Looking Glass
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Romance › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
11
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2,318
Reviews:
10
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Currently Reading:
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Category:
Romance › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
11
Views:
2,318
Reviews:
10
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
Chapter Ten
A/N: Sorry it\'s been so ridiculously long since I\'ve updated. I\'ve struggled an awful lot with this chapter. My muse seemed to think the story should fade away. I told him to shove it. In any case, I\'m still not sure I like this chapter, so if you have any suggestions for making it better or want to just tell me to scrap it, let me know. Maybe my muse will be more cooperative if he knew his work was appreciated with reviews... :P
BTW: any pop culture items I may mention, like oh, say television shows? Not mine, obviously. But you know. Just covering my bases.
Dane
Chapter Ten
1999
“Fuck you!”
“Already did, hon,” he leered, ducking to avoid another projectile aimed at his head.
“You bastard! You can’t just go stealing my shit! There’re laws against that.”
“So call the police,” he taunted, mostly to keep her from flinging the cordless telephone that was currently aimed at a place he felt particularly protective of.
Deirdre stopped mid-throw, looking at the phone in her hand. When her eyes rose again to his, he might have paled. Not that he would admit it, but the girl could be a bit scary. She threw like a star pitcher with a vengeance. He still had a lump where she’d clipped him last week with a plate. To add insult to injury, her taco had still been on it, and had ended up in his hair, on his shirt, and all over his entertainment center.
Her grin now was lazy and confident. “Maybe I will just. Wouldn’t they like to hear about how some disgusting lech dug through my underwear drawer while I was in the shower, and that he stole something personal? And that he’s still here?”
“You’re bluffing.”
She started dialing numbers and held the phone up to her ear. “Mmm. Nope.”
“Damnit, Deirdre! You can’t just go calling the cops every time I piss you off!”
She shot him a glare, apparently on hold. “You stole from me.”
He tried to be reasonable. “Well, to be fair, it was actually mine first. I got here first; I got dibs. It’s that simple. And I’m not too sure the police would appreciate it if you lied to them. I haven’t been in your room for over a week. You haven’t been in your room for over a week, except to get clothes or whatever. I think it’s against the law to lie to an officer too, babe.”
But she wasn’t listening. Hi, yeah. I need someone over here fast. Twenty-one fifteen Washburn Avenue. That’s right, with a W. I’d—“
Noah snatched the phone from her grasp and frantically brought it to his own ear.
“Hello, officer? There’s no problem here, actually, just my, ah, friend trying to pull a prank. Sorry ‘bout that. Wait. What did you say? Oh. Oh. Well then. Whoops.”
Red-faced, he handed the phone back to Deirdre.
She continued, “Leon? Hey babe. Yeah, extra large with extra cheese and all that other garbage on it too. Of course I want the cheesy bread. Okay, thanks bunches. See you in a few.” She tapped the “talk” button, smug.
“You bitch. You let me believe...”
She shrugged and grinned. “Yep, that’s me. Evil, delusional bitch girl. Better let me have my way, or I’ll bite you.”
He smirked. “Really?”
She slugged him, of course. “You slut. Come on!” she pouted, glancing at the clock. “I’m going to miss the opening bit.”
Noah scoffed, “Like that would be a huge sacrifice.”
She sighed dramatically, holding her hands to her heart and fluttering her eyelashes. “But I’m in love, Noah. I can’t be separated too long, or I will surely perish!”
He just looked at her, deciding on the spot that she would make a fantastic heroine in a classic melodrama. Preferably one where she would be tied to railroad tracks. Or pushed over a cliff. Or maybe dropped into an elevator shaft, where no one would find her body for days and days. Then he heaved a sigh worthy of a melodramatic hero sacrificing his life for the lady, and handed her the remote.
She smiled beatifically and kissed him chastely on the cheek. “I’ll program the VCR next week,” she promised. When he grumbled, she explained that of course she couldn’t do it now—her show was starting. And missing the opening scenes of \"Buffy the Vampire Slayer\" was too horrific to even think about.
Noah wondered if it could really be worse than missing his baseball game. The baseball game he’s been watching for nearly an hour when Deirdre traipsed in and demanded the television.
“It’s just a show,” he mumbled. “Don’t see why you had to beat me up about it.” At least she hadn’t broken anything this time.
“You like it,” she snorted. “It gets you warm for my form. Freak.” She patted the couch beside her, and when he sat, wrapped her arms around him and gave him a real kiss. “I’ll make it up to you—“ she breathed in his ear. Noah decided he didn’t mind Buffy so much after all. And she was right. Something about seeing her with her temper high, her mouth scrunched tight and her eyes squinted with a death glare just made him want to kiss that mouth relaxed and not stop until her eyes rolled back in her head. It was her passion, he decided, deepening the kiss and leaning her back on the couch cushions. It was right there at the surface, no matter what she was doing. And he found it so damn hot... He slid his hand slowly up her ribs, her shirt carelessly bunched around his wrist. He just reached something really interesting when she finished her sentence.
