GIVE IT UP | {Just So You Know}

Hot water streamed from the chrome shower head, hitting the bare neck of a woman as she gathered up her blonde hair, working shampoo into the strands. Releasing her wavy locks she tilted her head back and smoothed her hands over her face allowing any stray suds to wash away. Picking up her sleek bottle of shower gel and popping the cap open, the shrieking of her telephone ringing pierced the quiet atmosphere.

"Who the hell could that be?" she wondered as she turned the water off hurriedly, grabbing the fluffy white towel from a wicker basket and wrapping it around her torso. "If it's a telemarketer I swear I'll kill them..." she trailed off, wiping her feet on the bathroom mat and sprinting out of the bathroom. Grabbing the cordless, she pressed the on button before saying a breathless 'hello'.

"Hey Baby Blue," came a roguish smirk, and the woman laughed lightly, tightening the towel around her and sitting on the mahogany coffee table.

"Hey, what's up?" she replied, eyeing the wet puddles trailing from the bathroom to the living room.

"Do you feel like dressing all pretty and running the bar for an hour or so?" the speaker wheedled, and the woman exhaled sharply.

"Dilandau, I was just in the middle of a shower."

"So finish it up, change and get down here!" Dilandau urged, leaning against the bar counter, red eyes lingering over the pattern on his lighter. "Come on Celena, I know you love attention. With you tending, crowds of guys will be ordering drinks and flirting like fools."

"I don't flirt back," Celena replied indignantly, "It's not my fault they can't resist me," she joked.

"So you'll do it?" Dilandau confirmed, pleased as he uncrossed his arms and straightened up. Running a hand hurriedly through his silver hair, a line creased his forehead as Celena didn't reply for a moment.

"...What are siblings for if they don't take over shifts while you go have fun," Celena quipped dryly, "I'll be there in thirty minutes."

[__][__][__]

"I'm glad you came," husked the red head, her gray eyes glimmering with pleasure. Dilandau gave her a self indulgent smile as he lifted one arm and placed it on the wall behind her. It was quiet and dark, the only light a single bulb above the door in the alleyway.

"And pass up a chance to see you?" he teased, hooking a strand of hair behind her ear, "Never."

"Do I hear sarcasm in your voice?" she smirked slyly, leaning in slightly.

"Me? Sarcastic? That would be like saying I'm enjoying this greatly," Dilandau grinned, his auburn eyes flickering with amusement.

"Are you?"

Dilandau looked down at the red head for a moment, locking gray eyes with his own. Running his tongue along the back of his teeth absentmindedly, he leaned in closely. Their lips were millimeters apart, and Dilandau could feel the heat from her body radiating. Bringing his free hand to her waist, he drew her in from her spot leaning against the wall. It was like there was nothing else in the world, they'd be safe here.

[__][__][__]

True to Dilandau's word, tons of men were flocking at the bar, smiling lazily as she kept her gaze down on the counter. She had on a large crisp white man's shirt which she had tugged tightly around her torso and tied in the back, sleeves rolled up. White blonde hair was twisted up in a knot which allowed everyone to peer at her large, dreamy blue eyes which always seemed to be wide; full of a mixture of surprise and shyness.

Slinging the rag that she had been using to wipe the counter with over her shoulder, Celena leaned on the back bar slightly. She pretended not to hear the men talking lowly about her and her figure, the drunker speakers the louder ones.

"Look at that rack..."

"Yeah, booty call."

"Hey look, her thong's peeking out a bit," one of them muttered, and clenching her jaw Celena tugged her black tailored pants up slightly.

"Dude, I think she heard you," one of them laughed lowly, and they all got up and went over to the dance floor.

Sighing, Celena looked at the watch dangling on her left wrist. About twenty more minutes of this. Lowering her eyes, she recalled the conversation with her brother. True, she adored attention. But as years went by she became more of a product to men, she was always seen as just a shag. And they always had to be drunk.

"Martini please."

Not even looking up, Celena slowly gathered the bottles and shook up some vodka and vermouth. Pouring the clear liquid into a frail martini glass and dropping a green olive in, she pushed it forward and put the money into the register. Rolling her neck slightly, ridding it of any kinks, Celena wished she could go back home. Dilandau had this idea that she was so confident, like him...

Late night, in a lonely city...
So hard, she tries to look pretty,
Boys don't even notice her though,
She's in need of attention so...

Smiling dryly to herself, she propped up her chin on her hand. The only man who made her feel good about herself was Dilandau. Everyone else just made her feel so... Worthless. They could sing her praises but she saw the look in their eyes, it was hunger. And they would settle for whatever pretty face they got.

"Excuse me, what would you recommend?" came a deep masculine voice. Looking up, her eyes scanned the speaker's own deeply.

"Uh, that depends," Celena finally said slowly, keeping her expression cool.

"Well, if you were at my place," the man said wryly, "...I mean in."

Says she's got it all, says she's got it all, says she's got it all,
I don't wanna be the one to tell her that she don't,
Says she's got it all, says she's got it all, says she's got it,
I don't wanna be the one to tell her that she just don't,
Says she's got it all, says she's got it all, says she's got it...

[__][__][__]

A few people walking past the alley flickered their eyes down the long path and walked away briskly after noticing the dark outlines of two people in a very provocative position. Lowering his head to her ear he parted his lips slowly.

"The dragon's hungry."

"Shit. That throws things a bit off," the red head murmured, hooking her leg around the back of Dilandau's leg.

"I figured it meant something. They told me to tell you that," he replied quietly as he rubbed her back as if really into it.

"That means even if they find me, I owe the dragon the favor. I'm on his side that means, no matter what."

"Should I tell them?" Dilandau asked, pushing her gently against the wall.

"No. If we're lucky they won't find me and we can say the dragon did afterwards," the red head said slowly.

"They've got good technology and amazing agents," Dilandau trailed off, lowering his head to her neck and moving it gently. His lips never touched her skin, however.

"Not better then me," the red head smirked, and Dilandau straightened up. "Got a light?"

"What do you think?" Dilandau laughed, and taking the lighter out of his pocket he handed it to the woman. Running her thumb against the small metal wheel, a few sparks flying as a small flame ignited. Yanking off her red wig she walked over to a metal trashcan and held the fake hair over it. Catching the auburn locks on fire, she gently lowered it into the foul smelling container as it slowly burned to nothing.

"Thanks," she smiled, the flames in the trashcan illuminating the smooth lines of her face. Flickering her gray eyes over to the ladder a few feet above her head, she extended her hand to Dilandau.

"Bye sugar," Dilandau smirked as he shook her hand firmly, and laughing lightly the beauty looked up at the ladder before jumping and grabbing the first rung. Eventually making it all the way safely onto the ladder, she waved down at Dilandau absentmindedly before climbing up deftly, melting into the shadows.

[__][__][__]

Walking up to a pay phone, a man ran his fingers inside the change slot to find something soft. Pressing down and dragging the material out he flicked the white bundle open briskly, revealing a bright red lipstick mark on the white polyester blend material. Crumbling it into a ball and shoving it into the pocket of his leather jacket, he hopped onto his chrome Harley and roared down the street. Was he going backwards or forwards? The man clenched his jaw slightly as wind sailed through his hair. He could feel the small cardboard box containing a pair of gray colored contacts digging into his leg slightly as street lights whirred by him. Three items. The handkerchief, the box, the Caribbean Smuggler. If the points were plotted on a map it formed a small triangle, and she would be within it.

Still, a needle is hard to find in hay no matter how big the bundle is.