| Chapter One: Initial Meeting |
 |
| Disclaimer: I do not own V or the movie-verse I play with him in. But Veronica and the situations I put them in are all mine. |
 |
| Oh God, I was drunk. Drunkity drunk drunk. But when else would I have a chance to celebrate like this? There were very few chances to celebrate these days, and it wasn’t every day that your friend got engaged. Susie had just sprung the news up on me a few hours ago, and I told her we had to go out and celebrate. We had martini after martini until the bar closed, about 30 minutes before curfew. I walked Susie home because she was probably as drunk as I was, if not more so. She offered for me to stay the night, since it was 10 minutes to curfew, but I could make it home in time. It wasn’t that long of a walk. But I was drunk. Boy, was I drunk.
I turned into a dark alley to get home faster. It was a short cut I knew. Any other day, I think I would have known better then to walk down a dark, deserted ally a few minutes before curfew, but I was…well, you get the point. I tried my best to walk steady, swinging my purse around, but it was fruitless. I tripped over a rock in the ground, and couldn’t help but giggle at my own clumsiness. “What’s so funny, little lass?” It was like having a bucket of ice cold water thrown on me. I was almost dizzy, I sobered up so fast. The man stepped out of the shadows in front of me. “I asked you a question.” My mind started to whirl. I couldn’t think of anything to say. So I just shook my head and mumbled, “Nothing. Sorry for disturbing you.” I started walking around him, keeping my head down, my pace fast, but he stepped in front of me. “Been out drinking, little lass? I can smell the alcohol from here. I bet you’re way over the legal limit. And out pass curfew, tsk tsk, what to do with you?” I looked up at him, my voice taking a hard edge. “Not that it’s any of your business, but it’s not past curfew yet.” As soon as the words left my mouth, Big Ben started to ring. I cringed at the sound as the man’s head tilted to the side, smirking. He showed me his Fingerman badge. “I believe it is my business, and now it is past curfew.” “Please, I’m almost home, and I would have been there on time if you hadn’t have stopped me.” I knew that was the wrong thing to say as soon as I said it. Stupid alcohol. “Oh really? Seems like you have a little mouth on you, little lass. Haven’t you ever heard ‘Best to be seen, not heard’?” I should have been panicking. But the martinis were making me brave. And angry. And stupid. “No, but maybe you should take your own advice,” I snapped. Oh shit. His eyes flashed dangerously at me, and a hand shot out, grabbing my arm. “You need to learn how to control that mouth of yours. Maybe I should give you something to keep it busy.” Before I could think, I lashed out, hitting him hard across the head with my purse, and broke into a run. I heard him cussing behind me, then the fall of heavy steps as he chased after me. Now, if I had been sober and wearing running shoes, I might have been able to outrun him. Maybe. But I was far from sober and wearing 2 inch heels. Not a good combination. He grabbed the back of my shirt and I fell heavily to me knees. Before I had a chance to try and get up again, he was standing in front of me, his fist flying out and catching me across the chin, stars bursting in front of my eyes. His hands roughly grabbed my shoulders and flung me to the ground, my forehead connecting with the concrete, the taste of blood filling my mouth. “Little bitch! I’ll teach you some manners!” He gripped my hair, yanking my head up roughly. A second voice cut through the darkness, low and calm, “You know, you should never hit a lady.” That was the last thing I remember before my attacker slammed my head against the ground, and my world went black. |
|