Ladies, Gents, feel free to immerse yourself in this story as not only will this be completed (I have a type A personality, I cannot physically leave things unfinised... suppose I have a tad OCD too. Hehe) but I have finished my second year of exams and have a good two month at home before Uni starts pulling out my brain again and stealing my time.
Yes, reviewers I kneel before you for forgiveness again, I have been slack, I have been a bad author and I have been away for far too long *melodramatic swoon*. I apologise for not replying to reviews but they excite me so much I just pass out on the spot and cannot face them again to offer a reply.
Okay okay I may be overexaggerating, but I DO LOVE reviews, the make me so happy and keep me writing faster and faster. So thanks reviewers and readers you're making my day, month and year :D
If you've sent me a question in reviews that I haven't answered I apologise so much, please re-ask and since my hectic lifestyle has drastically calmed, I promise you, it WILL be answered in this space in the next update.
Many many thanks, and much love. Hope you enjoy.
Xx
Previously; Chloe passed dear old Greenie the plans to Nexus labs (a.k.a where Lex has planned a lovely trap). Chloe's been fed some photo-shopped disturbing lies about Arrow's crimes. Little Miss Luthor had a saucy saucy dream about Mr Green (*purr*). Arrow saw Chloe's scars, went nuts and Bart shed some light on that situation. And we left off where Victor was reflecting on just how amazing dear Chloe was :)
Chapter Twelve; Past Connections
'You made a deal with the devil. He always comes to collect'- Lionel Luthor (Season 5, Episode Vessel)
Chloe was back in the saddle of her work before doubt could spread about Arrow. She followed the link Bryan had reluctantly given; Tara was not the most helpful of assistants, but she did her job in giving an address.
Surprisingly, it was not in the slums. No, she was travelling to a family home in Granville.
Cautiously, she approached the porch with sunglasses over her eyes, shading her from the mid-morning sun. The house was akin to the others of the neighbourhood, except there were no toys scattering the front lawn and the flowerbeds were not of any order. The porch steps creaked a friendly welcome and she tapped twice on the door before taking a few steps back.
"You the one Bryan said about?" The voice was gruff, angry-at-the-world type. Even through the door she could sense he would not be smiling.
"Miss Sullivan." she spoke in reply to the balding head poking into the top windows of the door.
"Come in. Take a seat." He opened the door in a stiff breeze after handling 3 locks. From the lack of hair she had guessed him older, he but couldn't be more than 35 years old. His eyes didn't linger on her, just waited by the door until she was through then closed it quietly. She expected weapons hung on the wall, but it looked like either he'd just moved in, or he was just moving out. Boxes littered the floors in all kinds of disorder, but she was here for business, not decorating tips.
She chose the chair closest to the door and sat down, her eyes watching the man before her.
He waved her to begin and she lifted the arrow from her bag. She'd been in these circles before, paranoid personality types that got straight to the point without any side-chatter. She liked them, it made her job easier.
"Your work?" she asked. He just narrowed his eyes, inspecting the item. With her permission, he was lifting the arrow between his fingers and twirling around the item to investigate every aspect.
"I wish." he finally said, his posture relaxing with the words, the tension fading slightly. "This is way beyond what I could do…" he admired, the gruff voice was still there, but Chloe felt it to be more of a smoker's consequence than an angry man's. "The finish to this baby is fantastic. I use a workshop out back to do my work. This is factory grade… or someone with enough room and money to buy the highest tec equipment." Chloe smiled, noting how he started with no more than a few words per sentence, but when asked about something he actually cared about, he was more than happy to talk endlessly. Still, no real progress. "Wish I could meet the man who did this. It's lighter than a feather." He laughed in admiration. "Absolutely beautiful work. Just beautiful." The topic had the man opening up in ways she couldn't have predicted. Guess you cannot judge a book by the cover… or the first page.
"You don't know anyone who might know anything more about this?"
"I usually just do period pieces for recreations or collectors. The occasional high tec junkie wants one for his wall or for playing in the fields at robin hood. Did a stage piece once, this guy wanted one custom made so he could take a photo for his book cover depicting a golden arrow in an apple." He chuckled again. "But… I don't have the equipment for this."
"If you were given the task… where would you go for the equipment?"
