Sparking the Pavement

by wumpusandzandii

Summary:

Fortune favors the bold, and when Raphael wanders out of his normal perimeters to look for motorcycle parts, he finds more than he bargained for. Introduction to Stacey Matthews. How long can Raph keep his Nightwatcher activities a secret from those he cares about?

Chapter 1: Bike Shop

Standing between the parts shelves, Stacey lip synced to the rock music blaring through the shop, busying herself with stocking the shelves with the parts order that had come in that day. Her brunette ponytail swung behind her, as she let herself get into the song, not worried about anyone seeing her. Mondays were slow, so it was just her and Jax, the shop owner and close friend of hers. As he worked on the bikes they currently had in the garage, it left her free to manage the storefront by herself. She'd been doing it for years, and it was really second nature by that point.

Swaying to the music, she reached above her head to put away some boxes on the top shelf. Dropping back flat on her feet, she spun on a heel and tugged her burgundy v-neck t-shirt back down over the waistband of her jeans and looked towards the front counter, only to stop abruptly. There was a man, a fairly large man, even by her standards of seeing bikers come through, standing by the counter.

Pushing the box she had been pulling parts out of to the side with the toe of her boot, she walked over cautiously, slightly unsettled. The bell on the door hadn't made a sound, and it was notoriously obnoxiously loud. Glancing around him as she made her way behind the counter, she saw that it still hung from the door. Clearing her throat, she smiled amicably, though she found his gaze intense, and his eyes a shade of amber she had never seen in person before.

"Sorry about that," she apologized, shifting her weight to one foot and stuffing her hands into her back pockets. "I didn't hear the door... how long have you been waiting?"

"Not long, but long enough to see you have a good taste in music." As she approached the desk, he stood back from leaning against the counter top, a small smirk creeping on to his scarred lips. As he watched her, he reached back with one hand to release the high ponytail of dreadlocks, shaking them out so they covered the scars of his left shoulder.

Shifting his weight from foot to foot, looking over the girl in front of him to scan the shelves for parts. Almost as if he was proud to show them off, he wore a tight fitted tank top to expose the intricate tattoos down his arms, some a little dented and warped from the scars beneath. His jeans were torn, rough and ripped and messily tucked into heavy biker boots, like everything else on him they were worn. His leather jacket however was in better condition, carefully placed on the desk in front of him.

"So uh, you gonna help me out...or just stare at me?" he said in a low tone, squinting a little as he wet his lips, sharp amber eyes looking her form up and down slowly as he noticed instantly how she seemed to be in awe.

Jumping a little as a flush crept up her chest to her face, she realized too late that she indeed had been staring, trying to take in everything about the man in front of her. There was a lot to take in, in the pleasurable sort of way, and he was a damn sight better than the old grizzlies that came in for Jackson or the skinny little boys that came in for their import bikes. She bit her lip and looked back at the door, trying to distract herself from the shiver-inducing sound of his voice.

"Yeah... yeah. I was just a little surprised you made it in without making that bell ring," she explained, trying to come up with an excuse. It was the truth, just not the parts that really mattered. Trying to gain her bearings, she reverted to the humor that had always served her well. "You've got yourself some ninja skills, or something. I'm impressed. What can I help you with?"

Amused by her choice of words, he let out a deep chuckle, his eyes still locked on her. They danced along her curves, taking note of the way her hair curled in places, and the quick but delicately applied way her makeup was, and how she smiled. Her smile. "I get that a lot, it's become one of my specialties," he joked along before looking back up the shelves to browse. "...and, mufflers. The ones I had got fucked over by some asshole. What brands ya got?" Eyes falling back to hers, he raises his scarred brow at her curiously, wondering if she'd actually offer him something useless unlike most 'biker chicks' he knew of and met. "Gimme somethin' I can work with."

Dropping her elbows onto the counter and propping her chin against the base of one palm, she raised an eyebrow and gave him a little smirk. She recognized the look he was giving her, she'd seen it plenty of times over the years. However, this time it didn't bother her. Unlike most other times, there was nothing condescending about it. It looked like more of a hopeful challenge.

"Well," she started, looking him up and down again, this time blatantly 'sizing him up,' as it were. "You're obviously not in the import crowd, I'm not even gonna insult you with offering those. And if I had to hazard a guess, I'd say that you're not the sort that walked into a dealership and bought a shiny bauble off the show floor and spend your weekends with turtle wax, keeping your trailer queen stock. Which I'd say safely puts you in the custom crowd."

"So!" Clapping one palm against the counter, she squinted and pursed her lips slightly. "I'm going to guess you're a dual exhaust kinda guy. We've got Rineharts, but if you ask me, they're too damn proud of themselves, but we get some rich schmucks that come in and buy 'em for the name. There are the Cobras, but they look pretty basic without the basic price. Bassani has some hot shit, but they're all over the map price wise. I'd recommend Vance & Hines, myself. They have some pretty wicked sets for good deals, and we just got a set of black ceramic short stacks in that are a steal." She watched him carefully, fairly certain she had hit her mark, but hoping she wasn't too far off base.

That was more than he had hoped to hear. Her confidence as she reeled off the brands was admirable, complete with the correct amount of trash talk and opinion of each one that matched his own. The way she did so with such a coy attitude however made him need to take a step back and admire her all over again. To really take in the gorgeous woman in front of him like he hadn’t fully done so in the first place. He hoped it wasn’t too obvious, timing it with when she looked to the ceiling as she drew names from her mind, but he had to let out a breathless exhale of air. She was stunning and her bike knowledge only cemented that statement.

He had to admit he was only half paying attention by the time she finished her speech, only picking up the keywords he needed to and bobbed his head to the side to acknowledge what she had said. “Damn, you know your stuff, girl...I’ll give ya that,” he chimed, giving her lopsided grin. “Ain’t just a pretty face…”

If it wasn’t enough to have her to impress him with bike talk, she went and knocked him for six with a smirk, looking up at him from under her eyelashes as she shrugged nonchalantly. “A girls gotta work, can’t let you boys all the fun now. So, what’s it gonna be, big guy?”

Quirking a brow, tilting his head at her only getting his expression mirrored back, he let out a huffed chuckle. She had fire, already sparks flying between them and he was a moth to a flame. Her eyes were deep and inviting, something about those emerald pools seemed so familiar yet refreshing and new. He didn’t let the thought linger though, forcing himself to actually retrieve the products he had come for, as much as he’d happily continue the staring stand-off he found himself in.

All through the talks of different products, even when he was checking out each piece and comparing different models, he could feel her eyes drinking in every detail. It worked both ways. He let his eyes wander and even when she caught him he continued, enjoying silently the way her cheeks flushed and how she didn’t brush it off or even remotely change how she was moving and talking to him.

After taking his time with making a decision, drawing out everything he could and testing her knowledge again and again, he finally had what he wanted, including the part he came to the shop for. She must have know he was time wasting, but that grin as she took his card told him she didn’t mind one bit.

“So…” she started, ripping off the receipt and handing back his card, “...what do they call you?”
Slowly taking it from her hand, he caught her eyes again. “Raphael. Jus’ call me Raph. Full names are for when I’m in trouble,” he answered in a raspy tone, winking playfully as he put away his wallet, not leaving her gaze while he did so. “Do I get a name for you, darlin’?”

Something about Raph had her entirely beside herself, feeling like a teenager as she flirted with him. She even found herself rolling his name around curiously in her head, liking the sound of it, how it was just different, just like he was. Most guys that came through got their parts and went, some offended by having a woman at the counter, some apparently feeling it was somehow their need or right to flirt with her, even when she didn’t express one iota of interest in return. Occasionally she would flirt back, either to make the sale, and even more rare, it’d lead to a few drinks or an offer out, but always fizzled out. Nothing and no one had ever been like him, though. It was like electricity arcing between them, and neither one could look away for long.

“Stacey,” she answered, smirking and trying to get her goddamned blushing under control. “But I’ve been called trouble plenty, too.”

A deep laugh rumbled from him, his shoulders bobbing with mirth before he tossed his dreadlocks to the side. Trying mostly unsuccessfully not to stare at said muscled shoulders, she laughed as well, losing the battle with the radiant heat raising off her cheeks. “Trouble, huh,” he chuckled, folding his arms and shifting his weight to one leg. “I’m thinkin’ that might be the case.”

“I don’t try usually,” she shrugged, wetting the lips that seemed to have dried out somehow. His honey amber eyes seemed to dance with a light of their own, warmer and more inviting the happier he was. They were incredibly striking, and for some reason she found the scars on his eyebrow particularly endearing. “It just seems to find me, anyway.”

“Mmm, so it does...but somethin’ tells me you invite it...” Quirking his scarred brow, he flashed her a wink, knowing damn well this woman was going to get him in trouble. It was already a game in his head, see who could wreak havoc first, but already she was winning. That glint in her eye as she looked up at him already a clear sign of her victory. He felt wrapped around her little finger and he’d only just learnt her name.

“Depends, if Trouble is a tall broad man with a golden stare, then a girl just might invite it in for a drink or two…”

Hissing through his teeth, narrowing his eyes as he shook his head, he let out a low growl of approval. She was good. Too good, and that look she was giving would surely have him begging on his knees if he wasn’t so stubborn to have her begging first.

“Damn, I’ll let you know if I see this guy. Sounds like a lucky man to me, darlin’...”

“Ooh, so lucky,” she purred, her smirk only growing as she watched him bite his lip at the delightful tune of her voice.

Knowing he needed to leave before they started a fire between them, he reluctantly removed his eyes from her, glancing to the camera fixed in the corner close to the ceiling behind him. “I better go before you get in trouble for slackin’, girl, although I’ll be sure to check back for any other… good deals...” His eyes shamelessly looking her up and down, his head tilted a little as they reached her face again. “Catch ya later, Stacey.”

“See you around, Raphael.”

Pausing to give her one final scolding look for his full name, he winked playfully before disappearing out the door and strode off down the street for his bike. He couldn’t help but keep a grin on his lips as he walked, her eyes still perfectly in his mind. She was stunning. She was beautiful. Sexy and intelligent. Sassy and witty. The perfect package, everything about her just drew him in, kept him fixated on her every word.

There was something about her though. Something so familiar yet he had never seen or heard of her before. Could have mistaken her for someone else, but even then that logic didn’t work. No one as breathtaking as her would have left his mind. Maybe she had simply walked out of a dream that he had on the ride over. The only thing that was clear in his mind was that he had found a new favourite stop. Previously, he had found no reason to ever skulk that particular neighbourhood, but something that day told him to change his usual route. Have a change of scene. Scope out more turf. Whatever it was, he made sure to thank it before mounting his beloved bike, heading out again to nowhere in particular.

Once he was no longer in sight, Stacey breathed deeply as if she’d been holding her breath the entire time. “Holy balls,” she muttered to herself, picking up a flyer off the counter and fanning herself with it, glad the shop had been empty at the time Raph had arrived. How anyone could be that cool yet so intense at the same time completely escaped her, let alone how he managed to look so fucking *hot* while doing it.

“Yer about as red as yer shirt, girl.”

Jumping up from leaning against the wall behind the counter, she pivoted awkwardly to face Jax, slapping the flyer back down against the counter. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she answered, though her voice broke and it left her clearing her throat. She avoided his warm brown eyes, knowing all too well the look she was likely getting.

The weathered man laughed, the raspy joy of it only making her more flushed and flustered. “I leave you in here to do inventory and you wind up in here, actin’ like a girl and flirtin’ all of a sudden? Who the hell are you and what’d you do with my girl?”

Scoffing, she straightened herself up and flicked her ponytail back off her shoulder. Jax could play that game with her all day and never give up. Most of their relationship was trying to figure out which one would be more stubborn about something. So she gave in a little, shrugging. “It’s not like I’ve never flirted with anyone who’s come in here before.”

“Not like that, you ain’t,” he bantered, moving to the opposite side of the counter. Resting his elbows on the countertop, he propped his bearded chin in his hands, curling his fingers and batting his eyes. His voice raised one octave too many as he tittered, “Oh please sir, buy my motorcycle parts.”

“Jax!” she laughed with a scowl, playfully shoving at his arms. “I was not like that!”

“Oh, I’m sorry, you’re right,” he seemed to relent, standing back up. However, then he pivoted his rear towards her, pointing the toe of one foot behind him before exaggeratedly tossing his long, gray beard towards his shoulder like a teenage girl with her hair. He made a kissy face and finished, “It was more like this.”

“Oh my *god*,” Stacey laughed despite herself, before throwing a package of rubber o-rings at him. “You’re fucking terrible. You’re dead to me.” Pretending to stomp off into the shelves and get back to the inventory, she heard him follow, laughing.

“I ain’t dead yet, an’ even if I were, I could haunt this shop and see all the trouble you get yourself in,” he chuckled, folding his arms and leaning up against the shelves. He only laughed harder when she turned to stick her tongue out at him. She loved the old man dearly, and despite her show, she loved the fact that he was willing to laugh and have fun with her. He’d taken her in when she was sixteen and gotten her out of a shitty situation. He’d given her everything when she barely even had herself left.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” she said, rolling her eyes and smirking as she shelved some pistons. “Weren’t you the one just telling me a while back that I needed to get out more, get out and do shit?”

“I sure was,” he agreed, stooping to help with the stock as they talked. “So d’you get his number? You goin’ out like Stacey and the Giant?”

“I did not,” she admitted, a little bashfully. Turning a box containing a rocker cover over and over in her hands, she chewed at her lip and leaned against the shelf. “It was probably just a one off thing. But it was fun.”

“Girl,” he said mirthfully, leaning against the shelf and facing her while running his hands over his long beard. “That boy walked outta here like he’d just seen Aphrodite herself. I bet you twenty bucks he’s back here within the next week.”

“You got yourself a deal,” she grinned, clasping his rough, calloused hand against her own in a firm handshake. If he didn’t show, she’d have twenty extra dollars in her pocket, and if he did, well, she’d happily pay more than that for the pleasure.

***

Chapter 2: Moths to Flame

Summary:

Stacey happily loses her bet with Jax, Raph works himself up to asking her out.

