Just Maybe... Ch. 04byLuthienEllesar©
God, you've all been great about my long leave of absence from this story. I'm so, so sorry it took me this long to finish, but a lot of changes have been happening, I got married, and finished up my move, and now my husband and I are trying to find a dog to compliment our hectic life. I hope this chapter lives up to your expectations... it sure took a LONG time to finish! Finally, the sex you've all been waiting for, you wonderfully perverted people.
Please remember, to take the time to vote and leave me feedback. Feedback is what kept me going on this, every time I received an email I grumpily went and wrote another few paragraphs until finally tonight I sat down and finished it. I live off of feedback, so be sure to send it! I love all of you guys, and if I haven't emailed you, I'm sorry, email me again and I promise I'll get back to you this time! Once again, thanks for reading!
The next morning I awoke slowly. I didn't want to wake up. I grumpily turned over, stuffing my face into the pillow and groaning. I shifted my head to one side enough to crack one tired eye open in the general direction of my clock. The large digital screen screamed '12:30 PM' In huge bright letters at me. The clock had been a gift from my father, who, upon hearing my latest excuse of "I didn't get up in time... because I didn't see or hear my clock!" for the millionth time, had gone out and bought me the biggest, loudest clock possible. The next morning, when the screeching alarm had jolted me straight out of bed and practically into the ceiling, my father had been waiting in the doorway with a smirk on his face. Once my consciousness descended back into my body from its terrified state, he grinned and left. I'd never used that excuse again. My sleepy mind managed to recall that memory as I lay in my half sleeping state, and it brought a small smile to my face...until I saw the date on the clock.
"Its SATURDAY!" I squeaked, bolting out of bed and towards the closet. I threw on some camo pants and a tank top, and grabbed a duffel bag in the back of the closet, then ran over to the window, throwing it out quickly. I then proceeded to race down the stairs at a breakneck speed, inciting a surprised bark from my dog, sitting in his usual position at the foot of the stairs.
"Going out with Jules mom!" I yelled, then slammed my way out of the house. I grabbed the duffel from the bushes and sprinted off down the street. My parents didn't know it, but I had a job. I couldn't stand just sitting at home all day doing nothing, and since college wasn't starting for another 4 months, I had to do something. I'd finally found a job downtown at... of all places... a small club called the Kittle Kattle corner. What did I do there? I sang.
I'd loved to sing since I was a little girl. I sang all the time. My ambition my whole life had been to sing professionally... as some sort of pop star. But then again, what girl wouldn't love to do that? Problem was, my voice wasn't phenomenal. It was just good. Not "Oh my god, that girl is amazing sign her up!" Just good. I knew in my heart that if I ever had voice lessons I actually might be something worthwhile, but my parents never let me have them. They knew my secret ambitions and since they considered singing professionally a "unholy" profession, they never allowed me to sing except in church, and never let me take voice. But I'd practiced every chance I could, and finally gotten the job at the club.
The manager knew I wasn't drinking age, and that I shouldn't be in there, but he was so glad to have someone with a decent voice, he didn't care. He even let Roger come in to listen to me sometimes, even though he watched him like a hawk to make sure he didn't get anything alcoholic. It always amused Roger terribly, he'd purposely order some sort of beer or wine, and Mack, the owner, would always bring him Milk or Kool-Aid. I think Mack bought the Kool-Aid just for me and Roger.
My name at the Club was Ria. Different enough from my real name that no one would figure it out, considering my given name was weird enough already. In the duffel bag was my costume, a long strappy green dress, that flowed around my ankles and had a diamond pin set in the front right above my breasts, and another in the back where the halter connected behind my neck. The dress was long and slinky, everything I usually hated in a dress, but I actually liked it. I sang every Saturday night and I loved it.
I finally reached the club, after riding two filthy city buses and taking a cab for the last two miles. Once, while I was in the bus, I saw a huge shadow pass along the windows, but when I and several other people craned our necks out the window, we saw nothing. I shrugged it off to a telephone pole we'd passed, and kept reading my romance novel. I found it was hard to read today, however. My mind was focused more-so on a certain blue skinned person than the trashy novel in front of me. A dreamy smile crossed my face as I thought of the previous night. Makkail had said he might not come tonight, since Saturday nights seemed to be more busy than others, and there was more of a chance he'd be seen, so I needed to savor every moment of the time we'd had.
