And here we start to push into some of the higher warning. Now I've done stuff like this for HMWYBS but never, ever for anything in GISS. Even the one short chapter for coffee. And i can tell you that I am interested to see if maybe i can pull off something convincing before this monster runs its course. So here, boys and girls is your warning. This will go to the extent of our new rating.

To Tame Temptation

Sphinx's mouth moved over the girl's hurriedly but thoroughly, and he savored the throaty little moan she gave as he pushed her back into her bed. He looked down at her, grinning darkly before kneeling on the edge of the plush mattress and high covers, kissing his way up from her chest to her jaw. And on past to her lips again as her arms looped around his. She'd seen the bandage peaking from beneath the collar of his shirt at the bar and cooed at it, tracing it a bit too roughly for his tastes before she'd sworn not to hurt him. And so far she'd been living up to that promise.

He groaned, reaching down to pull her dress over her head before tossing it across the room and basking in the form laid out before him. The bosomy blonde was gorgeous and lithe, with just enough curve to the toned muscle to be mouthwatering. And her pretty blue eyes and plump lips were another definite bonus for her . . . But as she leaned up and slid her hands under his shirt to caress his abs and chest he had to wonder why-even though he was thoroughly enjoying this little tryst so far- he felt like he was wrong.

Her hands pulled his shirt off slowly, tossing it to join her dress before she kissed her way across his chest. But her lips didn't leave tiny trails of fire in their wake . . . and even as her hands dipped to his jeans, pulling them open to gain better access he still didn't feel the same rush of liquid heat he'd felt before. He groaned to himself, thankful the girl thought it was in pleasure as she giggled against him. And though it was a nice sound that sent pleasant thrills down his spine it wasn't the throaty little chuckles and soft laughs he wanted to hear.

He shook himself, pulling the girls face to his in a bruising kiss as she moaned against him. But her lips weren't as sweet as he wanted them to be. Or as plump and kissable. He leaned them back, pushing the girl flush across her sheets as his mouth left hers and worked down. He needed to get over this shit . . . and the best way to do it-he'd figured- was to drown himself in as much flesh as possible. Until he would be able to act like he normally did.

The girl's head lulled back into the pillows and he groaned as her lace clad hips bucked up into his. And with her next little breathy moan he cut his mind off, making himself to enjoy the more than willing partner stretched across the bed; obviously greedy for his attention. But even as things progressed, he couldn't keep the little flashes of lavender blonde and sea glass green from the forefront of his mind every time he glanced up at the girl's face. Or shake the feeling that he was committing some carnal sin against the girl-the one he actually wanted-for dallying with this one. But it wasn't going to stop him from this . . .

If he wanted to be able to give her what she claimed to want then it couldn't . . .

Ripley sighed, working through the massive stacks of paperwork at Otto's as she tried to make some headway. Honestly, why hadn't they just brought her the stuff instead of trying to help? San and Frankie had, under the watchful-in other words totalitarian- eye of Sway decided to try and keep the office as straight as they could while she'd been out with Sphinx and Atley. And while she could appreciate the sweet gesture- a definite oddity for both men- she was left with an even bigger mess to work through than she would have before. Because neither boost seemed to understand-or care about- the filing system and the color coded copies.

She picked up another work order, grimacing as she noticed it was covered in lithium grease. She groaned, going to wipe it off on the shop rag she'd brought out after finding the oil covered invoice the hour before . . . and growled when it wouldn't come off the paper. Or her hand. She rolled her eyes skyward, muttering to herself.

"God save me from the good intentions of retarded and illiterate but well meaning boosts . . ."

A knock on the door brought her eyes up and she was relieved to see Memphis standing just outside of it, pushing the half cracked door open as she smiled at him. He grinned back, crossing to sink into the chair in front of her desk. He ran his mirth filled and apologetic eyes over the mess before shaking his head.

"I told them to leave it alone. But they practically ran Junie and Otto out of here trying to be helpful. And drove Sway up the wall with all of the questions . . . How bad is it?"

Ripley huffed, tossing the greasy paper into the 'copy and destroy' box she'd been forced to make. A box that was now almost as full as her 'completed', 'ordered' and 'pending' boxes. Which was going to mean at least another two or three hours of work after she finished the other shit . . . God these guys were retarded . . .

"Bad enough that I'm going to be busy for a few days . . . How is Sway? I haven't seen her here today."