Sure enough, Raphael found himself returning to the store, quickly running out of good excuses as to why he did. Not that the paper thin excuses went over her head, it was painfully obvious why he did come back, even to her when she was still quick to deny anything.

With his return came payment. Not that she complained. It was almost as if she had the money there waiting for Jax, more than happily handing it over with a flustered smile on her lips. “Told ya so,” he’d murmur, smiling from ear to ear while counting out his profit, not that he needed to. He knew she’d pay up handsomely.

Raph turned up so often it became normal to see him around the shop. Sometimes being mistaken for working there, to which he simply answered their questioned or referred them to his ‘fellow staff members’ for more advice, which got him the smirk and scowl he so loved seeing from her.

He was already infatuated with Stacey, wanting to see her as much as he could, when he could. Sparing any free time to dropping by, seeing her eyes light up when he did was enough to improve any mood of day he was having. Even a fiery temper from a common fallout with his brother was calmed by her smile.

The flirting cooled and became genuine interest, but wasn’t forgotten and heated things when the opportunity arose, his silver tongue often getting her in trouble when her boss wasn’t looking. It was mutual though, as she knew how to rattle his cage and get under his skin too, wanting nothing more than to hear that low approving growl that rumbled deep in his chest. It had crossed his mind many times, but the time and place to ask her out never met his ideals, always finding himself cut short for time or being interrupted by Jax or another customer. It was starting to become an itch he couldn’t scratch. He needed to ask her before he ended up screaming it out, not sure how much longer his heart could stand it.

By then she had his number, but it was beyond him to ask her via text. He wasn’t a teenager anymore. That was something more likely to come from his youngest brother, not surprised in the slightest when he witnessed it happen, rolling his eyes at the hollering that echoed around the lair when he got a yes.

Today was a good a day as ever, and so he went for it, biting the bullet despite his anxiety. Learning her favourite morning drink, he made sure to head in just after opening, hoping it wasn’t too much to bring her a coffee. Second guessing himself as he paid the barista, he shook it off and continued with his quest.

Even though the sign still read closed, he carefully opened the door with a push with his shoulder, not surprised to see her sat behind the front desk with her earbuds in. A common routine she had while trying her best to stay awake, blasting some heavy music in her ears to shake off the drowsy haze still wrapped around her, often rushing to work without breakfast too.

Approaching her carefully, he crouched down to her level, chuckling to himself seeing her half lidded eyes behind a curtain of hair as she scrolled on her phone. Standing up straight again, he placed her coffee down carefully on the countertop, standing back to sip his own and wait for her to catch the fresh smell without making her jump out of her skin by tapping her shoulder. He could wait eternity for her to just glance in his direction.

Ever glad that the shop was not an environment of early birds, Stacey sat behind the front counter blasting music she hoped would shake her brain cells awake. She was scrolling idly through her phone, nothing in particular taking her interest as she went through the routine of checking Instagram and other apps. Shifting her posture a little, she tucked one side of her loose hair behind her ear, and in doing so caught a whiff of coffee. Blinking as her mind caught up with her nose, it confused her as she knew she was the first one there that morning and she hadn’t gotten up the gumption to go and start the shops pot just yet.

Looking up towards the garage, it was just as it had been when she came in. Turning towards the counter, she was caught utterly off guard when she discovered she wasn’t alone like she thought she had been. Yelping with a startled jump, she fumbled her phone, it bouncing off each hand she tried to catch it with before clattering to the floor and ripping the headphones out of her ears. Her wide, embarrassed eyes slowly turned to meet those of a graceful, large man who likely would’ve snuck up on her even if she hadn’t had the headphones in. “Jesus H Christ!! How long have you been there?”

Raph appeared to make an attempt to not react, to let her save face, but he failed, his shoulders bobbing with a deep chested chuckle. If she didn’t enjoy his smile so much, she might’ve been inclined to throw something at him. Not that it would matter, he’d catch it, anyway. “Not long, but long enough,” he answered, his voice rich with mirth.

It reminded her of the first time she had met him, and she hid her own smile by stooping to pick up her phone, wrapping the cords around it as she stood up and adjusted her expression into one of mock offense. “It is way too early to be giving me a coronary.”

“Is it?” he asked, making motions to slide the large coffee cup sitting on her side of the counter back towards himself. “I s’pose I could just take this back, then.”

“No!” she yelped again, jumping to grab the life blood of mornings, and brushing his hand in the process. She was fairly certain her eyes were just as wide as they had been when she first noticed him, so she flickered them back down, scooping the warm paper cup up to her face and breathing deeply before taking a sip. Closing her eyes, she let herself believe it was just the sensation of her favorite drink rolling across her tongue that had her savoring the moment, and not the feel of his calloused hand brushing against hers, or the fact that he had brought the perfect drink to her first thing in the morning.

When she opened her eyes, she found him smirking back at her over the rim of his own cup, which was distracting enough in its own right without her noticing how dwarfed the cup was in his large hand. Clearing her throat and trying to gain some level of composure, she rested the cup back down easily, wetting her lips. “Honestly though, thank you, this might just help me make it through the day. How did you know, and what has you here so early?”

Shrugging nonchalantly, he peered down at her with a lazy lopsidedly grin behind his cup before sipping at it again. “Was in the neighbourhood...” he said a little playfully, pretending to ignore her eyes narrowing a little at his answer. “I figured you’d need the kickstart, since someone don’t like lookin’ after herself.”

The pout on her lips at his remark only confirmed that fact, and she couldn’t exactly come out and say he was wrong when he wasn’t. Her fumbling and lagging reaction had been proof of it too. “Okay, fine, but how do you know my order? Hmm?”

“Ahh… now,” he started, clicking his tongue before tossing his empty paper cup into the trash can, not without a flair of a trick shot as it bounced off the rim twice before landing perfectly upright at the bottom of the basket. Leaning forward on to the counter, he gave her a sly smirk to which she couldn’t help but mirror. “That would be tellin’. I ain’t about to give all my secrets away to ya. Gotta keep you on your toes somehow.”

Letting her eyes linger a little too long in his captivating golden gaze, she peeled them away to look down at her hands, gently sliding the cup back and forth between them. “Fine, but now I’m just more curious as to how you tick.”

Chuckling deep in his chest, his shoulders bobbing a little, he tilted his head so he looked up at her from under her hair again. “Well, maybe if you go out for a drink with me tonight...you might learn a thing or two…” Quirking a brow, his smirk dissolving into a friendly smile, he desperately tried to calm the anxiety bubbling away inside of him. It wasn’t how he expected it to come out, but it escaped his lips before he had time to think up a better way to ask, slide it into a later conversation. Maybe it was just the excitement of it, wanting to know her answer sooner rather than later.

Stacey could tell her skin was going flush again, and with the way he tilted his head to catch her gaze, she knew he had that figured out about her. No looking away to avoid looking vulnerable or embarrassed in front of him would work, not that she really honestly wanted it to. Her heart had climbed up into her throat, and her pulse roared in her ears. She’d been dying for him to ask for ages, why was is suddenly so hard to find the words, any words, to answer him?

Running circles around the plastic lid of her coffee with her finger, she lifted her head more, taking the chance to look a little vulnerable in front of him. “That sounds like you’re asking me out on a date,” she answered finally, giving him a bit of a coy look. She couldn’t let him have it quite that easily.

It was his turn to look away, his own eyes dipping to the counter as he rubbed the back of his neck. She was bolstered a little bit that he seemed a bit nervous himself, when normally he kept as cool as a cucumber. The roguish smile and hopeful gaze as he looked back up was just about all she could handle. “I s’pose it does.”

“Well, I have one question for you, then,” she offered, leaning in a bit across the counter, her hair falling from her shoulders and sliding over the smooth countertop, worn from years of use. He looked on inquisitively, but said nothing, propping his chin up with the knuckles of one hand as he leaned in as well, awaiting her answer. “What took you so damn long?”

Studying her carefully as she questioned him, his lips slowly curved into a smirk, his anxiety washing away and being replaced with a heavy thud of his heart. He had to admit, he had panicked when she had a question, instantly assuming it would have been something along the lines of ‘are you out of your mind’ or ‘are you serious?’ Assuming maybe he dealt his cards wrong, was too forward and confident, throwing his chances forever out the window.

Luckily she was just as playful as he was, just as sly and devious and it suited him just fine. She kept him on his toes as much as he did with her, testing him constantly, and he was always ready to take whatever hit she’d throw his way.

“Gotta leave you wanting more, just to be sure, besides...” Shifting his weight, dropping his hand to her coffee cup, he swilled it around a little as he continued, his voice shifting to a huskier tone. “I gotta know what a lady likes before I can treat her right. Ain’t about to drag her to some snobby fancy-ass restaurant if she’s a whiskey drinker.”

Dropping the cup into her hand, he turned his gaze up to meet hers again, a mischievous glint in his eye. “You saying I’m not fancy?” Stacey pouted, playing the mock offensive card again.

“Fair from it, darlin’, I jus’ know you’re a woman of finer tastes. Got a place in mind that’ll be perfect for ya.”

Raising a brow curiously, tilting her head upward to him as he stood back to full height again, she hummed in thought. “Really now, but let me guess… It’s a surprise?”

“You got it,” he winked, stepping backwards as he headed back toward the door, never leaving her gaze as he did. Reaching out, not looking, he grabbed the door handle, as if he had eyes in the back of his head. “I’ll be around later to pick ya up. Don’t go slackin’, or no date.” Pointing a judging finger at her, a mock stern expression on his face that quickly crumbled into a grin, she dramatically rolled her eyes at him to play along, trying to distract from the fact her face was burning up again. “Fine, I’ll behave for now. But no promises later, though…”

“Oh, I don’t doubt you’ll be gettin’ me in to trouble later.” He had done well so far, getting as far as opening the door but kept finding himself looking back to her, the look in her eyes always tempting him back. “Catch ya later.”

“See you soon.”

No wonder people thought he worked there too, he had been spending more time at the shop than the dojo recently, but he really had to go. Part of it was also the worry she would change her mind. If he left right then, it gave her time to think, give her time to message him later in the day to turn him down, but he prayed she didn’t. However, given the look in her eye, something told him she’d be running out the door come closing time.

As he left, Stacey couldn’t help but smile into her coffee cup, the taste of victory and anticipation making it all that much sweeter. It put a bounce in her step she couldn’t remember ever being there before, regardless of how much she may have looked forward to a date in the past. By the time Jax came in, she was humming along to the music she had playing in the shop, and was productively getting through some paperwork.

Leaning against the doorframe to the office, he looked at her with a lifted brow, amused by her good mood. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked, trying and utterly failing to look innocent.

“What’s got you so bright eyed and bushy tailed this morning?” he asked smugly, folding his arms and refusing to look away until she answered.

“Nothing,” she answered, feeling her skin betraying her and flushing a bright red. Trying to keep his gaze with a straight face, she finally let out her breath and threw her hands up in submission. “Fine. Fine! I have plans tonight, okay?”

Chuckling, he shook his head, his smile wrinkling his face endearingly. “It wouldn’t happen to be a date with a giant man who’s been makin’ this place his second home recently, would it?”

“Maybe,” Stacey answered, trying to look dignified as she shuffled some binders on the desk. “Speaking of, I’m gonna run out during my lunch today, but I’ll be back in plenty of time.”

Jax let out a hearty laugh, slapping the door frame. “Girl, you go take your time gettin’ prettied up for that boy. Don’t make a difference to me if you take a long lunch.”

“I am *not* getting prettied up!” she scoffed, turning a deeper shade of crimson. The man sure knew how to push her buttons, that was for sure.

“You keep tellin’ yourself that,” he laughed, all the way out into the garage.

***

Okay, so maybe she had prettied herself up. A little. Watching the clock tick along at a snail’s pace, she darted back into the bathroom to check herself in the mirror, wanting enough time to make it back out just in case he showed up a little early. Instead of her normal, basic but rushed makeup, she had taken her time, using her nicer supplies that were begging for some attention anyway. Her wingtip eyeliner was still on point as she checked it in the mirror, the light gold eyeshadow above it still in place. It was a bit of practicality, a bit of recognition. The color offset her green eyes well without out-matching the bold eyeliner, but it was also a nod to his golden eyes, and went well enough with his accent color of choice, red, on her lips.

Running her hands through her hair, she made sure the loose curls fell where she wanted them to, and that her hair swooped off her part just so. Double checking and adjusting the tight fit crimson tank top she wore, she bobbed her shoulders and settled the black denim button up that she chose to wear over the top of it. She was still wearing jeans and boots, as was her standard, but she chose the jeans that weren’t covered in grease stains and fit a little more snugly, as well as the boots that had a little more of a heel on them.

For once, she thought as she whisked back out of the bathroom, straightening some parts on the shelves, she didn’t have to worry about being too tall. Not that she was incredibly tall at 5’9”, but it was tall enough with a two inch boot heel to make make some men uncomfortable. He’d still have plenty on her, which she didn’t figure he was terribly concerned about, but she certainly found attractive. He was the first guy she’d been out with that had the ability to make her feel physically small, which was novel.

Letting out a breath, she made herself stop thinking about “physically” before she got carried away. She was nervous enough, and if he showed up while she was in the midst of mentally “admiring” his musculature, she’d likely forget how to speak. Or walk. Or breathe.

Jax’s head poked through the door of the garage, just his head, asking, “Is Tarzan here yet?”

“Jax!” She threw a package of bolts in his direction, and they hit the closed door, their rattle and clatter doing nothing to quiet his cackling on the other side of the door. “Don’t make me come out there!”

***

Unsure of where to direct his new found energy, Raphael had to ditch Belle in her secret housing and take a walk, a long walk which turned into a jog, which turned into a sprint to the dojo. He needed to calm himself somehow, release the energy, maybe sparring or even heading back out to the gym would help. Frustrated for once at having no class to teach that day, he had no real outlet. Not that how he was feeling was a bad thing.

He felt lighter than he ever had done in years, or ever. His heart soared and he couldn’t stop the constant smile that graced his features, the spring in his step. It revitalized him.

