[8730579] Queen of Prosecutors (queenprosecutor) wrote in siamese_quills, @ 2007-09-01 23:43:00 |
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Current mood: | accomplished |
BRING BACK THE PORN BITCH
Title: Chaos Theory
Fandom: Phoenix Wright
Summary: Sometimes life was good, sometimes it's bad. It's the combination of the two and the oddest things that make it life as we know it.
Genre: Humour, UST and a little bit of angst? (Hell it ain't romance!)
Pairing: Celeste/Matt, Juan/Celeste, Edgeworth/Mia (implied) aaaaand Gant/Celeste
Disclaimer: I ONLY WISH I WAS PART OF CAPCOM.
Author's Note: For Bring Back The Porn Day. OH GOD THIS IS LONG. And there's some things I should explain but I don't want to because I'm tired so if you really want to know, ask.
Nights were dreaded, predictable things. She’d tried - after finally convincing him to have sex with her in the first place - for two months to get him to have fun in bed (video cameras, handcuffs, blindfolds, you name it) but it was always ‘improper’.
Now she knew why the phrase ‘lie back and think of England’ existed.
Okay, so credit where it was due, he wasn’t bad in bed- he certainly knew where everything was- he was just so bori-- predictable. That was more accurate. She’d spend every night with her hands curled into the bedsheets, teeth gritted and finally beginning to forget she was in the missionary position when--
“I bet Engarde isn’t getting laid right now.”
And there it was- ruined. Sometimes Celeste just wanted to scream.
---
Celeste’s mornings were always busy, and this one even more so. Due to that lovely little incident at last week’s photoshoot she was now stuck in front of the district courthouse with an armful of paperwork, trying to get Global Studios to drop the charges against Juan.
With a black eye.
God, life sucked sometimes.
She manoeuvred the files in her arm to pull her phone from her skirt pocket as it began to ring. That lovely little tone that told her of work (Apocalypse, Please.)
“Yes?” Her glare becoming more pronounced as the damned lackey who neglected to find out who was on that set in the first place started telling her that her job was on the line for this one. “Put Mark on. ... No, no, I don’t care; put Mark on the damn phone!” Midway into a tirade at her senior at work (something that was finally going well today) the wind picked up, blowing the paperwork right out of her grasp and all over the pavement in front of the courthouse.
“Crap- Mark, I’ll call you back.” Yep. Life really sucked right now. The manager blew a strand of hair from her lips as she picked up various pieces of the paperwork, swearing under her breath.
“Well, well! If it isn’t little Ms. Inpax!” The cheery and familiar face of an old man smiled at her, eyes hidden behind rose-tinted glasses and clothes horrifyingly, blindingly orange. Just what one needed when it was already dreadfully sunny outside- luminous clothing. She squinted slightly, ignoring the dulling pain of the injury from trying to break up the fight that landed her here in the first place, to try and look at the person talking to her.
That’s when it clicked. Damon Gant. He was the only one who would ever call her such a silly nickname. Celeste pulled the last bunch of documents out of his hand and stood up, plastering a smile on her face. Damon Gant- an old friend of her father’s, always raving about the man’s restaurant and insisting that he should take him swimming.
“Mr. Gant- It’s a pleasure to see you again.” He was still smiling at her as he stood up, dusting his suit clean of invisible dirt with a leather-gloved hand. “How have you been?” Presumably he was here testifying on some matter- Celeste only knew him while he was a senior detective, before she’d left for university.
“You too, my dear! May I say, you’ve come to look a lot like your mother!” Celeste pulled the documents closer to her chest and tried to pass the flinch off as a sunblinded squint.
“Thank you, sir.” She wondered, briefly, if her father had told Mr. Gant what had happened to her mother. ‘Yeah, likely,’ her mind supplied in a sarcastic snort.
“Now, now, come Celeste-dear! You can call me Damon.” Inwardly, the manager breathed a sigh of relief- he hadn’t seemed to notice, and if he did he didn’t care.
“Ah- yes, Mr.-- Damon. How have you been?” It seemed to be an age before he replied, scrutinising her with a hard glare. ‘Creepy...’ she thought silently, trying to conceal the desire to shudder.
