The Sly Cat
--Chapter One
:|Tennyo
Serena Huntington sat behind the mahogany desk in her office. It was located
in the back of the second floor of her club, The Sly Cat. Her dance club was very
popular amongst the club raving crowd and was often packed, even on weeknights.
Her feet were perched atop her desk, shaking restlessly as she flipped
through pages and pages of legal mumbo jumbo. Serena read the same line she had
been reading for the past twenty minutes.
Screw this, she thought. Serena tossed the file onto her desk, along with the
other papers that she had been looking at the entire morning. She sighed at the bills
that needed to be paid. Running a club wasn't cheap.
Business wouldn't pick up for a few more hours. The customers that came at
this hour were loners who had no place else to go and barely any money to spend.
Whatever money they managed to get a hold of was spent recklessly on booze and
cigarettes. It was sad that she was making money off of them, but it wasn't like she
was forcing them to drink their lives away. Besides, business is business.
She drummed her fingernails against the desk. It was a familiar gesture that
she found herself doing when she needed something, but what?
It had been bothering her all day. Something she should be doing, but she
just couldn't figure it out. Serena sighed impatiently and abruptly stood up from her
leather chair. She marched towards the door, determined to walk off her
restlessness.
Just as she reached for the doorknob, it turned and opened so quickly that
she didn't have time to react. Before she knew it, the door slammed into her nose.
"Shit!" she cursed while hurriedly crawling away before it could happen again.
Darien's eyes bulged when he saw what he had done. He had been in a rush
to tell her that the inspectors were here. They performed random checkups to make
sure everything was running up to par.
He rushed to Serena, who was lying on the floor on her side with her eyes
shut and her hand caressing her nose, and inspected her nose.
"It doesn't look too bad."
Serena opened her tear-stained eyes and glared at him. "Want me to shove a
door in your face so you can find out?" she threatened through her nasal congested
voice.
Being that she was lying on the floor in pain and talking like Droopy, she
wasn't very intimidating. Besides, at 5' 4" with her blond hair and eyes the color of a
clear spring sky, she looked downright dainty. It was all right though; she liked
giving people that impression.
Darien ignored her and felt her nose for signs of broken cartilage.
"You'll be alright. It'll be swollen for a couple of days, but that's it," he said,
"Nothing's broken."
Serena sat up and wiped her eyes. It always tears up whenever something
hits her nose. She remembered the other incident when some shit-head slipped and
ended up passing the basketball to her face. Justice was served, however, when she
repaid him by giving him a black eye.
She smiled crookedly, "You better hope so, you numb-nut."
Darien offered a hand to help her stand, but she ignored it and got up herself.
She was still a little bit shaky, but she managed.
"Okay, now what is so damn urgent that you needed to barge in here like a
mad cow?"
"The inspectors are here."
"Ugh. That's already twice this year," she said, "Just because the club's
pumpin' every night doesn't mean we're out dealing drugs."
"Yeah, well. They never know now, do they?"
Serena rolled her eyes in exasperation and grabbed some tissue from her
desk.
"Well, come on," she said as she walked in a confident stride towards the
door, "Don't wanna keep the lovely inspectors waiting."
`---+
"I'm surprised," said Darien, "You were very courteous to the nice inspector
people."
Serena shrugged indifferently and walked towards her desk, "It's always good
to be polite to our government."
Darien raised his eyebrow but didn't say anything. Not that he was
complaining, but Serena hated the government and didn't want anything to do with
it. If she had it her way, she wouldn't pay taxes. But then, the IRS agents would be
pounding on her door.
Aw, what the heck. He had to bite. "What's wrong, Serena?"
Serena turned around in a flourish, bedazzling Darien with her brilliant smile.
Darien frowned. "Cut that out."
Her smile grew wider, "Cut what out?"
"The charm-," he eyed her suspiciously, "What did you do?"
"Me?" her eyes widened, "I didn't do anything."
Darien crossed his arms stubbornly and leaned his back against the door. "I'm
not leaving until you tell me what's going on."
She began to walk slowly towards him, dragging out her every step, making
sure his eyes were focused on the seductive sway of her hips, the inviting look in her
eyes. It was hard to be sexy in a business suit, but she managed.
