Light My Way

[Harlequin]

"True enough," she said, shrugging, "But it seemed important to you." She smiled lopsidedly again. If he didn\'t want her to know, that was fine. "Sorry for the ramble," she said, in hopes of putting it behind them, "Sometimes I just latch onto things I don\'t understand, and run with them. Even the inconsequential things." She stooped to pick up the ladder, scooting it back until it was underneath the nearest fixture, "I\'ve been told I make a bad habit of talking about people as if they were puzzles." She ascended the step ladder as she spoke, squinting up into the fluorescent light.

"Oh, dear lord, it\'s dead-bug city in here. Gross."  

[Existentially Odd]

He frowned, latching onto his irritation that, with all the refurbishing that had gone on, no-one had bothered to clean off a stupid light.  It was better than addressing all her earlier conversation - though he could probably comment on her bad habit of puzzling people out, he felt it wiser to just leave it all alone.  Safer, even, lest he respond to his urge to snatch away all her hypothesising in one swift dip with his fangs.  She no doubt tasted as sweet as she fucked; he could certainly dig that vibe.... but he mustn\'t!  So he resisted, and talked all about the lights and how he would bring it up when he next saw his foreman (which would be never, considering teh work was complete, but it was something inane to say).

He travelled the room with her measuring things, moving the ladder when she got down, following her directions on where to put it.  He tried very hard not to watch her ass while that happened but... and the coffin was the one thing in the room they circled in conversation as much as in reality, but it only made him think about getting her in there and...

"So, do you think you\'ll have time to come and do some work here on the lights every night, or are you pretty booked up?" he eventually asked, trying desperately to get back to business and hoping that his guess that she was close to finishing her measurements was correct.  If he didn\'t get her out of the basement soon, he\'d grab her and... start to look flustered and that didn\'t fit with his image at all.

[Harlequin]

She was rather disappointed to see that he wasn\'t interested in a psychological discussion with her – but then, most people weren\'t. She was just as content as he to let the matter alone, but only because he so obviously wanted to. "Sure," she said in answer to his question, from atop the stepladder, "This is the first in at least a few days of free evenings. I can move things around, because I\'d just hate to leave things half-done for a week." She wrote something down on her pad, and then stepped down off the ladder, slipping it into her back pocket again and clipping her tape measure to the waistband of her jeans. "I think that\'s good for down here."

She yawned hugely, covering her mouth with one hand, before stretching her back, arms thrust out, linked, over and behind her head. A slice of flesh showed in the gap between the top of her jeans and the frayed T-shirt, "Anything else?" she asked as her muscles relaxed, arms dropping back to her sides.

[Existentially Odd]

Naturally, his gaze was drawn to that strip of tummy and to the way her shirt strained over her breasts.  He got to wondering what colour her underwear was this time, looking her over and aware that she might read his thoughts in his eyes but determined to not let it get the better of him.  He could be stronger than his pseudo-rampaging lust dictated he should be.

"A nap in the coffin?" he suggested.  Fuck.  Until he talked, apparently.  Then he\'d put his thoughts right the hell out there.  "You look tired," he grinned, deciding to give up and go with it.  Let her be the one to tell him no; it was obvious she was the one with stronger morals and the work ethic to match.

[Harlequin]

"It\'s a kind offer," It was like he\'d picked up on that one morbid desire – well, one of a few – and offered it to her. "And I am tired," she said, "But, I should get acclimated to staying up late. Besides, I have my own bed at home." She remembered that the sheets were dirty. Irrelevant, at that moment, but something she ought to remember when she got home.

Besides, if she gave in to his request, who knows what else she might give in to, if he decided to climb in there with her?

[Existentially Odd]

"Kind?" he mused, unable to think of a time in his existence - ever - when he\'d been thusly labelled.  He knew she had to understand his motives better than that, but she\'d made the effort to decline him and it was all he\'d been after - a refusal was more than a token when he wanted to retain a healthy working relationship, after all.

"If you say so," he chuckled, folding up the stepladder and stepping behind her with it, pressed slightly up against her back so that they were both now looking in the coffin\'s direction.  "It\'s not as comfortable as a bed, anyway.  Not as heavily padded.  Just slippery and... fun."

[Harlequin]

Her breath caught again, goddamn it all as he pressed up against her back. She smiled though, and stepped out of reach, turning to face him, so th at her back was now toward the coffin, and she faced the stairs, "Less padding, you say? Bruised knees are not my...thing." she tossed his words back at him, still smiling vaguely.

"I\'d be obliged if you could carry that upstairs." she nodded toward the stepladder in his hand, deftly changing the subject, as well.

[Existentially Odd]

He grinned lasciviously, hefting the ladder obediently, but not responding to her request directly.  It was obvious he\'d carry it for her, but that his mind was not really on the work just then.

"You wouldn\'t be on your knees, darlin\'," he chuckled, smiling through an impertinent look over.  She was just so fucking cute that he couldn\'t resist attempting to get her naked and underneath him, no matter how often his noble ideas flitted in and out of his mind.  He was fully cognisant of the fact that her refusing him only made him want to pursue her harder - and recognised that as a flaw in his own psyche - but fuck if he could stop.

[Harlequin]

"Bruised back, then," she corrected. She didn\'t actually have any problem with bruises – that would be silly, in her line of work – and she could probably take whatever he could throw at her but it was the principal of the thing.

