“I hate Indian food, but lucky for you, I’m too hungry to be picky,” Rune’s lopsided smirk said she was jabbing as good as she got.
She plopped herself on his couch, legs tucked up under herself and watched him tiddle taddle around his apartment. The tidiness was pretty surprising. He seemed so free and wild underground, but maybe the light of day, or at least the city lights at night, boxed him in a little. Maybe that’s why he roamed the undercity like an escape artist. Otherwise, it seemed like he had money. His place was nice, the bathroom was spotless, and even his sweats were nice. She couldn’t quite figure it out.
She hung out while they waited. They continued to tease, and Rune was growing more comfortable by the minute. She was just being dumb, she told herself, and once a big helping of food was nestled warm in her belly, she was back on the couch sipping at a take-away cup of a strawberry milkshake and thinking about when he was going to kick her out.
“Thanks again for all the grub. Even the slop was good,” she slurped at the straw, but the milkshake had gone hard and it was getting harder and harder to suck up the good stuff.
Looking around again, her curiosity was getting the better of her. "So are you like part of the mafia or something? Ain't nobody this rich and got all day to run around the undercity killing giant bats just for fun."
He feigned a look of shocked hurt at her comment. "You don't like Indian food?" He shook his head sadly. "Alright, you need to get out." And then went to the door and opened it dramatically. And the Lady was standing there behind the deliver guy with the bags of food and stuff, a big grin on her face. He laughed and took the food and the kahlua, tipped the guy and shut the door. "Lucky for you..." he said with a grin.
The food came out in paper wrappers which he put on the table. Paper plates too. He tried to keep his place clean just because messes interfered with his enjoyment of life. He couldn't relax if there was a mess. But dishes weren't something he did. Not even a little bit. He wasn't one to ever settle down, of course. And his cupboards and drawers screamed it to the skies. No dishes, bowls, pots or pans. Instead, he had a drawer filled with menus. Sure, you could look it up in your wallet, but he liked to be able to grab a couple and order off of each. Menus. And glasses! Yeah. His one concession. How else would you drink your vodka?
It wasn't like people stayed over much past a single night, anyway. And he liked it that way.
They fell to eating and he had to admit that the American food wasn't as bad as he expected. The corndogs in particular surprised him. Who would'a thought? At least the mustard was real. He opened the kahlua and left it on the table along with the brandy and vodka for her to add as she wanted. He tried brandy with his vanilla shake and it wasn't bad at all. I mean we're talking brandy- awesome- and vanilla ice-cream- awesome. Together? Also awesome.
All through the meal, they joked and chatted about nothing. Boy, let me tell you she must'a not eaten in a while. For little thing, she put away a powerful lot of food. He looked at her, as if searching around her. "What'd you do with all that? Hide it in the coach cushions or something?"
Once done, she looked around and asked him about his work. He smirked. This came up occasionally. He shrugged. "Sort of. All of the families- the Russians, the Japanese, the Chinese. There were some Italians here for a while but they didn't last." No they did not. Before his time, but he knew people. Lots of small reasons that added up to them going up in smoke. "Some police organizations. A few politicians. Men and women in all sorts of businesses." He could have kept going, but she got the idea. "People like to know what's going on, you know? Who to talk to about getting stuff done. Who's palms to grease, what someone is up to, etc. Or to carry messages and such. I keep my eyes and ears open and talk to everyone." He waggled an eyebrow "And everyone talks to me. Not just cuz I'm gorgeous, either. Neutral ground. I'm like a walking Switzerland- at lease as it was back before Ass-endancy decided he wanted to be king of the world."
His tone was flippant but he didn't worry about being overheard. Who was she gonna tell anyway? It wasn't like that show a while back at Kallisti's. His shake was mostly melted now. But he was gonna remember the brandy. He got a couple glasses and ice, speaking as he dropped in the cubes and poured the chilled vodka. A small twist of lemon in each and then he pushed one towards her and then leaned back with his own. "Between all that, I do alright. For now, anyway. Nothing lasts forever. Life is basically a rental. So I enjoy it while it lasts."
