Jane took in a shaky breath, trying to fill her lungs and ground herself, with only the most limited success. She was hyper-aware of Gunther holding her, the length of his body pressed against hers, his lips still teasing her neck and ear with delicious, shiver-inducing little kisses… but she was even more aware of the fact that Algernon was approaching from somewhere behind her. It made her feel almost heart-stoppingly vulnerable and she tensed up, hands clenching in the obscenely expensive material of Gunther's suit, almost as if she were anticipating the sensation of a literal knife plunging into her back… and why not? Algernon had backstabbed her before, undeniably.
She really wasn't getting enough air; her breath was hitching and, she realized distantly, she'd started to worry her lip with her teeth. Then Gunther murmured in her ear, "Jane? I've got you."
And suddenly, just like that, she could breathe again.
It was remarkable, really.
It was a tacit declaration of support… no, better than that, of partnership, of, I have your back, and it was exactly what she needed in that moment. How did he know?
She heard Algernon clear his throat behind her; it was an unmistakable sound, impatient, presumptuous. But Gunther, smiling slightly now into her hair, kept them dancing until Algernon was forced to clear his throat again, more insistently this time.
Only then did Gunther stop their swaying, straighten up, and give Jane a subtle nudge, dispersing the little bubble he'd created around the two of them. Jane swallowed hard, and turned to face her ex.
Algernon looked good - of course he did, didn't he always? - all lean lines and custom-tailored suit. And Gunther had been absolutely right; the stitching on his sleeves did match the decor of the hotel. It made him seem cold, as untouchable as a sculpture chiseled from marble, and she resented him for how calm and collected he appeared, while she herself was a riotous tumble of hot distress.
His date for the evening was no one Jane knew, for which she was deeply grateful. She was absolutely gorgeous, though - beautiful almost to the point of being nondescript; just another accessory for the presentation that was Algernon.
Although… it wasn't like Jane to be judgmental or dismissive. Realizing she was being unfair, she looked again, attempting with at least some success to see past the filter of her jaded heart. The girl - no, woman, her mind corrected, though the description could be bettered with the preface "just barely" - appeared young, stupid, and earnestly nice. She was probably just as impressed with the luxe surroundings as Jane had been on her arrival, and Jane actually felt a quick pang of sympathetic camaraderie for her.
After all, Jane had once been young and stupid and nice, naive enough to be taken in by Algernon's perfect facade.
"Jane Turnkey," Algernon said, in a smooth-as-silk voice, one arm snaking possessively around his own date as he spoke, "I confess I am surprised to see you here. I don't recall this sort of event being your particular forte. Was Pepper unavailable, or did she finally take herself off to greener pastures?"
Implying, of course, that Jane, that her company, had little to offer to someone of Pepper's caliber. It was a dig - a not-so-subtle one at that - and it stung.
Behind her, Gunther gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. It wasn't much - just a gentle reminder that she was not alone, and that she could do this.
Breathe, Jane. Shoulders back, chin up.
She flashed Algernon the brightest, the friendliest smile she could muster.
"Not a bit - Pepper is the very soul of loyalty; it would never cross her mind to stray. As it happens, she's in London for the convention next week, so I'm here in her stead." She leaned, ever so slightly, into Gunther's chest. "Though I am finally starting to see the ...appeal of these events."
Algernon's eyes positively glittered with suppressed malevolence. A crack - small, but inarguably there - in his cool demeanor. Jane could see him struggling against the impulse to lash out at her, and conquering it - but barely.
Barely.
His lips pressed into a tight, white line, nostrils actually flaring slightly with the force of the anger, the - jealousy!? - she had just provoked. Turning his attention now to Gunther, Algernon raised one golden eyebrow and sneered. "Algernon DeRobert," he bit out. He did not extend his hand.
Ignoring the slight - indeed, ignoring Algernon altogether - Gunther instead gave a little bow to the woman on Algernon's arm. "Gunther Breech."
"Bunny," the young woman responded, and Jane bit down on her lip again, this time in order to quell a burst of completely inappropriate laughter.
Of course she is.
The girl - the woman - Bunny (for God's sake) - was gawping at Gunther with that same deer-in-the-headlights expression that Jane herself had doubtless sported earlier in the evening. It took several seconds for her to assert enough mastery over herself to give a pretty little titter.
Jane was so amused by her reaction - she understood, really she did - that she almost didn't notice how Algernon's eyes widened ever so slightly at the introduction. There was something there - was that a spark of recognition? - but Jane wasn't able to pin the emotion down with any certainty before it was replaced by plain old untempered spite.