Kicking the door open to the dojo, that time catching it before it slammed against the wall, as often was the case with his loud entrances, he jumped down the stairs and up on to the central platform. Surprised by the radiant mood his brother had brought in, Mikey didn’t even open the pizza box he had in his hands, too busy watching the rare scene in front of him with a wide eyed stare. “Uh...you okay, dude?”

“Never better!”

Raising a brow, the blonde glanced over his shoulder to Donnie who was also starring in mild disbelief from his seat at his desk. “Wanna fill us in?”

Rubbing his face, letting out a loud exhale of air, he had to think of a quick excuse. He hadn’t let on about her. He kept mostly everything about his own personal life a secret, even his own bike. God forbid Leo ever found out. Not that he could care any less right at that moment. He was riding a high and almost couldn’t contain himself, but he had to. Had to control his excitement for just the day. He wasn’t about to let his brothers in on his secret. Somehow they’d ruin it, scare her off, judge or chastise him for it.

“Aw man, I jus’... I got a good feelin’ about today. Got some good sleep, finally got that new guard set? S’gonna be good.” He wasn’t lying as such, but the new gear he had bought hadn’t actually arrived yet, in fact he had only just ordered it the previous night. Not that they needed to know the details. “Fuck man, I got all this energy… Mikey, get over here!”

“Wha….what?”

“Come here, try an’ kick my ass.”

Still in shock, not really sure how to approach his excitable brother, Mikey hesitated, looking down at the pizza box forlornly before rolling his eyes and setting it down with Donnie. Why waste the opportunity, it didn’t come around often, or was so fleeting it was like catching a whisper in the wind. His pout quickly faded as he stepped up onto the platform with Raph, flashing a cheeky grin before starting to bounce on the balls of his feet. “Fine, but I ain’t going easy on you.”

“Bring it, shorty.” Hunching down, a lopsided grin on his lips, Raph brushed at his nose while locking eyes with his brother. They had different styles, almost opposite techniques, but that was just what he needed. The challenge to tire him out. He was fast, difficult to hit, near impossible even. He would beat opponents just by dancing circles around them, figuratively and literally, sometimes not even needing to land a real hit to win.

Raph was different. He was direct, unmoveable, almost the other end of the spectrum when it came to movement. He could work up a sweat just trying to keep up with his brothers pacing, but Mikey had to worry about getting caught. Even if they were highly skilled and trained in multiple forms of combat, they were brothers. They knew how the other worked.

After the unusually long silence between them as they watched each other, trying to judge where the other would move or attack from, Raph rolled his eyes with a grunt, “Jus’ fuckin’ move already!”

Smirking, Mikey faked darting one way before jumping back, narrowly avoiding a lunge. “Gotta keep ‘em eager, bro”.

Snarling, Raph lunged forward again, his fist missing again and again, but he kept throwing, chasing his brother and keeping him moving.

“Too slow!” Mikey chirped, leaning back from another swing. “Missed again!” It continued for a while, and although he had asked for it, his brothers cocky taunting was starting to grate on him.
Hissing through his teeth, he held back a little, not using so much weight and lulling Mikey into an overconfident, false sense of security, knowing he’d start to run his mouth again.

“Gettin’ a little slow in your old age, huh?”

Holding fire, he smirked, pumping his shoulders up, holding his fists up ready. “Guess I am, but you’re getting cocky.”

“Tch, I’m just too good, tha’s all.”

Humming, Raph watched him intently, waiting for opportunity, his window that was coming all too soon. Mikey was getting distracted, his focus faltering. Knowing he was a kicker, that he’d try and land a final hit on him with an intricate flip, he would have a chance to catch him out. It was a mistake he often made when sparring against a him, his kicks never left a dent against his stance, it’d be like hitting a brick wall. “Yeah? Prove it.”

Right on cue. Psyching him out again, darting around him with a elegant flip, Mikey launched his signature flying back kick, only gasping loudly when it didn’t land how he lazily planned, misjudging the distance and the fact his brother had turned around on him unnervingly fast. Luckily, he hit something, but it stuck him, his foot caught and locked in Raph’s fist. “Too good? Too lazy.”

Holding Mikey’s foot high, Raph stood up straight with a smirk, watching his brother try to balance on one foot still caught in the motion, wobbling a little, needing to drop his leg. “Aww, fuck...come on, lemme go,” he whined, holding his arms out to steady himself.

“Nah, you look stupid. It’s kinda funny.” he teased, threatening to push him back. “I thought you were fast? Mr. ‘Untouchable’?”

“Yeah! I am! I just didn’t know you levelled up your speed today!”

Letting out a loud belly laugh, mostly at how desperate and awkward his brother looked, Raph tilted his head down mockingly. “Expect the unexpected, or whatever fortune cookie muck it is Leo says,” he scoffed before dropping his foot.

Fortunate that their youngest brother was rarely disheartened with losing, their sparring turned into a best two out three, then five out of seven, their bubble only being burst when Leo assigned everyone cleaning duties, which Raph managed to slide out of. Much to the dismay of Mikey, it was his prize, winning a free pass into skipping any chores for the rest of the day and thus freeing him to escape to his date.

“Don’t be hatin’ bro, maybe skip the pizza, then you might beat me next time,” Raph taunted, passing the blonde a broom with a toss as he left the room.

“Man, I liked Raph when he was being miserable… happy Raph suuuuuckkks,” he groaned, setting about his sweeping.

***

Chapter 3: Confidence is Sexy

Summary:

Raph picks Stacey up for their first date, and things get interesting fast.

Never one to dress nice or worry about his appearance, his scars stopping that before he even started, Raph suddenly found himself struggling when it came to him getting ready. It was like jeans and a shirt weren’t enough, even when it was all he wore, and he had to put some real effort into it. But she seemed happy with whatever he rocked up in, scruffy and dirty, why would this be any different?
After a shower, he set himself the task of actually trying for the sake of the date going well. Taming back the top rows of dreadlocks into a messy knot, leaving the rest down around his shoulders, he made sure to keep the threaded ones loose, the three bright colours a contrast against the rest of his palette of greys and dusky reds. His t-shirt sleeves were rolled up neatly, his jeans the least torn and worn ones he owned, even his boots were polished and buffed, the scuffs and scars in the leather mostly invisible.

Not entirely satisfied with what he saw in the mirror, he groaned audibly to himself. Not that he was ever satisfied with the reflection. Shrugging on his leather jacket, after lazily applying on whichever body spray he’d picked up from his dresser, he headed out. He didn’t stop to say goodbye, sneaking out quickly without being seen to bypass any suspicious questions. Last thing he wanted was for his obnoxious older brother to kill his buzz. Once he was clear, he uncovered Belle again, saddling up and heading out toward the shop. Suddenly, his stomach was doing flips and knotting as he turned down the familiar street towards the shop. On the brief amount of ride he had left, he managed to give himself a small pep talk, talking himself through step by step on how to handle it and what to say, telling himself to play it cool but it all faded away and escaped him when he pulled up outside.

Cracking his neck, he dismounted smoothly, his feet feeling like heavy slabs of lead as he approached the door. It was frustrating how his excitement had run away, leaving him with just tangled nerves. He’d been thinking about it all day, looking forward to it, but when faced with the storefront, he struggled to even bring himself to face her. Removing his helmet before entering, ignoring the ‘closed’ sign now flipped around on the door, he peered in. “Knock knock?” Trying to force his confidence, he kept his voice even and cool, shouldering on the playful attitude he’d had most of the day. “I was told there was some hot biker chick here, waiting for a date or somethin’, or did I get the wrong place?”

Exercising as much self restraint as she could manage, Stacey did not run out from the office where she had been shutting down the computer, but still kind of threw herself at the door frame, poking her head out, hair swinging over her shoulder. “Totally the wrong place, only ogres and trolls here,” she quipped back, glad she had spoken before looking. Seeing him there threatened to steal her voice along with her breath.

Chuckling as he sauntered around the door, helmet tucked under his elbow against his hip, there wasn’t an ounce of her that didn’t think he looked insanely hot. He always did, no matter what he wore, but he had paid enough attention to really nail the look that suited him best. “That’s a damn shame, I musta taken a wrong turn. Guess I’ll hafta leave.”

Dipping back into the office just enough to hopefully cool her rapidly heating chest and face, she snagged the doorknob and pulled the door shut, pulling her leather jacket off the hook next to the door. “No can do,” she bantered, smirking as she slid her arms into it. “I’m like the troll of Hotel California. No checking out until you take me out. Hot biker chick is just gonna have to suffer the loss.”

With little restraint, Raph shamelessly looked her up and down without caring if she caught him, just to marvel in how hot she looked. It was classy hot. He wasn’t into short skirts and skimpy tops, over the top makeup and big hair, he had a more refined taste, and she ticked all the boxes. He didn’t miss the small details in her makeup either, his smirk only growing noticing the deep shade of red on her lips. “Damn, good thing I’m into trolls then huh? Suddenly ain’t too bothered by this biker chick. She can wait, I found someone better,” he growled playfully at her, flashing a wink as she stepped up to him, with a coy look in her own eyes.

“Shame... real shame. Lucky me though, right?”

“Mmm yeah, lucky sounds about right... although I’d say I’m the lucky one, here.” The way she flipped her hair over her shoulder had him bite his lip, but the way she looked up through her eyelashes at him had him curse under his breath.

“Is that so?”

It was taking everything in him to control himself, trying to tame the thoughts teased in the back of his mind, but watching the way she moved wasn’t helping his cause. “Yeah, definitely so. Now, did you want a drink or not? 'Cuz for some reason I’m gettin’ thirsty…”

Noticing he had his helmet, she slipped away to grab her own, letting her eyes linger on his for as long as she could before tearing them away. Leading toward the door, determined to show some kind of chivalry to rival his impure thoughts, he held the door open and let her go through first. “Our chariot awaits,” he declared, grinning proudly as they approached his beloved bike. Sliding a leg easily over, slumping heavily into the seat, he ignited the engine, revving the bike a few times before turning to Stacey with a slightly smug grin. If he was going to be proud of anything, he was proud of his bike and happily took the time to show her off when he had the pleasure to. He kept her in top condition. The leather oiled and the black chrome polished to a high finish. Belle was his pride and joy, the only thing about him that had no imperfections, as he saw it. They had discussed his bike many times, as was expected, although this was the first time he had brought it over and shown it off. Resting his helmet on his thigh, he watched Stacey and couldn’t help but chuckle as she seemed to be in some kind of trance watching him and the bike. “If ya done starin’, we can get movin’, woman.”

Snapping her attention back up to his face, she cleared her throat and reminded herself not to lick her lips, lest she ruin the carefully applied lipstick. Holding up a hand, she slowly started sauntering around him astride the bike, looking all of it over. “You can’t rush these things, this is something to be appreciated in full glory.” Circling slowly, she let her hips sway, occasionally leaning in suggestively to look at different details.

A familiar growl emanated from his throat, and she grinned mischievously up at him, batting her eyelashes innocently as she leaned in across him to look at the gauges. “What? I’m a connoisseur, what can I say?”

“Woman,” he growled again, his eyes moving up and away from her, a look of utter torture painted across his face.

“We’re going to have to upgrade you to the dimmable LED rings, though, you can even pick the color,” she offered, tapping the gauge bezels and barely restraining her laughter as his eyes fell back down on her, somehow alight with fire and completely deadpan at the same time. They kept their eyes locked for a long moment before he burned her out, sending her completely upright and laughing. “Alright, alright,” she relented, tugging her own helmet on and buckling it under her chin. She couldn’t help but wonder what his bedroom eyes would be like if those were how he looked at her in the middle of the afternoon, and the thought had her snapping her visor down quickly to hide the blush creeping back onto her face.

Waiting for him to finish with his own helmet and get his admittedly beautiful bike upright, she felt giddy in a way she wasn’t used to. Despite trying to moderately behave, she couldn’t help but notice that his biceps were large enough to even flex through the leather of his jacket as he reached back to flip the pegs down for her. Putting a hand onto his broad shoulder, she steadied herself on the left peg, deftly swinging her right leg over and dropping onto the seat behind him. As the insides of her thighs brushed against his hips and she rested her hands on his waist, she tried to swallow but her mouth was suddenly dry. Raph wasn’t the only one that was thirsty, she thought to herself, settling in behind him. "Alright stallion," she purred through her visor, leaning into his shoulder to make sure he heard, but also to shamelessly give herself an excuse to get even closer. "Where's this chariot headed?

The woman was relentless and was going to be the death of him.

Feeling her press against his back, he only wished she was in front of him, pressing against his chest so he could access and appreciate her face again, study the curve of her lips and the intensity of her eyes. His thoughts were even closer to betraying him the more he let them linger in that train of thought. She knew exactly what she was doing already, knew exactly how to push his buttons and they weren’t even out yet at the bar yet. He already feared what would happen when his filter began to crash after a few drinks. Shaking it off, he turned his head to reply to her, chuckling deeply while raising a hand from the handlebars to tap his helmet. “All in good time,” he answered with a playful growl. “Jus’ enjoy the ride.” Cracking his neck, he readied himself to move off, smirking to himself when he felt her arms wrap tightly around his middle as they pulled away.

He wasn’t sure if she had picked up on it or not, but he was cruising down longer out-of-the-way roads, taking wrong turns purely so he could ride with her longer, finding a new way around just to savour the moment. Enjoying the sights, he couldn't help but enjoy the feel of her clinging to him, the way she rested comfortably against him, perfectly adjusting her weight with each turn, never too much or too little to unbalance the bike. It was like she was made for him, perfectly in tune although they hadn’t known each other for long. Raph took longer than he had planned, even with the detours, he realized as they finally pulled up to a back alley parking lot. If it wasn’t for the row of other bikes similar to his, it’d look shut down, maybe abandoned. Not much of it gave off a welcoming vibe, the windows being closed up with shutters and only a single blinking neon sign to signal the place was open, already bright in the dusky twilight.

Sensing her apprehension, Raph pulled off his helmet and rested it against is thigh, leaning back to properly address her concern. “I know it don’t look like much, but trust me.”

