tampered | (no subject)

(no subject)

When; Saturday; 29th of December
Rating; R for Cassidy's mouth
Characters; Cassidy

glock30
Summary; Apologies and retrospect make for romance, right?
Log;

The Underground was good enough for a few days, but Cassidy knew when enough was enough, and cold, muggy, damp and fucking dangerous categorized as enough. He made his way to the surface, his feet taking him to Faye's building.

Too much of a fuckin' coward to knock on her bleedin' door, Proinsias? He lit a cigarette and slumped next to her door, smoking it down. Why the fuck did she have to do that? He hadn't done anything to her. She had been perfect, up until that fucking cough and that fucking Driver bitch. Cassidy flicked the cigarette away. Shit, he missed Tulip. What the fuck was wrong with him?

Ever since God had brought him back - sort of - he had promised to be a better person, but so far he was the same old dick. At least Faye was good to him. She didn't know, and she didn't have to be, and she still was. So he kept trying.

At least he had managed to keep his word.

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In the past week, she had probably played somewhere in the vicinity of seventy-six games of solitaire. Faye wasn't even good at solitaire--mostly because she couldn't cheat--and it wasn't even all that interesting of a game anyway--which explained the name rather nicely.

She had a feeling it was because she'd made for sour company, but that was hardly her fault, right? None of this was her fault. Nothing was ever her fault unless she consciously acknowledged it. Still, that didn't account for the way her stomach was trying to claw its way out of her abdomen: her stomach and guilt had never exactly been the best of friends.

This was why she didn't get involved, she reminded herself, toeing into her boots and pulling her heavy jacket closed, zipping it, thinking that she'd go beat down Kitty Jones' door until this whole thing made sense. Kitty wouldn't be busy. Kitty could make reason out of bullshit.

Cigarettes and keys in hand--rather, pocket--she didn't bother locking the door but came up short just as soon as she had it closed. Speak of the devil, however indirectly. Damn it.

Faye swallowed and said, lamely, "Oh." She paused for a moment, feeling that odd rush of an awkward moment rising up the pit of her stomach. Damn it. "Uh...hi."

Smooth.

She was fucking beautiful.

It was more than her body, although Cassidy knew she had a rocking body, with a nice tight ass and these breasts that just were perfect for touching. It was that face, the way her smile lifted her eyes, the way her eyes lit up when she was cheating someone or smoking a good drag or talking to someone she liked.

She made him wax poetic, which was the fucking sissiest thing he had ever done in his hundred years of life, but that was that. Tulip was amazing too, but she was Jesse's (repeat, repeat, fucking repeat) and Faye was beautiful and Faye was here.

His stomach landed somewhere around his knees when he saw her and he scrambled up to his feet, his hands landing on his back pockets, on his cigs. He grabbed one between his skinny fingers and smoked. "Hey, luv."

The cigarette wasn't lit. Fucking brilliant.

Somewhere in the back of her mind she knew she was supposed to stay collected, stay annoyed--for whatever reason--and, above all else, keep her cool. In these high pressure situations, you couldn't afford to slip up or smile or do something completely fucking stupid because then that was it, cover blown, game over.

But, hey, it was involuntary. She couldn't help it, couldn't stop a grin, even though she bit it back as well as she could. Coupled with glancing down to rummage through her pocket for her lighter and she might have pulled it off.

When she looked back up, she was composed again, flipping hair out of her eyes. "You know, I think you're doing it wrong," she said, offering the lighter without waiting for a response.

It was good to hear his voice again. Especially right outside her own door.

Cassidy hadn't lived to be a hundred by being oblivious. Okay, mostly it was sheer and utter dumb luck, and the fact that he was indestructible probably didn't hurt, but he wasn't fucking totally oblivious. He caught the tail end of the grin.

You're a fuckin' clown but Jaysis, it doesn't fuckin' matter, he thought to himself, taking the lighter and lighting his cigarette. He took a drag and nodded to her. "Thanks, luv," he said casually, with a smile. It was always important to smile at a lady - that was probably the one thing that had stuck in his mind when his ma was telling him how to treat them - and so he did with a bit of care.

