|posted on 19-Sep-2002 2:59:35 PM|
|Title: Sweet Rosalyn|
Disclaimer: Roswell is not mine, and neither is Zan. (Damn it!) I guess Roz and Joss are kinda mine, because I made them up, and so is Philly, and Ronna, and Charlie, they’re all mine because they’re not like anyone on the show...
Rating: May get up to NC-17
Summary: Zan meets somebody...
Author's Note: Roz is Liz's dupe, Joss is Maria's, description/attitude wise respectively, but it's not like how Zan is. There is no alienness about them. (Sorry if that was confusing, I don't know how else to say it.) And I'm posting this fic on the Zanatiks board as The Subway under my old screenname, so if it looks familiar to you, that's why. It will not take away from any of my other fics as this one is almost done.
Zan finished scarfing down the hotdog he and Rath had managed to scam off the vendor on the corner, and then unceremoniously wiped his hands on the back of Rath's shirt.
"Yo, Duke!" Rath exclaimed, pulling away, "Use ya own."
He smirked, "An' get my new vest dirty? Ain't no way." He hefted his backpack higher up, the food they'd managed to snatch, inside of it. It would have to last them til the end of the week, he figured. By then he'd have money to actually buy some.
"We should go clubbin' t'night," Rath said as they descended the steps into the subway, "Lonnie scoped out that new joint, Haze, las' night. She says it cool."
"Why da hell not?"
"Work?" Rath paused and turned to his leader, "Since when d'ya work?!"
"Since yesta'day. Gotta job tendin'."
"Yous too young ta tend."
"Yeah, but dey's don't know dat."
A low chuckle came from the mohawked freak next to him. "Yous da man, Zan."
"I knows." He glanced at him from the corner of his eye. "Don't yous and Lonnie fa'get it either."
Rath stopped, his stormy brown eyes met Zan's. "Yo, man, Lonnie din't mean nothin'. She jus' trippin', 'cause ya ain't listnin' ta her."
"I'm da King, Numba Two, not my sis, and da bitch had gotta start respectin' dat." Rath didn't reply.
They were moving deftly between the people waiting for the subway train, heading toward the blocked off route that led to their home.
"Hey, Duke, check out the Cat."
Zan looked up and another smirk crossed his face. The girl was standing at a platform, patiently waiting for the next train. And she was, as Rath had said, the definition of a Catholic schoolgirl.
Shiny black Mary Janes graced tiny feet, white knee-highs slithered up slender legs. She was wearing a fairly short, pleated, gray plaid skirt, white undershirt, and a gray cardigan sweater. Brown hair was pulled back into a severe bun, leaving her face bare beneath the black glasses.
Zan was surprised to see that she was cute. More than cute even, she had the potential to be labeled HOT! "What say wes has ourselves a little fun?"
"Wit'cha Duke," Rath sniggered.
The parts do get longer as I go on. Please leave feedback!
[ edited 7 time(s), last at 11-Nov-2002 8:03:58 PM ]
|posted on 21-Sep-2002 4:17:07 PM|
Rosalyn Braver glanced at her watch. She still had five more minutes until her train arrived. She looked down for the millionth time, checking to make sure her bag was still there.
She hated riding the subway, especially in the City. She could never tell who was mugger, or if someone was going to hijack the train, or what. She couldn't believe her father hadn't driven her all the way back to school, just because an important client had suddenly shown up at his firm.
So here she was, waiting. Alone and unprotected in the bowels of New York City, surrounded by monotone business people, the homeless, street punks, and graffiti. What a way to spend an afternoon.
"Nice duds, Mary."
She looked up, and found herself staring in disgusted fascination. The young man in front of her was pierced, tattooed, and mohawk-mulleted, not to mention the fact that he was wearing dirty clothes. She just stared, open-mouthed, as he smirked at her.
She felt herself turn red with anger. "Are you addressing me?" she demanded.
"Ya see anybody else 'round here in a short skirt?"
She blinked. "What?"
An arm suddenly slid around her shoulders, and a husky laugh was breathed against her ear, the warm breath making her shiver. "Doan mind 'im, he's a punk."
She turned her head, and backed out of the slightly intimate embrace. The owner of the voice was staring at her with twinkling honey brown eyes. She thought distractedly that she had never seen eyes that color before.
Roz tucked a piece of brown hair, that had somehow managed to escape the tight confines of her bun, back behind her ear, and slid her glasses up, so that they fit snugly on the bridge of her nose, and then studied the man in front of her.
