Chapter 12: Hurts Like A Bitch

"I'm not going anywhere! You can't make me!"

Ben pinched the bridge of his nose and frowned. "Alex, please, don't make a scene out of this."

She gritted her teeth and crossed her arms defensively, snarling, "Me? Why don't you take a break from being an asshole for a minute?"

It was past eleven o'clock, and they were outside the room Archer had been cooped up in the last five hours. Alex had been waiting with Maddy in a dingy room down the corridor, which was bare apart from a reeking sofa and a small table on which perched six empty paper cups stained with coffee. She was out hunting for more caffeine when she bumped into Ben.

"Look, they won't be letting him go any time soon," he argued, looking pointedly at two overweight policemen stuffing their faces with doughnuts through a window on their left. "You're wasting time here."

"I want to wait," she told him.

"Trust me love, you're better off not being seen with him here."

"But I'm his friend!"

Ben stared down at her sternly. "And you're lucky to have gone away with your name cleared of passport forgery. It could've been serious, Alex. It was stupid of you."

She huffed. "I did what I had to do. You don't understand, you don't know what happened."

"Well, you'll have to fill me in soon enough. I won't lie, Alex, this will be a hell of a case to fight. You'll have to trust me."

"In other words, I'll have to give you permission to boss me around," retorted Alex with a roll of her eyes.

She flinched when Ben brought a hand up to cup the side of her face, his green eyes trying to find hers as he said softly, "Do it for Archer, if not for me."

Something flared in her. Panic. Surprise. She looked away quickly and pushed his hand away as if it burned her. He knew. He knew she would do anything for Archer. Anything.

Ben smiled at her pleasantly, that bastard, and leant down to give her a peck on her cheek. He lingered by her ear and whispered, "I will win this case, Alex. I promise you that."

Alex put her hands on his shoulders, and shoved him backwards none too gently. She snapped, "That's the least you could do, your services don't exactly come cheap, do they?"

He had the gall to grin. "Go home, Alex. My driver's out front waiting for you."

She gave him the finger and walked away.

Archer narrowed his eyes when the door opened to let Benjamin Cooper in. He had seen the exchange outside just now from the gaps in the blinds, as if the dusty planes had been contorted one time too many by people spying by the window.

He did not like what he saw.

Ben closed the door behind him in a flourish. "Mr. Archer," he greeted briskly, his expensive shoes clicking on the dirty floor as he made his way to the table he was seated at.

"Benny boy," echoed Archer mockingly. "Are they gonna let me go anytime this year?"

"That, Danny," replied Ben pointedly as he sat down in the chair opposite Archer's. "Depends on how good your attorney is."

Archer smirked humourlessly. "So, how good are you?"

Cooper mirrored his smirk. "Very good, I assure you, Mr. Archer, very good indeed. In fact, I dare say that I am the best attorney you can get in a case like this."

He arched an eyebrow. "A case like this?"

"Oh, you know," said Ben vaguely, waving a hand about. "Diamonds, van de Kaap and the like."

Ah yes, Benjamin Cooper Senior.

"The 'pa must be pleased to know you're working against him," commented Archer with a cynical grin. He leaned forward and rested his palms on the table, his voice low. "Tell me, Cooper, why are you fighting this case? We both know it's not me you're trying to help."

The lawyer gave him a serene smile, and leaned back in his seat. "Let's just say I have some- vested interest in this case."

Archer didn't like the smile. "What vested interest might you be talkin' about?" he demanded.

The smile just got wider, and the answer was given in one simple, cryptic word.

"Alex."

It was almost four o'clock when he got back from the police station, and he felt like shit. He found the key to the door in one of Alex's boots, then quietly let himself into the apartment.

The TV was on, but muted, and on the couch was Alex, fast asleep.

Archer kicked his shoes off then walked across the hall to switch the TV off, plunging the flat into darkness. Turning to Alex's sleeping form, he was surprised to see that she was bundled in his duvet.

He just stared down at her for a while, his head bludgeoned by a dull headache and questions. Lots of questions.

Scooping Alex up, he made his way to his room, gently nudging the door open and stepped inside. He carefully put her on his bed, and upon contact with the soft surface she turned over to snuggle into one of the pillows. He spread the duvet out and tucked her in.

