Hillary groaned as I presented myself from the walk in wardrobe.
"I really thought we were getting somewhere after the Triangle."
"Just because you got me to wear a dress, does not mean that I'm going to stop wearing the clothes that I like."
I checked myself in the full-length mirror. Asymmetric hem black skirt cutting from just below my right knee to half way up my left thigh, cranberry cropped top and sheer black vest, black heeled ankle boots. My usual club style. Plonking down into the chair at the dresser I began to put on my make up as Hillary, sighing resignedly, reached for a hairbrush and began to twist and clip strands of my hair haphazardly on my head, a style I favoured but could never quite master on my own.
"Do you think Kurtis is going to stay?" Hillary asked, and then, "Sorry," as he pulled my hair a little too tightly and I winced.
"Actually," I replied, smiling, "I think he is."
Appearing at the top of the stairs, I was met with two synchronised wolf whistles and then two fits of laughter directed at each other as Bryce and Kurtis simultaneously teased me. Giving them a mock glare, I descended to the entrance hall. Bryce hurled some car keys at Hillary, who would be driving us and picking us up afterwards so that we could drink, and we left en masse, Bryce humming an unnamed techno tune to himself.
Piling into the Land Cruiser, usually reserved for carrying large amounts of equipment for my travels, we settled comfortably in the back as Hillary started the engine and guided us out of the garage and grounds.
"Looking good, Bryce," I teased, observing his every day outfit of jeans and T-shirt that I didn't think had been changed for two days in stark contrast to unusually tamed hair.
"Ah, well, there're girls in clubs." He grinned and slid down further into his seat so he could kick me lightly.
"Heels!" I warned, holding up the stilettos of my boots, and he backed off with mock terror.
"Go clubbing often?" I asked Kurtis, taking in his black combat trousers and the shirt with skull design he'd worn in Paris and Prague. His hair was still unkempt, though differently, as if he'd actually styled it to look messy for our outing. That wasn't what was different, though, and I frowned to try and work out just what was wrong with his appearance as something I couldn't quite place nagged at me. Then it hit me. "Didn't that shirt get a huge hole in it courtesy of Boaz?"
"Only when I'm going incognito to follow someone, and yes, it did, this is a different shirt."
"You have two shirts the same?" I asked, raising my eyebrows.
"Actually, five." At Bryce and mines' incredulous expressions, he continued, "What? I like this shirt, and in my line of work clothes don't last long."
I laughed and kicked my legs up onto the seat next to me, settling down for the ride into the town.
We danced, drank and partied until half past one in the morning, none of us accepting any of the attention we were offered by those looking to meet people, instead preferring to stay within our trio facing each other on the dance floor and losing ourselves in the music. I enjoyed nightclubs immensely, but rarely went, preferring to keep it as a treat instead of letting it slide into normality and boredom.
Half an hour before closing time we left, hoping to avoid the crush and fights that always accompanied the mass exodus from a club. Unfortunately, we weren't so lucky. After ringing Hillary to let him know we were ready to come home, we loitered at the entrance to an alley at the back of the club, leaning against the walls and chatting about nothing of consequence.
Maybe it was because they were drunk and had the bravado of being in a group, maybe it was because I was on the opposite side of the alley to Bryce and Kurtis and gave off the impression I was actually out alone, but after about five minutes, a trio of young men came over to me.
"Need a lift?"
"No thank you, mine's on the way," I smiled pleasantly, hoping they would leave it at that before a situation developed.
"Cold night to be waiting, our car's just around the corner," one of them said, leering.
"No thank you," I repeated a little more firmly.
"Oh come on," another slurred, reaching for my arm.
Bryce had yet to say anything, knowing that not only was I fully capable of handling the situation, but that also I didn't appreciate others not letting me. Kurtis, however, did not know.
"Leave her alone," he said, loudly and firmly.
"Hey, man, we're just being nice." They turned back to me and continued to proposition me. I pushed off the wall and stood straight, fixing them with a stare and challenging them to push their luck.
The next thing I knew, Kurtis had grabbed one by the shoulder, spun him round and punched him squarely in the jaw, before getting leapt on by the other two. A full blown brawl developed, and both Bryce and I intervened. Bryce hauled the one Kurtis had hit to his feet and shoved him back towards the alley wall, away from the skirmish so that he could concentrate on the one person. I pulled one off Kurtis and landed a kick to his stomach, shoving him to the floor as he staggered back. Kurtis entered into a fistfight with the remaining unfortunate, and I waited for mine to scramble to his feet. He lunged at me with a fist but I ducked neatly and bought my right elbow down on the left side of his face, sending him staggering sideways. He tripped and fell, and again I waited for him to get back up but his eyes focused on something over my shoulder.
