Warning: This chapter jumps around a bit. I'm sorry in advance if it gets confusing.
Marceline pulls the white speedboat up close to shore before dropping the anchor to keep it relatively stationary. Keas jumps out first, the water coming up to just a few inches below his hips. He reaches out to Marcy to help her out. She places her hands on his shoulders and he grips her waist just enough not to drop her. He lifts her effortlessly and sets her down into the water gently. She shivers a bit when the cool water laps at her stomach as she moves towards shore.
Blake had spotted the boat as it was getting closer and smiles at the sight of Marcy. He was beginning to wonder if she was really going to bring the boat back or not. After all she did pull out her gun and threatened to kill him if he called the cops. And yet there she is, wading to shore with a six foot-four man next to her. Blake gawks at the sight of the muscular man. He isn't an overly large man – Blake's muscles are bigger overall – but his muscle tone is a lot more taunt and dense, not to mention shaped to make him more sleek and aerodynamic. Blake knows that he would no doubt lose if he ever got into a confrontation with the tall man.
Marcy smiles at Blake just as a wave comes up to hit the back of her knees. She waves to him before grabbing Keas' right hand and pulling him over in that direction. Keas eyes the younger man, memorizing his features in case he may ever need to find him at a later date. He catches the way his eyes linger on Marcy's more intimate spots. His stomach feels like it's tied in a knot; at this rate no one may be finding him later.
The two friends come around the boat trailer attached to Blake's truck and stop a few feet away from him. "Hello, Blake. I brought your boat back, just as promised," Marcy speaks up first. Blake offers an uneasy smile.
"Yeah, I can see that. Honestly I'm pretty shocked you did," he responds.
Marcy replies with a playful scoff, "Well I am a woman of my word, after all. The heat's died down and my friends are safe so we don't need it anymore." Blake can't stop his gaze from traveling down, but when the atmosphere fills with murderous intent he quickly raises it to look at her face. He doesn't dare look to her friend to see his expression. "Anyway, we should get going. We don't want to keep our friends waiting. Good luck out there," Marcy says. She goes to walk away with Keas, but stops when Blake grabs her wrist.
"Wait! How about we, I don't know, go out on the boat and have a few drinks or-" Blake cuts off when the redhead puts his arm around Marcy's shoulders. Keas gives him a murderous glare.
"She's drinking with me," he struggles to speak calmly. "Let's go, Marcy." He leads her away and neither of them looks back at the younger man. No matter how much Marcy's polite nature wants her to turn and apologize in some way she knows doing so won't be beneficial to calming Keas' nerves. She would much rather keep her best friend calm. With each deep breath Keas feels his heartbeat lessen, and with each step his anger fades. He lowers his arm from her shoulder as they reach the steps to the pier above.
Marceline lightly takes ahold of his hand and pulls him forward a bit. Physical reassurance has always helped calm Keas down when he's riled up; Marcy realized this very early after meeting the man. Distraction is another. "Hey, do you think we should pick up a new coffee table on the way to the apartment? I think I saw a thrift store on the way over here." Keas smiles with a sigh; she can always calm him when violence isn't needed.
"Not a bad idea. The one there is done," he responds. He moves to walk behind her so a woman doesn't run into him; Marcy never lets go of his hand. "Maybe one with glass. With wood legs." Marcy smiles.
"I was thinking more of just wood like that one, but I guess that will work. We're going to need a new couch and chair anyway. The blood is not going to come out of there," she replies. A thought comes to mind and Marcy squeezes Keas' hand. "Oh yeah, I learned something about all that blood. We were right that more than one person was killed in there. Apparently this cunt and her bitch of a boyfriend lived there. Trevor killed them because the woman pulled a gun on him." Keas' eyebrows shoot up.
"Trevor did?" he asks. He then grins. "I knew we would get along. He has lots a weapons," he comments. He has no idea where Trevor was keeping all the guns he switched to when running out of ammo. Honestly Keas thought Trevor would be the type to never leave his house without filling his magazines each morning. Marcy nods.
"You and Franklin really hit it off, too. I don't think I've ever heard you speak so much with someone else before. What did you guys talk about, anyway?" she asks. Keas watches the way her hair sways side to side with each step up the stairway.
"Oh, not much," he says nonchalantly. His eyes trail down her bare back slowly. "Just told stories, mostly," he adds. His eyes land on their loosely held hands and his smile softens a bit. Stories of their pasts and important people, specifically.