He leaned against the door. "So, what's new here, Faye?" he asked, reaching for the flask in his grubby vest and handing it to her. Awkwardness was usual when one of the two partners had been involved in an interrogation, he told himself with a slight frown tugging on the corner of his lips. He turned away for a second, blowing smoke away from her face so she wouldn't notice.

She couldn't, for the life of her, figure out why the hell he was smiling. In all actuality, she couldn't even figure out what he was doing here in the first place. No matter which way she looked at it, her mind came up blank. This was new territory, new grounds. No amount of wondering was ever going to make this one make sense if only because she was more accustomed to having to cut her losses and run.

But Faye also wasn't the type of woman to look a gift horse in the mouth. Cassidy actually being here at all was enough of one, though she'd never let on about it. The offered flask didn't hurt things either.

She took the thing but didn't drink it, still able to taste all those martinis from that stupid gala the night before. Instead she twisted the cap between her fingers, looking like she might be toying with the idea. "I don't know," she shrugged, and glanced up to see him blowing smoke the opposite direction. With more conviction--sarcasm--she continued: "Everyday's a new day when you're busy like me, you know. My schedule's always changing."

At least that was what her seventy-six games of solitaire said.

He couldn't for the life of him figure out why he was there in front of her, smiling like a goon. He was trying so fucking hard. He wasn't exactly known for his persistence when a woman basically told him to shove off.

But Faye, hadn't really, so there he was, looking like an asshole and smiling like and idiot. He finished his cigarette in a rush and flicked it to the ground, grinding it under his shoe. "Faye, luv..." he began, taking a deep breath.

Cassidy wasn't exactly a poet, so he just went for obvious. "Fuck, Faye, I really fuckin' like you and that's fuckin' hard enough to say. I've been feelin' like an idiot for the last fuckin' week and I'm here to..." what now? Say you're sorry? What fuckin' for? "...Jaysis Christ, Faye, you're under my goddamned skin."

He gave her a kiss that practically seared his skin off. Touching her was like touching the surface of the fucking sun. "Shit, luv. Why'd you fuck up so bad?"

She was torn halfway between wanting to hit him and wanting to run. Her fingers were already bunched up into fists before she realized she'd kissed him back with no reservation. Her back was already tense before she realized she'd started listening first.

The fact that he was more than willing to call her on her bullshit was as much of an annoyance as it was a turn on. Faye appreciated a challenge more than anyone else she knew. She was under his skin? Yeah fucking right. Give me a fucking break, she thought.

But she had to go with her gut, and her gut told her to keep her hackles raised. It was instinct. "Why did I fuck up?" she babbled, half a whisper. It was as loud as a gun popping to her ears. And they were standing too close. "Don't fucking put this on me. I don't know where you got it in your hand that I wanted any of that--it wasn't supposed to--I was just... concerned. About Cori. I didn't think Elle would actually do anything like that. I didn't think she'd take it that far."

She rubbed the bridge of her nose, her eyes throbbing. That was a fucking lie and he would know it. "I didn't think it would come to that."

Cassidy's hands were on her shoulders and he kissed her again. He couldn't help it; if it was the last chance he got, he was going to fucking take it. He stopped and looked at her. She looked fucking miserable, her eyes going red.

"Shit, Faye. Cor's a big boy. I know you care about the great big arsehole, but he's good at handlin' his own fuckin' shite." Cass slid his hands back into his pockets. "Driver's a fuckin' cunt who wishes she had a cock, and you know it. Girls like her, violence is imprinted in their fuckin' skulls." He knew that from experience.

He sat in silence for a minute. "I know you didn't want it, luv. I give you more fuckin' credit than that." He turned back to lean against the wall. "You're my best girl, Faye. I just want to know if I'm fuckin' around or if this is really worth my god-damned time."

It wasn't like she was going to cry. What was she, ten? But her stomach was a tangle of nerve endings and bell peppers, and her face felt like it was burning. She was almost grateful when he moved away, though she craved contact almost immediately regardless. Instead of doing something against her better judgment, she leaned against the door just next to him.