She had to admit that he was just as intimidating to look at as the first one, with the leather, piercings, and tattoos and all, but he was cleaner, and she didn't find him at all frightening.
"Mary?" he asked, smirking down at her.
"I think you have me confused with someone else," she stated, flustered, "My name isn't Mary."
He laughed again, and she felt the heat in it go all the way through her, making her skin tingle with awareness. "I knows that, sweets, we’s jus' playin' wit'cha."
"What?" she asked, confused now more than ever.
Someone snorted behind her and she spun to see the other guy. She had forgotten him. "Some Cat," he said, eyeing her.
"What?" she asked again, not understanding this code they were talking in.
"Chill, sweets, we's outta here," the one she liked said. She just looked at him and then back at the mohawked one.
"Bye, Mary," and the first one walked away, turning his back on the two of them. She spun back to the second one, who was regarding her with those laughing eyes.
The train suddenly came whizzing by, doors halting and opening in front of her. People streamed out, and for a few instants, she lost sight of him. When the crowd suddenly cleared, he was right in front of her, holding her bag. She was about to cry out in alarm, when he held it out.
"Yous gotta be more careful 'bout ya stuff, someone could jus' snatch it out from unda ya."
"Thank you," she said sheepishly, taking it from him. His faced cleared for a moment and he smiled at her, and something speared her to her core. She gasped, staring at him, mesmerized.
He reached out and took her ponytail holder. Her brown hair cascaded around her face and he sighed. "Tha's betta. Now, go on, ya gonna miss ya train if ya wait here much longer Mary."
She made a frustrated noise, "I don't understand what that means!"
Again he laughed at her, "You's Catholic, ya'll figure it out. And if ya want to remedy the situation, I'll be around." He smirked once more and walked away, in the direction the first boy had gone.
She stared after him for a few moments more, before getting on the train, the doors shutting behind her. What did he mean by that last remark?
Please leave feedback.
|posted on 22-Sep-2002 2:13:39 PM|
|WhosYrDaddy: I just posted a new part on the Zanatiks board!|
Roz had just finished unpacking her meager belongings into the small closet allotted to her and her roommate. The closet was filed to the max with school uniforms and Joss's "party" clothes. Her own conservative outfits, which she wore on her brief stints of freedom, were either kept at her parents' homes, neatly placed in the small dresser between the beds, or hung on her side of the closet.
She sighed and bounced onto her bed. Taking up a book hidden in a corner of the dresser, she snuggled down, content with the peace around her for the moment.
Normally, Roz's life was one continuous noise fest, from her parents, to Joss, to the nuns, and, of course, the subway.
Her thoughts drifted back to the guy. What did he mean ‘Mary’? She didn't get it. She tilted her head back and stared at the blown-up picture of Michelangelo's Pieta on the wall. She found it so awe filling, and so calming. The Virgin Mary and Jesus...
Oh. MARY. Virgin Mary. She got it now.
A blush stole over her cheeks and she groaned at the meaning of their teasing. Those immature jerks! Still, she couldn't help but wonder; Am I that obvious?
So she was a virgin. That was nothing to be ashamed off, she was proud of the fact that she practiced self-restraint. Of course, there weren't that many guys around...
In fact, the only teenage male she had ever got to know was Charles Schneider, but he had moved to Albany last year. She missed him, even though he had only been a summer friend, Charlie was her best friend after Joss. He had offered to be more than friends on a few occasions, but she had declined. She didn't feel that way about him.
But, he had been the only guy to ever show romantic intentions toward her, until today...If you could call the amber-eyed guy's intentions "romantic"...
Startled from her thoughts, Roz looked up quickly, smiling at the intruder. A suitcase went sailing across the room, landing with a bang against the wall. Roz's smile widened, knowing the contents of the carrying case wouldn't see the light of day for another couple of months.
Josselin McLeeyn plopped down beside her on the plain bed. Her best friend was considered the class "rebel", Joss claimed it wasn't her fault that she inherited her da's Irishman temper as well as his red hair, it was the work of God.
That normally shut the sisters up.
"So, what do you think?" She bounced up again and twirled around. Roz sighed, marked her place, and studied her friend's attire.
Black Mary Janes, and the required plaid gray skirt were in place, but she had spiced up the rest. A sleeveless, man's button-down, collared shirt underneath a gray, short-sleeved, rabbit hair sweater, and her knees highs were soft gray cotton with black and white cows printed on them.
