Killing time [Gracie, Lucas]

[recluse]

[Editor's note: Yes, there was a fade to black. Yes, they had sex. The boys downstairs would have heard the following: sex, sleep, sex, shower, sex, bath. Yes, really. Once again - very strong language warning. Seriously.]

He was just heading out the door to the car when she came down the stairs. "We'll be back," he said to the guys, both apparently occupied. Good. That was the way he wanted it.

Starting up the car, he waited until she got in. They were out of the neighborhood within a few minutes.

"What do you think of Roy." The old Lucas began to seep in, a slowly hardening frown taking over his features.

"He's a bit of a smart ass." She shrugged. There wasn't actually anything wrong with that, but she wondered what he was really like underneath. A day wasn't enough time to get to know him, and not even knowing him by reputation... Well, suffice to say that she wasn't ready to trust him just yet.

"Not entirely sure why he's signing up, but I guess that's between him and Pyro in the end." Rubbing at her arm idly, Gracie's eyes flicked from the road in front of them to him.

"Why? You don't like him?"

He lit a cigarette and got them onto the freeway, looking her over before answering. "You know those guys in action flicks, the ones that end up fucking over the team? That's Roy. He's got his own agenda, and I don't think anything's gonna change that."

"Don't get me wrong, we all got our own reasons for bein there. But something tells me Roy's reasons have nothin to do with mutant rights."

Lucas looked sidelong at her for a moment, then back to the freeway.

"Well, it's not like the Brotherhood is exactly helpless." If Roy ever did try to catch them with their pants down, he'd be dealt with quickly enough. Yeah, his power was impressive, but she was pretty sure that he wasn't the only one of those in the group. Hell, Sparks could just set the guy on fire after all.

"Suppose they've got a few like that - Pyro'll deal with him." Gracie shrugged again. It wasn't her problem... Yet. Once - no, if - it became her problem, Roy would have to watch himself. She wasn't planning on sleeping with one eye open, though - there were plenty of other people to be paranoid about it.

"That what you do, babe? Let the other guy worry about it? I don't know." He shook his head. It was never in Luke's best interest to trust anyone else to watch his back. And he wasn't about to wait until some schmuck tried to pull one over. Maybe she was so good at what she did she didn't have to worry about Roy in the first place.

The idea of her having to defend herself against Roy got his blood zipping through his veins hotter and faster than before. He felt the anger make its way back into his mind, and cleared his throat, rolling his shoulders.

"Just don't be stupid and get too friendly with the guy. I got a feeling he'll use anything you say against you."

Gracie raised an eyebrow, though it was unlikely that he'd see it since he was driving and all that.

"Do I look stupid, Lucas? I'm not going to get all buddy-buddy with him, you don't have to worry about me."

The only reason she could see to get close to Roy was to bite him. Fuck Lucas could be paranoid sometimes, it seemed. Not that he didn't have a reason for it, but still...

"You look like a lot of things," he said, shrugging. But he couldn't hold onto it for long before he broke into a grin and chuckled.

"Did you want to grab anything else while we're out? Last chance I figure. Doesn't seem likely they'd be anywhere real populated."

Unconsciously Lucas reached aside and set his hand on her thigh, squeezing a bit.

Rolling her eyes, Gracie bit back her instinctual response and just stared out the window for a while.

Yeah, you better chuckle.

"Hmm? Nah, I think I'm all good. Unless you're planning on destroying all my clothes." She gave him a bit of a smile, laying her hand over the top of his.

Lucas laughed, one of those rare laughs only now it seemed a little less restrained. Somehow he just knew she'd take it the right way.

"Yeah... I'll be a bit more careful about that. Best you keep your clothes off til after I wake up, I guess." He grinned.

They flew down the freeway towards the city. Exiting into Queens, he wove through the streets into the nastier side of the burrow. "Did you have any idea where Pyro's taking us...?"

"Not a clue." Gracie shrugged.

"Somewhere safe." Well, with a group like the Brotherhood, wanted by pretty much every law enforcement agency... well, anywhere, you'd have to have more than just a safehouse in a fancy neighbourhood. The way she saw it, anyway. Neighbours weren't likely to just ignore someone like the Juggernaut popping down the street for milk and bread.

"How'd you survive out here as trusting as you are? I swear girl... it must have been luck."

Stopping the car on a street you likely shouldn't ever stop on, he got out, grunting "come on," before shutting the door. He waited for her to join him before stepping down the street towards the corner.