"I don't think you understand." Faye smirked and let her head fall back against the door but rolled her eyes to glance sidelong at him. "Typically, I don't give a shit about anyone outside of myself. It's easier that way. Cori's the only person I've ever known who actually stuck around long enough for me to give a shit about without regretting it. So I'm protective. Can't help it. I don't know all that much about Elle but if she's anything like me, well... then that's all there is to it."

The other part was more difficult, and she had to stare at the horrible pattern of the carpet before her thoughts stopped crawling around in her skull long enough to pin them down. Even so, she didn't look at him when she spoke. "I'm not the type of girl to fuck around, Cassidy. Even if I do, every once and a while, wear little yellow hot pants and a pair of stockings."

Cassidy scratched his stubble, shit, I need to fuckin' shave and looked down. "Shit, Faye. Cor...Cor's got it handled, okay?" He sat there and poked at his box of cigarettes, wondering if he should smoke another one. "If you really want to know, luv...I'll tell you, but you can't breathe a word of it to anyone." He could feel the looming glare of betrayal over him again, but what the hell could he do? He had promised Jesse that he'd try and be a better man, a good man. Good men didn't betray their friends, but Faye was his girl.

He crossed his arms and took a deep breath. It was fucking hard, not to want to hold her, but shit, he had to just get through this shit. She didn't know half of it, about the vampirism, about Tulip and Jesse and all that fucking shit that had gone down.

At her confession, he turned. "Luv...I'm not goin' to fuck around with you. If I say it, I mean it. I was with my last girlfriend for a long fuckin' time" Over twenty years, "...and I'm not lookin' to break yer heart." He didn't. It always happened, but he never meant it.

That was truth. "I like your hot pants. Fuckin' sexy." He grinned.

Faye shook her head fervently. It wasn't like she didn't already know about Cori, but that was beside the point. She'd done enough damage--potential and otherwise--for one week. Keeping this whole ordeal a secret was a big deal to him, and now that she actually knew for herself, she could understand why. "Don't tell me," she said. "I don't even wanna know at this point. And--"

She cut herself off quickly, gnawing on her lip and looking at the carpet again. It really was hideous. But she was inwardly pleased he appreciated her fashion sense. Not just anyone could make hot pants look good. Yellow ones at that, and that was a comforting feeling. Faye felt, for lack of a better word, lighter.

"You should know that I don't exactly have the greatest track record as far as relationships go," she began, turning a bit so she was facing him. "And I'm probably a bitch in the morning. And my breath stinks and I sometimes look like Night of the Living Dead. Think you can handle it?"

Spike apparently hadn't been able to handle it, but she didn't want to think about it. Not now, not ever, ever again. The past was the past, and it was time to start taking her own advice.

There was a breath of relief when Faye told him that she didn't want to know. It meant that he didn't have to break his word to Cori, and keep Faye happy. He looked at the carpet, wondering if there was shit on it, the way she kept staring, but it looked like a regular fucking ugly carpet to him.

At her second admission, he held back a laugh. "Fuck, luv," he said, "I'm a bear during the day, I don't go out in the fuckin' sun, I'm drunk six nights out of seven, I swear like a fuckin' sailor, I've never had a fuckin' job that didn't involve killin' people, and I look like Night of the Living bleedin' Dead every fuckin' day." He took her hand in his - dirty fucking fingernails, as usual. "You're beautiful even when you're pissed and ready to fuckin' flay me alive, when you're sleepin' and snorin' like a fuckin' train, and bloody Jaysis Christ, you make me feel honest."

He shrugged. "If you can handle me, there ain't nothin' about you I don't want to see every day. Even the parts that fuck up."

Faye was pretty sure, almost positive but not quite, that she was going to choke on her own spit or say something completely stupid or blab something about herself that was really unpleasant. A lesser part of her, something so much younger than what she was, wanted to protest, for whatever reason, was stomping her foot down in an effort to contradict this, but she ignored it. That was fear and doubt, and she wouldn't acknowledge it. She was done with that now.