She sighed in her sleep, and it suddenly hit Archer that she smelled good. Good and clean.

He quickly took a shower, scrubbing himself clean of the shitty excuse of a day he just had. His eyes were heavy as he slipped into a pair of clean boxers while toweling his hair dry. Damned hair was still wet when he closed the door behind him, but the digital clock on his bedside table blinked, reminding him that it was way past bedtime.

He climbed into bed, pulling the covers up to his bare chest. He was going to sleep with his back to Alex, but sensing his warmth, she had nestled in close to him, a hand coming up to rest on his stomach.

So he moved in closer too, wrapped an arm around her waist, and slept better than he had for a while.

Alex opened her eyes. Archer was sleeping on his side, one hand under his pillow.

She yawned and closed her eyes.

Then they snapped open again when the fact that they were in the same bed hit her like a wall of bricks.

She didn't know if she was blushing or not, but all of a sudden she became aware of the stifling warmth, the hand on her hip, her hand on his chest.

How, in the name of Christ, did she end up here?

Not that she didn't like it- hell no. It was the stuff of her fantasies. And that was the problem. It just wasn't exactly- what's the word?- ugh, it was too damned early- ah, yes, platonic.

Archer made it pretty clear that that was what they were all about. Their relationship was purely platonic. She saved his life, he took care of her, that was it. Besides, it wasn't like he was interested. He loved someone else.

She breathed out through her nose and, steeling herself, shifted towards him. Goddamnit, he wasn't wearing his usual vest on top, and he was so warm. She froze when he sighed, and a heavy leg fell on hers. Eyes wide, she stared at his face, scared that he would wake up to catch her gawking, but somehow her sleep-clouded mind would not let her look away.

It was so easy to forget all the crap that happened the day before now that she was here, her cheek resting on his shoulder, watching him sleep from underneath messy bangs that fell over her right eye. She hated to be clichéd, and her brain was working like a damned teenage romance novel right now, but he looked so peaceful in his sleep.

He had let down his guard around her from the sheer amount of time they spent together, but he always had an edge to him. As in the pulling-gun-from-backpocket kind of edge. She guessed Sierra Leone would always live in him, even though he was thousands of miles away.

It comforted her somehow that he slept alright at night.

She didn't want him to wake up yet. He really had to sleep off those dark circles under his eyes. And her selfish bit liked that she had him all to herself. There was no Maddy, no court case, no uncertain futures, no asshole Ben.

She hated real life.

Moving even closer, Alex curled up against his chest and closed her eyes, breathing out deeply. A hand snaked up her upper back and held her flush against him, his chin came to rest on the top of her head.

She smiled and let herself be lulled into sleep by the rise and fall of his chest.

There was a shrill ring of the telephone, the rumble of footsteps, and Alex's very loud and irritated voice.

"He's asleep. Call later." A pause. "I don't want to talk to you. Fuck off."

That'd be Ben Cooper on the other line then.

Then came a particular piercing screech. "Don't fucking call me that!"

Archer groaned and rolled over on his stomach. He cracked one eye opened and peered at the empty bed. The curtains were drawn, but the afternoon light cast the room in an orangey light.

It was almost three in the afternoon, so he sat up and swiveled to put his feet on the carpeted ground. Damn, he needed some water. He felt as dry as a crisp.

He shuffled out of his room in just his boxers after failing in his quest to find a clean shirt. Alex looked up from her perch by the kitchen counter with a small smile, then lapsed into a dark scowl before barking into the phone, "Look I'll call you later," and hung up.

"Hey," he rasped, a bit conscious of his state of undress.

Alex slurped on her juice and asked, "How ya feeling?"

He made a stop at the washing machine and pulled a face. He didn't have time to put the clothes in the dryer. Well, no time like the present, he supposed.

"A bit dry," he replied, busying himself with his task of transferring half-wet laundry into the drying machine. "Not too bad."

"What time did you get back?"

"'Bout four," he grunted, tossing a vest and some jeans to the side he planned to wear later.

"Sleep well?"

Which reminded him of the fact that they slept in the same bed last night.

He paused and looked up, but she wasn't looking at him. He turned and said, "Yeah. I, uh, hope you don't mind that-" He stopped abruptly. Fuck's sake, how did you go about asking if a girl too young for you if she minded that she slept next to you last night, a diamond smuggler currently on bail?

