AN: Ugh, so long to post! But I've been so busy and there was a scene that took forever to get out, but then it finally worked. So. Thanks again to all the reviewers and favoriters/followers :) It means a lot to me. Anyway, here we go.

Ch 08 - Nice and Hot

I was struggling for air, but was not being able to be breathing easily past hands pressed to my throat. I was being held to table by many men, being first night after capture. They were leering at me from all around, their ugly, hateful faces sneering and chuckling amongst themselves at their 'luck' at finding virgin for their crusade of ethnic cleansing. They laughed when I was insisting on being Russian, mocking me despite my only passable Serbian.

Rough hand touched my cheek, mockingly gentle, and I was trying to be turning away from it, but could not. My stomach was in knots, fear twisting my insides. They cut my clothes away, men laughing darkly as my body was being exposed to chilled air. I closed my eyes when another hand was touching me, wanting desperately to be telling them I was just girl, this was wrong, but words would not be getting past those terrible fingers closing off my airway. They were wrenching my legs apart, then, and as first man took his place between them, my mind was torn with feelings of shame and anger, revulsion, heart hammering in my throat. I struggled hard, but they were just laughing again, holding me easily. I cried out silently as he was taking grip on my hips, fingers digging cruelly into flesh, and then he push-…

I jolted awake and was clawing at my throat, gasping and sweating. It was taking me moment to be remembering I was in church on 3rd Street, not in some hellish prison camp on other side of planet. I sat up slowly, panting and looking into shadows of room carefully. My thin, brown blanket slipped down, revealing the purple tank top I had been wearing to bed. I was knowing no one was there, it was foolish, but I almost always was doing it when I was waking from nightmare. My fear was slowly ebbing away, but then I was jumping at knock on door, clutching blanket to me as my heart tried to be leaping from chest.

"Yo, Ivana, you ok?" Johnny asked, voice muffled by door.

I looked at my phone. What was Johnny doing here at four in morning? And bothering me no less. I must have been making noises loud enough for him to be hearing.

"I am fine!" I called. It was part lie, part truth, but I was being as best I could, so close enough.

Johnny opened door anyway, peeking head in. "Hope you're decent," he said, chuckling.

I kept telling myself he would not be hurting me, he would not be hurting me. I was probably looking as terrified as I was feeling, despite trying not to.

"You don't look fine," he noted. "Bad dream?"

I nodded, pulling blanket closer. I really needed my own place. Money was coming in more and more as I was taking on jobs for Saints, and I would be having lock then, and no unwanted visitors when I was telling them I was okay.

"Why are you being here?" I asked warily. Nothing I could be coming up with was pleasant, but that was maybe just my paranoia. I was used to the church being quiet at this hour.

"Eesh and I had a fight," he told me with shrug. "Didn't wanna sleep on her couch, my place is bein' fumigated, so here I am grabbin' a pew and hearin' you cryin' out behind a closed door. You sure you all right?"

I nodded. His story was making sense, but I was still wanting my own place where people would at least be having to be trying to be walking in on me.

And hopefully be making enough noise to be waking me so I could be shooting them.

"You wanna grab breakfast or something?" Johnny asked. "I ain't really tired and Freckle Bitch's serves a mean egg an' cheese, The Drip."

I grinned at him. "Get out so I can be getting dressed. The answer to 'are you wanting Freckle Bitch's' is always being da, er, yes."

#

After Freckle Bitch's Johnny drove us to small, empty field. I frowned, but he was already getting out of Venom and walking into distance. I reached under hoody and thumbed safety off on my VICE 9. If he was trying any funny business I would be ready.

"Storm drain entrance is right over here," he called back to me.

I was catching up to him, looking down into concrete pit with large concrete pipe leading into black tunnel.

"Why are we being here?" I asked carefully. It was still being dark, and no cars were passing. It was feeling lonely and desolate. Why would Johnny be taking me to this place?

"Lin and I set up a shootin' range under the streets in this chamber we found," he replied. "It ain't far inside. Now, we ain't got no fancy motors to wheel targets back to ya and shit, but it's free and discreet."

"Oh," I replied quietly, feeling a little bad for thinking so poorly of him. "You and Lin? You are not seeming to be liking each other much."

"We got a history, that bitch and I," he explained, though was not really elaborating, either. "We like each other all right, but it's so easy to get under her skin I just can't help myself."

"History, huh," I muttered, scrambling down into pit.

"You got a lighter on you?" he asked. "We always used Lin's lighter to find our way through the dark. Got some portable lights down there, though, once we're in."