"All over, it's just odd bits." When she looked at him disheartened, he showed her. "See, look at this at the tip." He held his finger against the sharp bladed point. "It's cleanly made, sharp too. This isn't usually what you see in custom jobs, they're a little more rough because of the hands on them. This looks like machine and factory work." He tilted the weaponry again. "So delicate yet strong. But, you spend enough time, you can use your usual tools and get this quality. I'm usually on a rush order." He laughed and continued his investigation. His finger stroked down the shaft in a silent question to himself. Chloe anticipated it.
"There was an electric current or something in it." He smiled as the response cleared his confusion.
"Hmmm, this part is heavier, if you dissected it you'd probably find a chamber leading to the metal point. The outer casing though, not a conductor. Probably kept as a last resort." Chloe pushed back the memory of Green Arrow on the floor having to use these as a last resort.
"You can't tell me anything more about these?" He looked up from the arrow with a sorrowful expression.
"Wish I could help you, you seem like a nice lass. But… only thing I could say is that I'd want a lot of money if I was asked to make these."
Chloe wrapped up their time, his number added to her many contacts. He'd taken more of a shine to her after having the opportunity to study the object. Said he'd call her if he thought of anyone or anything. She wished she had something to bring back to Lex and the guards waiting by the car. She already knew he had money… sure, it was nice to have a confirmation, but it was not a far stretch. Now she just needed to find a bored billionaire with enough time to spend wobbling around rooftops and crafting his own arrows.
She coughed a laugh to herself remembering she needed to start playing Queen soon.
She also had a car to deliver to pay off her debt, her mind added, merging the two events into one nice summary. Queen needed a worse day, and she needed a car. It didn't take a genius.
She stepped back into the sunlight, her sunglasses back over her eyes. She headed towards the car, but the contact took a step with her.
"Miss?" Chloe turned to the man again. He twiddled his thumbs, almost nervously.
"Is there something else?" she asked, sliding off the sunglasses again. He nodded and motioned with his head to back garden where he'd mentioned his workshop was. With a dismissing wave to the guard's worry, she stepped around the back and followed shuffled footsteps into a wooden workshop.
"It's not directly the same… but you might want to see it." He unpinned a photo from its place on the wall. She took it curiously. "He paid good money to remain anonymous, but I suppose he no longer needs it." Her eyes looked over the image, not quite understanding his point. She raised her eyebrow as she inspected further. "The arrow." he started to explain. "It's the same purpose; small, not to be fired independently. Last resort kind." Chloe's eyes widened, did this man know Arrow? "Only difference I suppose is that he wanted an injection chamber instead of an electric current."
"Injecting what?" she enquired, her hands tight on the image.
"Best guess: poison." He shrugged though.
"Tell me you have a name. Please. Anything; address, billing details, bank account number, physical description, fingerprints on something he touched. Something!" She was inches away from finding this son of a bitch. The air of desperation was unavoidable.
"This isn't the man you're looking for." he spoke confidently.
"No, he could have easily changed his style, the basic shape is the same, he cou-"
"He's dead sweetheart." he spoke, cutting her off short. "The dark archer that thrilled the press." He ran his fingers down his stubble as he thought to recall the name. "Vordman? Vordiman?"
"Vordigan" she corrected, her buzz lost, but her mind trying to pick up the pieces and slot them in with the Arrow she knew. Her research had already led her down this track, but she'd read inside and out on this man, including his autopsy report. This was not her man. With a sigh, she set the photo on the nearest table.
"The arrow though." he began again. "If you change the injection system for an electric current chamber, upgrade the metals… it's pretty much identical. Right down to the shape of the fletching."
"Vordrigan's archery supplies were never recovered." she spoke aloud. "I'd bet my life's savings someone's got to them and adapted them to their liking." The man smiled to her.
"Wish I could give you more, you seem like a good lass." Chloe smiled, shook the man's hand and settled herself into the back seat of the car as she grinned. Arrow was taking his study from Vordigan. Something she could take back to Lex as progress.
Bart slumped on Oliver's sofa while the others argued about the plan for Nexus. His mind was elsewhere. Chloe. How did she get in so deep? Why couldn't she have just stayed with him? Run away with him? His eyes went to Oliver. He didn't deserve Chloe. He knew nothing of her. Nothing of her struggle. He just saw her legs, her smile, her laughter. Her defences were always up… not like with Bart. But his time with Chloe was over… they'd both had to move on. Forget they knew each other. Forget the past.
