Mocha and Chocolate Truffle with Malt, Blueberries, Peaches, and Pineapple
Author: Nikki
Beta/Editor: Kelly
Challenge: Mocha #28 (don't try this at home), Chocolate Truffle #6 (one hit wonder)
Toppings/Extras: Malt (PFAH: Rayne: Doesn't that look a little d-d-dangerous?), Blueberries (I feel my fate in what I cannot fear.), Peaches (Some people you've met over the past few weeks could turn out to be more interesting than you originally thought.), Pineapple (That girl is the gun to my holster.)
Word Count: 1,635
Rating: PG-13
Notes: Takes place in December 2013. My piece for Summer Challenge - 5/25.
Story: Phase; the title of this is “The Edge of Glory.”
Summary: Angie and Rayne’s first date.
She had been a waitress since she was fifteen, and considering how she was shaped, Rayne was pathetically used to sleazy customers. It wasn’t as bad in New York City as it had been in Dallas or Chicago or various dive bars along the way, thanks to Sal, but that didn’t mean that people didn’t get sloppy when they got drunk. So when she was clearing a table and felt a hand on her ass, she considered grabbing a glass and smashing it over someone’s head.
She wasn’t expecting for the tray in her hand to be snatched away, and she ducked on instinct. There was a crunch, a sound of pain, and Rayne could only gape when she looked behind her to find Angie slamming someone against an empty table, twisting his arm behind his back into an unnatural position.
“Someone get him off of me!” the guy yelled, his words odd and muffled behind a broken nose. “He’s breaking my fucking arm!”
Angie grinned, something horrible and cracked around the edges, and Rayne finally found her voice. “Angie, stop it!” Scrambling to her feet, she grabbed Angie’s arms and dug her nails in. “Angie, let go.”
Blue eyes snapped to Rayne, and she finally noticed how bad Angie looked. Her pupils were pinpricked, eyes wide and blue and horribly aware, and sweat dotted her forehead. There was a scrape along her cheekbone, a bruise on her jaw. Softer, she repeated herself. “Angie... let go.”
Angie didn’t. “He touched you,” she said, and the anger that darkened her voice was too familiar for Rayne to stand.
“And now he has a broken nose and probably some cracked teeth. That’s good enough. Let him go.”
Rayne thought that Angie was going to ignore her and break the guy’s arm anyway. It surprised her when Angie slowly let go of the guy. He turned around and tried to throw a punch, but Sal stopped him with a slap to the face before Rayne could even flinch; the man fell to the floor, his eyes rolling in pain. She hadn’t even noticed that Sal had showed up.
She had to dig her nails into Angie’s arm when she made a move to attack him again.
“Rayne, take the rest of the night off, and take your friend home.”
“But, Sal...”
“We’ll talk tomorrow,” he told her, and Rayne relaxed. She wasn’t fired; she was just in trouble. She could deal with that.
“Fine. I’m sorry.”
Sal shrugged. “He deserved it. I’ll take care of him. You go.”
She couldn’t argue with that, and dragged Angie out the door, throwing her apron behind the bar on the way out. She could get her tips tomorrow. She knew they’d be waiting for her. As soon as they were out the door, Rayne pushed Angie into an alley and turned on her. “What the fuck, Angie?” she asked, and that was all she could say. What the fuck are you doing here? What the fuck were you thinking? What the fuck are you on?
“He touched you,” she repeated, leaning against the wall, and playing with her lighter. Her voice was almost a growl, and Rayne saw the angry sneer on her lips before Angie let the flame on her lighter go out.
“A lot of guys touch me! I work at a bar. It happens, and it sucks, and it doesn’t give you the fucking right to assault somebody!” Rayne yelled.
“I could have done worse,” Angie muttered, and Rayne went cold.
The anger draining out of her, Rayne uselessly threw her hands in the air. “Angie... How did you even know that I work here?”
“I didn’t. I wanted a drink, I found a bar.” Angie’s eyes flicked over to Rayne, and she looked at her in a way that made Rayne’s stomach twist. “I found you.”
“I could have handled him.”
“You shouldn’t have to.”
“No, I shouldn’t. But I also shouldn’t have to be told to go home four hours early during a busy shift because someone I met three days ago decided I needed rescuing.” Pressing a hand to her forehead, Rayne sighed, and they fell into silence.
Angie was the one to break it. “...Have you ever been trestling?”
“What the hell is trestling?”
“It’s fun.” Angie pushed herself off of the wall, and grabbed Rayne’s hand as she stumbled out of the alley. “Come on, come with me. It’s better with two people, anyway.”