"So you and Lin were sneaking into this dark, lonely place often," I stated flatly. "Alone?"

"Mostly," Johnny said with a chuckle. "You askin' a lotta questions about Lin tonight. You never talk this much."

I pulled out my lighter and was lighting it up, ignoring his accusing tone and moving into darkness. It was smelling mildewy and wet, light from lighter's flame flickering and dancing.

"Make a left," Johnny told me, and I did.

"And now a right," he was telling me.

And there was chamber, huge, with lots of debris all across floor. My lighter was barely lighting far wall. Tree branches, trash, newspapers, but then I was seeing targets being set up along one wall, brick peppered with many holes.

And then lighter was burning me, and I cried out, letting flame be dying and plunging us into blackness.

Johnny chuckled. "You need to ditch that shitty lighter."

I rolled my eyes even though he could not be seeing them.

"Now where did you go…" he mused, voice suddenly close behind me.

I pulled my pistol, aiming in direction of his voice, eyes straining in darkness to be making out his form, anything.

"Ah ha!" Johnny shouted. "There you are, now I got ya!"

Fuck it, I started squeezing down on trigger. It was stupid to be letting him get me alone down in some dark hole.

I was being blinded by light suddenly. Lamps around room were blazing like sun at midday, garish and harsh.

"Whoa, ease down there you crazy bitch," Johnny laughed, holding out both hands to be warding me off. "What's got you so spooked?"

"I was thinking I was hearing something," I lied.

"Yeah, it's called me stumblin' around in the fuckin' dark," he grumbled. "Ammo cans are over there, help yourself. It's pretty loud down here, you might want some earplugs."

Shrugging, I went over for ear plugs, putting foam cylinders into my ears. They were feeling strange as they were expanding, tickling my ear canals teasingly.

"So, Russia huh?" Johnny asked casually, and I was surprised I was hearing him despite ears packed with squishy foam.

I nodded, picking up paper target and walking to be pinning it to wall over shot up one.

"What's your name anyway?" he asked as I was returning.

I shook my head. "Is not important, is reminding me of bad time in my life."

"So, you from Moscow or somethin'?" he tried instead, completely dropping question about my name. Good.

I smirked. "Russia is being largest country in world, there is more to it than just Moscow."

Johnny grinned at me. "So can you do that little dance with the crossed arms and leg-kicking?"

I rolled my eyes, pointing my VICE 9 down range with teacup grip and fired.

"I'll take that as a no…"

I chuckled, firing again and hitting bullseye.

"You point that thing like you know how to use it," Johnny told me. "Who taught you? It wasn't Troy, he tilts his shit to the side like some wannabe banger... Lin? She's not bad."

My mind suddenly traveled back in time, to forest on other side of world. I could be smelling crisp air, scent of pine trees tickling my nose, and I was hearing his voice again, mind remembering the Serbian and Russian pidgin we were using, feeling his hands positioning me just so. I was being thirteen again, feeling my lip curl into smile of remembrance.

"Here, get a feel for this while I go pull in the target to 10 meters," Dmitar said, handing me a somewhat bulky, large black pistol. Dmitar was a couple years older, tall, and built like a ballet dancer, lithe but strong.

The pistol was rugged-looking and felt solid, grip a little too large for my hands, I think, but I could point it and reach the trigger.

"Tokarev57," Dmitar explained as he returned. "Yugoslavian variant of the Tovarev33, the Russian original."

I grinned. "You know me well."

Dmitar smiled. "I thought you might like it. It's very similar, the main differences being that the 57 has a safety and the magazine holds an extra 7.62 round."

I thumbed the safety off and pointed it down range. "Ugh, the sight is… ugly."

Dmitar chuckled. "It's a combat pistol for combat range, not a rifle. Try it."

Uncertainly, I squeezed off a round, and the pistol jumped in my hands. I missed completely.

"Try again," Dmitar urged gently.

I fired again, and missed. Again. I was growing frustrated. "What am I doing wrong?"

Dmitar came up behind me, and I was suddenly very aware of his closeness.

"Here," he said quietly, adjusting my arms for me.

When his hands touched mine, it was electric and I swallowed.

"Your grip is too tight," he murmured into my ear, breath hot. It tingled wonderfully. He put my hands into a teacup grip. "Now squeeze the trigger gently. Pistols are not as easy to shoot as rifles."

Nodding, I fired. The bullet tore through the paper at least, but was up and to the left. I hadn't actually hit the target.