The rain hit heavy as the wind blew through the crowds. The people just kept rolling, heads down, feet fast, hoping they could reach their cars or busses or trains before the inevitable lightening started. It was the prime time for Bart to work. Bart pulled down the hoodie, knowing it would only blow itself down and he stepped out from the store front awnings cover. People were too busy to get home and dry to think of who they bumped into or who brushed their pockets to steal a wallet. Bart didn't mind the rain, he rather liked it, it reminded him he was alive.
Bart drifted his hand down to the rucksack that he carried by his hip. Once empty, it was now home to several purses and wallets, a fancy watch too. Still room for more though. He worked outside the station entrance for a good half hour and soon the bag was full. With a smile, he called his day's work over and took his time, walking the back alleys as he filtered the cash from the wallets and the credit cards from the receipts people insisted upon stuffing their wallets with.
He dumped the useless stuff, pawned the watch for a happy amount and picked up an adventurous pizza from Alexandro's Pizza pizazz. Meat and Veg; a classic, but this baby had double cheese, herbs scattered throughout and a garlic stuffed crust. The best part, a red wine sauce made for dipping. He'd raised his eyebrow when he first read it, but it was his mission to try everything on the specials board. This was item number five and he found himself salivating at the smell as the box changed places with the money. He gorged on a slice in the pizzeria, enjoying every bite. This was good. Sure, he'd tasted better and he'd still opt for the meat medley above this, but it was much better than he imagined it would be. These cooks were genius, not a single bad creation.
Bart headed at speed to the slums, there was a motel on the outskirts that let you stay for a cheap price without questions asked like 'where were your parents?' or 'you doing anything illegal?'. The rain was still hammering down, between that and the speed he was running at it was a miracle he heard it at all. But from alley to alley, out of eye sight he passed the sobs of another human.
His conscience couldn't let him keep running.
He stopped, if only to check if the person was alright, then he'd keep running, he promised himself.
But he found the source of the tears to be huddled underneath a fire escape of an abandoned warehouse, hugging her own knees, dripping from head to toe, blonde hair cascading in a wet waterfall down her shoulders.
Cautiously, Bart stepped forward, she didn't hear him, didn't look up. Just kept her cries to herself. She was soaked to the bone. Bart took another step, more confident in his moves now, she needed help.
"Are you okay?" The head snapped up violently, she scurried back from his position without even seeing him. When her back hit the wall she hissed in pain but still stood, taking an offensive posture. "Are you okay?" he asked again, closer still. Her eyes settled on him and he watched as a weight flew off her shoulders, she relaxed, her hands on her knees.
"I'm sorry. I'm fine." Her voice wobbled, her tears infected the words negating them entirely. "Thanks" she added on in a second nature.
"You need somewhere to stay? I know a cheap place. It's not much, but it's warm and you can dry off." Her eyes softened, she swallowed her tears again. Bart didn't need to know her circumstance, didn't even need her to tell him she had run could see it, he'd been there.
Her head gave the slightest of nods and he smiled. "What's your name?" he asked. She froze up again, and like magic he read into the action. "You don't have to give me your real name. I just need something to call you." Her eyes were so vocal, they gave everything away, they warmed at the kindness he showed in the simple gesture of allowing her anonymity.
"Charlotte?" she provided.
"I'll call you Lotte." He smiled. "You can call me Bart."
"Is it close?" she asked, as he offered out his hand to her.
"Not really… but… if you close your eyes and promise to never try to figure it out or tell anyone, I can get us there faster." He watched her judge him, decide upon a further course of action. Slowly she accepted his free hand, taking a glance to his face. She saw someone to trust, someone who understood. He felt how cold she was, fending off the shivers by force of will. He urged her closer, not surprised by her reluctance. "Close your eyes?" She gave him another look, but eventually stepped closer as he wanted, closing her eyes. He tentatively slipped her onto his back, the pizza and rucksack still gripped tight in one hand. She was slowly dripping, her cold seeping into his warmth.
True to her promise she kept her eyes closed the entire 45 seconds of the speed, waiting until she was back on her feet and he gave her the words to open them again. She was trusting, he noted with a swell of pride. He was trustworthy. He smiled and held a hand to hers while he led her to the main desk. The old man was a grump, smelled off and was a stickler for making money. But he was kind where it was needed.
"Back again kid?" he grumbled as Bart walked in.
"Twin room please." Bart just spoke.
