FIC: other things the road to hell is paved with [22/?]

[luciazephyr]

Title: other things the road to hell is paved with [22/?]
Rating/Warnings: PG-13, potentially R or NC-17 later.
Summary: Another way the Baron rose to power. Another way the wizard became a Knight.
Word Count: This chapter: 5,268. So far: 124,711.

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Chapter Eight | Chapter Nine | Chapter Ten | Chapter Eleven | Chapter Twelve | Chapter Thirteen | Chapter Fourteen | Chapter Fifteen | Chapter Sixteen | Chapter Seventeen | Chapter Eighteen | Chapter Nineteen | Chapter Twenty | Chapter Twenty-One

"I know your life motto," I told John over breakfast the next day. I was nursing a hangover after last night, a steady, persistent pressure behind my eyes. John gave me some mild, bland food, a tall glass of water, and two aspirin.

He, of course, looked fine. He was already in his suit, tie hanging loose around his shoulders as he drank his latte and tore through a bowl of Greek yogurt and fruit. I had no idea what made yogurt Greek or American or whatever, but he always made a point to specify.

"Hm?"

"I know your life motto."

"Do tell," John said in that tone that meant he was listening, but humoring me. He started trying to do his tie with one hand as he finished his breakfast.

I didn't take it personally. I knew he had all the Red Court locations Morgan had shown us at the meeting to look into. Hurricane Marcone was about to descend upon Bianca's people. "No rest for the wicked."

"Am I wicked, Harry?" He tugged his tie into a neat half Windsor.

"Duh."

He smirked at me playfully. "And yours, Wizard Dresden, would be what? There is no kill like overkill?"

"Bite me," I mumbled through a mouthful of toast. "I bet you'd pick some pretentious Latin motto."

"You speak Latin."

"I think most would disagree with you there." I was well-aware what I spoke would be generously referred to as Dog Latin. "Come on, tall, dark, and pretentious."

John took his bowl to the sink and washed his hands, not responding right away. I waited, because John never backed down over little things like this. And I was right. He tossed me a grin and said, "Si non confectus, non reficiat." He grabbed his briefcase and touched my shoulder as he went to the door. "Mind your headache, and tell Ebenezar thank you for the help at the meeting." And just like that he swept out of the room.

I puzzled over the Latin he'd tossed at me. It sounded familiar...

Oh. God, he quoted Discworld at me. That... that just wasn't fair. Fitting, though. John Marcone clearly took his lessons in heroism from Machiavelli and Vetinari.

I didn't have too much time to ponder the squiggly, warm feelings a little nerdy book-quoting gave me. I was meeting Ebenezar before he left for Missouri. He'd insisted on it. Given how much about John and I came out in the Council meeting, I wasn't exactly looking forward to it.

But... all things considered, I probably needed to talk to him anyway. The squiggly feelings made that obvious.



I found the place Ebenezar was staying at and met with him in the hotel's restaurant. I wasn't hungry, still nauseated from my hangover, but the cafe-bar mixture reminded me of the calm dark of Mac's Pub. The dark helped my headache too, so it worked out pretty well.

Eb ordered a soda water and a big BLT sandwich, tucking into it before striking up any conversation. "So. Marcone."

I leaned forward on the table. "Okay, he may have... made me an offer I couldn't refuse."

"With lycanthropes."

"Yeah." God, it felt like a lifetime ago. It was, in a way, a whole other life ago. So much had changed, I could barely keep track of it all. "But that was... do we have to talk about this?"

Eb took a big bite of his sandwich, letting me stew for a moment. "Don't have to do anything you don't want to, Hoss."

Which meant yeah, I did. "That was back at the start. It's not like that now." I stole a fry off Eb's plate. "It's not like I'm in thrall to him. I chose this, he chose me. He swore his loyalty on the city and to John that's... that's as close as he can get to a wizard swearing on his power. We're partners."

"Partners," Eb repeated slowly. "Hoss, at the risk of... hearin' something I don't want to, what's that mean?"

"I-I didn't mean it like-- sir, I did not get hitched or anything." God, that he even thought that was kind of mortifying. Moreso because I could see where he got that impression. I lived with John, I was his pet wizard, we got kind of... flirty. Sometimes. Okay, a lot. "It's him and me against the world. People threaten Chicago, we take care of it. He's not going to try any mafia crap on me and I kind of turn a blind eye to his shadier business."

"That all, boy?" His blue eyes settled on me, quiet and calm.

