Almost finished. Phew. Already working on a new story, since my "fantasy" Obliquity is quickly becoming more of a horror of sorts than the epic fantasy thing I initially had in mind. But after re-watching the Game of Thrones finale, listening to Rihanna's Sledgehammer and anxiously awaiting Star Trek Beyond, some weird seed was planted inside of my brain. Not sure if anyone wants to read it, but I'm giving it a go anyway. And in the meantime, there are still two/three Amative chapters to go. Such fun!

I wanted to keep the original chapter 6 and added some. Thought about splitting it in two, but then remembered I promised you all some Jasper & Eleanor interaction, so it wouldn't be fair to do that to you. Also, we've seen Jasper getting his feelings and thoughts straight, but I don't think Eleanor's ready yet to fully admit nor commit to her feelings for him. Not in the way he is, anyway.

Still, I hope you will enjoy this chapter, even though some of you will recognize most of it. And yes, it obviously needs editing. But one day, some day, I will get to that.

Chapter 8. Everything

Two days after their talk, Robbie was banging on his door, bottle of whiskey in one hand and Liam in tow. They barged through the doorway, took seats in the living room like they belonged there and had opened the bottle of 26 years old Glenfiddich before he even had time to close the front door again.

'Sit down,' the Heir apparent ordered and of course, stubbornly, Jasper remained standing. In his own home. Liam grinned knowingly, but he ignored the younger Henstridge. He'd rather stand than take orders from Robert.

'Twice in two days,' Jasper muttered. 'Should I be worried?'

'You tell me,' Robert grinned. He had made himself comfortable on the sofa, holding up the bottle of whiskey.

'Get some glasses, Mr. Frost,' he said. 'It's Friday night and we're going to have a boy's night.'

Jasper shared a look with Liam, but then shrugged and sat down on the armchair. Because he wanted to. Certainly not because Robbie had ordered it.

'I never decline a glass of good whiskey,' Jasper said solemnly, looking Robbie straight in the eye. 'Get some glasses, Liam.'

The younger Prince sighed but dutifully made his way into the kitchen.

'Top cabinet on the right,' Jasper called after him, and Liam returned with three whiskey glasses in hand.

'What are you doing here?' Jasper asked, while Liam filled the glasses. Robert took the first and immediately brought it to his mouth. He sighed content as he downed the contents in one go.

'Robbie!' Liam scolded him. 'This one needs to be savoured. Respect the whiskey.'

As a response Robert took the other glass – 'apologies, Frost,' he said without sounding sincere – and finished it in one shot as well.

'Bloody alcoholic,' Liam muttered, refilling the empty glasses and making sure to slide one towards Jasper before Robert had the chance to grab it again.

He leaned back and grinned.

'I just wanted to see you,' Robbie said and Jasper almost snorted, because honestly, I just wanted to see you. Had Eleanor told him?

And Liam smiled. 'Isn't it amazing! My best mate and brother together, drinking whiskey like they weren't just rolling around on the floor less than ninety-six hours ago.'

He clapped them both on the back and Jasper had the distinct suspicion Liam had already been drinking. That, or he was simply an idiot.

Robert scoffed.

'Since when's this one your best mate, then?'

'Since he became my bodyguard,' Liam said defensively. 'So be prepared, because you are next on his best-mates-list.'

And Jasper felt like he was missing a vital part of the conversation, but he didn't really care much for it. He looked at Robert, then at Liam, and was again perplexed by the fact that Liam looked absolutely nothing like both his siblings. Light hair against dark. Smiles against smirks. Enthusiasm versus sarcasm. Liam almost looked like an angel compared to those two devils, Robert and Eleanor.

'Did you know, Jasper,' Liam started, 'that it's less than a month until Robbie's coronation?'

Jasper made a non-committal sound, taking a sip from his whiskey.

'In less than a month he'll have no freedom whatsoever, will be forced to attend utterly boring and stuffy meetings with equally boring and stuffy people, mum will be fully on his back about finding him a wife, probably already has a few potential ones lined up and of course –'

But Robbie held up a finger and shushed him.

'You can stop,' he said. 'I think we all get your point. Besides, I think it's in your favour to stop emphasizing all the redeeming qualities of Kingship. Before you know it, I might abdicate in favour of you. Hashtag King Liam...?'

Liam laughed and held up his hands in defeat.

'Point taken,' he laughed. 'But still. This might be one of Robbie's last nights out of the Palace and I thought it would be nice to spend it with you.'

'For reasons unknown to me,' Robert added dryly, as if he hadn't been the one banging on Jasper's door just a few minutes ago.