He shrugged, shifting in his seat. And Ripley knew something was up by the way he seemed to fidget before he looked back up to her. She stopped, leaning back into her chair before shaking her head and standing. She moved, closing the door and grabbing two cans of coke; handing him one before she settled on the desk top in front of him.

"What's up, Memphis?"

He sighed, running a hand through his hair before slumping into his chair and popping the top to the coke. And, after a few minutes of silence, he started talking.

"I have an issue. And usually I talk to Atley about it . . . or rant to Sphinx because I know he isn't going to say anything. But . . ."

She nodded, taking a drink of her own drink before shrugging.

"Well, I could listen . . . And I swear not to tell anyone but Paul. Who doesn't know any of you so there's no real danger, right?"

Memphis grinned, nodding before he sobered. He glanced back to the closed door before turning back to her. And she felt her world shift as he began telling her about the issue. The boss from up North-Cacuzza- had sent them word through Manday that if the crew could snatch up Eleanor . . . then all would be forgiven and he would go back to using them exclusively. Which-according to Atley and Donnie- meant at least three or four sheets a month that numbered well over twenty . . . on top of the other sheets and scores they competed for with Manday. The offer was the most security a boost could ever hope to receive in their line of work . . . and would keep all of them comfortable for the foreseeable future.

And . . . it was a test of skill and loyalty.

Christ . . . she had no clue what they could do but she would try and help him with it . . . As much as she could anyway. She shifted, looking at him before taking a deep breath as an idea hit her. It would be difficult and dangerous-not to mention annoying because of who would need to go with her to accomplish it- but if they kept their shit together and did what they were supposed to then they could get this order. She looked up to him.

"I think I might have an idea . . . but you're probably not going to like it . . ."

Sway laughed as Ripley grimaced, trying to pull her now deep red hair-littered with enough chocolate and caramel hints to seem totally natural- to the side over her eyes. Eyes that were being covered with very pretty hazel green contacts . . . which sat well against the dark tan her trips to the tanning bed for the past three days had caused. She turned, smoothing her wild glittering curls before shaking her head. And Sway had to admit that the girl was gorgeous as a redhead . . . but then again she was biased. The girl was shaping up to be one of her better friends . . . and she had always loved the color red. She just didn't think it looked good on her . . .

Ripley turned, crossing her bedroom and started digging through her closet. She'd thought the kid was insane to think that this would work-especially with how badly it had gone last time- but the girl was adamant that this was the only way. Donnie's in at the DMV had given them every GT 500 in the metropolitan area . . . and Ripley had scoured over the ten locations with Otto and Memphis before settling on the one they would hit tonight.

The cherry red 67 Shelby GT 500 Mustang was part of a car display for some big charity . . . and Frankie had been able to procure two tickets at the last minute. Sway huffed, flipping her dark curls over her shoulder. Too bad it was just Ripley and Frankie going . . . the gala actually sounded kind of fun. It was for some rare form of cancer awareness and was themed around the sixties and seventies. With all sorts of beautiful ladies on display out on the lawn while other pieces of memorabilia would be spread throughout the actual benefit. A groan from the closet brought her attention around and Sway had to fight giggling at the pure look of aggravation on Ripley's face as she stepped back out and into the room.

The slightly rouched deep purple cocktail dress seemed to accentuate and hug the girl's curves like a second skin, the smooth satin glinting in the light of the bedroom . . . and still managed to seem classy as the hem barely grazed her knees as she moved and sank onto the foot of the bed. The top had an asymmetrical neckline that looped over one shoulder before meeting the material in the back. She'd pulled on the silver ring sprouting the huge cluster of amethyst crystals on her right hand . . . as well as the smaller clusters hanging from her ears like she did it everyday . . . But what was killing Sway were the shoes. They were sky high with a slightly rounded heel and toe and glittered the same shades of purple the dress was reflecting as she moved . . . and Sway found herself hoping that the girl wouldn't loose these to the surf the way she had the others. Especially before she got to borrow them.

Sway watched Ripley flip her hair, shaking her head as she turned to look at her. She was obviously uncomfortable dressed like this . . . but it was a themed party. And this was probably one of the best ways for the girl to not attract unwanted attention. She smiled for her, reaching out and patting the girl's leg as they sat together.

"Are you sure its okay? Do you think it's too short?"

"You look good girl. Like a bonafide Bond Girl, honey . . . And no it isn't too short. Do you know what Frank's going as?"