I turned to see Kurtis just winning his fight, the youth scrabbling back up from the floor and taking off down the street in a frantic, haphazard run. A scuffle behind me caught my attention, and I turned back only to find my own opponent following his friend. The two fighting Kurtis and I had realised that their drunken brawling couldn't match our trained combat skills, and the third, holding his own against the less trained Bryce, ran off when he realised his friends were half way down the street, yelling for him to join them.
We stood, panting slightly after the exertion; I had apparently had it far easier than Kurtis and Bryce – I knew that kicks and elbows finished off an opponent much more quickly than punches alone.
"Everyone alright?" Kurtis asked in between heavy breaths.
I glared. He returned the look with one of confusion, apparently very unhappy under my accusing gaze.
"What?!"
"You had to start a fight, didn't you? Couldn't just leave it alone!"
"Well, I'm sorry if my concern was misplaced!"
"It was!" He didn't answer so I spoke again. "I appreciate the help, Kurtis, but you don't have to beat someone up when you can just as easily talk your way out of it. Just because you can fight doesn't mean you have to. What's wrong with the smart option?"
"And what's that?" Kurtis stepped towards me, challenging me.
"Talking, Kurtis. Draws less attention to yourself, allows you to concentrate your energies elsewhere. I'm amazed you've survived this long if you want to solve everything with violence."
"I've survived this long because I don't let anyone mess me around."
I had no answer to that, my mind too fuzzed with anger to think properly, so I settled for staring him down. Bryce was standing nearby, watching the interchange, unsure what to do.
We were saved by the sound of a large engine-ed car pulling up; Hillary. Glaring at Kurtis one last time, I threw myself into the front passenger seat. My companions got into the back, and we pulled back out onto the road.
"Did you have a good night?" Hillary asked.
"Yes, thankyou," I replied curtly.
I saw Hillary glance at the others in the rear view mirror questioningly, but, realising that something was obviously up, he said nothing, and the rest of the journey and our paths to our bedrooms were passed in stony silence.
"I really thought we were getting somewhere after the Triangle."
"Just because you got me to wear a dress, does not mean that I'm going to stop wearing the clothes that I like."
I checked myself in the full-length mirror. Asymmetric hem black skirt cutting from just below my right knee to half way up my left thigh, cranberry cropped top and sheer black vest, black heeled ankle boots. My usual club style. Plonking down into the chair at the dresser I began to put on my make up as Hillary, sighing resignedly, reached for a hairbrush and began to twist and clip strands of my hair haphazardly on my head, a style I favoured but could never quite master on my own.
"Do you think Kurtis is going to stay?" Hillary asked, and then, "Sorry," as he pulled my hair a little too tightly and I winced.
"Actually," I replied, smiling, "I think he is."
Appearing at the top of the stairs, I was met with two synchronised wolf whistles and then two fits of laughter directed at each other as Bryce and Kurtis simultaneously teased me. Giving them a mock glare, I descended to the entrance hall. Bryce hurled some car keys at Hillary, who would be driving us and picking us up afterwards so that we could drink, and we left en masse, Bryce humming an unnamed techno tune to himself.
Piling into the Land Cruiser, usually reserved for carrying large amounts of equipment for my travels, we settled comfortably in the back as Hillary started the engine and guided us out of the garage and grounds.
"Looking good, Bryce," I teased, observing his every day outfit of jeans and T-shirt that I didn't think had been changed for two days in stark contrast to unusually tamed hair.
"Ah, well, there're girls in clubs." He grinned and slid down further into his seat so he could kick me lightly.
"Heels!" I warned, holding up the stilettos of my boots, and he backed off with mock terror.
"Go clubbing often?" I asked Kurtis, taking in his black combat trousers and the shirt with skull design he'd worn in Paris and Prague. His hair was still unkempt, though differently, as if he'd actually styled it to look messy for our outing. That wasn't what was different, though, and I frowned to try and work out just what was wrong with his appearance as something I couldn't quite place nagged at me. Then it hit me. "Didn't that shirt get a huge hole in it courtesy of Boaz?"
"Only when I'm going incognito to follow someone, and yes, it did, this is a different shirt."
"You have two shirts the same?" I asked, raising my eyebrows.