And to me,' Jasper added. 'Unless there are plans of giving me another black eye? Then I completely understand.'

He raised an eyebrow at Robbie.

'Eleanor's not here now,' he continued. 'So I can't promise to not fight back.'

'Yeah,' Robbie nodded. 'That would be a fool proof way back into my sister's good graces, beating up her beloved brother.'

'Actually,' Liam exclaimed. 'That might not be such a bad idea.'

He turned to Jasper. 'Robbie's not exactly our sister's most favourite person at the moment.'

'Because you tried to beat me up,' Jasper presumed, and if that was true, it was a good sign, but Robbie shook his head knowingly.

'You'd wish,' the Prince said. 'Unfortunately for you, I'm not in her good graces at the moment because I'm going to offer you a job.'

Jasper stared at him, frowned and turned to Liam. Both brothers were looking at him expectantly, Liam with barely concealed glee, Robbie smug and self-satisfied. And he wondered whether they were shitting him, dangling a bone in his face, only for them to take it back again. But Liam seemed truly excited and Robbie completely bumptious, so it must be true.

'As what?' he asked, feigning disinterest. 'A toilet cleaner?'

He leaned back into the recliner, bringing his glass of whiskey to his mouth. It was a Rare Oak, its taste rich and complex. He let it swirl around in his mouth, before he swallowed. Vanilla and raisins. Overwhelming and deep, but not worth four hundred pounds, though. He didn't think Robbie nor Liam had thought twice before taking it from the cellar beneath the palace.

'He's serious,' Liam said. 'We are serious. Robbie, tell him.'

The silence that followed stretched a bit further than it should've, and Robbie looked thoughtful. Because he had just told Eleanor he wasn't going to fight her battles, but here he was, about to extend an invitation that would not only make Jasper Frost a part of his life, but also part of hers again. Shouldn't she have the right to decide that herself?

But then again, she hadn't opposed. She had said nothing to change his mind, had seemed strangely resigned to her fate and there was a small part of him that had percepted a faint sense of hope. Which was absolutely ridiculous, yet maybe it wasn't. Besides, even though she hadn't hidden her discontent, she hadn't explicitly told him to not do it. Coming from Eleanor, that was the same as telling him to actually do it. Passive aggressive and such.

'Liam wants Marcus back because he's an niggardly little shit, so I'm left without a bodyguard,' Robbie eventually started explaining. 'Which suits me just fine, I like my freedom and I cheated death once already, so I doubt there's much anyone can do to me, but the Queen Mother has been nagging me about it constantly and threatens to choose my next bodyguard herself if I don't find replacement before the coronation. And let's be honest, none of our current security personnel is up to par. Except of course Marcus.'

He shot Liam a nasty look and Jasper's lips curled slightly upwards in an amused grimace.

'You, however,' Robert continued, 'might do. Of course there's the risk of you having sexual relations with my mother and I must tell the maids to keep all objects of worth out of your reach and there will be no blackmailing my sister – 'and he almost grunted that last part and his eyes had hardened considerably '- but all in all I think we can have a very pleasant and fruitful relationship. As long as you do whatever the hell I tell you to.'

And for fuck's sake, they were really serious.

'You want me to become your bodyguard?' Jasper repeated.

Robbie looked at his brother, arching an eyebrow.

'Is he daft?'

Liam grinned, leaned forward to refill Jasper's almost empty glass.

'Exactly,' he said, ignoring Robert. 'He wants you to become his bodyguard.'

Jasper's free hand went up to the side of face, the swollen side, and he grinned wryly.

'So first he slams my eye shut and then he wants to employ me?'

'Details, details,' Robert waved his comment away. 'It's in the past. You really need to get over that, Frost, because otherwise it might threaten our working relationship.'

Jasper snorted softly. Ground his teeth together. Because he couldn't. Not like this.

'I can't take the job.'

He surprised not only Liam and Robbie with that answer, but also himself. But he knew he couldn't. He wanted another shot with her, but he couldn't just barge back into her life like that. Doing so would only help push her away from him.

'Oh please,' Robbie scoffed. 'I spoke to Eleanor already. She doesn't mind. And if you don't believe me, you could just ask her.'

Jasper half expected her to walk into the living room then, was already looking in the general direction of the front door and Robbie laughed.

'Are you sure he's not daft?' he asked Liam and both brothers laughed.

He turned back to Jasper.

'I have no doubt you'll say yes,' he said knowingly. 'And until that moment, let's just finish this bottle and entertain ourselves with stories of Liam's many unfortunate encounters with women. Always lively party-fodder.'

