[Izzy Montoya] [123 notme!]
[John Thornton] ((Bah!))
[Izzy Montoya] (hehehh!)
[John Thornton] As a light breath of warm wind, warm by comparison to recent days, spilled in from the west, and the moon tried in vain to shine down through a thick bank of cloud cover, a black Crown Victoria pulls to a stop in a parking space within a parking garage near Izzy’s apartment.
After a few moments, the engine stops its lolling rumble, and the door to the car opens. A man walks from it, a man whose hair was a furrowed mop of brown, whose dark socketted hazel eyes looked gray in the dim lighting. A black trench coat swayed ever so briefly with the wind, as he makes his way to the front.
In the lobby, he makes his way to the elevators… The doorman gets a simple nod in greetings. Then, after pressing the button and a short ride up to the correct floor… John finds himself standing before Izzy’s doorway with a stack of manila envelopes in one hand. He knocks upon the door and waits beyond.
[Izzy Montoya] “Yeah, just a sec!” The call comes from inside, followed by a couple curses and loud… gunfire? Simulated of course. Izzy drops the controller to the xBox on the coffee table, and makes her way to the door. She peeks through the peephole, and then unlocks and opens the door.
She leans against the doorframe, her smirk familiar, and a good deal warmer than usual as she drags her eyes over him, taking in every detail, including those folders. Her dress is clearly one intending to stay in for the night – boxers, a tank top, and a silken robe overtop, open and untied, feet bare.
“Hey.” She pushes the door open the rest of the way and steps back so he can enter. Then, with a chuckle, she teases, “Paperwork overload?”
[John Thornton] “You could say that.”
John nods, his lips widening into that wan not-a-smile, turning sideways to avoid wiping Izzy out with the stack of files. Upon entering, he makes his way to her dining room table, and places the files there with a relieved sigh.
A curious brow rises upon his forehead as he considers the screen of her television.
“Are the ones you’re shooting at all named Daniel?”
[Izzy Montoya] She closes the door after he enters, flipping the locks automatically, before she follows him to the table. She snorts, and nods. “Yeah. Had our weekly interrogation last night. Figured if I shot him virtually, I might not tear him fucking apart.”
Easier said than done, naturally – but it’s hard as hell to survive a three round burst at point blank to the temple, even if your a ragehead, right?
She eyes that stack of files and folders, while a hand reaches to slight lightly over the small of his back. A light tough, familiar, and oddly enough, almost tentative. So much was said last time, she’s almost shy about reaching for him now.
And the game, again. “Couple named Kemp and Joe too. Just to keep things real.”
[John Thornton] “That good, huh?”
John slips off the trench, and after folding it longwise, lays it on the back of a free chair. Then, untying his dress shoes and slipping out of the shoulder holster, he leaves the former by the table and the latter on the table, before walking over to where Izzy was.
Hazel eyes seemed a pine green hue in the lighting of her apartment… John loosens his navy blue silk tie from about his neck, and after unbuttoning his collar, begins rolling up his sleeves. His expression is a mixture of question and concern.
“What did they say?”
[Izzy Montoya] “Yeah.”
She flops on the couch again, and watches as he makes himself at home, her eyes lingering on his a long moment, before she watches his hands loosen his tie, unbutton the collar, roll up his sleeves. She’s unaware of the little smile that tugs at the corner of her lips, as she’s surely turn it into a more natural smirk if she knew it was there.
But back to the question as she drags her hand through her hair. “Ran into Kemp first – so I asked him your questions about kin and mating and such. It was pretty much as I’d said – they’re still above us, better than us, yadda yadda me wolfman hear me roar. But he did say that he would honor our wishes, and make sure no one else tried to claim us for as long as we were together. He expressed worry that the” and here she mimics the rotegar with a smirk “darkness within us would grow as we shared pillows…” she rolls her eyes, and chuckles. “But added that he hoped we’d grow together, strong for the Nation instead.”
A beat. “He said he’d talk to Daniel… he and I are supposed to have a meeting with him anyway.”
[John Thornton] When John reaches the couch, he takes a seat right beside her… Close enough that their legs touched. He rests a hand on her knee…
“Darkness within us…”
John shakes his head, scrubbing a hand through furrowed brown hair.
“They kill us and elicit a slap on the wrist, and we’re the ones with darkness within us…”
After a moment, he adds.
“I don’t know that I’ll ever understand them.”
[Izzy Montoya] Her knee is warm under his hand, the apartment kept comfortable for her choice in at home attire – namely, not much. She reaches and slides her hand under his, lacing their fingers together as she shifts her weight slightly to lean against him.
“I know.” She watches his hand in hers her thumb tracing his lightly. “Kemp doesn’t blame you for that, for trying to kill Wahya. He understands were it came from, and I think he really blames the other tribe who… just handled everything so badly. More so than you, anyway.”