Out with it, Dresden. You've been knee-deep in a backwards river in Egypt for a while. I took a deep breath, then said softly, "Would... would it be bad it that wasn't all?"

"How much more is it?"

"Hell's bells, I don't know. This is kind of..." I gestured vaguely, trying to encompass the whole novel craziness of my life. "It's a new thing for me. I don't know. But I like him, I guess?" I shrugged and dropped my gaze to the bar top, toying with a cardboard coaster there, just to occupy my hands. "A year ago, I didn't even like him, now I just... get this tightness in my gut and..."

Eb held up a hand. "You can spare me the intimate details, Hoss. Just want to make sure you know what you're getting into."

I chuckled. "I really don't."

"You know he treats you like you're his, right? Never seen a man that handsy." He sipped his water. "Might be dangerous, letting him that close."

"I know. He's got my Name and a contract I signed to serve him. He could do nasty stuff to me. I... don't think he's going to, though. Hell, he could've died yesterday, doing that."

"Protecting what he saw as his."

"Okay, yeah, he's territorial, but he's not that bad-- no," I changed my mind, laughing. "No, he is. But I knew that signing on. And it's screwed up sometimes, but it works." I looked sideways at Eb. "Sir... he wants to do something no one else has tried. And I think he's got a shot. I want to help him. Be part of that."

Eb nodded like he expected that. "Council's not going to like it."

"I know."

"Might get hard with them, if you stick around this guy. More ways than one."

"It's worth it," I said, before I even realized it was true.

"All right, Hoss." Eb lifted his glass to me. "You're being more of a damn fool than usual, but at least you're aware of it. That's important."

I... think that meant I had his blessing. I was doing this. It was for real.

Huh. Now what?



Even knowing I wanted a... relationship, I guess? Even knowing that, I could hardly just go and jump John's bones. For one, he was John Marcone, and startling him would probably end in me being stabbed or shot. For two, the son of a bitch wasn't around. Whatever was going on with the Reds was taking up a lot of his time. I'd hoped after the Council meeting I'd see him more, but instead of shutting himself up in his home office, he just didn't come home until insane hours in the morning. I found myself worrying about him, whether he was eating and sleeping enough, which was such a turnabout, it gave me whiplash.

So I had to figure out what else to do with my shiny new revelation that I wanted to make good on the ridiculous amount of flirting we'd been doing.

I babysat the Carpenter kids, even though Molly swore up and down she was capable of watching everyone herself. Michael and Charity were taking a day to themselves, which they rightly deserved. Even if it meant I was stuck with the rugrats all evening, I got all fuzzy thinking about my friends who were lucky enough to have a marriage still going strong after so many years.

Daniel and I moved the sofa and the television in the living room as far apart as possible, then crowded everyone on the sofa as Pixar movies played. The distance between me and the DVD player helped, though the subtitles kept cycling at random points in the movies. Toy Story's audio track changed to German for the last half of the movie, which was weird since I didn't think a German track was included on the disc. That Sid kid was fucking terrifying in the language though. Otherwise, it went well. The little ones got teary at the end of Monsters, Inc and crying must have exhausted them because they dropped off halfway through Finding Nemo.

I ended up under a pile of little Carpenters. Baby Harry was tucked under one arm while Hope lay under the other, and Amanda slept with her head in Molly's lap and feet in mine. Daniel wisely elected to sit on the floor, leaning back against the sofa with Alicia dozing on his arm.

"When are your parents getting back? I'm cramping up," I complained.

"They didn't say," Molly said breezily. "Why, got somewhere to be?"

"Yeah, a hot date," I said sarcastically, nudging Daniel in the shoulder with my knee. If I bothered him enough, he might try to unload some of the tykes off me. Unlike Molly, he was a good kid who respected his wizardly elders.

Or so I thought. "You, on a date?" He crossed himself gravely. "Godspeed to the poor soul."

I snorted. "You kid, but he's out fighting vampires right now. He could use the blessing." Molly and Daniel both whirled to stare at me, eyes bright and wide. I rewound what I said, looking for what caught their attention. Oh. "Hang on, now--"

"He? You're dating a guy?"

"Who is he? Do we know him?"

"Does he really hunt vampires?"

"Ohmigosh, are you dating Sanya?"

Daniel rolled his eyes. "Harry's never met Sanya, Molly."

"They should meet!" She grabbed my shoulder. "Can we set you up with Sanya? He's really nice and sexy and has this amazing Russian accent."

"Wait, so you're gay?" Daniel finally asked, a little late, I thought.