'You want to stay here then, in my house, and drink whiskey?' Jasper asked and he wasn't certain whether he was opposed or in favour of that prospect. He'd had no immediate plans for the night and he was unwilling to care too much about their sudden visit, not until later, preferably alone, hopefully ample intoxicated, and ready to really think about Robbie's offer. And perhaps show Robbie he was wrong to not doubt his answer.

On the other hand, he'd done crazier things than hang out with the Royal brothers. So perhaps he was in favour. Even though his eye still hurt.

But Liam shook his head. He clearly had no intentions of staying inside.

'I want to finish this bottle and then visit one of those places the people go,' he said and by the look on his face he wasn't entirely sure where he wanted to go, as long as they did not end up staying in Jasper's apartment. And in all honesty, Jasper was fine with that. The only person that had frequently visited his home in the past ten, eleven months had been Poppy. He was a private person, and now suddenly there was Robert, here for the second time, and Liam too. It was a bit much.

But he was rolling with it.

'Assuming you can still stand straight after this bottle is finished, you lightweight,' Robert said dryly and then continued to explain what it was Liam wanted, 'by those places people go, he means he wants to go to some shady shithole with bad music, bad lighting and bad beer to experience how the general rabble parties. And by general rabble, I mean plebeians. You know, people like you, Jasper.'

He couldn't even be insulted by Robert's words, suddenly too distracted by how much he sounded like Eleanor – because her pronunciation of rabble had the exact same lilt and Robert's Jasper sounded a bit more – or actually a lot – like Jaspuh than it was supposed to. And he missed her, but would working at the Palace again really be better than this?

'Where is the Princess anyway?' he asked and Robert snorted.

'Not about to walk through your front door anytime soon,' he answered, 'no matter how hard you try.'

And Jasper had an irrational urge to prove him wrong. But he pushed that competitive part of him down. It, among other things, hadn't worked in his favour regarding the Princess.

'I know some place,' he said instead. 'Bad music, bad lighting, good beer, though. And good people, too.'

It was Friday night after all. His mates from work would definitely be at the bar. And perhaps Poppy would be there too. If he brought the Henstridge boys he would certainly get back into her good graces somewhat. Poppy's unhealthy obsession with Liam had quite effortlessly expanded to include Robert as well after the birthday party, so she'd be thrilled. He wanted her to be thrilled. He felt like he owed her, though she had made it clear he didn't owe her anything. In their own twisted way they had ended it well. Perhaps they could've done so without less vomit from his part, but that last shower together had felt somewhat definitive, her scrubbing his back, cleansing him of everything that she was, and him, washing her hair, ridding her of him, because she deserved something fresh and new. And he apparently wanted something from his past, that was just as beautiful as they could've been.

Except Eleanor was better. She would always be better than anyone.

'Where's your detail?' he asked, suddenly aware there had been no inconspicuous black Range Rovers parked in his street, nor stone-faced men in suits placed on strategic corners.

'This idiot,' Robert piped up, 'managed to convince my bodyguard Marcus that we'd be quite safe in your company, since apparently to him you are Superman and amazingly good at guarding bodies. Which, might I add, isn't quite as reassuring as Marcus thought it would be.'

'Batman,' Jasper replied, stolid, and Liam laughed, remembering a conversation they had once had.

'Oh yes,' Liam admitted. 'Emotionally constipated and such. Definitely a Batman.'

'Well then, Bruce,' Robert said unimpressed. 'Show us your Batmobile.'

His matte black Audi was no Batmobile, but Liam seemed properly impressed and Robert murmured it would suffice.

They all piled into the car and Liam called shotgun, but was quite violently removed from the front seat by his brother, who, after he had dumped his brother unceremoniously on the tarmac, had the audacity to, with a flick of his hand and an arched eyebrow, make it quite clear that Jasper was supposed to take Liam's seat so he could take place behind the wheel.

Jasper wanted to argue, but instead clenched his jaw and lobbed the car keys at Robert. The Crown Prince's smirk was infuriating, Liam's boyish grin and telling eyes even more so.

When Liam giddily suggested they get a joint – and he said it with such youthful enthusiasm that Jasper couldn't even decline – and Robert happily agreed, saying that Jasper must know a guy, they had to take a detour, because yes, Jasper knew a guy, and sure, why not smoke a joint.

'The pot might not be up to your royal standard,' Jasper said, 'but it's good stuff.'

The guy was Jonathan's and the pot they sometimes smoked after shift had never been bad.

'Only Americans call it pot,' Liam smirked. 'It's just weed, you know.'

And perhaps the weed was a bit stronger than what the brothers were used to, because Liam was already smiling stupidly and Robert's eyes were suspiciously red.