Listening to someone pay her compliments in a way that wasn't at least a little sleazy was new as well, but she did her best to pretend like it didn't matter, covering her flattery with sarcasm. It was easier. It made her feel better, and she was all about instant gratification.

"You know you really aren't selling yourself very well right now," Faye said, stepping back but not far enough to put any real distance between them. She narrowed her eyes. "And I don't snore."

To be honest, his admission, especially the bit about the honesty, freaked the shit out of her. Faye wasn't honest. She wasn't sure she could ever be completely honest, but she wasn't exactly out to ruin that trait in someone else either. She hoped it would be enough. After all, she did owe it to him. That and--

"You should know, too," she began, almost as an afterthought, like it really didn't matter, like it was no big deal, "that I really am sorry about what happened."

Cassidy rarely felt honest, let alone was honest. He had tried that honesty crap with Tulip, but he really just wanted to fucking lie to her all the time. He wanted to be honest with Faye, which was new and fucking terrifying, like meeting God or staring at the bleeding sun come up over Texas. Shit. He couldn't remember the last time he felt that way.

"Shite, Faye. I'm just lettin' you know." He adjusted his ever-present glasses. "Isn't that what this kind of thing is built on?" He shrugged. "I'm just sayin' what feels right."

He felt his gut rejoin the rest of his body when she said that she was sorry. It wasn't like he heard the words, really. After all the bullshit that he went through, after thinking that maybe she was just playing him like a fucking moron, the words meant a whole fuckload. "Thanks, luv," he said, covering up the sentiment with his usual layer of asshole and disregard.

Fuck that shit.

He pulled her in for another kiss, then let go. "I have your Christmas present." He tugged it out of his pocket, the small zippo lighter (http://zippocasemuseum.com/uploads/ProductImages/24200.jpg) with some fancy etchwork on it. "Not super fancy, I know. But shite. I thought you'd like it."

She wondered about the glasses--it was giving new meaning to that horrible song--but didn't press the question, since she was too busy being relieved. Something like an enormous elephant had just been cleared off of her shoulders, not to mention her intestines. It was one of the only things she could focus on. That and kissing him: two things she was liking more and more.

Accepting the Zippo was a different matter entirely, however. It was better than the one she had by a long shot--that one wasn't even hers--and she'd always liked things both practical and, well... shiny. She was a girl first, ball buster second. Shiny was always important.

"It's better than the old one," she remarked, flipping the lid and feeling in her pocket for the old one. She could throw it away outside. It wasn't like she needed it anymore. And once she was sure the new one was in no danger of falling victim to Faye's more... irresponsible traits, she grabbed the edge of his vest and pulled him back. "I didn't bring your present with me. IOU?"

Cassidy grinned as he moved forward towards her. Faye was so tiny; little bones, little build, delicate and fucking amazing. Scary, at times.

"Luv," he whispered, and kissed her again. "I need to fuckin' shave and shower. Haven't for a while," he admitted. "But then I'll come collect the IOU." He scratched his stubble again. "We'll drink it up then," he suggested with a grin, and leaned down, his hands on her waist, kissing her on the cheek.

"She's a sweet thing, she'll do good by you, that lighter.."

He had a point, but Faye didn't feel like thinking about it, considering the possible reasons behind it. That was over and done with, revisiting it would just be a pain.

"Just remember that it doesn't stand forever." She moved back, going for the door. Kitty could wait five minutes for him to leave the goddamn building--she wasn't about to follow him out like some little girl. "After that, I start collecting interest."

Before she kicked the door open, however, she returned his sentiment, and pressed her mouth against his unshaven jaw. "Let's just hope she doesn't break after the first light," she joked, giving him a small wink for good measure, before she got the door open for good.

"I'll see you later, luv." He grinned as he walked away.

It was a good day when Proinsias Cassidy could fix a problem without resorting to drinking and random acts of vandalism. He scratched his beard again and thought about it. It had been the first time he managed to do something like that without fucking the girl right after. Of course, he had wanted to; he wasn't made of fucking granite, but he did need a shower and a shave.

Faye deserved that much. And more.

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