"I-I am not gay! And I'm not being set up on a blind date! Hell's bells, you two," I snapped in a hushed shout, trying not to wake the children.

Molly clapped. "You're bisexual! That is so cool!"

"I am not-- bedtime, now!" I didn't stop to think about the fact that I might've been bisexual. I mean, that's the term for people who enjoy sex with their gorgeous reporter girlfriends then go on to want to crawl into the laps of their mafia lord benefactors, right? I didn't have time for an identity crisis. "Daniel, wake up Alicia and take Harry. Molly, get Amanda, I'll get Hope."

There was much grumbling at my delegating, but it got done right before Michael and Charity got home. I caught sight of them after tucking Hope in and let out a sigh of deep, profound relief. "Oh, thank God."

Michael smiled. "That bad, Harry?"

"Your kids are going to eat me alive one day," I said, already grabbing my coat. "How was dinner?"

Charity eyed me severely. I guess running out on them as soon as they walked in made a bad impression. She was on her guard already. "It was fine. Did the children give you trouble?"

"No! No, no," I said too fast. "No more than usual. We just watched movies and had the stew you left for them. They're all asleep, so don't worry there. I'll just be on my way--"

Molly bounced out and threw her arms around me. "You're leaving? Without saying bye?"

"Uh," I said, flushing red. Please don't say it, please don't say it, I thought frantically at her. "Bye, gotta run and you need sleep, Molly, so--"

She let go, pouting cutely at me. "Right, your hot date with the mystery man," she said, wriggling her fingers.

"I'm not gay, Molly!" I half-shouted on reflex, then felt myself go beet red. "I mean, shit, I mean..." I ducked into the kitchen, out from the three sets of eyes boring into me. I found the swear jar and shoved a dollar into it before turning to make a dash for the door.

Michael's a big guy. He wasn't Hendricks big, but he was larger than I was. When he stood in the doorway, it was impossible to get by him. "Harry, calm down. What's wrong?"

"I'm not gay!" I seemed to be stuck on that. Stars and stones, I had to sort my issues out. Was there a therapist in the entire city who could handle me though? Not likely. Once I told them about the part where I set my surrogate father on fire after making a deal with my faerie godmother, they'd probably need psychiatric help themselves. "I-- erm. I may be... not... straight though?"

Michael looked a little shocked. Confession in the middle of my best friend's kitchen at a quarter to midnight was probably not the best idea I'd ever had. "I... see," he said slowly. "Want to sit down? Talk about it?" He held out his hands, like he was coaxing me down.

I was feeling a mite twitchy. I made use of my wizardly focus and took a moment to chill the hell out with a few deep breaths. "I'm good. Sorry."

"Of course, Harry." He leaned against the archway, subtly giving me enough room to run for it if I so chose. "You know I'm here if you need to talk."

Oh stars, really? We were going to do this now? The panic drained out of me, replaced by incredulity. Michael and I fought demons and monsters together, working together fluidly and effectively. But sit us down and start talking about feelings...

Admittedly, that was more my issue. Michael was nothing if not open about his emotions. I guess weekly confessionals will do that to a guy. Me, I clammed up so hard, you needed a crowbar to pry me open.

"Look, it's not a big deal, but I may be kind of interesting in a guy. That's not a big deal, right?"

Molly poked her head into the kitchen. "Daddy, is Sanya gay or bi? 'Cause I think we could set them up--"

"Molly, come on." I put my face in my hands. The girl was going to drive me crazy. I had more and more respect for Charity as I spent more time with her.

"I'm... not sure," Michael said bemusedly, putting an arm around his oldest's shoulders and leaning down to kiss her forehead. "Harry and I need to talk. Why don't you head up to bed?"

Molly sighed, but trod off obediently.

I winced. "Talk? Really?"

Michael shrugged. "Not if you don't want to."

Unlike with Eb, that really did mean it was up to me. But it'd either be now or later, and Michael deserved to know. "So. Um. John Marcone."

"Ah," he said.

"'Ah'? What's 'ah'? Is 'ah' good or bad?"

"It's..." Michael rubbed his eyes, looking tired. "It's a non-committal noise, Harry."

Oh... Hey, maybe there was a silver lining to this. "So, does this mean I don't have to go to Mass anymore? Non-believer, practitioner of witchcraft, and not-straight, that's like Heathen Bingo, right?"

Michael cracked up into a loud, echoing laugh of genuine mirth. Which I think meant we were okay. Which... good. Because until that moment, when the knot in my chest loosened, I didn't really get that I'd been more scared of losing my title of Uncle Harry than I had been of losing Wizard Dresden of the White Council.