Darien felt his mouth go dry and his pulse speed up.
'Damn!' he thought, 'she's doing it again!'
He forced his eyes to look up, but the view wasn't any better on his nerves.
Nerves of steel he did not have.
His attention narrowed in on the sensual curve of her lips and the heated
gaze in her eyes. It was a gaze that promised oh so much- if only he would allow it!
The nose wasn't even much of a distraction, even though it was beginning to swell.
A blast of memory hit him.
Urgent hands. Rapid breathing. Sweating bodies.
Darien slammed his fist into the door and looked up towards the ceiling,
searching for any kind of help that would smother the flame growing in his belly.
"Dammit, Serena!" he yelled, "Don't do this!"
"Do what?" she said innocently.
Her eyes gave her away though; it showed uninhibited desire and other
thoughts. Thoughts only a lover would know.
She was deeply amused, however, at his desperate fight for control. It
satisfied her to no end when she saw Darien fight temptation. It was even more
pleasing when he fought and failed.
"Great," he said, "Fucking great. So you're laughing at me now too, huh?"
"No," she cooed, "I would never do that."
She slowly closed her eyes and gave him the best view of her long eyelashes,
knowing full well that it drove Darien crazy. She put her hand on his chest and
leaned into him, inch by inch until their lips were so, incredibly close. A deep breath
could close that small, insignificant amount of space.
Darien had stopped breathing. His hands were behind him, pressing into his
back, as if he was afraid what he would do with them.
'No,' he thought, 'I won't give in to her again.'
He tilted his chin up, tightened his lips, and took a deep breath that calmed
him to the center of his being.
And the desire was gone.
Darien wasn't foolish enough to believe it had completely left him. God no,
only an ice cold shower could cool that. It was shoved away for now, and that was
the best he could do. He looked down with empty cobalt eyes, and saw her anger.
She wasn't going to get what she wanted.
Darien smiled cockily and played with a tendril of blond hair that had fallen
over her eyes, just the way he liked it.
"Your hair looks better like this."
Serena snorted and got off Darien in one smooth, fluid motion. She walked
towards her desk and plopped down on her swinging leather chair. She started
twirling it around and playing with her nails at the same time.
"Of course it does," she said casually, "I was born with it."
Darien snorted, "Yeah, right."
Serena stopped and raised her eyebrows in surprise. "You don't believe me?"
Darien pushed himself off the door and lied on the black leather couch that
was against the wall to the right of the door.
"There is no such thing as a true blonde," he stated.
"I can't believe it," she said incredulously, "We've known each other for what-
twenty five years? And you don't know that I'm a true blonde?"
"Twenty six years," he stated, "You came to the orphanage when you were
two."
"So you think I've been dying my hair blonde since I was two years old."
Her remark was met by silence. See, men are dumber than women after all.
No scientific research needed; the evidence was right there in front of her eyes.
"Okay…" he finally admitted, "So I was wrong. How'd you get all that hair to
go red anyways?"
"Not red," she corrected, "auburn. And temporary hair dye. Washes right
out."
"Really? I should get me one of those. I was thinking of dying my hair blue,
just to see how it would look."
Serena snickered. "You would look ridiculous."
"Humph, just like how you looked with that aww-buhn hair?" he mocked.
"I looked fine in that hair."
"Suuree, whatever you say Serena."
"Besides, the black hair suits you. Your eyebrows and eyelashes wouldn't
match the rest of your hair anyway."
"Yeah… how'd you do that?"
"Fake eyelashes and eyebrow pencil."
"Wow."
"Yeah. The wonders of modern makeup."
For a while, the two just sat there in complete silence, listening to the steady
humming of the air conditioner. Serena was slumped in her chair, in a most
unladylike position, and nibbling on her thumb. Darien was relaxed on the sofa with
his hands tucked behind his head, staring blankly at the ceiling.
It was Darien who broke the silence first.
"So how'd it go?"
Serena's jaw barely moved. "How'd what go?" she muttered.
He sighed exasperatedly and turned on his side to face Serena with his head
resting on his palm.
