AN: Wow, a chapter I didn't have to edit! Ok, I'm not sure that anyone waiting for the focus to shift to 'the team' is ever going to be pleased. There's a lot of bits and pieces of them. There's a lot of Jesse and Leon, and of course a lot of Vince. There'll be some Letty and Mia, and not too much Dominic. The main point is setting up the relationship between Tempest and Jesse, as well as the relationships between the boys on the team. Anyway, it'll all become clear once I get all of 'book' one up and get started on book two. I'm going to write all of her time in California, and then write book two, which is what comes after. I'm not going to reveal my plans for book two though. Why would you keep reading if I did that? Needless to say, the summary of this, book one, is going to be prophetic. So, enjoy the story and please review!

The Funeral of a Good Girl

By – TempestRaces

Chapter Eight – Of Zippers and Beginner's Luck

"Where are we?"

"I know the people here. Come on, the sooner we get in the sooner we get to eat."

"You're vouching for the place being clean and safe to eat at? It don't look like much."

"I know it don't. But it is. When you gonna learn to trust me?"

"I do. I'm just not great around new restaurants." She watched Vince get out of the car, sighing to himself about her perverseness. She followed him to the sidewalk, hitching up her pants as she walked around the rear of the car to meet him on the driver's side. He surprised her by hooking an arm around her shoulders for the walk around the building.

"You'll like it here."

She figured out what he meant when they pushed through the door. "Italian. I shoulda known from all the fricken pasta and sauce in Mia's cupboards you guys eat a lot of Italian."

"Mia and Dom are Italian, it's what they know. And since Mia does all the cooking—and if you ever watched any of the rest of us but Dominic try, you'd be thankful—it only stands to reason she's gonna cook what she knows. What about you? What do you cook when you cook?"

"I make a mean pot roast," she answered. "And a mean pot of chicken soup." She caught the look he was giving her over her pedestrian choices of dishes to tell him about. "I can cook. You give me a recipe and I can make it. But I don't make a lot of time for cooking or for food. I'm too busy. I end up drinking a lot of protein shakes."

"You're a gym rat, that hard core?"

"Back home I go every day but Sunday."

"Why?"

"To look good in a bikini of course," she grinned and hoped it threw him off any other reasons.

"Do you?"

"Do I what?"

"Look good in a bikini?"

"You'd know if you came to the beach with us yesterday instead of implying I was up to something I shouldn't have been up to with Leon."

Vince opened the door and held himself out of the way, letting her precede him into the interior of the establishment. "I'm not big on the beach."

"Why the fuck not? You live in California. Southern California. I'd live on the beach year round if I could. It's bad enough it's only fit to go to the beach about four months of the year where I'm from."

"Why can't you go the other eight?"

"Because there's snow on the sand and ice in the water. If you wanna come stay wit' me in December and hit the beach, you can feel free. I'll be the chick waiting for you at home in the flannel PJs with Coltrane on my stereo, a bottle of wine at my elbow and a good book in my hands with a good dog on my cold feet while the snow falls and the wind howls outside, a'ight?"

She painted the picture so well with her words he could practically hear the jazz and taste the wine. He almost wanted that winter night. Not just that night, but that night with her. He'd come in from doing something outside. No doubt she'd make him do the shovelling due to his 'big man' attitude. She'd be waiting with a woolly blanket on a cozy couch, two wine glasses on the table, the stereo already playing softly. She might have fallen asleep while she waited for him to come back. He'd wake her with his cold hands against her cheeks. Watch her wake up slowly, smile up at him. Open her arms to take him into them. He'd lean down, they'd kiss. The dog would be banished off her feet because he would shortly need to be able to pull those flannel PJs off over them. He was getting in over his head. He shook off those thoughts. "So, that sounds almost ok. What's the downside?"