Lucas lit another cigarette and looked at her as they walked, shaking his head as he looked away again.

"I know Pyro," she protested, before just shaking her head and getting out of the car.

It wasn't like Lucas could talk, considering where he'd just left his car. Or whoever's car it was.

Gracie was practically dying of curiosity as she walked along beside him, her jaw clenching just a little as she looked around at where they were.

Oddly enough Lucas seemed to relax, or maybe it was just that he looked far more suited to his surroundings than in an empty near-mansion in Long Island. Something about the streets of the city stayed with you when you'd survived their on your own for more than a decade. Lucas James in New York City was like a gladiator in Rome. With all the good and bad that entailed.

Turning the corner, his eyes flickered to her and then over her shoulder before stepping down the street, a practiced motion so commonplace to people like them Gracie may not have even picked up on it. He stopped outside the broken YMCA sign and pulled a set of keys out of his pocket.

Looking at her for a moment, he flicked his cigarette into the gutter. "I'd appreciate it if you not mention this to anyone." He had 'that' tone in his voice- the sort that told her she was here because he trusted her however minutely, but if she betrayed that trust, she'd be treated just like everyone else. With all the good and bad that entailed.

She just nodded, trying to keep the 'What are you, on drugs?' look off her face.

Fuck he was paranoid. It was beginning to make her paranoid. Considering exactly how well Gracie actually knew him, Lucas could have been taking her anywhere. Actually, she really didn't want to think about that.

"Yeah, it's all good, don't worry."

She hoped it would be. Motioning at the place, she waited for him to lead the way.

Truth was, he didn't know what he was getting into when he banged on their hotel room door in the middle of the night. He knew he wanted in with the Brotherhood. For all he knew they had a base somewhere in the city. But from what he'd picked up- both these kids knowing Pyro, but neither of them knowing a location- where they were headed was too far away to leave something this important behind.

Walking into the building, he nodded to the front desk clerk. "Just here for my box," he said, jingling a bright orange locker key in her direction. They didn't seem familiar with one another, but then a lot of drifters came and went from places like this.

He stepped with her into a large room lined with lockers. Easily two hundred of them, all numbered and many of them tagged with gang insignia. He walked straight to the row he was looking for as if he might have found it blind. Sliding the key inside, he opened the door.

"So how'd you end up on the streets, girl." He looked sidelong at her.

Now she was really curious, but she didn't think that avoiding his question would help any.

"Got moved schools when I was fourteen - they didn't like what my bite did to a girl." The bitch had deserved it, but she hadn't been able to write for a good six weeks while the wound had healed, apparently. Which had only served to amuse Recluse more.

"I dunno, they didn't like me at the new one and it just seemed pointless. My mom was always going on about how the neighbours all knew and how I'd ruined my life and finally I just got sick of it. Couldn't deal with her shit anymore." What would have seemed wrong to most people was that she'd had an easier time of living on the streets than she had living at home. Yeah, her life wasn't peachy, but at least she'd been around people that understood her and didn't look down on her for something she couldn't help. Her mutation had become useful, something that other people appreciated. It was a nice change from the revulsion that she'd always gotten at home and school.

Leaning against one of the lockers, she considered him for a moment.

"Why? What about yourself?"

He pulled out a duffle bag, half empty and wrapped it around itself, tucking it under his arm. He didn't look at her as he spoke.

"Mom gave up on me." He said factually. "So did the school system. They wanted to stick me in foster homes, but I wasn't havin it. How old were you?"

He looked in the locker again, and grabbed a stray pack of smokes in the back. Shutting it, he put the key in his pocket again.

"I'm hungry. Let's get somethin to eat before we head back." He turned back towards the door.

"Sixteen."

Her eyes weren't on him, either - she was gazing at the half empty bag tucked under his arm. That he pulled a packet of smokes out as well came as zero surprise to Gracie, but then it seemed like the only time he didn't have a cigarette lit was when his mouth was... occupied elsewhere.

"'Kay." It hadn't sounded like a suggestion, so she just shrugged and agreed even though she wasn't hungry. Might as well eat while she had the chance, though, since there was no way of knowing when she'd next get to.

"What's...? Never mind."

When they stepped outside, Lucas pulled her to him with an arm around her waist and kissed her neck, pressing his lips there for a moment as he took a deep breath in. Lucas lingered there a moment, his eyes closing.

