A/N: Since so many of you guys have added my little fic to your Story Alerts I thought I'd be really nice and update early. I know I'm super... j/k :P It's just a wee short chapter but it will leave you wanting more (y'all might hate me for the ending... ;) ) The most awesome beta ever needs some major props so here's to Dean'sAngel17... She's badass!
They ran to the cafe and as she was shaking off the rain she looked around and saw that they were the only patrons there who weren't truckers. It wasn't very late, but the bad weather had brought a handful of tired looking men with greasy hats, stubbled chins and wrinkled jeans in out of the forbidding night. There was a very old looking woman, she was sure her name was Rhonda, working behind the counter who smiled at Jasper, but gave Alice a frown as the door closed. She didn't know why the old dear didn't like her, but she always seemed to have a scowl for her when she came in. She forgot all about Rhonda when she saw the vision before her, all long legs and graceful movements as he tucked himself into a booth by the window in the corner, away from the draught of the door.
Almost as soon as they had sat down a pretty young waitress - Myra - came over with a pad, her hips swishing and her pink lips pouting, she twirled her hair and smiled down at them, ready to take their order.
"Can I get you folks anything? You want to hear the specials?"
He hadn't looked at her as she approached; he was busy looking out of the window, the neon sign outside streaking his face with red and green light. He barely looked up at her now, with her tiny hat pinned onto her hair and her little apron tied around her waist.
"Just a coffee, please darlin'."
"I'll take a coffee and a slice of pie, please."
"We got lemon meringue or cherry."
"Cherry will be fine, thanks."
"That's all for you folks?"
"It sure is darlin'."
He said this in a friendly way but still never looked at her for more than a millisecond; he was fiddling with the sugar dispenser.
She walked away dejectedly; how dare he not notice her tiny waist and her pretty face, her big eyes and shapely legs that ran out from under her too short skirt.
"So, Missy, you know this place well?"
He smiled at her over the table and she noticed how he looked more comfortable spread out over the long plastic covered seat than he did in the front seat of her car.
"I know it pretty well. Sometimes when I'm out driving I like to come here and sit, I like to watch people coming and going. It's interesting."
"I do that too, watch people I mean. I like to make up little stories about their lives, its kinda fun, you know? Just pretending you know all about them."
"Really? So what's mine?"
"Your story? Oh, well now... You're just like a Bonnie Parker for the modern times, on the lamb from the law, after robbing a store a couple of states over. Now you've come back home, just looking in on the folks you miss, but not staying long enough to be noticed or recognised. You're looking for your Clyde, to help you in your grand schemes, for sure enough, you hate to fire guns. You only came back here to this cafe, because it's the place you used to come with your friends when you were younger, when you planned to run away from this crappy little town, marry a rich man and get famous. You wanna die in the arms of your man, doing something grand and exciting and romantic... Either that or you were out on an errand and found me in the rain, didn't want to go home to an empty house where you'd watch the TV, feed the cat and go to bed early. You'd rather be here with me, talking about your dreams of exploring and your love of roadside cafes for the lonely pursuit of people watching."
"You know, you're right on the money! I am on the lamb from the law and looking for my Clyde, but I don't own a cat and I don't wanna be famous."
She laughed, really laughed, until it made her stomach hurt.
The waitress had placed two steaming mugs in front of them and was just returning with pie. She smiled at the two of them (perhaps she wasn't bothered about not being noticed after all). Jasper smiled up at her, said thanks and she swished happily away.
He was laughing along with Alice and the sound of his laughter made her tummy flutter, it was a deep genuine laugh that came from his chest and made his green eyes sparkle.
"I knew you were a funny one."
"I like to think so."
She giggled away like a schoolgirl. It was strange how comfortable it felt to be relaxing and joking with him. it felt good to let out some of the tension of her day, but it made her kind of sad to think that she could feel so dead at home and she had to find a stranger to make her feel alive again.
"So what's your story?"
"I'm not sure I have a very interesting story; I'm just an ordinary guy, travelling and glad to get away from everything back home. I went out for a walk one day a few months back and just kept on walking. I hitched for a bit when it was too cold or dark. I been doin' odd jobs here and there, sometimes getting paid, sometimes for food or a bed for the night. I'm good with livestock and fixin' things. I walked over the state line a few days ago and I've been bummin' around looking for work since."
"My goodness! That's wild! You don't have anything with you? No food or clothes?"
"I've got my wallet, my keys and my pack, that's all I really need."
"Won't anyone be worried about you, back home?"
"I wouldn't think so. My daddy's been gone since I was 18. He died out in Africa, hunting cheetahs. The whole hunting party, gone, like POOF! Momma, she died last year from emphysema; too many smokes is what the doc said. That only leaves my girl, but I wouldn't bet on her caring. I'm pretty sure I can say she's not my girl anymore. She decided to run off with a drinking buddy of mine. Let's just say he's not gonna be drinking for a while."
He winked and flashed a smile that would charm the devil himself.
"S'ok though, Missy. I'm havin' a ball right about now. There's no other place in the world I'd rather be than right here with you right now in this moment. I've been making up so many stories recently it's nice to find someone who can share mine."
"How much of your story is made up?"
"It's no fun if I tell."
She had the urge to tell him everything, all about her life, and have him tell her everything about his; share each and every secret, every wish and dream. She knew that she could easily buy into his lonely traveller charade, be fooled into believing that he was what he said he was, scoop him up and whisk him away in her car, living out of motels and never returning to this life. She knew that he could be her Mr Barrow, if she had a mind to be his Bonnie. He had created a nice image for himself, and it was a vivid fantasy he'd dreamt up for her.
