Tiny Dancer [EverlyxSterling]

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Hearing Damien's sleepy demand of her to fuck off made Natalia smile. The poor bastard. He, of course, had no idea that his blonde-haired angel had just lied to him for the sake of her own amusement. By the look of it, he was too tired to even suspect her. For a moment, she felt guilty for misleading him so, but that moment soon faded. She would be with him always during this trip, so she was confident he wasn't going to get into trouble. He was bound to figure it out the first time somebody got pissed off at being thanked anyway.

She watched him fall asleep, then suddenly found herself waking up. The captain's voice over the intercom announced they were descending into Heathrow for the layover. It was an odd sort of transition, at least in Natalia's eyes. They were getting off the plane for three hours, then back on the same exact one. Refueling, she supposed, and getting a transfer of passengers. Not all of the ones riding with them were destined for Russia, and they were bound to be picking up new ones. Still, it gave them a few hours to wander around the airport. The last time she had been here, she had to run from one gate to the other to catch her flight and hadn't really seen anything.

"Wake up," she murmured to Damien, kissing his cheek and nudging him gently. Chances were that he was already awake, but any excuse to kiss him was fine with her.

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Lily's pale cheeks turned a bright pink as the detective called Jackson her boyfriend. What was worse was the knowledge that he likely only said it to get a rise out of her. If only she could have kept the color in her cheeks from showing up, but she never had been good at that. She sulked by way of not responding to him, just frowning a bit as he left.

She reached over, poking carefully with her fingers until she found the card he had left. There was no way for her to see it, and she knew that. Her sight wasn't coming back. That was what the doctor would said. This card would forever be black to her, but it was something tangible. Something to hold on to. It had a solid feeling much like Jackson did when he held her, despite the card being made only of cardstock paper. It could be ripped easily or be reduced to a useless pulp with a bit of water. For now it was rigid, and she could feel the slight rise and different smooth texture of the text on it. It was a connection to another person, even if she couldn't use it, and even if she didn't like him too much.

Feeling a little reassured, she put the card back where Malone had left it. Maybe the detective was worrying about nothing and butting in where he didn't need to. His voice had seemed tired now that she was thinking about it. He was no rookie. There was experience there. Weariness. He had clearly been in the field for a while. Maybe he was really good at it. He'd probably be fired otherwise. Maybe.. just maybe.. she was wrong about just how much danger she was in.

Suddenly she felt wretchedly alone.

"Jackson..?"
 
Damien was caught in the dreamy twilight of having just opened his eyes from a nap when Natalia's lips pressed against his. A stiffness lingered from the intense fucking in the bathroom just hours prior. Though depleted, Damien still managed to become erect at the mere memory of their tryst. His lips struck out for Natalia when she pulled back for a breath, and his hand about the back of her neck ensured she did not stray far.

Being a pilot, Damien retained a compliance for certain rules of aerial flight. One was buckling in for take-off and landing. These were the times when a powered aircraft was most likely to crash, and being secured to the seat made sense from a safety perspective. Still, he wanted to playfully push Natalia prone and climb on top of her. Time enough for that when we reach a hotel, he thought. No, safety first was prudent, and Damien actually checked Natalia's belt once he fastened his own. He thought her look was a mixture of endearment and amusement. That was fine, and she'd likely tease him later.

The landing was hard, owing to the rain that drove down onto the plane as it descended. The cross-winds threw the nose of the aircraft this way and that, and Damien felt a selfish relief that the problems associated with driving the 747 belonged to someone else. There was a short wait as the plane taxied to the gate, and Damien passed the time by running his nails across the bottom of Natalia's breasts and watching her squirm. The fiery look she returned meant he would surely get it later.

The deplaning process was arduous, and Damien missed being the sole occupant of the cockpit and able to simply pop the windshield to climb down a ladder. Damien ended up helping a number of passengers with their over-sized bags stowed above the aisle before he and Natalia walked toward the hatch. The Russian stewardess was at the head of the aisle, smiling and waving to each passenger as they turned to depart. She seemed to summon a special smile for Damien, to which he nodded kindly and said "Fuck Off" in Russian.

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The wait outside of Lily's room was pure torture. Being a security guard afforded Jackson the notion that he enjoyed unfettered access to virtually any part of the hospital. Being in the room of Lily Corrigan while she was being interviewed shattered that notion for the illusion it was. Jackson felt an unusual relief when the nicotine-scented detective exited the room and headed for the elevators.

Jackson stowed the detective's contact card in his breast pocket as Lily's voice called out to him. He thought her voice was lonely and quietly needy, and the sound of her tone broke Jackson's heart. To strangers, Lily came across as an independent woman, but the fragility in her voice suggested otherwise. Jackson returned inside the room and swept to Lily's side.