“Oh I do, don’t you worry. Maybe I trust you a little too much. Taking me to some strange bar of ill repute and all.”

He couldn’t help but laugh again, his eyes creasing as the corner with the grin that beamed across his scarred lips caused by her disapproving tilt of head. Oh, how he loved it already and made note to try and get that reaction more often.

Dismounting and settling Belle with the other bikes, he made sure to keep some distance, but not so much as to seem obnoxious and invite trouble. Guiding Stacey to the entrance, he allowed her to enter first, keeping close enough so she knew he was still there behind her, but not close enough to invade her personal space. Inside, the atmosphere was alive and bustling, bikers from all walks of life drinking and smoking, laughing and talking loudly amongst themselves. Old school cruisers with newbies and wannabe road kings, but not a single bad vibe among them. The homey feel inside was a juxtaposition to the outside, where it looked cold and lonely. A live band played in the corner, nothing heavy, but definitely fitting to the bar itself, loud enough to be heard but not enough to drown out any conversations, not that it stopped many from needing to shout.

Leading Stacey up to the bar, he leant against the wooden surface top on his elbow, a smug smirk playing on his lips as he watched her admire the place. “So, did I do good? Or is it still some strange bar 'of ill repute'?”

Squinting at him while she appraised the bar, she let him burn with the question for a long moment. She wasn’t entirely sure what she had expected, but it was definitely a pleasant surprise. It was perfectly suited for them, even if thinking of the two of them as “them” surprised her a little. Trying to imagine sitting at a nice restaurant with cloth napkins and wine glasses felt awkward enough, in person it probably would’ve been unbearable. In a bar like the one he had taken her to, it gave them both the freedom to be themselves, uninhibited. “You done good,” she admitted finally, smiling up at him. As much as she wanted to give him grief for his smug smirk, she just couldn’t. It was damn perfect, and she couldn’t have done better herself. “You ready to get your ass kicked at pool?”

Giving her a sideways glance appraisingly, the smug look didn’t disappear from his expression. “You really think so, huh?”

“I hear confidence is sexy,” she quipped, giving him a smug smirk right back. The smirk didn’t leave as he ordered beers for them both, deferring to her pick off tap. She hadn’t ever met someone that could keep up with her banter like he did, besides Jax, who obviously didn’t count in the given situation. The only guys that came close were just straight up assholes, and always went too far or were incredibly self-absorbed, both of which were an instant shut down for her. Yet somehow, there he was, walking the same tightrope as she was, and if she didn’t keep up, was likely to be better at it. The pool challenge was almost two-sided in the same regard, seeing if he would keep it up.

Both pool tables were occupied, so Raph slid a couple of quarters under the bumper on one of the tables, silently claiming the next game with the victor. The two men looked at him appraisingly, looking equal parts threatened and bolstering up their game. He didn’t even acknowledge them, moving to the wall with her to pick out a cue while they waited. It was something else about him that she found curious, that he never made a show of his size and stature. That had always been around the shop, but seeing that it didn’t change in a bar with so many unknown people impressed her more than any showboating would’ve. Confidence was sexy, she admitted to herself.

Cue chalked, she watched as the men finished their game, and Raph moved in to rack the next set for the winner. The loser walked over to her, hovering a respectable distance, but close enough to speak to her quietly. “Aaron there is pretty good, he holds that table most nights when he’s in. What’re the odds your boy there is gonna win the table for you?”

Shifting her weight onto one hip, she waited until after the break to respond, lifting an eyebrow lazily. “For me? Pretty damn good, I’d say,” she bluffed quietly, though she could’ve sworn his eyes flashed towards her briefly as he walked around the table. She honestly had no idea how well he played, but there wasn’t a chance in hell she was about to admit that.

“Twenty bucks says his skills are all in those biceps, and Aaron runs that table,” the man bet, his voice still quiet.

Feeling a flare of offense on his behalf, she shoved a hand out in his direction. “You got yourself a deal. Double or nothing my man runs his ass right off the table.” The man nodded, accepting her bid. Folding her arms after running her hands through her hair, she watched, swearing she saw the most imperceptible shake of his head. She had to be seeing things, there was simply no way he could hear her quiet voice over the general din of people and loud music.

As much as he could with her standing perfectly in his line of sight, Raph focused on his game, cracking his neck before lining up his next shot. She was a menace, taking bets on his behalf, forcing him to up his game. He wasn’t into showboating or purposely making a show of himself, but a man just might dabble if a gorgeous woman was watching him, especially since there was money on his skill. He wasn’t Donnie and geometry was not his forte, far from it, but he could pocket a ball or two with a single shot when he put his mind to it. He just had to think, and doing so was difficult when he kept getting distracted by the way she jutted her hip and flipped her hair away from her shoulder. He was sure she was doing it on purpose to test him.

Happy with his line, he fired, staying still until he saw the balls collide with a loud clack in the way he envisioned. Standing up straight, he tried to tame the smirk that played his lips as two balls were pocketed, stepping away to allow the other player to view the table. Having never watched or even seen Raphael before, the man narrowed his eyes, sizing him up before stepping forward past him. “Lucky shot,” he scoffed, turning his back on him before leaning over the table. Shrugging, Raph simply watched, not giving Aaron the satisfaction of reacting, as much as he’d love to smack talk him. Confidence was sexy, after all.

Having caught her curved silhouette the moment she walked through the door, a pair of prying eyes had watched her the entire way to the pool table. Now she was without company, watching the pool game alongside other punters in the bar, it was the perfect chance to introduce himself. Sliding his way carefully through the clusters of people, a tall broad man snuck up beside her, carefully pushing his way between her and the man she had been speaking to before. “Damn, if you ain’t a sight for sore eyes.” Speaking with a low seductive tone, a man roughly the side of Raphael gently nudged her shoulder, a playful smirk on his lips. “What’s a gorgeous thing like you doin’ here, darlin'? Can’t imagine it’s any of these grizzly bikers…”

Blinking her eyes away from the game in front of her, Stacey slowly turned to face the man addressing her, quirking a brow with a slight sneer. “What’s it to you? Can’t a girl enjoy a beer now and then?”

Holding his hands up in defense, he nodded his head to the side, “Oh no, that’s not what I meant at all. Jus’ not often we get graced with someone such as yourself.” Flashing a wink at her, he chuckled deeply, trying to keep his eyes from looking her up and down again. Unimpressed, Stacey hummed, considering what he had said before looking back to the table where Raph perfectly sunk another ball. Following her eyes, he scoffed, throwing a hand up dismissively. “Oh trust me, Riff Raff ain’t one to fuck with. He's one miserable son of a bitch.”

Tilting her head as she watched him study the table again, circling it slowly while the other player took his turn, she peered up at the new stranger. “Is that so?”

“Aww yeah, he that edgy lone wolf bullshit. Mr. Misunderstood. Pretty thang like you ain’t got time for that though, amiright?” Nudging her arm carefully with his elbow, chuckling again, he looked down at her, his sly grin broadening as she blurted out a laugh.

“Maybe I’m into that? Takes one to know one, and all that.”

Hearing her laugh, Raph snapped his eyes up to her, his sharp game focus cracking as he witnessed what was happening. Of all people and of all times for one of his so-called friends to appear, it had to be that one. He was like a pimple on prom night, unwanted and hard to get rid of. His turn couldn’t come quickly enough, and when it did, his eyes were barely on the table, his face scrunched into a scowl as he kept his eyes on the man beside his date. A powerful wave of possessiveness washed over him, making his aim falter and the cue snagged the ball on impact, sending it completely off course and resulting in an even harder shot on his next turn.

Smirking, his confidence starting to return, Aaron chuckled to himself as he leant on his cue lazily. “Oooh, that's rough, buddy.”

Raph didn’t hear it, ignoring him completely as he stalked past, clenching a hard fist around his own cue as he approached Stacey. “Well well, if it ain’t the Sleaze Master himself! The fuck you doin’ here, Donte?” Snarling deep in his throat, Raph made sure to stand close to Stacey, pushing himself in between them subtly.

“Hey! That ain’t no way to talk to a friend, Raffy. Jus’ talkin’, tha’s all. To uh, sorry... didn’t catch your name. What was it, darlin’?” Leaning around Raphael, not phased by his threatening stance, Donte raised a thick brow at Stacey, still confident in his ability to woo her some way or another.

Finding herself three men to the side of where she had begun, she shifted her weight to her other hip to angle herself towards the man leaning around Raph. Raph obviously knew him, even if he wasn’t terribly well received. Something about him, or something about him in that particular situation was rubbing her wrong way, and she scowled up at him. “Listen, only one man in this bar has the right to call me ‘darlin’’ without catching the butt end of a pool cue to the face.”

“Whaaaa? Naw, din’ you hear? We friends, sweetheart. He ain’t gonna hit shit.”

“He isn't the one you should be worried about,” Stacey snapped. She had been holding her cue in her left hand, easier to flip end up into her dominant hand, just like Jax had taught her. “So I suggest if you like your face arrangement and your balls not shoved up into your torso, you refrain from calling me darlin’. Or sweetheart, cutie, girlie, chick, or the like. My name is Stacey, and if you’ve still got a couple of brain cells left to rub together, make sure you remember it.”

Donte let out a loud guffaw, clapping his cupped hands together before giving Raph a hearty shove to the shoulder, bumping him slightly against Stacey in the crowded space. His eyes flicked down to make sure she was alright before settling a heavier scowl on Donte. “Daaaamn, son. You found yourself a real firecracker, there, din’ ya?”

“Sounds like you might wanna put the nicknames on hold,” Raph warned, shooting daggers with his eyes. “Piss her off, ya piss me off, Donte. And you can explain to your mama why you were disrespectin’ women.”

“If you guys are done whipping your dicks out and having your pissing contest, you think we could get back to our game of pool?” Aaron questioned with exasperation, leaning against his pool cue.

Staring, unblinking, Raph refused to move until Donte put his hands up, backing up a little. “A’ight, a’ight, Raffy, calm yo tits. I was just havin’ a lil fun, take your shot.” As he moved back to the table grudgingly, Donte leaned his back against the wall, but still caught Stacey in his peripherals. “You sure know how to get ma boy riled, don’ ya?”

Trying to keep an eye on both Raph and Donte, Stacey took a long drink from her pint glass. There was always ‘that guy’ at a bar like that, so it didn’t ruffle her feathers that far down. She just knew from experience it was best to put them in their place right off. “You’re barking up the wrong tree to find a back warmer, dude. If I throw this stick, will you leave?”

Laughing loudly again, Donte shook his head and took a swig of his beer. “Damn, gi- I mean, *Miss Stacey.* Maybe you is here for some grizzly biker motherfuckers with a tongue like that.”

“Probably better lay off the grizzly bikers, too,” Raph warned, glancing up from the table as he lined up his shot. She smirked as she watched him take another perfect shot, much to the dismay of his opponent who had been so hopeful moments before. He hadn’t been put off by her defending herself, and was simply backing her up. It was major brownie points, not that he really needed them.

“Smart one, that Mr. Misunderstood,” she snickered as Donte’s face fell a little. The man she had a bet with looked a little stressed, the small area around the table had gotten crowded and odds weren’t looking in his favor anymore. Things had gotten interesting a lot faster than she had expected, not that it was inherently a bad thing. She would take that situation over an awkward dinner at an expensive restaurant with a man who had no idea how to carry on a conversation with her.

“Damn, you two like a perfect match…” Donte scoffed, shaking his head still wearing his obnoxious grin, taking out a cocktail stick to chew on as he watched the game. “You like gasoline to his fire, gonna send the damn house up with tha' fire you two spit, phew!”

Choosing to ignore him now and focus back on his game, Raph only shook his head, knowing Stacey was more than capable to keep his prying friend under control, but it didn’t stop him from looking up now and then. Just needed to reassure himself and make sure Donte wasn’t really pushing it, like he would always end up doing, making his younger brother look like a saint.

The game was beginning to wrap up, the pressure starting to pile up on Aaron’s shoulders as more people seemed to gather around them. He was losing precious space too, the crowd closing in so he couldn’t freely use area to make the shots he needed to. He was running up a sand dune, making a good few shots only to have Raph catch him up with on single one. Even in the space restriction he hadn’t faltered and it starting to make him sweat a little. Challenging his nerves and focusing, Aaron made a shot that landed him in the lead, for a moment, his crooked grin returning along with the small hope Raph would mess up due to his friends new habit of winding up his lady friend. Standing back, confident he was about to win, he gestured to the table. “No hard feelings,” he chuckled, holding his head high as he watched.

Deadpan, Raph glanced over to him, cracking his neck before stepping up to the table. Leaning down, he lined up his cue, taking a brief moment to calculate before smirking. “Nah, none at all.” Firing, he stood back without looking at the table and leant on his cue as Aaron had, listening to the last few of his balls were all pocketed, his trick shot perfectly winning him the game. Instantly, Aaron’s face dropped, the crowd erupting around them, cheering and clapping. Raph just stood and watched him smugly, winking before setting his cue back against the rack before sauntering over to Stacey. Bumping an elbow against the man beside her, he nodded his head in her direction, “I believe you owe her some money?”

“Ayy! Tha’s ma boy! Damn son, you cold as hell. He over there lookin’ like he about to cry,” Donte chimed, roughly patting Raph’s shoulder as the man reluctantly pulled out his wallet, slapping the money into Stacey’s awaiting hand with a sneer.

“Fuckin’ hell, I gotta stop makin’ bets... never been one for luck.”

Chuckling deeply, his shoulders bobbing a little, Raph shook his head, glancing over at Aaron who was now being jeered at by some of the locals. “Nah, your boy gotta stop runnin’ his mouth.” Receiving only an exaggerated eye roll as a response, the shorter man slid past to go and retrieve his friend, deciding now was the time for that much needed extra pint on his tab.