She wasn't about to tell him about her real life and she didn't fancy being the home alone girl so she decided to just go with it, follow where he led and see where she was in the morning.
"Have you travelled to any exotic places?"
"Nah, I'm not too exotic. I visited the Alamo one time, very humbling, I'd say. I been to England too, I don't think that's very exotic though. I saw Glastonbury Tor, it was cool. There's an eternal spring there that they say runs red because of the blood of Christ... I dunno about that, but it was definitely an experience."
"What happened?"
"My father wanted to take my picture but I didn't really want to, so we set up the shot and I splashed the water toward the camera. I was told to be more respectful and quit acting the horse's ass. So when he wasn't watching, I found a pretty English babe and made out with her behind the Abbey. I took photos of that, and there wasn't anything respectable about them."
"I could just imagine."
And she did imagine. In her head, he and his pretty English Rose were doing a lot more than just kissing. She imagined the youthful pair; her hair mussed, blouse undone, revealing a lacy brassiere and milky white skin, skirt pushed up dangerously high while his fumbling hands crept higher than the hem, one of her legs wrapped around the back of his, straining against each other's mouths. Then the face of the girl became her own and she saw herself bucking hard against his hand, grinding her arousal down onto him, grasping him, pulling him closer. She saw his head dip to her breasts, nuzzling softly through the thin material; she let her head fall back against the ancient stones and moaned.
Pulling herself out of her delightful daydreams, she blushed hard and he cocked an eyebrow at her, grinning wolfishly.
"So, you've never been to any other places?"
She hurriedly asked, and took a small bite of her pie so she had something to focus on rather than the evident heat in her cheeks.
"Nope, I'm a stay at home kinda guy. I'd rather explore the good ol' U S of A before I widen the net, you know?"
He smiled and she believed that she could fall in love with him. She couldn't help but smile back, for who could resist such a charm; the lustful pull of someone who is so very experienced at seduction but that still has the face of a choir boy?
"I always wanted to travel Britain, with its quaint little villages, the chocolate box houses with gingerbread trims, the thatched roofs and wooden beams. I always wanted to be in the bustling crowds of London, in the rain! I always wanted to see the lush landscape get greener as you go north, through all manner of tiny hamlets and crossing the border into Scotland. There are mountains and lochs and secret glens, there are monsters and faeries that live there still. I'm pretty sure my ancestors came from the highlands of Scotland, where the land is harsh, and the weather is worse, but the people are warm and caring! I'd love to see it. I hate this place! Oh, to get away from here, to get out of this country, I'd love to get on a plane and see everything!"
Her face was animated and her hands were flying about with the passion she felt. Her cheeks were pink, her black hair gleaming in a little halo around her head in the fluorescent lights. Her beautiful big eyes were sparkling. She wasn't sure if this little desperate tirade was necessary. She had no real reason to be so full of loathing but she was and she hated the fact that she meant every word, totally. She stared down at her plate, trying to slow her pulse. She changed the subject.
"You want to try some of this? It's really good."She motioned toward the last bits of cherry pie on her plate. He nodded and looked coy. She grinned and speared a piece on her fork holding it out to him thinking he'd take the fork but he just opened his mouth. She laughed and fed him the pie. He chewed it thoughtfully for a few moments, then in over-dramatic fashion he rolled his eyes back in his head and murmured through pastry 'mmm mmm oooh mmm!' She laughed and laughed, swatting him lightly on the arm to get him to stop. His pantomime was very realistic, as if he were reaching some nirvana of culinary ecstasy. He swallowed and started giggling like a child.
"That is real good!"
She just stuffed another forkful into his mouth and laughing still followed suit with the last crumbs into her own mouth. She thought of the famous restaurant scene with Meg Ryan, but couldn't bring herself to act it out, not even for a laugh. She drank down half of her coffee in a swallow and watched as he drained his cup.
She fell to staring at him, taking in the details of his face, committing them to memory. The little crinkles at the corners of his eyes as he giggled, and the way his eyelashes seemed to brush his cheeks when he gazed into his coffee cup, the dimple in his cheek when he grinned, the strong jaw with a few days worth of growth, broad chest and wide shoulders that were framed by his now nearly dry shirt.
She thought that though he had dried out quite a bit, his jeans must still be sodden.
"I know how this is going to sound, but do you want to get out of those clothes? I feel terrible that you're sitting there still wet."
"I'm fine really, but it may be a good idea, just so that I can get properly warm."
The twinkle was back in his eyes and she felt the same rolling in her tummy that she felt when he laughed and when she thought of his hands on her skin. There couldn't be any mistaking his look, it wasn't hard to interpret. She threw 10 dollars on the table and grabbed her coat. She was up and out of the door before she had a chance to think about what she was doing. She had the urge to look back, just to make sure that he was really there and she wasn't dreaming but she could practically feel the press of his body onto her own and knew if she turned they would be sharing the same air. The pretty waitress looked up at the sudden activity and smiled knowingly. The old woman behind the counter just clucked her tongue and shook her head.
A/N: So let me know what you think and I might even give you the next chapter early too... its full of lemony goodness. You know you want it. Hit the button. *hugs* Romana x
A/N: not a single review... makes me a sad bunny :( just one review and the new chapter goes up... go on, hit the button, even if it's to say it's crap... all criticism is constructive as long as you can back it up :) First reviewer gets a preview of chapter 4 too :D