Repo!fic: One Way Ticket (GR/Shilo)
Dec. 17th, 2008 09:08 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
transemacabreRated a hard M for Mature Content. This one is for ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
scandalmonger. There's a final chapter on here that didn't appear on the Kink Meme.
I. Kiss.
For a man who spent most of his time around corpses and slept in dumpsters, Graverobber actually stayed fairly clean. He accomplished this by putting on the suit he inherited from his father, the one with the priest's collar, and checking into a seedy motel once a week. Then he stood in the shower until his skin turned red and every last bit of grime was gone. Afterwards he usually dyed his hair, ate an actual meal, and passed out for ten or twelve hours.
When he found Shilo sleeping in a freshly dug grave, he left her there for several hours. She wasn't his problem. But he wandered back around midnight and found her still laying there, curled into the fetal position, and some stupid bit of conscience nagged at him until he hopped into the grave and prodded her awake. "What're you doing here, kid?"
Shilo blinked up at him. "Wha-? Oh." She sat up.
Graverobber sighed. "Go home, kid."
"I can't." She bit her lip. "There's nothing there."
He rationalized it to himself that leaving her there would be tantamount to murder, and Graverobber's hobbies didn't include murdering naive teenage girls. He climbed out of the grave and offered her a hand. Shilo looked up at him fearfully.
"Where are you taking me?" she asked.
"Does it matter?" Graverobber cocked an eyebrow. She put her hand in his, and he hauled her up out of the grave.
The motel clerk gave him a funny look when he showed up with Shilo in tow. Graverobber forced himself not to grin. In her ruffled shirt, with her big sad eyes, Shilo probably looked like his child bride.
Once inside the room, he sent Shilo to shower ("Ladies first") and then sat down and tried to think. What the hell was he going to do with her? Where would he keep her? Scratch that, no way was he keeping her. Shilo could take care of herself, he had at that age. But then he hadn't spent 17 years locked in his bedroom, either. He sighed deeply, letting some of his tension out. Tonight. He'd let her stay with him tonight. Tomorrow she had to leave.
"Umm." He looked up to see Shilo peeking at him from the bathroom door. "Do you have a clean shirt I can wear?"
Clothes. Of course she'd want clean clothes. "Hold on," he told her as he rifled through his small bag. Graverobber didn't exactly carry a wardrobe around with him, but he had an old shirt that didn't smell too bad. He tossed it to her and she disappeared back into the bathroom. A minute later she reappeared, the shirt long enough to make a short skirt on her.
Graverobber stood up, working at his belt absentmindedly. Damn, he needed a shower. After a moment he noticed Shilo was staring at his belt, watching his fingers undo the buckle. With a soft snort, he grinned and said, "Don't worry, kid. I'm not going to ravish you or anything."
Shilo jumped, and then blushed. "Umm, that's not what I was thi-"
"Go to bed," he called over his shoulder as he pushed past her into the bathroom.
Graverobber emerged almost an hour later to find Shilo curled up in the chair besides the broken air conditioner. He shook her gently, but she only moaned. Sighing, he picked her up and laid her on the bed. It was hot in the room, so he didn't bother pulling the dingy sheets over her. He crossed to the other side and laid down himself. No way in hell was he sleeping on the floor. He'd paid for this room after all.
He fell asleep almost immediately, which was unusual. Suddenly, he jerked awake and looked for the clock frantically. 3:00 a.m. Graverobber groaned. Shilo was draped over him, her head resting on his chest, her leg slung over him, her thigh pressed against his erection. Damn. This was definitely not the best idea he'd ever had.
Perhaps his pounding heartbeat woke her, or the deepening of his breathing. Shilo's eyes cracked open and looked up at him, and then her brows creased. She glanced down, and then back up. "Surprise?" he offered, trying to be light-hearted.
"Graverobber," she whispered.
"Huh?"
"What's that?" Her eyes were wide.
He couldn't help chuckling. "Nothing to be concerned about. You're fine. I'm fine. Go back to sleep."
To his horror, something touched him through his pants that felt suspiciously like fingers. "Does it hurt?" Shilo asked.
Graverobber swallowed hard. "Kid, uh, that's enough, okay."
Shilo frowned. "Is it normal for guys?"
What the fuck, is it normal? Graverobber tried to get control of himself. Of course Shilo didn't know anything about men and cocks. At least he hoped not, considering the only man she'd ever known had been her own father. He sat up, trying to slowly ease away from her. "Yeah. This happens to guys when they sleep with girls. In the same bed, I mean."
"Wow." Shilo gently pinched the head. "It's hard."
Graverobber grabbed her wrist, pulling her under him. Shilo squeaked and then laid still, looking up at him as he propped himself up above her. "Kid. Shilo. Listen, that's not the only thing that's hard. I'm letting you sleep here tonight, I'm doing you a favor. So hand's off when I say hand's off, got it?"
Shilo looked down, ashamed. "I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't mean to make you mad. I've just never seen anything like that."
Graverobber rubbed his face with his hand. "Well, technically you still haven't seen anything like that. And you shouldn't. Until you're in love or married or something. And make him wear a rubber," he added quickly. Shock crossed Shilo's face. He really wasn't any good at this responsible, brotherly kind of thing. He backed up off of her and sat at the edge of the bed.
"Those girls, Amber, all of them, they, ah, slept with you, didn't they?" He looked around to see Shilo sitting up on the bed, shirt ridding up so he caught a tempting glimpse of legs. "To get stuff from you. Zydrate."
"First hit's free," he said automatically. Then he caught himself and said, "You don't have to pay me for anything. Okay? Stop worrying. Go back to sleep."
Shilo inched up so that she was sitting beside him. "I'm not -- worried," she said finally. She played with the hem of the shirt and then blurted out, "Does it feel good? I mean, when someone touches you? What does it feel like?"
He released a breath of air in a huff. "There's no way for me to tell you. Go back to sleep."
Shilo obeyed him for once, and laid down. After a few minutes, he did, too. There just didn't seem to be any point in running off. He turned his back to her and tried to fall asleep. He must've dozed off, because the next thing he knew, Graverobber was muttering vaguely filthy stuff into Shilo's ear as his hand crept up her thigh. His eyes snapped open just as Shilo's hand guided his to the dampness between her legs.
"Damn, kid," he gasped. Shilo's eyes were staring at him, silently pleading. She was so wet and silky. His thumb teased at her entrance, and she lifted her hips up instinctively.
He pulled his hand back and shook himself. He had to clear his mind. What was he doing? Molesting Shilo in his sleep? He should've gotten two rooms. Before he could stand up, Shilo wiggled under him and wrapped her legs around him. She must've learned that from TV or something, no way sweet little Shilo figured out that move on her own.
For a split second, Graverobber's voice betrayed his panic. "Gotta let me go."
"It's okay," she told him. She caught his hand and pressed to her chest so he could feel her heartbeat, like a fluttering moth. "It's okay."