'Cause he didn't mind. Not at all.

Alex arched an eyebrow, setting her glass down to stare at him. She wasn't making this easy for him.

"Nevermind," he grumbled at long last, quickly finishing up his laundry duties. "I'm just gonna go put some clothes on."

Alex watched with a frown as he hurried away to his room. Well, someone obviously wasn't too pleased about last night's sleeping arrangements.

She hopped off the stool and tried hard to fight the hurt that was blooming in her chest.

"Excuse me for not being Maddy Bowen," she muttered under her breath and ran the glass under the tap.

She turned off the tap and grasped the edge of the counter, a little bit out of breath.

Then she realised with a panic that she wanted to cry.

"What the fuck," she growled angrily. She closed her eyes and pressed a firm hand to her forehead.

What was wrong with her? Just because he carried her to his bed didn't mean anything. He probably did it just because she stole his duvet and he was too tired to make two trips. God, she felt so damn stupid. As if sleeping in the same bed would change anything.

She heard his door open, and the slap of his bare feet on the marble floor. She took a deep breath and went on about with finding some lunch from the fridge.

He seemed completely oblivious to her emotional turmoil, and stationed himself on a stool behind her. "Hungry?"

"Uh huh," she answered lightly. "Are you in the mood to whip up some lunch, or should we order curry?"

"Don't worry, I'll cook," he offered, while she was still stubbornly sticking her head in the fridge. "I stocked up at Waitrose yesterday, before- y'know."

"I could tell," she said, picking out the sausages and bacon. "It's never too late for a big breakfast."

She finally turned and he grinned. He looked so bloody good in jeans.

They worked in amicable silence, him readying the pots and pans and her cutting open the meat packages.

She nearly jumped out of her skin when he moved behind her to get eggs and butter from the fridge, his torso grazing her back. It must be the goddamn hormones.

Butter sizzled as she cracked the eggs into the small saucepan and set it on the stove. She smiled at the scent of hot butter.

Archer broke the silence as he cooked the sausages. "Did Cooper call just now?"

"Yeah," she replied stiffly. She fished for the button mushrooms in the bottom drawer of the fridge. She toed the drawer shut and glanced at him to find him staring. "What?"

"Just wondering if my attorney wanted to talk to me," he smiled, seemingly amused by her snappiness.

"Possibly," she said noncommittally, reaching for the chopping board and a small knife.

Archer gave her a quizzical look, but didn't say anything else. She started slicing the mushrooms.

"I asked Cooper why he took the case."

The knife hovered uncertainly for a second, but then resumed its downward course. Alex stared hard at the off-white mushrooms and kept her mouth shut.

"He said something about 'vested interests'."

She was slightly relieved. Trust Ben to make up some bullshit to avoid uncomfortable questions.

She snorted. "Really? What kind of vested interests was he talking about?"

Archer shifted his feet, and she stopped to peer at him from the corner of her eye. He looked slightly nervous.

"He said it was you."

Alex's hand slipped and she nearly took off her own finger. Hands shaking, she pretended to be unperturbed and went on with her chore.

"Alex."

She ignored him.

"Alex."

She only stopped when his hand took hold of her left wrist.

"What did he mean by that, Alex?"

She wouldn't answer him. She couldn't.

Sighing, he turned off the gas and gently hooked a finger under her chin, turning her head to face him.

"Alex, look at me."

She couldn't, fuck it.

"Are you ignoring me now?"

She pushed his hand away and spun around, then attempted to make a run for it. But he was quicker, and before she knew it he'd twisted her around and she was caught in his hard stare.

"Let me go," she said, gritting her teeth.

Archer shook his head. "Not till you tell me what's going on. You can't keep me in the dark, Alex. What 'vested interests' was Cooper talking about?"

She felt stupid, so, so stupid. It was even worse when he was here, his hands gripping her wrists, looking so expectantly at her. Then he had to go and say in that sincere, guilty voice of his.

"If he's talking about money, I swear Alex, I'll pay you back when I get my share-"

Something in her snapped. Money. Paying her back. Of course, she was a benefactor, a patron. That was it. She really should have started getting used to the idea.

She roughly shook him off and snapped, "Stop it! I told you, I don't fucking want your money!"