"You owe me for the last single."
"I know, I know." Bart smirked at the old guy, sliding over the money to cover the night and the previous room he'd had to forgo payment upon.
"Room 32." He exchanged the money for the key and without another word, led Lotte up and into room 32. As soon as the door closed she spoke.
"You're meteor infected?" she asked, her voice more stable, but still shaken.
"Not exactly. But for now let's just say yes." He grinned and winked at her, turning the heating in the room to full and shedding the jacket from his clothing. He slung it over the back of the radiator, then turned to more important issues. "There's pizza if you're hungry." Her eyes flashed up to him. "How long have you been outside in this?"
"I don't know. What time is it?" Her confusion pieced another slot into his puzzle of her.
"7pm." he answered, pushing the pizza box closer to her. "Who are you running from?" She instantly went on alert, stepping from the bed he was perched on. "Relax, I'm not going to say anything about it. Just out of curiosity"
"I can't go back." she whimpered.
"That's cool. I don't really have anywhere either." With a shrug he picked another slice, happy it was still hot and took a huge bite. Her shiver reminded him of her condition and he cursed, dropping the slice back to the box. "Here." he pulled a dry hoodie from his rucksack, it was a few sizes too big for him, would probably drown her, but it was the only other thing he had with him that was dry and warm. "You'll get ill like that. Put that on." But she didn't step to accept it. "You can change in the bathroom, I'm not a perv. Just don't want to see you get ill when I could do something about it."
"I… ummm… I can't." she whispered, full of shame.
"What's wrong?"
"I…"He watched her strength break again, her eyes streaming tears a new, her words breaking. He sped over, catching her as she broke. It took him a few seconds to figure her reasoning, finding the blood on the back of her blouse. She begged him not to ask, pleaded for no questions. He could do nothing but comply. He ran out for bandages and antiseptic, sped off to get her some clean clothes and passed her the remaining pizza she claimed to be her new favourite. He spent the night making her happy, distracting her, watching the cheap pay-per-view films.
The next morning some bodyguards came knocking down the motel door, had policemen arresting him calling him a kidnapper and taking the screaming girl back to her prison. He followed her back, came back to see her most nights. Figured out the majority of her story with ease. Until Lionel did too, he found out about her nightly guest and Bart came back to an empty room, Chloe being shipped off to another corner of the world.
Bart sighed, the pizza in his hand no longer of interest to his appetite. He'd always thought if he'd taken her somewhere else, somewhere out of the country… somewhere they hadn't found her. She'd be safe, she'd be with him.
Chloe sighed in bed, sleep was nowhere in sight, and her caffeine kick was running on zero. Since she wasn't sleeping and since she needed energy to do anything, it seemed like the kitchen needed a visit. Chloe had all intention of drifting to the kitchen and raiding the coffee supplies, but instead her mind choose the interest her ears had picked up; Lex's voice.
"I'm glad to hear from you." Her motions stopped, who the hell was Lex ever pleased to hear from?! "I was thinking about you too." A female? Chloe knew she shouldn't, but she put herself closer to the one sided conversation. She listened to the silence while the conversation occurred over the telephone. "That's too bad. Are you sure?" he enquired, almost sounding like he actually was disappointed. "I was hoping you could be there, there are a lot of people who could help you get a foot in the business." Was he just trying to flirt for a female's business? Low Lex… Her feet started again, discounting her curiosity in his business. Until, she heard the next sentence leave his lips. "I'll miss your company dearly Lana."
There was more to his words, but Chloe had heard enough. Lana, his on again off again, the one he pined after. She was probably taking another excuse out of her book to avoid Lex again. At least nothing was going on that was serious. He was just reaching beyond his arm span again. Chloe smiled to herself, the unexplainable jealously squashed down again.
Chloe woke up early, explained her Vordigan connection, received more files about the dark archers crimes and sat in her 'office' for a while making papers add up.
At 1pm, she figured she'd get out of the house, make a payment so to speak. And thus, she ended up infront of Queen Industries paying off the parking attendant to let her check her 'husbands' car for her 'divorce papers'. It didn't take more than a sob story about a cheating husband that had abused her for the man to let her have a free roam of the parking.
Oliver's car wasn't hard to spot, it was the flashy one with the best parking spot that had a licence plate 'Queen3'. She rolled her eyes at it, thinking the licence would better suit a Malibu Barbie's convertible.