"And you are here with Jane?" Algernon asked in a deceptively laconic tone. "How very interesting. I didn't know she travelled in such… esteemed circles."
Jane felt her breath catch in her throat. Was he mocking her? Did he know? Could he know!?
No, no, oh please God NO -
"We are newly acquainted," Gunther said smoothly, "thanks to the elusive Pepper, actually - a circumstance for which I am deeply and ever increasingly grateful. I find myself rather stunned by my good fortune, in fact." He then turned back to Bunny, making a concerted effort to include her in the conversation. "I see you have been just as fortunate in your company for the evening."
Bunny, bless her sweet, simple little rabbit heart, tittered again. Algernon, jaw clenched, said nothing.
"You look enchanting this evening," Gunther continued, now addressing Algernon's date directly. "It can't have been easy, finding a dress the exact right shade to complement your eyes."
Jane nodded her own agreement as the girl blushed prettily. Her eyes were an unusual and striking tawny-golden color; Jane didn't think she'd ever seen eyes quite that shade before. She found herself sympathizing with Bunny again - feeling almost sorry for her, in fact - because she probably had put a great deal of effort into coordinating her ensemble for tonight.
And Jane was positive - POSITIVE - that Algernon would not even have noticed, let alone complimented her on the thought, the care, that had gone into it all.
To the contrary, he'd probably found some small detail or other to nit-pick in the car.
"I am not sure I approve of you hitting on my date, Mr. Breech." To an outsider it might have sounded as though Algernon was joking - a little jest between two equal but opposing forces - Jane, however, heard the underlying disquietude, the dare she say, anxiety behind it.
It was good - no, it was wonderfullyfantabulouslydisgustinglyamazingly gratifying to know that he was not entirely immune to feelings of insecurity, after all.
It was petty, and she tried to stomp down on the feeling, to quell it before her satisfaction could show on her face, but she must not have been entirely successful because a second later Algernon was sneering at her.
"Since you are so… admiring of my date, though, perhaps we could trade off for a few minutes," Algernon continued. He extricated his arm from Bunny and extended it to Jane. "Would you care to dance?"
Shit. So much for him being thrown off his game. He'd seen her small triumph and known exactly how ruin it.
"How very kind of you to offer, Algernon, but I'm afraid I will have to decline." Jane brought one hand up to her neck - surely the pale skin there was still pink from Gunther's attentions. "I really should return to mingling. It was my whole purpose for attending tonight. I'm sure you won't be too disappointed. Your own partner is so lovely, after all."
"Think nothing of it, Jane; I can see how you'd be reluctant to let such a prize out of your sight." He leaned forward to whisper in her ear. "Just wait until the gossip rags get ahold of this one. They are going to rip - you - apart." He stepped back and looped his arm around Bunny's waist again, one eyebrow quirked at Jane in a gloating little half-smile.
Wait, what?
He knew. HE KNEW.
Algernon practically lived for this sort of event - and Gunther himself seemed fairly well-known - their paths must have crossed at some point and holy shit, Algernon KNEW.
But the press? How would they find out? There wasn't any press in the party as far as she'd seen - just the photographer hired to take pictures of the guests as they arrived. Jane had come alone and had declined having her picture taken, so was Algernon threatening to call the tabloids himself?
He would, too. He would. It would be just the sort of weapon, the sort of half-truth he'd wield to wound her, time and time and time again.
Gunther hadn't heard what Algernon had whispered, but he must have intuited the nature of it. He politely ended his conversation with Bunny, and caught Jane's attention.
"I hate to interrupt, Jane, but I can see that Kathryn is attempting to capture your attention."
"Um, what?"
"Kathryn - she's all a-flutter. Should we venture over to see what she wants before she injures herself?"
"Oh - yes. Of course."
Gunther nodded to Algernon and gave Bunny a small bow. "If you will excuse us."
He captured one of Jane's trembling hands in his own, wrapped his free arm securely around her waist, and led them off the dance floor toward where Kathryn was chatting with a group older gentleman. Before they reached her, though, Gunther steered sharply left - then ducked into one of the many opera-like alcoves that circled the ballroom.
He didn't bother asking if she was alright; it was patently obvious that she wasn't. But he didn't offer her empty, meaningless platitudes either, as so many others might have. In fact, he said nothing at all… for the first couple of minutes, at least. He simply settled her on one of the soft benches, then raised her hand - which was still clasped in his own - and pressed it over his heart, covering and holding it there.