Shilo was reassuring him? He took a ragged breath. "Not okay. I'm not going to fuck you--" he looked around at the dingy, overheated motel room.
Shilo smiled. "So if we were somewhere else...?"
"No!" No way was he fucking this kid. The loss of his own virginity hadn't exactly been pleasant, and he didn't want to screw up Shilo's life any more than he already had. He tried being frank. "I'm older and wiser than you. This isn't what you need."
Shilo bit her lip. "Everyone thinks they know what I need." She paused. "Is it me? I could get dressed up, like Amber..."
He placed a hand over her mouth. "That's not it, you're great. You're beautiful. You're seventeen--"
Shilo's hips rocked against his, and Graverobber saw white. A predatory bit of his brain gnawed at him. Why not do the girl? He wasn't planning on seeing her again after tomorrow, anyway. She was a cute girl. He could make this really good for her. That part of his brain began overriding the rest as his hand crept up to caress Shilo's breast. She threw her head back and gasped.
Yeah. He could just go down on her. No chance of getting her pregnant. Hardly even taking advantage, not when she was begging him. Graverobber hitched up her shirt and kissed her body, starting in the hollow of her throat, working down to her breasts, spending a little quality time with each nipple. Shilo writhed, loudly yelling her approval with each motion. He slid down, letting his hands drag over her belly, feeling her jump, then her knees. He spread her legs.
Shilo sat up and gave him a curious look. "What--" she started but didn't finish as he kissed her between her legs, making her temporarily loss control of her vocal cords. Her body went limp, except for her spine, which arched and twisted. Graverobber was having a grand time watching and listening to her. So responsive. He was curious to see how she'd react to a cock, how wet she'd be. He tried to put those thoughts aside but couldn't help sliding in a finger.
Shilo screamed and almost came off the bed. He chuckled at the flushed look on her face, the almost lazily sensual smile she gave him. "You back on Earth?" he asked her. She nodded.
"First hit's free, right?" she asked him when she could finally speak.
"Yeah."
II. Two Nights.
They slept late the next day, and by the time Graverobber woke, it was already past noon. He sat up to see Shilo laying on her tummy, head propped up in her hands, watching TV. She'd actually gotten that antique to work.
Feeling him stir, Shilo turned to look at him and said, "Good morning." To his relief, that was all -- she didn't pounce on him and try to kiss him, or burst into tears, or strip her clothes off and offer herself to him like a trembling virgin sacrifice. Graverobber had a spark of hope that maybe nothing had changed after all, that they'd shared last night and now she'd walk out of his life and not look back.
She followed him down to the lobby, still wearing his shirt and her own filthy skirt. Not that he looked much better. There was still a lukewarm pot of coffee and some donuts in the lobby, and Shilo sat down to eat while Graverobber tried to check out. Emphasis on 'tried'. As it turned out, checkout time was 11 a.m., and the manager of this dump had automatically booked him for another night. Graverobber glanced over at Shilo, who was enthusiastically devouring a donut. He could just walk out, but hey, the room was still theirs for another night, and it seemed like a shame to waste it. Two showers in a row never hurt anyone.
"Banana?" Shilo was standing at his elbow, fruit in hand.
Graverobber grinned. "No, thanks. I'm trying to quit." He handed her the key.
Shilo frowned. "What's this?"
"We're staying for another night, and I don't have a spare pocket. Hold it for me." The truth was he planned to walk out tonight while she was showering, and leave her there. Let her get some sleep. It seemed like a good plan.
They left the hotel and went to a hole-in-the-wall place down the street that carried a little bit of everything. Shilo wandered around staring at butterflies pinned behind glass and posters from old movies. She'd had bent down to examine a kid's rocking horse when Graverobber walked up behind her and casually drapped a shirt over her head. "Hey!" Shilo plucked it off her head, shot him a wry look, and said, "A shirt? You bought me a shirt?"
He placed a skirt and some socks into her arms. "I need my shirt back. And I didn't know your shoe size."
She went into the bathroom to change, and Graverobber considered abandoning her right there. It'd be kinder in the long run. The more time she spent with him, the more she depended on him, following him around like a puppy. He needed to get back to business. He'd just stood up when Shilo appeared and twirled around, showing off her new clothes. She held up his shirt and suggested, "We could go wash it at the motel."
That made sense, and he couldn't think of any excuses, so off they went back to the motel. Shilo sat on a washer and giggled as the machine rocked back and forth. "Ride 'em, cowboy," chuckled Graverobber as the girl struggled to stay on. He backed up to her and let Shilo wrap her arms around his shoulders and lifted her off the machine, spinning her around a couple of times while she shrieked with something between fear and joy. Shilo slipped off him and pressed against him, still laughing.
"Six," she gasped.
"What?"
"Six. My shoe size is six."
The dryer buzzed.
They collected their pitifully small load of laundry and strolled back to their room. Shilo fumbled with the key, and Graverobber crowded her, purposefully making it harder for her to open the door. She was swatting at him with a sock when they finally tumbled into the room. He dumped their laundry in a chair and looked around to see Shilo playing with the cameo around her neck, absently resting her palm on her breast. The tension was back. It was as though they'd left one reality outside and stepped through the door to another. Shilo was so close to him. When did she get so close? Had she always stood so close?
She pressed her forehead to his chest, breathing deeply, as though inhaling his scent. He touched her face, intending to push her away but instead he kissed her lips, her soft lips, and when he broke away he heard her sigh. He backed her up until the backs of her knees touched the bed, and then Shilo sat down, then stretched out underneath him. Her hands ran through his hair, touching each ear, his neck. He thrust against her very lightly, and her legs wrapped around him, urging him on. "Oh, please," she whispered. "Please." As he reached to pull off her panties. She kicked off her shoes herself.
Graverobber sat up to pull off his shirt, and almost laughed out loud when Shilo took the opportunity to unbuckle his pants for him. "Take it easy, kid," he told her, shrugging out of his clothes. Her eyes explored him, from his shoulders to his chest, to the junction of his thighs. She was so enthusiastic. Graverobber had fucked a few virgins in his time, whimpering knock-knee'd creatures. Shilo shook when he touched her, but her hands covered his and directed him to her breasts, her lips, her wetness. Graverobber slipped a pair of fingers inside, making her yelp like last night. Damn. He wanted in her so badly.
He pulled back, hearing Shilo whine in protest. She sat up on her elbows. "Wow," she said, seeing him erect. "It's... big."
Graverobber laughed. "You're adorable, kid. Adorable." He let his cock rub against her, as though asking for permission. Shilo wiggled a little bit, and the head slipped inside. So warm. So tight. He saw stars and had to struggle to keep from thrusting in with all his might. He gripped her hips so hard she'd have bruises tomorrow, and pushed in a little further. Shilo hissed, unused to being penetrated. It occured to him that it might be easier on her just to thrust in hard once, instead of easing in centimeter by centimeter. He kissed her neck, distracting her from the pain, sucking a little on each earlobe, and when he felt her relax he tried a short, hard pump. Shilo gave a shaky cry and wrapped her legs around him again, pushing him in deeper. She felt so good, like a dream, gripping him from the inside. Graverobber thrust a couple more times, harder each time, and Shilo writhed with pleasure. She seemed to love all of it. He tried to slow down but couldn't get control of himself.