He looked at her, taking a long pull on his drink, letting it warm him. She and Tenzin didn't look the same. She was funny and quick-witted with the jokes and teases. Playful. Tenzin was more reserved and sharp. But both of them in the tunnels looking for monsters or whatever. "What about you? You part of a secret club that hits the tunnels to kill shit? I met another chick who did that too. Was all super serious about it, though. All business. Not like you." He smiled innocently. "And I didn't get lost following her nearly as much as I did following you." He winked at her and took another drink.
She was genuinely interested in Mik’s world and peered with wide enough eyes over the straw of her cup as she listened. It had gone hard, but her cheeks sucked as hard she could until there was nothing but ice lumps left behind. By then, the milkshake slurps left goosebumps on her skin and Rune huddled in her borrowed clothes to warm herself up. She even tucked her legs up under her on the couch - plus it was more comfy.
Mik was like someone in a movie. He literally worked with (not for, she noted) the mafia. Shit, what a cool life that must be. And here Rune was thinking there was nothing better than shooting bad things and hopping from state to state in Uncle Seth’s old car.
She shook her head at his question. “Nah. I’m just looking for my uncle,” and she shrugged, trying to forget how hard that was going to be. She didn’t want to think about the Atharim. Without him it wasn’t fun anyway, and she was never that good at it to start with. She was in limbo. Without Uncle Seth - alive or dead - she’d never go back to the States. But if she stayed, she was a crap hunter in Moscow who didn’t know her way around and had almost no allies. Let alone friends.
She looked up, thoughtfully coming up with an idea. “You don’t need any help, do you? I mean, i’m not a ‘gorgeous’ Switzerland, but maybe I’m a ‘plain jane’ Canada? People generally ignore me and i’m good at watching people.”
Her grin was quirky as she shook the empty the boozy milkshake cup. “Got any more?”
Mik grinned as she tried to drink the rest of her shake, cheeks hollowing out. His right eyebrow raised slightly in contemplation. Promising. She brushed off his question about her monster hunting. No biggie. He only told the truth when he felt like it. And everyone had secrets. Though come to think of it...damn, but he was pretty open about a lot of shit. Didn't really try to hide anything about himself. It wasn't something he really gave much thought to. Truth was, he really didn't care what people thought. Like everything else in life, approval came and went. He had better things to do then pretend.
But if she had secrets, whatever. He'd figure it out eventually. Not by prying. Just listening and talking usually let people's guard down. Few caught on what he was doing. Ok, so maybe that was kinda secretive. But who cared. Information was his business. Couldn't tell everyone he was listening to them, observing, figuring out what might be useful. In any case, finding her uncle was the only thing she seemed to care about. But she looked like maybe she was at the end of her rope. In the tunnels- when she was wearing them- her clothes looked ok, if dirty and thin. But when he had thrown them into his washer/dryer, he could see they were threadbare in many places where there weren't actual holes. Her shoes looked like they were on their last legs too.
The mess of wrappers and food paper was all that remained of a pretty big meal for such a small girl. In all honesty, she wasn't that much different from the few street kids he worked with. Probably was a street person. What went up sometimes went down, after all. Being who he was, he couldn't always go to a specific place without being noticed. And he was also only one guy. Street kids were invisible, for the most part. Most had wallets and regular haunts- specific parks or buildings or places to sleep or get food- so it was easy to touch base with them. And he was good to those that did stuff for him.
The way she paid attention said that she was interested in what he did. Maybe just as a way to get off the street. Probably. But the way she fought- to say nothing of being unfazed by that thing in the tunnels- said she wasn't ordinary. I mean, he had the Lady's luck on him, her power at his disposal. So of course he hadn't been too worried. He couldn't help the slight smile as he seized the power again while his eyes went to his lighter on the kitchen counter. Yeah, things had changed.
And now he could smell her. Not stink or nothing. His shampoo and body wash. Weird that he couldn't smell it on himself. The sweats were baggy on her. Not that they swallowed her up or anything- but she definitely seemed smaller sitting there. The memory of her fist on his ass cheek- not like that, he laughed to himself- reminded him that she was strong and packed a punch. And there was her smelling thing. The violence meter. Yeah, she was definitely different.
So...what to do...cuz she then asked outright if he needed help. He tilted his head slightly, studying her. Interesting. She could be useful. I mean yeah, he could pay her to be like his other eyes and ears. He leaned back, putting both feet on the table. "I do have some people who help me out. I can't be everywhere at once. Mostly street kids- well, teenagers or adults anyway. They do alright by me if they give me something useful. Do a job for me."