Archer looked slightly alarmed at her outburst, then he scowled. "Then tell me what he was talking about!"

"It doesn't concern you," she snarled.

He wasn't going to be shaken off that easily. "It does, I have a right to know! Is it so bad that you can't tell me?"

Was it so bad? Fuck yes. It was bad. It was disastrous.

Alex opened her mouth to ask him not to be angry, but she snapped it shut. Why would he be angry? He wouldn't give a shit. Damnit, she wanted to cry again. And now he had to go and look all worried.

"I'm getting married," she blurted out.

He didn't say anything for a long, long time. So she kept her gob shut. She just stared at her toes and hoped that somehow she could disappear. Then she started wishing he would say something because he just stood there.

When he spoke, the scorn and disgust was more than obvious in his voice.

"To Ben Cooper?"

She felt it then. Shame. Embarrassment. Guilt.

Biting her lips, she nodded.

Her hands fell to her sides when he abruptly let go. She didn't dare look up, she didn't want to see his face.

She did anyway when he yelled, "Are you fucking insane? You hate him!"

He was angry. Good, he was angry. Actually, he was furious. She hadn't seen him that angry since she caught her stealing in the tent at the airstrip. His upper lip was drawn back in a snarl, his fists clenched, and he was… still shouting at her.

"I don't get this," he told her with a humourless bark of laughter. "So you're paying him by marrying him?"

"Yeah."

That single word seemed to feed fuel to the fire. Not that she meant to sound so nonchalant.

Archer looked at her unbelievingly. "Yeah? Wow, that's wonderful news, darling. Glad to know that you're willing to throw your life away to save mine. I'm touched, really."

Alex glared at him, her mouth kicking into action, yelling angrily, "Well I'm so fucking sorry for trying to help! I thought you'd need it!"

He wheeled around, and proceeded to prowl the living room, a murderous scowl on his face. See? Real life sucked. Big time.

"You know, a thank you would be nice right now," she bit out sarcastically.

He ignored her and prowled some more.

She huffed. "He's your only chance, Archer-"

"Why do you care?"

Alex folded her arms and scoffed, "Is that a trick question?"

Archer traced his footsteps to stand in front of her again. "Why do you care if I go free or not?"

"I'm your friend, Archer."

He shook his head. "Not good enough."

Christ, now he was staring down at her with those blue eyes of his, as if he was trying to bully the truth out of her. But the truth terrified her, and she knew him well enough that he would push her away if she ever said it. So she lied.

"I want to help you," she said lamely.

Archer's lips curled into a harsh smile. He stepped closer to her and bent down slightly, so that he was talking right into her face.

"I told you before, Miss Devereaux," he hissed, his voice so cold that he sounded like a completely different man. "We are very similar people. We don't do something unless we get something out of it."

She flinched and tried to shrink back, but one hand shot out and steely fingers curled round her wrist, holding her in place. She didn't want to hear this, she didn't need to hear this.

"So tell me, Alexis-"

"Shut up!" she shrieked, squeezing her eyes shut.

He went on mercilessly. "What do you think you'll get out of this? Hmm? That maybe, somehow, I'll return your feelings? Maybe I'll forget about Maddy and follow you around like some lovesick idiot?"

Oh God. That hurt. It hurt like a slap to the face.

"Let me go!" she screamed, thrashing to get away from Archer and his very cold eyes.

And suddenly, he was kissing her. She was crying, and his hands were in her hair; she was trying to catch her breath, and he had moaned as he swiped his tongue across the cavern of her mouth. Then he'd pulled away, breathing heavily, malice lacing his every word as he snarled, "Is that payment enough for your kindness?"

She slapped him then. She drew her hand back and slapped him with all she got.

"I hope that hurt, asshole," she hissed.

He gave her a grim grin, and drawled, "Don't worry darlin', it hurt like a bitch."

Without another word, he stormed across the room and was out of the apartment, slamming the heavy oak door behind him. Alex stood for a long while in the middle of the living room. Her hand still tingled from the slap.

Archer was right. It hurt like a bitch.

It's late, I should be in bed, and I should've edited this before I posted this. However, I think I've kept everyone waiting for long enough, and you deserve this update. It's very raw, I'm still reeling from typing up the last part. Thank you for the wonderful reviews, I hope you enjoyed this one!