Letting her go, he looked down at her with an implacable expression, then nodded and turned back to the car. He tucked that duffel bag beneath his arm as if it were gold, notably not lighting a cigarette the moment they hit the street.

"You feel like anything in particular?"

Well, that was unexpected. She hadn't really pinned Lucas as the type for public displays of affection, but apparently she was wrong. Or this didn't count as public. One hand slipped around to press against the small of his back, her palm lingering only a moment after he let her go.

"No, I really don't mind, hey."

She really wanted to know what was in that bag. Well, she'd find out eventually, one way or another. It was just a bit difficult for Gracie to imagine what could be so important to him.

"Whatever's easiest."

Lucas was quiet as they got into the car, tucking the duffel bag under his seat and finally lighting a cigarette. He frowned as they tooled out of the neighborhood towards the safer suburbs.

He didn't say anything. In truth, he wasn't sure what to say. It wasn't his habit to spend time with anyone - let alone a girl. He'd asked about her past, and if she wanted something to eat. What else could he say without looking like an ass? In truth, he just wanted to get her naked again. Something told him this time she really would tell him to go to hell.

Clearing his throat, he thought about the contents of the duffel bag. It made him nervous as hell to be moving it from the resting place it had occupied the last five or six years. He'd almost lost it before that trying to keep it with him all the time. He never knew where he'd end up sleeping, and anything not tattooed to you tended to get stolen. His knee joggled a bit at a red light, and he frowned all the harder, agitated as much by his nervousness than by the reason for being nervous in the first place.

Well, this was a little awkward.

Chewing on the inside of her cheek - which would have been a dangerous habit if she wasn't immune to her own venom - Gracie found herself looking out the window and wondering what to say.

Not that she really needed to say anything, but for some reason the silence felt... odd to her. Still, the way she saw it, better to be quiet than one of those annoying chicks that wouldn't shut up even when you wanted them to - she'd had her fair share of encounters with those types.

"Did you just want to get something drive through?" Looking at his knee, and then up at his frown, Gracie wondered again what was in the bag. It was just going to kill her, not knowing, she could tell already. Especially since it was making him so... agitated.

He thought about it for a second. His intention was to get a beer and pick at whatever bar food was available, but it occurred to him she might get weird with him driving after drinking.

Women.

Grunting a little, he sighed. "Pick your place, princess." Was it sarcasm? It was hard to tell.

God he needed a drink.

Princess? Was he taking the piss? Gracie couldn't be sure.

Her eyes flicked over to him for a moment, and when she spoke, her tone was casual.

"I don't give a shit, just thought it'd save you carrying your manbag everywhere." Since his paranoia seemed to be even worse about that thing than normal. Which, given the opinion she'd formed about Lucas being paranoid, was pretty serious.

Frowning, he sounded almost... bitchy as he answered.

"Alright. I just want a drink really. Say we head back into town then. You can grab whatever's at the place we end up stopping."

He rolled his hand over the steering wheel, gripping it too tightly. It cracked a bit under the pressure, and he swore under his breath.

"Fuck. You know... I hope Pyro doesn't fuck around in meeting up with us."

"Yeah, alright. Works for me." Gracie shrugged, frowning as she watched him crack the steering wheel.

There were few times when she actually thought it would be a good idea for her to drive. She didn't exactly pay attention to small things like speed limits and road rules. Still, right now it seemed like he was getting pretty tense - could be better for her to drive so that he could stroke his manbag lovingly, or something.

Then again, knowing her driving, he'd probably be even more tense. She didn't bother commenting.

"It'll be fine." What she felt like saying was 'Jesus christ Lucas, calm the fuck down,' but that didn't seem like the sort of thing that would help. You'd think if anyone could be relaxed today it would be him, but apparently not.

[recluse]

He managed to keep them alive until they got to the little bar down the road from the house. It wasn't their kind of place- too clean and all, too much money in the place. But he found them a booth in the back and ordered three beers with a plate of chicken strips. At least he'd make the pretense of eating.

One beer was gone by the time the waitress made it back to the bar. THEN Lucas seemed to calm down.

He looked at Gracie across the table, and sort of smiled. Sort of.

"Did my driving scare you? You were white knuckled."

"If you knew what my driving was like..." She grinned. "No, your driving is fine. You just seem a little... tense."

Gracie took a small sip of her beer. Almost too small, as if she was trying to compensate for the fact that he'd already finished one. Jesus, whatever was in that bag had left him pretty agitated. Or maybe it wasn't that, maybe it was the whole situation.