Now Graverobber was ramming into her with all his might, enraptured by the liquid heat shooting through his veins, the tortured/pleasured look on Shilo's face. The bed squeaked madly. Her nails dug into his back, leaving red marks that he couldn't feel. She bit her lip. "Hey, it's okay," he told her. He struggled for more breath. "Talk to me. Talk to me." The wet sounds of their bodies meeting, the bedsprings, it was the most beautiful music he'd ever heard. Now all he needed was to make Shilo sing.
Her back arched and she flailed around until her hands gripped the headboard of the bed and clung to it. Her moans grew loader, into screams. He felt his own climax coming, and desperately tried to hold on. He was pistoning into her, almost lifting her off the bed, she'd be sore and covered in bruises tomorrow, and he'd be scratched to hell, and she spasmed around him and tears leaked out of her eyes. Shilo wailed. Her muscles gripping him undid Graverobber, and he released into her, collapsing onto her. Graverobber shook. He sucked in air, weak as a kitten. He knew he had to be crushing Shilo but he couldn't lift himself up, much less roll off her. She was so still that for a moment he thought she might be unconscious, but then a hand stroked his hair.
III. Vegas Baby Vegas.
Shilo stirred as something stiff and increasingly familiar slid between her legs, rubbing the bottom of her buttocks. A rush of warmth flooded her belly. She was naked, curled in bed with Graverobber. No one had ever seen her naked before, not really, except for her dad when she was very little and that didn't even count. She tried to push away the memories of her father's face, his voice. Tonight, of all nights, Shilo was desperate to be free of ghosts.
She rolled over onto her belly, shoving pillows out of her way so she could breathe. Graverobber moved to cover her, planting sucking kisses down her spine. The air made her skin tingle when it touched where his lips had been a moment before. His hand slipped beneath her, pulling her up to all fours, then joined the other hand in teasing her breasts and nipples before moving to stroke her back. He pushed at her entrance, and Shilo instinctively spread her legs wider.
"You okay, Shilo?" he asked.
She nodded mutely. That didn't seem to satisfy him, as he gently patted her on her bottom and asked again, "No, are you okay?"
"I--" she choked out. She peered at him over her shoulder. In the twilight he looked even bigger than she remembered, fierce, predatory. Shilo trembled. She was letting a man who's real name she didn't even know fuck her senseless all night. Her dad would be horrified.
Maybe Graverobber had the mutant power of mindreading, because he snapped, "No. Don't think about him. Don't think about any of them. They're not here, we are. We are." As though to drive the point home, he pressed his hips against her, stopping just short of penetrating her. Electricity ran down Shilo's spine to the tips of her fingers and toes. Her body was aching for something, something she'd had no name for before tonight. Now she was drunk on it, giddy, higher than any of Graverobber's scalpel sluts.
"You're here with me," said Graverobber, his hands exploring the curve of her hips, trailing down to her thighs. Shilo's skin prickled deliciously. "With me. You're not a ghost to me."
He slipped in more easily than last time, as though her body recognized him and welcomed him back. Shilo groaned in protest when he pulled back out almost immediately.
"Do you know what I see when I look at you?" His voice deepened, she felt it in her chest.
"I don't know."
Graverobber thrust back in again. "Not a dead woman." Shilo gripped the mattress desperately, then gave that up and grabbed the headboard with one hand to brace herself. He was pounding into her now, long hard strokes that left her gasping, exhaling with little squeaks. She wrenched her eyes shut, concentrating on the feel of him sliding in and out of her, his hands on her hips, the rocking of the bed, his soft cursing, the tension pooling between her legs.
Shilo looked back again to see him shaking and moaning as he thrust into her. Beautiful. She was doing that to him, her body, Shilo. No one else could give him this moment. Only her.
Graverobber shifted his weight over her, pushing her towards the headboard a little more so that he could rest his own hands on it. She was going to wring an orgasm out of him soon enough, but Shilo looked as though she needed a little encouragement to help her along. He quickened his thrusts, going shallower and faster, and was rewarded with panting. His tongue flicked out and licked her right below her ear, and that was it, she went over the edge with a low moan. A couple of more strokes finished him as well, and he wrapped his arms around Shilo, pressing her to him, her back to his chest, holding her through the aftershocks.
Fuck. At this rate, Shilo was going to ruin him for other women. Graverobber sighed and pulled himself off her. He pulled a pillowcase off a pillow and used it to clean himself off, then stood up, albeit shakily. "You okay now?" he asked.
Shilo's expression was one of perfect contentment. When she answered "Oh, yeah" he believed her this time. Shilo sprawled across the bed, sated. When she saw him dressing she perked up and asked, "Where are you going?"
"I'm afraid I have prior engagements with some very lovely ladies," Graverobber told her. "They're a bit stiffer than you, and colder too, but it wouldn't be right to leave them six feet under tonight." Accepting this, Shilo laid back and dozed off. She was vaguely aware of rustling noises, and the door opening and closing, but she didn't wake back up. It seemed natural to hear him come and go.
In her dreams they came back to her, Daddy and Mag and the horrors, and when she awoke Shilo found a note on the nightstand that said "Order some takeout" with a little money, and under it an envelope with her name on it. She opened it and found a bus ticket to Las Vegas.
IV. Smile This Is Hollywood.
When Graverobber opened the dumpster, he wasn't expecting to find Shilo Wallace inside. Not quite the shock of his life, but close. She was sitting crosslegged, a patchwork satchel in her lap. She looked even smaller and more delicate than he remembered.
"I'm sorry, this one's taken," Shilo told him. She reached up, grabbed the lid, and slammed it back down.
Graverobber stepped back, then realized his mouth was slack and shut it quickly. Usually he was two or three hundred steps ahead of everyone else; he wasn't used to being caught off guard. He paced back and forth a couple of times, debating over whether to just leave her there. Finally he knocked lightly on the dumpster's lid. No answer. He knocked again.
Shilo opened the lid and stood up. She glowered at him. He tried his most charming smile and asked, "May I come in?"
Before he could say anything else, Shilo climbed out of the dumpster, slung her satchel over her shoulder, and stormed off. Graverobber ran after her, his longer legs easily matching her stride. Shilo glared at him, the effect somewhat ruined by the tears she was desperately trying to blink away. Something deep inside Graverobber's ruin of a conscience hissed at him.
"Looks like rain," he said as casually as he could manage.
Shilo wrapped her arms around herself. Her babydoll sleeves and stockings weren't doing much to protect her against the chill. "I won't melt."
When she reached the next street corner she stopped in her tracks. Either some survival instinct was telling her not to go further, or her burst of angry energy had worn off. Graverobber shrugged out of his coat and offered it to her.
