Sunday May 25th 2008
Who: Erin and Dante What: To Tussan! Where: Current Location: Roanoake, VA When: Sunday Rating: R for language
Fourteen hours on a fucking bike was holy hell. Especially when you had a prissy ice demon riding bitch who couldn't sit still and seemed to like feeling you up periodically. Well, okay, that part hadn't been hell, but the rest sure as fuck was. The girl looked like she was readying herself for a cross-country road trip with the girls. It annoyed Dante how fucking adorable Erin was, despite her total impracticality. She had a purple damn backpack for God's sake. Purple! Still, she was a trooper, he had to give her that. He had anticipated a lot more whining and grumbling, and she was keeping it to a minimum even though it was obvious that this lifestyle was totally not for her. It made him wonder what the hell she was doing here if she hated it so bad. The answer, of course, was him. She wanted to be with him. And reluctantly, he wanted her around too.
It was like a beacon from heaven when Dante spotted the Motel 6 sign lighting up the night. Ten o'clock at night and his ass was starting to feel numb. He pulled into the parking lot, highway hypnosis making him jet through the rows of cars a lot faster than was safe. He came to a startling halt right in front of the door, the two of them jostling. He was tired, but it would still be awhile before he went to bed. His phone had been vibrating all damn day. Shaking the tension from his shoulders, Dante twisted his torso to look back at Erin, eager to see the look on her face when she realized she'd have to sleep in this place.
Her expression was pretty much what he thought it would be. Upper glossy lip curled, eyebrow arched, and then she dipped her chin to peer over the rim of her shades at the suspicious looking torn blinds in each suite's window. Eugh.
Then, like she had each time they'd stopped, she bent down to grab her ankles, slowly, and stretched out her back. She hated sitting in one spot for so long, and sitting on a vibrating spot was less fun than one might think. Though feeling Dante up was fun, from time to time. When she unfurled like a pale cat she pushed her fingertips into the sore spot in the small of her back and heaved out a sigh.
"Is there not a hotel nearby? MO-tel? Really? It's so shady."
---
With a small smirk, Dante dismounted Jessica, patting between the handlebars as though assuring her she was a good girl. "What's the matter cupcake, afraid the mean old serial killer's gonna getcha?" It had been fun to tease her, but suddenly the smirk was gone from his lips. Erin had no idea just how close to her the serial killer would be sleeping tonight.
"Let's just get inside, I'm fuckin' tired," he snapped, moving over to the bag hanging on Jessica's hips and pulling out his shave kit.
---
She watched him grab his bag, which was next to her bag, and then stared between the purple pack and him expectantly. He was really going to just take his single bag and not grab hers?
---
Yes.
The expectant look was completely missed, as Dante was already walking off toward the motel. "You coming or what?" he asked shortly.
---
With a snort, she snatched her bag and swung it easily with one arm and demon strength.
Inside, her expression worsened. "Dear fuck," she said, picking up the orange -- orange, really? -- bed cover before retreating into the bathroom.
"FUCK!"
Spider.
"Dante. FUCK." Giant spider.
---
So far everything had been easy- checking in, finding the room, plopping down on the bed. Dante was totally ready to just rest awhile. Evidently, Erin had other ideas. Growling, he barely lifted his head to look in her direction. "What?" he gumbled, mainly to himself. Whatever it was, it was going to be stupid, he just knew it. She'd practically grimmaced at the bedspread, and it was just a damn bedspread.
Forcing himself to sit up, he turned to face the bathroom. "What the hell is your deal now?" he snapped.
---
Erin simply glared at him, shaking off his nasty tone -- it was becoming easier and easier to do so, with time, because she was quickly learning he really was just a grumpy bear -- and pointed to what was potentially the biggest arachnid since a very bad early 90's film. "That. Kill it. I'm not taking my shoes off in here because that means my bare feet will have to hit the bathroom floor."
---
That. What the hell was "that" supposed to mean? Getting to his feet, Dante stomped over, crossing his arms. A small spider was comfortably chilling out in the middle of the floor. "Are you fucking kidding me?" he said, staring her down like she was a mental patient. "It's a spider!" Goddamn what was wrong with females? Pam was exactly the same way. Fuckin loons, all of 'em. Slipping past Erin, Dante stepped into the bathroom and stomped on the poor unsuspecting thing with his boot. It went squish.
"Happy now?" he asked with a wave of his hands, tromping back into the main room and leaving a lovely little eight-legged corpse.