Tilting his head to face Stacey, Raphael quirked his scarred brow, still carrying a little smugness on his shoulders. “So, next round on you then, darlin’?” Glad that Donte was the one to showboat, disappearing off to soak up the atmosphere around the pool table behind them as if he were the winner, he took the chance to step closer to her. Just because he could, he leant in closer, inches away from her face as he reached past to pick up his own pint glass, downing it quickly with a smirk as she watched him intensely.

He was just as ruthless as she was and she loved it. Having him so close but not actually touching was brutal, and she kept her eyes locked on his after he finished his beer. Being that close, she could just discern his scent from the mixture of smells in the bar, which made it all that much harder to keep her distance. She’d have given anything at that moment to lazily slide her hands around his waist and test out his kissing skills too, but she couldn’t give him the validation, not just yet while he was still smug. She was fairly certain she was punishing herself more with the decision, but she was going to stick to her guns.

Lifting an eyebrow, she pursed her lips slightly with a nod. “Sure,” she agreed, folding the twenty dollar bill and flipping it up between her first and middle fingers, as if she meant to offer it up to him. Before he could react, she drew it closer, and with a flick of her wrist tucked it under the neckline of her tank and under the top edge of her bra. “You just gotta get it for yourself, first.”

Raph’s face was such a mix of emotions, she couldn’t help but laugh at seeing it. It was something in between flustered, shocked, appalled and wondering what the hell he was getting himself into. Tossing her hair over her shoulder, she strolled over to the table to release the catch, dropping the pool balls down with a loud clatter. Glancing over at him briefly before squatting at the end of the table slowly, the started pulling them out to rack the table up for him. If he wanted ruthless, she could play ruthless. Walking around to the other end of the table, he shook his head slowly as she drew herself back up to her full height with her cue, looking far too interested in chalking his own cue while she leaned forward to set the balls. Once she was satisfied, she pulled the triangle up, spinning it between her palms before stowing it back in the table. “Your break, handsome.”

Muttering something under his breath that she couldn’t hear over the band, she watched as he lined himself up. He had taken the opportunity of her racking to take off his jacket, and she was more than happy to watch the way his arms flexed as he moved, cuffs of his t-shirt tight around his biceps. Thinking to herself that he was pulling out the big guns in their match of will, she couldn’t help but giggle to herself about it as his break opened up the play at the table, too. Taking her own jacket off, she draped it over his, adjusting her denim shirt as she circled to the other side of the table to take a shot.

Truth of it was, after watching him, she knew he was better than she was. The real question was how far she wanted to push playing with the fire they were both fanning. Distracting him was fair play in her book, but she didn’t want to draw in anymore unnecessary attention, either. She made her shots cleanly, fairly, and stepped back for his turn. Looking up, she found his eyes on her and not assessing the table between them, the amber seeming to glow under the orange tinged light over it. She smiled at him and got another smirk with a wink, which she hadn’t expected, and flushed her cheeks a little.

Satisfied with the reaction he had gotten, Raph slowly stepped up to the table, only needing a glance to determine where he needed to take his shot. Lowering himself, adjusting his cue beneath him along the table, he let out a deep chuckle and without looking up to her she spoke in a raspy voice. “You’re enjoying yourself there, aren’t you?”

Determined to keep her cool, Stacey shrugged nonchalantly, trying to keep her eyes on the game and not catch the fiery embers that darted over to her. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Happy with his line, he took his shot, but didn’t move far from the table, leaning against the edge with a smirk. “Oooh, I think you do, darlin’... I think you do.”

Watching the balls stir before rolling slowly to a stop, she bit her lip, finally giving in to meet his eyes. “Maybe. Wouldn’t you like to know?” Swaying her way to the other end of the table to him, she raised her cue to line her own shot, only hesitating when she heard a disapproving hum. Raising a brow, she tilted her head, shooting him an accusing look. “There a problem now?”

“Mmm, I wouldn’t do that, that’s all.” He wasn’t about to call himself a professional, but he wasn’t about to let her miss a perfect trick shot if he could help it, even if it would impact his own game. Not that he truly cared while playing against her.

“Oh, and I suppose you would know a know a better way to do it?”

Clicking his tongue against his teeth at her sass, his grin creased his face a little as he chuckled. Standing upright, he made his way to her side of the pool table. “Here.” Leaning his cue against the wall, he moved in behind her, pressing in close before leaning over her. Resting his hands on top of hers, taking hold of her cue over her hands, controlling the movements with his fingers, he adjusted her line. His chin hovering over the crook of her neck, making sure it was the side where her hair wasn’t, leaving it exposed, he angled his head so his lips were nearly brushing against her ear.

“Jus’ move a little to the left... just like that... and you get the perfect shot.” His voice was deep, husky and purposely low, just for her to hear. Tightening his grip so he took full control, moving her hand too, he pulled back the cue and fired, watching the ball hit perfectly against the others, resulting in two balls being perfectly pocketed.

Swallowing hard, she genuinely struggled with keeping her cool. A large part of her wanted to simply snag the front of his shirt, tow him outside and take him home right then and there. She couldn’t remember ever having had that much chemistry with anyone else, and it was nearly impossible to resist. His grip had lingered after the shot, his hand sliding up her arm as he slowly stood back up. Turning while he was still close, she rested a hand against his chest, looking up at him and wondering with every fiber of her being what would happen if she were to just push up onto her tiptoes and kiss him right then and there.

“The perfect shot,” she replied, her voice low and slow despite her best efforts. She felt like her entire body was on fire, and she could just burn forever. Taking a step to his side, she looked down and tucked her hair behind her ear, torturing herself with the distance she knew she needed to keep her head straight. “I’m gonna go grab that next round.” Sliding over to grab their glasses, downing the rest of her own to attempt to quench a thirst it couldn’t, she gave him a wink back before walking back up to the bar.

Keeping her back turned in an attempt to cool herself down, she waited at the bar to order. Pulling her hair up off her neck and wishing she hadn’t forgotten a hair tie, she looked up and down the shelves of alcohol without paying much attention to them. She was actively trying to find anything to take more focus, so she wasn’t simply standing around and gaping at him like a teenage girl with a hopeless crush… even if that was exactly how she felt.

It took longer than she expected as a patron had the bartender caught in a conversation, but she eventually got the beers and felt more cooled off, even keeled. That was, until she turned around. She didn’t generally consider herself a jealous or possessive person, but when her eyes settled on the woman posing herself at the end of the pool table and chatting Raph up, she felt her hackles go up. Gripping the glasses a little tighter, she decided to keep her composure, and walked over calmly, setting them on the table they were using. Raph’s eyes met hers, his expression helpless and apologetic. Picking her cue back up, she walked over slowly, her eyebrows raised.

“It’s your shot, darlin’,” Raph said to her as she came up next to him, turning himself to face her and not the woman still leaning against the end of the table, arching her back inward in a display of what she obviously thought were her best "assets." Giving him a small smile, she moved to line up her next shot, which the woman obviously took as her cue to start her conversation back up.

“The way you beat Aaron was really impressive. From the looks of it, you shouldn’t have any trouble winning this table, too,” she purred, twirling the ends of her hair with her fingers. Looking up from her shot with a deadpan glare, Stacey went unnoticed, the woman’s eyes only for Raph who was looking exceedingly uncomfortable with the situation. “What are your plans after this win, big guy?”

“We’re here together,” Raph answered, his tone even but void of the life it had when he was bantering with Stacey. She took that to heart, smirking softly to herself as she took her shot and it bounced off the bumper into the pocket. He was keeping the woman in his peripherals, but his eyes on Stacey, which she appreciated.

Any normal person would’ve taken that answer as a cue to move on to someone else, but they weren’t that lucky. This particular person seemed to take it as a challenge, sizing Stacey up with her eyes obviously before following Raph around the table as he went to take his next shot. “Oh honey, I’m sure I could make you a better offer than she is, and definitely show you a better time.”

Raph’s face turned into a disgusted scowl, finally looking at the woman, and Stacey stood upright, gripping her cue tightly as she took the woman in her sights. “A better offer? I’m gonna choose to ignore the implications of that if you just walk away. Now.”

The woman looked her up and down again, disdain clear on her face. “It’s a free country. I don’t have to do shit.”

“Stace, we can just go find somewhere else…” Raph started, but trailed off as she held up a finger to stop him.

“No, we were here first. On a date, and we came together. So she can just step the fuck off.”

“You ain’t even his ol’ lady, I’ve never seen you in here with him before. And you sure are some kinda poser bitch if you came in here on the back of his bike instead of your own like a real woman. Like me.”

“He’s not interested in you,” Stacey snarled, stalking around the table towards her. “I rode with him because I wanted to, thank you. It’s a helluva lot better than whatever Goldwing piece of shit you rolled your fat ass in on, needing that reverse gear? Or did you just hide your scooter in back where no one could see your shame?” She could feel her neck heating back up for an entirely different reason than before, but she couldn’t stop herself. It would be just her luck for that one chick to start trouble. Why hadn’t Donte tried snagging her instead?

Raphael was lost, standing awkwardly watching the two woman, not knowing entirely what to do with himself. Stacey had positioned herself so she was between him and the woman, a situation he had never found himself before. She could clearly hold her own, been there done that, this wasn’t her first rodeo but it didn’t stop the feeling of wanting to step in. To “help," but it was clear this wasn’t his battle to fight, nor did he want to be the obnoxious tool in trying to aid her and end up offending her instead.

It happened so quickly, the woman’s hand raising to slap Stacey sharply across the cheek, the sound just enough to make him wince. However, it wasn’t him that snapped. Before he had chance to even start, Stacey reeled and punched the woman in the jaw, sending her stumbling backwards from the shock and using her hands to clutch her face rather than balance herself. Wide eyed, Raph watched in awe, darting his eyes between the woman being pulled to her feet by some of the locals and Stacey who stared her down like a wild animal. “Fuck, woman…” he managed to murmur out a little breathlessly, wanting nothing more than to pull her close against him and kiss her. He got so far, taking her arm to pull her in close, but was suddenly thrown from his train of thought by a hand ripping his shoulder backwards, jerking and turning him to face a familiar snarling man.

Aaron squared his shoulders, snarling and baring his teeth, standing inches from Raph with a clenched fist in his shirt. “Typical fucking nigger, gotta bust in here, assert your dominance and smack around women.” There was venom in his voice, his hot breath making Raph wrinkle his nose and return the toothy snarl.

“Excuse me?” he snapped, shoving Aaron roughly backwards, releasing his hold.

“You fuckin’ heard me.” Raph had heard it all before, either the burning words of bigots or physical abuse thrown his way. In his youth it had bothered him, but age had calloused over such trivial things, and it was like water off a duck’s back, relatively easy to ignore. Reacting was what they wanted, trying to bait out a reaction that would validate their insult. He let it go over his head, but something in him did snap, igniting an inferno when Aaron choose his following words poorly. “You’re an animal, first Sharon an’ I wouldn't be surprised if you dragged this bitch off to an alley somewhere, too.”

Faster than he ever had before, with all of his weight, Raph swung a hard clenched fist into Aaron’s nose, an awful crunch heard over the music from the direct impact. He hit the floor in a heap, blood streaking from his nose and his vision blurred. “Don’t you dare insult her.” There was long pause where everyone stopped and watched the drama, eyes on Raph and the crumbled form of Aaron on the floor before anyone moved or spoke up.

Voices started to murmur in the crowd, evolving into jeering and it was clear a storm was brewing. Reaching back to usher Stacey behind him and against the pool table, he dropped his stance a little, readying himself for the inevitable. If Aaron had chosen to leave the insult where it began, he would have left it, backed down, but something inside him had come alive. A protective and possessive beast with only her as it’s lord and master, the only one he’d let hold the chain around his neck. She was his to protect.

“Point fuckin proven,” the weaselly friend of Aaron piped up, rolling up his sleeves after passing off Sharon to someone else in the crowd before stalking toward Raph, a few other men stepping in too.

“I wouldn’t, if you wanna have any fuckin’ teeth left.”

Scoffing at his response, the man looked over his shoulders to the others coming to back him up. “I think it’s you who’s gonna be losing teeth.” Raising his fist in front of him, he dropped his upright stance to mirror Raph’s, watching him and ready to swing a fist.

Gripping the pool cue in his other hand, Raph cracked his neck, twirling it quickly through his fingers like a bo staff before slapping the weighed end into his right hand, he launched it up against the man’s chin, throwing his head back with heavy thwack. Before he fell back entirely, Raph then launched a heavy kick into his chest, sending him flying backwards and into the two men behind him. They collapsed unceremoniously into each other, cussing him out, fumbling and gathering themselves up while others seemed to step in into their place.

Stacey stood in a mild state of shock at how quickly everything had spun out of control, and feeling no small amount of guilt that it was likely herself that had started it. Raph’s speed and precision at reacting impressed her, however, putting himself protectively in front of her once it became something beyond two women fighting. She was incensed that Aaron had accused him of hitting the Sharon chick, and almost piped up to defend him, but he obviously hadn’t needed it.

The bar was obviously an establishment that wasn’t surprised by fights, made apparent by the fact that the bartender kept an eye on what was going on but made no effort to quell the brewing storm. The band continued playing, the driving bassline seeming to encourage more men to step up in front of Raph. Two of them charged forward at once, seeming to adhere to the thought that there was strength in numbers. They thought wrong, the furious man in front of her charging right back at them, wielding the cue like a true weapon, spinning it between his hands to strike them both faster than they could even react to.

A third man came in from the side, attempting to flank Raph and catch him off guard, but Stacey wasn’t having it. “Hey, asshat!” she yelled, catching his attention just long enough to pause his charge to look at her, and it was all she needed. Snatching a ball off the table, she launched it the short distance directly at the man’s head, it connecting solidly against his temple and dropping him like a sack of rocks.

Just as another man moved in up to the table, making an obvious move towards her, likely in an attempt to gain leverage, Raph spun the cue back behind him, connecting cleanly with the back of the man’s head without even looking at him. “Holy fuck,” she whispered in awe as she recoiled away from the strike, wondering exactly what kind of training he had. She’d never seen someone look so cool, so precise and in control of a bar fight.

