God, she had the most beautiful hands.
How many times had he watched her perform the most mundane tasks, brushing her hair or writing a letter in her delicate, immaculate script. He had imagined what it was like to be touched with hands like that. He craved such affection, the unconditional adoration that only women seemed capable of possessing.
Now she sat cross-legged in front of him, her dark eyes staring into his own.
"I've been waiting." She said softly. She ran her fingertips along his face, stopping at the curve of his jaw to draw closer, enveloping him in the intoxicating cinnamon of her perfume.
"Do you like my outfit? It's very in."
She motioned to the black satin nightgown she wore. As she stood up to model it, he realized it barely graced her thighs.
"What's wrong?" She knelt back down beside him, her voice turning hurt. "Don't you want to touch?"
Lucafont awoke to the sound of the radio blaring in his ear.
"Flacutono?" He yawned, "How long was I out?"
There was no answer. He looked around groggily, and realized Flacutono was no where to be found.
The car was still, parked on the edge of what looked like a gas station parking lot.
The sun was going down already, bathing the car and it's occupants in the gold light of pre-sunset. He had slept through lunch. Damn.
He stretched out his limbs as best he could in the cramped backseat, and reached up for the pack of cigarettes on the dashboard before remembering he had taken off one of his hooks.
Lucafont sighed, and pushed his hair out of his face with his relatively normal forearm. It wasn't worth the effort of reattaching both so called hands just for a cigarette.
Since Olaf was not present, he climbed up into the driver's seat, where he could stretch his legs out better. He was tired of sitting in back. Next time, he would insist on driving. Besides, the driver picked the radio station. Since nobody but Olaf ever got a chance to drive, he could only imagine a car ride without the tiresome music his boss usually played. The tape ejected and Lucafont let it fall to the floor. He looked over at the passenger's seat, and frowned.
Esme was sprawled out over the entire front seat. Evidently not caring much for the comfort of the henchpeople behind her, she had laid it backward to create a makeshift bed for herself. At the change in radio stations she shifted in her seat, and yawned, but did not open her eyes.
Her top few buttons were coming undone, giving a glimpse of a blue cotton undershirt peeking out.
Lucafont quickly looked away. The last thing he needed right now was to be caught looking down Olaf's girlfriend's shirt.
What was wrong with him? She was cruel, demanding, jealous and impatient. Everything he would avoid in a woman, if he had a choice. Hands or no hands he was still a man, and beggars couldn't be choosers. Lucafont had relegated himself to a diet of prostitutes -they did it for the money, and smashed party girls -they did it for the novelty. He couldn't decide which was more degrading.
With a frown, he lay back in the driver's seat and closed his eyes. Love was giving him a massive headache.
"You had that dream again," a soft, mocking voice whispered behind him. Lucafont didn't need to turn around to know who it was.
"What do you think I should do?"
There was a pause. "I don't think she likes you much."
Leave it to Tocuna to state the obvious.
Lucafont sighed, and motioned to the pack of cigarettes on the dashboard. "I noticed. Light me one."
"There are others, you know." Tocuna added, lighting a cigarette up and placing it in Lucafont's mouth, then taking one for herself. "Don't tell Flo I'm smoking."
Lucafont shrugged. "I won't. Where is your sister anyway?"
"Went with Olaf."
"And everyone else?"
"They went without you. And her. And I was busy."
"What are you making this time?"
Tocuna held up a pair of scissors, and smiled.
He turned around. The backseat was littered with menacing looking paper dolls. Demonic, spidery creatures. Lucafont frowned. That was strange, even for Tocuna.
He sometimes wondered why Olaf agreed to take her as a henchperson when she did nothing of any use to anybody. She read maps, but not very well.
She could sew, but again, not very well. She did make a good lasagna, but that didn't seem reason enough to include her in the troupe. Maybe it was just Flo Olaf had been after. What did it matter? He had always looked on the two of them as true freaks. Being born with no hands was one thing, being born with such twisted psychology was another.
"Why do you pretend to be normal?" Tocuna asked, "Like you can get girls the same as any other man? Puts too much pressure on yourself."
"Why do you pretend to be mute?" Lucafont responded.
Tocuna shrugged, and leaned forward onto Lucafont's back. "People treat me special. Don't you want to feel special?"
"Your sister worries about you."
"My sister thinks I don't know anything. I've learned more than she knows."
She giggled as she reached out a slender hand to touch Esme's face.
"She's pretty, isn't she?"
Lucafont nodded. "Beautiful."
"I would've been too, if it weren't for the fire."
Lucafont nodded again. "Come on, try to get some more sleep. Long night of driving ahead."
"I'm not tired." She retorted, and Lucafont rolled his eyes. This was her favorite game to play, and with his headache intensifying, the last thing Lucafont wanted was one of the twins hanging on him all night.
He felt her hand on his shoulder, and shook her off. "Not now."
With an eerie laugh, she snatched the hat from his head.
"Give that back, you silly child." Lucafont grumbled. He was seriously not in the mood.
He made a swipe at it, but couldn't catch it.
"That's enough."
"Come get it if you want it." She taunted, waving the hat at him.
She giggled again, and held it just out of reach. Lucafont made another attempt to retrieve it but missed again, this time burying his hook in the upholstery of the car seat. With gritted teeth he pulled it out, trying to ignore the pain it caused in his already twisted shoulder.
"What did I say?" He snapped. He pressed the sharp end of his hook against the white of her neck and she let out a sharp gasp, both hands clutching her throat.
She shoved the hat back at him.
"Bastard." Tocuna muttered, retreating into the backseat.
With a sigh, Lucafont closed his eyes again and tried to ignore Tocuna's whimpering. He hadn't broken skin but without a doubt, he had bruised her. There would be hell to pay when Flo returned.
Never fall for the bosses' girl. Wasn't that the cardinal law of the workplace? Break one little rule and the whole system falls out from under you.
Dammit.