---
Erin curled a lip and growled a little at him, then went about washing her face and brushing her hair. In a few minutes she emerged, her hair loose and flowing all around her, tee shirt folded in her hand. Beneath she wore a small cami over a plain heather gray lace bra. If Dante's eyes were closed, she'd undress right there. Otherwise she went to make use of the "privacy partition" set up in the corner, away from the bay window. She had ONE sleep shirt, and she was going to use if there were sleeping in a motel.
---
Dante's eyes were, in fact, closed. He was laying on the bed still fully dressed, boots on and all, one arm laid over his eyes and his feet still on the floor. He was thinking, and trying not to think, and avoiding the phone in his pocket. It was Roger, he knew that much. Maybe Nox. He didn't want to talk to either of them.
"You goin' to bed?" he asked her, not moving just yet.
---
"Just getting out of my clothes to keep them as clean as possible," she replied, accent crisp. The mattress barely moved with her added weight. The brushing of her knee against his hip was more of an indication of her presence. She watched him for a moment, idly fingering long dark tresses, before speaking against softly. "Ignoring your mobile?" It meant phone. He knew this; he'd heard her translate before.
---
He sighed softly, almost inaudibly, as Erin's knee brushed him. "Hmm," he grunted shortly, which meant yes. She had heard him translate plenty of times before as well. As if on cue, the phone buzzed again in his pocket, making him sigh heavily. "Be back in a sec," he said, heaving himself up. Now he felt run down, since they'd come to rest and his body could relax a moment. Giving Erin a once-over glance and an approving half-nod, Dante stepped out of the room and into the hallway, shutting the door behind him.
---
The second the door shut, Erin crawled forward on her hands and knees to hover at the edge of the bed, ear cocked.
---
Out in the hallway, Dante leaned against the wall beside the motel door, staring down at his phone. Him. That was the number flashing. Rubbing his eyes, Dante pressed the green receive button. "Yeah," he mumbled.
"Where the fuck are you?"
"Ahm... Virginia."
"Why." Roger's voice was very clear through Dante's phone, much to Erin's luck. "What the hell is this note all about, what, fucking TUSSAN ARIZONA??"
"You don't wanna know."
"Like hell I don't!"
"No I mean... seriously, you do not want to know." Dante ran a hand back over his very short hair, then thumped his skull against the wall, looking up at the ceiling. Roger wasn't saying anything, a bad sign. "Roger?"
"You do an awful lot of shit you don't think I need to know about." The voice over the phone was icy, colder than anything Dante figured even Erin was capable of.
"It ain't like that. I just... it... fuck, man, don't do this." It was almost a plea, almost a whimper.
"And she's with you? So... she gets to know and I don't? So all this shit about how I'm more important than anything and how I matter is all fucking-"
"She don't know," Dante interrrupted. "And she ain't gonna know, and neither are you because it... just don't fucking ask, okay? It's my mess, I gotta clean it up."
"Fine. Fucking FINE. You only use me when you need me anyway so go DIE out there. Don't fucking come back."
There was silence on the line, silence Dante listened to for a moment, hoping that the line hadn't just gone dead. It had. Gripping the phone tight in his hand, Dante stood a moment before turning to go back into the room, his shoulders slumped more than when he'd stepped out.
---
The second the conversation ended Erin had thrown herself backward to "relax" on the mattress. The flopping motion had sent her hair cascading out from beneath her, tee shirt lifted a little to reveal perhaps the slightest bit of pink lace panties -- as promised -- stretched over a taught ass cheek. She had her eyes closed, but opened one as he returned, a little sleepily.
This was a bit of a conundrum. On the one hand, she was absolutely annoyed that Dante had no intention of telling her whatever it was she 'wasn't going to know.' Also, she couldn't really blame Dante for putting Roger before her. All things considered, if someone had to be before her, it should be Roger. No one else. She would accept that. It annoyed her, but she had to accept it.
Her stomach was tight. She wanted to chastise him for keeping secrets from her, for lying, and for possibly putting himself in danger. On the other hand... Roger had just told Dante to drop dead and not return. She wanted to offer a slight degree of comfort (even though she still believed she was terrible at doing so), but that would mean outing the fact she had been eavesdropping.
So, as a conciliatory means of hoping to find a happy medium between distracting him, comforting him, and changing the topic, she shifted her legs in a haphazard, false 'I'm half asleep' manner to show more thigh and ass. "Everything alright?" she purred, propping her head up on her elbow.