They had gathered the entirety of the bar around them, just about, and it looked like it was unfortunately turning into a challenge of David and Goliath, new men rolling up their sleeves at the chance to take down the giant when the man in front of him failed to. One was actually able to block the cue and it snapped against his forearm, and it was a credit to Raph’s cool that he actually had the time to look at it in disappointment and betrayal before aiming what was left in a direct throw to stop a new fight that had started in the back corner. She gave him a quick whistle, tossing her own cue at him simultaneously, not doubting that he would catch it. Pushing herself up onto the table backwards, she bent her legs and spun to stand, navigating the remaining balls on the table to make it back to their jackets, gesturing for a bystander to hand them over. The old man did with a chuckle, watching the scene with amusement. She figured it was kind of like NASCAR, it wasn’t a good race without a crash, and they were giving them a doozy. “Gimme the bridge stick!” she barked out over the din, holding her free hand out. He handed it over as well, taking it from the cue rack with a laugh.

“You two are quite the pair!” he shouted.

“First date!” she answered over her shoulder, bumping the stained glass light over the table as she made her way back, the swaying light making the shadows around the table dance. Raph had backed up closer to the table again, not appearing to feel cornered at all, but simply remaining close to her.

“They ain’t givin’ up,” he growled over his shoulder.

“Not with the prospect of taking down Goliath to brag about,” she answered, crouching on the table behind him. “Stand still but pull in the guy on your left.”

He gave her a brief inquisitive look before making it look like he was going to turn and face the bloodied but still standing man on his right, intent on making him stay down. The man on the left took the bait, and Stacey laid the bridge stick against Raph's shoulder as a guide, shoving the metal bridge directly at the man’s face, smashing him directly in the bridge of the nose. He gave her another brief look that seemed like he might laugh, but immediately took care of the other man instead.

“So are we cleaning the place out or making a break for it?” she said, keeping close to the side of his head, looking around for another possible target.

Pumping up his shoulders and bouncing a little on the balls of his feet, Raph nodded his head toward her, as if tempted by the former idea rather than the latter. “Well, you bettin’ I could clear it out?” Flashing her a quick smirk over his shoulder, amused by her thinly veiled glare and the upward turn of her lips, he huffed a chuckle before snapping his attention to the man closing in on his right. Without skipping a beat, Raph drove the heel of his boot into the man’s shin, following it up with a sharp elbow to his chest, his other hand then slamming a palm heavily into the same spot, the force of which dramatically sending the man flying and crashing into a table. Dropping low and swinging a leg behind him in a sweeping kick, without looking, he took the legs out of another man about to try his luck in flanking him. Failing miserably, he landed heavily on his side, letting out a roar of pain that Raph only grunted at, a lopsided snarl on his lips. Seeing how prepared and aware he was, a few wiser men thought twice about their odds, backing up with hands held in surrender and let others take their place. It was nothing on Raphael who happily and easily took them down, either with a simple block or a counter and misdirection, some kind of twisted pleasure in seeing the human dominos fall over each other.

Admiring his sense of style, even while fighting, Stacey watched him knock back each attempt to take him down with grace and ease. They were like a tower of cards collapsing and being ripped apart by a raging wind. As much as it was entertaining to see, the men who managed to get back up were starting to step things up a little. Beginning to wield whatever they could get their hands on, bottles and pool cues were brought to the fight, random objects and furniture being thrown into the crowds as the small fist fight turned into a full brawl that had spread through the entire establishment, grizzly bikers starting their own amongst themselves just for the fun of it. It was a riot getting that was getting more and more out of hand.

In a weird way, Raph was thankful it had escalated, seeing how some of his targets were dragged off and into other fights around the room, meaning less for him to need to take down. However, it raised the issue of Stacey’s safety. Cursing under his breath, he looked over her shoulder to check she was still behind him on the table, and was happily met by her face close to his own. “Okay so, bets are off?” she quickly chimed, ducking into him a little from a flying bottle, squeezing her hand against his shoulder. Her face was a picture, grinning brightly although her eyes swirling with concern, like she was caught in the midst of two expressions. It rumbled a small chuckle in his chest, the fact she looked worried yet still so happy to be where she was.

“Bets are off,” he agreed, shaking his head. Looking toward the bar, it was like she could read his mind, like they had a silent conversation he was only half aware of. Just as he thought of it, she slid off the table and on to his back, where his hands waited to hold her thighs up, shrugging her weight on to him before quickly heading through the bustling crowd. “We’re gettin’ outta here.” She did nothing to restrict his movement, pressing close against him, keeping tucked in but let him still have his shoulders which he used to barge through the larger men in the crowd. The closer they got to the bar, the more it was like a mosh pit, the band seeming to have picked up their tempo to fit the scene around them.

Finding a gap in the sea of people, he took a chance and let her down once she had a clear path to escape. Shepherding her in front of him, he covered her back, not needing to direct or tell her where to go. She seemed to know what he was thinking before he even knew himself. Following close, he kept on high alert, not trusting any of the intoxicated bikers with a five foot barge pool. It was luck that had him notice it, stumbling over someone’s leg with a snarl that turned his head to see a man aiming a chair in Stacey’s direction. Darting forward, he pulled her back to him, using his body as a shield as the chair came crashing down against his back and shoulder blades. Gritting his teeth hard, ignoring the pain ripping across his muscles, he held her tightly against his chest as he adjusted, before releasing her with a growl. “Go… get outside.”

She hesitated, but only for a moment, quickly moving off again. Once she was gone and out of harm’s way, Raph squared himself, snatching one of the broken chair legs from the floor and flipping it over in his hand. Spinning on his heels, he swung backward, the hardwood colliding with the rabid mans jaw with a crunch, flipping him sideways off the table he stood on from the sheer force. Tossing the wood away, he pumped his shoulders, huffing heavily before taking off after Stacey. Relief washed over him as he jogged outside, glad to see she was still in one piece as he had left her. Giving her a lopsided grin before leaning forward, resting his hands on his knees as he tried not to wince at the burning pain in his back. “Never say I don’t take ya anywhere fun,” he chuckled dryly, breathing deeply before standing up straight again.

She watched with relief as he came out of the bar behind her, small groups of other patrons following suit as they found their bikes to head out before the trouble got called in. It was obvious he was in pain, and even with the noise and bustle of the crowd, she’d have to be deaf and blind not to realize why. The fact he hadn’t even hesitated to take the chair for her was something she’d think about long after, not accustomed to having her safety put first by anyone but Jax. “If Jax asks if I had anything to do with that, you say no, or I’m never hearing the end of it,” she joked along with him.

“No promises,” he chuckled, rolling his shoulders upright and looking down at her with his scarred brow lifted. “You always punchin’ women in the mug at places like this? This a trend I shoulda heard about first?”

“Only when they hit first,” she quipped dryly, sticking her tongue out at him and passing him his jacket to put on. It wasn’t a trend, and she couldn’t necessarily say her protective nature had extended beyond the people at the shop, again, with Jax being the main person it applied to, if ever. Her life had been an exercise of survival, looking out mainly for herself, but there was something about him, something that gave her stirring hopes that maybe there was a chance at something more than that. “You all right? That chair had to suck.”

Grimacing at the increased noise from the bar as someone was physically thrown out the door and the band abruptly stopped, he tossed his chin in a gesture towards his bike before grabbing his own helmet and slinging a leg over. “Wasn’t fun. But it’s fine, nothin’ I can’t handle.”

Tightening the chin strap of her own helmet before hopping back on the back of his bike, she smoothed her hands gently over his upper back. The muscles were tight and the leather just barely fit comfortably over their expanse, leaving her idly marveling at the size of him, and not for the first time. A hit like that would’ve crippled her in pain, she was all too aware of that, and for him to shrug it off like it was nothing only left her feeling all that much more protective of him. “Thank you for doing it,” she said, her voice a little softer than she would’ve liked as the engine roared to life.

“S’nothin’,” he replied over his shoulder, seeming cool as ever and yet somehow a little softer than he had been before as well. Turning back forward, he flipped his visor down before turning the bike out of the lot slowly, accelerating rapidly through the gears as they hit the street, leaving her holding onto him firmly.

***

Chapter 4: Burgers, Bikes & Beginnings

Summary:

Leaving the chaos behind them at the bar, Raph and Stacey find quieter moments to connect.

Much like their ride to the bar, she noted him weaving through neighborhoods and boroughs, likely simply enjoying the ride as much as she was. Honestly, she would’ve been quite content to ride along wherever with him, feeling at home behind him, never uncomfortable or uncertain with how he maneuvered the bike. She had plenty of years on bikes under her belt to be picky about it, too, so it was a pleasant revelation. Grinning to herself, she noted that his riding skills were as smooth as he was, and tried not to let her mind wander with the idea, without significant success.

Pulling up to a light in a neighborhood familiar to her, she leaned forward against him, giving his shoulder a tap before gesturing at an old school drive-in restaurant coming up on their right. She’d been there a few times before, and the food was just as you’d expect it to be, greasy and perfect, and her stomach was beginning to protest the lack of food, especially since she’d only had time to grab a snack for lunch after spending most of her time on her hair and makeup.

Rolling the bike carefully into a parking spot underneath the covered spots, the fluorescent light giving a flicker that reflected off the black tank of the bike and his helmet, he cut the engine and settled it steadily for her to dismount again. Pulling off his helmet and looking at the old, faded menu list posted next to the parking spot, he looked at her curiously. “I take you out on a date, we get into a bar fight, and now we’re getting food at an old drive-in? My rep is completely ruined.”

Laughing, knowing he was likely just as content with the evening as she was, she shrugged and dropped her helmet onto her seat before raking her fingers through her hair to detangle it a bit. “You’re onto my secret plan to keep you all to myself. Punch women, ruin reputations, next I’ll have the keys to your bike.”

“Oh, that’s low,” he replied, hunching protectively over the handlebars and scowling at her.

Her laughter increased, knowing that with any biker, messing with their bike was like insulting their religion. She’d never do something like that, and only said what she had to elicit the look she had gotten. Content with her victory, she spun to read the menu, resting her weight prominently on one leg, jutting her hip out.

The waitress eventually rolled out on her skates with her pad of paper and pen to take their order, with Raph looking oddly satisfied when she unabashedly ordered herself a bacon cheeseburger with fries and milkshake. While she was happy he wasn’t put off by her food choice, she thought to herself in amusement about what on earth other women would have ordered at a place like that.

Sitting down on the edge of the curb out from under the overhang, she looked up at the sky, forever looking to see if there was anything but the moon visible, and always just a little disappointed when it didn’t change. Carefully lowering his hulking form down to the curb, he joined her, leaning back against the bases of his palms and stretching his legs out to cross at the ankles. Her own legs were stretched out ahead of her next to his, and even at her taller than normal height as a woman, they looked short and skinny next to his, something of a novelty to her.

Their order came out shortly after, the two of them setting the tray meant to hang from a car window on the concrete between them. As the waitress rolled away, she watched, asking him, “You ever roller skate?”

Giving her a scrunched up, amused look, he gestured to himself with the wrapped burger he had just picked up. “Do I look like I skate?”

Cackling and leaning forward, amused by the response, she kept giggling as she picked up her own burger. “Me neither. I mean, I tried once. I had a friend for a while who got a pair for her birthday, and she let me try them on the sidewalk. She had been skating back and forth on that sidewalk for at least an hour and when I finally got onto them, I managed to find the biggest chunk of gravel ever to gravel and it stopped the wheels dead, launching me face first into the sidewalk,” she explained, driven on by his look of amused horror. “I took all the skin off my chin, I still have a scar. See?”

Squinting a little as he looked for the faded scar, his face relaxed into a wide grin, his shoulders starting to bob as he began to chuckle. It started off soft, slowly erupting into a deep belly laugh as the image replayed in his head, infused with the image of her as an awkward teen. Like something from a cheesy teen comedy, big hair, braces and for some reason trashy late 80’s clothing, which only made it funnier the more he tried not to think it.

Leaning back as he laughed, unable to contain it anymore, he let out a loud hollering laugh, his face scrunching up as he did with tears welling up in his eyes. Something about it tickled him, along with her looking mildly concerned beside him. Watching him laugh only made her laugh along with him, for a reason she couldn’t really find.

“W-why...why are you laughing so much?” she managed to get out between snickering, raising a brow as he tried to tame his laughter, shaking his head and waving her off. “Is my pain that funny to you?”

“Nothin’... no no,” he snorted, wiping at his eyes, still grinning from ear to ear. “It’s jus’... the image in my head.”

“It was a sight to be seen, no doubt. Thank god cell phones weren’t around to capture my shame in 4K. Looks like you have had plenty of moments yourself… if it’s alright to mention.”

She tread carefully, not sure if it would be a boundary or not. She had always noticed the scars that adorned his skin, some faded and silvery against his dark skin, while others looked freshly sealed, like they were yet to be tallied with the others. They even weaved with the ink on his arms creating patterns that bleed out and created new art, almost like Kintsugi on his skin.

“Nah, I ain’t worried ‘bout that.” Raph waved off her concern lazily. “Guess it’s kinda like war scars, although some are from some really dumb shit…” Tapering off, he bit into his burger finally. He looked out into the night without truly focusing on anything, trying not to see the curiosity in her eyes as she peered up at him.

“Oh, now you have to share. I shared my ‘dumb shit’, so spill!”

Bobbing his head to the side, chewing as he thought, he tried to gather the words to explain himself.The more he thought and remembered, however, the more his face threatened to smile and laugh again. Focusing hard on not choking as he swallowed, he snickered and licked at his lips. “Alright, fine.”

Resting his hands down against his thighs, chewing the inside of his lip, he sighed heavily. “So, we all got our hobbies ‘n shit, some of which can be… different, not what you’d expect from someone.”

“Now you’re a man of many words, just for filler? Get to the point.”

“Alright, woman, jeez.” Chuckling, he quirked a brow at her, looking her up and down with mock offense as she fluttered her eyelashes innocently. “Okay! So, I guess long story short, I stabbed myself in the thigh with a knitting needle.” Aggressively biting into his burger again, he watched her expression expectantly, the corners of his mouth teasing a smile as her face creased into a variety of expressions before giggling wildly.

