- Chapter Seventy-Nine (And A Half) -

Eye Luv U

Proving her point, Daniella gave him one tender kiss, just... like... that.

Fingers momentarily going slack around her shoulders at the sweet yet unexpectedly renewed contact, the spirals that Sam had been drawing over her skin ceased, the prints smearing away like a temporary impression on a steamy window. Glass surface smudged by the rough wear of the road, all the practice handling her with the due amount of care had paid off in spades, all but ensuring that the trail left in his wake had been as good as invisible. Although, with only the sound a steady thump-thump in the backseat, a subtle shift like that might not have been a bad thing.

Meanwhile, transfixed here in the early morning glow, there was a muggy tropical island lost to a wall of welcoming mist. Less a conscious choice and more the circumstance of what others called fate, from the sclera to the iris, every part of the eye was drawn straight to the only movement being made. It would have been fair to assume that all attention was on the human intricacies, however everything was focused laser-fine on the slinky strap of her embroidered nightshirt as it fell away (leave it to the princessa to dress nice for bed too). Neither very pulsed about the accident, Sleeping Beauty was the first to break the spell, brushing her thumb up along his knuckle in some code that had yet to be cracked.

Oops, her bluebell gaze seemed to shrug with a certain kind of innocence, what ever shall we do now? As much as the girl may have wanted to return the gesture and grant him the same courtesies he had given her, at the same time she still needed to know if there was any kind of hope to be had. Decisions, decisions.

At any other given time with literally almost anybody else, the grizzled brunette knew without a doubt that he would have taken that naïve little look as a challenge, however this once he strangely found himself refraining. Seizing back the reigns on this one, the historian leaned back into the not-quite-platonic show of affection, bringing his mug closer to hers that it was hovering mere inches away. Practiced enough to recognize that the seam of her mouth was slightly parted in anticipation, like before Sam could feel himself holding back, and yet, unlike before this was... for him?

Sincerity a brand new taste - one that the experienced treasure hunter frankly found to be as blood-curdling scary as it was adrenaline-pumping exciting - the most basic aspect of man was curious as the proverbial cat to chase this daring experiment to the recipe with a little more action. Partner clearly more than willing to play along with that much, he felt an additional burst of appreciation for the heiress. Even though he found sex to be the easiest part.

Cracking wise was simply the Drake way, his own spin being that acting on impulse was more than a shade of identity and not just a reaction. So then why was Sam finding it so damn hard to do when the universe was giving him just about every green light imaginable? A slow-dropping pendulum of death that froze just short of connection, this felt kinda... buzzy? Within a drink of the line between tipsy and smashed, this right here was new ground (even if somehow parts of this dance felt somehow familiar).

Neither a complete monster nor remotely conceited enough to miss the way that the thief was shying away, the young woman reluctantly removed her hand from the top of his to straighten her billowy blouse. While she was admittedly more than a bit disappointed that things were ending this way after all, Daniella found that she cared more about his feelings than her lady bits, so she smiled. Sun bright and genuine, the heiress tried out a good-natured impression of Sam, despite getting tripped-up by the Boston accent.

"We don't have to do anything you're uncomfortable with," accent coming out more bad Texan than anything else, the city girl couldn't keep a straight face to save her life, but bless her for trying, "you hear that, baby?" Committing herself to the part for better or worse, Dells faltered especially hard at the end, unsure about whether or not to go all out and call him baby girl. Wrong on just about every level, the real hang-up was that it was one of his names for her; Dells might have been given over to more common use, but baby girl was still special.

Playing along like the drama queen he was, Sam pouted at the heiress as if she had wounded him, "I so don't sound like that."

Exploring the undefined boundaries of where it was and wasn't alright to stray, Sleeping Beauty gingerly tapped her half-furled joints against his chest, a teasing smirk pulling at the corners of her mouth. Daring herself to hold true to her word that he could trust her, Dells chortled, "Who said that was supposed to be you?"

Very amused by the undignified guffaw that unceremoniously escaped her royal highness, somehow this magic moment was so much easier than he would have guessed possible. "Oh, so you wanna be like that, huh?"

Making like he was going to tuck back some of those stubborn gold hairs that refused to stay in place, Sam feinted the daughter of a known fencer, tugging lightly at the strands instead. Hopefully she didn't take the sport seriously. Countering her sass with a little lip of his own, it was like being back in elementary school all over again, only instead of tormenting little Jenny for the other half of her cookie, Samuel was after something a little different. Something more pure.

