Christian Grey (heartsnflowers) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2014-05-19 14:21:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, alyssa hamilton, christian grey, gaz membrane |
Who: Christian Grey and Gaz Membrane, with a bit of Alyssa Hamilton
What: Gaz decides to play Santa Claus
When: 5/17
Where: Christian's office and the car park of said office
Rating/Warnings: PG for Gaz. Just Gaz.
Status: Complete
Christian had had an interesting few days. He’d finished the paperwork for the Membrane woman, consoled Alyssa through an encounter with ghosts, and had vaguely guilty thoughts about the new lady in the domestic accounts section. Gaz was due today at some point, but he’d told her to take her time. He rather enjoyed how slow it was.
Eventually, Gaz did come. She had papers to turn in anyway, and she glared at someone who started to whistle at how short her skirt was. Yes, she was wearing a short skirt with stockings, no, it wasn’t for them. She sent a bit of fear the man’s way, smirking when he stumbled into his office.
Christian heard the knock on his door, and called, “Come in?” figuring it would be Gaz. She was one of the few who just knocked. His secretary had complained, but he’d figured Gaz was a mate and she was worth more than most countries, so she could do what she pleased.
When she heard him, Gaz came inside, shutting the door behind her. “Your secretary doesn’t like me. But I don’t like being around her when she makes cow eyes at you, so it’s even.” Gaz smirked and sat down across from him before sliding over the signed papers.
Christian sighed. “I had thought I was imagining things.” He hadn’t wanted to ask any of his coworkers if he was imagining things, though; it seemed a bit rude to go ‘does my secretary fancy me?’ without proof.
He took the papers. “Thank you for getting these back. You didn’t have to take time and come down here yourself.”
“Eh, I had to talk to your bosses anyway.” Gaz crossed her legs and leaned forward. “I told them we’re friends, and I was getting you a present ‘cause you’re awesome. Showed ‘em your work, so they know it’s legit and that I’m not thanking you for a tax shelter or something.” She was pretty sure that Christian would normally have to say no, but if it came to losing Gaz’s account, they’d hand her Christian’s balls on a silver platter if that was what she wanted.
Christian blinked. “Oh? Well, I’m certainly grateful.” He was actually a bit embarrassed, but he didn’t want to be rude to her, or make it a big deal. She was a good sort, and he didn’t want to piss her off, either on a personal or professional level.
She shrugged. “Eh, it wasn’t a big deal. I just don’t have many.” She meant friends, and knew he’d know what she meant since he was the same way. “And I can afford it.”
“Well, it’s still kind of you.” Christian left it at that. “Let me just look at the papers quickly, so if there is something up, you don’t have to make another trip.” It made sense to him to still think about her time as a client, even if he considered her a friend.
She nodded, sitting back and pulling out her phone to check Twitter while he worked. She had another review in a Parisian art mag, and she emailed it to Erik to see if he could translate it for her.
Christian skimmed the papers, bit by bit. Eventually he nodded. “Everything appears to be in order, honestly. Once we get this notarized, and we can do that later today, all we’ll need to do is open a bank account somewhere and you can write cheques for whatever donations you want to make.”
“Cool. And then you’ll just keep track and keep me updated on shit, right?” Gaz looked up from her phone.
“If you’d like me to, yes, sure. We can put me as one of the trustees, so I have access to the records but not the money.” Christian had made damned sure that there were only two people who’d be able to access the trust account - Gaz herself, and her husband.
That made Gaz smile, and she put her phone away. “Cool. So, I’m not bribing you or anything and your bosses said I could give you the thing.” She was being obtuse on purpose; Gaz loved surprising people.
“All right.” It was rather amusing, how pleased she seemed, but he didn’t want to ruin it. He got the impression she didn’t smile very often. “I’ll just write myself a note to add me to the trustee board, but you don’t have to do anything for that. I’m allowed to handle it on my own as long as I’m not being compensated for it, and I’m not being compensated for that.” He knew he wouldn’t have to explain again, and it made him appreciate her more.
