"Picked Up" (yep. there's implications of sex. deal with it. but guess what? its not Jack, this time. well, slightly. but, well, just read it.)

So, they were last making out. But they made a mistake. They left the door open a bit. So say, if...Bobby, walking into the bathroom, saw a hooded figure has Alex up against the wall, um, kinda sexually, um, yeah, controversy. Of course, he thought Jack was downstairs, asleep, so how would he know better? Bobby charges into Jack's room, pulls the hooded figure away from her, and punches him not even seeing his face.

"YOU don't touch her!" He yells, still punching, in the face AND abdomen.

"Ah!" Jack yelled, and Bobby beat the guy a little more.

"Bobby, DON'T!" Alex yelled.

"WHY NOT?"

"BOBBY!" She yelled, as Bobby threw the guy out into the hall, where Angel came out.

"The HELL, Bobby!"

"This guy jumped her!"

"Asshole!" And Angel kicked Jack.

"Angel, stop!" Alex yelled.

"WHY?"

"CUZ HE'S YOUR BROTHER!"

That stopped him.

"What?" He stopped, kneeled down, and pulled off the guy's hood. Jack was curled up on the ground, wincing in pain.

"Oh my God, Jack." Alexis said, ran to him, and dropped to her knees next to him.

Bobby and Angel's faces were in pure shock and confusion.

"Oh my God, wait, why were you here? Are you sleeping with her?"

"Bobby..." Alex said.

Bobby then spotted the small package on Jack's bed next to him.

"Oh my God! You are! THIS is why you left? My God. I can't BELIEVE this! What were you thinking!"

"BOBBY!" She yelled. "Shut the fuck up, and I'll explain."

"EXPLAIN?"

"YES! I like Jack, ok? A lot. And we're free to do whatever we like, we're adults."

"YOU'RE A KID!"

"I'M NINETEEN! I can smoke, if I want, vote, if I want, and I CAN have sex, if I feel I want to."

"Oh my God, oh my God." Bobby said, walking downstairs.

"Where are you going?" Angel asked him.

"I gotta get outta this house."

"Bobby.." Alex said, longing for the feeling of comfort he had always provided for her. But he had already left, slammed the door, shutting her off. Her 'big brother', the first and only person she could ever trust, and he couldn't even stand to look at her right now. But she helped Angel tend to Jack, afterwards, and kept apologizing.

"Oh my God, Jack. Oh my God. I'm soo sorry. This is my fault, you're always getting hurt cuzza me."

"Yeah, I know. Being your boyfriend, it's not an easy task, is it? But not a problem, I'll live. My ribs hurt like a son of a bitch right now, and my face is probably all banged up, but I can't really blame anyone for that. Not Bobby. Not Angel. And NOT you, ok?" He held her face with one hand, and she nodded, looking away, then back at him. "OK." He said, and kissed her cheek. "Angel, to the fridge. Beers all around. I need a drink. Alex, I can only assume..."

"Yeah."
"OK. And Angel, you've never passed down anything alcoholic. Don't start now."

"Hah. You're funny. Really, you are." He said, humorous in his seriousness. He passed out a beer to each, then sat down on the living room chair, Alexis sitting next to Jack.

"You'll enjoy drinking with me. I can't hold my liquor, and I'm the giggly-drunk type." Alex stated, almost proudly.

Jack laughed. "I'll bet you still look hot, though."

"Well, yeah, that goes without saying."

"You guys are now gonna be totally open about this, aren't you? This whole, relationship thing?"

"Huh? Um, we never really, uh, established, a, uh, name for this...thing.." Jack said, nervously.

"Oh.." Angel said. 'Shit. Now they have to. Nice going, Mercer,' He thought to himself.

"So, uh, is this...are we...um, are you my boyfriend now?" Alex was equally on edge, and hopeful, still.

"Uh..yes." He said, first taking a second to think, not about his decision, but about how to word it. So, he just said it. "I am." He said, turning to look at her. "Meaning, you're my girlfriend."

"Wow. Cool." And again, she makes him forget all about his wounds, all that's paining him. They draw each other nearer, and, though it happened much quicker than it's explained, they continue what they had going, making out on the couch. Angel was very uncomfortable, obviously, but he be damned if he was leaving a beer unfinished.

It was cold outside. It was late October, but in Detroit, winter lasted about half the year. But Bobby had hardly noticed. He was too wound up. 'What the hell just happened?' He needed a drink. Desperately. He entered the bar, and sat down at the counter. The bartender, John, didn't even bother asking, just brought him a beer. He knew the routine. Bobby sat, silently. Then, a girl, about, say, 28, came in, and took a seat at the counter. She had reddish-brown hair, straight, medium-length. She wore a red leather jacket, open to show a black tank, clearly showing her red bra underneath, and a short leather mini-skirt. On her feet were tall shiny leather hooker-type boots, with pointy heels, not to the point of they could easily stab out your eyes, but still outrageously, well, outrageous. Bobby was pretty sure she was a stripper. Or a hooker. Either. Or both. She sat down a few stools away from Bobby, where the bar took a corner, so he wasn't really next to hr, but not technically facing her, either. But it would be obvious whenever he glanced over at her. Which is what she wanted.

"Hey, John-o! Beer, please."

"Here you go, kid. Drink up."

So there they sat, for a moment, before,

"So, you're not gonna hit on me?"

"Huh?" Bobby asked, dumbfounded.

"Hit on me. I figured you would. Every guy does. But you didn't."

"Did you want me to?"

She shrugged, her eyebrows raising and falling as her shoulders did. "Haven't decided yet. What did you have in mind?"

"I didn't. YOU struck up this conversation."

Again her eyebrows raised as she nodded. "You have a point there. So, do you mind if I hit on you?"

This time it was Bobby's turn to raise his eyebrows. He almost spit his beer across the room, and, seeing his expression, Katrina, the smartass 'barmaid' ducked to the side, holding up a towel she had been using to wipe down the counter as cover. Bobby flipped her off, more friendly then offensive, if that made any sense, and she returned the gesture. The girl at the bar just laughed. "So, DO you mind?"

He thought for a second, then swiveled in his stool, slightly, so he was facing her. "Hit me with your best shot." He said, and grinned.

Bobby and the girl burst through the door of the bar, and went outside, kissing hungrily. There were leaning up against her car.

"So, you wanna let me in your car? We can, well..." She smiled, michieviously.

"Wait, I thought this was your car."

"No..."

They both glanced at the car, they quickly moved away, moving back to the building, leaning now against the wall, still making out.

"Wait, what's your name?" She asked him.

"Bobby. You?"

"Kerrie." She slid her hand away from Bobby's, well, she wasn't THERE, but she was close, and quickly shook his hand. "Nice to meet you, Bobby."

"You too."

Ah, smalltalk. Didn't last long, though. They soon returned to making out.

After a bit, she pulled out a credit card, and used her head to signal down the street. "There's a crappy motel not too far from here."

Breathing deeply, like her, he looked toward the hotel, then back at her, and nodded. They walked, very fast. The silence on the way there was awkward. But they neared the motel, got a room, then could hardly get outside before he grabbed her, spun her around, and started kissing her again. Her lips. Her neck. She fumbled with the key, not even tearing herself away for a moment to see what she was doing. But she soon go the door open. Bobby kicked the door shut, and, in the dark, they somehow found the bed, and fell down on it. This girl was intriguing. She was Bobby's type. Not a whore, don't get it twisted, but, still, she was, interesting.