"Stop answering all my questions with a question!" he yelled, "And for God's
sake! Stop biting your nails!"
Serena had to move up a little to see him above the desk and glare at him.
"I'm not!" she exclaimed, "I'm gnawing on the skin on the tip of my thumb."
She raised her hand with her thumb up and pointed with the other hand at
the teeth marks that were on the tip of her thumb, where skin met nail.
"Seeee!"
"Ugh," he rubbed his hand down his face, "You're sick."
Serena just managed to shrug.
"Anyway," he said, "Stop evading the question. How did things go with
Wilmington?"
"Fine," she said simply, "Everything went according to plan."
"Yeah, right. You were running outta there like the devil was chasing your
tail," he said, "What happened?"
Serena sat up and laid her head on top of the desk. "Ok, things got a little
rough."
"Rough? What do you mean rough?"
"Who's asking who questions now?"
"Just answer the damn question."
"I slapped him."
Darien sat up so quickly the leather couch made a squeaky noise. "You what!"
"I slapped him."
"Yes, I heard you the first time!" he exclaimed, "What for?"
"He was being an asshole."
"And so… that's cause for you to slap a complete stranger?"
"He offended my mother."
Darien lifted his hands up in wonderment. "What mother!" he said, "You don't
have a mother!"
"Yes I do!" she said defensively, "I have one… somewhere!"
"Whatever," he said, "Anyway, go on."
"Well, she called Kate Drexel's mother a whore," she said, "And if I were
some girl whose absent father was an asshole, which I am by the way, I would slap
him too."
Darien nodded. "Ok, fine. You got into the role a little bit too much," he said,
"But try not to do it next time okay?"
Serena shrugged. "Okay."
"I mean it Serena. Anything could've happened that could've jeopardized the
mission."
Serena sat up and her bored look was replaced by cold calculation. "No," she
stated, "It wouldn't."
Darien saw the change in her and felt his eyes grow cold in response. "How
can you be so sure?"
"Because I know exactly what I'm doing."
"Come on, Serena," he said, "People make mistakes."
"Well," she said, "I don't."
"Whatever, yo," he said, "What's up with you today anyway? One minute
you're Ms. Angelic Eyes and the next minute you're Ms. Frigid Bitch."
Serena shrugged. "PMS I guess."
"Yeah, sure. Blame it on your monthly friend."
Serena let out a shrilled laughter that startled Darien to the bone. "Ha!
Monthly friend my ass," she snorted, "More like persistent enemy."
Darien eyed her narrowly. Something was seriously wrong with her, but he
couldn't figure out what it was. Maybe it was PMS, but he doubted it. She wasn't
usually like this. Something had happened while he was busy breaking into the safe
at the Wilmington mansion.
He frowned and inspected Serena's expression. It was carefully empty, the
face she used when she was trying real hard to tuck her emotions beneath the
surface. It was a skill that both had learned at the orphanage, when one to many
rejections bit at their hope.
Darien sighed; he had to let it go. Serena was stubborn when she wanted to
be. His only comfort was the knowledge that she would eventually tell him in her
own time.
Serena saw Darien scrutinizing her, but she didn't care. He would never
understand. This was the only thing between them that they didn't share, the only
thing that kept them apart.
'Whatever,' she thought, 'I had enough of this shit for one day.'
"Did you set up the meeting with Kate Drexel?" she blurted.
Darien narrowed his eyes. "Yeah, of course I did," he said defensively, "What.
You think I forgot to do it?"
"No," she reassured, "Just making sure everything's zipped up tight."
"Yeah, yeah," he said while lying back onto the couch.
"Did you have trouble breaking in?"
"No, no," he reassured her, "It was like the maid said, the safe behind the
telltale painting was outdated."
"Where'd you put the stuff?"
Darien grew irritated. He hated it when she second-guessed what he did, like
she didn't completely trust him to do it correctly. Then again, she had reason to.
"Where we always put it."
Serena sighed and got up. She moved one of the chairs that was in front of
her desk and placed it next to the lovely aloe vera plant she had been taking care of
since she got this place three years ago. It required a minimal amount of watering.