"In winter there is no Skyline. It ceases to exist from December first until May thirty first. The only way I can put it away and not drive it is to pretend it's gone. It's the same with my RX-7. My Altima has studded snow tires and gets oil undercoated every year and is rusting out anyway. I, the queen of speeding, have to slow it down. Tow trucks happen, batteries die, cars crash, schools get closed. We shovel, a lot." She grinned up at him. "The only things I like about winter are long evenings with nothing better to do than stay inside and keep warm—well, I like those when I'm attached to someone to keep warm with at any rate—and snowboarding and skiing."

"This dog that keeps your feet warm, what kind is it?"

"He is a Border Collie."

"Who's got him now?"

"My mom. You like dogs?"

"Like dogs fine. Never had time or a place for one though."

"Yeah, they're a lot of work. Mom helps out a lot with mine. I wouldn't take very good care of him if she didn't, I have to admit. He's pretty lazy but not as lazy as he'd have to be if mom didn't walk him when she walked her own dog."

"I woulda taken you for liking big dogs."

"I do. I was just a kid when I got Sam. He's my first dog, first one in the paper I went to look at. He ran right up to me with this crazy dog look on his face, jumped up on his hind legs, wrapped his front legs around my waist and just smiled this great doggie smile at me. And he's not small. He weighs about fifty five pounds, all of it stubborn, ignorant male. We get along great. He's got this devious streak in him a mile wide." She grinned. "He'd fuck me over for something he wanted that I wouldn't give him, but then he'd think better of it, after the fact. He's a shoot first, ask later kinda dog."

"Kinda like his owner." Vince grinned back.

"He's mommy's boy."

"Mommy?"

"I tell my mom I'll never be giving her grandkids so she better be content with spoiling the granddog."

The hostess spotted them before he could ask the follow-up question he clearly wanted to ask. "Vincent!" the older Italian woman exclaimed.

Vince addressed her by name and they were shown to a nice table, out of the way but with a window view. Tempest felt the woman's speculative look as she sat herself down. "Dovreste estrarre la sedia per la signora graziosa!" she said to Vince in rapid-fire Italian, admonishing him for not helping his female companion into her chair.

"Sono spiacente," he answered, offering his apology, knowing full well that Tempest understood at worst a bit of what was said and at best all of it.

"Sono addestramento tranquillo lui in queste cose," Tempest told the Italian woman, grinning as she told the older lady she wasn't done training Vince in the ways of a gentlemen just yet. She was rewarded for her efforts when the woman, who she was fast coming to realize must be the wife of the owner, laughed out loud.

"Is good, Signora. That is good." She left them with menus.

"Not done training me yet, huh?"

"I guess not. You didn't know enough to pull out my chair when the lady who watches you for such things was around. You need work, V."

"Just pick what you're gonna eat so we can order when she comes back."

"Alright. Shit! You must have one hell of a metabolism."

"What makes you say that?"

"When you get hungry you get irritable. Since you're always irritable you must always be hungry."

"There are definitely times when you make sure I'm not irritable. I mean, getting out of the shower this afternoon I was almost mellow." He looked at her with one eyebrow raised.

She was ashamed of herself for the blush she felt redden her cheeks. "If that's what it takes to make you mellow, I don't foresee you getting to be mellow too often. I'd like to live to see twenty, thanks."

"Are you gonna send me to bed without my supper tonight?" The look on his face made it clear what he was implying had nothing to do with the kind of food found in Mia's kitchen.

"I don't know. Depends on how the rest of this afternoon goes."

"I guess we'll see. What are you having?"

"Spaghetti and meatballs. You?"

"That's it? You're in a real Italian restaurant and you want spaghetti and meatballs?"

"I like spaghetti and meatballs. What's wrong with it?"

"You could pick something off the adult menu. Not something you ate out of a can when you were in grade school."

"Hey, I'll have you know that Strand Man was pretty cool!"

"He was on a can of junkie garbage you ate when you were ten."

"Will it make you happier if I start with a caeser salad?"

"And then have tortellini rose instead of spaghetti."