Maybe he was just an alcoholic.

He took a slow drink and looked at her, narrowing his eyes a bit.

"You got anything important to you Gracie? Anything that really matters? Or are you too hard a bitch to care what you lose." It wouldn't be a surprise if she said yes. It would mean she was either lying- and he couldn't blame her- or that she was just like most girls on the streets.

Like whores, Lucas had a love hate relationship with street kids.

"Nothing that isn't a part of me."

She was talking about her mutation, of course. Gracie didn't have that many physical possessions that she actually did care about. It wasn't hard to replace the stuff that she kept - she wasn't exactly one for putting sentimental value in shit. Yeah, she had a couple of things that had meaning to her, but it wasn't the things themselves that were important - it was the memory attached to them.

Maybe that was another survival tactic, though. You could always get another necklace to replace the one your first girlfriend had given you - and that way you could pretend it didn't matter if something did happen.

Another day he might have said the same thing. He was known for being hard, cold, detached. Forever. Never cracking. It was his... thing.

Someone could say the combination of leaving the city and meeting the girl of his dreams had thrown him for a loop. But they'd have to know Lucas really well to be able to.

"You still know your mama?"

"Yeah," she paused for a moment, before explaining, "She got me out... last year. Was staying with her until this week."

Everything had happened so quickly, when she thought about it like that.

"She's a bitch, though, always wanted me to be someone that I'm not." Gracie's mom didn't like her mutation. Gracie's mom liked dinner parties and plays and having a daughter that made her look good. For some reason, though, she always took her daughter back in even if it was just for a night, even if Gracie had come back a month before and stolen her purse. They had an odd relationship.

"What happened?" She looked thoughtful over her beer, wondering about more than just Lucas' mom.

"To my mother? She's got to be dead by now. She was a drunk, way gone by the time I was just a kid." He shrugged, obviously long over the pain of it.

"You said out." He frowned with an amused expression. "You telling me you were in jail?"

"For all of three nights. They didn't have anything they could hold me over, as far as they could tell I hadn't done anything wrong."

One of the advantages of not leaving fingerprints. She'd been lucky, really, that none of the cops had come close enough for her to bite. That probably wouldn't have gone down too well. She shrugged.

"I got lucky. Most of the boys got hit with the cure. I thought I was the only one that didn't get it, I didn't know Dom slipped away."

Gracie didn't bother to point out that he'd changed the subject.

He nodded to the waitress and ordered another beer, lighting yet another cigarette.

Cracking his neck, he turned his attention back to her. "Shit. You know.. I wasn't close with anyone who got nailed in the last year." He wasn't close to anyone, but who knew if she knew that or not. "Can't imagine what it must have been like, losing your boys. S'why I never did like that set up." Gangs weren't for him. Benevolent or not, for the purpose of crime or survival, groups never worked out for him.

He tucked the bag a bit closer to him and wished to god he had a chance to change his mind. If he hadn't met Gracie, he might just have.

It had been terrible. If she hadn't met up with Dom the other night, her mom very well could have succeeded in turning her into a 'proper' daughter. Even the ones that had gotten out... Well, they'd been cured. She'd seen one or two and all she could feel was pity. They weren't the same boys anymore, it was like when they'd been cured they'd lost who they were.

Gracie just shrugged and took a long swig of her beer.

"So why'd you decide to join the Brotherhood? You seemed to be able to do your bit alone." His reputation wasn't all just sex and fighting, after all.

"Something's got to be done." He said, nudging the chicken strips towards her and nursing his cigarette. "Piece of shit government's taking us down, and it's only a matter of time 'til that city explodes. You saw only a fraction of it. They're starting to talk, and Callisto's bitches are taking advantage of the tension. Like hell I'm going to let that whore climb on top of the shit pile." He grinned dangerously, a violent look in his eyes for a moment.

"Besides. I can't keep doing what I'm doing forever. Had to break out of it sometime right?" He sighed out a hail of smoke, and rolled his neck. Finishing his third beer, he sat back.

Ugh. Callisto. They'd come up against the Morlocks before. It hadn't been overly pleasant.

"Mmm. That's true." Of course, with the amount he smoked and drank, Gracie seriously doubted he'd be around forever. Could have worse habits, though.

She played with one of the chicken strips, shredding it and eating it bit by bit.

"Dunno, just doesn't seem like your thing, taking directions from anyone." If Pyro still looked the same... Well, she definitely couldn't see Lucas taking well to a skinny little runt like Sparks telling him what to do.