"Cute," she commented, "Very subtle."
"That's what I was going for, nothing too outrageous, but borderline scandalous." Her green eyes were sparkling with laughter. "You should join in the fun, Roz, we could become St. Cecilia's School for Young Women's Sensational Style Duo!"
Roz smiled at her some more and nodded. One should never provoke a crazy person. Suddenly Joss turned serious and sat down beside her again. Roz was used to her constantly shifting moods and accommodated them nicely, which was why they were such good roomies as well as friends.
"How was Hanukkah?"
"Fine," she said, sighing, "Mom and Dad got into a big argument about who was getting me what, but that's usual."
"Rosalyn, my lovey, if I got half as many presents as you during the holidays, I wouldn't mind the fight."
"I know, it's just...the divorce was supposed to take care of the fighting, but they still do it as much as they used to living together. I mean, the only reason Mom let me stay with dad for Hanukkah was because he was going to plead to the court that I wasn't given ample opportunity to discover his religion. I mean, he barely even practices Judaism, but...This whole thing is ridiculous!" she exclaimed.
"Yeah, I mean, you've been here since you were twelve. What would be the point of taking you out now, during your last year?"
"Victory point for the father figure," she replied glumly.
A sharp rap on the door, and both girls were up and standing at attention. Sister Mary Agnes stood in the doorway. She swept them a cursory glance, raising her eyebrows at Joss's socks, and then around the room. Clearing her throat, she said gruffly, "I expect you to pick up your things properly, Ms. McLeeyn."
"And wash that paint off you face."
"Evening Mass starts at seven o'clock, will you be attending?"
"Yes, Sister," they chorused. She gave them a curt nod and left.
Roz looked at Joss, who was walking into the bathroom they shared, and sighed, "And so it begins."
"Yeah," Joss said cheerfully as the water began running. When she came back out, her face was make-up free and freckled. She was wearing what Roz identified as her "philosophical face".
"Just remember, it's the last semester and then we're home free."
Please leave me feedback! (pretty please? With Zan and a cherry on top?)
|posted on 23-Sep-2002 8:34:44 PM|
Zan hoisted himself onto the bar and leaned back against one of the square wooden poles holding the building up. "Three hundred dollas," he said, whistling appreciatively.
His boss snorted, "And last night wasn't even busy." Philip Delphe was from Philadelphia, "born and bred" he said, he had moved here and that was the end of it. Zan didn't ask any questions. He figured if Philly wanted to forget his past it was his biz.
"Can't wait 'til it is," he said, "I musta got twenty phone numbas t'night."
"Just wait until the married women come in from a long day of hard work, you gotta watch your back around them, kid."
"I ain't no kid," he protested.
"Sure you aren't." And Philly pinned him with that pale, lichen green gaze of his, making Zan look away. "The info all checks out, but you aren't legal yet. So, what's the deal, Zan? Family problems? Abusive home?"
"I jus' gotta get out," he admitted, "My sista's drivin' me mad crazy, and my best friend...Well, I doan trust him no more. I gotta get away, maybe take Ava wit' me."
"Ava your girl?"
"Just don't let me find anything missing," he warned.
He gave his boss his most charming grin. "I doan drink, man, ain't no good fer my brain."
Philly smiled. "I like you Zan, you're smart. Now get out of here. Get some sleep, and be back at nine tonight."
"Sure thang." He jumped down, grabbing his leather jacket and headed to the door. "See ya later, Bob," he commented to the bouncer.
Ten minutes later he was strolling through the subway, glancing around dispassionately. Then he realized he was actually looking to catch a glimpse of a pale, gray uniform.
He shook his head. "Snap outta it man," he told himself, "Doan let some cherry in a short skirt do dis to ya. She nothing."
Nothing was right. She was just another girl, and he had enough girls to deal with.
He leaped off the platform and onto the abandoned track below. "Morning baby." Ava stepped out of the shadows, offering him a covered cup of coffee.
"Thanks, Aves," he said, ruffling her pink streaked hair.
"How'd it go?"
"Yeah." He looked down into her blue eyes. So hopeful, so adoring. He didn't understand how after twelve years on the streets, seeing what they'd seen and doing what they did, that she could still be so innocent. "I'm gettin' us out Aves, away from those two mothafuckers."
"Not no more Ava, it's jus' you an' me from here on out. Lonnie's up ta sumthin', I can feel it in ma bones."
