It felt like he was being dragged back into a much simpler time, where a whole different set of problems plagued them. And just as they would do back then, their dynamic didn’t change, and neither did their habits. They would lose themselves in each other, seeking the abyss where thoughts didn’t exist, and all they could do was feel something real for once.
Her words did nothing but add dry kindling to the coals that smoldered in his belly, the ones he’d been fighting to keep a tight lid on. But they wrapped around him, those strained pleadings for deliverance, and the kiss that begged. They ripped the lid off the smothered flame, flooding it with oxygen, and the fire was no longer contained, but an explosive blaze that poured through him. “Yes, ma’am,” he growled, deep and hungry, as his hands fell to his hips pulling her tight. Automatically, his movements became rough and intense, his teeth scraping across her neck as he backed her up against his truck, fingertips slipping beneath her shirt to press into hot skin.
As his hands blindly sought the door handle, his lips found hers, a low rumble of desire in the back of his throat as he kissed her hard. This wasn’t the slow kisses that paused at closed lips and politely requested permission for entrance. Jax didn’t ask. He took. Edging on more teeth than lips, more biting and devouring than actual kissing, he yanked open the door of the cab. “Not out here, in,” he urged, guiding and lifting her into the cab, nudging her to slide back on the seat as he climbed in after her, eyes nearly predatory as he took in the sight of her body on the bench seat of his truck.
The change in Jaxon’s demeanor was swift, Avery feeling it more than seeing it. He was normally so stoic and reserved, the picturesque image of a Southern Gentleman, but like this, he was the polar opposite - pushing, pulling, taking rather than asking permission. This was pure, raw emotion - in moments like these, they became infinite. There were no social norms to live up to, no jobs or people to worry about - just the two of them and the way their bodies moved together towards a common goal. She knew the words would get his attention, knew that she poking the sleeping bear - but she wanted, needed this too damn much to care about anything else. When everything else was spinning out of control, she needed this to ground her in reality, to keep her from living her life in the clouds of impossibility. Her back hit the cold exterior of his truck, but she felt herself rising towards him, craving the human contact and familiar heat above, around, within her.
Teeth clashed against teeth, hands gripping at shirt edges, pulling and tearing in an effort to remove the barriers separating them. "Not out here, in.", she heard him growl at her, as she scrambled into the cab, giving him room to climb in next to her - the predatory look in his eyes awakening parts of her that had lain dormant for so long. As soon as he shut the door behind him, she was on him like white on rice, reclaiming her all-too familiar seat on his lap, trying to ignore the way their bodies fit together like two pieces of a puzzle. As impatient as ever, her hips moved against his, a carnal grin spreading across her face as her fingers fumbled with the buttons on his shirt. ”Off. Now.” - If he wanted to be demanding, she could match him move for move.
"They were jus’ jealous my CI was beautiful and brilliant, an’ all theirs were either disgruntled henchman, or cracked out hobos," he laughed, leaning forward onto his knees, and rubbing at the back of his neck. The past was a funny thing, but that part of their past… It was a mix of emotions, and while they only spoke of the lighter memories right now, he couldn’t help but feel the pang of strife that came from that period in their history.
Emotions had always been too raw for the both of them, but recently, Jaxon was trying harder to work through his. Jaxon had learned to speak his mind, speak what he was feeling, lest it come out way too late. But Avery’s gaze had this way of reverting him, and just as she fidgeted and shied away from his honesty, he couldn’t help but do the same. And bless her heart, ever the one to make a joke to ease them out of that thicket. He chuckled low, rolled his eyes and nudged her playfully. “Ya little shit,” but he gave her a sweet smile, a silent affirmation of what he offered her, knowing she understood, even as she brushed it off. Regardless, he allowed himself to fall into the joking that was much easier than the rebuilding of their underlying issues. “Jus’ think how great my ass would look in tights,” he grinned, laughing easy. “What!? Ya mean I can’t be the furry Superman?” he gave an exaggerated pout at her. And when she poked him, he couldn’t help but huff out the breath of air he was holding and fall into deep laughters. “Well… ‘m not sure my voice can get high enough ta do his little squeal. An’ ‘m pretty sure the Doughboy didn’t have a deep voice. Oh god… Doughboy with Samuel L. Jackson’s voice,” he disolved again into deep laughs that rumbled through his chest.