He pursed his lips. The rest of his vanilla shake was on the table. He'd only finished half of it and it definitely had more than a splash of bourbon. He leaned over and handed it across the table to her- "Here ya go. A bit strong, but all that I have left at the moment."- and then sat back, thinking. She wasn't afraid to fight whatever that thing was. Probably was connected to Tenzin. He'd heard about the Atharim in the news. Seemed like one of the other bogeymen that sometimes were talked about in the news. He'd thought maybe they were a cover for the new police force- Domovoi was the name he'd gotten- that had been formed. Plausible deniability and alla that. But maybe there really was some truth to it. Be nice to have someone like that close to him. She'd drop her guard and let things slip, he knew. And that thing with violence smells. Now that could be useful. Knowing who was violent- better yet, if he understood her correctly- who had recently done violence...well, that cold be very helpful.
"I think I could use you. I can't be everywhere at once. You don't scare easily. You can fight. And you have that special schnoz" He smiled. "No. Don't be embarrassed. It's a cute nose." He looked her up and down. I mean yeah, he'd already known she was cute. He didn't have a hard time seeing past dirty faces and clothes. And she cleaned up good. Dolled up, she'd do real well. "How about 'Striking Sweden'? You've got the look of the north anyway. Mooks wouldn't mind you hanging around. Especially if they think there's something in it for them." He remembered how uncomfortable she'd looked when he'd offered her the robe. "Not that you'd have to do anything like that. Flirt would be about the most of it. Snarky works as well. Some guys like the chase."
Another moment. "Yeah. Ok. I've got a friend who probably could get you work at the Nebesa Gate Casino. Sometimes the Kolomovs and Mordvinovs met there. Other too. Pay is good. Clientele is not rough. The Yakuza have been expanding their territory. The Triads are probably a bit pissed at that since they've been here longer. And the Russian's are probably working at holding on to what they have. Be good to know who's meeting who. It's a start."
He nodded. He didn't have partners- beyond those brief sexual flings- nor was he looking for one. But having someone dependable who could move into places pretty easily..."Yeah, that works for me. If you do well with that...who knows where you might be needed. Can you pretend? Dress up? Do the hair? Sexy outfits?" He smiled slyly at the idea.
That was about the end of it. Skittish as she was, he wasn't gonna imply that there was a cost to his helping her. Paying was dumb anyway. And in fact, he really wasn't helping her. Like I said, he used street kids all the time. It wasn't doing favors. It was business. "You can stay here tonight. Take the couch. It's comfortable enough. I've slept on it more times than I can remember. I can get you situated tomorrow- place to stay, that job. A bit of training. Some clothes. If you're gonna work there, you gotta look the part."
He looked at the nearly empty shake he had pushed over and then remembered. "Oh yeah. I got Kahlúa," He did a mental inventory of his kitchen. "Latte Martini? Mudslide?" He smiled innocently. "White Russian?" He went on.. "I know a few drinking games that might pass the time. Sevens is good. James Bond. That requires watching a movie." He shrugged. "Or whatever. TV. Sleep." He really didn't have company, aside from playing. These were thing he did at bars or at someone's house or some over meetup or munch.
What did people do when they weren't hooking up or working?
The more he talked it over, the more excited Rune got. She was literally on the edge of her seat, nodding along quite emphatically. And it had nothing to do with the second-hand milkshake (with bourbon - yum). It was the first time she’d seen Mik truly pensive. He seemed a little like a different person then. Smart, she meant. Not that he came across as dumb, but there was something really interesting about how he kind of shifted from one facade to the other all while still being so completely him. She swallowed a twinge of nervousness at the idea of being more than one thing. Of showing different sides to yourself to others. Rune knew a lot about that kind of thing. Usually she found it fun, flaunting secrets, but when the time came to actually show the cards, when the stakes were real, she usually shied away last minute.
And she found herself at that exact same threshold now. The job sounded amazing, and she could actually do it. She was sure. Though she’d never had a real job in her life. Plus she didn’t even know if she was still legally in the country, but that was a problem Mik could probably figure out later. So it wasn’t the work or even the idea of having actual responsibilities that made her second guess herself.
It was the clothes.
