He watched as she crossed the room. Being a few inches shorter than he was and having a buxom body, she had curves in every place he imagined his hands squeezing. It had been just a few weeks since they were first introduced, but he could tell there was something special about her. The situations that she involved herself with, she definitely proved to him that she could pull her weight in gold. Plus, after having Lester pull up more of her history, Trevor knew she was a gem.

Daughter of the legendary Harwood Butcher and a former prominent drug lord of Vice City a couple of decades ago, her background had more than proven itself. He remembered hearing of the things that Tommy Vercetti had done in the news. The massive arms and drug bust in the early nineties had been plastered all over the media. It had been, and quite frankly still was, the biggest bust in the history of criminals anywhere. Trevor could only imagine what kind of life Karen had lived after her father had been indicted, convicted, and subsequently incarcerated when she was just a child.

Of course, that had been well over twenty years ago, and thanks to Lester, he knew that although Karen had been born in Vice City, she was raised by her mother near Liberty City. As far as Lester could tell him, it had been just Karen and her mother for years until her mother finally remarried. Trevor knew of Karen's life in more depth than she had personally revealed, but there were some things, such as the teenage brother still living in Liberty City, that he didn't know much about.

What he did know was that she wasn't afraid to get her hands dirty, and much like Lester, she was more of the clean-up crew. She could single-handedly be the getaway driver and the cover-up artist that any situation they dove into required. The smoothness and fluidity in her operations wasn't something that was easily taught. She certainly had the Vercetti blood running through her veins. And because of that and all her accolades, his blood ran hot in his body for her.

Yet, he felt like a fool for sitting back, secretly watching her as though she were in a glass container. The slight jingle of her bracelets and the clicking of her heels made his ears perk up. Even her fragrance had wafted towards him, breaking all of his senses. It didn't help that she was extraordinarily nice to him. More nice than anyone had ever been to him. He wasn't quite used to a female regarding him in such a pleasant way. It just wasn't natural. Most were downright disgusted by him, and after living with such expected behavior, it was... well, it was weird that she randomly smiled at him. Or didn't mind their hands touching. Or their shoulders bumping into one another. She showed not one ounce of disdain for him.

"Franklin," her gentle voice sang out.

Trevor watched as Franklin came up beside her as they looked over some papers. It wasn't lost to him that she and Franklin were close to each other. Too close. Trevor sighed and sat back in the chair he was perched upon. Franklin had more of a chance than he ever did with Karen. There was no way the twenty-eight year old would ever look his way. A younger, more capable man was better suited to handle all that Karen was.

But for right now, as he sat at a desk pretending to fiddle around on the internet, he could dream. He could fantasize that it was her that he would take back to his place, and that it was her that he would make love to for hours before falling asleep for the night. That it was her he woke up to everyday. If it were Karen, he might even start waking up in the morning like a normal person.

He straightened his chair to look at the computer screen before him, breaking his stare on Karen. He stopped himself from grunting out loud at the thought. Him normal? It would never be. He was just not a normal guy. Who was he kidding... It would take something short of a miracle to get him into any ounce of normalcy. As much as Lester had been able to find, Karen wasn't a magician. She wasn't able to just wave a wand and fix all of his issues. Hell, even the concept of being with the same girl every couple of days was foreign to him. How he could ever think that Karen would look his way...

"Trev?" Karen's voice said behind him as he heard the heels of her boots approach him. "You want to go over to the club after this? Maybe we can get some inventory done, as well as some payroll managing."

He looked up at her with a blank expression on his face. Of course he wanted to go somewhere with her! But he had to beat the excitement down with a stick, lest she become utterly frightened at the fact that he had been solidly obsessing over her for weeks now.

"Uh, sure," he said in such an uncertain tone, he wanted to punch himself in the eyeball when her eyebrow twerked up and her head tilted slightly to the side. "Sounds good. I'll meet you there?"

"Actually," she started saying as she made her way back over to the filing cabinet. "I'm leaving my car with Franklin's garage. It's been acting up lately. Do you think we could take your truck?"

Trevor watched as she shut the filing cabinet with a bump of her hip.

"Uhh, yeah, no. We can take the truck. That's fine with me."

"Kar, leave me the keys before you go," Franklin then called out from the desk he sat at. "I'm going to have someone follow me to the garage near your spot so it's easier for you to pick it up."

"Yeah, sure, Frankie."

Frankie. Trevor let the nickname float around in his mind. It seemed as though no one else ever called him the name that she did, although he knew they did. Frankie. It bothered him that Karen was cozy with Franklin. Not that Franklin was a bad guy – he was a decent guy with a good head on his shoulders. But, damn it, Trevor wanted the cute nicknames from her. But could he really see himself being alright with being called Trevie?

"Alright, I'm all set to go," Karen said as she grabbed up her leather bag, slinging the strap over her shoulder.

Yes. Yes he could.

"""""

Karen's popularity didn't stop with the guys. Most, if not all, of the girls at Trevor's strip club loved her, including the bartender, which happened to be Karen's first stop. Trevor waited patiently behind her, turning down a drink offer made by the bartender, Triniti.