Shilo's eyes were like a stab to the gut, but she put the coat on. Graverobber looked around at the darkened alleys, the pile of trash he'd just stepped over, the bum sleeping in a doorway. "You could've picked a safer area of town to crash," he told her.
She turned away from him, hunching her shoulders. "I made it before you, I'll make it after you."
He didn't have a response to that, so he ignored it and said, "Couldn't leave the City of Angels, was that it?"
Shilo whirled around, her expression pure exasperation. "I did go to Vegas, Graverobber."
He blinked and said, "You're back." No wonder he hadn't seen her around L.A. the last two weeks.
"Yeah. No thanks to your one-way ticket." Shilo shoved her hands into the coat pockets. Her brows knit as she pulled out a stub.
Graverobber coughed lightly as she stared at it, squinting in the poor light cast by the flickering streetlamp. "You went to Vegas, too?" she asked, waving the stub dated last week at him. "To look for me?"
"I had business there," Graverobber told her. He'd spent five days prowling the city, hunting through hobo camps and under bridges, asking every zydrate addict and pimp and hooker he came across if they'd seen a dark-haired girl with innocent eyes. He'd given up long after he should have. He told himself that Shilo was probably turning tricks for a pimp somewhere, or already had her cranium looted for the delicious chemicals obtained inside.
Shilo shoved the ticket stub back inside the pocket. "This doesn't mean I forgive you," she told him stiffly.
"I never asked you to," Graverobber reminded her. He walked her back to her dumpster, and told her to keep the coat for tonight. "I'll get it in the morning," he said.
Shilo frowned. "It's cold."
Graverobber laughed. "In L.A.? Never. You've never seen cold. In Alaska it gets so cold that your skin will crack open if the air touches it." He noded sagely, but he'd never been to Alaska, any more than Shilo had, but he'd read a book about it that he'd shoplifted when he was fourteen. "This is nice spring weather to them."
Los Angeles doesn't turn cold, but it's graverobbers do when they root around in piles of corpses, when they see girls younger than Shilo selling themselves, blood stains on the concrete (Repo Man's calling card), kidneys and intestines hawked on TV that could be financed with human lives. Graverobber thought about those things while scoring zydrate that night, trying to ignore the biting air and the temptation to rush back to Shilo's dumpster to check on her. What did it matter if she wasn't there in the morning? He could get another coat.
He had, in fact, liberated a nice silk tie from a wealthy gentleman who couldn't take it (or anything else) with him earlier that evening. It had amused him to put it on, as though he was one of those clean-cut businessmen who panted over Amber Sweet's ever-changing body. He fiddled with the tie idly as he asked a corpse, "Hey, you don't think I'm a bastard, do you?"
The corpse didn't reply. Graverobber sighed and chucked it back into it's tomb. "Never mind."
He was halfway across the cemetery when search lights exploded around him. He ducked behind a tombstone and then crawled under a fence, taking off into the labyrinthine alleys, trusting the night to hide him as it always did.
Shilo had ventured from her dumpster to find food. She draped Graverobber's coat over her shoulders like a cape, tying the arms across her chest in an embrace. She was digging in her pockets for the few coins she had left, wondering what she might buy with that little money, when she heard pounding footsteps behind her. A search light nearly blinded her when she turned around. Graverobber raced past her in a blur.
They were after him again, probably trying to capture or execute them like they had when she first saw him in the cemetery, when Repo Man saved her. Shilo made her choice quickly. "He went that way!" she screamed, pointing down the street. Rotti's goons (probably Amber's now, Shilo thought) raced off that way. Shilo leaned against a wall, panting, her hands sweaty. Suddenly, Graverobber's coat was choking her. As she pulled it off, a head popped out of a nearby pile of garbage.
"Thanks a lot, kid," Graverobber said as he climbed out. Shilo couldn't look him in the face. For a moment she'd wanted those men to capture him, to hurt him even worse than he'd hurt her. But Shilo Wallace wasn't a murderer. She'd been raised better than that. She offered him his coat but he shook his head.
"We'll share," he offered, and at Shilo's perked eyebrow he added, "The dumpster. It's a cold night."
That was hardly a lie, and it wasn't like Graverobber was likely to hurt or kill her. She had nothing to steal that he hadn't already taken. They walked back to her dumpster and huddled inside, wrapping the coat around them like a blanket. Shilo found herself grateful for his body warmth. Her anger hadn't kept her warm, and her resentment hadn't provided much company.
He dug around in his bag and produced a few vials of zydrate for light and a small packet of crackers. Shilo dug in, eager to sate the hunger that gnawed her insides raw. After gulping down a handful, she asked, "What's with the tie?"
"Oh, this old thing?" Graverobber sounded almost bored. "Just a little something I throw on from to time."
Shilo reached out and stroked the tie. It felt luxurious, softer than skin. She tugged a little and it came loose. Shilo laughed softly. "You don't know how to tie a tie?"
Graverobber shrugged. The zydrate lent his features an eerie blue glow, much like it had the first time she'd seen him. "Never had anyone to teach me."
Well, Shilo's dad had taught her, so she quickly tied it around her neck, primping a little to make him smile. He held up a zydrate vial to watch her tie it. "Does it ever stop glowing?" she asked.
"Not that I've seen," he replied.
They woke the next morning pressed the one against the other's side, her head resting on his shoulder, his chin atop her head. Her hair tickled his nose and Graverobber almost sneezed. Shaking himself, he woke her, too, and they climbed out of the dumpster. Stretching her sore muscles, Shilo examined Graverobber in the daylight. He had wiped his makeup off, and she thought he would look different, but he didn't, not really. His skin looked warmer, more real. There was a small scar on his right cheek that was hard to see at night. It looked almost like a starburst.
He caught her looking and gave her a half-smile. "Curious about something?"
Shilo reached out to touch the scar, but pulled back at the last moment. "What happened?" she asked.
Graverobber grimaced. "You ever cook with oil? Know how hot it gets?"
"No," she admitted. Shilo's dad had usually cooked.
"Yeah," he shook his head. "I hope you don't." Then he looked her over, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "You're still wearing my tie."
Shilo grinned and said, "It looks better on me."
"It does," he agreed.
scandalmonger. There's a final chapter on here that didn't appear on the Kink Meme.I. Kiss.
For a man who spent most of his time around corpses and slept in dumpsters, Graverobber actually stayed fairly clean. He accomplished this by putting on the suit he inherited from his father, the one with the priest's collar, and checking into a seedy motel once a week. Then he stood in the shower until his skin turned red and every last bit of grime was gone. Afterwards he usually dyed his hair, ate an actual meal, and passed out for ten or twelve hours.
When he found Shilo sleeping in a freshly dug grave, he left her there for several hours. She wasn't his problem. But he wandered back around midnight and found her still laying there, curled into the fetal position, and some stupid bit of conscience nagged at him until he hopped into the grave and prodded her awake. "What're you doing here, kid?"