And best of all, it could be used for healing cuts and burns. A thing she found herself
needing quite often.
She got on top of the chair, lifted the ceiling panel and pushed it to the side of
the vent. Then, she bent her hand so that her palms were facing in her direction.
She pushed against a metal box with her fingertips, and it easily slid out of the
enclosure. It was there to hold the box against the front side of the vent, where
people were least likely to look.
The things she learned as a child were handier in adulthood than most people
would think. Being an orphan had taught her elaborate ways of hiding things she
didn't want others to find. It had helped her pass time as a child, but now it was a
skill that she found even more useful as an adult.
Serena slid the panel back into place and sat down on the chair. She opened
the metal box with the key that she kept in the soil of her aloe vera plant.
It was nice how everything was overly complicated, yet simple if you knew
what you were looking for.
The metal box was about the size of a fanny bag. Serena had covered it with
padding so there wouldn't be too much noise when other things besides money or
savings bonds were in there.
She emptied the contents onto her lap and began to count.
After a few minutes of counting and recounting, Serena stood up so fast that
she knocked the chair down and everything on her lap fell onto the floor with a
clang.
"Darien," she said as calmly as she possibly could, "Not everything's here."
Serena stared pointedly at him, and if looks could kill, he'd be burning in his
grave right now.
He refused to meet her gaze, pretending he hadn't heard.
"Darien," she said, "Where is the rest of it?" Her voice was like an adult
scolding a child for getting the new carpet dirty by running all over it with mud.
Darien had the urge to squirm, but he refused to give her the pleasure. What
happened earlier was enough show to prove that he didn't have enough control when
it came to Serena.
"Darien," she said again, "I'm going to ask this one more time." It took more
effort than she cared to admit to contain her anger.
"Where is the rest of the money?"
Darien sighed. He couldn't evade her forever. It was either die now or die
later. He preferred later, but it looked like it would be now.
"I didn't take it."
"Why?" she said calmly. Such calm was not a good sign. It meant that she
was beyond rage and any attempt at intellectual reasoning would be dismissed as a
pitiful excuse.
Darien shrugged, hoping to delay the inevitable for as long as he could. He
felt guilty and blameless at the same time. Serena was responsible for the former,
but his conscience was proud of the latter.
"DARIEN!" she screamed, allowing the fury to consume her. "WHY!"
And to think, such a simple question would have a simple answer. Alas, the
world was never really that fair. He stood up and ran his fingers through his hair.
"I don't know, okay! Stop yelling at me!"
Serena marched up to him and punched him straight across his high-sculpted
cheeks. She side swept him with her foot and straddled him on the floor before he
had anytime to take a breath. She grabbed the collar of his midnight blue dress shirt
and pulled on his neck until they were face to face.
"You are NOT leaving this room until you tell me exactly why you didn't take
all of it," she scathed.
Darien was shocked. He hadn't known Serena would be able to disable him so
quickly. Of course, he knew she was more capable than most people gave her credit
for, but it still surprised him.
The story he had concocted was in the far planes of his oh-so-brilliant mind.
For the life of him, and it very well might lead to that, he could not remember the
perfect excuse he had spent so many hours brewing.
With Serena on top of him like that, he was only reminded of the things they
could be doing that didn't include yelling in each other's faces. Not the way Serena
was doing it now, at least.
Darien chuckled to himself. He was such a dumbass. Serena looked ready to
wring his neck and all he was thinking about was how good it felt with her on top of
him, the heat of her pulsating above him.
Serena glared at him and knew what he was thinking about.
Darien Renfield was getting extremely careless. Carelessness could get you
killed.
She shook her head and sighed. She got off of him and offered a hand to help
him up. Mimicking what she had done earlier, he stood up without her help and
dusted himself off.
Serena looked at him and knew he had gotten a little bit too excited. It was
all right though, for she had found the perfect moment. She helped him smooth out
the wrinkles that she had made on the iron pressed dress shirt that she had bought
for him and smiled sweetly.
Then, she knocked his lights out.
---
Tada!~ What a perfect place to end neh?