"I want a count," Karen said as she rattled off a list of alcohols. "A proper count. If there's a case that's not full up, tell everyone they can take some home with them. But not before things are done correctly. Understood?"

Triniti nodded her head, taking the list and carefully placed it onto a clipboard that sat behind the bar. "Sure thing, boss. Would you like drinks sent back?"

Karen turned her head to look at Trevor. His expressionless face didn't give her much to work with, but she smiled, then looked back to Triniti. "Send back a few beers. It's just me and Trev tonight." Her hand tapped the bar countertop before she thanked Triniti and took Trevor's hand into hers.

They passed a few of the dancers on their way back, being greeted cheerfully as they made their way into the office. Once inside the messy room, Karen sighed, and dropped her bag onto the couch. Trevor studied her before nervously rubbing the back of his neck.

"Something wrong?" he asked, not completely sure if he wanted to know the answer.

Blowing out a deep breath, she looked around the grimy office space. "It's so dark and dingy." She brushed her fingers over some randomly strewn papers over the desktop. "What would you say to a remodel? I mean, the rest of the club looks fine, but then you get back here, and it's just... dull."

If it were anyone else telling him these things, Trevor may have very well tossed them out, headfirst, into the cold of the night. But the person standing in front of him now, showing such a concern for his business... It touched his heart.

"I guess we could do something," he said, looking around himself. The walls were an off-white sort of color. And the carpeting could do with a little vacuuming. "Clean up a bit."

"A bit," Karen repeated with a laugh. With another sigh, she sat down on the couch. Her eyes fell onto Trevor, and she noticed he watched her closely. She relaxed some, resting her elbow on the back of the couch with her head in her palm. She reached over her lap and patted the couch cushion next to her. "Sit."

His eyes stayed fixed on her, his body still for a few long moments before his feet finally shuffled over to the couch. He had been so careful never to give away any clue that he was smitten with her. It was questionable to him that she was being extraordinarily soft with him right now. But, with a nervous, shallow breath, he sat down next to her.

"So," he said slowly. "What did you have in mind?" He tapped his fingers quickly on his jean-clad knees. "For the office?"

Thankfully, she had looked away from him to examine the room. He took the opportunity to take in more of her features. Her nose was on the shorter side, and a little round. Just the kind of cute, little noses that their children would have. And her eyes were almond-shaped, the makeup she wore accentuated how the outer corners drew up. Her lips, although in a pout now, were full and plump, and sometimes when she bit on them, Trevor imagined her before him on her knees.

"Well," she began thoughtfully. "This is your club. I'd like to make it more presentable, but I wouldn't want to step on your toes to do so."

He felt his face flush as she looked back to him. "Oh, no. No, you wouldn't be. Please. Do whatever you want." Do whatever you want to my body, too. "You obviously know what you're doing. The guys trust you with anything."

"Eh," she said with a scrunch of her nose. "They don't have a choice sometimes."

A knock at the door made them both look at the waitress who was coming through with a tray of drinks. There were two beers with the tops already popped off, and a glass of something that looked like a fancy chocolate milkshake.

"Trin said you guys only wanted beers," the waitress, Shannon, gently said, "but when she told me you were in, Kar, I just had to make you a Mudslide." Lowering the tray in front of them, she handed off one beer to Trevor and the glass to Karen. "Enjoy."

"Thank you, Shan," Karen said as she took a sip of the Mudslide. She watched as Shannon sat the remaining beer onto the desk and made her way out of the room. Sitting back into the couch, she groaned. "Getting rid of this ridiculous couch for one. We should move the cabinets, get better desks, and get rid of that awful wallpaper on this wall." She looked across where they sat. "Clean up the bookshelf, too. Get rid of all this clutter."

Trevor took a generous swig of his beer. He knew his cleaning skill was more than lacking, and he was grateful for Karen's ability to come through and sweep up messes. She had already done so with several of the stores he ran, and he couldn't wait until she cleaned up the club.

Her drink was halfway gone by the time she stood from the couch, sitting the glass next to the untouched beer.

"Let's go out to eat," she suddenly said.

He looked up from his beer and nodded his head. "Sure."

Waiting for him to stand, she took the bottle from his hand, placing it down next to the other drinks, then slipped her hand into his pocket. His will was being put to the test right now, Karen so close to him, her hands touching him, one in his jean pocket and the other practically rubbing the side of his stomach. He found himself wishing he had put on a nicer shirt. Maybe she would actually find him attractive. He resisted pulling her into his arms as Karen found what she was looking for.

Holding up the keys to his truck, she smiled. "I'm driving."

"""""

For the second time this night, Karen found her hand stuck in Trevor's pocket. They had just arrived at his trailer after a couple of hours of food and laughs at a comedy club in the city. Trevor offered to take her home, which wasn't far from his trailer, but she insisted she would stay at his house for the night. When she pulled his set of keys out of his pocket, she quickly found the one for the front door, and let them inside.