"That’s a valid point - I’m sure the hobos on day 37 of a two month meth binge probably lose their appeal at some point. Wait, wait, wait - beautiful and brilliant? Oooh, Jaxon, you better watch the way you dole out those compliments, I might get to used to ‘em again.”, the words meant to be a joke, but the full weight of the memories behind them landed squarely upon her shoulders. When anyone else had said those words, they were just that: words, devoid of any meaning. Jaxon had a way of making her believe it was true though, that maybe she was beautiful and maybe she was smart. His optimistic honesty had been one of the harder things for her to let go of during his more recent absence.
The shrinks had told her that closing herself off, “compartmentalizing” things, was detrimental to her mental well-being, but it was the only way she knew how to live. For so many years, she had to block off emotion to protect that little bit of human being that was left within. Jaxon, however, saw past all of that - even now. He knew that behind the tough exterior was the little girl who was still terrified of thunderstorms or the woman who cried at sappy romance movies. The shields that Avery had grown so used to throwing up around other people, the impenitrable walls were in fact penetrable by one thing: Jaxon. ”Before I would have said yes, but now….I dunno, I think you might be getting a little flabby in your old age, man.”, she grinned, poking at his sides, having known that most men Jaxon’s age were a bit insecure about their age. ”and no furry Superman - It just doesn’t work for you.”
"I’m sure you could get that squeal going if you needed to. Remember when you were halfway through a shower one winter back in the city and the hot water went out? It sounded like you were going through puberty all over again. Oh good God - ‘I’m sick of these muthafuckin’ criminals in my muthafuckin’ city."
"An’ ya wondered why the guys gave me such a hard time fer keepin’ ya ‘round," he rolled his eyes and laughed in reminiscence, mirroring the gentle smile on Avery’s lips. He was glad for this moment, the slightest glimpse, no matter how fleeting, that told him all was not lost for the pair. There was still hope.
“No, no… Yeah. Not askin’ for anythin’. ‘Course. I totally understand. I jus’… Jus’ don’t want ya thinkin’, feelin’ alone… ‘Cause…” he paused, looking up at her with firm eyes. As hard as this was for them, this was important, and with the state Jax was in, he needed Avery to be taken care of. His hand wrapped around hers, the one picking at the sheets. He skimmed his thumb over her knuckles, “Yer not alone, DQ.” He nodded, releasing her hand and leaning back before the moment became too much for either of them. Instead the attention was turned back to him, and he fidgeted, chuckling slightly as the ever ready joke rolled off her lips. “Oh yeah. Jus’ missin’ the tights, huh? Although, I could get behind the cape,” he quirked a brow, before setting his fits on his hips, and puffing out his chest in true superman fashion. He just wanted to make her laugh.
"Well, Jaxon - in all honesty, there were quite a few reasons why they gave you shit for that. It could have been that, it could have been the whole ‘but she’s a prostitute’ thing…there was a variety of reasons.", she grinned, remembering the looks that the other detectives used to shoot at her when she walked into the room. Jaxon, ever the defender, would always sort of shoo them away, eager to protect his….well, whatever she had been to him.
Her eyes flicked up to his, seeing understanding and something else, something she had never quite been able to put her finger on but something that felt familiar and welcome all the same. His hand wrapped over hers in that same comforting gesture that they had used on each other countless times before. It steadied her, grounded her in reality instead of letting her hide away in her own mind. ”Yeah, how could I be alone with all of these damned nurses hovering over one of the ‘tube bombing’ victims?” She replied, staring at one of the nurses walking by and making the ‘I’m watching you’ gesture with her hand. ”And here I was thinking the whole point of a cape was that it got behind you, not the other way around. The tights though, I think you could rock those. You might have to shave your legs first though.”, she chuckled at his exagerated posture, “If I poke you in the belly right now, will you laugh like the pillsbury doughboy?”, leaning over, she poked him in the stomach, forcing him to exhale or laugh.
"Well god damn, would ya look at that. Gonna kinda miss bailin’ ya outta jail. The look on yer face. A mix of "fuck you, jail", "i’m sorry", and "let’s go home." It was cute," he laughed softly at the memory.
Jax paused, mulling over the words he was about to say. “Avery… I know we still got shit ta handle… But…. I’m here, ya know? For you… If ya want. I still care about ya. I was a fuckin’ moron, and an ass, and I get if yer still pissed at me. But… I’m still here, like I was before.” He peeked up at her, sheepish concern written all over his face. Clearing his throat, he scratched roughly at the back of his neck and looked away. “‘m fine, yeah? See. Right as rain. Jus’… Jus’ another day on the job. Done emergency response before. Nothin’ big,” he smiled at her, a weak one, one she would see through, but he tried none-the-less.