“—Later.” The program was back from commercial. Noah changed his mind. He fucking hated Buffy.
“Tease,” he grumbled, and she just kissed him once more, softly, before turning her attention to a certain blond demon-killer. Knowing she would be totally absorbed for the next hour, Noah climbed uncomfortably to the roof in an attempt to cool off, grabbing a ledger he had brought with him from work. If balancing the numbers couldn’t help, he might just jump off the edge and save her the trouble. She was killing him.
Some time later, Deirdre backed to the door to answer the bell. It was just about time for a commercial, and she knew Leon wouldn’t mind waiting for a minute before she paid him. She tipped him well and smiled at him, and knew that he would throw himself off a cliff for her if she asked him to. Sweet boy. She thought he and the new neighbor girl down the hall would make a cute couple. She would meddle, even though he would be mad at her for it, and try to set them up. Eyes still on the apocalyptic battle waging on the screen across the room, she opened the door.
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll be right with you. Just gotta—“ she started, heading to the side table where her purse lay.
She looked at him in alarm when she felt him grab her arm, a little too tightly. She couldn’t keep her eyes from widening in fear. Not Leon. Joey. Joey Marks, here in the apartment. Where had Noah gone? she thought desperately. Please, God, don’t let him see him. But she didn’t know which man she meant. She took a calming, hopefully invisible breath, and struggled for icy hostility.
“Joey. What are you doing here? How did you know—“ She cut herself short and cursed mentally. Now he would know she was shaken by him, and she had no doubt he would find a way to use that against her.
You should really think about wearing a hat, baby girl. It’s so shiny and pretty and easy to see. And you do like to walk, don’t you? Well, I guess you did get from New York to New Orleans on foot. Or did you find some trucker willing to gift you a lift if you gave him...something else,” he wondered aloud.
“You’re disgusting,” she spat. His fingers dug into her arms.
“I would watch what you say to me, Dee girl. I’m in a good mood now, but I might not be willing to be so nice if you’re can’t show a little kindness to your old dad.” He began tugging her toward one of the doors off the living room—Noah’s study.
“No, no. Please,” she begged, struggling to wrench herself free. His hands were too strong, though, and high enough on her arms that she couldn’t gain any momentum to break free. His wrists brushed her breasts, and she knew he did it on purpose. She thought she might be sick.
“Not here,” she tried again. “You wanna go somewhere, Joey, I’ll come with you. But not here.”
Joey stopped short and eyed her, the blue of them beautiful in their cruelty. “Don’t want the boyfriend to know? All right, then, sweet. We’ll go to my place.” Still holding one wrist too hard, he half-dragged her from the apartment.
BTW: any pop culture items I may mention, like oh, say television shows? Not mine, obviously. But you know. Just covering my bases.
Dane
Chapter Ten
1999
“Fuck you!”
“Already did, hon,” he leered, ducking to avoid another projectile aimed at his head.
“You bastard! You can’t just go stealing my shit! There’re laws against that.”
“So call the police,” he taunted, mostly to keep her from flinging the cordless telephone that was currently aimed at a place he felt particularly protective of.
Deirdre stopped mid-throw, looking at the phone in her hand. When her eyes rose again to his, he might have paled. Not that he would admit it, but the girl could be a bit scary. She threw like a star pitcher with a vengeance. He still had a lump where she’d clipped him last week with a plate. To add insult to injury, her taco had still been on it, and had ended up in his hair, on his shirt, and all over his entertainment center.
Her grin now was lazy and confident. “Maybe I will just. Wouldn’t they like to hear about how some disgusting lech dug through my underwear drawer while I was in the shower, and that he stole something personal? And that he’s still here?”
“You’re bluffing.”
She started dialing numbers and held the phone up to her ear. “Mmm. Nope.”
“Damnit, Deirdre! You can’t just go calling the cops every time I piss you off!”
She shot him a glare, apparently on hold. “You stole from me.”
He tried to be reasonable. “Well, to be fair, it was actually mine first. I got here first; I got dibs. It’s that simple. And I’m not too sure the police would appreciate it if you lied to them. I haven’t been in your room for over a week. You haven’t been in your room for over a week, except to get clothes or whatever. I think it’s against the law to lie to an officer too, babe.”
But she wasn’t listening. Hi, yeah. I need someone over here fast. Twenty-one fifteen Washburn Avenue. That’s right, with a W. I’d—“
Noah snatched the phone from her grasp and frantically brought it to his own ear.
“Hello, officer? There’s no problem here, actually, just my, ah, friend trying to pull a prank. Sorry ‘bout that. Wait. What did you say? Oh. Oh. Well then. Whoops.”
Red-faced, he handed the phone back to Deirdre.