She was tempted to pull her hand away and say no. No, I can’t, I need to go home, shower, change clothes, I smell like a bar. She almost said, “Let’s go to my place first”, but she knew where that would end up. Instead, she said, “Okay.”
Rayne soon discovered that trestling involved the railroad tracks. By the time they reached where Angie wanted to go, her cheap winter jacket had stopped working. Helping her down a particularly steep hill, Angie noticed her shivering. Before Rayne knew what was happening, Angie had shrugged off her own jacket to place it around her shoulders. The heavy leather weighed her down, but it was comforting.
It also left Angie in nothing more than jeans and a t-shirt. “Angie, I can’t take your jacket. You’ll freeze,” Rayne protested, already moving to take the jacket off.
“No, babe. I am perfectly fine without it,” Angie answered, grinning in a cocky way that fit her completely. Rayne noticed she was sweating still, too much for how cold of a night it was. “Besides, it almost looks better on you.”
“Almost?” Rayne sniffed, delicately following after Angie as she led her to a rocky, climbable area under the railroad tracks.
She glanced over her shoulder at Rayne. “Let me see you in just the jacket. It’ll probably change my mind.” The way she said it made Rayne’s toes curl inside her shoes. She hurried her steps.
“Angie, why did we have to come all the way out here?” Rayne finally asked, after Angie had grabbed her hand to help her across a loose patch of rocks. Her hands were firm, rough and calloused; Rayne shivered.
“You’ll see,” Angie answered, not letting go of Rayne’s hand and pulling her closer. “The train will be here soon.” Rayne found her back pressed against one of the concrete covered metal beams that held up the tracks; Angie’s jacket kept her from feeling the coldness of it. “You’ll see,” Angie repeated, voice quieter.
Rayne’s eyes fluttered shut when Angie kissed her. It was soft as first, but quickly changed. Angie tangled her fingers in Rayne’s hair, kissed her rougher, deeper, and pressed her harder against the beam. Heat throbbed at the tips of her breasts and low in her stomach, and Rayne grabbed at Angie’s shoulders when she pressed a knee in between her thighs.
The beam behind her began to vibrate, and Angie pulled away. Her head spinning, Rayne opened her eyes to find her staring up at the railroad tracks and smiling that horrible and cracked smile from earlier.
“Stay here,” Angie said, it almost sounding like an afterthought, before she took a running jump and grabbed onto one of the low hanging beams. Rayne fully snapped to attention when Angie started to climb upward.
“Angie, what the fuck are you doing!?” she nearly screamed, helplessly watching her climb closer and closer to the bottom of the tracks.
“Trestling!” Angie yelled back, her answer crowded with laughter. Anything else she said was lost in the sound of the train going overhead. Even from where she was, Rayne felt the vibrations from the track pound through her, and she watched the tracks above her, scared to death with the thought that she was going to see Angie fall.
The train seemed to take forever to pass, and Rayne wasn’t sure she breathed the entire time. It was almost out of earshot when Angie finally climbed down. The smile was still on her face, worse than before, and Rayne had the urge to step back when she landed on the gravel in front of her. That smile scared the hell out of her and pissed her off all at the same time.
“Don’t ever do that to me again,” she managed to say, and how quiet it was seemed to get Angie’s attention. The awful smile fell off her face.
Angie frowned, head tilting closer to Rayne. “Are you mad at me?” she asked, sounding honestly curious.
“No,” she answered after a thoughtful moment, “I’m not mad. You just scared the hell out of me and I hate when people do that.”
“I’ll remember.”
Rayne was about to ask if that was going to be the best apology she would get when Angie kissed her again. It was soon the same as before, Rayne sandwiched between concrete beam, cold and hard behind her, and Angie. In comparison, Angie made her skin burn with every touch.
“My place,” she murmured, breathless when they pulled apart.
Angie’s smirked, a slight curve of the lips that made the heat in Rayne’s stomach start to smolder. “We can’t fuck here?”
“Not in December.”
Without a warning, Angie grabbed Rayne by the hips and picked her up. She almost instinctively wrapped her legs around her waist, and Angie leaned against her until they were pressed together from shoulders to hips. “I could keep you warm.”
She nearly said yes. Rayne had to swallow, her mouth dry, before she could answer. Her voice was shakier than she would have liked. “Not in December.”
Nothing in Angie’s stance or demeanor changed, but she still somehow managed to emit disappointment. “Where’s your place?”