"Ok, fine. You order for me and I'll eat what I get, ok?"

"She'll like that. It'll look like you've taught me some form of gentlemanly behaviour in the short time we've been sitting here."

Tempest smiled. "Maybe I did."

"Maybe." The look on his face clearly showed he didn't think so, and if he did, he wouldn't be pleased about it. At all.

The lady, who Tempest later came to find out was a distant cousin of Mia and Dominic and had known them and Vince since they were small children, returned, looked pleased to allow Vince to order for both of them and returned a short time later with their food. Tempest started to eat, taking small bites and working to keep her different foods from mixing as she always did. She watched as Vince demolished the food placed in front of him. He was done long before she was, and sat watching her for the rest of the time it took her to get to the point where she couldn't eat anymore. He then finished what she hadn't. They sat a while after, letting dinner settle, before Vince stood up and started for the door.

"What about a check, a tip? Normal pre leaving the restaurant stuff."

"Don't worry about it."

She thought about fighting with him, caught a look at his face, and thought better of it. She still wasn't in the mood to really fight with him, and she could tell this issue could swiftly become one. He hollered good-bye to everyone as he held the door open for her to go out. She turned around to wave good-bye to the nice Italian lady before she stepped onto the sidewalk and pulled her shades out of her hair. It was sad to think it was the first and likely only time she'd ever meet the woman who'd made it ok for her to tease Vince mercilessly without him being able to tease back. "So now what?" she asked Vince, hoping to keep her mind occupied.

"Dunno. Any requests?"

"Roll me to the car. I'm stuffed."

"You didn't even finish your whole dinner," he accused, even as he crouched down in front of her, locking his hands under her ass when she climbed onto his back. He stood up and started toward his car, piggybacking her.

"It was like they thought they were feeding you twice. I can't eat like you. But I doubt very many people can."

"Ha ha. What do you want to do for the rest of the afternoon before we go home and face the music?"

"I didn't do anything wrong. You're the one who got up late, missed breakfast, pissed off Mia, blew off work. I was just reading, innocent as could be. Then I got sucked into an afternoon of sin by you, the ultimate corruptor of good girls everywhere."

"You're a good girl at some things, but innocent and good in general are two things I won't give you."

"I'm sweet and innocent."

"If you can sell me that, I'll buy that bridge you want to sell too."

She laughed. "Ok, ok. You got me. As to what I want to do while you're still on the lamb, I don't know. I don't know a thing about this place."

"Let's just drive around and see what we see then." Vince set her down beside the passenger side door of his car.

"Sure," she agreed with a shrug and got back in the car. They drove around for awhile before they drove past a carnival. "Let's go in there," she said as she pointed.

"Seriously?" he asked. It was clear he thought she had to be perpetrating a cruel joke against him.

"Yeah! Can we?"

"Why not?" he gave in. They were loud, noisy and often dirty, but why shouldn't they spend the rest of their afternoon in one? He figured her sarcasm was wearing off on him. Yet he couldn't deny her what she wanted just yet. The memory of her sobbing on the couch was still too fresh. He'd do almost anything not to have to deal with her tears again.

She somehow conned him into getting on several of the more wild rides with her. It wasn't that he didn't like the rides, or that they made him ill, he just hadn't been to a carnival in so long he'd forgotten that he actually didn't mind the adrenaline rush of being flung upside down on something called 'The Zipper'.

Once they were done with the rides, she challenged him to see who could win the bigger stuffed animal at the shooting games. She surprised him by winning. And he'd really tried.

"Which one do you want?" she asked him.

"You pick. I don't want a damn teddy bear."

"I won it so I get to give it to you. Which one?" She smirked up at him playfully. The guy running the booth snorted behind his hand. Vince sent him a nasty look that had his face sobering very quickly. "Fine, I'll pick." She did so, and Vince picked his slightly smaller winnings. They rode a few more rides and played a few more games before heading for home. It was going on seven before they pushed through the front door. "He's yours. I won him for you and I'll remind you that means I'm a better shot than you."