"Taking directions and making a deal are two different things. Pyro's not shit. It's his men that make him strong." He fixed a gaze on Gracie and didn't let up.

"It's the same with anyone who thinks they lead. They are, almost without exception, the weakest link in their chain. The ones that are dangerous are those that don't know it. Those that do are much easier to deal with. We'll have to see which side of the fence Pyro has landed on."

"At Alcatraz. A whole army of us bit the dust. Shit, the whole island went down. Who lived? Pyro." He lit one cigarette off the next. "A man finds himself wondering -why-."

Shrugging, Gracie drained her beer and looked at him. Wasn't the most important thing that someone had lived to bring the Brotherhood back?

"Only one of the Brotherhood died at Baltimore, from what I heard. Seems like Pyro's doing better than Magneto so far."

She really wasn't interested in the politics of leadership. She'd followed Dom because he was smart, knew what he was talking about, and because she sure as hell didn't want to be leading herself. As far as she was concerned, the same stood for Pyro. She wanted to help the cause, but she didn't want to be responsible for other people.

"Alcatraz... Seemed to me that you had to be lucky to survive that Jean Grey chick. They had the cure there, too - half those guys wouldn't have had a chance depowered."

Not to mention the X-Men fighting against them. What the hell was with those people?

"What you don't know about the situation is a lot," he sneered, and picked up his next beer, turning his eyes into the bar as he swallowed half of it down.

Baltimore was no Alcatraz. Pyro was no Magneto. If she wanted to play up to some stupid kid from the 'hood, then fine. It didn't mean he was going to follow suit.

"I answered your fucking question."

"Never said any different." She, at least, was willing to give Pyro the benefit of the doubt. As she saw it, they were crashing his party, so she wasn't going to go in there trying to start shit right off the bat.

Jesus christ, was he ever going to stop drinking?

"Got your fuckin' cranky pants on? Jesus." Calm the fuck down.

He looked at her, a violent thought crossing his face.

"The fuck is your problem?" Lucas shot back.

"What the fuck is your problem? I'm not the one getting all tense about Pyro."

Folding her arms over her chest, Gracie shook her head. Here was not the place to get into a shouting match about the Brotherhood. Too many people, too easy to draw attention to themselves.

"You're the one that came to us. No-one asked you to sign up, if you don't like it you don't have to fucking come."

She couldn't help but wish that it had just stayed her and Dom. Lucas messed with her head far too easily, it was... well, a little scary.

He leaned in a bit, his voice low but still a threat.

"I didn't say shit about Pyro. All I said is that I'm not aiming to go into it sucking his dick. If that's where you want to live, fine. You seem to have a good enough time attaching yourself to the biggest guy in the room. Damn good job of it too."

Standing, the back of the booth cracked with the motion, and he stomped to the bar, paying the tab. Heading out to the car, his duffel bag sat on the seat across from her, abandoned.

"Fuck you!" She called after him, drawing looks from the other patrons of the bar. Directing one of her glares at anyone that looked her way, it was all she could do to keep from biting the curious waitress that came back to collect the empties.

Standing, she was about to leave when the woman's voice called her back.

"Hey, wait, you forgot your..."

Gracie turned around to see Lucas' bag on the seat.

"Oh. Thanks." Well, there was no point in being rude - she'd much rather pick a fight with someone she wouldn't feel bad for hurting afterwards.

She tucked it under her arm, wondering how the fuck she was supposed to get back if he'd actually driven off already.

Thankfully, he hadn't. She found him outside, smoking - surprise, surprise. Taking the bag out from under her arm, she thrust it at his chest.

"You think that's all this is? Go fuck yourself, Lucas James. Go back to one of your whores."

Between forgetting the bag to the look on Gracie's face and the argument in general, Lucas snapped.

Grabbing Gracie's arm, he spun her around and shoved her against the car, her back hitting the car door with a loud crash. He towered over her, getting in her face.

"Don't talk to me like that woman. Keep your fucking voice down. This isn't your hood."

Opening the car door for her, he pushed her towards the seat. "Get in."

Very aware of her teeth, something in the back of his mind prayed she was too smart to use them. After all, she'd survived this long.

"Fuck you," she shot back her response.

"Let go of me, or I swear to god I will fucking bite you."

"What are you going to do girl. Walk back to the house?" He did let go of her, but kept himself between the sidewalk and the car, a hand up on the door blocking her way.