---
On a good day, Dante was a very good liar. On a bad day he was a shit liar and didn't give a fuck. Tonight was one of the latter. "Yeah, it's fine," he mumbled, making neither note nor comment of the perfectly lovely way Erin was splayed out on the queen size bed. "Just Roger bein' all... him." Dante didn't blame Roger for being mad. The 'go out there and die' part was a bit off-putting, but he didn't really blame him for that either. He didn't think he could tell him the truth, though.
Sitting on the edge of the mattress, Dante unlaced his boots and slipped them off, sitting leaned forward a moment with his forearms on his thighs. "I didn't tell him I was leavin'," he admitted at last. "Left a note this morning."
---
Erin wasn't surprised, so she didn't pretend to be so. She wasn't sure what to say, though, because being brutally honest was still something she was figuring out. So she just lifted a hand and began to rub between Dante's shoulder blades while he continued speaking, or if he didn't.
---
Really, the explaination explained itself. It'd be no small wonder Roger was pissed if Dante just disappeared that way. And Erin didn't need to know details. While Dante seemed to be ignoring her gesture of affection, actually he was relishing it, almost ready to purr. Sometimes he wondered how he'd managed to fall into a relationship, and more often he wondered how he'd managed to fall into a good one.
"I'm goin' to bed," he said abruptly, moving to crawl onto the bed, laying on his side to face away from Erin. Her affection was too much to deal with. It left him feeling guilty, an emotion he hated more than anything. He was still fully dressed, but he tucked a pillow under his head and lay facing the wall, staring at it.
---
There was a long enough pause between this action and her softly murmured "..Alright" to indicate she understood, and that she knew he was aware she was leaving him be on purpose. She rarely missed an opportunity to bank points; not when she could spend them later and be annoying if she wished.
Her hand, which had returned to her, adjusted what she hoped to be clean pillows before she curled up behind him. She didn't touch him again for a solid five minutes. Then, after the silence had stretched, she shifted just enough so that her thighs rested lazily against his denim clad rear. Spooning him? Maybe.
---
Dante both appreciated and hated the silence. He didn't want to delve deeper into things, and he knew that Erin could get him to talk to her because she was annoying like that. But being in quiet also meant that he had to think about things, about this trip and what it meant and how he was gonna get himself out of this mess. He had to think about Nox being angry with him because if he'd just let the guy check his background they'd have noticed a problem right off. He had to think about Roger, and what he'd said, and debate whether or not he meant it.
The feel of her legs bumping him jarred him from his thoughts. He looked back over his shoulder, frowning. "Don't think I dunno what you're doing," he warned her moodily. "I ain't gonna talk about it, don't wanna discuss feelings and crap, just... get over here." He reached back to grab Erin's delicate wrist, tugging her closer and draping her arm over his midriff. He didn't want to just come out and say 'cuddle me', but clearly that's what he was going for.
---
She let out a breathy chuckle and lifted one leg to slide it over his hips, gripping him with a long pale limb before her arm tightened. She scritched affectionately at his chest, toying with the collar of his tee shirt before her palm lay flat, atop his not-so-life-like heart. "I'm not doing aaaaanything," she protested with a velvety, playful voice, her smirk audible from behind his head.
Suddenly her hand moved from his chest to reach up and squeeze his chin, giving it a little tug before her fingers went back to his heart. It was becoming an infrequent thing for her, to do these tiny playful things that made he seem almost human.
Hopefully he wouldn't mention it.
---
The little things that Erin did were annoying as fuck. She liked touching him, fiddling with him, getting all in his personal space and being a general nuisance. Dante would have told her to knock it off, but... well he was tired. And being irritated at her would have used up too much energy. Yeah.
So he put up with her for now, actually settled back against her as they lay there. He was smirking against his will, since she was being all affectionate and cute and crap. And she smelled pretty good. He smelled like sweat and dirt and motorcycle oil and whatnot, and she had been in the same damn circumstance all damn day and she smelled like woman and flowers. Bitch.
Quiet for a moment, Dante stroked Erin's arm with his fingertips, just staying in silence. "If I, erm... dream about shit tonight," he said softly, because he didn't want to say "nightmares" and sound like a baby, "you can wake me up so I shut up. Don't wanna keep you up, I know you're prob'ly tired."
---
The ice demon gave Dante a reassuring sardonic pat on his abdomen. "Oh, don't worry, I'm not losing sleep after eight hours on a bike." Which translated to 'Don't worry, I'm looking out for you,' and Dante hopefully knew it. She didn't want to have to say it. She wouldn't.
She shifted a little and pressed her front to his back, closing her eyes. He smelled good. Dirty, but... she was beginning to like it.