He took that moment to send a quick text to Jonathan, informing him that despite telling him earlier he wanted a quiet night in, he'd be coming to the bar anyway and he'd be bringing two mates. Subtlety required.

He might as well have said nothing, because when they entered the bar and found his mates, there was a whole lot of shouting involved and Jonathan might or might not have pretended to faint straight into the Heir apparent's arms.

Robbie caught him skilfully, praise to him.

They all descended on the Henstridge brothers, boys and girls, and for a second Jasper was embarrassed, but then he noticed how much Robert loved the attention and how Liam was mingling, simply mingling and having fun, and his anxiety settled down.

For some reason they mingled well, his work mates and the Royals they were supposed to keep safe and seeing Robert on the dancefloor, he decided that maybe the music wasn't all that bad and being able to see him at all, meant the lighting certainly wasn't, and the company definitely was good, so Jasper relaxed and just nursed his beer.

Robert was doing some weird sort of boogie with Elisabeth, another co-worker, when Liam came to find him.

'You see,' Liam smiled, an arm slung around Jasper's shoulder. 'He's not that bad, this brother of mine. I think we can leave the whole Cartizze-ordeal behind us. After all, he let you live after your talk. He might be a bit arrogant and entitled, but aren't we all? '

Jasper looked at Liam unimpressed but they toasted anyway, to arrogance and entitlement, and long, dark hair and challenging smirks, and for fuck's sake, he missed her. And would it be so bad to accept Robert's proposal?

'I mean, I miss having you around,' Liam said, 'and so does James and even Lenny, really, she does' – 'I think the whole balcony-incident proves as much,' he added as an afterthought, causing Jasper to cringe – 'and Robbie wouldn't be asking if he didn't agree, because we want you to come back to the Palace. You know, back to working for us. As a bodyguard, not a toilet cleaner.'

Liam grinned. 'Well, might be that Robbie will try to get you to clean the loo because he's a dick, but hey, who else can say they've been the bodyguard of the twins, the Queen Mother and the King? You'll be worshipped.'

'I already worship this man,' Jonathan butted in, having caught the last part of Liam's sentence, also slinging an arm around Jasper's shoulders, effectively trapping him and Liam in a three-way-hug.

'Hanging out with the bloody King and Prince of England,' Jonathan said reverently, shaking his head in disbelief.

'Future King,' Robbie yelled from the dancefloor, but Jonathan dismissed him.

'Bloody hell,' he smirked. 'Bloody, fucking hell. If only Poppy were here.'

At this Liam's smile broadened.

'Poppy?' he asked. 'You know her too, then?'

He clearly hadn't caught up to the fact they were all colleagues.

Jonathan once again pretended a faint as he held his palm against his forehead.

'You know Poppy?' he exclaimed. 'Lord have mercy, my heart cannot take this anymore.'

Jasper forced a laugh, but his heart was racing, because this was Jonathan, and Jonathan had a quick mouth and an even quicker mind, and there were things he didn't want Jonathan to accidentally tell the Prince and there was even more he didn't want Jonathan to find out. And a drunk Liam was a blabbermouth.

Jasper pushed his mate away.

'Be gone, you drunk,' he said. 'Go charm some lady's panties off and leave the Princes alone.'

Jonathan pouted, but when a busty brunette walked by, he was quick to follow her, stumbling slightly as he did so.

'He's so good looking,' Liam mused, sounding almost resigned.

'Very much so,' Robert added, before returning to his conversation with Elisabeth, all boogie'd out.

'If Lenny got eyes on him,' Liam started to say, but he dwindled off as he looked at Jasper.

'Bloke has nothing on you, though,' he was quick to say, but he needn't have bothered, as Jasper wasn't even listening, busying himself with his phone. He hadn't texted her since that night at Cartizze. Now was as good a time as ever.

I'm with your brothers.

And whether it was fate or not, she always responded quickly to him.

Did Robbie die again? she asked and when he said, no, she shot him back a fast, then I don't care.

He sighed, rubbed the back of his head, and then thought, fuck it.

'Shots,' he yelled and it was so unlike him that even Liam paused to look, but then Jonathan was there, brunette forgotten, because there were shots and there were Royal brothers and there was so much more of a story to be had here, then he would ever find between the brunette's breasts.

Jägers were lined up and if only Jasper knew, if only he remembered what Poppy had told him about her night out with the Princess and the jägers.

But he didn't, so he downed them and so did Liam, Robert and Jonathan with him, and they were rowdy and loud and dancing, mostly jumping, and it was almost as if Eleanor had never existed. Except, yeah, she was only always in the back of his mind.