After paying the cab driver, I raced inside the club. Kerry, the bartender, called a hello to me as I passed by, and I threw one back over my shoulder. I passed Mack on the way into the dressing room, and he gave me a pained look and yelled
"I should fire you for being late!" I grinned, and shot back:
"Go ahead you old wanker!"
Mack always said that when I was late, and he never met it. The man considered me like his own daughter, and never treated me badly.
About 3 hours later, I finally finished my wardrobe. It always took forever to get my makeup, hair, and clothing perfect. About this time, Mack poked his head in. "Hey babe, you look beautiful, alright? Come on, the club's almost full, its time for your first show." I nodded and rose, straightening and brushing the dress off, and walked out with Mack to the stairs leading onto the stage. He gave me a peck on the cheek, like he always did, "for luck". I grinned, patted his shoulder, and holding my dress in my hand so I wouldn't trip, I made my way onto stage. The club hushed as I reached the microphone. I recognized a few of the faces looking up at me, they were regulars that made a point of coming when I was going to sing. I smiled out at the crowd and gestured to the DJ. I opened my mouth, closed my eyes, and the song rolled forth from my lips.
As my voice died down from the last note, and the music rolled to a stop, the club was silent for a moment, then applause erupted. One person stood up while he clapped, and with a happy smile, I recognized Roger. I couldn't resist blowing a kiss at him before I left the stage. A few minutes later, as I sat in my dressing room, waiting until I was supposed to go on for my next song, a knock sounded on the door.
"Come in!" I called. The door opened and Roger's bulk filled the doorway.
"You were great tonight Peanut."
"Rog! Thanks for coming!" I stood up and threw my arms around him. He hugged my back awkwardly.
"Mack wants you back on in five." I nodded.
"I know. He works me hard but I love it." I grinned, and so did Roger.
"I came back to say good job, and goodnight. I gotta go home early, got work tomorrow." I nodded.
"Thanks roger. See you tomorrow sometime?"
"Hopefully. Break a leg peanut."
After Roger left, I went back on stage and finished my act, which consisted of about 4 other songs, and then it was time for me to head home. I wearily trudged out of the bar, after saying good night to Mack, and stood outside, raising my hand to hail a cab. After a few minutes, I decided to walk down to the corner, and hail one from there, so I started walking. As I passed an alley, an arm shot out and circled my waist, pulling me into the alley. I was about to scream, my mind running over the previous days terrifying events, before I realized the arm around my waist was blue. I whirled, and Makkail grinned down at me.
"Makkail!" I jumped up and wrapped my arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. He'd stooped down to hug my waist, and when he stood upright, I was dangling about a foot off the ground. I squealed and tightened my grip on him. He smiled.
"Your singing is lovely little one." My eyes grew wide.
"You heard me?" I squeaked. He nodded.
"I listened in the alley, your voice drifted back through the window. I enjoyed every moment." I looked puzzled.
"How did you know I was here?"
"I followed you this morning." My eyes got even wider.
"Makkail! You can't be out during the day, you know that!" I smacked his shoulder lightly, then remembered my feet were not solidly planted on the ground, and grabbed his neck again. He smiled.
"I kept to the alleys. No one saw me. I had to make sure you'd be safe." I glared, smiled up at him.
"Well... it was terribly sweet of you." He nuzzled my hair.
"Are you going to go to the station now?" He asked, those deep blue eyes staring into mine.
"Station?" I said dreamily, my attention and most of my brain focused on him.
"Yes, the police station, about the owner of the Golden Gate bank, the one thats gone missing." My head cleared suddenly.
"Oh, right. Yes, I'll go now. Marcus should still be there. Well, he will be if I can find a damn cab." I grumbled. Makkail smiled.
"Hang on sweetheart."