"Beginner's luck," he growled.

"Not a chance," Jesse broke in from the door of the living room. He'd gotten up off the couch when he'd heard Vince's car pull into the drive. He was relieved to find Tempest had been out with Vince, and that both of them had lived to tell of the day they'd had, hadn't killed each other. "Cuz here has been shooting competitively since she was thirteen."

"You didn't mention that when you challenged me." Vince looked down at Tempest, one eyebrow raised in question.

"I had a funny feeling you weren't exactly a novice yourself, and that you didn't learn what you know about accuracy on a firing range or perfect it in competitions."

"Ok, you got me. You still coulda mentioned you knew your way around a firearm."

"And take away the satisfaction of creaming you big time? Dream on. You're stuck with a gigantic stuffed turtle for my trouble."

"Well, you're taking this slightly less gigantic panda with you for mine."

"Where the fuck were you today?" Dom broke into the light hearted conversation the three had been having with his question growled from where he stood in the hallway leading to the kitchen. It was clearly addressed to Vince.

"Got pissed off early and decided not to risk killing you all," Vince answered with an indifferent shrug.

"But you simmered down enough to go buy stuffed animals?"

"Won them."

"Where?"

"At a carnival," Tempest finally broke in. "Sorry, it's all my fault, really. I was contemplating the state of the world and other morose topics this morning when V found me and he decided I couldn't be left alone when I was so distraught. So he spent the day trying to cheer me up. Rather heroic of him, really."

Jesse caught an undercurrent of tension running between Dom and Vince. "Say cuz, let's go rent some movies to watch tonight, ok?"

"Sure," she sensed something in Jesse's voice that made her give in to him without question. "Get your keys."

They headed out together and got in the Jetta. Tempest was sure that Vince had wanted to have something to say about them running off, but had decided to keep it to himself. "They gonna fight?"

Jesse seemed to think about that question. "I'd guess so. Dom likes order and he doesn't like it when people disregard the plan. Why did you and Vince spend the afternoon together anyway?"

"I was so down this morning. I never saw the like Jess. I mean, you know I can be kinda off for a day after a party, but nothing like this. I was curled up on the couch trying not to let anyone find out I was having a good cry but he musta heard me and took pity on me, hung out with me in the house for awhile before he decided he was going out to eat and offered to let me tag along. It wasn't really something planned. It just sorta happened."

Jesse nodded as he assimilated this information. "I gather Mia told him off about you this morning."

"How so?" That explains a lot. Tempest studied Jesse through narrowed eyes, waiting to hear his answer.

"She told him that it wasn't fair for him to be involved with you when you didn't know he was just using you because you were going home soon."

"That's not fair! I'm not being used." Tempest started to get indignant. "What, a woman can't decide if she wants to take a relationship for what's offered? Not every woman needs to have commitments and promises for the future! Who's she to say I can't be happy to take what's offered in the spirit it's offered in for as long as we both want what we want? Who's to say that all I want isn't what I'm getting."

"Calm down T. I told her you knew the score and didn't care and she still said that it makes Vince an asshole for being glad about it. She thinks your nice and doesn't think that you're going to end up being as ok with things as you think you are right now."

Since Mia's worry echoed some of her own thoughts from earlier she found it hard to totally fault Mia for thinking that way. But she was still an adult who didn't need Mia to protect her from her own decisions. "It's nice to know she cares. But it's still my life. The only problem I see is that I came down here to spend time with you and it feels like I've seen more of Vince."

"You didn't tell me to go to work today. If I'da known you'd wake up at lunch time not supper I wouldn't have."

"It was just that strange mood I got into Jess. I normally wouldn't have woken up much before now. Tomorrow, you make plans and we'll do whatever you want. Even if it's going to mean I have to get up at eight am."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously."

"Sweet."