“Sorry?” she managed to eke out, the full restraint of mirth defying her composure with a crack of her voice.

Nodding, still with food in his mouth, his shoulders bobbed silently as he was still desperate not to laugh and spit food. Swallowing, nudging the corner of his mouth against his shoulder, he shrugged a little. “It was pissin’ me off.”

“So, you’re telling me. You. All six foot and then some, gruff, tough biker you. Knits. And your ‘war scars’ are caused by knitting needles, which you do as a hobby in your spare time?” There were a few too many pauses in her sentences, and he could tell she was doing everything in her power not to laugh, and close to failing miserably.

“I find it relaxin’!” he stated brashly, although it tapered off a little unsure, embarrassment creeping in where he always seemed confident with anything and everything he did.

Noticing he seemed a little embarrassed by his admission, Stacey shoved a bite of food into her mouth in the hopes of stifling her mirth, and immediately regretted the decision. Turning her face away from him she tried to silently laugh and not choke on the bite as she did so, though she was keenly aware that her shoulders bobbing were probably giving her away. Struggling to get the bite down, she gave the milkshake a shot, only struggling more.

“Out with it already, before you kill yourself trying not to,” Raph scoffed, throwing his free hand up in surrender.

Wiping tears from her silent laughter away, she couldn’t look him in the face if she had any hope of getting herself under control. Like he had mentioned to her, it was the mental image she was struggling with, though hers had gotten a little ridiculous. “No, it isn’t the knitting, I’m actually jealous of that,” she wheezed out, putting a hand out towards him to try and ensure he knew she meant no offense. “Never could get the hang of it. It’s just… just… all I see is you all crouched low and ready for a fight,” she set her burger down on her lap, clenching her fists and snarling, laughter freely escaping into her tone. “But you’re fighting this Edward Scissorhands guy, only he’s got… knitting needles.... Or oh god… Wolverine, and instead of claws… and ‘knit’ instead of ‘snikt’...”

The laughter had completely taken her over by that point, and she found herself laughing almost to the point of being silent, leaned forward over her lap as the fluorescent lights blurred her vision, eyes filling with tears. She heard him chuckling, whether it was at her laughing or if he agreed with what she thought was funny, she didn’t know. The mental image was simply too funny, and she took long breaths in an attempt to calm down, wiping at her eyes.

“Ya good now?” he asked, his tone gruff but amused as his boots scraped against the asphalt of the parking lot, switching the way they were crossed.

“I think so,” she managed to get out with a sniffle, taking a more successful drink of her shake. “I’m sorry. It really was just the mental image. I think knitting is cool, I never learned to do much other than work on bikes with my hands, and Jax taught me that instead of trying to hit crap when I was angry.”

“Relatable lesson. Jax did?” he asked after finishing his bite, seeming grateful for the change in subject. Lifting an eyebrow at her, she tried not to think too hard about the scar lest it set her off laughing again. “You guys related?”

Starting to shake her head to deny it, it turned into more of an undecided shrug. “Not biologically. Chosen family, I guess. Met him when I was teen, helped me out. Complicated childhood, you know the trope.” Taking another bite, she had a hard time not envisioning it as stuffing her foot in her mouth. It was a topic she wanted to veer away from as quickly as possible, she was enjoying herself too much to scare him off with the sordid details of her childhood that unfortunately still took effect on her daily life from time to time.

He seemed to notice her shift, and took it in stride, letting it taper off but picking back up before the silence got too awkward. “Chosen family ain’t a bad thing,” he answered, his voice a little quieter than it normally was. Part of her wanted to find out what that meant to him, but that might just open her bag of worms in the process, so she simply nodded in agreement, tapping the toes of her boots together.

When the silence stretched out after that, she found herself blurting out, “I drink tea.” His expression was one of quizzical shock, obviously not keeping up with her random thought train that had taken her there. “I don’t have unexpected hobbies, but I drink tea. Jax laughs and tells me I’m wasting my time on 'not the good kind of weed water,' and I need to be drinking something that’ll ‘put hair on my chest.’ I don’t think that’s what they mean when they talk about contouring cleavage, though.”

Listening to her talk, trying to catch up with her train of thought, he kept chewing his mouthful slowly so as to not distort or miss anything she said. Although as he did his lips began to curve into a smirk at her confession, amused by how awkward she seemed to be about it, even through her nonchalant exterior which he had quickly come to notice and note about her. Her comment about contouring cleavage had him nearly choke, inhaling a little too hard and needing to cough, hunching forward with a hand over his mouth as he desperately tried to swallow his food and laughter. Managing to save himself, he then sat back, releasing his laughter from the pit of his stomach, needing to have it out of him before he surely choked again.

“Is that even a thing?!” Raph wheezed, thumping a fist against his chest as he tried to even himself out. “Women don’t actually do that, do they?”

“Unfortunately, it’s more common than you think.” she giggled, trying to calm herself down from her own laughter, more so at his reaction than what she had said.

He was grinning from ear to ear, watching her smile brightly as their laughter tapered off, settling into a more relaxed atmosphere after having both exhausted themselves. “Is this another thing I should be worried about?” he asked in a suspicious low tone, quirking his scarred brow at her with a smirk. He received a slap against his arm, a light scoff on her lips as she rolled her eyes.

“Excuse me, do I look the type?”

“Nah nah, I ain’t sayin’ that. Though you are full of surprises, anythin’s possible.”

Her loud gasp was one of mockery, once again playing her card of being offended, complete with a dainty hand to her chest as if appalled by his comment. “Isn’t it rude to assume about people, especially a lady?” she sneered, her voice a higher octave than normal as she teased a poorly pronounced British accent.

Chuckling and shaking his head, watching her with intense amber eyes, he waited out her act to see how long she could hold it. It wasn’t long, her scowl creasing into a smile as he scrunched his face into a disgusted snarl. “Sorry ma’am, didn’t realize I was speakin’ to the Queen of England… want me to curtsy to ya next? I mean, I would’a brought a dress an’ all, but I’d have to ride Belle side saddle and I ain’t about that life.”

Satisfied that he had “won,” his prize being her erupting in a fit of giggles again, he watched her smugly while crushing the wrapper from his burger in his fist. Waiting her out, he brought a leg up so he could rest an arm over his knee. He shook his head slowly at her once she graced him with her emerald gaze again.

“Ya finally done? Must be a really great image you have in your head of my down time from work, now,” he chuckled, unable to take his eyes off of hers now they had the contact, feeling his heart thud heavily in his chest at her smile.

Even flushed and eyes watery from the tears of her laughter, her hair still a little tangled as she held a greasy burger within her hands carefully, she was the most beautiful person he had ever seen. He wasn’t sure what he had done to be gifted with her presence, let alone a date with her, but he wasn’t about to go chasing answers for once. Rather than assuming anything, he simply enjoyed the time with her, taking every moment he could to remember the details. Her smile and the warmth in her eyes, the way she tucked her hair behind her hair or tilted her head at him, committing it all to memory in case he never had the chance to again. He wasn’t a religious man, but he prayed deep down to whatever deity listening that there would be another chance to.

“It’s the best, it’s already framed and up on my mental wall, forever to enjoy,” she answered, spreading a hand in an arc in front of her for dramatic flair, finally peeling her eyes away from him to take the last few bites of her own food. She’d never been so relaxed around anyone else before, and the feeling of comfort was welcome, albeit strange. Old ghosts haunted the edges of her consciousness, telling her that she was awkward and obnoxious, that the date would be a one off, then he’d get away as quickly as possible. Something about him kept them at bay, though, made it easy to believe he was truly enjoying himself.

“That wasn’t the way I figured I’d be memorialized, but I guess there’s worse ways to go,” he chuckled, tossing his wrapper an impossible distance to the trashcan and sinking it easily.

“Oh come *on*,” she groaned, tipping her head back and wadding up her own wrapper as she finished chewing. “That was a lucky shot. Had to be.” Lifting his eyebrow at her, an expressive trait she was already finding absolutely impossible to resist, he held out a hand for her wrapper in a silent challenge. Smacking it down into his palm, she folded her arms and watched as he repeated the action flawlessly. “What the hell?!”

“What?” he laughed, looking at her with eyes alight with amusement.

“You’re absolutely impossible,” she answered, shaking her head but unable to wipe the grin off her face. He was talking about her being full of surprises, but she felt like a garden variety human next to him, as if he were some kind of super human or demi-god. It wasn’t in a demeaning way at all, it didn’t make her feel less of herself, just impressed at being in his presence. “Keep this up and I’m gonna be punching more ladies to keep them away.”

“Over a wrapper? I doubt it,” he chuckled, examining his knuckles as he flexed and relaxed the hand.

“Not the wrapper,” she sighed amiably, running her hands through her hair. Was it possible that he was that talented and charming, but had no idea? It seemed ridiculous, he had to, they weren’t in a chick flick. Though, in deeper consideration, most of the truly good men she was aware of generally didn’t know they were good people. Jax figured he was just a crusty old man. So there was a chance he didn’t know. She looked at him, wishing she could see through his thick outer shell, the front she knew they both put up. They were comfortable, easy, spending time together, but she knew in her gut they were both the kind of people that took time to truly open up.

“Nevermind,” she finally finished, blushing a little and looking away, hoping that he couldn’t read minds, too. She had plenty she was keeping behind her own tough front, she couldn’t imagine what his would be, but she was glad she wasn’t alone in taking time with it. Nothing ruined a date faster than having someone push for details that you weren’t ready to give, and they’d been doing so well.

Silently curious about what she could possibly mean, his mind drawing up a ridiculous idea that she was complimenting him and being genuine, he chewed the inside of his lip as he focused a little too intently back on his hands. He never was a talker, never one to speak of how he felt, but in that moment his feelings had him even more tongue tied. There was something about her that ignited something within him, somewhere deep down in the forgotten place of his soul that cried out for her. It made him feel weak yet stronger at the same time, for the first time feeling vulnerable with his own thoughts about her. It scared him and gave him a rush all at once.

Clicking his tongue against his teeth, peeling his eyes away from his hands as he clenched them into fists, he peered over at her through the loose tendrils of his hair, fearing the silence was getting stale between them. He couldn’t bring himself to ask what she implied, afraid of the answer, but a part of him found a small thrill in not hearing it verbally. There was a spark between them and he enjoyed watching it light up through the smoke, unable to bring himself to clear it away.

“It’s gettin’ late…” he stated quietly, nodding back toward his bike with a soft smile. “I should probably relieve you of my presence, don’t want your old man thinkin’ worse of me for keepin’ ya out too late.” He tapered off as he looked out and away across the parking lot. Self deprecation was an old coping mechanism to deal with anxiety, finding it easier to point out faults before anyone else had the chance to. He was preparing himself for the inevitable end of the night, the end of their date and the end of them talking, surely. It was difficult to suppress the knot in his stomach as he clenched his jaw. Nothing ever lasted, whether it was possessions or relationships, they all crumbled eventually and faded away to become ghosts in his mind. That night would likely be no different, as much as it tore at his heart to think of in that light.

Even after the night had felt like a success, bar fight, slander and insults aside, they had got along like a house on fire. She was like fuel to his fire, yet she kept the flames under control, unafraid of getting burnt. She enabled him yet focused him. It was almost like he couldn’t allow himself to enjoy himself for once, the dark corners of his mind telling him it was a lie, that he was undeserving of it.

“I think he’d be more surprised if you brought me back at a reasonable hour.”

Her playful tone made him shake his head, squinting a little as she grinned, giving her faux scowl.

“Well I’m damned either way then.” Raph sighed, his posture defeated but his smirk said otherwise. Heaving himself his feet, he pivoted on a heel to face her, offering a hand out to pull her up. As carefully as he could, he held her hand within his, allowing her to stand up without crowding her personal space. Shrugging his jacket up on to his shoulders, he quirked a brow. “Ya good?”

“Yeah yeah, I’m good.”

Smiling up at him, her green eyes sparkling in the neon light from the diner, it took every inch of restraint to not just close the distance and kiss her. The soft smile on her full lips was almost too much to resist, but he had to. She may not appreciate or reciprocate the feeling, and more importantly, he wasn’t about to make the sleazy move of sharing their first kiss in a parking lot at a greasy diner.

Swallowing hard and keeping his composure, he smiled and nodded, gesturing with a slight bow toward his beloved bike. “Ladies first.”

Giving him a very dramatic curtsy complete with hand flourishes, she giggled and stepped past him towards the bike to pick up her helmet, though not nearly as quickly as she could’ve. Most evenings she was content to head home, get into something comfortable and relax. She never had much desire for the social scene, never quite getting along with most women, as they never seemed to share enough interests to keep a decent conversation. Men were alright, but a large portion of them were looking for something from her she didn’t want to reciprocate, or they were put off by her attitude or personality. None of which upset her terribly, she was used to a solitary life at that point, but it didn’t mean that she never got lonely. It was even more rare for her to find someone she got along with so effortlessly, and she found herself resistant to let that go.

He seemed to be moving slow as well, in no hurry to put on his own helmet as he gracefully sat astride his motorcycle, righting it up with both feet and clicking the kickstand into place with a deft switch of his boot. Keeping her visor up as she fastened the strap, she felt like there were so many things she ought to say; how much fun she’d had, how awesome he was, how easy it was to be around him… but all of it seemed cheesy and out of place.

As he reached back to ensure the passenger pegs were still down for her, he gave a toss of his head, indicating he was ready for her to get on as well. Stepping up, she rested her hands against his broad shoulders as she swung her leg over, sitting down easily. Using one hand, she flicked her visor down with a snap, before sliding both hands down the leather covering his back and letting them rest against his ribs. “Let’s take the long way back,” she said over his shoulder, deciding it was the least cheesy way she could say she wasn’t quite ready to be “rid of his presence” quite yet. “Just aim for the shop eventually, and I’ll direct you from there. I’m in the same neighborhood.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he answered, starting the bike up and giving it a few revs with a twist of his wrist before stepping the chugging bike out of the spot and riding it out of the lot in a graceful arc. The roads had quieted some, as much as they did in the evening, leaving more time for riding and less sitting at lights. His pace was easy, the route indirect, even taking a bit of a side route that took them down along the East River. The air off the water was cool, the lights reflecting off its rippled surface like stars that had been stolen from the sky above them.