“Splendid, actually! Did you know they promoted me to Chief of Police?” He finally responded, clapping his gloved hands together happily.
“No- I didn’t. Congratulations.” She smiled- rather awkwardly- and stepped back into the shade of the courthouse, trying to win her sight back.
“I’m surprised your father didn’t tell you- just had dinner with the chap last week, actually.” Celeste felt her jaw tighten before she even realised she was doing it and nodded her head idly.
“Oh, right.”
“So- I hear you went off to become a manager to the stars. Is it going well?” Burying her feelings, Celeste thought back to her job, the one thing that kept her remotely happy- bossing people around.
“It is actually- I was with Global Studios until six months ago when I got a better offer with Worldwide Studios.” The general consensus was accurate- she didn’t see why he needed to know the details, and if she had her way no-one outside of the studios would ever, either.
“Well that’s dandy. I’m having brunch with little Worthy today- that’s Miles Edgeworth- perhaps you should join us.”
“I’m afraid I can’t, M-- Damon. I have to clear up a little assault charge today.” Little- little Worthy? Well, at least she wasn’t the only one who had to suffer the man’s nicknames- Paxy for her father, little Ms. Inpax for her- but it seemed she was now ‘Celeste-dear’. Oh. Great.
“Well- perhaps another time, then? Ah, there’s little Worthy now, excuse me Celeste-dear.” Without giving Celeste a chance to respond, the Chief of Police dashed off towards a man in a wine-coloured suit.
‘Impressive leap,’ she mused as the young man jumped off the wall that separated the field outside the courthouse with the car park, trying to seem collected as he scurried away from Gant. Celeste watched as the older man caught his target, clapping him on the shoulder firmly and her lips twitched in slight amusement as she checked her watch--
Dammit, and now she was going to be late.
---
Some nights, Celeste didn’t come home. Some nights, like tonight, were just preceded by too awful a day for her to go home.
She was weak, and hurt, and she couldn’t face a night of hearing that damn phrase right when she was beginning to enjoy sex. Besides... she owed him payback for this lovely black eye anyway.
It was fun to watch him squirm as she pressed leather into his throat and fucked his bucking, soon-to-be-if-she-didn’t-watch-it corpse.
“Hey, I bet Corrida didn’t get laid tonight.” Her grip tightened around the sex toy as the gasping-for-air form of her ex-boyfriend still managed to spit out that damn line and before she knew it, she’d struck the whip right across his chest with enough force to wind him again.
Before long she was the one on her back, struggling for dominance. For air.
Possibly for her life.
But that’s why she kept coming back.
---
“Have there been any cell phones handed in at all?” Celeste’s fingernails dug into the wooden desk of the police station as the lanky officer with black caterpillars for eyebrows shook his head.
“Not a one ma’am.” The scream built up in her throat and Celeste clamped her teeth on her tongue to resist letting it out, knuckles turning white as she gripped the desk.
“Meekins. I’m disappointed in you, boy. You’re hardly helping this young woman out.” The young man began to visibly quake in his boots as a leather-gloved hand clapped him on the back and sent him on his way.
“Chief Gant, if you have no further use for me, I’ll be lea--“ The young man in the wine-coloured suit was stopped before he could even move.
“Worthy, my boy, can you call this number?” Celeste spluttered as Gant pulled out a small business card- her business card- and handed it to Edgeworth. The prosecutor raised a brow but said nothing, dialling the number.
And her tone rang from nearby. The Chief of Police pulled open a drawer of the desk and handed her the ringing phone with a smile.
“Thank you... Damon.” He waved a gloved hand airily as she looked at the phone with complete relief washing over her.
“Just doing my job, dear. Now run along, both of you. And don’t forget you still owe me that dinner, little Ms. Inpax.” Celeste grimaced at the nickname but turned back around to nod and smile.
“Next week, perhaps? Call me.” ‘You have my business card... somehow,’ she added to herself. She glanced over at ‘little Worthy’ who was looking at her analytically. “What?”
“You know Chief Gant?” Celeste sighed to herself- maybe she did, a little.