Cementing absolutely nothing at all, in a moment of self-truth the tatted ex-con used the moment of leverage to guide her closer, once again bringing them to the cusp of physical contact. Constant waves of quickened sitcom back-and-forth equally nauseating and unnerving, it wasn't indecision so much as it was a matter of feeling out the line in the sand, the point in their relationship that was too far. Squeamish at the implications of the concept, the smoking paragon of great life decisions cursed the English language for there not being a quick go-to word for the bond between two people. Rather, one that didn't immediately carry any romantic connotations.

"...Dells?"

Pretty sure that they would never fully arrive at that destination in particular, he didn't notice that his tone had wavered... only that the trappings of temptation were one gigantic red flag. Pondering briefly to himself if maybe they oughta kill any and all paths that strayed even remotely close to that road, he stole a glance back at her eyes. Noticing that they were almost a kind of hazel in this light, for a shining moment the thief was looking beyond color, witnessing a spectrum of emotion flowing through the many shades of gray and blue. Obviously unaware of what his own eyes were doing, it was a two-way mirror, the layers of deep brown and blue causing a ripple that could be read.

"C'mere." Starting out so tender before teetering the line between endearing persistence and unwitting aggression, the victor was selected when she checked the box marked 'leader'. Legitimately oblivious to the fact (and degree) that she was the one instigating the majority and that he was playing on the defensive, the young woman wound her arm through his only to suddenly rip her half of the magnet away, "Now."

Fairly certain that her former shell of a self would have said please so sweetly it caused cavities, she doubled-down on this course, ruthlessly yanking the man all the way down to her level so that they were both on their backs staring up at the grubby ceiling. Remembering how perfect those hours outside the hotel were, even though it was futile under the circumstances Dells found herself wishing that they were underneath the starry sky again - it might have given them more options to work with at the very least. At best... Well, the important thing was that they were together, and he was humoring her hitherto unexplained demand.

"Uh, Dells?" Aware of the fact that he was still trying to keep the young woman at bay for whatever reason, the thief wasn't too sure about humoring this much further... but damn if he wasn't intrigued to see where this was going.

Twisting her head around so that they could maintain eye contact (honestly, how had she gone all that time avoiding it?), the princess grinned coquettishly at her pauper, "There's no milky way up there, but if we close our eyes, maybe we can imagine it." Gently laying one of her more damaged fingers atop his lips to silence the man, she pointed upwards with her other hand, "Shh, I'm looking for Orion."

Grasping what it was she was doing at long last, having served a sizable sentence in a hole, the former inmate could appreciate the effort. Okay, so just maybe he could have gotten behind this act before then too, but he was way too old for those kinds of what-ifs. "Alright, I'll bite. You're looking for Orion, right? Have you tried over there, next to that dark spot that looks suspiciously like mold?" Joining in the game like a good sport, he gestured over to the corner nearest the bathroom.

Face lighting up as it burst into two, the girl grinned at him with joy alive in the midst of the mist, "Yeah, you're right!" Finger stabbing into the air, she swung it around like it was a conductors baton, "There's his belt, see?"

"Yeah..." Sparing the pretend constellation a cursory glance that lasted for all of four glorious seconds, Sam spent longer looking at the young woman laying next to him. God dammit. "I do."

[The Time To Play Pretend Has Passed]

Basking in the eleven o'clock simmer as the world soldiered on outside, after counting imaginary stars the twosome had huddled up against the waiting weight of responsibility and curled up... together. Hands finding a way to innocuously brush up against one another as if they were a couple of shy squares from the 50's, a certain blonde head was cradled between Sam's neck and shoulder, getting a front row seat to the only four birds he could truly count on. Totally not sniffing the generic shampoo scent that covered up something markedly better, the ex-con was perching his head over the top of hers, looking ahead at an empty hotel room.

Restless if anything, sitting still for this long was starting to take its toll on the pair.

Sam was usually making the most of his freedom, whether that meant working or crawling from one pub to the next via the first available one-night stand; doing nothing like this was just not something he could see himself getting used to. Kinda like doing the whole family thing. Sure, it suited Nathan, and he wasn't completely a shit uncle, but long-term? He physically couldn't do it. Despite studying subjects that seemed like they could never be of use in the real world and not usually cracking the top three of anything, Daniella was an avid reader and active little thing; ergo, her time was spent either in class, in the library, doing something for school, training for some event, or participating in said event. Girl needed to keep herself busy, because what else did that leave her with?