Dmitar chuckled. "You're getting better. Try again, you're still gripping too hard, don't try to crush it when you squeeze the trigger."

I pulled the trigger once more, and the bullet was still a little high and to the left, but I'd hit the middle ring of the target at least. "I hit it!"

Dmitar gently kicked my ankles, urging my legs a bit further apart, pressing against me. I bit my lower lip, blushing furiously at the intimate contact.

"There, remember this stance," he whispered gently into my ear, almost seductively.

Something low inside me tightened, and my breathing grew fainter.

"Pistol practice?" Darko said from behind us, and we parted immediately.

I was blushing terribly, and hated it. Darko wasn't my boyfriend, why should I be so embarrassed? He was not even very attractive, not like Dmitar, though he was very confident.

"H-hey Darko," I said, a little shakily. "Dmitar is showing me how to shoot a pistol."

"I can see," the older boy said with a chuckle. "Close to a bullseye in three shots, he must be a good teacher indeed."

"Sure," I said, nodding.

"The Tokarev design is rugged and powerful," Darko explained, pulling his own pistol one-handed and firing repeatedly at the target. He emptied the magazine, and the grouping was all in the bullseye.

"Impressive," I said, a little bit in awe. "Most impressive."

Darko shrugged, swapping magazines. "I have had a lot of practice."

Dmitar was frowning, but remained silent for a moment.

"So," Dmitar finally said. "Where is the next op? Any ideas?"

Darko nodded. "I overheard Niko and Goran arguing about her doing something."

I frowned. "And what is that?"

Darko shrugged. "I don't know, but it won't be until tonight, so you have time for more shooting practice."

Without waiting for a response, Darko wandered away and left us alone.

"What was that about?" I asked, trying to focus my thoughts. I took aim at the target.

"I am not sure," Dmitar said to me.

I fired, and this time clipped the edge of the bullseye. "Take that!"

I smiled again as sewer came back into focus. "Nyet, was boy from when I was being younger."

"Nothing like shootin' shit with old friends, right? He stay back home? Or was this here?"

"He is dead," I told him, squeezing off another shot at target and hitting bullseye.

#

As we were leaving sewer, it was dark and my phone was exploding with several text messages. Pulling it out, I saw all were being from Lin.

'Hey I need you, call me.'

'Hello? Today Ivana.'

'Where the hell are you?'

'DAMN IT BITCH WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU?'

I was wincing at that one. Then my phone notified me of three voicemails, all from Lin. Shit. I did not even bother listening to them and just called her.

"The pussy calls?" Johnny asked, almost sounding hopeful. I punched him in arm, shoving at him playfully as Lin was picking up. He was asshole, but in good way.

'What the hell Ivana, I've been tryin' to reach you all day!' she growled, sounding very pissed off. 'Where've you been?'

"I was being at shooting range with Johnny," I told her. "I am guessing there was no phone signal underground."

'He took you there? Asshole. Forget it, get your ass down to Glitz, and it goes without sayin' no flags.'

Lin was then hanging up on me.

"Can you be dropping me off at Glitz, comrade?" I asked him. "Lin is needing me to be meeting her there, and soon. She is sounding pissed."

Johnny chuckled. "When does she not sound pissed? Yeah, I'll run you by there. You two been spendin' a lotta time together, huh? Outside of work, that is."

I shrugged, it was really being none of his business, and she could be asking me same of him. "Just be taking me to night club, Johnny."

#

Music was loud and thumping inside, bass pulsing and drums hitting hard. I wandered around club, making my way to dance floor before spotting Lin. Our eyes met, and her face lit up, eyes sparkling, and she was smiling at me. We met at edge, and I bit my lower lip, grinning softly as she was taking my hand, leading me onto dance floor.

"Try not to look so conspicuous," she advised gently.

I nodded, turning my gaze back to her. She seemed to have been cooling off before I was getting here, at least. Did I dare to be hopeful it was being my presence that was calming her instead?

"You did good," she said lightly, putting her hands on my hips. "But I'm not through with you, yet."

I smiled, crossing my wrists behind her neck and letting her lead. A few people watched us, mostly hungry-looking and probably horny old men, but I ignored them.

"Those cars you stole have been rigged to blow when the engine reaches a high enough temperature," she told me, taking us across the floor, hips swaying gently, and she was leaning closer. "I need you to make sure those cars get nice and hot," she breathed against my ear, warm and soft. My body was tingling with anticipation, but she was pulling away slightly, smirking down at me.