"Oh, Trev," she said with as gasp. She had never been inside of his home before. It was small, not a whole lot of space, and she could see that he clearly didn't care what it looked like. But for what it was worth, it could be a cozy little place.

"Yeah," he huffed out, rubbing the back of his head. "It's quite messy."

"Sweetheart, this is ridiculous. It's easy to keep something clean."

He looked around at the empty pizza boxes and drained beer bottles. "I never really thought about it. I'm never really home."

"Well, we're going to clean this mess up right now. I'm not going to bed with all of this laying around," she said as she began stacking numerous pizza boxes together. "You have any trash bags?"

Karen's question was heard loud and clear, but Trevor's eyes zoomed in her chest and the movement was hypnotizing. He zoned out, leaning on the counter for support, everything she was saying slipping right past his attention.

"Trev," she said again, looking at him with a firm expression. "Trevor!"

"Yeah? What?"

"What, he asks," she scoffed out. "Get some trash bags. I'm going to sweep all this junk right into the bags, and you're going to take them out. You're lucky that trash pick up is tomorrow." She stood up straight from gathering debris, hand on her hip, head tilted with attitude. "Well, come on. If you planned to go to bed at a decent hour, this has to be started pronto. So get to it, mister."

Trevor didn't argue. He didn't complain. Just followed her lead. Within an hour, the difference was already a drastic image. And just after two hours, the table and countertops had been wiped completely clean, the floors had been swept, and Karen was finishing up the quickest mop job he had ever seen. What was even more amazing was that it actually looked like a decent place now.

"We can wipe down the cabinets tomorrow," she told him as she took the grimy bucket full of lukewarm, mucky mop water to the bathroom. "And definitely going to scrub down this bathroom."

He heard the water being poured, and the toilet was flushed a moment later. She came back out to place the bucket underneath the kitchen sink.

"You have enough money to take care of your home, Trevor," she chided him. She shot him a look of gumption, her eyebrows raised as though she expected an answer from him. "Do it, huh?"

"What if I just get a whole new house?" he asked her as she continued straightening up the area.

She let out a small laugh. "That doesn't mean that you'll take care of it like you should. Keep something clean from the start, and it will stay clean."

He stood there, scratching the top of his head. "That's why I need someone to take care of things. Someone to keep things organized and neat."

"Oh," she said as she stood against the kitchen counter. "So you want someone to be your secretary and your maid?" She shook her head as she neatly arranged some items. "I'll never understand why some people want multiple hands in their pot."

He couldn't take it anymore. She was casually cleaning up his kitchen as if she lived there. As if they lived there together. As if she were his woman, his wife. If she didn't feel like she belonged in his home, she sure as hell looked it. Like she had lived with him for years. And he couldn't stand it anymore.

Grabbing her arm to still her from the task at hand, he pulled her back, pressing her against the refrigerator – the very one she'd no doubt have a field day with later on. Before she could protest, his mouth was on hers, Trevor just barely holding back the instinct to force his tongue onto hers. She resisted for just a second, likely out of shock, but he soon felt her body melt against him. He wanted to soak in every bit of her. Drinking her very essence was extremely appealing to him, but he'd wait to be able to do that. For now, he'd settle on stealing a kiss from her.

When he pulled away from her, his hands immediately going up to brush over the sides of her face, he noticed the hazy expression on her face. Had she enjoyed that as much as he had? She wasn't screaming at him or fighting him. Trevor had hope.

"Let's go to bed," she simply said, her voice achingly low. She moved herself from the heat of his body and disappeared into the small, now much cleaner, bedroom on the other side of the trailer to undress for bed.

Trevor was at a loss for words, his lips still tingling. His eyes followed her and watched as he saw glimpses of her in that tiny bedroom. First her shirt went, over her head. Then his eyes saw the black slacks she wore slip off each leg, one at a time. He knew merely seeing her in just a bra and panties would set him off. Not being able to control himself around her was exactly what he was worried about.

Instead, when he walked into the bedroom, his eyes fell on the cream colored camisole covering her chest. She turned her back to him, her hand snaking up her back to snap loose the bra she wore underneath the garment.

"Get ready for bed."

He watched her pull the straps to the bra away from her shoulders, and in a quick moment, she had pulled the entire piece out from underneath the camisole. His glaze then fell to her perfect, roundly-shaped bottom. He couldn't even count how many times in the past few weeks he had stared at it, marveling over the exquisite form.

"Yeah," he breathed out, almost in a robotic mode as he kicked off his boots, and started taking off his clothes. He could have fainted as Karen climbed over his bed, pulling down the blanket that was in need of a wash. She sat that perfect bottom on the edge of the pillow, swinging her legs under the blanket. His mouth hung open as he continued to look at her. Nearly naked. In his bed.

"Come on," she said, patting the blanket. "Bed time actually means sleeping."

He fell into bed next to her, warmth coming over him as she pulled the covers over him. And when she snuggled in close to him, his breathing halted for a quick second. He didn't say anything, relishing in this moment, as he laid still, arm behind his head as the wonderful woman beside him rested her arm over his stomach and closed her eyes to sleep.