Shilo blinked up at him. "Wha-? Oh." She sat up.
Graverobber sighed. "Go home, kid."
"I can't." She bit her lip. "There's nothing there."
He rationalized it to himself that leaving her there would be tantamount to murder, and Graverobber's hobbies didn't include murdering naive teenage girls. He climbed out of the grave and offered her a hand. Shilo looked up at him fearfully.
"Where are you taking me?" she asked.
"Does it matter?" Graverobber cocked an eyebrow. She put her hand in his, and he hauled her up out of the grave.
The motel clerk gave him a funny look when he showed up with Shilo in tow. Graverobber forced himself not to grin. In her ruffled shirt, with her big sad eyes, Shilo probably looked like his child bride.
Once inside the room, he sent Shilo to shower ("Ladies first") and then sat down and tried to think. What the hell was he going to do with her? Where would he keep her? Scratch that, no way was he keeping her. Shilo could take care of herself, he had at that age. But then he hadn't spent 17 years locked in his bedroom, either. He sighed deeply, letting some of his tension out. Tonight. He'd let her stay with him tonight. Tomorrow she had to leave.
"Umm." He looked up to see Shilo peeking at him from the bathroom door. "Do you have a clean shirt I can wear?"
Clothes. Of course she'd want clean clothes. "Hold on," he told her as he rifled through his small bag. Graverobber didn't exactly carry a wardrobe around with him, but he had an old shirt that didn't smell too bad. He tossed it to her and she disappeared back into the bathroom. A minute later she reappeared, the shirt long enough to make a short skirt on her.
Graverobber stood up, working at his belt absentmindedly. Damn, he needed a shower. After a moment he noticed Shilo was staring at his belt, watching his fingers undo the buckle. With a soft snort, he grinned and said, "Don't worry, kid. I'm not going to ravish you or anything."
Shilo jumped, and then blushed. "Umm, that's not what I was thi-"
"Go to bed," he called over his shoulder as he pushed past her into the bathroom.
Graverobber emerged almost an hour later to find Shilo curled up in the chair besides the broken air conditioner. He shook her gently, but she only moaned. Sighing, he picked her up and laid her on the bed. It was hot in the room, so he didn't bother pulling the dingy sheets over her. He crossed to the other side and laid down himself. No way in hell was he sleeping on the floor. He'd paid for this room after all.
He fell asleep almost immediately, which was unusual. Suddenly, he jerked awake and looked for the clock frantically. 3:00 a.m. Graverobber groaned. Shilo was draped over him, her head resting on his chest, her leg slung over him, her thigh pressed against his erection. Damn. This was definitely not the best idea he'd ever had.
Perhaps his pounding heartbeat woke her, or the deepening of his breathing. Shilo's eyes cracked open and looked up at him, and then her brows creased. She glanced down, and then back up. "Surprise?" he offered, trying to be light-hearted.
"Graverobber," she whispered.
"Huh?"
"What's that?" Her eyes were wide.
He couldn't help chuckling. "Nothing to be concerned about. You're fine. I'm fine. Go back to sleep."
To his horror, something touched him through his pants that felt suspiciously like fingers. "Does it hurt?" Shilo asked.
Graverobber swallowed hard. "Kid, uh, that's enough, okay."
Shilo frowned. "Is it normal for guys?"
What the fuck, is it normal? Graverobber tried to get control of himself. Of course Shilo didn't know anything about men and cocks. At least he hoped not, considering the only man she'd ever known had been her own father. He sat up, trying to slowly ease away from her. "Yeah. This happens to guys when they sleep with girls. In the same bed, I mean."
"Wow." Shilo gently pinched the head. "It's hard."
Graverobber grabbed her wrist, pulling her under him. Shilo squeaked and then laid still, looking up at him as he propped himself up above her. "Kid. Shilo. Listen, that's not the only thing that's hard. I'm letting you sleep here tonight, I'm doing you a favor. So hand's off when I say hand's off, got it?"
Shilo looked down, ashamed. "I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't mean to make you mad. I've just never seen anything like that."
Graverobber rubbed his face with his hand. "Well, technically you still haven't seen anything like that. And you shouldn't. Until you're in love or married or something. And make him wear a rubber," he added quickly. Shock crossed Shilo's face. He really wasn't any good at this responsible, brotherly kind of thing. He backed up off of her and sat at the edge of the bed.
"Those girls, Amber, all of them, they, ah, slept with you, didn't they?" He looked around to see Shilo sitting up on the bed, shirt ridding up so he caught a tempting glimpse of legs. "To get stuff from you. Zydrate."
"First hit's free," he said automatically. Then he caught himself and said, "You don't have to pay me for anything. Okay? Stop worrying. Go back to sleep."
Shilo inched up so that she was sitting beside him. "I'm not -- worried," she said finally. She played with the hem of the shirt and then blurted out, "Does it feel good? I mean, when someone touches you? What does it feel like?"
He released a breath of air in a huff. "There's no way for me to tell you. Go back to sleep."
Shilo obeyed him for once, and laid down. After a few minutes, he did, too. There just didn't seem to be any point in running off. He turned his back to her and tried to fall asleep. He must've dozed off, because the next thing he knew, Graverobber was muttering vaguely filthy stuff into Shilo's ear as his hand crept up her thigh. His eyes snapped open just as Shilo's hand guided his to the dampness between her legs.
"Damn, kid," he gasped. Shilo's eyes were staring at him, silently pleading. She was so wet and silky. His thumb teased at her entrance, and she lifted her hips up instinctively.
He pulled his hand back and shook himself. He had to clear his mind. What was he doing? Molesting Shilo in his sleep? He should've gotten two rooms. Before he could stand up, Shilo wiggled under him and wrapped her legs around him. She must've learned that from TV or something, no way sweet little Shilo figured out that move on her own.
For a split second, Graverobber's voice betrayed his panic. "Gotta let me go."
"It's okay," she told him. She caught his hand and pressed to her chest so he could feel her heartbeat, like a fluttering moth. "It's okay."
Shilo was reassuring him? He took a ragged breath. "Not okay. I'm not going to fuck you--" he looked around at the dingy, overheated motel room.
Shilo smiled. "So if we were somewhere else...?"
"No!" No way was he fucking this kid. The loss of his own virginity hadn't exactly been pleasant, and he didn't want to screw up Shilo's life any more than he already had. He tried being frank. "I'm older and wiser than you. This isn't what you need."
Shilo bit her lip. "Everyone thinks they know what I need." She paused. "Is it me? I could get dressed up, like Amber..."
He placed a hand over her mouth. "That's not it, you're great. You're beautiful. You're seventeen--"
Shilo's hips rocked against his, and Graverobber saw white. A predatory bit of his brain gnawed at him. Why not do the girl? He wasn't planning on seeing her again after tomorrow, anyway. She was a cute girl. He could make this really good for her. That part of his brain began overriding the rest as his hand crept up to caress Shilo's breast. She threw her head back and gasped.