Rayne had barely rattled off a neighborhood before Angie pulled away from her, and the sudden cold of early winter made her gasp.
Beta/Editor: Kelly
Challenge: Mocha #28 (don't try this at home), Chocolate Truffle #6 (one hit wonder)
Toppings/Extras: Malt (PFAH: Rayne: Doesn't that look a little d-d-dangerous?), Blueberries (I feel my fate in what I cannot fear.), Peaches (Some people you've met over the past few weeks could turn out to be more interesting than you originally thought.), Pineapple (That girl is the gun to my holster.)
Word Count: 1,635
Rating: PG-13
Notes: Takes place in December 2013. My piece for Summer Challenge - 5/25.
Story: Phase; the title of this is “The Edge of Glory.”
Summary: Angie and Rayne’s first date.
She had been a waitress since she was fifteen, and considering how she was shaped, Rayne was pathetically used to sleazy customers. It wasn’t as bad in New York City as it had been in Dallas or Chicago or various dive bars along the way, thanks to Sal, but that didn’t mean that people didn’t get sloppy when they got drunk. So when she was clearing a table and felt a hand on her ass, she considered grabbing a glass and smashing it over someone’s head.
She wasn’t expecting for the tray in her hand to be snatched away, and she ducked on instinct. There was a crunch, a sound of pain, and Rayne could only gape when she looked behind her to find Angie slamming someone against an empty table, twisting his arm behind his back into an unnatural position.
“Someone get him off of me!” the guy yelled, his words odd and muffled behind a broken nose. “He’s breaking my fucking arm!”
Angie grinned, something horrible and cracked around the edges, and Rayne finally found her voice. “Angie, stop it!” Scrambling to her feet, she grabbed Angie’s arms and dug her nails in. “Angie, let go.”
Blue eyes snapped to Rayne, and she finally noticed how bad Angie looked. Her pupils were pinpricked, eyes wide and blue and horribly aware, and sweat dotted her forehead. There was a scrape along her cheekbone, a bruise on her jaw. Softer, she repeated herself. “Angie... let go.”
Angie didn’t. “He touched you,” she said, and the anger that darkened her voice was too familiar for Rayne to stand.
“And now he has a broken nose and probably some cracked teeth. That’s good enough. Let him go.”
Rayne thought that Angie was going to ignore her and break the guy’s arm anyway. It surprised her when Angie slowly let go of the guy. He turned around and tried to throw a punch, but Sal stopped him with a slap to the face before Rayne could even flinch; the man fell to the floor, his eyes rolling in pain. She hadn’t even noticed that Sal had showed up.
She had to dig her nails into Angie’s arm when she made a move to attack him again.
“Rayne, take the rest of the night off, and take your friend home.”
“But, Sal...”
“We’ll talk tomorrow,” he told her, and Rayne relaxed. She wasn’t fired; she was just in trouble. She could deal with that.
“Fine. I’m sorry.”
Sal shrugged. “He deserved it. I’ll take care of him. You go.”
She couldn’t argue with that, and dragged Angie out the door, throwing her apron behind the bar on the way out. She could get her tips tomorrow. She knew they’d be waiting for her. As soon as they were out the door, Rayne pushed Angie into an alley and turned on her. “What the fuck, Angie?” she asked, and that was all she could say. What the fuck are you doing here? What the fuck were you thinking? What the fuck are you on?
“He touched you,” she repeated, leaning against the wall, and playing with her lighter. Her voice was almost a growl, and Rayne saw the angry sneer on her lips before Angie let the flame on her lighter go out.
“A lot of guys touch me! I work at a bar. It happens, and it sucks, and it doesn’t give you the fucking right to assault somebody!” Rayne yelled.
“I could have done worse,” Angie muttered, and Rayne went cold.
The anger draining out of her, Rayne uselessly threw her hands in the air. “Angie... How did you even know that I work here?”
“I didn’t. I wanted a drink, I found a bar.” Angie’s eyes flicked over to Rayne, and she looked at her in a way that made Rayne’s stomach twist. “I found you.”
“I could have handled him.”
“You shouldn’t have to.”
“No, I shouldn’t. But I also shouldn’t have to be told to go home four hours early during a busy shift because someone I met three days ago decided I needed rescuing.” Pressing a hand to her forehead, Rayne sighed, and they fell into silence.
Angie was the one to break it. “...Have you ever been trestling?”
“What the hell is trestling?”
“It’s fun.” Angie pushed herself off of the wall, and grabbed Rayne’s hand as she stumbled out of the alley. “Come on, come with me. It’s better with two people, anyway.”