Ripley shrugged, picking at the hem of the dress. And Sway could see just how uneasy she was about all of this. Poor kid could flirt her way out of wrap with cops and mingle with the Hollywood elite but she was almost a bucket of nerves over going out to a party with the Fish. And-even with Frank's new turnaround where the girl was concerned-she didn't blame her in the least bit. But as Ripley stood and grabbed the black clutch from the dresser, Sway watched her start to calm.

"He swore he would go as James Bond . . . but do you think he really will? If he doesn't, I have no clue. I mean, I was lucky enough to have my mom's pictures from Woodstock and when she was a teenager if I hadn't had the dress for this, you know?"

Sway stopped, looking at Ripley in shock as she stood beside the stairs. She shook herself, standing and crossing; following the girl downstairs so they could be on their way to the garage. But as Ripley locked the front door behind her Sway had to ask.

"Your mom was at Woodstock? Seriously?"

Ripley nodded, tossing Sway the keys to the Testarossa with a half-shrug.

"Yeah . . . She was younger but she went. And she always hated it when my Dad called her a hippy. But then again, they were really different in that respect . . . and always argued over stuff like that. He thought it was stupid and she always wanted it to happen again . . ."

Sway shook her head, sinking into the plush seats with a smile. So much suddenly made sense about the odd girl beside her . . . because her parents had obviously been as odd and quirky as she was.

Ripley sighed as she walked up the gravel walkway towards the event, her arm looped through Frank's as they made their way slowly and naturally. She had to admit the man was good at seeming totally and completely natural in most settings . . . but she kept having to banish the thought that she would've preferred pulling this particular scam with Sphinx. She shook herself, smiling up to Frank giddily as a couple walked by them and grinned at their outfits. And as he smiled back down at her, patting her hand she had to admit that they probably made a good looking couple.

Frankie had kept to his word and gone all out, temporarily dying his blonde hair dark and slicking it back and to the side in typical Bond style before donning a pair of dark brown contacts . . . and sliding into a black silk wool tux that was obviously tailored to fit him. He turned back to the doors as they ascended the steps; handing the doorman their tickets and ushering her in before him. He turned, looking around slowly before he spotted the dance floor and the bar.

With a nod in the direction of the alcohol, he led her across the room and away from the constantly moving crowd of people. And she had to say she was impressed with the fact that even though he was touching her, his hands stayed above her waist at all times. He stopped, ordering himself a drink before passing her a flute of champagne with a grin. He dipped, his lips brushing against her ear as he handed her the glass. And to anyone else it looked like they were young lovers whispering secrets . . . not two boosts discussing her alcohol tolerance.

"Can you handle a glass of this? If not then just sip at it so people don't get suspicious . . ."

She rolled her eyes but nodded, leaning up to smile at him and press her pink lips against his clean shaven cheek as the bar tender handed him his drink. Frank nodded, holding his arm out and let her move before he dipped to speak to her again. And she had to reach up and wipe her lipstick off of his cheek.

" I can handle it, Frankie. And people are going to be too plastered to be suspicious in a little bit. When do you want to move?"

"When they go to make the donation speeches after the meal . . . everyone will be inside and we can slip out right before. A few minutes apart would be best . . . "

She nodded, moving to sit at a small empty table with two chairs; grinning at him appreciatively as he pulled her chair out and slid it back for her. She raised a brow, turning to watch the other people dance as she spoke softly to him. And try not to flinch when he reached out and placed his hand over hers, leaning in a bit too close for her comfort. He chuckled, smoothing his thumb over her knuckles.

"Easy kid. We just got company to the side. And if we look overly involved with one another, they'll probably leave us be . . . Which saves us from being noticed and boring conversation . . ."

She willed herself to relax, turning to see he was right. An elderly couple had taken the seat across from them . . . and seemed to be chatting the other tables up. She sighed, leaning into Frank's shoulder as she turned her eyes back to the floor.

"Yeah well, don't get used to this. Our deal still stands. You touch me without permission again and I'm going to redecorate Otto's with your entrails."

He shifted, laughing as he dipped to talk to her.

"Hey, I get it. You're all about the big freak . . . And I'm trying to be good. I haven't messed with you since we made the deal have I?"

She stopped, thinking before nodding slowly. He nodded, reaching out and taking a long drink of his drink before continuing.

"So there isn't a need to remind me. I'm not stupid . . . And I really get tired of people treating me like I am. I mean fuck, my IQ is well over 200."

She stopped, turning back to look at him in shock before she remembered herself and smacked his shoulder lightly, shaking her head as he chuckled. She turned back, leaning in to hiss at him.