'I think I'm going to take the job,' he found himself saying somewhere halfway through the night, thoughts fumbled and straying too often, too fucking often, to Eleanor, and Robert smacked him on the back, not hard enough to be a challenge but maybe too hard to be just friendly.

'I'm glad,' Robert said.

'Are you?' Jasper questioned aloud, but when Robert forced him to take a sip from his bottle – 'I never let anyone drink from my glass nor bottle, so does that answer your question?' – he decided it was fine. He was drunk and perhaps he should think this over some more and yes, he would without a doubt regret it tomorrow, but he was taking the job. Taking it.

He decided to text Eleanor again and that little voice in the back of his head telling him not to, was easily ignored. He was only human. Barely.

Liam is drunk.

He wondered whether this was drunk texting or simply attention seeking. Perhaps they were one and the same.

So?

Her replies were quick and he wondered what she was still doing up. On the other hand, it was barely past midnight, so perhaps his – their – current state of inebriation wasn't accurate enough to judge other people by.

I think you need to come get him.

Perhaps a bit too forward, but he'd take his chances.

Jonathan pressed another Jäger in his hands, trying to read what was on the screen but Jasper turned his phone away subtly and downed the shot in one go. He knew Jonathan's antics and he was drunk, not stupid. The boy grinned at him knowingly – again – and he could already see the wheels spinning in Jonathan's head. Making up stories. Stories that always hit too close to home.

'I bet that's not Poppy you're texting,' Jonathan smirked and Jasper raised an eyebrow at him.

'Fuck off,' he said and surprisingly Jonathan did, distracted by Robbie who had gotten his phone out and was showing the group pictures of Liam and him as children, much to everyone's amusement.

You're too obvious, Jasper from Las Vegas. I thought you were supposed to be good at this.

Tricking people, she added, as if he hadn't known what she'd meant.

Then again, she typed, you didn't get the diamond.

It felt good to just talk to her like this. It was something.

I'm serious. Liam is really drunk.

He decided to ignore the Koh-I-Noor comment. No need to get into that again.

Liam is always drunk, was her swift reply, and Jasper snorted. He caught Liam's attention by laughing and the boy quickly snatched the phone from his hands.

'Ooh, look at this,' Liam cooed. 'Texting my sister.'

Jasper had not the energy, or so he told himself, to take back his phone. Not worth fighting over, he made himself believe, when Liam shouted, 'Robbie, let's facetime Lenny from Jasper's phone!'

And that was exactly what they did and for fuck's sake, how his heart was racing.

She answered on the first ring.

'You are drunk,' he could hear her say, surprise tinging her voice, like she hadn't believed him, which she probably hadn't.

'Not drunk,' Liam grinned. 'Just lightly intoxicated. Nothing too bad. And Jasper will keep me safe.'

Now it was her turn to snort and Jasper smirked.

'He does have a tendency to sleep with the bodies he's supposed to guard, so watch your back,' she said. 'Literally.'

Liam shot him a quick glance and whispered into the phone's microphone, 'He can hear you, Len.'

Jasper couldn't hear her reply, but he was certain it wasn't complimentary.

They spoke some more, and Liam could be heard whining, 'I don't want to go home yet', but Eleanor seemed adamant to the point where the younger Prince was petulantly stomping his feet on the floor. Jonathan mimicked him, thinking it was some sort of dance. But then Liam grinned and his eyes shone.

'Let's all go back to the Palace!' And it was the stupidest idea ever, beyond stupid perhaps, but for some weird reason – alcohol, alcohol, alcohol and Eleanor, Eleanor, Lenl – Jasper found himself agreeing with Liam and he was ready to shout his approval of the idea.

'No!'

It wasn't Eleanor's voice and Liam suddenly smiled even wider than before.

'Willow! My love,' he exclaimed, but his girlfriend ignored him.

'No, no, no,' she repeated, ignoring his fond declaration. 'You are drunk and you are not going anywhere. Stay right there. We are coming to get you. Somebody, send us the location!'

And Jasper could hear Eleanor in the background protesting, shouting something along the lines of 'We bloody hell aren't', but Jonathan had already made a pass for Jasper's phone and was now on the other side of the bar, showing his perfectly straight and perfectly white teeth at the frontal camera and was most likely giving Willow directions to the bar which were far too accurate and way too detailed for someone who was supposed to be as drunk as Jonathan posed to be.

'I still think he's too handsome,' Liam muttered, standing next to Jasper and his brother.

'Here,' Robbie said, sliding another bottle of Heineken Liam's way. 'Have another drink. You'll need it. I'm pretty sure Willow will forget all about you the moment she sees that bloke in real life. You might have a title, but he has everything.'