She was tempted to pull her hand away and say no. No, I can’t, I need to go home, shower, change clothes, I smell like a bar. She almost said, “Let’s go to my place first”, but she knew where that would end up. Instead, she said, “Okay.”
Rayne soon discovered that trestling involved the railroad tracks. By the time they reached where Angie wanted to go, her cheap winter jacket had stopped working. Helping her down a particularly steep hill, Angie noticed her shivering. Before Rayne knew what was happening, Angie had shrugged off her own jacket to place it around her shoulders. The heavy leather weighed her down, but it was comforting.
It also left Angie in nothing more than jeans and a t-shirt. “Angie, I can’t take your jacket. You’ll freeze,” Rayne protested, already moving to take the jacket off.
“No, babe. I am perfectly fine without it,” Angie answered, grinning in a cocky way that fit her completely. Rayne noticed she was sweating still, too much for how cold of a night it was. “Besides, it almost looks better on you.”
“Almost?” Rayne sniffed, delicately following after Angie as she led her to a rocky, climbable area under the railroad tracks.
She glanced over her shoulder at Rayne. “Let me see you in just the jacket. It’ll probably change my mind.” The way she said it made Rayne’s toes curl inside her shoes. She hurried her steps.
“Angie, why did we have to come all the way out here?” Rayne finally asked, after Angie had grabbed her hand to help her across a loose patch of rocks. Her hands were firm, rough and calloused; Rayne shivered.
“You’ll see,” Angie answered, not letting go of Rayne’s hand and pulling her closer. “The train will be here soon.” Rayne found her back pressed against one of the concrete covered metal beams that held up the tracks; Angie’s jacket kept her from feeling the coldness of it. “You’ll see,” Angie repeated, voice quieter.
Rayne’s eyes fluttered shut when Angie kissed her. It was soft as first, but quickly changed. Angie tangled her fingers in Rayne’s hair, kissed her rougher, deeper, and pressed her harder against the beam. Heat throbbed at the tips of her breasts and low in her stomach, and Rayne grabbed at Angie’s shoulders when she pressed a knee in between her thighs.
The beam behind her began to vibrate, and Angie pulled away. Her head spinning, Rayne opened her eyes to find her staring up at the railroad tracks and smiling that horrible and cracked smile from earlier.
“Stay here,” Angie said, it almost sounding like an afterthought, before she took a running jump and grabbed onto one of the low hanging beams. Rayne fully snapped to attention when Angie started to climb upward.
“Angie, what the fuck are you doing!?” she nearly screamed, helplessly watching her climb closer and closer to the bottom of the tracks.
“Trestling!” Angie yelled back, her answer crowded with laughter. Anything else she said was lost in the sound of the train going overhead. Even from where she was, Rayne felt the vibrations from the track pound through her, and she watched the tracks above her, scared to death with the thought that she was going to see Angie fall.
The train seemed to take forever to pass, and Rayne wasn’t sure she breathed the entire time. It was almost out of earshot when Angie finally climbed down. The smile was still on her face, worse than before, and Rayne had the urge to step back when she landed on the gravel in front of her. That smile scared the hell out of her and pissed her off all at the same time.
“Don’t ever do that to me again,” she managed to say, and how quiet it was seemed to get Angie’s attention. The awful smile fell off her face.
Angie frowned, head tilting closer to Rayne. “Are you mad at me?” she asked, sounding honestly curious.
“No,” she answered after a thoughtful moment, “I’m not mad. You just scared the hell out of me and I hate when people do that.”
“I’ll remember.”
Rayne was about to ask if that was going to be the best apology she would get when Angie kissed her again. It was soon the same as before, Rayne sandwiched between concrete beam, cold and hard behind her, and Angie. In comparison, Angie made her skin burn with every touch.
“My place,” she murmured, breathless when they pulled apart.
Angie’s smirked, a slight curve of the lips that made the heat in Rayne’s stomach start to smolder. “We can’t fuck here?”
“Not in December.”
Without a warning, Angie grabbed Rayne by the hips and picked her up. She almost instinctively wrapped her legs around her waist, and Angie leaned against her until they were pressed together from shoulders to hips. “I could keep you warm.”
She nearly said yes. Rayne had to swallow, her mouth dry, before she could answer. Her voice was shakier than she would have liked. “Not in December.”
Nothing in Angie’s stance or demeanor changed, but she still somehow managed to emit disappointment. “Where’s your place?”
Rayne had barely rattled off a neighborhood before Angie pulled away from her, and the sudden cold of early winter made her gasp.