"You're a freaking genius but you act like an idiot most of the time. That's why people treat you like one. That and you're generally an ass."

He shrugged, resituating himself before scooting a bit closer.

"Yeah well I get bored. Its all part of this little attention deficit problem I've got. Actually, the only things that keep my attention are women and cars . . . and the first doesn't really do it for long."

She rolled her eyes. She knew that . . . he was too much of a playboy to stay with one girl too long. A fact her Testarossa had paid the price for . . .

"Yeah, I got that much . . . so, when do they serve the food and start all of this crap? Because I really don't like being here longer than necessary. We're too noticeable . . ."

He shrugged, glancing at his watch again before pushing back from the table and standing; extending his hand to her. She glanced at it skeptically before shrugging and let him pull her to her feet and out towards the dance floor.

"Sign by the door said dinner was at eight . . . and its almost seven thirty now . . . So lets blend and mingle until we get out plates. You do know how to dance right?"

She rolled her eyes, stopping and turning into him as they hit the floor; looping one arm around his shoulders as he took her other hand and started dancing in time with the music.

"Yeah, I think I can manage it. You don't have two left feet right?"

He glared at her before leading them across the floor, always mindful of her feet as he moved with her; occasionally spinning her out and back into him as she would laugh or blush . . . And as the music died down and the servers started bringing out the plates of food, she had to admit to herself that maybe this hadn't been the catastrophe she'd feared.

Frankie knew, as he watched Ripley laugh from the passenger side of the GT 500 that she was just as damned crazy as the rest of them. And it didn't make her any less attractive the way it had Sway. Hell, it made him want her more . . . but-as San had been quick to point out- the largest factor in that was that she'd told him no in the first place. He sighed, shifting gears again as he took the turn to Manday's. he knew the girl was off limits but damnation he could think about it . . .

He shook himself, turning back to the road as he made the last stretch to the drop. The actual boost had gone off without a hitch . . . and he knew that fact was going to eat away at Raines. Because it would mean that their leader had finally found his unicorn . . . Something that none of them had thought existed until his first tangle with Eleanor. Memphis Raines had an uncanny knack for boosting-for speed- that was deep rooted in his blood. One of the main reasons that-regardless of how aggravated or insulted he might get from time to time- Frank stayed loyal.

He'd been out on his own as a solo runner before he'd happened across Raines . . . only occasionally working with San when he had to. And though he'd been hesitant at first, he knew he'd made the right choice in hanging his kit with this crew. Because they had honestly become the closest thing he'd had to a family in years. Well, other than San. He slowed, turning into the lot and going around to the collectors, stepping out of the car with a great sense of accomplishment as Ripley poured out of the passenger seat. She flipped her curls over her shoulder, rolling her eyes at his own grin before turning to smile sweetly at Doug.

The older man patted her shoulder with a grin and a shake of his head before pointing to the main office.

"Your crew is in there . . . and man oh man, Manday wants them out. They've been pacing an fretting worse than a father on prom night . . ."

Ripley laughed, shaking her head as Doug stooped into the passenger seat. And as the car pulled off to the back Frankie had to shake himself as the girl turned a smile on him. As she turned to walk away he had an epiphany . . . and reached out to grab her arm to stop her. Only to quickly drop it from the severe look she leveled on him. Christ she was too damned scary to normally be so fucking sweet.

He shifted, glancing back at the door before he finally steeled himself.

"Look . . . I was an ass before, alright? And I'm always going to be an ass. But it was kind of . . . cool to work with you and I swear I won't renig on our deal or anything . . . But do you think we can just start over? You know, be civil with one another and everything? Because San is like my brother and he spends all of his time at Otto's with you now. I don't want to put him the spot to have to choose. Truce?"

Ripley looked at his outstretched hand for a few long minutes before rolling her eyes skyward and nodding once. She reached out, taking his hand and shaking it before letting it fall and turning back to the doors.

"We'll try it. But the same still goes. I will gut you for touching me, Frank. I'm serious . . ."

He blinked before grinning and nodding, moving to fall into step with her. And he couldn't help himself as he slung his arm over her shoulders and pulled her into his side. And, other than a long suffering sigh and another roll of her eyes, she didn't do much of anything to dissuade him. Hell, he could live with this. He reached out, going to push open the doors when an idea hit him.

"Hey, San and I were going to celebrate if we survived. You should go. Hell the whole damned crew should . . . what do ya say, Sin?"

