It is unmistakable, the roaring crash that rattles the thin windows in her bedroom. Its volume is enough to startle her awake, her naked body surging forward as her heart slammed dramatically beneath skin and bone. The dark room lit up seconds later with the white light of lightning, the sound of the angry rains beyond the walls slowly creeping to her attention. It takes her a moment to adjust, to calm the brief fear that had grabbed at her.

Shifting she looks over at the man knocked out on the bed beside her, undisturbed neither by the storm nor her jolting fright. A roar from the sky rumbles the glass once again, and the flash of light over his face unexpectedly caused her to suck in a breath, unable to release it as her mind began to resemble Mother Natures wrath. Bruised and swollen, in his rest, he still managed to take on a look of innocence that nearly left him unrecognizable.

When she can let go of the air that she had sucked in, she looks away before another strike across the dark skies can attempt to deceive her. She moves, throwing her legs over the edge of her bed. Her body aches in protest, sore in places only Ajax could bruise. She sighs, finding her clothing and pulling it on. The fan in the corner oscillated between the two spaces on the bed, the small breeze a comfort in the heavy heat that still lingered from the daylight hours.

Before she leaves the room, she pulls the knob on the back of the fan, locking it in place on Ajax. In her kitchen she makes oatmeal and coffee, tuning the small radio on just enough to hear. She didn't know what it was that played, but it was comforting - as was the cigarette she'd lit up while she waited for water to boil. She fucked up, she had decided as she looked in the direction of her bedroom.

For two months he was nowhere in her life. At the drop of a out of nowhere phone call she used her goddamn rent money to bail him out of jail for god knows what - and she knew it wasn't something she wanted to know. She wasn't going to get that money back. Panic filled her, but it was well contained as she puffed on the fag held between her fingers. Jesus, what was it about that man that made her a complete idiot?

Adrienne is sitting at the small table in her kitchen with her plain oatmeal and creamless coffee - not how she liked it, but when you spend your rent money on the dumbest shit ever, groceries weren't even being thought of - when she hears movement in her bedroom. He emerges not long after, wearing only his pants, filthy and torn, "How do you eat that shit?"

She isn't surprised by his rough tone, nor is she offended, "Well, first I take a spoon, then I scoop a little up and put it in my mouth. Like so." She demonstrates, her green eyes never leaving the blue of his, even as they narrow in that dangerous way.

"Little smart bitch, ain't ya?" he snarks, casually going through her cabinets and fridge like he lived with her.

Smarter than you, she wants to say, but bites her tongue. She didn't want a fight. No, she just wanted to relax, but that was impossible when her rent was due in two days, "James…that money…"

His head snaps in her direction so fast it's surprising he didn't get whiplash, the blue of his eyes darkening, "I told you already. I'll get it."

Adrienne doesn't back down from his stare, her lips a tight frown, "Please don't kill anyone for it."

His smirk unsettles her, her oatmeal becoming as unappetizing as Ajax found it to be, "Might have to bust a few heads babe. But I ain't gunna kill no one less I have ta."

It doesn't make her feel any better about the situation. She now had maybe a smidge of confidence she was going to be able to keep living in her apartment, but she was already feeling guilty that someone, or multiple someones, that may or may not be innocent were going to get hurt because of her. If he killed someone, that be her fault too. Yet, as she looked at him, her guilt was overwhelmed by that same relief she had when she'd heard his voice on the other end of the phone, "Are you staying long?"

"Gotta check in with the warlord," the way he says it makes Adrienne believe he wasn't particularly fond of whoever that was, "Let the boys know I'm good. Come back afterwards with your money…maybe crash for another night. I don't know yet. Lotta shit went down the other night."

"Yeah…it was hard to sleep that night, the morning before you called. Nothing but sirens and screaming, and breaking glass." How she hated what he was, what the city was like. The police, they didn't have the control they'd like people to believe they had. New York City, it was ruled by the people, by gangs.

"As long as you stay out of the shit, you ain't got shit to worry about."

There is almost a warning in his tone. It wasn't the first time he had said something like that to her, and in that particular way. He kept her out of whatever the Warriors were, whatever the other gangs out on the streets were, "I ain't interested, and you know it. I shouldn't even be here, with you."

They share a long stare, then he is moving, taking the only other chair at her table, his head tilting to the side as he studied her features, "Still got them books?"

Adrienne knows instantly what he is talking about, slowly her lips curl into a smile, "I do."

"Well," he says with agitation, "Go on, go get them woman."

She doesn't hesitate, taking a moment to empty her wasted food and place the bowl in the sink. The kitchen and living area were all one room, and it is by the tv she retrieves a book with a feather sticking out from it. Salem's Lot. She had read it several times, but it was the first book without large print and pictures that Ajax had read to her.

Their thing, it was very much built on a physical platform, but they shared other things besides bite marks and banter. Ajax couldn't read when they first met, not well anyways. It shouldn't have surprised her, but it did. She remembers laughing and feeling like the worst person in the world for it, and Ajax, he got angry. What had nearly been a fight of catastrophic proportions, resulted in Adrienne offering to teach him.

That hadn't gone down well either, but a few weeks later they were reading together almost as much as they were fucking. Adrienne brings her chair closer to his, settling in and giving him a sideways glance, "Do you want to start it over from the beginning? Or are you fine to continue where we left off?" Two months. The thought rang in her head, and yet here they were, as if a fifth of the year hadn't separated them.

He glowers at her, taking the book much more harshly than necessary, opening it up to where the peacock feather sat, discarding it on the table. For a long moment, his eyes scan the two pages, Adrienne endlessly patient and sipping her now cold and very bitter coffee, "God grant me the…" his tone carries off, his eyes studying the word on the page.

Adrienne moves in nearer, finding his place, "Serenity."

"Serenity to a…to accept what I can not change, the ten…"

"Tenacity. Exactly how it looks."

"The tenacity to change what I may." He stops then, looks away from the book to meet her eyes, "The fuck is tenacity?"

"A good example would be you. You're tenacious. Determination, persistence. That's all it means." she smiles then, "This is actually a good one for ya. 'God grant me the serenity to accept what I cannot change, the tenacity to change what I may, and the good luck not to fuck up too often."

"You being slick?"

She rolls her eyes, but her smile never falters, "No babe, lets keep going, you're doing great."