Feedback por favor! ;]
Tennyo012@yahoo.com
--Chapter One
:|Tennyo
Serena Huntington sat behind the mahogany desk in her office. It was located
in the back of the second floor of her club, The Sly Cat. Her dance club was very
popular amongst the club raving crowd and was often packed, even on weeknights.
Her feet were perched atop her desk, shaking restlessly as she flipped
through pages and pages of legal mumbo jumbo. Serena read the same line she had
been reading for the past twenty minutes.
Screw this, she thought. Serena tossed the file onto her desk, along with the
other papers that she had been looking at the entire morning. She sighed at the bills
that needed to be paid. Running a club wasn't cheap.
Business wouldn't pick up for a few more hours. The customers that came at
this hour were loners who had no place else to go and barely any money to spend.
Whatever money they managed to get a hold of was spent recklessly on booze and
cigarettes. It was sad that she was making money off of them, but it wasn't like she
was forcing them to drink their lives away. Besides, business is business.
She drummed her fingernails against the desk. It was a familiar gesture that
she found herself doing when she needed something, but what?
It had been bothering her all day. Something she should be doing, but she
just couldn't figure it out. Serena sighed impatiently and abruptly stood up from her
leather chair. She marched towards the door, determined to walk off her
restlessness.
Just as she reached for the doorknob, it turned and opened so quickly that
she didn't have time to react. Before she knew it, the door slammed into her nose.
"Shit!" she cursed while hurriedly crawling away before it could happen again.
Darien's eyes bulged when he saw what he had done. He had been in a rush
to tell her that the inspectors were here. They performed random checkups to make
sure everything was running up to par.
He rushed to Serena, who was lying on the floor on her side with her eyes
shut and her hand caressing her nose, and inspected her nose.
"It doesn't look too bad."
Serena opened her tear-stained eyes and glared at him. "Want me to shove a
door in your face so you can find out?" she threatened through her nasal congested
voice.
Being that she was lying on the floor in pain and talking like Droopy, she
wasn't very intimidating. Besides, at 5' 4" with her blond hair and eyes the color of a
clear spring sky, she looked downright dainty. It was all right though; she liked
giving people that impression.
Darien ignored her and felt her nose for signs of broken cartilage.
"You'll be alright. It'll be swollen for a couple of days, but that's it," he said,
"Nothing's broken."
Serena sat up and wiped her eyes. It always tears up whenever something
hits her nose. She remembered the other incident when some shit-head slipped and
ended up passing the basketball to her face. Justice was served, however, when she
repaid him by giving him a black eye.
She smiled crookedly, "You better hope so, you numb-nut."
Darien offered a hand to help her stand, but she ignored it and got up herself.
She was still a little bit shaky, but she managed.
"Okay, now what is so damn urgent that you needed to barge in here like a
mad cow?"
"The inspectors are here."
"Ugh. That's already twice this year," she said, "Just because the club's
pumpin' every night doesn't mean we're out dealing drugs."
"Yeah, well. They never know now, do they?"
Serena rolled her eyes in exasperation and grabbed some tissue from her
desk.
"Well, come on," she said as she walked in a confident stride towards the
door, "Don't wanna keep the lovely inspectors waiting."
`---+
"I'm surprised," said Darien, "You were very courteous to the nice inspector
people."
Serena shrugged indifferently and walked towards her desk, "It's always good
to be polite to our government."
Darien raised his eyebrow but didn't say anything. Not that he was
complaining, but Serena hated the government and didn't want anything to do with
it. If she had it her way, she wouldn't pay taxes. But then, the IRS agents would be
pounding on her door.
Aw, what the heck. He had to bite. "What's wrong, Serena?"
Serena turned around in a flourish, bedazzling Darien with her brilliant smile.
Darien frowned. "Cut that out."
Her smile grew wider, "Cut what out?"
"The charm-," he eyed her suspiciously, "What did you do?"
"Me?" her eyes widened, "I didn't do anything."
Darien crossed his arms stubbornly and leaned his back against the door. "I'm
not leaving until you tell me what's going on."
She began to walk slowly towards him, dragging out her every step, making
sure his eyes were focused on the seductive sway of her hips, the inviting look in her
eyes. It was hard to be sexy in a business suit, but she managed.