"Yeah, I’ll kind of miss it too. The look on the holding officers face when I organized everyone else in the cell to back me up - it was always pretty funny.", she laughed too, feeling more at ease with Jaxon than she had in awhile - but wasn’t sure if it was that or the pain killers.
She got quiet, almost pulling into herself to protect what little of her there was left. ”Hell, I know that…it’s just…I was never very good at this, remember? I appreciate the offer, and will keep it in mind. I can’t give you much more than that right now, I’m sorry.” Her eyes moved to her hands, picking at the invisible dust on the stiff hospital blankets. The tension grew thick in the small room, neither of them ever having been comfortable when it came to discussing emotions. A nod in his direction, Ave wanted to push, to pull him out of that dark corner in his mind - but knew that much like herself, that would just make him recede even further. ”Well, shit Jaxon Sawyer - the superman for the everyday working man.” she cracked, trying to lighten the air.
"Anymore, huh? Ya little rebel. I’ll make sure homicide or assault isn’t added to yer rap sheet."
"Blast like that… Pretty jarrin’," he murmured softly as he watched her touch the bandage, watching carefully for any flinch of pain. "Yer a fighter, Ave. I know ya don’t feel like it sometimes. But ya are," his voice was soft, fond as he attempted to reassure her. But the attention was turned on him. "Nah, nah. Jus’ a little burn, a cut, some stitches. Nothin’ bad at all. Hush," he brushed off quickly, not wanting to think about his condition at all.
"Nope, not anymore. It just became more cost-effective to control my temper. I’m all growed up now, Jaxon."
"Jarring, sure. But I’ve taken harder hits than that and walked away just fine. It’s…..just going to take a little bit longer than it used to, that’s all. I’ll be right as rain in no time at all.", her voice cracked out, trying to plaster an encourage smile onto her face as she had become so accustomed to doing around other people. "Eh, burns will fade, cuts will heal, and eventually the stiches will disappear too - but I think we both know I wasn’t necessarily talking about the physical, Jax." her eyes met his, saying things with a glance that neither of them were able to put into words.
Well I promise not ta poke yer noggin. And I’ll stave off anyone that tries too.
That sounds… painful. Shit… ‘m jus’ glad ya weren’t hurt worse. ‘m sorry ya were there though. Shit. Besides physical, everythin’ else okay? Don’t hit me, I know I sound like a nurse. ‘M just concerned. Indulge me for one sec, and then I’ll shut up. Okay?
"The effort is much appreciated, wasn’t really in the mood to be taken off to jail for snapping on one of them. I don’t allot for bail money in my budget anymore…"
"It more stunned me than anything, didn’t even know there was any damage until one of the medics made me sit down and get checked out.", she replies, fingers gently touching along the edge of the fresh bandage when she catches sight of a bandage peaking out from the edge of Jaxon’s shirt. "Nah, you don’t sound like a nurse. You sound more like one of the shrinks, who are just going to love getting this update call. I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m fine. You, on the other hand….you took a bit of a beating there, Sawyer.”
The one time. The one-goddamned-time I decided to use the underground instead of walking and it gets fucking blown up. The doctors said I should be fine, but with head injuries, you can’t be too safe. So, for the next 24 hours, it’s just me, the nurses, and the woman in the bed next to mine, who is long overdue for a change of bedpans.
French Maid - Nah, not really. What matters is how that person uses it. If you know what you’re doing, I could care less about size.
Gossip - Not typically. In my line of work, discretion is key. If I ran around telling everyone who I was sleeping with, I run the risk of destroying their reputation, as well as mine, and losing a potential repeat customer.
Anything you could ever want to ask your favorite muses...IN BED! All of the things you were dying to ask, but weren't sure how to ask! All of the things you didn't want to know, but want to ask anyway!
Tie me, Bite me:Name a kink.
That's Naughty:Name something you would want to try in bed, but won't.
That's Nice:Name something you want to try in bed and will.
Self Torture:What do you like to masturbate to?
Wine and Dine:Is it important to have a nice prelude before having relations?
Sweet Kisses:Are you a good kisser?