Technically speaking there was nothing keeping either of them there, and yet... neither one was in a rush to make the first move and disrupt this comfortable new silence. Laying there in their pajamas in the middle of the afternoon, the scene was picturesque, the sort of thing you saw in music videos or stock photos. A pretty girl smiling to herself, an older man thinking he had found something he hadn't known before, it was fodder for a sad indie love song - although, wasn't that what they were?

Cranky old badgers with their fists in the air and canes swinging dangerously, it was painfully obvious to see that neither were willing to cop to anything out loud lest they have their hearts broken. All anyone had to do was admit the most basic of feelings, to open up a dialog, but no; adamant till the bitter end, they were hurting themselves more by wasting what precious little time they had. Obviously they knew better, so why not just cut out the middleman?

Index and middle fingers growing more daring with each pass, the one time it might've been called an accident, the island rose out of the mist and greeted the hidden underwater inhabitants with a half-smile, "You still awake?"

Like she was going to be asleep! "Yeah. What is it?"

Double-dammit, this was one of those times he forgot that girls knew how to talk too. Quick as ever to pull something out of nothing, the aged adventurer hadn't taken the time to consider the topics he had pulled out from the top hat - in hindsight, he probably should have.

"You don't..." Holding a couple options he had seemingly pulled up from the dark bottom of a silk hat, Sam second-guessed what he had been about to say, finding his tongue thick with doubt. Instead he went with something that was bothering him almost as much, "You don't really think of me as a hooker, do ya?"

Closing her eyes against the lowest of the four avian outlines, the heiress couldn't say she was all that surprised that the comment would rear its ugly head. Regretting how bratty she could get, Sleeping Beauty slowly peered up through her lashes, "I don't suppose we can sweep that one under the rug, can we?" Probably something her parents should have taught her, the heiress had learned from her step-father that there were certain times you couldn't just take back something you said. This was clearly one of those.

Not liking the way she was avoiding the question, for the less-than-eager explorer it wasn't as simple as just telling himself that she knew as well as he did that this was going to be an issue. He held on to things - sometimes - and this just happened to be one of them. Added to the list, it wasn't his fault that he cared about what the girl thought! "You aren't answering my question."

Sigh largely annoyed and a tad too loud for comfort (granted science was to blame for that one, as she was directly on top of him), the young woman's smile cracked into frown territory, "Seriously?"

His face gave her the answer she least wanted to hear.

It was a mistake to go that far, true, but Dells wondered if it was really worth this production, "Jesus Sam, no, I don't think of you like that, alright?" Steering clear of the 'hooker' word and speaking concisely so that he couldn't misconstrue what she was actually saying, the trained lady righted herself so that she was looking down on him like the entitled brat she was.

Rays of sunshine bringing the natural umber out below the cracked layer of pyrite, she was positively glowing beneath a curtain of molten gold, desperate for any kind of salvation out at sea. Drifting straight towards the only two islands in sights, the thief reached out to stroke her cheek; rebuffed with a dignified swat, the mist swirled dangerously, threatening to drown anything unfortunate enough to be caught on the shore. Locked in the historian's rock-steady gaze, the heiress felt her chest seize up and her heart pump double to make up for the sudden skip. It was frankly getting increasingly difficult to hold herself back, to pretend that she didn't feel something deeper than mere friendship every time their eyes met, that her heart didn't flutter every time she touched his hand.

Frustration bubbling over, the ex-con shifted below the small package he was technically being paid to protect, hand still hovering close enough to risk a second swipe. Blood, meat, and bone tingling along the stiff joints of his battered mitts, Sam flexed the five malleable digits midair before grazing his original target. Even the blind could plainly see that she was angry and upset, that she viewed the whole thing as a mistake (which he could agree was being blown well out of proportion by this point). Anyone with half a brain probably would have agreed that it was internet textbook insanity to try again, yet that was exactly what he did.

Pseudo-blonde strands dangling freely as she made to claw his paw off, the auburn-haired grifter caught the girl by surprise at the last possible moment, lazily trailing his palm along the length of her neck. Thumb catching in the space between her throat and jaw for a whole nanosecond, Sam allowed her meek attempt to breeze on by. Standing his ground and holding fast, the man used his position to gently guide the young woman exactly where he wanted her... crushing right against him with everything she had.

Guessing correctly that neither was about to pass by such an opportunity, Drake brought her down low, just close enough to dust the tip of the other's nose. Really no closer than he had come this morning, the (reluctant) trailblazing silver fox maybe should have left space for her to decide, however she'd left more than a couple indicators that it was fair game. So in that spirit, he did the only sensible thing and closed that gap.