“He knows my father.” It seemed that she’d just been spending too much time around the police and law lately.
“I see.” The young man headed to the car park and Celeste stood for a moment to watch him go with slight indignance before her lips curled in a smirk and she mouthed those little words.
“Goodbye...” ‘little Worthy.’ Smirk.
---
In the nights when Corrida had no energy to ‘procreate’ it was actually almost romantic. She would lie wrapped in his arms and listen to even, gentle breathing. It wasn’t like anything else that Celeste had experienced in her lifetime.
And in moments like this, she could remember why she’d fallen in love with him.
It was strange, the things that could happen from a scheme.
Sometimes, Celeste wondered if Juan had realised why she decided to manage him in the first place. She wondered if he’d realised that she’d planned every step of their relationship... until she started to fall in love with him. For all his faults, his obsession with Matt and countless other things that made her consider smacking him on numerous occasions, she did love him.
Hell if she knew why.
---
“So, yeah, we’re like... over and stuff.” Celeste could feel her stomach tighten and drop at the words and her fingers snapped the pencil she was holding in two. Matt was lounging back in a chair, running a hand through his hair idly as the leather of his racing jacket creaked against the leather of the chair.
“What.” It wasn’t a question- there was no point in questioning Matt; he was too simple-minded to be cryptic. It was a statement of disbelief.
“Yeah, I’m bored of you.” Matt kicked his legs over the chair and relaxed back, flicking his fringe from his face easily. The young woman snorted to herself as he revealed fresh scars across his eye. She’d given him those scars, just a few nights ago, in fact.
“Bored of me, or bored of never topping?” Celeste smirked a little as Matt rose from his chair and trapped her in her office chair.
“Oh, I can top you very well, would you like to test me?” Matt asked, grinning in that way he only seemed capable of while batshit crazy. Celeste laughed slightly to herself and leaned back in the swivelling chair.
“Actually I would, because I don’t recall this ever happening.”
It was later, after various straps had wrapped around her wrists and the legs of her desk in impossible knots and cut gashes in her skin that she realised she’d need to buy a new office chair now.
“We’re still over.”
“I’ll end you, Engarde.”
“I wouldn’t expect anything else.”
---
This day wasn’t anything- nothing positive or negative about it- and Celeste was really quite bored. Paperwork was awful and a chore that should be avoided at all costs...
And even that was beginning to look good.
The petite brunette groaned, grabbing fistfuls of perfectly curled, ponytailed hair in frustration as she leant against the desk. Was she really considering paperwork? There was definitely something wrong today. And nothing had gone wrong- no-one had screwed up a meeting, Juan and Matt hadn’t laid eyes on each other for a fortnight and it should be peaceful.
Some people just weren’t happy unless someone was miserable.
(Was she one of those people?)
The phone snapped her out of her frustrated stupor with the loud jangle of the Jammin’ Ninja theme song. It wasn’t her favourite song in the world- then again most children’s TV themes weren’t- she only used it for unrecognised phone numbers and because it was ‘good publicity’.
“Hello?” She blinked in surprise as a familiar voice responded down the line. Well, well, well... he’d remembered. (Was that a good thing?)
“Sorry it took so long to get back to you, Celeste-dear. Business and all that. Well- what do you say to tonight? Last minute, but I can get some reservations at a lovely little Japanese place downtown.” Celeste nodded as he told her the directions- it was a well-known place. Well... connections were helpful, after all.
“What do you say?” Celeste took one glance at the pile of papers and-
“Sure, Damon. I’ll meet you there.”
---
This night was fun. This night was dressing to the nines for fancy tricks of sushi chefs and idle banter which let her laugh like a little girl again. It was... too comfortable. Celeste was almost unnerved by that- by how easy it was to talk and complain about (work) things in between shots of sake and catching shiitake mushrooms between her teeth.
“Oh ho! You’re quite the talent, aren’t you?” There had been a quite entertaining scene where Damon himself had tried to catch one of the mushrooms- only to wind up with it square on his nose. Celeste smirked and pulled a cherry stalk from the sundae of the person next to her.