"Now, there's a race going down in Chinatown tonight," she went on. "And I think you should give them some tough competition. I know these guys, if you're in the lead for the final stretch, they're gonna hit the nitrous to blow past you. When they do…"

Lin was leaning into me again. "…Boom…" she whispered, fingertips trailing up my lower back, and I shivered, nodding.

"As soon as those cars are wrecked, get the hell outta there," she told me urgently. "You're no good to m-… us dead."

I swore I was seeing Lin's cheeks coloring for once, and smiled.

She looked me up and down for moment, grinning. "Thanks for the dance. Now hurry up, you gotta race to win."

I sighed, watching her go as she was sauntering off. She did things to me like no in long time, and I am thinking she was knowing it, even enjoying it. Still, I was being nervous as hell. I was only driving cars for couple weeks, now, and Lin was wanting me to be winning street races?

Well, I would be giving it everything I was having and be going from there. What else could I be doing?

#

I walked outside, and Troy was pulling up in some modified Zircon. It was being dark red with twin black stripes along roof and sides, with big wheels and large muffler tip. Hood was painted with flames, trickling along doors. It was being sort of ugly, but was not my car, so fuck it.

What in hell was Troy doing here, though? Did Lin call him? Was he following me? I was not knowing, but planned to be finding out.

"Hey girl," he said, getting out. "Let's get to the race."

Shrugging, I got into driver's seat, scooting it forward so I could be reaching pedals. I was short, not nearly so tall as Troy.

"Look, I don't care what Lin says," he started as I was pulling away. "You get me next to those cars and I'll take care of the Rollerz, all right? To hell with this lap-race bullshit."

I glanced at him, but said nothing. This was not being Lin's plan, but so long as cars were blowing up, it was okay, da? I took first right, accelerating down street.

"I don't like the idea of Lin goin' under cover," Troy admitted after moment. "You roll with people long enough, an' pretty soon you start thinkin' like 'em."

I frowned, glancing to him again and glowering. Lin was fucking loyal to Saints, I was having no doubt of that. But it might be explaining why he was so conveniently showing up. Had Lin told Julius her plan, and Troy decided to be intervening?

"All right, here they are," he told me, interrupting my thoughts. "I hope Lin followed up on her end of the deal."

Of course she did. Except it was being Samson who was rigging cars and taken them to Rollerz, and I had delivered cars to him. Troy was really seeming to not be liking Lin for some reason. Maybe he was being jealous? Maybe he is wanting me to be seeing Lin in bad light for some reason?

I pulled up to already staged cars, frowning. We were being in last place, having arrived just before race was starting. The starter girl was already in place, having flags above her head and swinging them down.

"Go, Ivana!" Troy yelled, slapping dash several times.

I punched gas, thankful car was being automatic. Killing it at starting line would be embarrassing, but I was getting better.

Rollerz and their cars gained quick lead, but as I swerved around slow moving traffic on street, I was catching one of them.

"Pull up to that Roller," Troy advised, and I got up next to car.

"You think that shit you drive can beat the Rollerz!?" Roller was calling, swerving at us. I held my place in lane, was Troy's cars not mine, so fuck it. He wasn't hitting us anyway.

"Tell you what!" Troy yelled out window. "You ask nicely, an' I'll let you wash my car on weekends, huh?"

I rolled my eyes, but juvenile taunting was seeming to be having effect on driver, and he cast glare at Troy, down shifting and speeding ahead. But Troy's Zircon was being fast, and I kept up with him through thickening traffic, and now Troy was hanging out of window.

"Yeah, if I knew racing you chumps was this easy, I'd have taken your slips months ago!"

Blue flames erupted from Rollerz' exhaust, and his car was racing ahead. Suddenly it exploded into flames, flipping end over end to be running over fire hydrant and slamming into store front on it's side.

"Fuck and shit," I breathed. Samson hadn't been messing around with his bombs.

"Whoa!" Troy cried, but he was grinning. "Lin doesn't fuck around, does she?"

Damned right. I cut wheel, moving around cars and catching up to next Roller.

"Get me next to that fucker," Troy told me, as if I was not already doing just that.

"You think you can beat us in that piece of shit!?" Troy called as I was pulling up along side. "Yeah, I don't wanna hear any bitchin' when you have to give up your parent's car!"

I snorted laughter, snickering. Many Rollerz were being quite young suburban teens, I bet many were racing parent's car sometimes.

"You never had a chance!" Troy jeered. "Be sure to have your slip ready!"