It took several tumultuous moments, but eventually her heart rate slowed; almost, it seemed, matching itself to the steady rhythm of his, which she could feel thrumming reassuringly beneath her hand. The rushing in her ears subsided as well, until she was able to make out the words he'd started murmuring over and over again; a simple, soothing repetition.
"Steady - steady - deep breaths."
Finally, finally, she gulped and whispered, in an only slightly shaky voice, "I am not weak, you know."
"Never would I ever imagine anything so obviously untrue," he said quietly. "But right now you are very, very angry. Moral support, remember?"
Jane managed a small nod.
"Do I want to know what he said?"
She had to swallow again before she could make her voice work well enough to answer. "He said he would tell the press about my date with you. He'd use it to ruin my reputation - damage the company."
"He doesn't have that sort of power, Jane."
Her voice was dull now, almost dead with horror as she contemplated the havoc Algernon was about to wreak on her life. "People believe what they want to believe."
"Jane... I... don't think you have anything to worry about." He sat quietly for a minute, contemplating. Then, "I'll go get us a drink," he said. "Maybe something to eat as well."
He stood up to leave.
"Gunther -" she began.
"Yes?" He paused to study her.
"Nev…nevermind."
He looked at her a second longer, then nodded, turned, and vanished without saying anything more. And that's the last I'll see of him, Jane thought miserably. She wouldn't be at all surprised - nor would she blame him in the least - if Gunther used this opportunity to leave, to simply bail on their… their not-date. Jane was obviously unbalanced. She'd nearly had a panic attack on the dance floor, for fuck's sake.
He was barely out of sight when the alcove darkened again - a new form blocking out the light from the ballroom. Jane looked up, hardly even surprised to find Algernon standing over her.
He'd clearly been lying in wait.
Distantly, she wondered what he'd done with his date.
"Ah, Jane." His cultured voice was tinged with amused condescension. "How very much like you to scuttle off and hide." He glanced around innocently, as though he didn't know full well that Gunther had just left. "I see your date has abandoned you - no real surprise there - you do manage to chase off the most impressive of catches, don't you?"
"What do you want, Algernon?" Her voice was flat, but it wasn't the sort of flatness she'd have liked to project. Not a strong, flinty, unassailable sort of flatness. No, this was the flatness of resignation; defeat.
This man was going to ruin her. He knew it and he knew she knew it.
And oh, he was reveling in it.
Jane felt very nearly ill.
"Oh, I don't want anything," he said smoothly, "except maybe to congratulate you on your rather ...significant upgrade." He chuckled, a mirthless, evil little sound. "Quite the accomplishment for someone such as yourself. Though I am not entirely surprised - I always felt you stood to gain quite a bit more from our association than I did - even as short and unremarkable as it was. Still, I must say… I never would've taken you for a common golddigger. Although it looks as if you're having no more success with this current… venture… than you did in keeping my interest." he leaned forward to whisper in her ear. "I am going to tell everyone about this."
It confused her, his comment - where in God's name did gold digging enter into this!? But much more than that, it simply hurt - the implication that Gunther had abandoned her, coming so soon after she'd had that exact thought herself - and that Algernon was going to tell the press she hadn't even been able to keep the attention of her paid companionship.
God, that fucking smarted. Even if it was, apparently, true.
Sluggish at first but rapidly mounting, Jane felt the anger, that white hot feeling she associated with his betrayal - start to rise in her, overtaking her thought process, clouding her vision. Tinting it slightly red.
"Not everyone is like you, Algernon." she hissed. "Just a vain, grasping, status-obsessed, shallow bastard!"
"You are adorable when you're mad." Sliding onto the bench beside her, he reached out and ran his fingers lightly over the bare skin of her shoulder. "Perhaps I should have made you angry more often - I might not have felt the need to explore other options quite so regularly."
Jane slapped his hand away. "Keep your hands off me."
"Not too smart, Jane." His voice dropped to a husky whisper. "I could be enticed to hold my tongue, you know… if you were to play nice." Quick as a striking snake, he grabbed the back of her neck and covered her mouth with a sloppy, disgusting kiss.
She jerked her head away, nausea surging within her as Algernon simply latched onto the place where her throat met her jaw, instead.
Face contorted with revulsion, Jane jabbed him, quite neatly, in the throat.
He rocked away from her and shot back to his feet, coughing. "You bitch. You'll whore yourself out, but -" He stepped menacingly toward her, raising one hand to strike.
Her martial arts training took over - she could almost hear the little click as it happened - and Jane just acted.