"Just because I called you on your game doesn't mean I'm not willing to play it. Don't worry, I know my place. I'll back off when the boss shows up. He'll be wanting his piece too I figure?"

"Get fucked."

He really wasn't helping the situation any.

"I'd rather walk than sit next to you."

Her jaw was clenching and unclenching, her eyes shooting hot anger at him. She could feel her heart beating faster, and she held onto her anger in a desperate attempt to not get upset.

"Is that what you want, Lucas? You want me to fuck everyone else so you can pretend I'm just another whore? Fuck you."

He almost growled in reaction to her cutting words. Taking a deep breath, he consciously took his hand off the car door before it was destroyed.

Far more calmly, as if making an earnest effort, he repeated himself. "Get in the god damned car. I'm not leaving you here."

She wondered how he was planning on making her, and she crossed her arms over her chest to shoot him yet another Look.

Her back hurt, from where he'd pushed her against the car, and her arm hurt, and the advil she'd taken was wearing off. Apparently Lucas James just took you to a world of hurt.

Lips parted to show just a hint of teeth.

Then, as if it had been her decision from the get go, Gracie sat down and pulled the door shut hard enough to slam.

She didn't speak. Her arms still crossed, she faced outwards, her face turned to consider a spot in the corner of the side window.

Trying to get his spinning head together, Luke's forehead thunked to the top of the car and for a moment he just stood there, seething.

He couldn't very well drive in a red rage and too buzzed to drive legally. But it looked as if that was what he was planning to do.

Walking around to the side of the car, he got in and sat heavily in the seat, turning the engine on. Setting the bag in the back seat, he said nothing, a black look on his face.

The tires screeched as he turned towards the freeway.

"You'll get pulled over." She still wasn't looking at him, but her tone clearly said, 'I hope, you asshole.'

Even she wouldn't have tried to drive after that many beers. Still, she wasn't about to do the caring partner thing and say, 'Don't you think I should drive, honey?' God, if she wasn't just as likely to be killed as him, she'd have egged him on.

"And I didn't look in your fucking manbag, by the way. Just so you're not paranoid about what I'm going to say about you after I fuck the boys."

What the fuck was his problem, anyway?

"What the fuck is your problem about the bag, Gracie? What's with calling it a 'man bag'?" It obviously irritated him further, but he did slow down, driving rather well for being half lit.

"Fuck..." He really had nothing more intelligent to say. He hadn't been this angry in years and it was taking all his strength not to just lose it. He didn't want to die today, and even though he hated her to her rotten whorish soul, he didn't want Gracie to either.

"You are SUCH a bitch..." he added brilliantly.

"Don't you fucking dare call me that." Her voice was low and not quite calm as she finally turned to look at him.

She meant Gracie, not bitch. He could call her whatever the fuck else he wanted, he wasn't allowed to call her Gracie.

"What the fuck is your problem about everything? Seemed fine when you were fucking me this morning."

The worst part of it was that right now, all she could think about was sinking her teeth into him while he sank something else entirely into her. What the fuck was he doing to her head? She felt, at that moment, that she loathed him with every fibre of her being... but she couldn't help wanting him at the same time.

His laugh was cold and sharp. "Oh. I see how it is. When I'm fucking you it's all, 'call me Gracie'. Now that I'm done making you cum, that no longer applies? FUCK."

Lucas hit the wrong gear as they got off the freeway and headed towards the house. The engine revved high for a moment and he cursed a blue streak getting it back into the right gear.

"Son of a bitch."

He went quiet for a few seconds as they pulled down the street. Right now, all he wanted was a good fight. But he couldn't hit anyone without killing them, and even if she was willing to slap him a few times to make up for saying the shit he'd said to her, she'd likely break her hand doing so.

Hitting the steering wheel, he managed to bend it a few inches.

"No, it's when you're not being a fucking asshole! Jesus fucking christ, Lucas."

It no longer applied because she'd apparently thought he was something that he clearly wasn't.

For a moment after they'd pulled up outside the house, she just sat there in silence.

"I've got shit to do."

She didn't know why she'd said it. What she did was none of his fucking business, and as far as she was concerned he could stay out here and stomp potholes all up the road until Pyro came to get them. Unfolding her arms, she put one hand on the door handle and looked at him sadly. Then, without saying anything, she pushed the door open and got out of the car.