Franklin climbs into the back of the Karin Rebel since Trevor had already jumped into the driver's seat. Keas climbs in after, sitting behind the passenger's seat and leaving it for Marcy who's still speaking to Ron. Keas knows she's trying to calm his nerves; she's always been the type to try and make everyone comfortable. She's done it plenty of times to him so he knows it all too well. Trevor smacks the side of the truck loudly.
"Hurry the fuck up!" he shouts at her. Marcy whirls around on him.
"Shut up, Trevor! I'm coming!" she shouts back. Franklin chuckles to himself.
"Man, she really knows how to hold her own against Trevor, doesn't she?" he asks Keas. Keas grins.
"Yeah. Marcy's always been tough. She has to be," he responds. Frank nods in understanding as Marcy climbs into the passenger seat.
"Right. The leader of a meth lab has got to be tough, huh?" he replies. Keas raises an eyebrow at him questioningly. Trevor takes off down the road. "She told me a bit about it," Frank clarifies, and then he turns so he's now facing Keas. "What's your relationship with her, anyway? She said you're her bodyguard, but I doubt that's why she brought you on vacation with her." Keas furrows his brows.
"We best friends. We do almost everything together," he replies. Franklin shakes his head.
"So you guys aren't dating?" he asks. In all honesty he hopes they are; something about how in sync they seem to be makes him think they're a couple. Franklin realizes that isn't the case upon seeing Keas' forlorn expression. "Why not?" Keas sighs.
"I can't tell her," he mutters back. "Marcy very important. If I tell, she might not return feelings and leave." Franklin raises an eyebrow, thoroughly confused. Marcy really doesn't seem like the type to stop speaking to someone simply because they admitted to liking her. Frank places a hand on Keas' shoulder in reassurance.
"Shit man, I doubt that. You could always take it slow, like going out for drinks or a bike ride or whatever she likes," he advices. "So what does she like to do when she's not working?" Keas pulls his lips together thoughtfully.
"Well… she likes movies," Keas speaks after a while. "And bowling. And going on walks." Franklin smiles at the man.
"See? Do one of those things with her. I hope it doesn't turn out like it did with me and my ex," Franklin murmurs at the end. Keas raises a brow as if questioning him, and Frank feels compelled to respond. "Her name is Tanisha. We met back in high school before I got kicked out. Aw man, she was the best thing to happen to me."
"What happened?" Keas asks. Frank sighs, mentally slapping himself in the process.
"She left me after her brother was killed. She said my criminal life was gonna put her in danger," he explains. He quickly adds, "You don't have to worry about that happening, though. Marcy is already in the criminal business so she can't use that as an excuse." Keas chuckles.
"Yeah, that's true. She was dealing before we met," he lets slip. Keas realizes his mistake of speaking about their work and quickly looks away. Franklin wishes to reassure Keas and explain that he already knew that, but Marcy opens the window in the back of the cab when he goes to do so.
"Guys, Trevor's going to ram the Regina," she warns quickly. Franklin glares at the back of Trevor's head as he grumbles to himself. Keas, however, takes ahold of his tomahawk and prepares to launch himself at the car like he has done many times before.
Energetic music plays from the live band in the corner of the busy bar. At a group table sits 5 young men rating the women in the establishment. So far no one has rated them above a 6, therefore they haven't engaged with any of them. The small bell on the door of the main entrance dings as another customer enters the business. The blond of the group looks to the door to see who it is before getting his friends' attention.
"Guys, check out the babe!" he says in a hushed tone. The others look over to the auburn haired woman. Her curls cascade down her back, covering her bare shoulders. The red of her shirt stands out against her tan skin; it ends above her bellybutton, exposing the now red piercing. The shirt collar rests at the base of her neck, comes down as a single piece, and fans out and around her mid back to help keep her chest covered. Her blue jeans hug her hipbones and cover just the top of her black ankle boots.
"She's a nine for sure," the Korean man says. The brunet shakes his head.
"Nah, more like a seven. She looks older than us," he counters. They watch as she scans the bar, seemingly looking for someone. The Irish man taps the blond on the shoulder.