Roller swerved and slammed into side of us. Apparently he was not taking well to Troy's insulting. Grinning, I rammed him back, tires squealing as both cars fought for same position on road.

"My car!" Troy cried. "What the hell you crazy Russian b-…!"

"Rollerz, comrade!" I shouted, interrupting him. "Be focusing on Rollerz!"

I cut wheel, driving into oncoming traffic, narrowly avoiding two Mules before jerking back to right side of road.

"I knew you Rollerz were all talk!" Troy shouted, slapping his door several times.

Roller hit nitrous, car racing ahead while engine screamed. Flames erupted from under hood, and then it, too, exploded, driver screaming as his car was plowing over curb and down sidewalk. It hit light pole before coming to stop, and we were flying past, my focus on the last one.

"You ain't doin' half-bad," Troy told me, chuckling. "Maybe we need to have Lin train all the new drivers."

I grinned, willing this car to be catching last one. He was good, slipping through traffic like fish through stream, but thankfully Troy's Zircon was being little faster and I was catching him eventually.

"Watchin' a movie about street racers doesn't make you a tuner, buddy!" Troy shouted mockingly.

"What'd I say about fuckin' with us!?" kid called out his window.

Troy just grinned wickedly as we flew onto highway, cars honking and flashing lights at us. "You Rollerz are a fuckin' joke!"

Rollerz asshole gave us finger, punching his nitrous and racing ahead. I hung back, waiting for inevitable explosion. Samson was good mechanic, and this one went, too, exploding into glorious fireball and smashing into side rail of freeway.

"Kid shoulda had thicker skin," Troy chuckled. "All right, out, I need to go get Samson to fix my car now that you fucked it up."

"Er, Johnny gave me ride to night club," I told him. "I am not having car there."

"An' that's my problem why?" he asked.

"You are going to Samson, I can be walking from there, da?" I retorted. Why was he being such asshole?

"I don't want you in my car anymore after you wrecked it," Troy grumbled. He was sounding like petulant baby.

I narrowed my eyes. "I am being in driver's seat still, Troy. I am not walking back to Row from here, mudak. And he hit me first."

"Last chance of me askin' nicely," he said dangerously.

I raised an eyebrow at him. He was being really childish. Shrugging, I swerved over two lanes, taking highway exit at last second. Pissed, I ran his car over fire hydrant, backed up and opened sun roof and all windows. Then I was getting out, tossing him keys.

"Be enjoying wet ride home, comrade," I spat, walking out into street and flagging down car. Troy was yelling something, but I was not knowing what nor was I caring. A white Zimos stopped and I pulled my VICE 9, aiming it at window.

"Be getting out or be getting dead, your choice!" I called.

Driver's eyes went wide, and she was getting out, an older blonde woman with glasses in pants suit. "P-please, don't hurt me!"

I rolled my eyes, getting into her car. I was saying if she was getting out she would be okay, or was my English that poor still? I put car into gear and sped off for Row.

#

"What the hell was that, Troy?" Lin asked heatedly as I was closing door to sanctuary behind me. She was kind of person that was never needing to be yelling, but you were knowing when she was angry and wanting to hurt people.

This was being one of those times. Julius watched them both, almost bemused expression on his face. I guess Troy was not stopping by Samson's first.

"You mean makin' sure those cars were blown up?" he shot back. "How long's Ivana been drivin'? And you expected her to win a race with the Rollerz?"

"She could have handled it," Lin retorted, taking drag from cigarette and blowing out stream of smoke, tendrils curling from her nostrils like angry Chinese dragon. "Don'tunderestimate her and don't undermine me again, got it?" she told him, voice low and dangerous.

"Or what?" Troy taunted. "She's provin' herself but she gotta long way to go, Lin. You'd realize that if you weren't tryin' to get in her pants, you fuckin' dyke."

Lin hit him, right cross that was sending him staggering back. "Don't you dare talk to me like that," she growled.

I smiled to myself. No one had been noticing me, yet, with all this drama that was happening. Troy was definitely being on asshole list, now.

Troy's face contorted with hate and he moved forward. "You fuckin' bi-...!"

"Troy! Lin!" Julius barked. "You outta line! Get a hold of yourselves. We havin' enough problems with the other gangs, let's not tear ourselves apart for 'em."

Lin took a deep breath and was nodding. Troy rubbed his cheek.

"You got a helluva cross," he grumbled, managing a faint smirk.

"I made the call, Lin," Julius told her. "Not Troy. Too much can go wrong in a street race and if all the cars blew up at once it'd look bad."