He waited for a bit, unable really to move from his spot as she shot him a look and walked towards the house. He shut his eyes tightly, feeling his breath surge through his chest hot and too quick to calm him down. The thoughts spinning through his mind confused him. They came and went just as fast as his breath and he couldn't make sense of them this morning anyway... how could he be expected to understand them now.

So he got out of the car, walking quickly behind her. Standing nearly a foot taller than her it wasn't hard to catch up, and he grabbed her arm, pulling her to him until her back pressed to his chest.

Lucas gathered her arms up in his and locked them to her chest, his own out of reach of that dangerous mouth of hers. Closing his eyes, he prayed for the strength not to crush her in his anger.

"Gracie." He barely managed to say. "Stop." Setting his heel against the sidewalk, he prepared for a fight.

Was he like this with every girl? Honestly, she was surprised he hadn't gotten himself in trouble before now the way he seemed to just grab her whenever he felt like it.

God it felt good though. She refused to let herself lean up against him, but she didn't struggle either.

"What? What the fuck do you want, Lucas?"

She didn't sound angry. Though he couldn't see it, from where he was, she was still wearing the same sad expression she'd shown him in the car.

He held her there, turning a bit so that they were leaning against the garage wall together. Tipping his head back against it, he breathed hard. She smelled so good... even her sweat smelled like heaven. God damn her.

"Don't... walk away Gracie." Lucas grinned bitterly. "I love a good fight."

Holding her all the tighter, he bowed his head again, lips resting against her shoulder. He could smell the cheap detergent she washed her shirt in beneath the rising head from her body. What was so magical about her. Why was he willing to go so far to keep her from getting away.

"Tell me what an asshole I am."

She was reminded of a question he'd asked her the day before, when they'd been sitting by the pool.

'You're telling me you've never met anyone into that sort of thing?'

Her eyes narrowed for a moment. Was Lucas one of those pain freaks? Was he trying to piss her off? No, he could have just let her bite him if that was what he'd wanted.

"You know what an asshole you are, Lucas. Fuck, what do you want me to say? I hate you?"

"Hoping you'd get it out of your system. You seem pretty convinced you -should- hate me. I never did a thing to you that you didn't already deserve. Just remember that."

Carefully keeping her wrists locked with one big hand, he reached over and hit the keypad code to open the garage door and pulled her in, smacking the pad again to get the doors to close.

"You've been after me all morning. Poking at me, tossing bullshit at me, trying to get me riled up. What is it you're after?"

"Excuse me?" She deserved to be called a whore because of his paranoid bullshit?

"What the fuck are you on about, Lucas? You're the one that's been trying to rile me up since the moment we fucking met." Speaking down to her in the motel, the bullshit in the stripclub, all that crap about her liking girls and therefore being a complete whore...

"You want to let me go? I'm not going to fight you, Lucas. You get off on holding me helpless like this or something?"

He let out a short chuckle. "As if you're not."

Lucas let her go, and crossed his arms, looking at her with a smirk.

Turning, Gracie crossed her arms so that they were more comfortable than how he'd been holding them.

"So what, you want me to bend over and ignore all the shit you've said? Thinking you're hot doesn't change the fact that you're being a bastard." Her tongue ran over her fanglets for a moment, as if testing them.

"What do you even care, Lucas? Why'd you come after me looking for a fight when you could go out and get some," whore, "Other girl in a second, who wouldn't give you all the fucking hassles?"

"You're asking because you already know the answer Gracie." He nodded a little. "It's the same reason you're standing here, and why you haven't taken a bite out of me yet."

"If you're too afraid to say the shit yourself, don't lay that on me. You seem to want everyone else to make your decisions for you, and then you claim to be a big girl. You don't want to care if Pyro's going to get us all killed. You don't really care if Dom was about to lead you straight to the police because he wasn't thinking straight. You'll do what everyone else tells you to."

"It might seem that way, but I ain't that kind of man."

"I can make my own decisions, Lucas. You've got a problem because I trust people? Dom, Pyro - I've known them for a long time, and I sure as hell hope we've got some trust if my life is going to depend on them one day." You join a team like that, and it was entirely possible that would happen. She wasn't going to start undermining that trust just because Lucas had a fuckin' attitude problem.

"Don't go making assumptions about why I haven't taken a bite out of you yet, Lucas. Fuck, your ego is the size of Texas."

With good reason, but she wasn't going to say that when he was standing there talking down to her.