“E-excuse me! What are you--?” Evidently she wasn’t the best thief in the world as the man next to her-- in the wine coloured suit-- caught her for her crime, brown eyes flicking to the cherry stalk pinched between Celeste’s fingers and then to her, glaring slightly. Gant turned to the scene after ordering some sushi and looked positively delighted.
“Little Worthy! Well, isn’t this a surprise!” Celeste remained stock still with the badly-stolen cherry stalk halfway into her mouth and blinked, looking between the prosecutor and the police officer. Gant laughed in delight, breaking the silence that befell the trio.
“Why-“ (-are you always around me?) Edgeworth cut himself off before he could say anything he would regret and shook his head. “Good to see you, Chief Gant.” Gant leant forward on the family style table and seemed even more delighted.
“And Miss Fey! Splendid to see you (with little Worthy.)” The prosecutor flushed an admirable shade of red to match his suit and Fey offered a (rather awkward) smile to the Chief of Police and the manager.
“Chief Gant, it’s always a pleasure. And Miss...?” Celeste smiled back at the defense attorney and held her hand across the still slightly stunned prosecutor.
“Celeste Inpax. Nice to meet you, Miss Fey.” The two women smiled at each other briefly before a shout right next to the manager’s ear made her flinch and turn to the Chief. Another missed mushroom.
“Well, it seems the Chief lacks co-ordination in certain departments,” the lawyer muttered to the prosecutor as Celeste pulled the steaming mushroom from Gant’s cheek and dropped it in her mouth, grinning at the Chief of Police.
“Maybe he’s been drinking.”
“You think?”
“You’ve never been to a new year’s party.”
“Conceded.” Mia’s hand wrapped around her drink as she shook her head in defeat. It grew quiet around the foursome again after the short interlude of a fast paced debate between the lawyerly twosome.
Celeste’s fingers rested on the cherry stalk she’d stolen earlier and she rolled it about idly before picking it up again, turning her attentions from the table and to the other woman. “Oh, Miss Fey--“
“Please, call me Mia.”
“Alright. Do you know this trick?” Celeste held out the stalk that started this whole debacle and Mia’s face was overtaken by an almost devilish grin.
“Why yes,” she replied, plucking her own stalk from Edgeworth’s sundae, “I do.” Edgeworth, trapped between them, raised a slender brow almost imperceptibly while the Chief of Police looked on with fascination at the two girls. “First to finish...?” Celeste glanced at the sake cup beside her and decided on the condition.
“Gets the next five drinks on the loser- including their companion’s?”
“Okay.” On the count of san, ni, ichi-- generously provided by the table’s chef-- the two brunettes began their battle of speed and skill. A few seconds later the duel sound of cherry stalk knots spat onto the table marked the end of the battle.
“Aaand it’s a draw!” Gant leaned over, picking up both of the knots and scrutinising them thoroughly.
“I think ours was better, Worthy my boy. Pay up.” The young man’s brow rose again and he scoffed under his breath.
“I think not, Chief. There was no mention of how tight the knot had to be- they finished together.” The words rolled off Edgeworth’s tongue like an argument in court and Gant pulled out his own wallet.
“In that case- why don’t our lovely ladies kiss and call it over?” The older man suggested cheerfully. The two women spluttered and Edgeworth flushed red again before Gant found two handprints on his face to match the mushroom burns.
---
At night, things became that little bit tenser between the two lovebirds. Celeste slipped her earrings into her jewellery box, smelling like sake and food and giggling hopelessly.
“Was it really that good a night?” Juan muttered, stirring from his sleep with a drowsy glare as his girlfriend flopped onto the bed with a grin.
“Yes, actually.” Celeste collapsed onto her side of the bed, still in her cocktail dress and laced her arms together behind her head before she smiled to herself and tugged on Juan’s arm.
“I’m not in the mood.” Celeste gasped as Juan wrenched his arm from her and turned onto his side. The brunette pulled the covers over herself and turned on her side, staring at the wardrobe.
‘Maybe it’s a good thing he’s pissed off,’ she mused as her mind wandered to before.
