself, and I can relate to that as well.

I don't caution what she does, but I can hardly lecture her. Yes, I'm an adult, I've grown up the hard way making mistakes after mistakes, getting wasted and such. My household used to be a grounded environment, then it all went to hell and from that point on my life has been a long downward spiral; it was years before I actually started to look up and find my marks in life.

I could tell Lindsey that I might not understand but I can, in a way, appreciate what she's going through, I probably would if I knew that it would somehow reach her, but I know that it'd be nothing but a waste of breath and time. She clearly thinks herself above everything and doesn't value interaction with anybody unless she can profit it somehow.

However, I am an adult and she's Catherine's daughter; and she's right on a point, I should have minded my own business the night I picked her up at the party. Now, whether I like it or not I am involved. I can't control her, but I can look after her; if not out of interest at the very least out of respect and affection toward Catherine.

The mere thought of having to be around Lindsey regularly makes my inside burn. I didn't particularly like the adolescent I was, even the less the young adult I was; and having Lindsey around is basically accept to have those part of me shoved back in my throat. Damn, I don't like this kid, why couldn't she be an adolescent without any major problem except the adolescent struggle about self acceptance? It's true what they say, familiarity does breed contempt.

Another thing, Lindsey's presence would force me to face again is my addiction to recreational 'medication'. Yes I've been sober for a long time, but it's one of those things you can never really shake permanently because it gripped you so deeply that it became a part of you.

I don't like the situation one bit. Yet, objectively I don't have much room to act responsibly. I can't reach Catherine and bluntly explain the situation, she wouldn't believe me for one and Lindsey showed me that she had covered everything so she wouldn't get caught. I know for certain that Lindsey won't give up bothering me until she gets what she wants from me, and frankly I don't want to see the extent of her devilish mind when she wants to be convincing.

I don't know if I'll ever manage to reach Lindsey, or if our interaction will ever be on healthy grounds, but for two hours at a time I know she's won't be using and I'll be able to keep an eye on her. At the same time I can try to find a way to talk to Cath and make her subtly understand that maybe she wants to pay a little more attention to Lindsey. If that plan doesn't blow up in my face, I should be fine.

Some big 'if'…

Once again, I want to kick my ass, one tiny decision and now I'm paying the price with interests…

I go to my fridge and grab a bottle of water for myself. "We both know that it's in your interest to accept my request," I hear her state calmly.

"What's in it for me?" Just because my hands are tied doesn't mean I can't save the appearances. "Clearly, we're not friends, so our association will be the closest to a business transaction. You get to invade my space for two hours, but what's in it for me?" I elaborate.

"I'm ready to play by your rules, that should be enough," she snorts.

"Not merely."

"What do you want then?"

"You tell me, what can you offer?"

She looks away and gives a thought to my question. "A dollar the hour," she answers after a full minute.

I snort. "Like I need money."

"We play by your rules, and I pay you a dollar for every hour I spend here, consider it a tax for any food or drink I might take out of your supply. I'll pay at least until we find something else I could give in return," she proposes.

I don't respond and simply go back to the couch. "Don't bother coming here if you're wasted; you don't use or drink alcohol or put yourself under any kind of influence when you're in my apartment," I edict the first rule.

"Despite what you think, I'm not a junky."

"Sure," I reply flatly. "I'm not at your disposition, if you want to come you have the correction to call me first and I'll let you know if it's okay."

"Agree, but if you try to do me over, I'll come anyway and you can forget the call."

"You don't invite anybody over; when you're here you make yourself as invisible as possible," she doesn't say anything but I take her silence as an assent. "We're not friends, but our association of fortune will be based on respect and honesty; also it's my place so I reserve myself the right to kick you out when I want to."

"If it makes you happy…"

"I'll edit those rules as we go along; my place, my rules," I inform her. Knowing her, she's already looking for the cracks in those negotiations, so keeping the power to edit the rules in the future gives me some guarantee that I'll manage to avoid let things get out of control.

"Anything else, your highness?"

"Yes, I like the three strikes rule. You have two already, so the next time you're messing up, we're done," I give her a syrupy grin. She chuckles at my statement which only irritates me.

"Wrong, I only have one," she points out.

I chortle. "I think you have memory problems."

"I don't," she fakes a smile. "I accept the first one, I did do you in. Now the second time is on you," she starts. "I apologized to you that day, admittedly I wasn't exactly dripping with sincerity, but I apologized; then I warned you about making a fool of yourself, it was not an attempt to do you in as you had the chance to see for yourself. You got burnt, but it's your fault, not mine," she argues. "You just defined our soon to be association of fortune as honest and respectful, add 'fair' to the list. I won't agree to your rules unless you take the second strike back."

Boy, do I hate this kid…

I guess I'll have to endure her longer than I had expected. Since I had considered her reckless and careless behaviour, I gave her about two or three weeks before being able to validly get rid of her, that was without counting on her negotiation skills.

"Fine," I concede.

She parades a shit-eating smile when she advances toward me with her right hand extended. "We are now officially associates of fortune."

"I'm overcome with joy," I reply sarcastically as I shake her hand.

"I have no doubt about it," she winks before breaking the contact. "I'll see you around then," she announces as she grabs her backpack and starts walking to the door.

"Wait, let me give you my numbers…"

She laughs. "Oh Sara pumpkin, I already have them," her tone lets me know that she had already a plan be if I had stood my ground and ignore her longer.

I have just made a deal with the devil.

Brilliant…

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