"If she gets stood up I'm going for the rebound," he states with a smug grin, his accent thick. Upon spotting that she is the first to arrive the woman finds an empty booth to sit in as she waits. After ten minutes the Irish man smirks. "Looks like it's Cormac's time to shine." He stands confidently, the ding of the bell barely registering at the back of his mind as his friends encourage him to go for it. Cormac just passes the first table of several when a loud voice booms out.
"Marcy! You made it!" the voice shouts. Everyone turns to the slightly balding 48 year old man. His arms are spread wide above his head in a joyful, friendly manner.
Please no. Don't be-. Cormac looks to the green eyed beauty to see a bright smile on her red lips. She lets out a laugh.
"Hey, Trevor. Glad you made it, too," she responds as the camo dressed man makes his way to her booth and sits across from her. Cormac feels his hopes shatter and returns dejectedly to his seat.
Marcy smiles nervously as Trevor looks around the bar. "Where's Keas?" he asks, finally looking back at her. A cute blonde waitress places two waters on the table and walks away. Marcy rubs the back of her neck.
"We had a little altercation with a man on the way here. He's getting rid of the body," she explains. Trevor doesn't say anything other than 'ah.' "Where's Franklin?" she asks in return. Trevor scoffs.
"Fucker bailed. He got a call about a job and said he would have to take a raincheck on our little outing here." Trevor folds his arms and leans back in his seat. "Uncle T doesn't do anything he doesn't want to," he continues. He then leans forward, uncrosses his arms, and places them on the table in front of him. "So tell Uncle T; are you and Keas married?" Marcy spits out the water she just tried to drink, splashing it all over Trevor's face. She covers her mouth in shock. Trevor blinks a couple times before running his hand down his face to get rid of the water.
"I'm so sorry!" She grabs a couple napkins and moves to Trevor's side. He doesn't say anything as she tries to dry him off. "You surprised me," she says after a while.
"So I'll take that as a no, huh?" he asks playfully. She smiles sheepishly in return.
"Right. Keas is my best friend, not my lover," she clarifies. Although he's been acting a bit differently since arriving here. He certainly never would have kissed my forehead back at home. Trevor grabs her hand when she goes to move it away from his now mostly dry hunting vest. Marcy's eyes widen at the gesture, surprised at how gently the crazy man is holding it.
"So you're not dating anyone?" he asks, his lips curling up in an almost smug smile. Marcy pulls her hand away and shakes her head. Before Trevor can say anything further they both hear the bell at the entrance ding. They look behind them to see Keas standing in the doorway, a few blood spots still fresh on his blue jean pant legs. His white shirt is gone, no doubt discarded because of the bloodstains. The black hoodie is fully unzipped with his abs and still fresh stitches framed for everyone to see. Keas spots his two friends and makes his way over with a smile, but it falters a tad seeing her sitting next to Trevor. "Good of you to join us, Keas," Trevor says. Keas nods silently and sits across from the two of them. Marcy can feel the tension rising in the air around them. She chuckles nervously.
"I'll go grab a few beers for us. I'll be right back," she tells the men. Please don't fight, she mentally wishes as she moves away from the booth.
Trevor leans back in the booth and rests his arms across the back of the seat. Keas grabs the glass of water Marcy drank from and takes a drink himself. "So," Trevor starts, trying to ease the tension, "Marcy said you were taking care of someone. What happened?" Keas feels his shoulders relax a tad.
"Someone ran red light on the way here, then tried to hit on Marcy. I lost it," he explains. Technically that's what happened, although the man wasn't flirting; he punched Marcy right on her covered up bruise and knocked the wind out of her. But thanks to Keas' slight problem with wording sentences Trevor assumes Keas attacked simply because the man tried to flirt with her.
"You're really protective of her, aren't you?" the older man observes aloud. Keas doesn't hesitate to nod his response. Trevor leans forward so he's holding himself up with his crossed arms. "Don't you think maybe you're protecting her a bit too much?" he asks next. Keas falters at the question. He had wondered that same thing quite a few years ago himself and had dismissed the thought. But hearing someone else ask the same thing really makes him think about it again. "Marcy is a strong young woman. I'm sure she would be able to handle herself without your help." Trevor secretly smirks at the troubled expression Keas shows. He replaces the smirk with a smile when he sees Marcy come over with a pitcher of beer and 3 mugs.