---
“I- I think you’ve had too much to drink, Miles,” Mia suggested idly as the usually stoic prosecutor tried to pull her to his sports car while barely capable of walking in a straight line, his cravat pulled out of its usual neatness for ‘comfort’s sake’. The typically so feared demon prosecutor scowled as the defense attorney finally wound up alongside him and pulled the keys to the flashy red car from his fingers, holding them out of his reach.
“I only had one shot!” Miles protested weakly as he was dragged to the car by the more sober lawyer, a rushed goodbye shouted to Celeste and Gant as she pushed the young man to his car.
“You spiked it, didn’t you?” Celeste asked, looking up at the man next to her with a quirk playing at her lips. Gant sighed melodramatically and wrapped his arm around Celeste’s shoulders, pulling her into his body and ignoring the way she froze up for a moment.
“Dear Celeste, why would I do such a thing?” He asked airly, looking down at her with an expression that was anything but airy. It took all of Celeste’s slightly-intoxicated willpower not to shudder at that look- the same hard stare he’d fixed her with an occasion before (the occasion wherein this whole affair with the police department started) that made her feel like she was being forced to come forward with the truth.
It was that moment of drunken clarity that made her realise that the man she’d considered crazy when she was eighteen, and on occasion still considered him crazy now, was anything but crazy. This stare was (part of) the reason he was Chief of Police.
“Because it’s amusing?” Gant paused for a second, stopping her trek to the taxi queue as his grip froze her in place, that stare unbreakable brick in the atmosphere. He laughed slightly, nodding.
“Rather.” Inwardly, Celeste could finally relax, though the feel of Gant’s arm wrapped around her still left the squirming feel of discomfort running through her body.
“Ah, Damon, I think that’s my taxi and if I don--“ Reaching for her purse, Celeste tried to squirm from his grasp only to find herself pulled flush against the orange-clad man, their faces only a few inches apart and her lips open in wordless surprise. He was too close... too comfortable with being so close.
“Then, goodnight, Celeste-dear.”
---
This morning she was called to the police department personally during her break. Well, at least the set was nearby. Celeste checked the digital clock on her phone and flicked it shut with a sigh as the elevator dinged for the third floor. She shifted her weight a little, trying to quell the bubbling worry that manifested in the pit of her stomach.
“Miss Fey?” Celeste smiled as the young defense attorney made her way onto the elevator.
“Miss Fax! It’s Mia.” Shaking her head, Celeste laughed a little.
“I know- it’s just been a month. And it’s Inpax.” Mia made a small ‘hmm’ of agreement and shifted the extension strap on her bag as it began to drop off her shoulder. The elevator slid past a couple more floors as the two watched the dial change from number to number without a pause.
“What are you here for anyway?” Mia asked, tilting her head as she turned to the young manager with a curious look.
“I got a call.” Celeste answered shortly, staring back at Mia calmly, neither of them concentrating on the dial any more.
“Oh, you and Mr. Gant, right?” Celeste spluttered at the tone Mia’s voice took and shook her head, protesting vehemently.
“N-no! He was- is a friend of my father’s, and... no!” Celeste thought for a moment and composed herself. “What about you and ‘Worthy’?”
“Miles? I was just trying to get some information out of him.” The manager raised a brow and looked at the other woman sceptically. “Really--” she was cut off by the ding of the elevator as the door opened and a flustered detective entered in a whirl of trenchcoat and paperwork. “Ah, Detective Suedeshoes! I’ve been looking for you.” The flustered man pulled the messy pile of papers a little more securely in his arms and cleared his throat.
“M-Miss Fey. Of course! What do you need?” Followed by the small, shy mumble that it was Detective Gumshoe, not Suedeshoes. Celeste glanced between the two and excused herself as the elevator reached her floor, leaving the two to talk about autopsy reports and murder weapons.
“I’m on break, I hope this won’t take long...” she trailed off as the shock of Gant clapping her firmly on her shoulder made her breath hitch and he smiled a little too good-naturedly at her.
“Of course not. I just wanted to invite you swimming this weekend.” She fixed the older man who had his arm wrapped around her shoulders (the smell of his aftershave wafting incessantly by her nose) with a disbelieving stare, her stomach twisting into that familiar, uncomfortable knot as her mind wandered back to the last time he touched her this way.