"Neva say neva, Aves." He looked at her, expression guarded, "Wha's it gonna be, them or me?" She bit her lip and hesitantly took his hand.
"You, Zan, ya know it's always gonna be you."
He grinned and hooked her under his arm. "C'mon Aves, I need a shower and some sleep. Wanna help?" She could keep his thoughts from a certain brunette Cat. She giggled and ran ahead of him, splashing through puddles of water that were dripping from the pipes overhead.
Tossing the paper cup on the already liberally littered floor, he took off after her. He finally caught up with her right as they came to the entrance of their "home".
"So, ya back," his sister stated accusingly.
"Yeah," he said stiffly.
Lonnie leaned forward on the ratty couch. "How much ya make?"
"Hundred bucks." Ava shot him a surprised look.
"Yo, this is whack," Rath said, messing with his hockey gear, "Why yous gotta work? We's got alls we need."
Zan looked around. True, they had a t.v., a computer, refrigerator, major appliances, and sports and game stuff, but it was all things they had found and “fixed” or, mostly, stolen.
"We can't keep stealin' stuff fa'ever, Rath, we gotta live their way sumtime."
"No, we's doan. Look up there, Zan," he said, pointing at the glowing green pods mounted on the wall, "We's different Zan, we ain't human. We superior, and we goin' home soon."
"I doan know 'bout yous, Rath, but I ain't seen no motha ship comin' ta get us!"
"Boys! Doan make me get off this couch." They glared at her, Rath looking away after a second, but Zan never wavering. "Look, Zan, yous my lil bro, an' I love ya, but...Hundred dollars a night ain't gonna be enough ta support all a' us in a human lifestyle."
"So get a job."
"Me? Laborin'? No chance in hell."
"Then doan complain. I's doin' da best I's can, but I ain't gonna be 'round fa'ever Lonnie, an' yous needs ta learn ta sa'port yerselves."
"Sure, baby bro, wha'ever you say. And ya won't be around, I get it." He turned and started to walk away. "I'll make sure of it," she muttered, and Zan paused, knowing she hadn't meant for him to hear.
"Ya say sumthin' Lon?"
She smiled sweetly, but her eyes were cold. "Me? I'd din't say nothin'."
Please leave me some feedback!!
|posted on 30-Sep-2002 3:15:53 PM|
~~FIVE MONTHS LATER~~
May 20th. In eight days she'd be graduating. Her mom and dad would be sitting together in the front row, acting friendly while fighting under their breaths, proud of their valedictorian daughter.
Afterward, they'd argue over where to take her for a congratulatory dinner. When a place was finally decided, they'd give each other the silent treatment until dinner was served.
Then they'd "discuss" her future. Dad wanted her to go to Hoffstra and become a lawyer so she could take over his firm. Mom wanted her to follow in her footsteps and become a model.
She was going to NYU to become a journalist, she just hadn't informed her parents yet. Joss was coming with her. She hadn't picked out a major yet, she said she had until sophomore year, why worry now? They had requested to be roommates in the dorms, if they didn't get assigned the same suite, they'd rent an apartment.
But that was the future, today was the present. And today, she turned eighteen.
Joss had turned 18 in February and had been sneaking out, nearly every night, to go clubbing. Tonight, she was taking Roz with her.
"So where is this place?" she asked.
"Do we have to take the subway?"
"We can. It'd be cheaper than taking a cab. Why?"
"No reason." No reason at all. She was definitely not still thinking about that guy. There was no way.
"Is that what you're wearing?" Joss demanded as she came out of the bathroom.
"Yes. Why?" She looked down at herself, her khakis were pressed, her polo shirt was clean, what was the problem?
"Lovey, this is a club and bar. Look at yourself again and then look at me. Tell me what you see."
Joss was wearing a short teal and blue swirl skirt with a sparkly purple tube top. Her heels were about four inches high, her hair was up in one of those artfully careless styles, and her make-up was perfect.
"You look way better than me."
"Got it in one!"
"But I don't own clothes like yours," she reminded Joss.
"Then it's a good thing we're the same size, isn't it?" She strutted over to the closet and started rummaging through everything.
"Joss, no!" she protest, afraid.
"Chill, Roz, I'll take good care of you. Oh! This dress is absolutely you! I've never even worn it!"
"Joss..." She was reluctant, Joss's style was more...out there than her own, but she had to admit the red dress was pretty, if a little short.
"Go change, I'll find you some shoes and then we'll do hair and make-up."