She propelled herself to her own feet, ducking under his blow in the process and, taking in the almost comically surprised look on his face, grabbed his lapel to pull him toward her. The motion threw him off balance, and just as he started to stumble, she used her free hand to punch him squarely in the nose.
There was a sickening crack and his face exploded in a spray of blood. Jane released his suit and used both hands to shove him backward, managing to avoid any spatter to her gown. She really liked this gown. Algernon, meantime, reeled out of the alcove and into the ballroom proper, bringing both hands up to cover the ruined pulp of what had lately been his nose.
"Yew unging ung!"
Jane started after Algernon again, no longer thinking clearly - no longer thinking at all - just burning, suddenly, to finish what she'd started... when out of nowhere, Gunther reappeared. He was bearing two drinks and a small plate of food - he hadn't abandoned her, after all - and he quickly inserted himself between Jane and the bloody, hissing mess before her.
Setting down the food and drinks on a nearby table, he placed both hands on her shoulders and steered her wordlessly across the room, behind the bar, and through a pair of double doors that seemed to lead to the kitchen.
"Stay." His voice was tight with… something Jane couldn't quite identify. But whatever it was, she didn't think it was directed at her.
"I- you - he-!"
"I know." He squeezed her shoulders, gently. "Stay. Please. Just for a moment. I'll be right back."
She managed a single, mute nod.
Gunther strode back out of the double doors to whisper something to a large man who, Jane only now realized, had followed them from the ballroom. Party security, no doubt. Gunther pointed in Algernon's direction, made a grim little hand gesture, then turned and came straight back to her. Grabbing her by the hand, he pulled her through the steamy, bustling kitchen to a service elevator.
Jane was so angry she was only peripherally aware of where they were going. Just who in the hell did he think he was, manhandling her like this?!
Rationally, she understood that her anger was misdirected. She was still boiling over with fury at Algernon, and Gunther was simply the nearest - actually, at the moment, he was the only - available outlet. She realized this, but the knowledge was distant and academic. It did nothing to blunt the force of her rage. She was crackling with it, damn near throwing off sparks. The elevator doors slid closed and she immediately yanked her hand out of his.
"What was that!?" She demanded, practically spitting the words. "I don't need you to come - charging in - like some dark knight riding to my rescue."
Algernon would have smirked, if not laughed outright, at her emotional display. Gunther did neither. He backed up a step, as it was obvious she wanted space, and looked at her very seriously.
"I think it is crystal clear," he said, "to everyone in that room, that you are no helpless damsel in distress. Perhaps, Just Jane, I should hire you to protect me."
She stared at him for a beat, then two, then three, fists and teeth clenched hard. Then she pulled in a shuddery breath and sagged against the elevator wall, suddenly unsure whether she was about to laugh or cry.
What was wrong with her? Gunther didn't deserve this. He'd been nothing but a perfect gentleman all evening. It was unfair to take her anger at Algernon out on him - and doubly inexcusable since she knew that was what she was doing.
"Fuck," she croaked, "Gunther, I'm sorry." And how many times was this, that she'd needed to apologize for her behavior during their very brief acquaintanceship? It was mortifying. She pressed the heel of one hand hard against her forehead, trying desperately to recenter herself, regain some shred of equilibrium. "Oh my God, what just happened? What did I just do!? Did I wreck the whole party? I created a public scene! What if he calls the police? Gunther, I punched him in his smarmy, bastard face!"
"Yes, yes you did. That was astoundingly hot."
"I am being serious. Jesus, he could have me arrested!"
"I am too. I imagine you had a valid reason for laying him out?"
"Yes. But it will be his word against mine."
Gunther held out his hand. After only a second's hesitation she slipped hers into it, and he gave her a reassuring squeeze. "It will be his word against the cameras that are mounted in the alcoves. Security probably pulled the footage before they turned him over to the police."
"Cameras...?"
"I doubt Mr. DeRobert's notions of blackmail will hold very much water."
All the fight drained out of her. "I suppose it would be your job to know."
Gunther appeared highly amused by this for some reason, his eyes suddenly alight with subtle mirth. "Yes," he said. "It would." He tugged her forward into a hug.
She went willingly, grateful for his unfaltering reassurance and support. They stayed that way for a few minutes, her head nestled against his collarbone, his chin resting on the crown of her hair.
Steady, she thought, repeating to herself the same words he'd used to ground her earlier, in the alcove. Steady. Deep breaths.
It took quite a while for it to dawn on her that the elevator in which they were currently standing did not seem to be doing… much of anything.