She roamed her eyes over the car, it came down to one question in her mind, she owed Bryan a car and Queen had a car sitting here doing nothing, to which in addition she was meant to be messing with him… so, was there anything stopping her from taking it? Sure, there was moral fibre, but being raised by Luthor's destroyed that first and foremost. At least it was expensive, it would put her in Bryan's very good graces.
The problem with expensive cars, is that the people that drive them are too wrapped up in their polish and personalisation, their parking spaces and personal drivers to actually consider how easy it is to steal them. Some don't even bother to lock them when they're at work. Queen was not one of those people, but he did buy himself a car that could easily have its lock popped with a coat hanger through a small gap in the passenger side window. She scoffed at his polished leather insides and slipped to the driver's side to crack open the wires and jump start the car. Within three minutes, she was setting the car into reverse, then passing the security guard through tinted windows as she smiled and drove off.
Thankfully, Bryan's chop shop was still in the same place it always was.
"Morning boys" she grinned as she rolled down the window to the tattooed grease monkeys.
"Well well well. Belle finally shows up to pay her debt."
"It's a rush job." She stepped out of the car, steady and confident on the small heels. The boys looked fierce, she knew for a fact they carried guns and knives. But, they weren't all bad.
"Ye ye, when is it not…" With a smile he turned to the workshop and called for his partners. "So, who today Belle?" Without a name, he insisted upon calling her Belle, not for any real reason at all, just because there was a pin-up calendar with a nude model called Belle when she first met them.
"Someone with enough money to not miss it."
"Ha, ain't that always the way. Fucking lazy arse rich kids, probably sitting on a trust fund from mommy and daddy." Like most of the workers here, they were bitter about chopping up rich kid's cars while they lived in the slums. But, they enjoyed the fact that the rich kids were one car less off.
"You mind phoning Bryan for me?" She needed the recognition the debt was paid.
"That depends, how rush is this?" The boys came out from the back, rubbing their greased hands on the rags they wore as they saw her.
"Belle babe, long time no see!"
"Forget the babe, get to work on the car." The eyes spun back to her, asking the same question without words.
"As far as I can tell he doesn't even know it's missing. Nothing's come up as a problem so far." she answered, perching herself on the only clean section of the paint stained bench.
"Hn. Give us 20 minutes and then we'll see about that call."
Chloe sat, mainly watching the men, keeping conversation as they worked. Nothing of importance was spoken, they were happy to talk about some football game and she was happy to listen and pass the wrenches as needed. By 30 minutes passing, the phone was finally picked up, the identifying parts were being driven to dump sites and useable parts were being set to one side for re-sale.
A tattooed arm came into her vision, a phone at the end. Chloe lifted it from the grasp and put it to her ear.
"I expect that clears my debt." she started.
"Little bit high risk don't you think… a car like that, someone's going to miss it… high risk." She knew right then he was trying to keep her on his hook.
"We had a deal, you didn't specify risk, and that is your mistake, not mine. But, since I'm in a good mood, I'll let you keep my phone number and if the price is right, I don't mind working on behalf of you." A grunt came through the phone, he knew she was right, and from her tone he knew it was the best offer he was going to get.
"Fine. But if I call, you answer!" He always had to have the last word…
"Deal. Nice doing business with you." She hung up and set the phone next to her, making a mental note to block his number at the next chance and change her phone number at the next best time. Whether he liked it or not, they were done.
"Until next time then?" Chloe lifted her eyes to the grease monkey towering over her.
"I suppose so."
"Need a lift back?" She smiled at the kind offer, but a quick turn of her head confirmed her guards were waiting patiently for her.
"I'm good. But you take care."
He shook his head disapprovingly of her life choices but watched her leave all the same. There was something about the girl… her life was just asking for someone to save her… if only she'd let them.
"Chloe!" Lex pushed the doors open to her room, fully expecting her presence. He breathed heavily and stormed the corridors, calling her name as he found it empty. "Chloe!"
"Here!" she called back from somewhere, he headed towards her voice, only to find her in the empty ballroom she'd claimed for her notes to be scattered and organised.
"Get dressed." Were his first words as he took in her nightwear. "You'll be accompanying me tonight." he spoke. Chloe scoffed a laugh.