Yeah. He could just go down on her. No chance of getting her pregnant. Hardly even taking advantage, not when she was begging him. Graverobber hitched up her shirt and kissed her body, starting in the hollow of her throat, working down to her breasts, spending a little quality time with each nipple. Shilo writhed, loudly yelling her approval with each motion. He slid down, letting his hands drag over her belly, feeling her jump, then her knees. He spread her legs.
Shilo sat up and gave him a curious look. "What--" she started but didn't finish as he kissed her between her legs, making her temporarily loss control of her vocal cords. Her body went limp, except for her spine, which arched and twisted. Graverobber was having a grand time watching and listening to her. So responsive. He was curious to see how she'd react to a cock, how wet she'd be. He tried to put those thoughts aside but couldn't help sliding in a finger.
Shilo screamed and almost came off the bed. He chuckled at the flushed look on her face, the almost lazily sensual smile she gave him. "You back on Earth?" he asked her. She nodded.
"First hit's free, right?" she asked him when she could finally speak.
"Yeah."
II. Two Nights.
They slept late the next day, and by the time Graverobber woke, it was already past noon. He sat up to see Shilo laying on her tummy, head propped up in her hands, watching TV. She'd actually gotten that antique to work.
Feeling him stir, Shilo turned to look at him and said, "Good morning." To his relief, that was all -- she didn't pounce on him and try to kiss him, or burst into tears, or strip her clothes off and offer herself to him like a trembling virgin sacrifice. Graverobber had a spark of hope that maybe nothing had changed after all, that they'd shared last night and now she'd walk out of his life and not look back.
She followed him down to the lobby, still wearing his shirt and her own filthy skirt. Not that he looked much better. There was still a lukewarm pot of coffee and some donuts in the lobby, and Shilo sat down to eat while Graverobber tried to check out. Emphasis on 'tried'. As it turned out, checkout time was 11 a.m., and the manager of this dump had automatically booked him for another night. Graverobber glanced over at Shilo, who was enthusiastically devouring a donut. He could just walk out, but hey, the room was still theirs for another night, and it seemed like a shame to waste it. Two showers in a row never hurt anyone.
"Banana?" Shilo was standing at his elbow, fruit in hand.
Graverobber grinned. "No, thanks. I'm trying to quit." He handed her the key.
Shilo frowned. "What's this?"
"We're staying for another night, and I don't have a spare pocket. Hold it for me." The truth was he planned to walk out tonight while she was showering, and leave her there. Let her get some sleep. It seemed like a good plan.
They left the hotel and went to a hole-in-the-wall place down the street that carried a little bit of everything. Shilo wandered around staring at butterflies pinned behind glass and posters from old movies. She'd had bent down to examine a kid's rocking horse when Graverobber walked up behind her and casually drapped a shirt over her head. "Hey!" Shilo plucked it off her head, shot him a wry look, and said, "A shirt? You bought me a shirt?"
He placed a skirt and some socks into her arms. "I need my shirt back. And I didn't know your shoe size."
She went into the bathroom to change, and Graverobber considered abandoning her right there. It'd be kinder in the long run. The more time she spent with him, the more she depended on him, following him around like a puppy. He needed to get back to business. He'd just stood up when Shilo appeared and twirled around, showing off her new clothes. She held up his shirt and suggested, "We could go wash it at the motel."
That made sense, and he couldn't think of any excuses, so off they went back to the motel. Shilo sat on a washer and giggled as the machine rocked back and forth. "Ride 'em, cowboy," chuckled Graverobber as the girl struggled to stay on. He backed up to her and let Shilo wrap her arms around his shoulders and lifted her off the machine, spinning her around a couple of times while she shrieked with something between fear and joy. Shilo slipped off him and pressed against him, still laughing.
"Six," she gasped.
"What?"
"Six. My shoe size is six."
The dryer buzzed.
They collected their pitifully small load of laundry and strolled back to their room. Shilo fumbled with the key, and Graverobber crowded her, purposefully making it harder for her to open the door. She was swatting at him with a sock when they finally tumbled into the room. He dumped their laundry in a chair and looked around to see Shilo playing with the cameo around her neck, absently resting her palm on her breast. The tension was back. It was as though they'd left one reality outside and stepped through the door to another. Shilo was so close to him. When did she get so close? Had she always stood so close?
She pressed her forehead to his chest, breathing deeply, as though inhaling his scent. He touched her face, intending to push her away but instead he kissed her lips, her soft lips, and when he broke away he heard her sigh. He backed her up until the backs of her knees touched the bed, and then Shilo sat down, then stretched out underneath him. Her hands ran through his hair, touching each ear, his neck. He thrust against her very lightly, and her legs wrapped around him, urging him on. "Oh, please," she whispered. "Please." As he reached to pull off her panties. She kicked off her shoes herself.
Graverobber sat up to pull off his shirt, and almost laughed out loud when Shilo took the opportunity to unbuckle his pants for him. "Take it easy, kid," he told her, shrugging out of his clothes. Her eyes explored him, from his shoulders to his chest, to the junction of his thighs. She was so enthusiastic. Graverobber had fucked a few virgins in his time, whimpering knock-knee'd creatures. Shilo shook when he touched her, but her hands covered his and directed him to her breasts, her lips, her wetness. Graverobber slipped a pair of fingers inside, making her yelp like last night. Damn. He wanted in her so badly.
He pulled back, hearing Shilo whine in protest. She sat up on her elbows. "Wow," she said, seeing him erect. "It's... big."
Graverobber laughed. "You're adorable, kid. Adorable." He let his cock rub against her, as though asking for permission. Shilo wiggled a little bit, and the head slipped inside. So warm. So tight. He saw stars and had to struggle to keep from thrusting in with all his might. He gripped her hips so hard she'd have bruises tomorrow, and pushed in a little further. Shilo hissed, unused to being penetrated. It occured to him that it might be easier on her just to thrust in hard once, instead of easing in centimeter by centimeter. He kissed her neck, distracting her from the pain, sucking a little on each earlobe, and when he felt her relax he tried a short, hard pump. Shilo gave a shaky cry and wrapped her legs around him again, pushing him in deeper. She felt so good, like a dream, gripping him from the inside. Graverobber thrust a couple more times, harder each time, and Shilo writhed with pleasure. She seemed to love all of it. He tried to slow down but couldn't get control of himself.
Now Graverobber was ramming into her with all his might, enraptured by the liquid heat shooting through his veins, the tortured/pleasured look on Shilo's face. The bed squeaked madly. Her nails dug into his back, leaving red marks that he couldn't feel. She bit her lip. "Hey, it's okay," he told her. He struggled for more breath. "Talk to me. Talk to me." The wet sounds of their bodies meeting, the bedsprings, it was the most beautiful music he'd ever heard. Now all he needed was to make Shilo sing.