Heavy eye contact was the first, deeply profound consideration was the second, and opaque acceptance third.

Lashes a living forest that guarded the treasure trove buried beneath the shallow surface, the jolt of lightening that flashed rekindled the smoldering ashes of an old SOS. Caught fanning the embers, the soul surviving within the crystal lens looked outwards for a sign. A soft whisper to reaffirm that they still existed in this place, a light touch to remind they were still alive, anything that might offer even the smallest kernel of hope in this self-imposed darkness. Peripherals a poor man's scope of things, painted beneath the dripping cosmic canvas of a million stars, what laid ahead was just as precious as the map to another lost civilization.

Need and want. Both were capable of surviving this part on their lonesome, even if there some self-doubt as to that; the hitch was that neither of them cared to go it alone anymore. Drawing breath from the other, the sensible question pounding inside their collective craniums might have been when exactly that had become the case - a hundred years condensed down into a pocketful of weeks, who cared about the 'when' when neither had much of a head for anniversaries?

So for those still holding out for the logical side of this affair, it was only natural to ask that if the timeline didn't matter, then surely the real question must have been why, right? A babied rich girl still in the process of finishing up high school, a crusty ex-con with a chip on his shoulder and the desire to have the adventure to end all adventures... This job was never going to be that thing for him, and so far as the girl was concerned she'd just been thrown into the deep-end holding a ticking bomb. Add in their interwoven histories... No one in their right mind thought this was going to end well for anybody. Chloe, Victor, hell even surfer dude Logan had clocked it from the very start. So then why make the investment?

Honestly, it would have been easier to solve some big global problem like the socio-economic divide or the blood-thirsty nature of man than figure that one out. Hormones, pheromones, attraction, use whatever buzzword you would for it, the fact was that they were just drawn to one another, to the point that they were still attempting to hook-up after she'd been mentally, emotionally, and physically accosted by the past. Baby girl had issues, and so did he. Despite swearing that they wouldn't allow themselves to get their hopes up and fall, that was precisely what had happened, end of story.

If that took care of the 'when' and 'why' of it, all that remained to settle was the rest.

Dancing around the largest obstacles embedded deep within the topics for as long as they possible could, easily the most anxiety-inducing follow-up was where did they go from here? At the risk of hi-jacking a sliver of the spotlight, would they show up at his niece's party trying to act like nothing had changed between them when in truth nothing was the same? Holding hands, all laughter and smiles as they went about their final hours on the island, assuming that things went the way the twosome expected they would, it would all be a lie that just barely masked the inner anguish. Hate and humiliation very real possibilities, no matter who the asshole was that cracked first and finally brought the subject to forefront, it was almost second-nature to imagine what would (or wouldn't) be said.

Banking on the 'L' word that he never used, Sam involuntarily pictured all the several ways this could go belly-up... and then he went all Christmas Carol and imagined the alternative. Visited by apparitions of past, present, and future, like old miserly Scrooge himself the man was moved strongly by visions of the later two; perhaps a taste of what could have been waiting, he saw his lips pressed flush against each and every one of her scars, the sunlight dying in her hair as dusk settled. Asking himself if he thought it was worth it, the thief only had to look up at the young woman perched overhead to have his answer.

Vegas on her own volition and without companionship decidedly not her scene, Dells was willing to bet big on the 'L' word that she never anticipated needing. Cards a passing fancy in lieu of better options, drink only led to black holes of embarrassment, and no matter what anyone said, debauchery was only so fun without the right company. So that only left one other thing Sin City was known for; fun as an all-expenses paid binge with her theoretical girlfriends might have been, even under the best of circumstances the heiress couldn't see a single reason why else she might be roped to that side. Although, maybe it wouldn't have been so bad fifteen or so years from now, a certain blonde eloping with her uncle as one of the only two witnesses...

In the words of a true Greaser: You're the one that I want.

Author's Note:

I think I'm done with scenes like this, but then they go and find a way to make a comeback. Oh well. A little blurp that kinda started in the last chapter, the original idea was for them to make love (my guide was literally 'Yahui sends Jian a message, and Sam and Dells make love'), but with the way that chapter came out I quickly figured that that wasn't going to happen. And for the next full chapter... well, you'll see. Either way, this wasn't going to work without another half-chapter, so here we all are.

How is it silent if there are three voices?

You know, it just occurred to me that this chapter would make a lot more sense to come out on Valentine's Day. Oh well, it is what it is.