"Fine," she agreed, defeated. And let Joss work her "magic".
When they finally snuck out she had the little red dress on, two-inch heels, her hair looked like it had been permed, and her make-up was also perfect.
She felt ready for the city, maybe even ready for a run-in with a cocky guy. One with black hair and amber eyes...NO! She wasn't thinking about him, he was gone. Never to be seen again.
She just had to convince her heart of that.
Please leave feedback!
|posted on 15-Oct-2002 7:31:12 AM|
|Hal-looooo! So, I've been gone for just a teensy while.... But my self-proscribed vaca is over, so I'll be updating all my fics again very soon. This one is first because I already have most of it written, so it's just a cut-and-paste type thing. |
Rath was chilling behind Lonnie in line. It had taken a whole five frickin’ months before Lonnie would come here with him, and there was no way he was going alone. Looking like a loser wasn't his gig.
The Haze was the new hot spot according to the talk on the streets. Lonnie had gone once, said it was cool, and then told him they wouldn't be going again until it was more happening.
Meaning, more guys were around that she could freak on.
Rath did his part, he acted jealous when she started flirting with the other men, but it really didn't bother him. She was a good lay, nothing more. He wanted someone with a little more...fire.
A laugh drew his attention toward the door and he caught a glimpse of the melodic voice's owner. She was tall, willowy, with shoulder length blonde hair. He couldn't tell what color her eyes were, but he suddenly had the impulse to jump out of line and find out.
"Yo, lover, we's up."
"Huh?" He noticed the line in front of them had ceased to exist and wrapped a proprietary arm around Lonnie's waist, because she expected it. "Well, les' go party than, baby," he responded, nuzzling her ear.
"What's the prob?" Lonnie asked the doorman.
The guy was looking at a clipboard, "You two aren't allowed."
He looked at the, eyes impassive, the perfect cop face. "The management has I.D.ed you two due to unsuitable behavior at other clubs. You're not allowed in."
"But, Opie, hon..." And Lonnie pressed up against him, rubbing her lower anatomy into his. "We's harmless, honest."
"Sorry, no go." But he didn't sound sorry at all.
"C'mon, Lons, fuck this, we's can go some place else."
"Yeah, alright." She walked away with him, arm in arm. When they were a fair distance away, she started cussing. "Who da fuck do they think they's are? Fuckin' royalty? No shit, when da mother ship come, we takin' this miserable excuse for a planet out. Not allowed, fuck them."
"Lon, we's ain't always act real nice when we's out."
"Shut up, Rath." She went back to swearing to herself. "We's shoulda brought Ava," she said finally, "We'll do that next time."
"Next time? Lons we's still gotta wait in line, and Ava can't keep up a warp dat long. She weak."
She glared at him, brown eyes condescending. "Shut up, Rath, I wasn't talkin' ta ya."
They'd been waiting for like an hour, and Roz's feet were killing her. She had no idea how Joss managed to do this night after night, but she bowed down to the ability. They would have been closer, but there had been a commotion at the door.
Joss was jumping up and down, trying to see over the six foot seven inch man in front of her. "I think some people got sent away," she said finally, face flushed with accomplishment. "It shouldn't be too much longer."
"I hope not," she replied, "I need to sit down."
"You can't sit down!" Joss exclaimed, "We have to dance."
"How about you dance and I'll wait until my feet stop throbbing."
"Fine, but promise me you'll dance with me sometime. There are a lot of fine guys in this club." She giggled, "Especially the bar tender. The boy is sooo yummy."
"Oh come on, Roz, loosen up. This is the night you become a woman, lovey, ya gotta have some fun. I'll make sure of it."
"Joss," she warned again. She could never tell just what the red-head had in store when she got that smile on her face.
"Here we are!" she enthused, showing the doorman their I.D.s. "Roz, this is Bob the doorman. Bob, this is Roz, she's my girl, and I promised her she'd have fun."
Bob grinned, "I don't think anyone could not have fun with you Joss."
"Aww," she kissed his cheek, "Ain't he sweet?" And then she tugged Roz inside.
The Haze deserved its name. A light layer of fog rolled along the floor, the colors of the club were muted, kinda dreamy and light. She liked the atmosphere of this place. She liked it a lot.
Joss headed out to the dance floor on the arm of some guy she had just met and Roz stood on the edge of the dance floor, clutching her borrowed purse and looking for a place to sit.