But it was fine. We were fine.

Cool indeed.



I was secure in the knowledge the Carpenters already put up with enough from me so this wasn't going to break the bank. That left me with a giddy, soft feeling in my chest and I walked around smiling like an idiot for a while.

Not that anyone was around to see it. The mansion was empty but for the usual house guards. After the third dinner alone, I figured I needed to get out for a while. I decided to go bother Chicago's tabletop-playing canine Justice League.

Sadly, the Alphas' game was a long campaign I wasn't going to ruin for them. Mitchell already was playing tank for the party, so I rolled out a bard to tag along who was a glorified buff-bot. It wasn't my usual role, a guy with higher charisma than strength, but I made do.

Georgia was behind the GM screen this time. She kept having to shove Billy away when he tried to peak past it at her papers. Since he started doing that, the monsters his cleric fought had suspiciously high rolls against him. "At the end of the hall, you come across a light after so long in the dark. The rough cave walls gradually give way to carefully hewn stone blocks and mounted torches guide your path. Ahead is the gate to the dark king's stash of treasure."

"Wait for it..." Alex murmured.

"Before the gate is a knight. He is grand and terrible, radiating power as he stands in the way. He has guarded this place for many years. You are not the first party to face him," she continued.

Billy tried to appeal to the knight's higher nature to make him move. The knight was resolute in his devotion to the king.

Alex tried to cloak and sneak around the knight, but couldn't roll high enough to counter the fact that the knight could see him go invisible.

Cindy, playing ranger again, worked with Andi's druid to try and feint past the knight only for Cindy to fumble the Lockpick skill check.

"Hell's bells," I said, laughing. "Maybe we should pack up and go home. Try something easier, like infiltrating a dragon's nest."

"Nuh-uh, you gotta try too," Alex said. "Let the bard make an attempt on the impervious knight or be cast from the party! Yea?"

"Yea," said everyone in the party.

"Oh, fine. Hm." I looked at my character sheet. Charisma and dexterity. Not a lot else. "Okay, I have a good Bluff skill. I'm going to distract the guard, then the rest of you guys can sneak by. Alex, pick the lock." Once he nodded, I turned to Georgia and said, "I saunter up to the knight and start to chat him up."

Georgia stared at me for a beat. "What?"

"Chat him up. Ask him when the last time he got to the pub was, if he gets out often, ask what kind of music he likes. Maybe offer to play him a song."

"I... right, okay." She shook herself and looked at something behind her screen. "The... the knight it clearly listening, but says nothing."

"Well, maybe I ramp it up a bit. Touch his arm, ask if he ever gets stuffy in that big suit of armor of his. Oh, hey, I'll attempt to Fascinate him with a song." I picked up my dice and rolled. "Fourteen with the plus-three on my instrument, right?"

Andi held up a hand. "Hang on. Are you... hitting on the knight?"

"I'm experimenting with play style a bit," I said quietly. "Is that okay?"

Andi instantly nodded. I figured. I'd heard about her... 'play style' from the others. "Nah, just... You know."

Cindy bobbed her head along too. "Unexpected. But good. It's good to try out new things."

"Yeah," Alex added, catching on. "Plenty of guys like playing bard once they try it. A lot don't realize it's their thing until they've been playing for a few years. Totally normal."

Billy groaned quietly and took a big gulp of beer.

I silently concurred, even if I was grateful the Alphas were in the same boat as the Carpenters with this. I looked to Georgia, who seemed to be waiting on us. She rolled the die. "The knight's saving throw fails. You've got his attention with... a playful love song?" She was looking to me for approval.

Worked for me. "Perfect. Guys? Want to get that door open while I've got him distracted?"

"Right... yeah..." Alex smirked and made his Pick Lock skill check. This time everyone managed to get into the room thanks to my flirting with the NPC.

We weren't ready for the goblins inside, but that was a different story.



I was all ready to walk into John's office towards the end of his day and whisk him off for... something. I was still working on the specifics when I headed to Executive Priority, but I had a knack for playing things by ear and making it through. I was all ready to bank on that talent of mine.

But John wasn't there. Surprise, surprise.

Hendricks looked at me as I came in. "Not here."

I threw my hands up. "Right. Of course." I spent the last few days coming clean with my friends and I couldn't get five minutes with the guy anyway.

Hendricks shook his head. "S'not personal. He's out of town for the night."

"His monthly thing? Oh. Well, my timing just sucks apparently." I sighed dramatically. "I really wanted to talk to him."