Gaz stood up. “Well, come on. I told them you’re meeting with me the rest of the day, so you don’t have to worry about anything else you were doing.” Hell, Gaz sometimes thought about paying the guy twice his salary to retain him herself. He seemed nice, he didn’t deserve to have a dickhole boss.
“That certainly works for me.” Christian grinned. “What did you have in mind? You know I’m happy to help you.” They got along well. She seemed to respect him and he definitely appreciated her lack of bullshit.
“I don’t need help, I just figured you’d want to play with your present. So I’m kind of your pimp today.” She couldn’t help but grin broadly. “Don’t worry, I’m nice.” Her smile was entirely too feral for anyone to ever believe that. “But seriously, come on.” She walked out of his office and toward the stairs. His secretary started to stand up, and Gaz glared at her. “Business lunch.”
“It’s all right,” Christian told his secretary, locking up the office before following Gaz. He’d encountered scarier women - in bed, no less - so she didn’t really frighten him.
That was because she wasn’t trying to scare him, and she liked him. Gaz liked that she could make grown men piss themselves with a look. Hell, it was a skill she practiced.
Plopping down on a bench near the car park, Gaz sat crosslegged , panty flash be damned, and lit a cigarette.
Christian sat on the other side of the bench, enjoying stretching out, though it was still too damned warm for him. He studiously ignored the way she sat, looking around. He could see the cars in the car park; the sun glaring through the half-wall. He squinted. “You might have to pardon me a moment; someone seems to have parked in my spot.” He’d gotten a lift from Alyssa that morning, so his BMW was still at home.
Gaz’s smirk only came out when he stood up to examine the car. The panty flash had done its job; he’d ignored it on purpose and looked at the parking lot. She swung her legs innocently.
Christian went into the car park and headed for his spot, though his eyebrows shot up when he saw the car in his space. It was an Aston Martin Vanquish, one of the newer models, in a deep blue. The interior was black with a matching blue stitching. “Wow,” he said aloud. He’d have to ask whichever of his coworkers owned this thing where they got it. It was stunning, and he’d always been a James Bond fanboy to begin with.
He came back out to find Gaz. “Sorry; I admit I did a bit of looking. That car is bloody gorgeous.”
“Good.” She reached into her purse and tossed him a set of keys. “I’m gonna go home now, but you’re being billed for the rest of your shift. I swear to god, if you do work for anyone else, I’ll kill you. Go for a drive.” She walked over to her own mode of transportation, a restored 1946 Indian Cheif motorcycle.
Christian caught the keys on simple reaction time, but stared at her dumbly afterward. His ears had seemed to shut down. “I ... pardon me?”
She swung her leg over her bike and tied her hair up into a high ponytail. “There’s a full tank of gas. I paid all the taxes and shit too, so you should be okay.”
It took him some time to process that. She wasn’t bribing him; the work was done. She wasn’t trying to get anything from him. The only possible explanation was that she was doing it as a simple gift. Mate to mate.
He eventually just laughed. “Thank you. I’m grateful.” He owned a fucking Aston Martin!
“I have a fuckload of money, I should spend it doing awesome things.” She kickstarted her bike and shot him a grin. “Have fun.”
“I can do that.” Christian was grinning like a particularly vapid schoolboy, and didn’t care for once. Alyssa would piss herself.
Gaz biked away with a wave, feeling ... pleased. It was odd. Friends were weird, man.
He called Alyssa, hoping she’d pick up. Now.
Alyssa picked up on the second ring, still reading her book as she lay on her bed. “Hello, Christian. Is work all right?”
“Can you come down? I want to show you why I don’t need a lift home tonight.” His voice was damned near giddy, and he tried to calm it down.
“All right. Did they give you a corporate car?” She was speaking as she splashed the door with water, showing up outside of Christian’s office. “Where are you?”
“Down in the car park.” Christian took a breath, actually giggling. “Sorry, I’m a git.”