Lucas turned away from her, running his hand over his head. She was too stubborn. He'd done his best to show a different side of himself, and she wasn't aware in the slightest how far he'd gone to do what little he'd been able to. Trust? He'd tried to trust her. Enough just to show he wasn't the screaming asshole everyone seemed to think he was.

Turning back to her, he pointed at her. His voice was low, and almost softspoken. "You. Are content, to think that about me. Go ahead. You're just proving me right." There was a screwed up look on his face, something he was trying desperate to hide.

Reaching down to yank the garage door up, the opening mechanism groaned and snapped, the door flying up and crashing into its gate as he walked out towards the car again.

[recluse]

"Lucas."

Well, he certainly wasn't going to be in anyone's good books once they saw what he'd done to the house and the car. She barely registered the thought as she followed him.

"Lucas, don't."

She couldn't do anything to stop him, couldn't just grab him the way he grabbed her. Instead, she darted in front of him, between him and the car.

"Please..."

Gracie wasn't the type to talk about her feelings, didn't want to leave herself open like that. She didn't, no matter what he might think, like giving control of herself so entirely to another person, and she'd already let him have so much.

Lucas closed his eyes before she made it around to face him and stopped, taking a slow breath. Standing there for a moment, he reached into the inside pocket of his leather jacket and fished out his cigarettes, lighting one.

"Gracie tell me what I've done wrong here. I'm at a real fucking loss." He seemed to truly want to level with her, his frown less aggressive than intense, as if he were thinking in a way that was not usual for him. He wouldn't meet her eyes, and sighed, taking a long drag.

You've fucked with my head and I can't fix it.

She didn't say that. Instead, when she opened her mouth, her words might have seemed entirely unrelated.

"Do you know how hard it is for me to say I want you? Not like, I want to fuck you, but I want to be with you? It's a lot easier to trust someone with your life than it is to just... trust someone completely, Lucas."

Gracie wasn't looking at him, either.

"God, you're... incredible to me." Not exactly what she would have said if someone had asked her what her ideal partner would be, but that didn't mean shit. That she wanted him even when he was being a complete asshole to her...

Running her fingers through her hair, Recluse shook her head.

"Would you get rid of the cigarette and just fucking kiss me, already?"

Tossing the cigarette as soon as the request had left her lips, he pulled her into her arms- not yanked or grabbed her, but gathered her close to him- and pressed their lips together, his tongue finding hers and his fingers going into her hair.

It only took a moment long before he pulled his head back, wincing and turning his head away quickly. "MOTHER... fucker..." He kept one arm around her waist, running a hand over his mouth. His fingers smeared red with blood.

"Oh, shit." Gracie covered her mouth with one hand, tasting his blood and feeling a horrible guilt. She hadn't bit him, not on purpose, but her fanglets had obviously nicked him, so chances were that he'd gotten some venom.

That was going to hurt. Probably for a good few hours - hopefully he wouldn't have gotten enough to give him the necrosis that would make the pain last for months, but she couldn't be sure.

"I'm sorry, Lucas." Wincing in sympathy, though she honestly didn't know what it felt like since she was thankfully immune to her own venom, she grasped his chin gently in one hand and tried to turn him back to face her.

"Show me?"

In a way that made him seem a lot like a little boy, he sucked blood from the wound and turned his face back to her, wincing.

"Fucker..." He repeated softly. The cut was just to the left of center and clean from inside his mouth to the outside of his lip. Not too deep, but deep enough to sting from the touch of venom he received.

"Got a little... carried away," He said carefully around the wound. Reaching up to touch her hair, his thumb brushed her cheek. He couldn't get himself to say more. Even if he hadn't just sliced himself open on her fangs, he wouldn't have been able to.

She was braver than he was. And it earned her some respect in his eyes.

Well, it wasn't turning purple-black, which was a good sign. Generally, if they got much venom at all, the necrosis set in straight away. Which wouldn't have been pretty, on his lip like that.

Still holding his chin, Gracie smiled softly.

"I'm sorry..."

Ever so gently, she kissed his lip, not wanting to hurt him more than she already had.

Gracie had this way of undoing him that he was beginning to find more tiring to fight than to surrender to.

It showed on his eyes, a distinct softening that was still at its center that strong sort of masculine that defined him. He licked his lips again, the pain just barely registering as he touched his forehead to hers.

"It was my fault." So what if she'd been talking about his lip and he responded about something else entirely. At least he said it, right?

Slipping his arm around her waist, he held her for a moment. "Let's get inside before the neighbors call the cops." He chuckled.