She bit her lip thoughtfully, and wondered if she could change the subject somehow. “Oh my god white russians! Yes i love those!” she nodded readily at the offer, and when the drink was ready, gulped at the smooth creamy cocktail like she hoped it would smooth out some of her nerves too.
“I love makeup. LUVE it. You’d shit a kitten to know how I used to look. And my hair too. I used to style my hair in every color possible. But I’m not sure I can pull off the rest. Everything below the neck is, well… I’m not like sexy. I mean, not like other girls.”
Between the boozy shakes and the white russian, she wasn’t quite as nervous, and wondered what it would be like - no it was a stupid idea. He'd not be into her. But still, she pat the cushion next to her to see if Mik might come a little closer. Meanwhile, she chewed at a bit at her thumbnail and looked up. The dark circles under her eyes were probably all the darker by the motion.
Well she sure seemed to light up. Which he liked. Maybe it was the booze. It was good stuff, after all. I mean between his own shake- with that healthy glug of bourbon- to his vodka- no White Russian for him. Too much sweet after the shake- he had a pretty good buzz going on. Not even close to drunk. But definitely buzzed. She was much smaller than him and had polished off the rest of that shake as well as her White Russian. She had to be pretty toasty.
Her enthusiasm was genuine, like she was excited about the opportunity. Mik relaxed, enjoying her energy. His worry that she'd think he expected her to put out to get his help faded. Yeah, really. He had the feeling that if she wanted to leave, she would leave. Probably making sure to bust his nose in the leaving. So he relaxed and laughed at her gushing about hair color and make up. Tilting his head, he could see it on her, then nodded. Probably a rainbow. He could tell she had been proud of it.
But then, well, she seemed to close up. Like she felt less, or...something. Which plain made no sense to him.
He frowned, then laughed. "Doll, please. I was totally checking out your ass when we were in the tunnels," he said, shaking his head. Then, "Like seriously. A very nice body," She seemed nervous. Unsure about herself. Like for instance, she patted the cushion next to her, wanting him to come sit by her. And then looked scared, like she thought he wasn't gonna. Poor thing. He wondered how experienced she was. It wasn't like Mik was gonna say no to her. There was no possibility of that.
But then again, she probably didn't know that. He smiled at her reassuringly and stood, moving slowly around the coffee table to sit next to her. Their bodies touched slightly, but he sat back a bit. Give her a bit of space to get used to being this close. He wouldn't overwhelm her or anything.
He made a point to study her face and hair, nodding and smiling. "Yeah, I can totally see it. I bet you looked great." He gestured with his head to the back of the apartment, saying "I think have some coloring here, if you want." He raised an eyebrow. "You'd need the shower again, of course." Then a smaller smile, voice quieter. "I'd be happy to help with that."
And then he tilted his head slightly to look her in the eyes, tone completely serious. "Trust me. You are sexy. I know this stuff." He paused, enjoying the closeness, trying to see what was going on in her brain. Fear? Loneliness? Longing? He didn't know. Not like he was a mind reader. All he knew was that he really wanted to kiss her. More than that, obviously, from the tightness in his groin. Well, it's not like it was a secret. Then again, maybe she didn't notice. He put his hand gently on her thigh, near her knee. His voice was low. "Yeah. I mean it. Fucking sexy." He touched his tongue to his lips and smiled, nostrils flaring at the scent of her as he leaned in and kissed her.
Her heart was thumping when Mik rounded the room. It wasn’t just the way he was looking at her, but the way he talked was convincing enough that she almost believed it. He likes you. You like him. It’s good. You’re good. Just go with it, Rune.
He sat down and when she looked into his eyes, it was while trying to see straight through the back of his head and glimpse the wall beyond. She shifted a little, not away exactly, but to get a little more comfortable. Yet she could shift across the continent and still be unsure of herself. You’re being stupid. You’re no kid. Act cool. So she forced herself to really look him in the eye.
Her eyes widened with brief alarm by the touch on her leg, and she barely had a moment to swallow before the softness of lips brushed hers. She found herself pressing her lips back upon his and parted them just barely to feel the wetness of his tongue beyond. Every inch of her skin prickled tight. It’s cool. He likes you. She laid her hand on his and pulled it upward along her thigh until, well, there was no more leg to go.
And when their hands found what they found, Rune pulled away to look for the inevitable reaction. It was a sort of comical wince that settled on her face, anticipating what was surely going to be inevitable rejection.