“You couldn’t ask me on the phone?” He stared back at her- that same hard, intimidating stare that he fixed her with outside the courthouse- and Celeste felt herself shrink back a little under the gaze she was having trouble looking away from.
“I didn’t particularly want to.” Celeste noticed his arm was still wrapped around her and tried to duck out of it, swallowing slightly as the stare continued. History was repeating itself and it had barely been any time. ‘Get a grip, Celeste; you’ve dealt with worse than Damon...’
“Alright then. I’ll have to check my schedule.”
“Bring Juan along- I haven’t met him yet.” Celeste paused for a moment, finger pressed to her lower lip lightly before she nodded.
Why hadn’t she introduced Juan to Damon yet? Again her mind flashed back to only a month ago-
A flash of bodies pressed together, skin sensitive to every touch even through the clothing...
-Yes, that’s why.
---
“Mm, Juan...” Celeste shook the sleepy actor gently, propping herself up in their bed with her elbow as the thought finally struck her after five days. Juan blinked and groaned as he turned over, looking at his girlfriend through unfocused eyes, his hair tousled from sleep and she stroked it gently, idly pushing it back into something neater.
“What?” His voice was heavy with sleep, the question quiet in the silent room. Celeste paused for a moment, just watching him before she answered.
“You’re afraid of water, aren’t you?” Juan scowled childishly and crossed his arms over his chest, muttering a defensive ‘no’ in response. Celeste smiled in amusement and shook her head, loose brown curls falling over her shoulder.
“You told me you were- second date, I remember it.” Juan’s scowl deepened as he recalled actually saying it and he gave a roll of his eyes in response, silently admitting that she was right. Celeste sucked on her lower lip for a moment before she said anything more. “I’ve been invited to Damon’s place to go swimming.”
“Fine.”
---
Celeste couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a proper day off. Usually they were filled with paperwork and other such things that just made it- well... homework. And that was for school.
Today was... a day off. A real day off. The sun was out and Damon’s pool was as exquisite as that man had said. She wrapped the red towel a little tighter around her waist before sitting at the edge of the pool, dipping her feet into sunwarmed water. Gant was already under the water, tropical swimming shorts visible through the deflections of the sanitised fluid. Celeste sighed, content to idly kick her feet through the water, soaking them.
Suddenly the water was coursing into her mouth and fanning her hair out behind her as she found herself completely submerged in the pool, the guilty party having swam away before she could kick him in the face.
Celeste gasped for air, coughing out chlorinated water as she pushed it from her eyes with hard blinks, trying to scope out the man who’d forced her underwater.
Found you, Damon Gant.
She smirked at his decision in clothing, glad for the obviousness of the orange colour (and briefly she let her mind consider why it was always orange) as she sunk under the water again, her own swimsuit black and kin to shadow. A few moments later and she’d caught her prey...
But he’d caught her.
She swore in bubbles as his hand clapped around her wrist, her fingers laced around his ankle before they were wrenched off and she was dragged to the surface to stare into the gaze of a policeman.
“Now, now, Celeste, I’ve already done an underwater lap.” She could feel him close through the water, her arm frozen in the air and her wrist still trapped in the confines of his hand. The wisdom in her told her to stay quiet; the defiance wanted to speak and would.
“I think you could use another,” she replied with a cheeky smirk, like the schoolgirl to the teacher, part of her protesting to her mouth that this was a stupid idea and that part was right, Celeste knew it was right. She knew it when the intense stare became more and she found her bare back pressed against the cold white tiles of the pool’s edge, sending a shiver through her and pressing her into Gant’s body as he sandwiched her in place.
“Mr-- D- Damon...” Her free hand tried to lift from her side and push him back but he stopped her before it had even moved an inch. “What...?” She was almost never lost for words but now she couldn’t finish a sentence.
“No-one ever challenges me,” he answered, somewhat cryptically; his face closer than ever before, Celeste could feel the breath that batted off every word. “And I always get what I want.” The latter whispered into her ear before her body was relieved of the pressure, his hand sliding to her hip, gripping the ties of her bikini bottom.