Jasper laughed.

'Wouldn't be laughing if I were you, bodyguard,' Robbie smirked. 'You have nothing and you're not nearly as good-looking as him. Eleanor might just shag him, just to get one over you.'

Liam bristled, elbowing Robbie in the ribs.

'This is why you have no friends,' the youngest Prince said. 'You're mean.'

'I can be your friend,' Jonathan butted in, handing Jasper back his phone. 'Everybody always says I'm mean too and we're both ridiculously attractive, so it only makes sense.'

They high-fived and Jasper, for just a moment, foresaw the downfall of the British monarchy, because for fuck's sake, it seemed like both Henstridge brothers were idiots, but then he remembered Cartizze and the sensible talk he and Robbie had afterwards and perhaps there was hope yet. Who cared anyway? Eleanor was coming, coming here, and he was hopelessly drunk and simply the thought of seeing her had his dick twitching in his pants and this was so going to be worse than a car crash.

'Jonathan,' he called out because it was the only sensible thing to do in the face of disaster. 'More shots!'

They arrived in a whirlwind of ooh's and aah's, because two Princes, that was fine, but the Princess too? No one was prepared, Jasper least of all.

She arched a mocking eyebrow when she saw him, sitting in a corner, brooding over his beer, because what was he going to do when she got here, and for fuck's sake, she was already there.

'Nice eye,' she commented as she passed him, all smiles and dimples, as Jonathan – of course, Jonathan, acting like they were old mates that went way back – introduced her to the group. Liam was being fussed over by Willow, but it didn't take a genius to see that neither she nor the Princess were completely sober either.

'That went well,' Robbie whispered in passing, being pulled onto the dancefloor again by Elisabeth, who sometime in the past hour had shed her navy blue woollen dress and was now jumping around in what Jasper was certain was some sort of undergarment. Robbie seemed to love it, though.

He watched for a couple of minutes, but his eyes strayed too fast and too easily to the female Henstridge. Jonathan was still by her side, an arm slung casually around her shoulders, except it wasn't nearly as casual as it looked because this was Jonathan and Jonathan never did anything casually.

He pushed himself up, started walking towards them, but before he could reach them, the Princess had already pulled Jonathan along, to the other side of the dancefloor, and was she looking at him over her shoulder?

When she did it again, barely ten minutes later, when Jasper tried to approach her and Willow, he smirked at her, an eyebrow arched. She was ignoring him, had acknowledged him when she and Willow had entered, but now she was looking straight through him. And he recognized it for what it was; a challenge.

And he was too far gone to even think about what he looked like, following her around. It wasn't a big pub, but big enough for him to do so without attracting too much attention. But he knew she was aware, casting glances over her shoulder, coy smirks and unimpressed arched eyebrows. She fucking loved every moment of it and he wondered whether this was just a one-time thing or the beginning of something.

He cornered her at the slot machine, in a dark enough nook to the side of the bar which was obscured from view mostly by the slot and half a wall. She did not acknowledge him, but of course she didn't. She was casually throwing coins in the machine but she had no idea how to work it and it was amusing to watch her randomly punching buttons. He moved behind her, one hand nonchalantly resting on the machine and he could feel the hairs on her arm stand up straight. The heat coming from her body. Still, she ignored him.

The reels spun one last time and then the machine lighted up. Not because she won, though. She was out of credit.

She didn't turn around, but he knew she was waiting.

'We still need to talk, Princess,' he said. His breath fanned over her bare shoulder and she suppressed a shiver.

'And you think this is the right time and place?' she replied cuttingly, but there was no real bite to it.

He shrugged and she felt the movement through her entire body.

'We need to start somewhere,' he said. The alcohol made him bold as he stepped closer to her, pressed the entire length of him against her back. Trailed his hand, previously on the machine, up her arm, amplifying the goose bumps already there. Rested his hand in the hollow of her throat. It was strangely intimate and so, so provocative and this time she did shudder.

He pressed closer.

'This is your idea of talking?' she asked, prided herself on sounding unaffected, but for fuck's sake, she knew her nipples were already rock hard and what else?

'I could tell you I am sorry,' he murmured and to her it almost sounded like a purr. 'But I don't think that's what you want to hear.'

'It's not,' she agreed. 'But it would be a start.'

Her voice faltered at the end of her sentence, as he pushed her hair away from her shoulder, pressing a light kiss to the exposed skin.

'I could tell you I missed you,' he said, his lips not leaving her, imprinting the words into her skin. 'But I think you already know that.'