Darien felt his mouth go dry and his pulse speed up.
'Damn!' he thought, 'she's doing it again!'
He forced his eyes to look up, but the view wasn't any better on his nerves.
Nerves of steel he did not have.
His attention narrowed in on the sensual curve of her lips and the heated
gaze in her eyes. It was a gaze that promised oh so much- if only he would allow it!
The nose wasn't even much of a distraction, even though it was beginning to swell.
A blast of memory hit him.
Urgent hands. Rapid breathing. Sweating bodies.
Darien slammed his fist into the door and looked up towards the ceiling,
searching for any kind of help that would smother the flame growing in his belly.
"Dammit, Serena!" he yelled, "Don't do this!"
"Do what?" she said innocently.
Her eyes gave her away though; it showed uninhibited desire and other
thoughts. Thoughts only a lover would know.
She was deeply amused, however, at his desperate fight for control. It
satisfied her to no end when she saw Darien fight temptation. It was even more
pleasing when he fought and failed.
"Great," he said, "Fucking great. So you're laughing at me now too, huh?"
"No," she cooed, "I would never do that."
She slowly closed her eyes and gave him the best view of her long eyelashes,
knowing full well that it drove Darien crazy. She put her hand on his chest and
leaned into him, inch by inch until their lips were so, incredibly close. A deep breath
could close that small, insignificant amount of space.
Darien had stopped breathing. His hands were behind him, pressing into his
back, as if he was afraid what he would do with them.
'No,' he thought, 'I won't give in to her again.'
He tilted his chin up, tightened his lips, and took a deep breath that calmed
him to the center of his being.
And the desire was gone.
Darien wasn't foolish enough to believe it had completely left him. God no,
only an ice cold shower could cool that. It was shoved away for now, and that was
the best he could do. He looked down with empty cobalt eyes, and saw her anger.
She wasn't going to get what she wanted.
Darien smiled cockily and played with a tendril of blond hair that had fallen
over her eyes, just the way he liked it.
"Your hair looks better like this."
Serena snorted and got off Darien in one smooth, fluid motion. She walked
towards her desk and plopped down on her swinging leather chair. She started
twirling it around and playing with her nails at the same time.
"Of course it does," she said casually, "I was born with it."
Darien snorted, "Yeah, right."
Serena stopped and raised her eyebrows in surprise. "You don't believe me?"
Darien pushed himself off the door and lied on the black leather couch that
was against the wall to the right of the door.
"There is no such thing as a true blonde," he stated.
"I can't believe it," she said incredulously, "We've known each other for what-
twenty five years? And you don't know that I'm a true blonde?"
"Twenty six years," he stated, "You came to the orphanage when you were
two."
"So you think I've been dying my hair blonde since I was two years old."
Her remark was met by silence. See, men are dumber than women after all.
No scientific research needed; the evidence was right there in front of her eyes.
"Okay…" he finally admitted, "So I was wrong. How'd you get all that hair to
go red anyways?"
"Not red," she corrected, "auburn. And temporary hair dye. Washes right
out."
"Really? I should get me one of those. I was thinking of dying my hair blue,
just to see how it would look."
Serena snickered. "You would look ridiculous."
"Humph, just like how you looked with that aww-buhn hair?" he mocked.
"I looked fine in that hair."
"Suuree, whatever you say Serena."
"Besides, the black hair suits you. Your eyebrows and eyelashes wouldn't
match the rest of your hair anyway."
"Yeah… how'd you do that?"
"Fake eyelashes and eyebrow pencil."
"Wow."
"Yeah. The wonders of modern makeup."
For a while, the two just sat there in complete silence, listening to the steady
humming of the air conditioner. Serena was slumped in her chair, in a most
unladylike position, and nibbling on her thumb. Darien was relaxed on the sofa with
his hands tucked behind his head, staring blankly at the ceiling.
It was Darien who broke the silence first.
"So how'd it go?"
Serena's jaw barely moved. "How'd what go?" she muttered.
He sighed exasperatedly and turned on his side to face Serena with his head
resting on his palm.