Her kiss was hesitant for only a moment, and then she seemed to bloom. Or melt, rather. Her mouth opened to him and she let go.
Oh yeah, he liked that, liked it a lot. This was the kind of play he enjoyed, someone realizing this was what they wanted and finally giving into that desire.
Remembering his promise, he pulled on the power deeply, felt it fill him. He could taste the cool brandy and chocolate and cream on her lips and warm tongue, the soft feel of her mouth silky and welcoming, yielding and open. Her breath on his face was hot and rushed, feeling, hearing her heartbeat pound through her chest against his.
She wanted this. Her breath sped up as her hand grabbed his at her leg, hungrily slid it up her thigh. With the power, the material of the sweatpants was beyond soft, the feel of her thigh underneath solid as his hand drew ever closer to her sex.
Yeah, he was surprised at her bringing him into home so quickly. Not that he was gonna complain. You fucking kidding?
Her hand pressed and held his against a hardness he recognized instantly. Indeed, the power made every inch harder than he could have imagined.
And suddenly his world shifted, everything changing in an instant. Everything from this night reoriented itself, even as she pulled back, hand and face, the fear plain in her eyes, her face wincing, waiting for his reaction.
He didn't pull his hand away. Nope. Not in the slightest. Instead, he smiled broadly and left it there, adjusting, holding her with light pressure, gentle but definitely indicating his desire hadn't gone anywhere.
His voice was low and warm, trying to sound reassuring. "Don't worry Rune. I told you you're sexy." His smile deepened. "I meant it. That hasn't changed."
She had been scared to show him who she was. Was it possible this was her first time? Given the hail Mary and then her reaction, probably. He shifted so that he could pull her to close him, so that she could feel him against her, that he wanted her, wanted her real bad.
His heart pounded with desire, the power filling every inch of him, electrifying him somehow.
Nope. None of that had changed at all.
He kissed her again with that power in him.
She didn’t know what to expect. Hoped, maybe, but didn’t actually expect Mik’s reaction to be a positive one. Her brows rose high, and her eyes narrowed suspicious that it was an elaborate trick. When he leaned in a second time, she didn’t pull away, and all concern kind of melted out of her body.
She couldn’t help the smile that formed around his mouth. The kiss was wet and her breath quickly deepened to something she couldn’t control. She didn’t feel sexy in sweats, and she suddenly wished she’d worn the robe instead for all she wanted out of their heat. She definitely didn’t act on that impulse, not yet, but she did slide down onto her back and tugged on his shirt to follow.
With the power coursing through him, his senses were enhanced in way that was familiar. Like there were times when he was blind folded, gagged and tied up- maybe spread eagle, maybe hogtied for that extra element of pain and strain- and then left in the dark.
Part of the experience was the anticipation and helplessness, listening, feeling for their return, imagining what was going on, what might happen. Being under the complete control of a Dom. And after however long it was, when they came back, every sound, every whisper even, caressed his ears and he could almost taste it. The sounds of objects and tools, of leather and the clink of metal a story. Every touch, rough or smooth, every pinch or shock or caress or tug, was so real as to be something he could almost see. It was experience cranked up to a level that would normally require X or Blue or something else to achieve.
This surpassed all of it. It felt as if every part of his skin was hand and eyes and nose and ears and tongue.
So when Rune pulled at his shirt, the cotton was unbelievably beyond soft rubbing against his skin. The air touching his now exposed chest was cool and brisk. The feel of her body under him, soft and hard, muscle and bone, his thigh lightly pressing against her sex, was curves and firm and inviting.
He pulled at her shirt in turn, gently negotiating it over her head even as he tugged at his own pants. The cold air at the back of him, the blazing heat of her body under him, icy heat that mirrored the flow of the Lady's luck as he rode those waves of lava and snow, of ice flows and molten steel.
Her face and his were breathed the same air, the smell of her filling his brain. His hand pulled on her pants, revealing her finally, honest and naked and open, before their bodies pressed together, letting him feel her naked skin completely against his own, experiencing her in a way he never expected.
And then he pulled back to look at her and smile at the wonder, before diving below those flaming frozen waves once again.
Yeah, so maybe the power while fucking was gonna be something he did from now on. Cuz this was shaping up to be as good as it ever had been.