"I figured this would be easier and cheaper," she explains as she sets them down on the table. She takes hold of the pitcher and expertly pours each of them a drink. "Drink up, boys," she says with a grin. Trevor grabs the mug closest to him and downs its contents quickly. Keas, not wanting to be shown up, does the same with his drink. Marcy, however, doesn't mind being seen as a lightweight and takes a few gulps from hers while sitting next to Keas.
Trevor smacks his lips and slams the mug onto the table with a content sigh. "That sure hit the spot," he states with a large grin. "So Marcy, tell me a bit about yourself. What was your childhood like?" he asks. He pours himself another cup as he waits for a response. Marcy gives him a small smile.
"It wasn't exactly the best, although I guess no one's really is. My mom died when I was young; I think I was 11 or 12. I can't fully remember that time," she explains. She looks down at her mug, her eyes almost blank as she thinks of her past. "My dad was a druggie. He cooked meth in my house with my uncle after my mom died to help support me through high school. I basically took care of myself by then since my dad was high a lot. But when he was sober he was the best." She smiles softly. Keas places his hand on her thigh for comfort and she smiles wider, thankful for it. "He took me bowling a lot. It was mostly to make deals, but the fun we had afterward are some of my fondest memories of him."
"Is he still around?" Trevor asks, genuinely curious. Marcy shakes her head sadly. She downs half of what's left in her mug, and then licks her lips to get the beer left over.
"No. He was getting too much business apparently so some gang lit the house on fire with him inside a week after my 18th birthday. They were new to the town; they had only been around for a month at the time. After that I lived with my uncle and got a part-time job at a grocery store to finish off school." Marcy finishes the rest of her beer and soon after lets out a burp. She doesn't excuse herself, already feeling the alcohol affecting her. "I did go to college," she says as an afterthought.
"Did you finish college?" Keas asks. He hadn't known that. Marcy grins wide as she pours Kea and herself another drink.
"Yeah. I got an associate's degree in accounting. Not to mention minored in psychology," she explains. Trevor raises an eyebrow at the strange combination.
"How did you pay for it? I doubt that part-time job could cover it," he questions. Marcy nods.
"You're right. It could barely cover my bills let alone college. Before my dad was killed he taught me how to cook meth and all the prices for different amounts in case I needed to know it in the future. So with the help from my uncle we started selling again," she clarifies. The three friends oddly go to take a drink simultaneously. Marcy stops after a few gulps, but Trevor and Keas continue to down the beer without breaking their intense gaze. Tension continues to fill the air until Keas finishes his mug first and sets it down with a satisfied sigh. Trevor puts his mug down heavily and grabs the pitcher. He frowns after finding only a small amount left. He pours the last of it into Marcy's mug which fills it to the rim before standing from the booth.
"I'll pay for the next one," he says before heading to the bar counter. Marcy turns to Keas with a sweet smile.
"This isn't going as horribly as I imagined," she states optimistically. Keas, however, feels differently. He turns so his upper half is facing her and his left knee is gently touching hers.
"Should you really be tellin' him all this? We met him today," he states. He doesn't want to doubt her judgement, but for some reason he can't explain Trevor's actions are bothering him. Marcy stops herself from waving off his doubts as nothing. Keas has always been a great judge of character whether he knows it or not; the last time she didn't listen to him ended disastrously. Marcy pats Keas' leg close to his knee for reassurance.
"I haven't named any specific places or names for a reason, Keas. If knowing a mostly vague part of my past satisfies his curiosity enough to be on his friendly side then I'm ok with that. I would much rather have him as an ally than an enemy," she explains. She smiles sweetly, relaxing his nerves a bit. "Besides, so long as you remain by my side, I know nothing horrible will happen," she adds. She gives his leg a light squeeze before bringing her hand back. Keas gives her a thankful smile while his heart flutters a bit from the physical touch.
Trevor comes back to the table just then with two pitchers in hand. The first is a light almost yellow color while the other is more of a dark maple. Marcy takes a drink from her mug as he sets them down. "Two is always better than one," Trevor states with a smirk. Keas grabs the darker pitcher and pours himself a cup. Marcy sets her half empty glass on the table with a smack of her lips.
"Unless it's tumors," she remarks. Trevor's face scrunches at the bad joke, but Keas smiles anyway. "My gosh, lighten up, Trev. I'm just joking around." She lets out a hearty laugh when he shakes his head at her. He pours himself a cup of the yellowish beer before downing it quickly. He wipes his chin with the back of his sleeve.
"I just can't seem to figure you two out," he states randomly. Marcy and Keas swap confused expressions.
"What you mean?" Keas asks.
Trevor looks between the two friends critically. "Marcy, you seem to have it all. You have the looks, the wit, and the money. You could probably have your pick of any guy in here if you wanted. And Keas, you have almost all the ladies in here checking you out, not to mention you're a savage in a fight. How are you both single?" he finally asks. "I just don't get it. If I was you I would be getting it on instead of sitting here like virgins." Keas blushes lightly at the suggestion while Marcy blinks slowly. Virgins?
"Whoever said we were virgins?" she asks almost indignantly. Keas quickly swallows the beer he had been drinking before he can spit it out in surprise while his blush deepens. Trevor smirks at her. He had guessed that she wasn't, but he wanted to hear her say it herself.
"Well it doesn't surprise me that you're not. You do have a smokin' hot bod," he replies coolly. Marcy feels a small shiver race up her back at the way he said it. Something about it bothers her.
"Thanks. So, uh Trevor, what was your childhood like?" she asks, trying desperately to change the subject. Trevor doesn't notice Marcy's discomfort but he decides to humor the topic change anyway.
"Well where should I start? I grew up on the Canadian border of America and have lived in two countries, five states, fourteen homes, three care homes, and two correctional facilities. I had eight fathers; one brother who died in an "accident;" and a beautiful, damaged flower of a mother," he explains. Marcy raises an eyebrow but stays silent, taking note of the air quotes he used. If she didn't know any better she would say he's practiced his explanation before. Trevor uses his pause to finish his mug. He smacks his lips to enjoy the lingering taste before continuing. "My first father left me at a shopping mall when I was little and never came back." Marcy pours Trev another glass and he thanks her with a nod. He stares down into the frothy beer being held by his burly hands. "I burned it down a few years later hoping he was inside," he adds. Marcy chuckles and Trevor feels himself crack a small, almost sad smile. Marcy and Keas turn to each other and seem to share a short, silent conversation before Marcy turns back to the older man.
"That's understandable. I burned down my uncle's house with him still inside after I found out he was stealing from me. Keas here beat his first foster father even after he fell unconscious. He was abusive to Keas," she says, gesturing to the redhead when she speaks of him. Trevor feels his smile grow a bit. "These things just made us who we are. And I figure if you can't be yourself in your own life, then who will?"
Trevor grins. "You know what? You're right. And there ain't nobody that can be like Uncle T than me. Thanks Marce." The nickname came out subconsciously to where Trevor didn't even realize he said it until a whole silent minute later. His eyes widen as he lifts his gaze to see her reaction, fearing the worst. Keas nervously glances at Marcy periodically waiting for the lashing out that's bound to happen. However Marceline acts as if she didn't even notice and silently takes a drink. Keas notices her white knuckles clutching the handle of the mug and realizes she's trying to restrain herself. He smiles, glad to see that she's letting something go for once.
Marceline's first instinct was to lunge across the table and punch Trevor square in the jaw for saying the nickname her uncle used to call her, but she knows it's not his fault. He wasn't the one who made a deal behind her father's back. He's not the one who sold out her father's location to the gang who killed him. He's not the one who secretly stole money from their deals to give to the gang. He wasn't the one who tried to get the gang to kill her so he could have a larger percentage of profit. Too bad for him the plan backfired. Marcy's grip on her mug relaxes a bit at the thought of her sweet revenge. She made sure each and every person in the now nonexistent gang knew exactly how her father felt when he was burned alive. She vaguely hears Trevor say something in the back of her mind, but she's so caught up in the past that she doesn't quite notice.
As Marcy continues to silently drink her beer Trevor leans across the table to speak quietly to Keas. "What's up with her? I was sure she would snap at me at least," he asks, eyeing the woman cautiously. Keas shakes his head with a smile. He leans toward the table as well, the right side of him bent to rest on his elbow against the table. He leaves his left leg partially resting on the bench, his knee still touching Marcy's. He speaks quietly.
"She's trying not to ruin night. She will ignore us until she calms herself. We got maybe five-ten minutes max," he replies. Trevor turns from looking at the strangely quiet auburn haired woman to look at the man across from him. They really do know each other very well; he can tell that much now. To be able to just look at each other to know what they're thinking shows a lot of trust and understanding.
"You two really get each other, huh?" Trevor asks. Keas cocks up his right eyebrow silently asking Trevor what he means. He takes the hint and clarifies. "You two must have known each other for years to get along this good," he restates. Keas grins at the man.
"Yeah, we've been friends for a long time," he responds. His smile softens knowing that out of everyone he's known, she's the one who's stuck with him the longest.
Trevor sees Keas' soft smile when his gaze drifts to Marcy. He looks between the two before he finally figures out the obvious. Keas loves Marcy. The thought shocks him as it passes through his mind. That must be it. It definitely explains a lot. He looks over the relaxed frame of the younger man for a moment before speaking up. "So what about your past, Keas?" The redhead turns his attention to the balding man. "What was your childhood like?" he asks. Keas shifts uncomfortably, straitening himself out a bit.
"I don't remember a whole lot. I got a concussion when in jail and forgot a lot. Marcy is helping me get them back," he replies.
Trevor's brows furrow in thought. "Did you know Marcy before getting the concussion?" he asks next. Keas simply shakes his head. Trevor hums thoughtfully, trying to come up with another question. "Is Keas your real name?" Again Keas shakes his head.
"I couldn't remember. I think the doc at jail might have said it, but everyone else kept calling me Keas. Something about stealing keys from a guard started it." He looks down at his bare hands. "Marcy nice enough to let me have her last name since I don't know mine," he adds.
Trevor grins at the young man. "I know someone who's very good at finding information about people. Since you have a criminal record I'm pretty sure he could find out your name," Trevor states. Keas looks at him hopefully. "If you want I can give him a call." Keas feels his eyes start to water. Finally he can learn his birth name. He's been trying to figure it out for so long that it got to the point that he thought he would never find out what it was. Just by looking at his face Trevor can tell how much the thought means to him, so he stands from the booth with a wide grin.
Marcy notices the large shift in movement and finally snaps out of her daze. She looks up at the standing Trevor confused. "Leaving already?" she asks. Trevor takes out his phone and lifts it in the air for her to see.
"Just gotta make a call. By any chance do you know when Keas went to jail?" Trevor asks. Marcy blinks slowly then furrows her brows thoroughly confused.
"I found an article about the incident that put him in jail. It was dated May 25th, 2001," she answers anyway. Trevor smiles and nods before heading out the exit. Marcy turns to Keas. "What was that about?" Keas grabs her right hand in both of his, the excitement and anxiety growing with each passing second.
"Trev knows someone that can find my name. My birth name," he answers. He smiles wide while trying to suppress the urge to bounce in his seat. "I'll finally know who I was." Marcy smiles and places her other hand on top of his.
"That's wonderful, Keas! I'm so happy for you." Despite the joy she feels she can't help the worry tugging at her heart. Most of his regained memories have been pretty terrible, and she gets the feeling whatever this person may uncover could just further damage Keas' image of his past self. She hopes with all her heart that knowing won't hurt him.
The brown wooden door opens squeakily before the pale green eyed woman stumbles in. She laughs at herself as she uses the wall beside her to keep herself up. Her tall best friend walks in behind her with a smile on his face as he shuts the door. She drops her ankle boots by the door after having carried them up the steps; she didn't trust herself walking on the lifted heels. She moves to have a seat on the plastic covered couch, but stumbles again after only a few steps. Keas quickly catches her arm so she doesn't face-plant on the floor. She lets out a giggle as Keas pulls her up and turns her around so she's facing him, and then wraps his arms around her to keep her upright. His expression softens, but Marcy is too busy giggling at herself to notice.
"That was a lot of fun, wasn't it Keas?" she asks, a large grin on her face. It's been quite some time since they've had time to let loose and drink like this. Her hazy mind can't even seem to recall the last time she got giggly drunk. She must say her favorite part was the drinking contest between Trevor and a group of younger men. The last two had been between Trevor and an Irish man, although she can't seem to recall his name. Ultimately Trevor won by three full mugs.
Keas smiles down at the giddy, beautiful woman in his arms. "Yeah, it was lots of fun. We should do again," he responds. Marcy subconsciously places her hands flat against Keas' bare chest under his open hoodie. They roam slowly over his muscles as she seems to marvel at the feel of them. Keas' heart picks up its pace quickly as he relishes at the feeling of her soft hands.
"You're tough," Marcy mumbles aloud. She runs her hands up and around his neck before leaning forward and resting her head just below his chin. He pulls her closer, his arms resting at her exposed lower back. Keas rests his cheek on her hair and breathes in deeply, the scent of her coconut conditioner relaxing his tense shoulders.
"You're soft," he mumbles back. Marcy leans back, her eyes hooded and glazed over as she looks up at him. Keas feels his heartstrings being pulled practically leading him to her lips. He moves only an inch before hesitating. In that moment Marcy's eyes widen and grow sharp. She moves quickly out of his arms and then just as quickly jabs him in the chest with her fist. It wasn't extremely hard and in fact it didn't jolt Keas at all, but the shock of it all still affected him. His eyes widen in surprise, although Marcy just grins and lifts her fists.
"I bet I can still best you in a fight," she teases. Keas' shock fades quickly and his ajar mouth widens into an open grin.
"Is that right?" he counters. Marcy nods before lunging forward, aiming a right hook to the side of his head. He steps back to dodge it and catches her around her mid-back when the force throws her off balance. He grabs ahold of her right hand to prevent her from flipping over his arm. If she hadn't known how they got into this position she would swear it looks like they were dancing. Keas chuckles after seeing her blush. "Maybe you can," he pauses briefly to smile, "when you're sober." Marcy smiles sheepishly. After helping her become upright once more Keas moves to the small kitchen to grab her a glass of water.
Marceline rubs the back of her neck; a nervous tick she wishes she never had. She hadn't really planned to drink so much tonight. After all, they did meet up at the bar at seven in the afternoon. But after those thoughts of her past she wanted nothing more than to forget it all. A pang of guilt sobers her up a bit and she frowns. This is the part of being drunk that she hates; the self-loathing and self-doubt that follows the giddy-ness if she doesn't fall asleep in time. Marcy knows she would give anything to forget the constant pain her past brings her, and yet the man just in the other room would give anything to remember no matter how painful it could be.
Keas comes back with the glass in hand, three ice cubes just the way she likes it, but his smile falls seeing the somber look on Marcy's face. He moves to face her right side then leans forward so his face is sideways in front of hers. "Hey, what's wrong?" Marcy takes the outstretched glass with a quiet thank you before taking a drink. "You know you can tell me if something wrong," Keas urges. Marcy lets out a sigh and she diverts her eyes.
"Am I selfish?" she asks quietly. Part of her hopes he didn't hear her, while another wishes desperately that he did. Keas furrows his brows and shakes his head.
"Of course not. Why you think that?" He gently leads her to the couch and helps her sit before taking the spot next to her. The plastic crinkles beneath them but Keas ignores it being too focused on Marcy. He places a hand on her thigh for comfort.
"I ask too much of you sometimes. You do a wonderful job protecting me that sometimes I act carelessly because I know you will be there to keep me safe." She twirls the water in the glass with her finger slowly. Keas frowns, thinking back to what Trevor said at the bar.
"You think I'm too protective?" he asks quietly. Marcy quickly shakes her head.
"Of course not, Keas! I've never once thought that. I just feel like I take advantage of you sometimes." This time it was Keas' turn to shake his head.
"Of course you don't. You do so much for me. You gave me a home, a real friend, job, and purpose." Marcy opens her mouth to speak, but Keas holds a finger to her lips. "No. This time I do pep talk," he says seriously. She closes her mouth and cradles the cup in her hands. Keas smiles, pleased she's letting him take control of the conversation so easily. He clears his throat and straightens his posture. "You have been my savior. Those cops that day stopped me as I was walking. I was trying to find address doc gave me when I left jail to get help. They harassed me afterward, sure I did something wrong 'cause I had tomahawk from my personal affects. They called me names and pushed me until I snapped and attacked. If you didn't walk by I probably be in jail again." He pauses, finally looking into her eyes. "You showed someone can care for me and be kind. You treated my wounds and cooked me meals. And you taught me what real friends are. You could have sent me away after helping me, but you welcomed me in your home. You offered me job, and you helped me learn things again. Thanks to you I have learned so much. You even help with my memories and that means a lot." He takes the cup from her hands and sets it on the glass and wooden coffee table. He then holds her hands gently. "If you ever need help with anything let me know. If you're sad, let me know. I want to help you as much I can."