"Now, how many times do I have to say \'no\' before you and take that ladder upstairs for me?" Single brow cocked, she regarded him, hands on tapered hips, "Or do I have to do it myself?"

[Existentially Odd]

He raised his eyebrows, as if telling her to settle down, and left the basement with a noncomittal grunt.  He traipsed his way into the dining room and then paused, wondering if she was planning on measuring two spare rooms now.  He watched her approach him and asked just that, a cool tone evident in his voice.

"Shall I carry her majesty\'s ladder into the spare room now, or do you think you\'ve spent enough time in my evil presence for one evening?" he asked smarmily, bowing mockingly towards her.  When he straightened, there was a twisted smirk on his lips; he was busy thinking that it wasn\'t entirely his fault that he kept propositioning her, not when she was the one that had brought up... pseudo-sex or whatever the fuck she\'d babbled about.  Plus, she was the one that stretched her cute little self in front of him.

[Harlequin]

"Oh! Goodness! I\'d totally forgotten the spare rooms," she said, after climbing the stairs behind him, "Yes. Absolutely."

Nimm smiled winningly at him, "I don\'t know this \'her majesty\' you speak of, but if you wouldn\'t mind carrying mine..." She ignored the smirk, though it certainly didn\'t escape her notice. Evil, indeed.

She didn\'t actually need him to carry the lightweight stepladder for her, but he\'d picked it up, and she was perfectly fine with letting him haul the cumbersome thing around for her.

[Existentially Odd]

He behaved himself for the remainder of her measuring escapades, not deigning to engage on the whole \'her majesty\' comment.  He was grumpy from her telling him off and being so... so fucking uneffected by him (even though her breathing had been altered when he got close)... that he didn\'t wish to entertain her silliness.  He also resented the fact that she could be so infuriatingly calm and pretend like throwing his sly (and fucking witty, Goddamnit!) innuendoes in his face was all very amusing.

The grumpiness led to boredom while he watched her writing and so his mind wandered onto other things, like what furniture he\'d buy for each room when everything was done, how much he was prepared to spend... how Reed was doing and if he\'d like it.  Not to mention wondering why no-one in the group had called another adventure since New Zealand.  Probably because it had gone so horribly, but Reed\'s rib would have to be fully recovered by now.

Before Tom knew it, they were back in the lounge room, Nimm was fiddling with her toolbox and he was ready to send her on her way for tonight.  "So I guess the next time you come, you\'ll have the lights and stuff?  Might not be tomorrow night exactly, right?  If you\'re going straight to the manufacturer\'s, are you going to arrange for a night time pickup so I can be there to pay for it all, or will I just expect you to show up with the goods and reimburse you?" he asked blandly, his hands shoved into his jeans pockets as he presented the image of the perfectly disinterested customer.  He knew she didn\'t have that sort of money, but he wanted to know exactly how it would go.

[Harlequin]

"The parts will be delivered to my apartment some time during the week. I\'ll have them send the bill to this address." She\'d been glad that he had deigned not to push her any more, because, this time,  she\'d been prepared with answer that shut him down immediately. It was nice to know that they worked; he couldn\'t catch her off guard every time.

"I could come in tomorrow night, though, and get started on the master bedroom, if you\'d like. I think I\'ll leave the window boxes for last." She paused, straightening from the floor, toolbox back in had, "Again, of course, if that\'s what you want." She was only concerned – it seemed – with what he wanted when it came to the work.

But a thought interrupted her, as she mentioned the windowboxes, "Sunlight," she said abruptly, "It\'s not just that you don\'t like it, is it?" She paused again, "Or is it? Ah. Here I go again." she waved a dismissive hand, "You don\'t have to answer that. It\'s none of my business."

He told you, silly lady, it\'s just a coffin.  

[Existentially Odd]

He set his jaw, back teeth tapping together ruminatively.  She certainly had all the pieces to his puzzle, she just needed him to confirm that the picture was, indeed, correct.  He couldn\'t bring himself to do that just now, though, so he focussed on her former comments, rather than her last.

"Ah yes, you said you\'d do that, sorry," he apologised.  Stupid shit memory, he\'d already let go of the arrangement they\'d decided on just that night and looked like an idiot when her words prompted him to remember she\'d already said that.  It was especially bad because it also looked like he was avoiding commenting on the vampire thing (which he was, but he would have preferred some subtlety!) and got... muddled.  He didn\'t wish to present as muddled.

"And yes, tomorrow night\'s fine, window boxes \'til last is good.  Need to find someone to do the computer stuff for me, anyway," he nodded distractedly, heading to the front door and opening it, thinking she\'d take the hint - and her exit.  "What time do you think you\'ll get here?"  He had an idea he might like to go out before she arrived, if it was at all possible... see a vamp about a secret.

[Harlequin]

She took the hint, though it was unnecessary. She picked up her stepladder and moved onto the porch, murmuring thanks as he held the door for her, "I have a late afternoon appointment that could run long," she told him, standing on the doorstep, "So around eightish, I\'m thinking." She nodded thoughtfully, "Yes. Eight should do it." She smiled at him as she tipped an imaginary hat, taking her leave, "See you tomorrow, Tom."

She packed her things in her truck, and left thoroughly unsatisfied, though she was glad for the continuing opportunity to get to the bottom of this mystery.