She turned her head to the side, baring more of her neck to him and he took her silent invitation. He placed a flat hand beneath her chin, gently yet firmly pushing her head back. Bit down hard, then kissed the exact same spot and she mewled, refusing to gasp out loud. She unconsciously arched into him, provoking a response from his already twitching dick. His jaw tightened and the fingers of his free hand dug into her hip, kneading, finding the waistband of her shorts.

'Just so you know,' his breath was hot on her ear, 'I am sorry and I did miss you.'

Hooked a finger inside the band, tightened his hold on her throat. She went rigid, her breathing guttural, and he pressed his hips forward.

'Jasper.' It was more of a moan than anything else, causing him to smirk, hooking one finger inside her panties.

'Stop,' and he didn't hear her the first time, because her voice was hoarse and his tongue was on her throat and for fuck's sake, 'Jasper, stop!'

He blinked, confused, and she pushed him off her, turned around.

'Please don't,' she whispered, and she pulled her hair forward, shielding her face. But he had already seen the emotions there, seen her uncertainty, her worry and her embarrassment, and she tried to hide it from him. Had to. Because she was scared. And he knew.

'Eleanor, I-' he said, stepping forward, but she cut him off.

'You wouldn't want Robbie to give you another black eye,' she smirked, 'for feeling up his little sister in public.'

But he saw right through her façade and he had fucked up. Again. He didn't follow when she walked away from him, because he knew she didn't want him to. Instead he watched for a while, mingling with his colleagues, looking for all means like she belonged there. She hit Robbie against the head when he whispered something in her ear that obviously didn't sit well with her and when Jonathan made a move at her, she swiftly stepped to the side and engrossed herself in conversation with Willow and Elisabeth.

She was doing fine and she certainly didn't need him. But he needed her and he had never pretended to be anything but selfish. He ran a hand through his hair, debated whether or not to get another drink and he knew it wasn't wise, but he was already walking towards the bar and apparently ordering a Scotch neat, and with the glass already in his hand, he had no choice but to drink it.

Or so he told himself.

He had just ordered another Scotch, when he saw her move from the corner of his eyes. Saw Eleanor disentangle herself from both Willow and Elisabeth, who both kept on dancing wildly, and make her way towards the loos. He hesitated only a second, perhaps even less. Chucked back the contents of his glass and followed her.

It almost felt like the night of the birthday party, following her onto the balcony, except it wasn't the birthday party because instead of running away he was running to her now.

She never locked the bathroom door, not in the Palace and not out of it, and he was glad for it as he slipped inside, locking it behind him. She turned around immediately, eyes wide and posture defensive, and she didn't relax when she realized it was him.

'Go away, Jasper,' she muttered, ignoring him.

But he wasn't easily deterred, not now, not anymore, and he stepped forward determined. She turned halfway during his approach, hearing him move, raised an eyebrow at him, daring him.

But he cupped her face between his hands anyway, gently, and there was so much he wanted to say. Needed to say. But for now it only mattered he said the right things.

'I'm sorry,' he began, and she pulled away from him, but he had a secure grip on her. 'I'm sorry for not understanding what you needed from me. I'm sorry for letting you push me away. I'm sorry for not hearing what you were trying to tell me.'

He remembered her hand in his, the day of the King's Cup, and he knew she did too, because her eyes were glossy and her lip was quivering. Her ran his thumb over her lips, resting his head against hers.

'I'm sorry,' he breathed. 'But I'm here now. And I love-'

And her lips were on his, uncontrolled, unrestrained, and she pushed him back, back and back, kissing him feverishly – he could already feel his lips bruising - until he felt the granite of the bathroom counter digging into his back. Even then she kept pushing and her tongue was in his mouth and her hands in his hair and fuck, just fuck.

She felt so good in his arms, and she was either his curse or his blessing, because, running his hands under her shirt, up her sides, back down her spine, cupping her ass, for fuck's sake, he knew she would be the dead of him.

And perhaps this was all about dominance and submission again, but at this point he was beyond caring. He needed her to know he was yielding to her, surrendering.

He lifted her up, his fingers digging painfully into the soft flesh of her ass and she hissed into his mouth, bit down on his bottom his lip menacingly. He set her down on the bathroom counter with a bit more force than was necessary and she cried out, but then his fingers were pinching her erect nipples and she moaned, pulling him closer by his hair, locking her legs around him. He pressed forward, forcing her to lean back, and he pulled her shirt over her head. The moment her shirt was off he stared at her, licked his lips. Because he had missed her. And he wanted her to know.