It was loose and she didn’t even notice.
---
“Hey...
Hey!
Let’s get married.”
---
It had all been too peaceful- the announcement had gone well. Though Celeste was still slightly surprised that Juan had accepted her proposal- it was almost too radical to be something the young man would usually agree to. Too... different from society’s gender roles.
And it was that peace that probably resulted in this meeting.
“Engarde- what are you doing here?” Celeste drummed her pen against the desk of her office as Matt held out the bouquet and she fixed him with a withering look. “You have to be kidding me.”
“Ha... haha...” He discarded the flowers on the chair beside him and flicked his fringe back. “What are you doing, Celeste? Do you really want Juan to know?” She slid out of her chair and walked over to him, completely unamused by whatever he was.
“And why should he believe you?” The two actors spent all their time spying on each other anyway- Celeste would be more surprised if Juan didn’t know.
“Why shouldn’t he? You were always a whore.” Matt caught Celeste’s wrist as she tried to slap him, wrenching her close. The manager’s eyes narrowed as she stared her ex-boyfriend down and spat in his face.
“Fuck you.” Matt wiped the saliva from his cheek with his free hand and chuckled, soon dissolving into full-blown laughter.
“Better idea- how about I fuck you?”
---
“Did I look happy?”
“I don’t know- you were screaming his name pretty damned loudly!”
“Juan- dammit, would you listen to me?”
“Why the Hell should I?”
“Because it isn’t that simple!”
“Then make it simple!”
“I...”
“That’s what I thought. Forget this, we’re through.”
---
The engagement was over- they were over. Celeste wasn’t sure what she felt about this but those were the facts. They’d both left the condo in a blind fury, and she kicked the car into fourth gear as she turned the corner that led to the suburbs of the city- where all the rich dwellers lived.
Her eyes blurred everything and she wasn’t sure how she didn’t get in an accident. For a moment she thought she caught a glimpse of a familiar red sports car with a couple in it but it didn’t matter.
The mansion was as grand as the first time she visited, and as easy to find. Whether he was in or not... she’d find out in a moment. Switching off the car, she slid out of it and locked it, grateful that the night was cool and clear, no rain unlike the weeks before- hot days and rainy nights.
She knocked on the door- no hesitation, no mind to hesitate at all- and waited. Nothing. Her foot swung at the door, scuffing the oak slightly in frustration when the sound of footsteps made her head turn and her body crack with emotion.
“What did you mean?” She asked before he even got a chance to say hello- her voice cracking like her body was. Gant blinked, staring at her blindly. “When you said you always get what you want?” It was when it hurt too much to think, to feel. That was why Matt existed for her and now he couldn’t. Gant pulled his keys out of his pocket with an ever leather-gloved hand and opened his door, pushing her back slightly before he stared again from inside his mansion.
Celeste waited for a response- waiting, waiting ever waiting- until she couldn’t any more. ‘Fuck. This. Shit.’ In a second her hands were firmly against either side of the Chief of Police’s face, nails digging at his skin slightly and her lips, her body pressed against his, intruding into his personal space and home. She could feel the smirk of his lips against hers as the intrusion was invited, one covered hand pulling her in by her hip as the other shut the door blindly- a crash in their ears that didn’t disturb this new world.
Her fingers curled into his tie- the red tie, the cross tie with that gold cup (what was it?)- pulling at it until she found the clip under the collar and took it off, tossing it to the floor. His gloved hand tugged her hair out of its ponytail, letting her curls fall over her shoulders and down her back before Celeste found herself pressed against a door, the doorknob pressing into the small of her back.
His gloved hand opened her blazer with ease, shrugging it off her shoulders between kisses while they clamoured for air and each other’s lips like starving people for food. No words exchanged between them as various articles of dark and luminous clothing fell to the floor outside the door. Celeste’s hand reached back to the doorknob behind her, opening the door so they could stumble in drunk on whatever this was.
Necessity.
