Breaking the Tie
Chapter Seven: Between Friends

With the gun to her head, she didn't dare move, not even to glance around at her attacker.

"If it's money you want," she managed out, "There's a safe down the hall, I can give you the numbers-"

The laugh that followed her terrified stutters held a cool, crisp English accent. "My dear, did you really assume me an imbecile? I've done my homework, and to tell the truth, it was not hard. Your husband is an easy man to chart, and he always goes to the racetrack every Friday night, does he not?"

Isabellé swallowed, determined not to give her assailant the satisfaction of knowing he was right. "You speak too boldly. My husband is often home Friday nights!"

"With you?" The man's voice was all too knowing, and she stiffened as the cold ring of steel marking the presence of the gun pressed more firmly into her head. "Like tonight? Tell me, Isabellé Martilinia, it is a Friday evening, and is your husband here, cuddling you in front of a roaring fire? No," the man's voice grew coldly triumphant, "No, he is at the racetrack, betting on horses fourteen, nineteen, and six. He always bets thirty-nine dollars on each horse, thirty-nine being the sum of the three numbers. They are his lucky numbers and the combination to your safe, correct?"

Isabellé could not hide her surprise. The man laughed again.

"And now, you wonder," the man leaned in close, so his breath was warm on her neck, "Why keep you alive? I know what I need to rob your snobbish, pompous husband of his riches…you have become unneeded. I should kill you."

The harsh click of his gun being cocked made her call out in fear, quietly, too afraid to force a true scream past her constricting throat.

Quite suddenly, the gun went off. Only her attacker had swung it around and pointed it into the ornate sofa next to the trembling woman. The shot was muffled by the thick cushions enough to not arouse the neighbors.

"You may wonder, Isabellé, what else I know about you and your selfish husband." Now his breath was on her breastbone, and she felt his cheek warm against hers. One gloved hand had slipped around her waist and pressed her willowy frame to his strong one. "I can tell you that you dismiss the help each Friday at seven 'o' clock, fifteen minutes after your husband Frances leaves. You like to feel alone, in solitude, until his return between two and two-forty-five in the morning. I also know that when he touches you, your reactions are slow and forced."

"This is not true!" Isabellé spat, mustering all her courage to do so. The hand at her waist now pressed against her stomach, sliding slowly upwards. A tingle inside of her started at the contact point and rushed downwards.

"I know you almost had an affair with your old tile-floor maintenance man. You fired him shortly after you nearly spread your legs for him. I know your fear of Frances' reaction made you stop cold."

Isabellé felt quite strange, and couldn't quite keep focused on what the English voice at her ear was saying. His hand was now brushing the underside of her bosom, and she couldn't quite focus on anything else.

"I know you secretly dread the evenings when a frolicsome mood takes Frances. You hate the way he sweats, and breathes, and-"

"Enough!" Isabellé gasped out, regaining her senses. "I enjoy my marriage with Frances, and I fired Miguel for poor workmanship. You lie!"

"Oh?" His other hand had apparently released the gun, and was drawing her light nightgown up one creamy thigh. "Then why do you quiver as one in the throes of taboo pleasure at my touch?"

She shuddered, before snarling: "Because a common thief is threatening my home and my life! You would tremble too!"

She was abruptly picked up and thrown onto the sofa he had earlier shot into. As she regained her breath, she gasped, staring up into her assailant's face. Cold and beautiful blue eyes pierced her own, coming straight from the depths of a handsome and hard-lined face. Dark hair, originally slicked back, fell into his vision. He was dressed in black, but made no effort to cover his face.

She only gazed a moment before his lips were crushing hers, his hands reaching two different points on her body simultaneously. The combined sensory stimulation of his tongue probing hers and his hands grasping and flexing both areas made precious by her sex overwhelmed her, and she moaned into his mouth.

He broke away, moving to straddle her. "I'll bet Frances never does that." His smirk was a challenge.

"A-All the time." Isabellé tried her best to sound aloof, but her breath came too quickly to make her words believable. "And with better result," she added, to give herself more credibility.

"Then I shall have to prove myself." His gaze was intense, and she tried all she could not to break it. His hands were moving again, ridding her of unnecessary clothing. "Does he tease you?"

"B-Better than this." Isabellé arched into him, her words coming with a throaty groan.

He smiled all the broader, unbuttoning his shirt. "Does he make you wait, knowing your passion only grows as he lingers?"

"I wait impatiently for F-Frances- Oh!- and without fear, as I do y-you."

Isabellé found herself ripping at his shirt, helping him, speeding his nakedness along. His expression of satisfaction drove her all the more wild.

Their lips met in another crushing kiss, his hands ghosting over her sensitive sex, making her writhe. He broke apart to undo his black slacks.

"Does he make you instantly ready? Suddenly wet?" His voice was mocking. He brushed her again, and rubbed his damp fingers on her stomach as proof. "As I seem to be doing?"

"I think of him as you take advantage of m-oh…" Isabellé's weak protests died down as he brushed her again. With another triumphant look, her attacker-turned-lover bent to sample the flavor of her ample-

"Whatchya reading, Seiya?"

"What the hell are you doing in my room, Toshi?-!" Seiya snapped the book shut with a small slap! at her neighbor's voice.

Toshi didn't seem to notice her discomfort as he wandered over to where her guitar sat on its stand. "I rang the doorbell, and your dad answered. He said I could come up."