"Actually, five." At Bryce and mines' incredulous expressions, he continued, "What? I like this shirt, and in my line of work clothes don't last long."
I laughed and kicked my legs up onto the seat next to me, settling down for the ride into the town.
We danced, drank and partied until half past one in the morning, none of us accepting any of the attention we were offered by those looking to meet people, instead preferring to stay within our trio facing each other on the dance floor and losing ourselves in the music. I enjoyed nightclubs immensely, but rarely went, preferring to keep it as a treat instead of letting it slide into normality and boredom.
Half an hour before closing time we left, hoping to avoid the crush and fights that always accompanied the mass exodus from a club. Unfortunately, we weren't so lucky. After ringing Hillary to let him know we were ready to come home, we loitered at the entrance to an alley at the back of the club, leaning against the walls and chatting about nothing of consequence.
Maybe it was because they were drunk and had the bravado of being in a group, maybe it was because I was on the opposite side of the alley to Bryce and Kurtis and gave off the impression I was actually out alone, but after about five minutes, a trio of young men came over to me.
"Need a lift?"
"No thank you, mine's on the way," I smiled pleasantly, hoping they would leave it at that before a situation developed.
"Cold night to be waiting, our car's just around the corner," one of them said, leering.
"No thank you," I repeated a little more firmly.
"Oh come on," another slurred, reaching for my arm.
Bryce had yet to say anything, knowing that not only was I fully capable of handling the situation, but that also I didn't appreciate others not letting me. Kurtis, however, did not know.
"Leave her alone," he said, loudly and firmly.
"Hey, man, we're just being nice." They turned back to me and continued to proposition me. I pushed off the wall and stood straight, fixing them with a stare and challenging them to push their luck.
The next thing I knew, Kurtis had grabbed one by the shoulder, spun him round and punched him squarely in the jaw, before getting leapt on by the other two. A full blown brawl developed, and both Bryce and I intervened. Bryce hauled the one Kurtis had hit to his feet and shoved him back towards the alley wall, away from the skirmish so that he could concentrate on the one person. I pulled one off Kurtis and landed a kick to his stomach, shoving him to the floor as he staggered back. Kurtis entered into a fistfight with the remaining unfortunate, and I waited for mine to scramble to his feet. He lunged at me with a fist but I ducked neatly and bought my right elbow down on the left side of his face, sending him staggering sideways. He tripped and fell, and again I waited for him to get back up but his eyes focused on something over my shoulder.
I turned to see Kurtis just winning his fight, the youth scrabbling back up from the floor and taking off down the street in a frantic, haphazard run. A scuffle behind me caught my attention, and I turned back only to find my own opponent following his friend. The two fighting Kurtis and I had realised that their drunken brawling couldn't match our trained combat skills, and the third, holding his own against the less trained Bryce, ran off when he realised his friends were half way down the street, yelling for him to join them.
We stood, panting slightly after the exertion; I had apparently had it far easier than Kurtis and Bryce – I knew that kicks and elbows finished off an opponent much more quickly than punches alone.
"Everyone alright?" Kurtis asked in between heavy breaths.
I glared. He returned the look with one of confusion, apparently very unhappy under my accusing gaze.
"What?!"
"You had to start a fight, didn't you? Couldn't just leave it alone!"
"Well, I'm sorry if my concern was misplaced!"
"It was!" He didn't answer so I spoke again. "I appreciate the help, Kurtis, but you don't have to beat someone up when you can just as easily talk your way out of it. Just because you can fight doesn't mean you have to. What's wrong with the smart option?"
"And what's that?" Kurtis stepped towards me, challenging me.
"Talking, Kurtis. Draws less attention to yourself, allows you to concentrate your energies elsewhere. I'm amazed you've survived this long if you want to solve everything with violence."
"I've survived this long because I don't let anyone mess me around."
I had no answer to that, my mind too fuzzed with anger to think properly, so I settled for staring him down. Bryce was standing nearby, watching the interchange, unsure what to do.
We were saved by the sound of a large engine-ed car pulling up; Hillary. Glaring at Kurtis one last time, I threw myself into the front passenger seat. My companions got into the back, and we pulled back out onto the road.
"Did you have a good night?" Hillary asked.
"Yes, thankyou," I replied curtly.
I saw Hillary glance at the others in the rear view mirror questioningly, but, realising that something was obviously up, he said nothing, and the rest of the journey and our paths to our bedrooms were passed in stony silence.