Feeling as content as she could ever recall feeling, she adjusted herself on the backseat carefully so as not to disturb his navigation, but allowing herself to lean into him comfortably. In a particularly bold moment, she draped her arms around his hips, letting her hands rest on the outsides of his thighs, rather than his waist. It was a position that worked surprisingly well, she fit and could relax easily, though it left her mind plenty of places to wander. Lifting her eyes to the starless sky above them, she silently questioned how anyone had the right to the kind of musculature he did.

If he had any protest to her moving, he didn’t show it, eventually letting one hand off the grips to rest on top of hers until he had to shift again. Their wandering through streets was slow and with little deliberation, but unfortunately did have direction, and she started seeing the familiar buildings of her neighborhood all too soon. Directing him down the proper streets, she lead him up to the front of her apartment building, which instead of looking warm and inviting as it usually did, seemed dark and lonely instead.

“This is me,” she said, unable to keep regret from infiltrating her tone as she gave his shoulder a pat. He pulled the bike up to the curb with ease, letting the motor rumble a few before cutting it, something she took as a good sign. He wasn’t so quick to get away from her that he was leaving it running, ready to pull away as soon as she stepped off. Pivoting off so he could settle it in for a solid park, she tugged her helmet back off and tousled her hair to one side, trying to work out the intensified tangles the wind had created.

Nerves caught up to her, her mouth going dry and her palms damp, wanting nothing more than to remain close to him, to keep his presence in what seemed like the empty maw of her apartment that awaited. Rocking back on her heels, she chewed the inside of her lip as he removed his helmet, looking like some dark, roguish character out of a movie under the dim streetlights. Everything seemed cheesy again, inviting him for a drink or saying that she’d had a wonderful time, the former seeming cliche and the latter sounding like a dismissal.

“This is just my uh, decoy apartment, you know. Can’t always be running off to my castle, gotta keep it real so I don’t have guys showing up side saddle or something,” she finally joked, though her cheeks and ears burned. “I ain’t about that life, either.”

“Aww shame that, was gonna start practicin’ it just for you.” Flashing her a playful wink, sitting back in his seat, Raphael watched her with such a warmth in his heart he was sure the alcohol had gone straight to his head and he was just dreaming now. His feelings for her hadn’t changed, something that was common in the few dates he had had in the past, realizing it was more physical attraction rather than having feelings tied to it. Too many women he seemed to attract were shallow, only enjoying the idea of a large black guy to protect them, to be the muscle they could ogle when and where they wanted and not much more. They enjoyed his tattoos and scars for the wrong reasons, liking how it made him look “tough” or aggressive, like he was just a brute on their short chain leash.

Stacey was different.

Everything about her was like a shining beacon of hope in the dark shadows of his mind. She wasn’t fake or misleading, no hint of ulterior motives and didn’t try and shape him into something else, starting fights just so he could save her or “prove he was the alpha”. Even when the bar fight broke out, she stood by him, unafraid of his strength or rage, and that was something he held close. The women who had provoked him before had soon cowered, calling him an animal and uncontrollable, where Stacey seemed more than willing to tame him. How he had so easily landed a date with her was still beyond him, what she saw in him he couldn’t fathom, unable to see what it could possibly be. It gave him hope that maybe he wasn’t as bad as his demons so often told him, that he was capable of great things and being caring and gentle. That he was capable of love. As sure as the look in her eyes, he feared he could have been misreading it altogether, maybe it wasn’t as he perceived it to be, wanted it to be.

“You’d do that for me, huh?” Her tone was just as playful and he chuckled at the way she rested her helmet on a jutted hip, her head tilting at him curiously.

“Darlin’, I’d do a lot more than that for you,” he replied without thinking, but his cool and relaxed facade remained, while chiding himself internally for letting it slip as he watched her eyes fall away from his. Clearing his throat the moment she looked back at him, he noticed the way she tucked her hair behind her ear with a soft smile made his cheeks burn. He was forever thankful it was never obvious, and he continued before the silence became anymore painful to him. “I uh, I’ll let you head in. It’s kinda cold, don’t wanna keep ya or nothin’. Well, I would but… shit.” Clenching his jaw, he looked away, cursing himself to hell and back.

Every minor thing he had stumbled over that night, every comeback he could have said better repeated in his mind and he felt like caving in his head out of embarrassment. There were so many things he wanted to say but couldn’t, unable to find the words or right time to say it. ‘Don’t ruin this now,’ he told himself, inhaling deeply as he looked back to her, pleasantly surprised to see she was still smiling. If anything, it was brighter now and it made his own smile ease back more readily than he thought possible.

“Thank you, Raphael, I had an amazing night. And besides, I think we’re due a rematch at pool?”

The quirked brow along with the pout of her lips made his heart flutter again, the implication of her wanting to go out again, let alone see him again, lifting him completely out of any self doubt that tried to cripple his good mood. “Heh, yeah. I guess we are, and next time… I won’t go so easy on ya.”

The airy mirth of her giggle ignited that fire deep within his soul again and he hoped and prayed he’d be able to hear it again and again. Something about her made him feel complete and he wasn’t sure why. They were perfect together and he couldn’t ever remember a time he had felt that way. Smitten, totally and utterly.

“Bring it, big man.”

“Don’t test me, woman.”

There was a long, yet comfortable pause before either of them moved or spoke again, their eyes locked in a stare off, him playfully scowling and her breaking it off with a snarl, one that looked as if she were mocking his own. Chuckling deeply, he shook his head slowly.

“Thank you again and make sure you look after yourself, no more knitting injuries please.”

Was she stalling? Or was he just missing some social cue like he always seemed to? Rolling his eyes dramatically, he waved her off, “Yeah yeah, don’t trip on the non-existent gravel, either.”

Sticking her tongue out over her shoulder as she headed toward the door, he felt his heart sink as she slowly turned toward the entrance to the apartment lobby, no longer able to see her face. He had many chances and opportunities to make a move that night, always being cut off or having to deal with something unexpected, whether it was someone else or even her. It was gnawing away at him and as much as he tried to suppress it, it only bolstered his desire to act on it.

Quicker than he thought possible of himself, he slid himself off of his bike and with a few long strides was up behind her. He didn’t want to scare her with his sudden presence so he did nothing to silence his footsteps, making her turn back to face him curiously with eyes alight. Before he could finish saying her name, the sound of it breathy and no more than a whisper on his lips, he pulled her close against him, leaning in to catch her lips with his own. As the warmth of their kiss spread to every fiber of his being, his hands came to gently cradle her head, his fingers sliding up into her hair to brush it back as he did.

He had feared for only a brief moment it wouldn’t be reciprocated, but the second he felt her relax into his hold, her lips locking with his, those worries disappeared. After what seemed like a blissful eternity, they parted slowly, their foreheads pressed together as he still held her close.
“I’ve wanted to do that all night.”

The entire evening seemed to slow around them, centering around that moment, and she felt weightless in his arms. It was an opportunity she felt they had missed, slowly revolving closer and closer, yet it always lingered right past their fingertips. The pull had been there, making her feel like a fish fighting against a hook as she walked towards the building. Then, with a shuffle of sound against the concrete sidewalk and breathless call of her name, he had stolen her own breath away, relief, excitement and wonder washing through her as his lips pressed against hers.

“I’ve been hoping you would all night,” she whispered back, noting the slight tremble in her hand as she rested it against his shoulder, as if worried stepping away from him would send her world off axis. There was an air of disbelief as he smiled back at her response, his eyes averting just long enough to call out his sheepishness before he lifted them back to hers, softer than before. Sliding her hand over the collar of his leather jacket to his neck, she pulled him in for another kiss, longer and more confident, pressing up against him.

His confidence was more evident as well, the tentative restraint that he had the first time giving way to a more tender slowness, a certain savoring gentleness that belied everything about how he looked and acted. It was captivating, the discordance in traits. A man who could be both strong and masculine without the toxicity, able to be gentle and kind. It was unprecedented for her, and she found herself irrevocably more attracted to him.

When their lips finally parted again, they were both more breathless than they had been before, her feeling certainly more so than he appeared to be, but it left her feeling heady and excited, her stomach fluttering and her pulse racing. The combination left her trembling enough that she held on more tightly, biting her lip after brushing them gently against his, missing the warm pressure already.

“Shit… you cold?” he asked, sliding his hands up her back from the small of her back to her shoulders, only causing another shiver that had nothing to do with feeling cool, quite the opposite.

Blushing with a bashful, airy huff that was close to a chuckle, she shook her head and looked down at his chest, her hands toying with the lapels of his jacket. They were only there a moment before she felt the side of his finger lifting her chin back up, one of his eyebrows lifted in both amusement and curiosity. It only deepened the color of her cheeks, working at her lower lip while she tried to find the words to explain. “It’s just… you. It’s a good tremble… you’re just… amazing,” she stumbled through, knowing the words didn’t even come close to the emotions he’d managed to stir up, but seeing how surprised he looked at that alone, maybe it was a good thing.

“I don’t know ‘bout that,” he admitted self-consciously, his own eyes averting again in response. It warmed her heart to see how deeply the gentleness of his humility ran, and she lifted herself onto her tiptoes to wrap her arms over his shoulders, pulling tightly into a hug. His wrapped securely around her ribs, not so much to hurt, but enough that she felt safe, and that was entirely extraordinary. His face turned in towards her neck, deep against her hair and she squeezed more tightly in response. Pulling back just enough to take her in again, he brushed a thumb against her cheek, shaking his head with a half grin. “I do know that I ain’t got words for you, nothin’ that would do you justice, anyway.”

Smiling up at him, she tipped her face into his hand gently before glancing upwards towards the building. “You don’t have to leave yet,” she found the courage to say, trying to ignore her nerves as she did so.

His expression was soft in response, his eyes scanning the building above her head, before looking back down to her with an imploring gaze. “I think I do,” he said quietly, brushing his thumb over her lips and licking his own. It was hard to read his face then, it appeared that he was having an internal struggle, yet he wasn’t upset or angry. His face remained compassionate, his eyes taking in all of her features in his silence. “You’ve earned that respect, I think.”

The answer surprised her in the best way, only adding to the endearing wonderment she had for him. Wrapping her arms back lazily around his neck, she tilted her head at him with a smirk. “You’re sure good at making a woman feel like a lady, especially considering I started a bar fight,” she quipped, leaning in a little closer.

“It was a very graceful hit, fluid movement,” he answered with a coy smirk of his own.

“Yeah?” she asked, and he simply nodded in response, closing in the rest of the distance between them to kiss her one more time. As they parted, he pressed his lips against her forehead before running a hand down her arm as he stepped away, giving her outstretched hand a squeeze.

“No pickin’ fights while I’m not around, deal?” he bargained, his eyes like glowing embers in the night.

“Deal,” she agreed, squeezing his hand back before letting go, feeling the same pull she had when she had walked up the steps before. “Just don’t make me wait too long, alright?”

“Deal,” he also agreed, walking backwards for a few steps before turning to face the bike, looking over his shoulder at her.

Gripping her purse tightly, she watched as he put his helmet back on and restarted the bike, looking back up at her with his visor up, looking about as pained as she felt with the decision. Smiling, she gave him a wave, which he returned before gesturing for her to head inside before he took off. She pulled the door open and stepped inside, giving him another brief wave before he snapped the visor down and pulled away from the curb with a loud rev of the engine, taking off into the night.

Letting the door close behind her, she took the steps up to her apartment, slowly walking up them, in no rush to get to her quiet, empty apartment. Taking in everything that had happened that evening, she felt like she might just burst at the seams, a sense of optimism seeping into the core of her being. It was obvious from the get go that there had been plenty of attraction between them, but she could never have anticipated the level on which they meshed, the simple ease of being together.

With her other failed relationships, Jax had always assured her it was simply because she was different, different in a way that it would take a certain kind of man to meet her energy. She had always brushed him off, assuming it was the biased words of an old man eager to see her happy. By “different,” she figured what he really meant was difficult and obnoxious, a combination that would inevitably lead her to ruin in any relationship.

Yet, with Raph she didn’t feel that way. *He* felt different, in every way that she had always felt awkward and out of place. He seemed to match her shot for shot, step for step. Being with him just felt… right, and safe. Where she was supposed to be. Maybe that was what Jax had meant, she didn’t know. What she did know was that it was going to be a very long wait to see him again, no matter how short that time was.

*

One hundred percent sure he was still dreaming, he took a longer drive to gather his thoughts, needing to digest everything that had happened that night, process it all and try and find some small clue that it had all been an illusion. The more he thought, the more he realized it was true, the faintest taste of her lips still on his, and he savoured it.

Unable to stop the smile on his face as he cruised, he breathed deep, relishing in the feeling of being genuinely admired and wanted. For the first time not feeling like an outcast or as if he were watching through an unbreakable wall of glass. She was a beacon of hope in the storm of his mind, a star burning bright through the eclipse of his soul.

The entire day and evening had left him delirious, weaving the traffic on the roads with ease, as if she had given him a new lease of life. Reaching the storage lot where he housed his beloved bike, secluded and away from his brothers knowledge, he reluctantly drew down the shutter and locked up. Thankful that he still had the walk back to the dojo, he took his time with that too, the night air cooling off the heat from his skin.

As much as he desperately wanted to have her within his arms again, at the very least see her smile, or just call her, he had to control himself. He wasn’t about to chase her away, bombard her with attention and possibly ruin something good. He had to give her time to process and think too. She could easily change her mind, but so many things regarding her were a first, and he couldn’t bear to have her drift away. So many times people had done, eventually disappearing from his life and he accepted it. Expected it. Stacey was different, in so many wonderful and inviting ways.

Patience was a virtue and virtues were not his forte, but for her, he’d try. Already more than willing to do anything to see her smile, he’d wait for as long as it took.

***

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 1 of Sparking the Pavement