The smooth touch of cool leather slid up her thigh, folds of fabric from her skirt pushed up to her hips as the couch behind her made her lose her balance, taking him with her, fingers hooked under the waist of his trousers and his skin pressed against the turtleneck she always wore.
His lips came from hers first, both of them crying again for air as the couch secured the bunch of her miniskirt around her hips and his hands (finally) worked at pulling off her top, crimson revealing more creamy skin and black lace. Gant’s hands still remained gloved without an incentive to remove them as their path across her stomach was rewarded with a nice flurry of gasps. His hands went north and south in unison and slipped across the matching set of black lace, creating friction with delicate fabric in delicate areas.
“Nhh...” Celeste’s hips arched upwards, skirt falling over her stomach as her fingers shook while she finally removed the belt and dropped it on the floor where it made a soft sound that neither noticed. She didn’t look at him while his stare burned into her, down her neck and over the curve of her body, her fingers working blindly to slide the orange trousers and whatever underwear (she could feel the second layer but didn’t care enough to look at the moment) he was wearing over tanned and muscled thighs and down his legs, to be kicked away onto the floor.
A leather-covered finger hooked around her underwear (wet with anticipation) and tugged them off in a fluid movement to rest around her ankles and she kicked them off messily. His finger slid between her legs with minimal resistance as she soaked the leather involuntarily with her arousal. His stare moved back to her face as his leather fingers teased her questioningly to be greeted with a small murmur and a nod.
Whenever she hurt she would be in charge. But this was something altogether different- from the first moment he stared her down while pulling her close she knew it would be an impossible task. Celeste’s hand curled into the sofa’s fabric as leather caressed her from the inside, her other hand frozen on his hips, nails scratching lightly for a moment before it moved to stroke him with a confident stroke. Because even hurting, mindless, numb and shaking from everything, she knew how to make someone moan.
The rhythm was strange and random- fast slow quick quick slow- and she never knew when to expect it. (In retrospect, had she thought of it, it was just like him- she never knew when to expect him around.) Hers, controlled and methodical between raspy gasps for breath- it wasn’t asphyxiation, it wasn’t kink and yet...
It was something substantially erotic.
When he moved, she moved, sliding from under him to find that the hand that had been pressing against her nipples through the black lace was now in her hair, tugging her roughly... somewhere, her vision too blurred to notice where until she felt her chest shock against the cold of glass and night air.
The windows. Large, open windows that would filter in all light. His hand wrapped lightly around her throat and she almost laughed when he commanded her to remove her hand. Her palms splayed against the window, already fogged from the body heat as her forehead rested against it and she panted lightly while his fingers slid out of her, running up the side of her body and over the top of her chest, a liquid trail in their wake.
Her nails almost scratched against the glass as he took her by surprise, his mouth clamped on her bare shoulder and his white hair tickled the base of her neck lightly while the thrusts were nothing but friction as opposed to the sliding caress of leather inside of her. His grunts, moans and everything swallowed by her skin while the glass listened to hers. His hand again by her hips, holding another bit of clothing while the cold and his body kept her from falling to the floor with buckling knees. He licked his teeth free of metallic tasting crimson while he found air again and she pressed her body against the glass harder, craving the sanctuary of the icy air that lingered outside.
It was easy to tell when things were over. It became tighter, harder, faster- even more desperate than before. Her nails curled into the woodwork that cut across by her neck, segregating the panels of glass as his grip on her neck became harder, her need for air that more desperate. The glass shook as her cry mixed with his and her nail snapped while white paint flaked under it.
As soon as Gant pulled away Celeste collapsed to the floor, her legs too weak to support herself. He stared for a moment before walking off to the small pile of clothes by the couch, getting dressed before dropping her clothes by her and finally removing his gloves.
They needed cleaning. And perhaps while he was going to drop them off he could stop by the kitchen, Worthy sent him some lovely packets of tea.
---
“Cause of death?”
“Looks like a suicide.”
“Time?”
“Sometime this morning, Chief.”
As the police department dispersed around the condo and the coroner left to get some more equipment, Gant knelt down for a moment, studying the victim closely, a leather-gloved hand brushing ponytailed curls back out of her face before he straightened up.
Someone had to talk to Juan now, after all.