Most of the tables were full, and those that weren't seemed to have a drunk man leering at her. She shook her head when a guy asked her to dance, and headed toward the bar. There was an empty seat at the end, and she slid onto it gratefully.
She leaned down, rubbing her feet as best she could, and discreetly checked to make sure the tiny dress was covering all of her. Then she searched through the purse for some money to get a soda.
A clink of glass on wood made her finally look up. She stared at the glass of coke on front of her, with a cherry speared on an umbrella. "I didn't order this-"
"It's on da house, Mary," the bartender interrupted her. She gasped and met his eyes, honey brown to chocolate.
"You," she breathed, unable to articulate anymore.
"Da name's Zan, Mary," he told her, sticking out his hand.
"Rosalyn," she said firmly, placing her hand in his, "Rosalyn Braver.
Stop! You'll have to wait to get the next part, unless you leave me loads of feedback or go to the Zanatiks board and read what happens there...But hopefully, you'll still leave me feedback!
[ edited 1 time(s), last at 15-Oct-2002 7:39:41 AM ]
|posted on 19-Oct-2002 8:44:57 AM|
Rosalyn? How very Shakespearean. He grinned at her. "So, Rosalyn, where's your Romeo? Or did he ditch you for a Juliet?"
Subtle, Zan, he told himself. It seemed like a reasonable question, no need for her to think he was fishing information about a boyfriend.
Shit, why did he care anyway? She was just a girl, a nothing little human girl. Who cared if she had these eyes that could see into his soul? Who cared if her petite body seemed to beg for him to protect it? Who cared if her hair looked silky enough to run his fingers through?
He didn't, no way, no how.
"I came with Joss," she replied, smiling at him.
Joss? What the hell kinda pansy ass name was that? Joss? He was about to comment on it, not knowing why it irked him so much to find she was somebody's girl, but she continued.
"She's dancing with some guy over there." She was gesturing to the dance floor.
"She?" he repeated, stunned. Was she a lesbian? It was okay if she was and everything, but he always kinda thought Cats were straight-up.
"Uh-huh, the one with the sparkly top."
Zan ran his eyes of the mass of gyrating bodies and they snagged on a girl getting up close and personal with a big guy. So, not a lesbian. Was she bi? Cause he was up to convincing her that guys were more fun.
The girl suddenly slapped the guys hands away from her butt and walked toward the bar, then he got a good look at her red hair and angry green eyes.
"You mean Red?" he asked. Red and Rosalyn...Philly'd be so disappointed.
"Red? Oh, her hair. Yeah, but her name is Josselin, just like my name's not Mary."
"Sure, sweets," he said, flashing her a smile.
She frowned at him and was going to say something, but Red plopped down on the stool beside her. "I need a drink."
"Ya unda' age," he told her.
"I meant a soda, lovey. Sprite on the rocks. What'd you get Roz?"
Roz? He smiled again, to himself, cute nickname. "Cherry coke. It was on the house."
"No fair!" And Red pouted those blow-job lips of hers as Zan placed the drink in front of her. Then she looked at him suspiciously, "Did you do something to it?"
He looked at her surprised, "Ya watched me pour it!"
"I meant her drink, lovey. Did you put something in Roz's drink?"
"Naw. She unda' age, too."
"It doesn't taste funny, Joss, why are you so worried?"
"Cause our boy here has got himself a reputation for going through women like a banshee through walls, and as yummy as he looks, I want you to lose it to a man who'll treat you right."
"Joss!" Rosalyn looked scandalized, and he hid a breath of relief, at least now he knew she was into men. And, she was still a virgin.
"What makes ya think I'd even do Mary here?" Green eyes narrowed at him and that big mouth opened-
"Then why did you offer?"
Slack-jawed Red turned to the tiny brunette beside her, and Zan also looked. Brown eyes regarded him curiously and he swallowed hard, not able to look away.
"Wha'?" he finally managed.
"The subway," she reminded him, "You said once I figured it out, you'd be around to remedy the situation."
"Did'ja figure it out?" he inquired, knowing the answer.
"What are you two talking about? What subway? Roz? Hello? Are you listening to me?"
Roz didn't look at her, she just held his gaze. "You were referring to the Virgin Mary. To me being a virgin."
"And ya gonna take me up on da offer?"
"Wait a minute! I get it! And don't think for an instant I'm letting you get your womanizing hands on my best friend!" Red was still fuming, but neither he nor she noticed.