Jane pushed herself up but didn't step away. She wasn't quite ready to lose the security of his arms around her. Actually, she wasn't ready at all. She was a bit puzzled, though. "Gunther - either this is the longest elevator ride in history, or we are not moving."
Gunther chuffed a quiet laugh. "I haven't pushed the button yet. I figured it was better to keep you contained in case you hulked out again."
She gave him a disapproving frown. "You're teasing me."
"Never," he said, his voice a bit rough around the edges and his eyes suddenly sparking with something that was not humor - no, not at all. "After witnessing firsthand what you're capable of, I wouldn't dare."
He bent down - hesitated for the smallest of moments - probably weighing the pros of kissing her against the cons of getting punched in the throat - then brushed his lips lightly against her own. When she didn't move away, he cupped her jaw - his hand was startlingly hot against her skin - and kissed her again.
He'd had his mouth on her before, but she'd never actually tasted him - he tasted like whiskey and heat and promises and sex. It was potent, and perfect, and made her head spin. His touch was light, tender - and completely at odds with what she wanted from him. She reached up - all impatience and sudden, staggering need - and with more force than she'd intended, pulled him down to her, crushing his lips against her own.
He made a muffled sound and brought his other hand up to first caress her cheek, then stroke the hair at her temple, fingers toying restlessly with the tiny pearls there as he kissed her back, madly, furiously. Her head was spinning and they were kissing over and over, three times, four - breaking apart for air only to be drawn back together again, and again, and it wasn't perfect, but then it was -
She tangled her fingers into his hair, wanting, needing him closer. He groaned into her mouth - a deep, feral sound that sent shivers racing all over her body. And it wasn't enough, Jane realized with a sudden stark, painful clarity. She would never be able to get enough, and she only had him for this one night - but she would take what she could get; whatever he was willing to give her. Take it and be grateful. So she kissed him more deeply still, opening herself to him, reveling in the hard length of muscle against her.
Jane slipped one hand beneath his jacket, remembering how he'd pressed her palm over his heart in the alcove, wanting to feel that steady, strong rhythm again - but his heart was racing now, beating a harsh staccato in time with her own - and he shuddered at her touch. It made her feel powerful, yet desperate somehow too - she was a mess of conflicting emotions, passion and fear and excitement and need, and sadness - there was such sadness there because she liked this, God, she liked him, but she also knew that it wasn't, it couldn't be, reciprocal in any real or meaningful way.
This was his job, she was merely a client - and probably one of the most high-maintenance ones he'd ever had, at that. He was good at what he did - excellent, in point of fact - and he seemed to be genuinely enjoying it at the moment, but… he'd probably be equally relieved to see the back of her come morning. And her heart cracked just a little bit at the thought.
So she knew, she knew, that she shouldn't be doing this, but oh dear God, she wanted to.
And so she did. She let the worry of who and what they were fall away from her and simply lost herself in the moment. Lost herself in him.
A little while later, when he pulled back once more to catch his breath, Jane actually gave a small, breathy whine of protest - and he could have smirked at her wild impatience, could have laughed at the embarrassingly detrimental effect he had on her control, but he didn't. Instead he recaptured her lips with a passion that simultaneously stole her breath, and gave it back again.
She wrapped both her arms around his neck, surging upward against him, knocking him slightly off balance so that he actually staggered back a step, into the corner of the elevator; his own hands dropped away from her face, one arm snaking around her waist, the other hand dipping lower still, coming to rest on the swell of her buttocks, pulling her hips flush against his, almost grinding her into him. And then any semblance of rational thought was utterly - mercifully - gone.
Banished far, far away.
When he pulled back yet again, this time to fumble with something in his pocket - a card which he used to make the elevator begin its climb - the steel color of his eyes had deepened to a dark, stormy gray. "Jane, I- " he tried between sharp, nearly tortured little bursts of breath, "I want to t-"
She cut him off with a kiss of her own, then dragged her lips lower to nip at where his pulse thrummed in his neck.
"I want you too," she whispered hoarsely, before licking her way back up to the corner of his mouth, "...Gunther."
She really liked his name, she realized, in a far-off, fogged up way; she'd never met anyone else with that particular moniker, she didn't think. It was strong and masculine and definitely out of the ordinary - just like the man who bore it.
For his part, Gunther shivered at the sound of it, eyes falling shut, a crease almost of pain furrowing his brow, his hands clenching against her - his control, Jane intuited, almost entirely gone.
Then they were kissing again, kissing frantically as the elevator rose, and there was no more talking.