Mentally cursing her father and his naive trust of the overly-polite boy-next-door, Seiya tried to slip the book under her pillow without Toshi noticing. He was examining her amp settings, and by the time he turned to face her, the book was nicely hidden.

"So? You still haven't answered the big question as to what the fuc-"

"Will you please cut back on the swearing?" Toshi sounded a tad annoyed. "I get it enough from Mom and Father all day without adding on you. Oh yeah, and Hiro has a foul mouth too."

When Toshi mentioned father the heat came rushing to Seiya's cheeks. If Toshi noticed, he gave no sign of it. Inwardly blessing man's lack of perceptivity, Seiya pressed on.

"You still haven't explained why you decided to come over here."

Toshi shrugged, and sank down onto her bed next to her. "I guess- well I guess I came for some advice."

"On WHAT?" Seiya couldn't help the incredulity creeping into her voice.

"Well…" Toshi looked down, his own cheeks and neck flaming. "I…I wanna ask…"

"...Keyara on a date?" Seiya supplied disdainfully. "Why?"

"Keyara bashing is set at low to none, remember?" Toshi countered. "Why, you ask? Because I like her, and I want to, you know, do it right."

"Do what right now-?"

"Oh, shush!" Toshi stopped Seiya's mischievous question with a soft swat to the back of the head. "How do I ask a girl out without it blowing up in my face?"

"Fine." Seiya groaned. "Well, what's your idea for a date?"

"I don't know. Fancy dinner?"

"For a sixteen year old?"

"Too much?" Toshi guessed.

"Yep." Seiya nodded. "How about a karaoke place? Or better, a movie. Unless you wanna talk. Then, lunch. After a rehearsal or something."

"Okay, I like it." Toshi rubbed his hands together, then stopped, looking pained again. "But…how do I ask her?"

"What wrong with, 'Hey, Princess, let's do lunch?'" Seiya snapped.

"Let me count the ways," Toshi fired back. "C'mon, Seiya, you're a girl, you should be good at this stuff."

"Good at asking out other girls?" Seiya laughed. "I think not, lover boy."

"Please?" The pleading tone of Toshi voice made Seiya look sharply at his face. His golden eyes looked desperate, and after a few seconds of staring, Seiya sighed.

"Fine." Seiya shifted noisily to face him. "Just look at her, and let you know you're honest about your feelings. It's okay to be shy, but overboard is not an option. Just…. I dunno, be your usual dopey self and you've got a chance."

Toshi nodded, and looked away for a moment. He turned back to face his irate neighbor. "Can I practice?"

Seiya snorted. "On me? Stop messin' with me, Tosh."

"Seiya…"

"You can't be serious."

"Please?" Toshi begged. "Then you can tell me if I'm doing it wrong!"

"This is wrong! Weird, messed up, and wrong!"

"Seiya-!"

"FINE!" Seiya bellowed. "Just, only once, okay? This will scar me for a very long time as it is!"

"Thanks!" Toshi beamed at her, before settling down. "Okay, here goes."

Seiya wasn't expecting him to take her hands, or to look deep into her eyes as if trying to scrutinize her soul. It was very uncomfortable, and her discomfort wasn't at all alleviated as he began to speak.

"Listen, I'd really like to go out for lunch. Just you and me. Maybe we can talk; I'd like to get to know you more." Toshi gave a half-smile, looking shy and brave and adorable all at once. "What do you think, Keyara?"

At the sound of the synth player's name Seiya pulled away from his grip roughly. "Yeah, that'll do it. She'll fall for that sincere thing, all right."

"Really?" Toshi seemed to have snapped out of his reverie. "Just to be safe, could we do it one more-Oof!"

Seiya seized her pillow and smacked him across the face with it. "GET OUT BEFORE I BARF, ROMEO!"

Toshi caught hold of the pillow and yanked it out of her grasp. She fought to get it back, laughing with him, until he caught sight of the now completely exposed book that had previously rested innocently beneath the pillow.

"Um…" Seiya stared at it helplessly. "I…"

Toshi turned to her, a grin on his face. "I never knew you were a fan of Father's books."

"It's a recent thing- I mean, a friend said I oughta read it." Seiya mumbled. "I'm not sure I like it…I dunno…."

"I won't tell." Toshi's grin was from ear to ear. "Thanks, Seiya." He turned and disappeared out her door and down the hall.

"Whatever." Seiya murmured to the empty room. "Anytime."

End Chapter

Authoress here.

Okay, so I got a little caught up in the whole romance novel by Eiri Yuki thing, and this chapter was long without really saying much. Next chappie will be a lot faster, I promise. Thanks to all my splendiferous readers and reviewers, and mostly my reviewers, because with feedback, I improve! I see I get many hits, though, and that makes me happy and giddy inside and I jump around for awhile.

Because I decided to not do Authoress Notes at the beginning, let me do them here. I was at our county fair all week, showing muh pony-boy and some other stuff for 4H, and yesterday my two drill teams performed. I've gotten some blues, one red (stupid stupid egg and spoon competition…take your feet from the stirrups and switch hands? Who does that successfully!) And a few purple awards…..and a lot of aching muscles. And a plot bunny, who seems to be the spawn of JewelValentine's plot bunny. His name is Davis.

By now, I'm sure you've been wondering why I ramble. Well, it's fun. And I'm done.