"I thought the offer had been revoked," she pointed out, coyly looking down at the bar and tracing her glass. She ran a finger around the top of the red umbrella and pulled it out, revealing the red cherry on the toothpick.
She met his eyes and brought it to her lips, sliding the cherry into her mouth, then licked her lips, making them wet and inviting. Zan gulped.
"Naw, sweets, da offer still stands. What d'ya say?"
I know leaving it there was quasi-evil, but if you leave me feedback, you'll find out what happens a lot faster...
|posted on 31-Oct-2002 9:59:17 PM|
|Ugh, I really need to get hopping! But I can't figure out ezboard now that they've changed the format! I'm so stupid. *sob* So I'm just gonna post another part here.|
She stared at him, not sure of what to say. She had no idea what had possessed her to tease him like she had, but the maelstrom it had produced behind those laughing amber eyes was wreaking havoc within her body.
"ZAN!" He tore his eyes away from her and she sighed silently with relief and also regret. The other man behind the door was glaring at Zan. "There are other customers besides her you know."
"I knows, Philly, I's comin'. Doan get'cha boxers in a bunch."
He nodded and smirked at her one last time, "We'll finish this later, sweets. Count on it."
She said nothing, just gazed at him, and he reached toward her, tucking a strand of her curly hair behind her ear. Roz felt a blush heat her cheeks and she unconsciously leaned into his palm.
The smirk gentled into a half-smile. "Doan go nowheres, Rosalyn Braver," he ordered her softly, "We ain't done here."
"You most certainly are!" Roz gave a start and turned to Josselin. She had forgotten about her friend.
"Joss, what's the matter?"
"She doan like me much, do ya Red?" And his smile was mocking the hot-tempered Irishwoman beside her.
"I gots ta go." And he drifted away, further down the bar.
"Joss what's wrong?"
"What's wrong? What's wrong? You were flirting!"
"You flirt all the time," she pointed out, not comprehending her best friend's behavior.
Joss gave a shriek of exasperation. Roz was way too innocent, she never should have brought her here. "I don't flirt with guys like that."
Joss looked down the bar, studying the two men. She knew Zan by reputation only, and what she had heard around the club was that he was a very good bad boy. She could see what the women found favorably about him. He had a ripped body, breathtaking smile, soul-stealing eyes, and a voice that could give you an orgasm. But the piercings in his ear, eyebrow, and chin told her there were many other elsewhere, he probably even had tattoos...
Philly, on the other hand, often chatted with her when she was alone and wanted to escape the groping hands of guys on the dance floor. He was nice, sweet, with these pale green eyes...He was the kind of man she wanted to see Roz with. Heck, he was the kind of guy she wanted to be with. It was a shame he was nearly a decade older than them.
"He's not my type," she said simply, "And he's not your type either." There, that would set some boundaries.
"But, Joss, we don't know what my type is."
"I do," she told her, "He's not it."
Roz gave a funny, little sigh and fingered the wooden countertop. Joss looked at her friend and gave her own sigh. Rosalyn was dead gone on that guy.
"Roz, lovey. He's been with a lot of women, and I mean a lot of women. He knows exactly what he's doing, he knows how to get you Roz. Devirginizing girls is like child's play to guys like Zan, they think sex is some big game. I don't want you hurt like that, you deserve better."
"But I don't think he's like that, Joss."
"How could you not? I mean look at him." The boy had player written all over him. It was like a neon sign encoded in his genes, he just broadcasted sex, and God only knew how many women had fallen for it.
"Joss..." Roz broke off, "It's just...Something in his eyes. It's like...he's been waiting just for me, you know. Like I'm the one. His one."
"And how many other girls do you think he caught acting that very same way? Eyes can lie Roz, it may take time, but they can."
Roz just shook her head, not looking at her. Joss frowned, if Rosalyn wanted to be stubborn, fine. She'd have to take matters into her own hands.
"Which one you takin' home tonight?" Philly asked as they hurriedly passed out drinks to the high-demanding customers. Zan gave a blonde a wink and she giggled, blowing him a kiss as her boyfriend dragged her away.
He glanced back down the bar, to the corner where Rosalyn and Red were deep in discussion. Her brown hair was blocking her face, but he could tell by her body language that she was either very distressed or very tense.
Either way, she'd be relaxed by tomorrow. He'd make sure of it. Maybe a little sore, but relaxed, and very, very satisfied.
Philly's snort brought him out of the little fantasy he had concocted in his mind. "Wha'?" he asked.