Hendricks shut his briefcase and wandered over to me, waving me back. I took the hint and backed out of the room so he could lock it up. "Been a rough week for him. Lot of juggling. Big push on the Reds and we found someone skimming funds. Gotta launch an investigation in the Outfit, which is always tricky."

"I didn't know that," I murmured. "He doesn't tell me these things."

"I know. S'why I am." He got the office nice and sealed before looking me up and down, carefully dodging my eyes. By now, he was good at that. "Anything important?"

"No. Uh, yes, but..." I did not shuffle my feet like a nervous schoolgirl. If only because I was lacking the blond ringlet to twirl coquettishly around my finger. Stars... "It's important, but not like that."

He nodded slowly. "Up for Typhoon? Friday they have fried calamari. Really good stuff."

"Isn't that squid?"

"No. Coming or what?"

I went along. With John on his randomly monthly sabbatical to wherever it was he went, I had time to burn. Typhoon remained as effortlessly chic, classy, and quiet as ever. Outfit bar or not, it was a nice place. One day I needed to take Cujo to Mac's as thanks. He'd love the brew, if not the lack of wi-fi.

We got a giant bowl of crispy fried loops with thick, spicy-tangy sauce to dip. "This is great, what is it?"

"Squid," Cujo said with a little smug smile.

"You asshole." I looked at one ring of battered almost-spongey goodness and decided fuck it, I didn't care what it was made of. It wasn't like it was caviar or escargot. I popped another in my mouth. "How's the admission essay going?"

Hendricks shrugged. "Fine. Just left out the parts about how working for the Mob's given me a unique perspective on relativistic philosophy."

"Good?"

He chuckled, then launched abruptly into an explanation of the basic schools of philosophy that he'd been reading on. Words like 'moral absolutism,' 'Cartesian,' and 'Epistemology.' On the flip side, I finally learned how you were supposed to say 'Descartes.' I'd been doing it wrong, apparently. You weren't supposed to pronounce about half the letters.

"So what about you? You good?" Hendricks asked solicitously, like a luggish, red-headed agony aunt.

"Yeah, can't complain." The calamari dwindled by then and I licked the salt and lemon juice off my fingers. "Just... No, I'm good."

Hendricks watched me keenly. "What'd the boss do now? He says stupid shit sometimes. He doesn't think. Or thinks too much, I dunno."

"No, he didn't... we're fine. More than fine. Great."

Hendricks' eyes widened. "Oh. Oh, shit." It was dark in the bar, but Hendricks has the sort of skin tone that showed color really easily. He was blushing, Hell's bells. "I didn't know you were--"

I put up my hands. "Whoa, hey, we're not yet."

"Boss couldn't be more obvious about it, but I didn't know you two got your fucking acts together already--"

This was mortifying. Way to jump to conclusions, Cujo. Though it was telling just how fast he got from Point A to Point Harry and John Are Together-Together.

Together-Together. Stars, I was being an idiot about this. Sleeping together. There.

"Cujo, buddy," I said slowly. "We aren't. I'm not saying it won't happen, but it hasn't yet."

"Oh." He frowned. "How... how soon we talkin'?"

"I don't exactly have it penciled in on my calendar!" A thought hit me. "John doesn't have it on his, right?"

Hendricks groaned and leaned his face into his hand. I took that as a no, and damn you for making me think of that.

While we were on the topic, though, I couldn't help but want to ask... Hendricks was John's right hand man. Unlike me, he wasn't insulated from anything John did. He'd be the one to ask about anything. So I shifted nervously in my seat and asked, "What do you think?"

His eyes narrowed at me, stare so intent I could feel the pull of a soulgaze. I broke contact just in time to avoid it. "Bit of a foregone conclusion. I've had to watch you two forever now." Cujo shrugged, like it was no big deal. And it probably wasn't. Watch your boss flirt with a man, watch your boss kill child abusers and traitors in cold blood. One of those things was probably more disturbing than the other. "But it's good. You make him..." He glanced around, checking for eavesdroppers like he always did when he talked about sensitive information. "More human. Sometimes I watch him and I think he's too good at playing the hardass mafia boss. Maybe he can't stop. Then you show up and he does."

I squashed the girlish voice that said, he really likes me! upon hearing that. Man up, Dresden.

"Then again, there's times I think he wants to put a leash on you," Cujo said. That wasn't news to me. I could see the fierce, protective worry every time I got into a tough scrape and barely survived. I lived in fear of the day I did something too reckless and woke up in the mansion's panic room tied to the bed.