"Stop answering all my questions with a question!" he yelled, "And for God's
sake! Stop biting your nails!"
Serena had to move up a little to see him above the desk and glare at him.
"I'm not!" she exclaimed, "I'm gnawing on the skin on the tip of my thumb."
She raised her hand with her thumb up and pointed with the other hand at
the teeth marks that were on the tip of her thumb, where skin met nail.
"Seeee!"
"Ugh," he rubbed his hand down his face, "You're sick."
Serena just managed to shrug.
"Anyway," he said, "Stop evading the question. How did things go with
Wilmington?"
"Fine," she said simply, "Everything went according to plan."
"Yeah, right. You were running outta there like the devil was chasing your
tail," he said, "What happened?"
Serena sat up and laid her head on top of the desk. "Ok, things got a little
rough."
"Rough? What do you mean rough?"
"Who's asking who questions now?"
"Just answer the damn question."
"I slapped him."
Darien sat up so quickly the leather couch made a squeaky noise. "You what!"
"I slapped him."
"Yes, I heard you the first time!" he exclaimed, "What for?"
"He was being an asshole."
"And so… that's cause for you to slap a complete stranger?"
"He offended my mother."
Darien lifted his hands up in wonderment. "What mother!" he said, "You don't
have a mother!"
"Yes I do!" she said defensively, "I have one… somewhere!"
"Whatever," he said, "Anyway, go on."
"Well, she called Kate Drexel's mother a whore," she said, "And if I were
some girl whose absent father was an asshole, which I am by the way, I would slap
him too."
Darien nodded. "Ok, fine. You got into the role a little bit too much," he said,
"But try not to do it next time okay?"
Serena shrugged. "Okay."
"I mean it Serena. Anything could've happened that could've jeopardized the
mission."
Serena sat up and her bored look was replaced by cold calculation. "No," she
stated, "It wouldn't."
Darien saw the change in her and felt his eyes grow cold in response. "How
can you be so sure?"
"Because I know exactly what I'm doing."
"Come on, Serena," he said, "People make mistakes."
"Well," she said, "I don't."
"Whatever, yo," he said, "What's up with you today anyway? One minute
you're Ms. Angelic Eyes and the next minute you're Ms. Frigid Bitch."
Serena shrugged. "PMS I guess."
"Yeah, sure. Blame it on your monthly friend."
Serena let out a shrilled laughter that startled Darien to the bone. "Ha!
Monthly friend my ass," she snorted, "More like persistent enemy."
Darien eyed her narrowly. Something was seriously wrong with her, but he
couldn't figure out what it was. Maybe it was PMS, but he doubted it. She wasn't
usually like this. Something had happened while he was busy breaking into the safe
at the Wilmington mansion.
He frowned and inspected Serena's expression. It was carefully empty, the
face she used when she was trying real hard to tuck her emotions beneath the
surface. It was a skill that both had learned at the orphanage, when one to many
rejections bit at their hope.
Darien sighed; he had to let it go. Serena was stubborn when she wanted to
be. His only comfort was the knowledge that she would eventually tell him in her
own time.
Serena saw Darien scrutinizing her, but she didn't care. He would never
understand. This was the only thing between them that they didn't share, the only
thing that kept them apart.
'Whatever,' she thought, 'I had enough of this shit for one day.'
"Did you set up the meeting with Kate Drexel?" she blurted.
Darien narrowed his eyes. "Yeah, of course I did," he said defensively, "What.
You think I forgot to do it?"
"No," she reassured, "Just making sure everything's zipped up tight."
"Yeah, yeah," he said while lying back onto the couch.
"Did you have trouble breaking in?"
"No, no," he reassured her, "It was like the maid said, the safe behind the
telltale painting was outdated."
"Where'd you put the stuff?"
Darien grew irritated. He hated it when she second-guessed what he did, like
she didn't completely trust him to do it correctly. Then again, she had reason to.
"Where we always put it."
Serena sighed and got up. She moved one of the chairs that was in front of
her desk and placed it next to the lovely aloe vera plant she had been taking care of
since she got this place three years ago. It required a minimal amount of watering.