Philly was frowning. "Popping cherries ain't a good idea, Zan."
Again, his gaze traveled down the bar and he met her eyes. "I'll be real careful wit' this one, Philly."
Roz was blushing under his scrutiny, and finally looked away. Joss's red head swung in his direction, her green eyes were filled with a fire he could see from here.
"Hey, Philly!" she shouted from her end of the bar. Philly perked up, eyes hopeful and trotted toward her. Zan shook his head. The man was whipped. He'd walk through fire if Red asked him to. He felt sorry for the older man, though, falling for a girl like that.
He followed his boss at a slower pace, not sure if he appreciated the scheming look in Red's eyes when she had glared at him. He reached them to hear the end of her question.
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|posted on 11-Nov-2002 8:02:51 PM|
"Joss, what are you doing?" Roz demanded of her friend, who was leaning over the bar, batting her lashes at the man she had called Philly.
"I'm doing you a favor, lovey," she responded, smiling at Philly and taking the bullhorn he had just taken from under the bar. Roz watched with trepidation as the red-head carefully climbed on top of the bar.
"Ya ain't allowed up there, Red."
Roz sent Zan a grateful smile, which he returned with a wink that made her blush, but Joss just glared at him.
"Shut up, you," she said. Then she straightened, standing tall and smiling at the guys seated in front of her. Roz saw them trying to look up her skirt and frowned at them. "Attention!" she shouted through the bullhorn, "Everyone, you're attention please!"
"Joss, what are you doing?" Roz pleaded, mortified.
"Yo, Philly man, you ain't actually gonna let this happen? Is you?" Zan asked of his boss, not liking the look Red had given him, and Roz was looking mad alarmed.
"It's entertainment, Zan, it's good for business." The older man slapped his back and turned with rapt attention back to his goddess.
"Yeah, right," Zan muttered. Philly wouldn't allow shit like this normally, but it was Red, and Philly had a serious hard on for Mz. Thang up there.
The club had stopped. Literally. The music had cut out, gyrating couples had stayed their frantic movements, and everyone had their eyes on her. Joss smiled.
"Today, everyone, is a very special day. Why? You may ask, because, it is my best friend's birthday!" Clapping sounded around the place, and Joss held her hand out to Roz, inviting her up. Roz shook her head. "Get up here, Roz!"
The crowd started up a chant, egging Joss on in her quest. Roz finally, timidly, joined her on the bar. She wobbled slightly, still getting used to the two-inch heels, and grabbed her hand.
"Joss, don't do this!" she begged, looking out over the sea of people.
"Don't worry, lovey, I got it all under control," she whispered back, then lifted the bullhorn back up to her lips. She so woulda been a fab cheerleader. "And this isn't just any birthday, oh no, Rosalyn here is eighteen today!"
More cheering ensued.
"Yup, boys, that's right, my girl's now legal for almost anything." Cat calls and whooping came from the peanut gallery.
"Joss!" Roz whispered, scandalized.
"So, who's our first contestant?" A mob of men instantly surrounded the bar. Joss looked them over circumspectly. Her eyes suddenly fell upon a nicely dressed guy, early twenties, and cute to boot.
"You!" she yelled, pointing at him, “Come here and claim your prize.” He was pushed forward by a herd of other guys, obviously his friends, until he was right in front of the girls. Joss gave Roz a little push and she teetered off the bar and into the man's arms. "Bring her back safe!" she called after them as he led Roz to the dance floor.
"Fuck no!" Zan said, making to leap over the bar after the guy who had just stolen his cherry.
"Freeze, Romeo." A four-inch spiked heel was planted firmly in his chest and he looked into emerald eyes.
"You doan even know that guy, Red!" he exclaimed angrily, not understanding how she could trust some random stranger with a Mary like Roz. She had no idea what kind of jack off he was.
"Maybe not, but I trust him more than you."
"You doan know me neither," he stated.
She shrugged, "I know your type, Zan, and I'm not gonna let you near Roz. She'd fall in love and you'd break her heart. She doesn't need that. She doesn't need you. So just back off."
Zan stared at her, feeling inexorably hurt, and he backed off. She handed the bullhorn back to Philly with a brilliant smile and jumped off the bar, beckoning to one of the jack off's college buddies.
Philly gave him a sympathetic grin. "You can't argue with that woman," he admired.
"Maybe not," Zan replied offhandedly, "but I sure as hell can go behind her back."
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