"Why?" I said, then squealed as he took a leap into the air, and flew upwards and out of the alley. I tightened my arms around his neck into a death grip,and shut my eyes. After a few moments of terror, I cracked open one eye, and gasped. Everywhere around me there was just... stars. Stars, stars, and more stars. We'd managed to fly above most of the city's lights and glare, and all the stars had revealed themselves in their glory. Straight ahead of us was the moon. Its brightness was amazing. I slowly disconnected one of my arms from Makkail's neck, and reached out, as if to touch the moon... it seemed so close. "Makkail... its so beautiful up here." "Yes, it is." He said quietly, but he wasn't looking at the moon.
He had tried to sleep, really he had. But her face just kept coming back to him... haunting his dreams. Her lips, the way her hair was adorable in that sleepy, mussy way. He'd risked going back, even as dawn spread its fingers across the city, turning everything to gold. He'd managed to keep himself under the air conditioner... but the moment it was dark, he'd shot off to her house, ignoring the alarmingly large numbers of people out on the streets still. He stuck to the shadows, and soon had landed on her windowsill, unlatching the windows and heading inside. It only took him a few seconds, of course, to figure out that she wasn't there, but her scent remained... that wonderful smell of fruit and red flowers, and passion.
He took a few moments to look around her room, something he usually didn't. Simple enough. Four poster wooden bed, a matching nightstand and dresser. Exceedingly fluffy shag carpet, about the only really, really nice thing about the room. Everything was clean and nice, not expensive, but still nice. He liked it. Too many times in his previous life he had secretly wished he could have furniture like this. A strange thought, granted, but when one lives the life of the rich and famous... one becomes accustomed to a certain quality of living.
The high priced furniture was usually uncomfortable, and ugly, but cost thousands upon tens of thousands of dollars simply because some idiotic looking designer had slapped it together and pronounced it "chic." He'd come to realize that most of the designer clothes, furniture, and jewelry out there was just a big sham. You could buy something that was just as good, and would function just as well, for so much less at a department store. Why bother? Just for some flamboyant designers name on it?
Makkail sighed, and continued his contemplation of Aria's living space. He moved to her dresser, and picked up the photos on the top. Here was one in a silver frame, of her surrounded by a group of smiling men and women her own age... must be her friends. And another, this one of a serious looking red haired man... must be her father. Makkail smiled. He got the feeling that he'd like Aria's father. He looked like the kind that would question him and be suspicious for a very, very long time, but not because he was mean, or overprotective... but because he genuinely cared for his daughter. Ah. Here was a picture of her mother. Her, Makkail just knew he wouldn't like. Her mouth pinched together in a horrible frown that tried to pass as a smile, and her eyes held nothing but contempt. What she hated so much, Makkail didn't know.
With a sigh, he put the pictures down and reached for the next thing on her dresser... a bottle of perfume. Ah. Here was the source of that lovely smell that always lingered on her skin and drove him crazy. Victoria's Secrets Passionate Kisses. Red, of course. And such an apt name. The scent certainly made him think of passionate kisses... it made him think of planting them all over her body, especially... With a soft grunt, Makkail turned his thoughts from there, and put the perfume down.
Behind him, the door suddenly pushed open, and Makkail turned with lightning speed, ready to make a run for the window... but a long black nose poked around the corner, followed by a pair of blue eyes. The family dog. Makkail grinned, then sat down on the edge of the bed, and patted his knee. The huge animal amiably trotted over, showing no signs of hostility, and even deigned to lay a massive paw on Makkail's blue skinned knee.
"Hey there buddy." Makkail said softly, running his hands gently over the animals big head. The big Malamute whined softly and rubbed his head against Makkail's hands.
Makkail had always been puzzled by dog's reactions to him. The wings and skin color didn't seem to bother them a bit, rather they empathized with him, and sometimes he almost felt they could read his mind and vice versa. Makkail grinned down at Aria's big dog.
"Don't suppose you could tell me where she went, could you?" The dog cocked his head to the side, then whined again, and trotted to Aria's closet. He nosed around for a moment, then emerged triumphantly with a torn up brochure in his hand. Makkail looked at it, reading the clubs name and location.