“Dear god, you ... giggled.” Instead of walking to the car park, she chose the fastest route of teleporting herself there. Squinting when she approached him, she beamed at how happy he was. “Look at you, you’re chuffed to bits. What happened?”
Christian just pointed. The Aston Martin badge was clearly visible on the back of the car. “It’s ... mine.”
Alyssa just gaped. She looked to the car, then back to Christian. “I - what? Did the car fairy visit? I want one!”
“Gaz. My client.” Christian was still grinning. “After I finished her work, she ... invited me for a business lunch, and came down here. Saw it was in my spot. She threw me the keys.” He held them up, laughing.
“If she wasn’t married and totally not attracted to you, I’d be really upset right now.” Alyssa was grinning, so pleased for Christian she bounced on her heels.
“Fair, but ... yes, erm. Not my type.” At all. And Christian was fairly sure Gaz had no interest in anyone who looked like him. “Just ... good merry hell, I am ... gobsmacked.”
“You two are too similar to get on that way, I think.” Alyssa smiled, then wrapped her arms around Christian’s neck. “How’d she know your James Bond hard-on?”
“I have a DB5 model on my desk, you know that. She probably noticed.” Christian smiled a little. A young Sean Connery was probably the one bloke he’d make out with, and Alyssa knew that. He did have to smirk, though. “That expression sounds mad, in your accent.”
“I could’ve said erection, but you’d have mocked me for being posh.” Alyssa tossed her hair, looking back at the car. A sad realization dawned upon her, a terribly practical one. “You do know I can’t go down on you in your new toy, yeah?”
“Why not?” Christian blinked. Road head in an Aston Martin had to be some kind of hedonistic bingo.
“Think about it, luv. If you wreck that thing, you’ll never forgive yourself. Nor your better half.” Alyssa gave Christian’s groin a pointed stare.
He realized, after a terrifying vision of crashing this thing, that she was right. “Cock. I hate when you’re right.”
“You do this time, I have no idea how much repairs would be on that thing. Can you even insure it?” Alyssa winced.
“Gaz did.” Christian laughed. “I sound kept, don’t I?”
“She’s insuring it for you? Yes, you bloody sound kept. If she offers you a job, take it. Maybe she can keep me too.” Alyssa all but tugged on Christian’s arm. “Let’s go for a ride. We can get In N’ Out!”
“I just might. Wait, In N’ Out? The burger chain?” Christian couldn’t help but wrinkle his nose. “In an Aston Martin?” Fuck, he’d have to sell his BMW.
“They’re good!” Alyssa stuck out her tongue. “We can go elsewhere if you’d like, but if you’re in California, you’re sort of expected to eat there at least once.”
“I suppose we can. But God help you if I find one smear on the bloody leather; I haven’t even driven it yet.” Christian was only half joking.
“We’re not going to eat it in the car, you prat.” Alyssa rolled her eyes. “There’s benches and parks. Or, we could drive and eat after.”
“I’m not being a prat.” Christian made a face, but nothing could rein in his good humor for very long. “Come on, then.”
She wrapped her arms around his waist, kissing his shoulder. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”
“You know what I’ve got.” Christian kissed her back, unlocking the door. God, he was almost scared to sit in it, but eventually he overcame it and eased into the driver’s side - which was on the correct side, incidentally. “Oh, God, I’m so bloody happy.”
Alyssa cackled. “She even got you a UK model. I could kiss her m’self.”
He started the car, closing his eyes in something approaching orgasm when the engine purred. “That’s stunning.”
She’d have laughed at him, but Alyssa couldn’t. She understood his joy. “That’s ... beautiful.”
Christian hadn’t felt that way in a long time. If possibly ever. But Gaz wouldn’t understand, so he had to tell Alyssa. “I know it’s just a thing,” he said, almost shy, almost vulnerable. “But it’s ... I’ve done something good.” For someone to give him this, it meant he was valued.
Alyssa leaned over to kiss him gently. “Oh, Christian. You always do well.”
“I don’t always feel that way.” He took a breath, collecting himself. “Let’s be off.”