A snort. “Daniel, on the other hand…” She just shakes her head, slightly. “But even he supports us being together, and said he’d argue it before Kemp if needed. Course, he didn’t know I’d already taken it to him. He thinks we stabilize each other. Cuz you know I’m a total basketcase with a gun when you’re not around…”
[John Thornton] John shakes his head and almost laughs at this. It’s a sound he hasn’t made in an eternity, not in a very long time. A sound he doesn’t make tonight, though nearly so…
“Kemp… I think Kemp would like to kill me. I suspect… someday, he may make good on that desire.”
John says it like saying he would visit the dentist. No emotion, no fear or anger, just… observation.
“As for Daniel… I’m surprised he isn’t of like mind with Kemp. Joe certainly seemed to be.”
[Izzy Montoya] She snorts. “Joe’s a fuckin’ raciest asshole. Should have seen his gape mouthed stun when I promised Kemp that if anyone could help you find a stable place in kinfolk society it would be me.” There’s amusement weaving through the words, as he knows damn well she did some fancy fast talk to ensure she would get what she wants. She’s becoming quite adept at telling them what they want to hear, and making them believe it.
“But Kemp… he thinks. More than the other two. Granted, it’s in small tiny burst but at least he does think.”
And Daniel. She just shakes her head, slightly, before letting it rest against his shoulder. “I can’t wait to be free of him. He was with an uppity fang bitch when I got there – and she busted me on attending the Coalition meetings.”
[John Thornton] At this, John’s brows knit, a gaze of pine hue turns to slate gray shades as the dark socketted eyes narrow.
“So… They took a narrow minded view to the idea of Kin organization…”
John sighs a long suffering sigh, as though one who sees the road ahead and while resolved to travel it, has some idea the trials and trepidations he faces in the passage.
A moment passes… Two… John’s gaze turns to Izzy.
“Izzy… I… I may not be good for you. If I am voted to chair the coalition, if in that office, I do something to which they take issue… They might decide you as complicit in the deed as I was in the execution thereof. They might punish you just for being with me.”
He squeezes her hand briefly, tilting his head to lay it atop hers. When he continues, his voice is quiet, sincere… and at the same time, almost afraid. Not for himself, however…
“I wouldn’t fault you, if knowing that, you didn’t want this anymore…”
[Izzy Montoya] She doesn’t answer at first, not for a few moments, and when she does, it’s to clarify, first, what was said. “I fast talked my way out of trouble for attending the meetings – they didn’t violate the rules, after all. The first was before all this bullshit, the second was after my days were returned to me. I gave Daniel a direct quote of Danicka’s wishes for the coalition, what she says it will be. After he stopped bellowing at me for not telling him, demanding to know why and then claiming those reasons were just excuses – he said that it might be a good thing. As long as it didn’t get out of hand.”
She looks up at him and offers that lopsided smirk, briefly. “And I am charged to lead you and the kin in the right direction.” She returns her head to his shoulder and adds. “I’m only to walk out if Leyna arrives. It’s her or me, when it comes to the Coalition. I think he expects for me to eject her or something. He finds her ‘ridiculous’.”
And then, then he tries to get her to see hes not good for her… again. She’s quiet, for a long time, and then, firmly. “Quit trying to push me away. I’m not going anywhere.” A beat, and softer still… “What Daniel did, and has done, is far from the worst I’ve suffered through, John. I’m no delicate flower – and if I’m to be punished, I can’t think of a better reason than for being with you.”
She doesn’t ask him what he’s planning, though she knows he has something in mind. She doesn’t push. Not yet.
[John Thornton] John nods, and upon hearing the firmness of her tone, the wan not a smile returns… Resignation to her decision apparent, in spite of whatever misgivings he has about his own suitability. His tone is light as he answers…
“Okay… Just don’t be surprised if you find dirty socks in places other than the clothes hamper. You have been warned.”
Then, turning his head, he kisses her lightly on the forehead and squeezes her hand briefly yet again.
“I just… don’t want you hurt, because of me.”
His tone turns more sincere now, more vulnerable… Until he again glances at the television.
“So, what are we playing tonight?”
[Izzy Montoya] She chuckles and looks up at him. “…you think I actually put my clothes in a hamper?! Oh boy, are you going to be surprised…” A beat – and then. “I hope you can cook, else we might starve.” She sounds serious – and she is. The girl cannot cook to save her life. She survives on takeout…
She lifts his hand, and presses her lips against his skin, before she looks up at him again. “I’ve been hurt far worse because of the Nation, than you could ever worry about causing. The Nation owes me. They owe me you.”
Then, what are they playing? She grins as she doesn’t even look at the television. “Strip poker.”
[John Thornton] And now John does laugh, as she describes him to himself. A hamper and take out… It was a tentative sound, as though something he had indeed not done in a very long time, as though it was something unfamiliar… And in spite of the strained nature of the sound, it almost seemed as though a year or two of weight dropped from about his shoulders as he made it.