She continued, “Leon? Hey babe. Yeah, extra large with extra cheese and all that other garbage on it too. Of course I want the cheesy bread. Okay, thanks bunches. See you in a few.” She tapped the “talk” button, smug.
“You bitch. You let me believe...”
She shrugged and grinned. “Yep, that’s me. Evil, delusional bitch girl. Better let me have my way, or I’ll bite you.”
He smirked. “Really?”
She slugged him, of course. “You slut. Come on!” she pouted, glancing at the clock. “I’m going to miss the opening bit.”
Noah scoffed, “Like that would be a huge sacrifice.”
She sighed dramatically, holding her hands to her heart and fluttering her eyelashes. “But I’m in love, Noah. I can’t be separated too long, or I will surely perish!”
He just looked at her, deciding on the spot that she would make a fantastic heroine in a classic melodrama. Preferably one where she would be tied to railroad tracks. Or pushed over a cliff. Or maybe dropped into an elevator shaft, where no one would find her body for days and days. Then he heaved a sigh worthy of a melodramatic hero sacrificing his life for the lady, and handed her the remote.
She smiled beatifically and kissed him chastely on the cheek. “I’ll program the VCR next week,” she promised. When he grumbled, she explained that of course she couldn’t do it now—her show was starting. And missing the opening scenes of \"Buffy the Vampire Slayer\" was too horrific to even think about.
Noah wondered if it could really be worse than missing his baseball game. The baseball game he’s been watching for nearly an hour when Deirdre traipsed in and demanded the television.
“It’s just a show,” he mumbled. “Don’t see why you had to beat me up about it.” At least she hadn’t broken anything this time.
“You like it,” she snorted. “It gets you warm for my form. Freak.” She patted the couch beside her, and when he sat, wrapped her arms around him and gave him a real kiss. “I’ll make it up to you—“ she breathed in his ear. Noah decided he didn’t mind Buffy so much after all. And she was right. Something about seeing her with her temper high, her mouth scrunched tight and her eyes squinted with a death glare just made him want to kiss that mouth relaxed and not stop until her eyes rolled back in her head. It was her passion, he decided, deepening the kiss and leaning her back on the couch cushions. It was right there at the surface, no matter what she was doing. And he found it so damn hot... He slid his hand slowly up her ribs, her shirt carelessly bunched around his wrist. He just reached something really interesting when she finished her sentence.
“—Later.” The program was back from commercial. Noah changed his mind. He fucking hated Buffy.
“Tease,” he grumbled, and she just kissed him once more, softly, before turning her attention to a certain blond demon-killer. Knowing she would be totally absorbed for the next hour, Noah climbed uncomfortably to the roof in an attempt to cool off, grabbing a ledger he had brought with him from work. If balancing the numbers couldn’t help, he might just jump off the edge and save her the trouble. She was killing him.
Some time later, Deirdre backed to the door to answer the bell. It was just about time for a commercial, and she knew Leon wouldn’t mind waiting for a minute before she paid him. She tipped him well and smiled at him, and knew that he would throw himself off a cliff for her if she asked him to. Sweet boy. She thought he and the new neighbor girl down the hall would make a cute couple. She would meddle, even though he would be mad at her for it, and try to set them up. Eyes still on the apocalyptic battle waging on the screen across the room, she opened the door.
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll be right with you. Just gotta—“ she started, heading to the side table where her purse lay.
She looked at him in alarm when she felt him grab her arm, a little too tightly. She couldn’t keep her eyes from widening in fear. Not Leon. Joey. Joey Marks, here in the apartment. Where had Noah gone? she thought desperately. Please, God, don’t let him see him. But she didn’t know which man she meant. She took a calming, hopefully invisible breath, and struggled for icy hostility.
“Joey. What are you doing here? How did you know—“ She cut herself short and cursed mentally. Now he would know she was shaken by him, and she had no doubt he would find a way to use that against her.
You should really think about wearing a hat, baby girl. It’s so shiny and pretty and easy to see. And you do like to walk, don’t you? Well, I guess you did get from New York to New Orleans on foot. Or did you find some trucker willing to gift you a lift if you gave him...something else,” he wondered aloud.
“You’re disgusting,” she spat. His fingers dug into her arms.
“I would watch what you say to me, Dee girl. I’m in a good mood now, but I might not be willing to be so nice if you’re can’t show a little kindness to your old dad.” He began tugging her toward one of the doors off the living room—Noah’s study.
“No, no. Please,” she begged, struggling to wrench herself free. His hands were too strong, though, and high enough on her arms that she couldn’t gain any momentum to break free. His wrists brushed her breasts, and she knew he did it on purpose. She thought she might be sick.
“Not here,” she tried again. “You wanna go somewhere, Joey, I’ll come with you. But not here.”
Joey stopped short and eyed her, the blue of them beautiful in their cruelty. “Don’t want the boyfriend to know? All right, then, sweet. We’ll go to my place.” Still holding one wrist too hard, he half-dragged her from the apartment.