And best of all, it could be used for healing cuts and burns. A thing she found herself
needing quite often.
She got on top of the chair, lifted the ceiling panel and pushed it to the side of
the vent. Then, she bent her hand so that her palms were facing in her direction.
She pushed against a metal box with her fingertips, and it easily slid out of the
enclosure. It was there to hold the box against the front side of the vent, where
people were least likely to look.
The things she learned as a child were handier in adulthood than most people
would think. Being an orphan had taught her elaborate ways of hiding things she
didn't want others to find. It had helped her pass time as a child, but now it was a
skill that she found even more useful as an adult.
Serena slid the panel back into place and sat down on the chair. She opened
the metal box with the key that she kept in the soil of her aloe vera plant.
It was nice how everything was overly complicated, yet simple if you knew
what you were looking for.
The metal box was about the size of a fanny bag. Serena had covered it with
padding so there wouldn't be too much noise when other things besides money or
savings bonds were in there.
She emptied the contents onto her lap and began to count.
After a few minutes of counting and recounting, Serena stood up so fast that
she knocked the chair down and everything on her lap fell onto the floor with a
clang.
"Darien," she said as calmly as she possibly could, "Not everything's here."
Serena stared pointedly at him, and if looks could kill, he'd be burning in his
grave right now.
He refused to meet her gaze, pretending he hadn't heard.
"Darien," she said, "Where is the rest of it?" Her voice was like an adult
scolding a child for getting the new carpet dirty by running all over it with mud.
Darien had the urge to squirm, but he refused to give her the pleasure. What
happened earlier was enough show to prove that he didn't have enough control when
it came to Serena.
"Darien," she said again, "I'm going to ask this one more time." It took more
effort than she cared to admit to contain her anger.
"Where is the rest of the money?"
Darien sighed. He couldn't evade her forever. It was either die now or die
later. He preferred later, but it looked like it would be now.
"I didn't take it."
"Why?" she said calmly. Such calm was not a good sign. It meant that she
was beyond rage and any attempt at intellectual reasoning would be dismissed as a
pitiful excuse.
Darien shrugged, hoping to delay the inevitable for as long as he could. He
felt guilty and blameless at the same time. Serena was responsible for the former,
but his conscience was proud of the latter.
"DARIEN!" she screamed, allowing the fury to consume her. "WHY!"
And to think, such a simple question would have a simple answer. Alas, the
world was never really that fair. He stood up and ran his fingers through his hair.
"I don't know, okay! Stop yelling at me!"
Serena marched up to him and punched him straight across his high-sculpted
cheeks. She side swept him with her foot and straddled him on the floor before he
had anytime to take a breath. She grabbed the collar of his midnight blue dress shirt
and pulled on his neck until they were face to face.
"You are NOT leaving this room until you tell me exactly why you didn't take
all of it," she scathed.
Darien was shocked. He hadn't known Serena would be able to disable him so
quickly. Of course, he knew she was more capable than most people gave her credit
for, but it still surprised him.
The story he had concocted was in the far planes of his oh-so-brilliant mind.
For the life of him, and it very well might lead to that, he could not remember the
perfect excuse he had spent so many hours brewing.
With Serena on top of him like that, he was only reminded of the things they
could be doing that didn't include yelling in each other's faces. Not the way Serena
was doing it now, at least.
Darien chuckled to himself. He was such a dumbass. Serena looked ready to
wring his neck and all he was thinking about was how good it felt with her on top of
him, the heat of her pulsating above him.
Serena glared at him and knew what he was thinking about.
Darien Renfield was getting extremely careless. Carelessness could get you
killed.
She shook her head and sighed. She got off of him and offered a hand to help
him up. Mimicking what she had done earlier, he stood up without her help and
dusted himself off.
Serena looked at him and knew he had gotten a little bit too excited. It was
all right though, for she had found the perfect moment. She helped him smooth out
the wrinkles that she had made on the iron pressed dress shirt that she had bought
for him and smiled sweetly.
Then, she knocked his lights out.
---
Tada!~ What a perfect place to end neh?
Feedback por favor! ;]
Tennyo012@yahoo.com