Her back arched and she flailed around until her hands gripped the headboard of the bed and clung to it. Her moans grew loader, into screams. He felt his own climax coming, and desperately tried to hold on. He was pistoning into her, almost lifting her off the bed, she'd be sore and covered in bruises tomorrow, and he'd be scratched to hell, and she spasmed around him and tears leaked out of her eyes. Shilo wailed. Her muscles gripping him undid Graverobber, and he released into her, collapsing onto her. Graverobber shook. He sucked in air, weak as a kitten. He knew he had to be crushing Shilo but he couldn't lift himself up, much less roll off her. She was so still that for a moment he thought she might be unconscious, but then a hand stroked his hair.
III. Vegas Baby Vegas.
Shilo stirred as something stiff and increasingly familiar slid between her legs, rubbing the bottom of her buttocks. A rush of warmth flooded her belly. She was naked, curled in bed with Graverobber. No one had ever seen her naked before, not really, except for her dad when she was very little and that didn't even count. She tried to push away the memories of her father's face, his voice. Tonight, of all nights, Shilo was desperate to be free of ghosts.
She rolled over onto her belly, shoving pillows out of her way so she could breathe. Graverobber moved to cover her, planting sucking kisses down her spine. The air made her skin tingle when it touched where his lips had been a moment before. His hand slipped beneath her, pulling her up to all fours, then joined the other hand in teasing her breasts and nipples before moving to stroke her back. He pushed at her entrance, and Shilo instinctively spread her legs wider.
"You okay, Shilo?" he asked.
She nodded mutely. That didn't seem to satisfy him, as he gently patted her on her bottom and asked again, "No, are you okay?"
"I--" she choked out. She peered at him over her shoulder. In the twilight he looked even bigger than she remembered, fierce, predatory. Shilo trembled. She was letting a man who's real name she didn't even know fuck her senseless all night. Her dad would be horrified.
Maybe Graverobber had the mutant power of mindreading, because he snapped, "No. Don't think about him. Don't think about any of them. They're not here, we are. We are." As though to drive the point home, he pressed his hips against her, stopping just short of penetrating her. Electricity ran down Shilo's spine to the tips of her fingers and toes. Her body was aching for something, something she'd had no name for before tonight. Now she was drunk on it, giddy, higher than any of Graverobber's scalpel sluts.
"You're here with me," said Graverobber, his hands exploring the curve of her hips, trailing down to her thighs. Shilo's skin prickled deliciously. "With me. You're not a ghost to me."
He slipped in more easily than last time, as though her body recognized him and welcomed him back. Shilo groaned in protest when he pulled back out almost immediately.
"Do you know what I see when I look at you?" His voice deepened, she felt it in her chest.
"I don't know."
Graverobber thrust back in again. "Not a dead woman." Shilo gripped the mattress desperately, then gave that up and grabbed the headboard with one hand to brace herself. He was pounding into her now, long hard strokes that left her gasping, exhaling with little squeaks. She wrenched her eyes shut, concentrating on the feel of him sliding in and out of her, his hands on her hips, the rocking of the bed, his soft cursing, the tension pooling between her legs.
Shilo looked back again to see him shaking and moaning as he thrust into her. Beautiful. She was doing that to him, her body, Shilo. No one else could give him this moment. Only her.
Graverobber shifted his weight over her, pushing her towards the headboard a little more so that he could rest his own hands on it. She was going to wring an orgasm out of him soon enough, but Shilo looked as though she needed a little encouragement to help her along. He quickened his thrusts, going shallower and faster, and was rewarded with panting. His tongue flicked out and licked her right below her ear, and that was it, she went over the edge with a low moan. A couple of more strokes finished him as well, and he wrapped his arms around Shilo, pressing her to him, her back to his chest, holding her through the aftershocks.
Fuck. At this rate, Shilo was going to ruin him for other women. Graverobber sighed and pulled himself off her. He pulled a pillowcase off a pillow and used it to clean himself off, then stood up, albeit shakily. "You okay now?" he asked.
Shilo's expression was one of perfect contentment. When she answered "Oh, yeah" he believed her this time. Shilo sprawled across the bed, sated. When she saw him dressing she perked up and asked, "Where are you going?"
"I'm afraid I have prior engagements with some very lovely ladies," Graverobber told her. "They're a bit stiffer than you, and colder too, but it wouldn't be right to leave them six feet under tonight." Accepting this, Shilo laid back and dozed off. She was vaguely aware of rustling noises, and the door opening and closing, but she didn't wake back up. It seemed natural to hear him come and go.
In her dreams they came back to her, Daddy and Mag and the horrors, and when she awoke Shilo found a note on the nightstand that said "Order some takeout" with a little money, and under it an envelope with her name on it. She opened it and found a bus ticket to Las Vegas.
IV. Smile This Is Hollywood.
When Graverobber opened the dumpster, he wasn't expecting to find Shilo Wallace inside. Not quite the shock of his life, but close. She was sitting crosslegged, a patchwork satchel in her lap. She looked even smaller and more delicate than he remembered.
"I'm sorry, this one's taken," Shilo told him. She reached up, grabbed the lid, and slammed it back down.
Graverobber stepped back, then realized his mouth was slack and shut it quickly. Usually he was two or three hundred steps ahead of everyone else; he wasn't used to being caught off guard. He paced back and forth a couple of times, debating over whether to just leave her there. Finally he knocked lightly on the dumpster's lid. No answer. He knocked again.
Shilo opened the lid and stood up. She glowered at him. He tried his most charming smile and asked, "May I come in?"
Before he could say anything else, Shilo climbed out of the dumpster, slung her satchel over her shoulder, and stormed off. Graverobber ran after her, his longer legs easily matching her stride. Shilo glared at him, the effect somewhat ruined by the tears she was desperately trying to blink away. Something deep inside Graverobber's ruin of a conscience hissed at him.
"Looks like rain," he said as casually as he could manage.
Shilo wrapped her arms around herself. Her babydoll sleeves and stockings weren't doing much to protect her against the chill. "I won't melt."
When she reached the next street corner she stopped in her tracks. Either some survival instinct was telling her not to go further, or her burst of angry energy had worn off. Graverobber shrugged out of his coat and offered it to her.
Shilo's eyes were like a stab to the gut, but she put the coat on. Graverobber looked around at the darkened alleys, the pile of trash he'd just stepped over, the bum sleeping in a doorway. "You could've picked a safer area of town to crash," he told her.
She turned away from him, hunching her shoulders. "I made it before you, I'll make it after you."
He didn't have a response to that, so he ignored it and said, "Couldn't leave the City of Angels, was that it?"
Shilo whirled around, her expression pure exasperation. "I did go to Vegas, Graverobber."
He blinked and said, "You're back." No wonder he hadn't seen her around L.A. the last two weeks.
"Yeah. No thanks to your one-way ticket." Shilo shoved her hands into the coat pockets. Her brows knit as she pulled out a stub.
Graverobber coughed lightly as she stared at it, squinting in the poor light cast by the flickering streetlamp. "You went to Vegas, too?" she asked, waving the stub dated last week at him. "To look for me?"