"Ivana could have handled it," Lin repeated. "Look, you wanted me to do this, you either let me do things my way or pull me out and take down the Rollerz without me."

"All right, fine," Julius shot back. "You runnin' the show, then from here on out. Don't get no one killed doin' it, y'feel me?"

Lin looked like she was wanting to be arguing, and Troy was looking smug. I stepped up to them and was touching her on arm, scowling at Troy. I was feeling like part of this was being about me, and not liking it.

"Speakin' of," Troy said. "Look who it is. We need to talk to her. Bye Lin."

Lin raised her chin defiantly.

"Alone," Troy added pointedly, and was glowering at her.

Lin narrowed her eyes, but a gentle look from Julius was softening her expression, and she nodded to our leader, stalking out of church.

I looked to Troy curiously.

He looked over shoulder, making sure door was closing behind her. "It's about Lin. You been seein' her a lot, you think she's turned on us?"

"What?" I asked sharply. "You are being serious?"

"As a fuckin' heart attack," Troy retorted. "I told you, you roll with people long enough, you start thinkin' like 'em."

"You are speaking from experience, then?" I asked, doing my best to be keeping anger from my voice. If they thought I was being angry, they could be thinking I was covering for her.

"Answer the question, playa," Julius ordered.

I shook my head. "No chance, Lin is loyal, I am being sure of it."

"So her shit plans have been incompetence an' not malice, then?" Troy asked, smirking.

"She is doing best she can with what she is being given," I told him calmly, rather proud of myself. "Are you infiltrating street gang, Troy? Can you be telling us how easy it is or is not?"

"This ain't about me," Troy shot back, and he was opening his mouth to be saying something more, but Julius was putting up his hand.

"You can go, now, playa," he said gently. "We got what we needed."

I nodded to him, casting another glare at Troy as I was turning to be heading for doors. Lin was outside, leaning against wall holding cigarette and staring thoughtfully at street.

"What'd they want?" she asked, stubbing out her smoke and tilting towards me, tossing me big wad of cash bundled with rubber band. "For the job." Then she was crossing her arms and watching me carefully.

"Oh," I said warily, pocketing money without counting it. "Er, uh, Troy and Julius were asking me about your loyalties, and I was telling them you were being loyal to Saints. I am having no doubt of you, Lin."

I leaned back against wall next to her, arms barely brushing one another.

"Uh huh," was all she was saying for several moments, eyes unreadable, and then she pivoted towards me, gazing down at me with that heat in her eyes again.

Lin leaned down, corner of her mouth curling faintly at what she was seeing on my face. "I ever tell you how adorable you are?"

I felt my cheeks coloring, hot and pink, but was shaking my head. Lin's hand was being on my hip, then, light and faintly tickling, and we were standing bare centimeters apart, now.

I looked up, and we were being so close our lips brushed; there was jolt that dazzled down to my toes, electric and tingling.

Screaming and wailing guitars erupted from Lin's back pocket, and she groaned, starting to be standing up straight. "After all that shit with Julius and Troy I really need to take this, sweetie."

Fuck all that. They could be leaving voicemail.

I stood up on my toes, fingertips sliding lightly up her sides to be cradling back of her head, pulling her to me as I was closing my eyes. Our lips were pressing together, then, and small sound was escaping me. Lin made low noise in her throat, and was suddenly pressing me to wall, kissing me back with rising passion. I was knowing many people were probably watching, but I was not caring. This, this is what was wanting from her and finally getting.

Lin's tongue teased along my lips, subtly urgent, and I let her in, taking in shuddering breath through my nose. There were sudden cries and cheers, and I tried to be pushing her away, but Lin wouldn't let me, instead deepening kiss. My cheeks burned, I was not being much for public displays of anything, let alone this, but it was enjoyable.

"Get a room!" some woman shouted, sounding annoyed. Her annoyance was only met with chuckles or boos.

Finally, Lin broke free, smirking at me, her chest rising and falling. We stared into each other's eyes for several moments, and I know I was grinning like fool.

"Show's over, assholes," she called, taking my hand and leading me through throng of male Saints, and few females, to her Voxel.

As I sat in passenger seat, I was hating how badly I was blushing, but was being very proud of myself. I grinned as Lin sat down, and she was looking over at me as she was starting car.

"Someone looks proud of herself," she said sardonically, looking over shoulder and backing out onto street.

I nodded, still grinning. Lin put Voxel into first, launching down street to roaring of engine. She was glancing at me, smirking.

"Lunch is on me today, sweetie. I think you've earned it."