"Think I should get out while I can?"

Hendricks snorted. "Yeah, right. We wouldn't be talking about this if you could, Dresden." He took a long drag of his beer and leaned back in the chair. "That's all I gotta say. Good luck. If you ever give me any details, I'll break your neck."

I laughed and saluted him with my bottle. "Ten-four, Cujo."



When the weekend finally rolled around, I sought out the elusive man himself. Over the last week, I only got to see him for two or three hours cumulatively.

But finally, finally, I found John in the home office after his morning meetings, undoing his tie with one hand as he checked his Blackberry with the other. He wasn't wholly distracted though. When I walked in, his eyes flicked to me, swept up and down me like he was confirming I was all right, then returned to poking at his fancy phone thing.

"All quiet on the western front yet?"

"Getting there," he said cautiously, like he was worried about jinxing it.

"What'd I miss?"

"We confirmed the Warden's reports on Red Court strongholds across the city. Then we made a concentrated push, like a domino effect. We took out each shelter in turn, herding the Reds in the directions we needed. Once we had them cracked down in the last three hovels, we wiped the lot out." He nodded to himself and shut off his Blackberry, tossing it on his desk before leaning against it himself. "The papers tomorrow will be talking about mysterious gas explosions in the Princeton Park and Longwood Manor."

I sauntered forward, leaning across the back of the guest chair and batting my eyelashes. "Aw, John, you went setting fires and you didn't invite me?"

"How remiss of me. I apologize," he murmured. "I didn't mean to leave you out."

That was as good an opening as any. I took all the courage I'd been storing up all week and said, "Want to make it up to me?" Just like that I had John's full attention. Some hot shade of nervousness ran through me. "Dinner, this evening? If you're free?"

John blinked and his face went utterly and totally blank, which meant I'd surprised him. "I am."

"Dinner, then. And, uh..." I looked away, then realized I needed to grow a spine and just do it; I met his eyes again. "Movie? The theatre I use near the Art Institute, I think they're doing the new Kill Bills back to back. Or that weird new Burton one if that's more your thing."

"Ultraviolence does loose its artistic appeal when you run the Mafia," he said dryly. He looked a little taken aback though. His hands were curled over the edge of the desk and I saw his grip tighten. I wet my lips, anxious, and his eyes snapped to my mouth. Oh man. "And a double feature would mean we'd be tired when we got back."

"Wouldn't... wouldn't want that."

"If you'd deign to wear the bracelets, we could go to an arthouse theatre I own," John suggested.

I didn't really care at that point what the hell we watched, but I needed to keep the banter going or I might do something drastic like jumping him. "Trying to get me to expand my horizons again, John?"

The intensity of his stare ratcheted up. "Only if you're ready for such a thing, Mr. Dresden."

I shivered right down to my toes. We so weren't talking about movies anymore. "Tell you what, I'll take care of dinner, you take care of the movie. You're..." My face got warm. "You've got more experience in that kind of thing."

"I think I can do that," John said on a low exhale, eyes dark.

"Don't get too... out of my league, okay?" This metaphor was getting tortured, I could tell. "Nothing with subtitles or anything."

John bit his lower lip, smothering a smile. I think he also knew this whole conversation was getting out of hand. "Baby steps, I understand. What time would you like to leave?"

He was putting it on my terms, as always. I was grateful. I let out a sigh of relief. "Five-thirty?"

"Done."

"Cool. Great. Okay." I nodded to myself and backed up to the door. "I'll... see you then." I ducked out into the hallway and nearly ran to my room to hide.

Oh god, what was I doing?

I was...

I was going to get dressed and try to look decent and pick out a nice restaurant to bring Gentleman Johnnie Marcone out to. I'd pay, then let him take me out to some artsy movie that would be deeply allegorical and cerebral. Then we'd come back and...

I went into my bathroom and splashed water on myself. As I leaned over the sink, letting the water drip off my face and into the basin, I thought of that dark leafy hue John's eyes turned, the gun and knife callouses on his hands, and the possibility of tiger stripes underneath his clothes.

Yeah. I wanted that. Maybe I wasn't totally sure about the details of the that I wanted, but I wanted it bad. And I was going to get it.

Chapter Twenty-three soon


Also this might be a good time to mention there are likely only two chapters left of Book One. Just FYI, ya'll.

Comments

[lightgetsin]

Oh, this is not going to go as planned...

[luciazephyr]

Date night with two chapters to go? Of course not! :throws head back and laughs maniacally: