DISCLAIMER: I do not own Repo! or any of the characters or places from the movie. If you saw it there, it isn't mine.
AN: As promised, another chapter before the end of the week. Friday's the end of the week, right?
***BREAK***
Shilo awoke slowly from vague dreams. In the long moments between awareness and sleep, she didn't quite know where she was. She was warm and comfortable and felt safe. She couldn't almost believe that she was back in her old room in Nathan's house . . . but the ambient sounds she remembered from her childhood were absent. She didn't hear the quiet beeping of her heart monitors or the gentle rustle of plastic sheeting. Instead, she heard faint city noises, the banging of radiator pipes, and slow, deep breathing.
As Shilo came more and more back to herself, she kept her eyes closed. She seemed to be in a relatively soft bed, although the mattress was showing its age, judging by the springs she could feel digging into her left side. One of her arms dangled off the end of the bed, and something firm was pressed against her back, following the curve of her body. She shifted slightly, trying to avoid a particularly insistent spring, and the person lying beside her mumbled something incoherent into her neck and tightened his arm around her midsection.
Shilo opened her eyes. Now she knew where she was: Darby's apartment. Early morning light was coming in from the window behind her, illuminating the wall with the door and the tiny kitchen. Looking down her body, she saw Graverobber's bare arm tucked around her waist.
Last night, after Darby had left and they had scrounged some dinner from the kitchen, Shilo had mentioned that she was tired and wanted to go to bed. She had hoped that Graverobber would offer her the bed alone, though in hindsight she saw how stupid that was. Instead, he had turned down the covers, taken off his boots and shirt (Shilo again trying not to stare), and climbed into the left side of the bed, gesturing for her to join him on the right.
"I'm not sleeping with you," Shilo told him quickly. To her everlasting gratitude, she didn't blush this time.
"There's a difference between sleeping with someone and sleeping with someone," Graverobber said with a yawn. "Come on, kid. The heat in this building is shot. You'll freeze."
"You're such a gentleman," she said in her most sarcastic voice.
Graverobber shrugged noncommittally. "If you're that uptight about it, sleep on the floor. You can take my coat."
Shilo frowned at him. She couldn't physically force him out; he was simply too big. She could possibly nag him so much that he gave in, but he'd be annoyed with her for days. And the floor was hard linoleum and concrete; she'd never get a decent night's rest on that. The prospect of a bed after days on the street was tempting, and though she hated to admit it to herself, sharing it with him was also tempting, though in a different way. But she ignored that last thought.
"Fine," Shilo grumbled at last. She removed her boots and gingerly slid into the bed. Typically, Graverobber made no effort to give her any personal space—on the contrary, he sprawled over the mattress, and she couldn't help brushing against his side as she settled herself.
"You stay on that side," Shilo said. She tried to make her voice sound firm and threatening, but it ended up wavering a bit. "And don't touch me."
"I make no promises."
Shilo sat upright and glared at him. "I'm serious, Graverobber," she said. "I swear, if you try anything, I'll take a needle to you."
Graverobber's eyes were already closed and his breathing calm; it amazed her how quickly he could fall asleep. He put a heavy hand on her forearm and rubbed it gently. "Relax, kid," he said softly. "Nothing'll happen unless you want it to."
And, to his credit, nothing had. Over the course of the few days they'd been together, Shilo had learned that she could trust him in certain regards. Graverobber was on the whole quite immoral and generally didn't care much about anything, including her feelings. But he was oddly friendly at times and even affectionate, and despite all his coarseness, he had never once hurt her or attempted to force her into anything.
Of course, just because nothing had happened didn't mean that he had kept his distance. In the beginning of the night, Shilo had very determinedly kept to her side of the bed. She didn't sleep well the first part of the night, and every time she woke up she found that Graverobber had moved closer to her, encroaching on her territory. She once tried to push him back, gently so as not to wake him and raise awkward questions, but he didn't stir—he didn't even seem to notice. Shilo eventually gave up and settled for being perched on the very edge of the mattress.
Until she woke one last time to find his arm tight around her, his face buried in her hair, and his body flush against hers. For the first few seconds, she panicked. She struggled to get out of his grasp and away from him—it was too much, too close, too fast; she didn't want this. But she soon realized that he was truly asleep and unaware of his actions, and she started to settle down. Once the initial shock had worn off, it started to feel . . . nice. His body was warm and the air was cold, and there was a certain protectiveness in the way his arms held her. But there was another side to it, too . . . it was almost as though he had regressed in sleep to a younger, more innocent being, and that his embrace was just as much about receiving comfort as it was about offering it. Shilo relaxed into him and slept well the rest of the night. She felt safe.
Now she was awake, Shilo studied the arm around her waist. His skin was quite pale even here, probably a combination of his genetics and the fact that he didn't spend much time in the sun. His fingernails were scuffed and dirty, even after last night's shower, and his hands were so big that he could completely envelop her fist in his.
Shilo's brow furrowed as she noticed something unusual. The skin on Graverobber's arm wasn't uniform; a large patch from elbow to wrist was mottled and discolored. She touched it gently with her finger and found that it was smooth. It was old scarring, maybe very old. Shilo absentmindedly traced her finger along the path of the scar, wondering what could have caused it. Not surgery . . . a fire?
"You're awake." Graverobber's voice in her ear, deepened and roughened by sleep, made Shilo start slightly. She tried to scooch over and gain a little distance between them, but he held his arm firmly in place, pinning her there.
Shilo concentrated on keeping her heart rate steady and her voice even as she answered. "So are you."
Graverobber made a sound in his throat that might have been a laugh. It vibrated through his chest and into Shilo's body. She shut her eyes, trying to ignore how good it felt. He was pressed up against her, completely wrapped around her, and what should have felt invasive felt exciting. A world of possibilities blossomed in Shilo's mind: they were alone, together, with no chance of interruption or attack. Would it really be so wrong to . . .
Shilo shook herself mentally. What was she thinking? Had she totally forgotten yesterday in the graveyard? Graverobber had been just as close to her then, and she'd even thought that he might make a move—and then it was like someone flipped a switch in his brain and he was completely uninterested. That was proof enough that he didn't care about her. Whatever he felt for her didn't go beyond physical attraction, and he was probably attracted on some level to every woman he came into contact with. She had no intention of letting feelings of her own develop, or of being humiliated by him again. No matter how good he made her feel.
Graverobber propped himself up on his left arm, looming over her a bit. Waking up next to Shilo was one of the better moments he'd had recently, and now that he had her like this, he intended to make the most of it. He gently stroked her hair back from her face. Her skin felt soft and warm, so different from the surgically-perfected addicts who sought his attention. She felt so good.
Shilo did her best to keep focus on herself and not on how he was making her feel, and she resented him a little for having such power over her. It just wasn't fair that he could do this to her without even trying. But through her resentment, a wicked idea began to blossom in her mind.
Shilo ran her fingertips up and down the scarred portion of his arm, as lightly as she could. She let her nails scrape the flesh there gently and was rewarded when he hissed slightly through his teeth. His hand paused by her face—she had his attention now.
"How did this happen?" she murmured as she stroked his arm.
Graverobber shrugged against her back. "A fire," he said, confirming her earlier thought. "No big deal. I was young."
"What happened?" Shilo pressed him, wanting more details. It was frustrating knowing so little about him when he knew so much about her.
Graverobber shifted a little. He was obviously uncomfortable with the subject, and him being uncomfortable was such a new phenomenon that Shilo was amazed. He finally muttered, "Opened the wrong door and burned my arm. That's all. It was a long time ago."
Shilo nodded, satisfied for the time being. She didn't know why he was so reluctant to talk about himself, but she accepted it for the most part. Like Darby had said last night, if and when he wanted to tell her something, he'd do it.
She slowly stretched and arched her back, exposing more of her neck to him. He drew in his breath quickly and gently ran his fingertips down her throat. Shilo could feel his heart pounding against her back and his breath hot on her skin—he was rapidly becoming more and more excited, but she felt strangely calm. It certainly felt nice, having him this close to her, but rather than being at his mercy, she felt collected and in control. Powerful and empowered. It was a great feeling. I could get used to this.
Curious to see how far she could take this, Shilo ran her hand down his arm one more time and even interlaced her fingers with his. He let her smaller hand guide his as she pressed his palm firmly against her abdomen, then moved it up to just below her breasts. His breathing quickened even more, and he dropped his lips once again to her throat. He pressed his hips harder into hers, and she could feel that he was hard, just as he'd been yesterday. Shilo smiled to herself. I could definitely get used to this.
"Jesus, kid," he muttered, amazed at how brazen she was being. Who would have thought that shy little Shilo had it in her? As much as he liked playing with her, it was nice having her take the lead like this. Usually he didn't care for this kind of thing with the women he was involved with—but, to be fair, they tended to be Z addicts or whores, and their advances always came across as desperation for his drugs or his money. Graverobber was well aware of his dominating tendencies and unashamed of them, but having a woman—well, girl—come onto him like this was a welcome change of pace.
The fact that it was sweet, innocent Shilo doing this just turned him on more.
"Graverobber?" Shilo murmured. Her voice was as demure and soft as she could make it, and as she spoke, she moved his hand up her body even further, allowing his fingertips to brush the underside of her breast.
"Yeah?" said Graverobber in a voice little more than a groan. Touching her like this, just a little at a time, was driving him insane. He'd only met this kid a few days ago and already it felt like the longest dry spell of his life. It was like he was stuck in a desert and only Shilo could quench his thirst. He wanted nothing more than to flip her over and kiss her and dive into her . . . but he didn't. She was in charge right now.
Shilo let herself enjoy the sensations for a moment longer, then swiftly twisted out of his grasp and stood up from the bed before he could take a firmer grip on her. She tossed her hair over her shoulder, straightened her skirt, and turned to see Graverobber staring at her from where he lay, completely nonplussed.
"Shouldn't we be going soon?" she said briskly as she smoothed the front of her top down—it had ridden up a bit in the excitement.
Graverobber mouthed wordlessly at her for a few moments, feeling completely blueballed. What the hell had he done to deserve this? Shilo just stood there, slightly flushed herself, with mischief and satisfaction sparkling in her eyes, and looking so fucking beautiful he couldn't stand it.
He hated her a little.
"Way to spoil the mood, kid," he finally managed in tones of complete exasperation, even as he tried to salvage some of his dignity.
"Oh, were we having a mood?" asked Shilo innocently.
Graverobber stared at her. "You're a bitch," he told her.
"And you're a jerk," she said promptly as she headed for the bathroom. "Come on, get up." She shut the bathroom door behind her and he heard the sink start to run.
Graverobber flopped onto his back and put his arm over his eyes as he got his breathing under control. He was so hard it was painful. Goddamn, he thought wearily. Fucking cocktease.
Still, he wouldn't trade a moment of it. She made things far too interesting, and he'd get her back later, when an opportunity presented itself. Hell, he even enjoyed the frustration. A little bit.
Shilo was out of the bathroom a few minutes later, face washed and feeling refreshed, and went to the kitchen in search of some breakfast. She rummaged through the cabinets until she found a dusty box of nutrition bars with the expiration date still good—Darby apparently wasn't big on keeping food around. She pulled out four, two of which she placed on the counter to put in her bag for later. She tossed the third to Graverobber—it landed beside him on the bed—and unwrapped the fourth. The bar was labeled "multigrain," but tasted more like cardboard than anything else. Shilo didn't mind; she'd had far too much experience being hungry lately to care much how things tasted.
Graverobber, however, chose to be more discerning. He peered disdainfully at the nutrition bar and shoved it aside. He got to his feet and also headed to the bathroom, and by the time he came out Shilo had wolfed down the first bar and was working on a second.
Graverobber shook his head and retrieved his shirt from the side of the bed. As he pulled it on, he said, "I can't believe you're actually eating that thing."
"It's not bad," said Shilo truthfully. "And I'll take it over nothing. Does Darby even live here? There's hardly anything in the kitchen."
"This is her place," said Graverobber. He fished around for his boots and yanked them on. "But she's not always here. She moves around the city a lot. She doesn't have the kind of job where you work out of an office."
"Kind of like drug dealing, like that," said Shilo dryly. Graverobber smiled.
Shilo ate her breakfast in silence as Graverobber put on his coat, fastened his satchel over his shoulder, and pulled his hair back into a half-ponytail. Finally, Shilo grew tired of the quiet, and asked, "How did you meet Darby?"
Graverobber paused. Like the burn on his arm, this wasn't a topic he wanted to discuss with her, or with anyone. He and D made it a point to never talk about it. So he opted for evasiveness. "Did you ask her?"
"Yes," said Shilo. "And she was about to tell me, and then you interrupted."
He'd done that on purpose, of course. Yeah, you're welcome, D. Graverobber shrugged and gave the shortest explanation he could: "We met. The end."
Shilo sighed in annoyance. "Would it kill you to give me details?"
"Might," Graverobber answered calmly. "Won't know until I give you any, will I?"
Shilo wrinkled her nose and sulked. "It's not like what she did say made any sense. All she said was, 'I will show you fear in a handful of dust,' and I have no idea what that was supposed to mean."
"That sounds familiar," said Graverobber thoughtfully. The line struck a chord in his memory, but he couldn't quite place it.
"It's from T.S. Eliot's The Waste Land," said Shilo. When Graverobber looked at her in surprise, she shrugged. "My dad liked poetry. I could never get into it."
Graverobber smiled to himself. He'd never liked poetry much, either.
He picked up Shilo's bag and brought it over to her. She took it and stuffed the extra nutrition bar inside. She then poured herself a glass of water and drank it while Graverobber leaned on the counter.
"At least tell me how her face got like that?" asked Shilo, unable to contain her curiosity. "I asked her—"
"Good for you."
"—but she lied and said she insulted Amber," continued Shilo, ignoring him.
"No, that actually happened," Graverobber told her. "She called Amber an ugly fat cow and wondered why in the hell the SurGens couldn't fix that."
"She didn't!" gasped Shilo, her respect for Darby rising.
Graverobber grinned. "The look on Amber's face was great. Of course, her guards beat the shit out of D, but D says it was worth it."
"And that's how she got cut?" asked Shilo.
"No. That was years before." Shilo opened her mouth, no doubt to ask yet more questions, but Graverobber cut her off. "Kid, Darby's life is her business, and how I know her is my business. I'm not telling you every single solitary detail of our lives. So quit it, okay?"
Shilo glowered for a moment, then sighed, then nodded. Graverobber thought that was the end of it, but then Shilo said, "But—"
"Christ!" exclaimed Graverobber in exasperation. "Look, I'll buy you a real breakfast if you promise to stop nagging me."
The shift in Shilo's mood was palpable. "Okay," she said, grinning brightly. "No more nagging, I promise." She even sketched a cross over her heart.
It made Graverobber want to laugh. For all it annoyed him sometimes, her childish enthusiasm could be downright adorable. But he did his best to hide his amusement under a glower, and gestured toward the front door.
Shilo paused a moment longer. "Shouldn't we leave something for Darby?" she asked hesitantly. "I mean, she let us stay here and we did take her food."
Graverobber stared at her. She wanted to leave perfectly good money behind? Money they could use for more important things? He had to remind himself that up to this point, Shilo had lived a very sheltered life. No one who lived in Crucifixus would willingly surrender cash, and only Shilo's naïveté made her suggest such a thing. He refrained from rolling his eyes with difficulty.
"We're not leaving anything," he said as he went to the front door. "Don't pay for anything if you can get away with it, kid." He unlocked the door and opened it meaningfully—it was high time they got going.
Shilo paused another moment, then pulled one of the coins she'd gotten from Ferraro out of her bag and laid it surreptitiously on the counter. Then she hurried to the door, hoping that Graverobber hadn't noticed.
***BREAK***
Don't have too much to say about this one, really. Please review if you have some constructive criticism to offer, or even just if you want to say 'hi.' Reviews make Vespa happy. All flames will be forwarded to the ninja hit squad.