"I had business there," Graverobber told her. He'd spent five days prowling the city, hunting through hobo camps and under bridges, asking every zydrate addict and pimp and hooker he came across if they'd seen a dark-haired girl with innocent eyes. He'd given up long after he should have. He told himself that Shilo was probably turning tricks for a pimp somewhere, or already had her cranium looted for the delicious chemicals obtained inside.
Shilo shoved the ticket stub back inside the pocket. "This doesn't mean I forgive you," she told him stiffly.
"I never asked you to," Graverobber reminded her. He walked her back to her dumpster, and told her to keep the coat for tonight. "I'll get it in the morning," he said.
Shilo frowned. "It's cold."
Graverobber laughed. "In L.A.? Never. You've never seen cold. In Alaska it gets so cold that your skin will crack open if the air touches it." He noded sagely, but he'd never been to Alaska, any more than Shilo had, but he'd read a book about it that he'd shoplifted when he was fourteen. "This is nice spring weather to them."
Los Angeles doesn't turn cold, but it's graverobbers do when they root around in piles of corpses, when they see girls younger than Shilo selling themselves, blood stains on the concrete (Repo Man's calling card), kidneys and intestines hawked on TV that could be financed with human lives. Graverobber thought about those things while scoring zydrate that night, trying to ignore the biting air and the temptation to rush back to Shilo's dumpster to check on her. What did it matter if she wasn't there in the morning? He could get another coat.
He had, in fact, liberated a nice silk tie from a wealthy gentleman who couldn't take it (or anything else) with him earlier that evening. It had amused him to put it on, as though he was one of those clean-cut businessmen who panted over Amber Sweet's ever-changing body. He fiddled with the tie idly as he asked a corpse, "Hey, you don't think I'm a bastard, do you?"
The corpse didn't reply. Graverobber sighed and chucked it back into it's tomb. "Never mind."
He was halfway across the cemetery when search lights exploded around him. He ducked behind a tombstone and then crawled under a fence, taking off into the labyrinthine alleys, trusting the night to hide him as it always did.
Shilo had ventured from her dumpster to find food. She draped Graverobber's coat over her shoulders like a cape, tying the arms across her chest in an embrace. She was digging in her pockets for the few coins she had left, wondering what she might buy with that little money, when she heard pounding footsteps behind her. A search light nearly blinded her when she turned around. Graverobber raced past her in a blur.
They were after him again, probably trying to capture or execute them like they had when she first saw him in the cemetery, when Repo Man saved her. Shilo made her choice quickly. "He went that way!" she screamed, pointing down the street. Rotti's goons (probably Amber's now, Shilo thought) raced off that way. Shilo leaned against a wall, panting, her hands sweaty. Suddenly, Graverobber's coat was choking her. As she pulled it off, a head popped out of a nearby pile of garbage.
"Thanks a lot, kid," Graverobber said as he climbed out. Shilo couldn't look him in the face. For a moment she'd wanted those men to capture him, to hurt him even worse than he'd hurt her. But Shilo Wallace wasn't a murderer. She'd been raised better than that. She offered him his coat but he shook his head.
"We'll share," he offered, and at Shilo's perked eyebrow he added, "The dumpster. It's a cold night."
That was hardly a lie, and it wasn't like Graverobber was likely to hurt or kill her. She had nothing to steal that he hadn't already taken. They walked back to her dumpster and huddled inside, wrapping the coat around them like a blanket. Shilo found herself grateful for his body warmth. Her anger hadn't kept her warm, and her resentment hadn't provided much company.
He dug around in his bag and produced a few vials of zydrate for light and a small packet of crackers. Shilo dug in, eager to sate the hunger that gnawed her insides raw. After gulping down a handful, she asked, "What's with the tie?"
"Oh, this old thing?" Graverobber sounded almost bored. "Just a little something I throw on from to time."
Shilo reached out and stroked the tie. It felt luxurious, softer than skin. She tugged a little and it came loose. Shilo laughed softly. "You don't know how to tie a tie?"
Graverobber shrugged. The zydrate lent his features an eerie blue glow, much like it had the first time she'd seen him. "Never had anyone to teach me."
Well, Shilo's dad had taught her, so she quickly tied it around her neck, primping a little to make him smile. He held up a zydrate vial to watch her tie it. "Does it ever stop glowing?" she asked.
"Not that I've seen," he replied.
They woke the next morning pressed the one against the other's side, her head resting on his shoulder, his chin atop her head. Her hair tickled his nose and Graverobber almost sneezed. Shaking himself, he woke her, too, and they climbed out of the dumpster. Stretching her sore muscles, Shilo examined Graverobber in the daylight. He had wiped his makeup off, and she thought he would look different, but he didn't, not really. His skin looked warmer, more real. There was a small scar on his right cheek that was hard to see at night. It looked almost like a starburst.
He caught her looking and gave her a half-smile. "Curious about something?"
Shilo reached out to touch the scar, but pulled back at the last moment. "What happened?" she asked.
Graverobber grimaced. "You ever cook with oil? Know how hot it gets?"
"No," she admitted. Shilo's dad had usually cooked.
"Yeah," he shook his head. "I hope you don't." Then he looked her over, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "You're still wearing my tie."
Shilo grinned and said, "It looks better on me."
"It does," he agreed.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2009-01-07 03:49 am (UTC)"Graverobber laughed. "In L.A.? Never. You've never seen cold. In Alaska it gets so cold that your skin will crack open if the air touches it." He noded sagely, but he'd never been to Alaska, any more than Shilo had, but he'd read a book about it that he'd shoplifted when he was fourteen. "This is nice spring weather to them." "
This little passage is one of my favourite things in the history of... well, ever. I liked that you explored a little immaturity in his character as well- he LIKES being the all-knowing badass, but sometimes he doesn't know what the fuck he's talking about. And that's okay, because he doesn't really need to. (Actually, he reminds me a hell of a lot of a teenage boy- emotionally perhaps as stunted as Shilo?) anyway.
Great work.
no subject
Date: 2009-01-07 09:44 pm (UTC)Thanks! I always had this last chapter planned out, and I wanted to leave it a little bit hopeful but ambiguous. The reader is invited to fill in the blanks about whether they become friends, lovers, or Shilo just walks away and leaves GR there after that last line.
This little passage is one of my favourite things in the history of... well, ever.
Thanks. On the other hand, I think this passage may be the saddest thing I've ever written:
"it wasn't like Graverobber was likely to hurt or kill her. She had nothing to steal that he hadn't already taken."
(Actually, he reminds me a hell of a lot of a teenage boy- emotionally perhaps as stunted as Shilo?)
I perceive GR as almost Shilo's mirror image. Where she's been overprotected, he hasn't been protected enough. He knows how to land on his feet, which is why the last chapter was so interesting to write -- Shilo's thrown him off balance. She strips him of his armor (his coat) and of everything beautiful and precious to him that he pretends he doesn't care about (the tie). There's been a shift of power and GR's scrambling to find his foothold.