'Don't,' she whispered and he kissed her, slow and deep. One hand on her breast, the other deeply buried in her hair. His fingers glided over her nipples and he bend to kiss where his fingers had just been. She arched into him and he took her breast into his mouth, while his hand explored lower, rubbing circles on the sensitive skin of her inner thigh.

She clenched her jaw, refusing to make a sound, but a moan escaped her anyway as he flicked his tongue over her nipple. His other hand worked on unzipping her shorts and though her body was tense, she helped him pull them down.

He kissed her belly button, nuzzled her flat stomach, and both his hands were on her thighs, pushing her legs fully open.

Her eyes were wide and she shook her head, but he pressed a hard kiss against her core, looking at her, as his tongue flicked out at her tentatively, and she closed her eyes, threw her head back. He teased her with a finger, ran his tongue over her clit, and then her hands were in his hair and she was telling him 'more' and all he could do was oblige.

He circled her clit with his tongue, teased her briefly before putting his mouth over it. He pressed one finger, two fingers inside, as he sucked gently and her hands fisted in his hair as her back arched and she almost hit her head on the bathroom mirror. Teasing and flicking, his fingers working delicately, and he looked at her and felt the need building and for fuck's sake, she was beautiful, all high strung and almost on the brink of, all because of him.

The way she moaned his name when she came, almost sent him straight over the edge too.

He held her as she went limp, kissed the corners of her mouth and her nose, kissed her eyelids and her forehead, and as her breathing returned to normal, he kissed her on the lips. She held him tightly against her, three, four, five seconds, but then she pushed him away softly.

'My shirt,' she said, and he got it for her, as she wriggled back into her shorts. She threw water in her face, took a couple of deep swallows, before she turned around to face him.

'Eleanor,' he started, but she shook her head. She reached around him for the locked door, unlocked it with a simple flick of her hand.

'I don't want to talk,' she said. 'Not right now.'

His fingers closed around her wrist.

'Now is as good as ever,' he said, but she scoffed.

'You're drunk,' she hissed. 'This –' and she gestured wildly with her free hand, her eyes ferocious '- is proof enough of that.'

And she was taking this completely the wrong way, because.

'I know exactly what I'm doing, Len,' he murmured lowly, stepping closer to her. 'And I know exactly what I want, who I want.'

In the back of his mind he knew want wasn't the right word to use, but he wanted and he longed for, and he needed and he loved, and how the hell was he supposed to tell her all of that in a dingy bathroom stall where he had just gone down on her because he had wanted to show her something she wasn't understanding at all.

Surrender. I surrender to you.

'Come home with me,' he said softly, his fingers entwined with hers, but only loosely. It was her decision to make. He wasn't going to force her.

She looked back towards her brothers, Willow and the others, then at him. Stood in the doorway, indecisiveness on her face. And that same fear from before was still there, making him wonder how he had never seen it before. She took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly.

'Fine,' she said, closing her fingers tightly around his. They were out the door in a flash and no one saw them leave. He offered her his hoodie to pull over her head and he hailed them a black cab. He wasn't fit to drive and Robbie still had his car keys anyway. She said nothing the entire ride to his house and he was glad he didn't live far away. For some reason he thought she might change her mind had taken too long. She hadn't let go of his hand, though.

He paid the cab driver, gave him a hefty tip. The man nodded knowingly, tipped his hat when he drove away.

She was waiting patiently for him in front of his door and when he turned the lock, she followed him inside timidly. She leaned against the front door, pushing it closed with her weight, and looked at him. And she knew he was drunk and they shouldn't be doing this. Because tomorrow he would regret this and so would she, for entirely different reasons, though, and it would only make everything worse.

Because he had almost told her he loved her, which she was almost certain he didn't.

But what if he did?

And for fuck's sake, she hated this pathetic, little girl he had reduced her to. A girl with hope. Against better judgement. A girl who missed a man that left her.

It wasn't blatantly obvious to a stranger, but Eleanor knew him and there were little tells. The half smirk on his face, his slightly glossed over eyes. And he might've wanted to tell her her loved her, but there was only lust left now.

She had already made a choice by coming here. And she was willingly going to let him break her heart all over again. The least she could do was enjoy it.

She placed a hand in the back of his neck, pulled him down and forward. He came willingly and the moment her lips touched his, he had her flat up against the door, his long and hard body covering hers completely. His swollen dick was pressing into her stomach, and she rolled her hips, tugging on his earlobe.

'This means nothing,' she whispered into his neck, her tongue following the sharp trail of his jaw, as her fingers were frenetically working on the buttons of his pants.

'Nothing,' he agreed.

Everything, she wished, as he slipped one finger inside of her.

Everything, he thought, as he took her against his front door.