"Will I?" But despite the question, she knew the choice was not hers, when Lex demanded, it happened. "Where?" she followed up with on a sigh. But her eyes caught a glance at the clock. It was half eight already. "How long do I have? Where the hell am I going? And you better say pyjama party!" But something told her his tux was a big hint.
"Take a shower, a dress will be on your bed. You'll be ready by half nine." And he was gone.
Chloe's stress levels suddenly hit the ceiling, she had an hour to shower, dry, do something with her hair, do her make-up and figure out which was the right way to wear a dress that fit whatever function she was expected to go to.
Some days she wished she could wrap her hands around the neck of every controlling rich asshole like the Luthors. With a curse loud enough to wake the dead she ran the stairs, tugging at her sleeves and untying the ribbons of her pyjama bottoms as she did. As she hit the bedroom door she let the clothing drop, one hand trying to shimmy down the panties while the other pulled the bobble from her disorganised and knotty hair.
A few 'ow'es later and she was speed shaving under a warming stream of water. But as she stepped out, fresh and clean, a comb in her hand to tackle the wet locks, she realised the 'dress' on her bed had actually meant an assistant on her bed. Chloe wrapped the loose towel tighter around her. In the hand of the assistant was a dress… but it was generous to call it that. It had ruffles… and frills. The assistant gave Chloe the inspecting glare up and down, her perfectly nose-job shaped nose stuck up at the dripping woman.
"I am paid to provide glamour, not work miracles." She shook the dress at Chloe who stood exactly where she was. Chloe was NOT dealing with a PMS female bitch fit today.
"LEX!" It impressed even Chloe that her lungs could give her such force and anger into the word. She heard the word shatter down the halls and reach Lex's suddenly annoyed ears. A minute of awkward silence passed between the two frozen females before a calm Lex sauntered into the room with a look that claimed this had to be important or she'd be paying.
"What the hell is this?" she snapped as he entered, her hand out to the dress while the other gripped the towel and her dignity.
"They call it a dress." he wittily replied. The assistance looked down at her manicured nails in a way that ticked off Chloe even more.
"They call it a pastry." she retorted.
"Then choose something else, but you are going."
"I would if you would tell me what the hell event this is!"
"Charity event. Like it always is." he answered, leaning against the door frame, sensing this would not be over quickly. He said charity event, but that was just code for a quarterly guilt removal and chance to make new business contacts.
"What's the dress code?"
"Whatever you like Chloe, but you have-" He looked down at his gold watch. "-15 minutes before I shove you in the closest dress my hand finds and we leave." With not a word more from Chloe, he stood to leave. Chloe instantly spoke again.
"Take her with you, she's as useless as a smacked ass." Lex sighed and turned back to Chloe.
"She's here to help." Lex disagreed.
"She's here to judge me, look down her nose at me and criticise me." Chloe corrected.
Lex sighed loudly and pinched the bridge of his nose.
"What would you like to wear?" Lex enquired, his tone warning her to not start another argument.
With a smile, Chloe listed off the specifications.
"I won't wear anything strapless, nothing that sparkles, nothing with frills or puffy sleeves, nothing in white and nothing that needs heels any higher than 1 inch in order for me to walk. And it can't be backless." At least Chloe knew what she liked, though she always hated adding that last part. Sure, Luthorcorp had designed some cover-up makeup to cover scars but without two hours to apply and dry it wasn't possible.
"You've either find an outfit that fits all of those specification, take home half the agreed pay and keep your personal opinions to yourself. Or, you'll take full pay, leave now and not come back." Chloe watched with a smirk as the assistants smile was wiped clean off her face. Lex paid well, it was doubtful this female would risk losing her placement with Lex just because she hated Chloe.
"I think I can find something." The assistant passed a fake smile to each of the observers, accepting her half pay. Lex shot a look at each, it spoke clearly that if he had to come back in there would be consequences.
Chloe sighed as the assistant left, she had a sick feeling she wasn't going to enjoy tonight.
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So yeah, Chloe's getting dressed up.
Hmmm, charity event... Business clients... why, it makes me think that someone else will be there... someone Chloe might enjoy flirting with.
Woooops, did a spoiler just slip my lips?!
Oh no, I better write some more to the story before I give the whole plot away!
Haha, thanks for reading and sticking with me, much love, leave a comment/review and accept an imaginary zero-calorie ice-cream sundae and chocolate cake with a good hearty steak for main (tasty pasta for the vegetarians amongst you).
Xx