"Is she here?" The dog barked, and nudged Makkail towards the window. The blue skinned demon grinned at the dog, patted his head, and took off out of the window, heading downtown. When he reached the club, the moment he landed behind it, he coincidentally heard someone faintly announce
"Miss Aria Moll." A few moments later, a crystal clear voice rang out, drifting out to his ears faintly, the tones gently assaulting his ears with music. He listened to the entire song, once almost getting a tear in his eye, and added his own silent standing ovation at the end of her song. He stayed and listened to every note that spilled from her lips for the rest of the evening, then waited outside for another half hour before she came out. He grabbed her and pulled her into the alley. Her frightened squeak was not what he expected, but before he could console her, he almost burst out laughing at the cutely indignant look on her face. He hugged her, then straightened up, swinging her up into the air in his arms.
She seemed to fit perfectly against his chest. Cliché as it may sound, she did. Her curves molded into his, and for a few seconds, he really felt that they were one person... one soul. He conversed with her absently, his mind only half on the conversation, mostly on idiotic things like how her hair shone in the dim city lights, or how the muted colors on her face made her skin look like porcelain... when he picked her up to fly her to the station, he was once again reminded how light she was in comparison to himself, or anything else he usually had to lift, which wasn't much. Gods above she was beautiful. Her faults, few as they were, were just cute to him. Maybe not to other people, but he simply adored her freckles. He scooped her up, and flew her to the station, thanking anyone above listening for her welcome addition to his life.
A few moments later we landed behind a building about a block from the station.
"Alright, I'll go talk to Marcus, you stay here." Makkail nodded and kissed my forehead before letting me go. I smiled at him and headed out onto the street and from there to the station. I walked up to the desk and leaned on it.
"I need to see Marcus, he's in the detective division." The lady behind the desk nodded and picked up the phone.
"And your name is?" She asked me, while dialing numbers on the phone.
"Aria." I said, leaning over the counter. "I'm a friend of his." The woman nodded and waited for a few moments, then spoke into the phone.
"Detective? A young woman by the name of Aria is here too....Yes I'll ask." The woman had a puzzled look on her face when she turned back to me..
"He said to tell you if you're still crazy and if you're wearing camo pants, to go right back." I grinned and nodded, slapping my hand lightly on the counter and walking back towards Marcus's office. I opened the door and grinned.
"Still doing everything BUT working, huh Marcus?" The black haired young man behind the desk grinned.
"Still wearing those idiotic camo's?" I laughed and hugged the detective as he came around the desk to give me a hug back.
Marcus and I had met, as cliché as this may sound, at a crime scene. I had been at the supermarket, and two men had held it up. I had hit the ground like all the rest of the people. The police had arrived, and immediately gotten one of them to drop their gun. The other had been hiding behind a shelf of goods, and I had turned my head just as he was about to jump out and point a gun at Marcus, one of the detective's on the scene. I was out of the criminals line of vision, so I'd managed to get up and jump the guy before he could shoot Marcus. I'm not a brave person. I just can't stand the loss of life. Marcus had come up to me after the scene had been secured and he'd thanked me. The next night he'd called me to ask me to come give a report, and we'd just clicked. Ever since then, anytime I needed any type of legal advice or help, Marcus had been there to help. Now, I was more glad of him than ever. After hugging me, he pulled back and perched on the edge of the cheap wooden desks the department spat out for their officers.
"What's up Aria?"
"Marcus, I have a tip for you. And this is going to sound REALLY weird. But I have information for you from a confidential source. I know who kidnapped the Owner of the Golden Gate Bank." Up until then, Marcus's expression had been one of kind interest, as if he thought I was going to give him a tip on a lost kitten or something. Now his eyes grew wide.
"Aria... are you sure? Who? What proof do you have?" Marcus shot the questions at me until I held up my hand.
"Whoa Marcus, one at a time. Yes, I'm sure, Mike Wallace, and I don't have any proof. I just know." Marcus's eyes grew wider.
"Mike Wallace, the local slum lord and crime boss?" I nodded.
"That's the one."
"Aria, how do you know about this?"
"I told you Marcus, I can't tell you."
"Aria, you've asked me some crazy favors in the last two years, but nothing like this. You do realize it'll be my ass on the line... are you positive about this?"
"Completely. My knowledge is from an intimate source."
"And you absolutely CAN'T tell me?"
"No Marcus. I promised." Marcus sighed at my response.
"Damn you and your silly little honor code." He smiled fondly at me and ruffled my hair, at which I squeaked and started trying to smooth it down.