Tasty:Chocolate? Whipped cream? Do you use food with sex?
Two's a crowd and three's a party!:Have you participated in a threesome? Any more than three? Would you be interested in inviting more people?
Swinger:Ever traded partners before?
BJ:Swallow or spit? What do you prefer?
Porn Collection:Do you watch porn? Do you make your own porn?
Vibrator:Use any toys? Have a favorite?
Tempo:Sweet and slow or hard and fast?
Secret Lover:Describe someone you lust after. No names!
Washing Machine:Ever do it in a weird place before?
Sheets:Are silk sheets sexy?
Thong Song:Do you like sexy lingerie?
Flavor:What's your orientation?
Turn On:Name a turn on.
Turn Off:Name a turn off.
Frequency:How many times do you have relations in a week?
Heart and Soul:Is love important when you have sex?
Good Morning:Do you partake in morning sex?
French Maid:Do you roleplay in bed?
Mood:How do you create the mood? Favorite atmosphere?
So I tried to write Avery out into a timeline - things that happened before London, things that happened while she was in London, and what is happening for her now. This is more or less for me to keep track of it all, but if you want to read it and try to figure out if your characters would fit in with her, help yourselves.
I think today, I’m going to be doing a bit of a character overhaul on Avery. I love her and I love where she’s at, the plots she has going, etc. - but in my head, she’s a big jumbled mess. I’ve had her for over a year now, and so much has happened that I’m not entirely certain where she’s at right now.
I’ll be making another post later to clear somethings up, and will let you know there if anything huge changes.
But if we still have plots going, they’ll probably still be occurring.
Well there we have it. I’ll be happy to tell Human Resources that I finally have a new assistant. The last one turned out to be very good, but very dead. Unfortunate car accident. I wasn’t prepared to find anyone else because I was convinced there wasn’t anyone else. — Happy to know I’m wrong. Now don’t worry you won’t be fetching any coffees, unless you want to of course. No, you’ll be working closely with me when I go on my little adventures I like to call business meetings and learn all there is to know about import and export. Then there’s the covert side business I was talking about. Well we’ll see how you handle the first job and move on from there.
Well, that sounds rather…..unfortunate. Car accidents do have a tendency of mucking everything up. I’m glad to fill the void - hopefully I live up to your expectations. Oh, I don’t have a problem fetching the occasional coffee, so long as it doesn’t become an all of the time thing. You mention learning the ins and outs of import and export - I feel my talents could be better used there, as well as your James Bond-esque covert business.
I’m sure with time, I’ll be able to prove my worth to this company.
Exactly why I work fro myself now. It’s nice having subordinates and it’s even nicer making my own decisions. I wouldn’t worry, though. I would never think of stifling your sense of independence. Your name is Avery after all. You’re meant to fly. However, every bird needs a direction to fly in, I would be properly bragging if I said I could provide such a direction.
And we wouldn’t want that, would we?
Making your own decision is really the only way to go these days. You know, someone once told me that ‘Some birds aren’t meant to be caged - their feathers are just too bright’. Now imagine my relief at being told that there is a position out there waiting for me that provides such an environment. Sign me up - and point me in that direction.
Of course not. The more creative people left in the world, the merrier, mmm?
We share similar views Avery. It is quite a shame that you’re getting back into your old business. I might have an opening at my company that could be filled with the likes of you.
It’s never a bad thing having an imagination because soon enough that leads to it taking flight.
Ah, but therein lies the joy in being my own boss. I can leave the business again whenever I please - especially if a more tempting offer comes along. I do quite enjoy having no rules to live by but my own, but something tells me you’re just the type of man I wouldn’t mind being employed by.
That’s a valid point. After all, without my wild imagination, I might be just like all of these other poor dullards.
…You know what? I like you. Too many times have I found people that have a hard-on for this city. It’s only a city. And at that, it’s a shell of its former self. Really the whole world could do with some general rearranging and I bet my bottom dollar London would be the shining beacon of innovation if someone were to be so bold.
If I know you, I bet your imagination is quite active.
Too true. They grasp at this city, as if one little change is going to be what shatters who they are as a person - get a grip, people. It’s a shame to watch a city that once burned so brightly flicker as the flame goes out. People once looked at London for it’s glory, but now….they avoid it like the plague, too afraid of having their pocketbooks stolen.
Oh, it’s….something, alright. I have a tendency of letting it run away with me, need to keep it in check sometimes.