|Author:||klundtacular (Authenticated as klundtacular)|
|Date:||December 16, 2012 at 6:46:23 PM|
|Reply to:||12 Days: Day 3 by klundtacular|
... the one in which I use my subtlty and Stephon doesn't.
Jaime cast her cold blue eyes in Stephon’s direction. Having received a heavy-handed baseball bat on his leg and a stun gun shot at her hands, the two of them had history to say the least. Parker had informed Stephon that his business with Jaime was over. There had been good times… Actually, no, there really hadn’t been too many good times. She had haunted him.
The first time they’d met Jaime had this completely artificial hue saturating her blond hair. In his mind’s eye she would always have cherry hair. He would always see glimpses of red during the time he searched through archives in Krakow. She would be wise to drop the insipid and stifling blond in the future. Next time around the red would set her free.
Jaime had killed her mentor to save his life but she hated him for it. It was just as well. They had no real future passed the bedroom. Besides, he knew Parker had designs on her even though she rebuffed him in perpetuity—which he thought was hilarious. Parker and Jaime did not share glances, the kind that hinted at romantic notions. Could that happen, he wondered. Could those two actually have romance in the future after Parker’s deeds had faded away?
The girl—she didn’t have a name until she proved she was worthy of one—entered the room. He thought of her as a child because he so hoped that she would have a mulligrubs character. It would only build a fire inside to know he found her inferior intellectually, psychologically and physically. Any woman Parker found interesting would hate him for Stephon finding them inferior. Stephon was physically superior. He’d killed many people. He doubted the child could be even remotely equitable intellectually. As to the final item, well, that would only be deciphered in the future. But she had to earn her name first, instead of being just a face.
“When do I get to open my present?” the protégé called from the hall. She held a box approximately one foot by one foot by one foot.
“What did you buy her, old man?” Stephon inquired contemplating what would be inside the box.
“Two Tschida custom guns,” she answered for Parker with a bit of attitude as she reentered the room like she dared Stephon to let her test them out. Her heels clicked until they landed on the rug anchoring the dining room. She could be taller than he in her heels.
Killian raised an eyebrow and asked, “Is that what you want or what you’ll get?”
“It’s what I gave her.”
“What did you give everyone else?” The girl clucked to Parker like the chick she was and then gave her hideously beautiful smile to Parker.
“Ménage à trios,” Stephon snottily replied. Parker made a slight movement with his head to the right and then left like Stephon had done exactly what Parker had predicted. Stephon hated that smug look.
“You’re not exact my speed, Green Eyes,” Killian replied with narrowing eyes.
“I wasn’t talking about you,” Stephon clarified for his friend. Jaime yawned at him.
“Je ne parle pas français,” the girl contradicted her statement by speaking in French while walking around him to her seat. Killian smirked, having understood her slight. Parker gave him a look that dared him to try it with the child. She leaned in just barely after passing him. “Tu peux toujours rêver,” she whispered her cutting remark. Stephon gave a genuine smile and slightly turned his head in Ariadne’s direction though her back was now to him. Well, he supposed he could dream it.
The servers set the hens out before each person and Stephon raised his glass and offered to the others, “Bon appétit.”
~Raging and quivering female mass of hormones and tosser of Dark Side Cookies™ (trade marked by Etoile)
This message was edited by the author on December 17, 2012 at 5:40:53 PM
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