“Strip poker? You’re on.”
John smiles that not-a-smile, kissing her on the forehead again.
“But I refuse to play sober.”
He smelled of tobacco and gun oil, and faintly of men’s aftershave, and his touch was warm and gentle. He didn’t speak to what the Nation owed them, owed him…
Loss would be for another night. Too few were these moments that he truly enjoyed, and John had every intention of relishing every last second. Twice now, he had learned the hard way what wasting even one moment could mean.
[Izzy Montoya] .
to Izzy Montoya
[Izzy Montoya] He laughs, and something in her relaxes at the sound, and she melts against him with a little smile of her own. It’s strained, that laugh, but it exists – and that’s more than she’s seen from him since she came home.
“Good thing I’ve got whiskey and beer in the kitchen then, isn’t it?” Though she shifts her position, quickly, and turns to straddle his lap, releasing his hand so her’s can slide around the back of his neck. “Unfortunately, I haven’t a single deck of cards. Maybe we should just skip the poker part all together…”
He smells… of himself. Comforting scents of tobacco and gun oil, with his aftershave under it all. She, freshly showered after her shift, smells of lilacs – shampoo and body lotion, and the beer she’d finished off before he arrived.
Loss can wait for another night. She knows of his – and maybe, someday, she’ll tell him of hers if he asks. But for now – there’s a pile of paperwork they can pretend to be doing…
[John Thornton] John smiles and nods…
“Cards really aren’t what I had in mind when I dropped by tonight.”
As she straddles him, John’s arms wrap around her to hold her tight… And pull her just a little bit more into his lap. He can’t help himself… He can’t seem to help but want her. And being so close, having her so close… Just exacerbated the feeling.
An all too characteristic bulge starts to grow in his lap, and strangely, it’s neither phone nor keys nor anything else remotely close to his pockets.
“Izzy…”
He says her name quietly, almost in a whisper, and stares into her eyes with that pine hued gaze…
[Izzy Montoya] He pulls her tight and her breath catches, and falls into a soft moan. Her fingers slide up into his hair at the nape of his neck, and she searches his gaze, his smile. There’s no doubt that he wants her – a curl of her hips against him encourages him in that, evidence that she wants him too.
It’s always been him. That they waited so long only seems to increase the desire, burning always under her skin, easily stoked to a full fire. Her name on his lips, a soft whisper, and she moistens her lips with the tip of her tongue as she lets her fingers trace his lips, before she finally leans in and replaces her touch with her kiss.
She doesn’t close her eyes, not at first, instead drowning in his, her own dark gaze shining with something so rarely seen, so rarely known, before it’s closed away under the sweep of dark lashes falling along her cheeks. There’s a happy sigh across his lips, her own parting to invited him in, opening to him as easily as petals to sunlight.
There is no doubt – paperwork and cards haven’t been on her mind since the moment she saw him at her door.
[John Thornton] They kiss, his lips meeting hers warmly, his hips pressing against hers firmly… His eyes shining with intensity and excitement. As her lips part, his do as well, his tongue finding hers and dancing with it, serpentining around it. His hands drop from her back to her butt, giving it a gentle, suggestive squeeze…
Before moving up to her back again… sliding under the cotton of the tank top.
[Izzy Montoya] She smiles across his lips, her breath catching as he presses up into her and their kiss deepens. When his hands slide under the cotton of her tank top, she pulls her hands from him to ditch the robe, and toss it aside, before nimble fingers tug at his tie, loosening it and then sending it away with a negligent toss as well as she goes to work on the buttons of his shirt, trembling a little under the slide of his fingers across her skin.
The last they were here, there were rules. There are no rules now- not even the thought of them. There’s only John, only herself, and the simple joy found in his touch.
[Izzy Montoya] .
to Izzy Montoya
[John Thornton] She pulls at his, tie, and John just smiles that wan not-a-smile, as his hands brush past the sensitive flesh of her breasts. His hands were warm, his touch very gentle. As she begins working on his shirt, gooseflesh grows upon his skin… Prickling with excitement as their kiss becomes a deep and passionate thing.
Still, inwardly, a part of him was somewhat afraid. They had no rules now…
This could mean what it was going to mean.
That thought was terrifying, given the past…
[Izzy Montoya] Her breath catches, and falls free in a soft moan. She has never hidden her reactions to physical touch, to sensation. She is a wanton and free lover, one who expresses her appreciation with ease… though there’s so much more to this, to being with him, and they both know it.
There are no rules.
They are both afraid.
She breaks the kiss, breathlessly, as she pushes his shirt open, and untucks the t-shirt beneath to get at his skin. Her fingers are warm, her touch soft, gentle, as she kisses along his jaw and murmurs softly across his ear. “I’m scared too. But I’m not going anywhere, John. I am yours for the taking – for as long as you want me.”