She looked up to him, perplexed before blinking and nodding; turning to the others as they stepped inside. And he had to fight the cringe at the dark look Donnie and Sway were leveling on him. He leaned down, nudging her as she raised a brow.

"You think you could tell 'em we're cool now? Like before they kill me?"

Ripley nodded, waving to Sway as she stepped out from under his arm. And he loved the look that crossed Wayland's face as Ripley started talking about the boost. She gave him a skeptical look before turning to Donnie and Memphis. San however just strolled over to him, clapping him on the back and handing him a cigarette while he turned to the others with a grin.

"See? She didn't kill him. And they got Eleanor . . . we are going out to celebrate."

Ripley and Sway laughed as they moved across the crowded dance floor of Rage, the older girl with a drink securely in hand-and working not to spill it- while Ripley seemed to be concentrating on keeping Sway with her. Donnie turned, eyeing Memphis as he tossed back another shot with Frank and San. They had gotten the GT 500 in safely . . . and Memphis had been pleased and pissed all at once. Pleased because this set them firmly back in Cacuzza's good graces . . . and pissed because it meant he'd found the one car he would probably never be able to keep.

Donnie snorted, taking a long swig of his beer. Not that it would stop him from trying. He'd seen Memphis at the Café that night. Even drenched and bleeding and defeated, he was already thinking of how to get that damned car. Even if he wasn't aware of it. And speaking of not aware of . . .

He glanced over, watching Ripley laugh as Sway danced, shaking her head at her friend's antics before joining in. He'd called Atley to see if he wanted to join them and the other boost and declined. And Donnie knew it was because At was refusing to take the pain killers the docs had given him. The other boost hated the way they made him feel and was determined he could push through without it . . . but it also meant he wasn't as jolly as he usually was.

But Atley had sworn to come and see them at the garage tomorrow-that he would be back up and running by the end of the week-before offering to call Sphinx and extend the invitation. Only to call Manday's back a few minutes before they'd all lit out pissed as hell and demanding a pick up. Which is how he ended up in the booth across from him, brooding into his seventh shot of whiskey. Donnie sighed, waiting as San Memphis and Frank all cleared out to get more booze . . . only to get drug on the floor by a very intoxicated Sway and a giggling Ripley.

He shook his head, grinning before turning back to Atley. Who was watching the girl with an intense almost remorseful look. He raised a brow. Now he had to know what was wrong.

"You okay, Jackson? You've barely spoken since we got here . . . Actually other than doing your best fish impression you haven't really done much of anything."

Atley snorted, taking the shot to the head before slamming the empty glass down. He looked back out at the floor before sighing and running a hand down his face.

"Sphinx graciously declined our invitation . . . because apparently, he wasn't alone when I called."

Donnie stopped, doing a double take before he leaned across the table and hissed.

"Are you shitting me? They bounce back and forth and wind up the way we found 'em and he's got someone else there? In the fucking bed she gave him?"

Atley glared at the empty glass, nodding before continuing.

"Yeah . . . that's about the size of it. Damn idiot. I yelled at him about it and all I got was 'we're friends nothing more so nothing is wrong about it'. Which means when she finally realizes to ask where he is, I'm stuck lying to her to save her feelings. They may not see the way they look at one another but I sure as shit do . . . and even if she doesn't want him as anything else but a friend; that kid finds out he has someone else there when he pitched such a fit about her it'll kill her."

Donnie grumbled, draining his drink one go.

"Or she'll kill him. Christ . . . does he ever think? I mean, seriously?"

Atley shrugged, flagging down the waitress to grab another drink. And Donnie was quick to motion as well.

"I got no clue . . . I'm far from understanding him sometimes and this just proves I probably never will. But hell, it puts me in a bad place. He's my friend and partner . . . but that kid . . . "

Donnie nodded, knowing what Atley meant. Ripley was just as much a part of them as Sway or the others were . . . and had the added bonus of rarely doing stupid things to cause them aggravation. Oh sure her presence alone could do it sometimes-he swore she was like a black cat with how she could bring bad luck then skit away from it unscathed at the last minute- but it was never intentional. Something the others-even Memphis- couldn't always claim. He sighed, accepting the new drink before shaking his head. Christ what a mess . . .

"We'll take care of it. Just like before. But hey, at least she and Frank can be alone together now, right?"

Atley snorted, glaring at Frankie while Donnie laughed. The kid may have decided to let bygones be bygones but Atley seemed intent on remembering.

For now anyway . . .

Nobody kill me for the first little bit. this is all happening when everyone is alot younger. And everything will eventually make sense . . . .