Marcy feels tears well up in her eyes no matter how hard she tries to blink them away. She wipes them away, not even ashamed of them anymore. Keas' words relieved so much doubt she had been burying. She pulls him into a hug and he happily returns it. After a couple minutes Marcy turns her head and plants a kiss on his cheek then mumbles a thank you. Keas pulls away afterward, a blush dusting his cheeks. She smiles when she sees it and pulls out of the hug.
"I think it's time to get some sleep. It's getting pretty late," she states. Keas looks at his watch to see it's already 11:37pm. Although they would usually stay up until approximately one in the morning they did have a very exhausting day.
After arriving at the apartment after returning the boat to Blake they had to carry the new coffee table inside and get rid of the blood-stained one. Keas removed the area rug on the floor and threw it in the trash. After covering the existing couch and chair with plastic Marcy put ointment on her bruise as promised. The bedroom, bathroom, and closet were untouched by Trevor's victims, so Keas only had to speed clean the main room and kitchen so Marcy could make them dinner before going to the bar. Thinking about everything they did today Keas can feel the fatigue in his limbs. After their long adventurous day he can see why. Keas smiles. "Yeah, I agree."
Marcy stands and Keas follows after rather quickly. He moves away from her to the chair on his right to pick up a blanket draped on the arm of it. When he turns back to the couch he's surprised to see Marcy still standing there. She's timidly holding her right arm at her side with her left hand on her elbow. "You plan to sleep on the couch?" she asks.
Keas becomes confused. Don't we only have one bed, he questions himself. "Where else would I sleep?" he asks aloud. Marcy shifts her weight to her left. Keas recognizes the stance. She must be really nervous.
"Why not sleep in the bed with me?" she blurts out. A blush overcomes Keas' cheeks quickly, rivaled only by his hair. He feels his heart skip a beat at the thought. "I wouldn't be able to forgive myself if I made you sleep out here. The fumes from the bleach is already making me more lightheaded," she continues.
"You sure?" he finds himself asking. "I'd be ok." He mentally scolds himself. Shut up! You've dreamed of this for six years!
Marceline shakes her head. "It's just for sleep. Come on," she urges. She turns away and heads down the hall to the single bedroom. Keas waits a few minutes before taking his time going to the bedroom himself. He wanted to be sure she had plenty of time to get changed in peace. He opens the door just as Marcy straightens out the light blue nightgown she has on. She turns to see him and smiles, her hair now draped over her exposed shoulders. "I can leave the room if you would like to get changed," she offers. Keas shakes his head.
"No; I'll change in bathroom," he counters. He grabs his change of clothes from his still packed luggage and goes into the bathroom. After taking his time getting ready for the night he goes back into the bedroom to find Marceline already in the queen sized bed fast asleep. He smiles softly at the sight of her. Usually when the door to the room is opened Marcy will wake up right away, but she must have been extremely tired to fall asleep so deeply so fast.
Keas quietly makes his way to the bed. Before climbing in to join her Keas hesitates, the thought of going back out and sleeping on the couch crossing his mind briefly. As soon as the thought came Keas pushed it away. Marcy has never offered to share a bed before, and for all he knows it could be a once in a lifetime opportunity. So with a large amount of determination Keas climbs under the covers to join her. He makes sure not to touch her, though. No matter how much he would like to he knows he shouldn't, especially since she's drunk and asleep.
The redhead keeps his back to Marceline to help prevent his urge to wrap her in his arms from growing, but he can still feel and hear her behind him. She moves every which way trying desperately in her sleep to find a more comfortable position. After a few minutes her foot moves back far enough to touch Keas' calf lightly. She stops momentarily, her toes wiggling on his skin. She moves her leg back a bit further to lay her foot flat on his calf. She sighs contently in her sleepy state, enjoying the warmth his skin is transferring to hers. Keas smiles sleepily. Knowing that his presence is helping her rest more peacefully helps Keas drift to sleep perfectly content.
Hello! Thank you for the continued support. In case you didn't pick up on it, the part where Trevor talks about his family is a paraphrased exert from the game when he talks about it. I'm sorry I didn't post this last month; I couldn't figure out exactly how to end this chapter and I hope you like how it ended up. Next chapter will be diving into their past more so stay tuned! Don't forget to review!
-Jen