"I'm here, Lily ..."

His arms were around her before she could move or speak. Jackson extended his loving presence, hoping it flowed into the woman as a deluge of feeling. His massive arms wrapped Lily in a protective cocoon wrought both from her need for stability, as well as his own desire what challenges the detective revealed to Lily.

"What did the detective have to say? He said you needed help?"
 
Natalia raised an eyebrow when Damien reached over her lap and fastened her seat belt. Her concerned little soldier. She gave him a smile, half tempted to laugh at his worry, but also struck by how much he cared. Her arm curled around his, nestled by his side as they landed. It was a hard landing, but she expected that. For some reason, there never seemed to be a smooth landing when she was on a plane. She almost wondered what it would be like. For now, she kept her thoughts focused on the layover. A bit of time here at Heathrow, then on to Russia.

She stretched as she stood, stepping back to allow Damien to go down the aisle first. He stopped repeatedly to help others, but she didn't mind the wait. By now she was almost used to it. She followed along behind him, pleased that he wasn't facing her when he spoke to the stewardess, because she could not restrain a grin. The woman looked surprised, but Natalia simply gave her a wave and followed her love off the plane before the stewardess could start yelling after them.

"So, what do you want to do while we wait?" she asked Damien, taking his hand and trying to control her urge to laugh.

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Lily heard Jackson's voice a mere moment before his arms were around her. She turned toward the warmth of his body on instinct, tucking her head against his shoulder. Jackson was a solid presence. Though she could not see him, she pictured him as a sort of human wall. A defense against the outside. There was nothing in the world that this man could not protect her from. He was here for her and had promised that he always would be until she sent him away. Her worry over the Detective's words faded and she relaxed, letting out a soft sigh as she pushed all of the anxious thoughts out of mind.

"He thinks I'm in danger, but I think he may be overreacting," she explained. "I guess the guy who pushed me down in the road was some drug dealer that Detective Malone is trying to catch, but I don't know the guy at all, so I couldn't really help. He probably already thinks I'm dead anyway. I don't know why the detective is so worried."

She relaxed more, her mind starting to wander.

"Jackson, I think I'd really like to take you up on that offer for a hotel for a few days instead of going home," she said quietly after a minute of silence. She couldn't face her parents, not yet. Time to think was what she really needed. She didn't know what she would end up doing, but a few days to sort things out mentally and get used to this whole being blind thing outside of the hospital would be incredibly useful. "If.. If that's still an offer, that is.."
 
Eager to brave the new world before the couple lured Damien's attention from the stewardess. He failed to see the woman's reaction, which remained a mystery --- little did Damien realize he would absorb the full impact of Natalia's joke when he returned. Until then, Damien was oblivious, craning his head in all directions to both enjoy the new experience and keep vigilant about where to head next. Luckily, the airport was designed well, with thoughtful application toward passengers flowing in natural routes. Damien realized he must resemble a wide-eyed little boy off the farm for the first time. He exhaled shallowly, a breath that ended in a smile. Damien glanced at Natalia when she asked what they should do, and found her struggling to suppress a grin. "What so funny?" Damien asked.

Damien accepted not getting a reply from his lover, and just shook his head, hoping that he wasn't the brunt of some joke in her warped mind. Damien was struck by the fact that he wasn't familiar with Natalia's sense of humor. They had endured such heavy emotions over the past week that a little levity would be welcomed, especially given their circumstances. Airports were places of transit; people were either coming or going, which made the enjoyment of those staying all the more awkward. There was duty-free shopping and Cinnabon, but Damien resisted the notion of spending money they didn't have.

Finally, the sight of assorted palm fronds could be seen arcing gracefully into the terminal corridor. After round the corner of a smoothie bar, a cluster of couches could be seen enshrouded by a cluster of manicured palm shrubs. The scene was reminiscent of the oases Damien had heard of in the harsh Iraqi deserts, and there even a cylindrical fountain bubbling clear water at the center of the congress of couches. Damien sat down comfortably, keeping an arm outstretches on the cushion backs, reserving a place exclusively for Natalia.

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"Of course the offer is still good. I …"

I told you that you might need a place to stay. The statement rattled in Jackson's head came across more petulant than he intended, and his lips closed before the phrase was uttered. Snugness was not what Lily needed just then, she needed Jackson and he could feel the desperation in the strength of her grip. He sat on the bed, side-saddle, wanting to afford Lily as much room as possible. The space Jackson provided was consumed, immediately closed by Lily when she scooted blindly forward. The hotel room was the only way to separate Lily from her bat-shit crazy parents, and Jackson was prepared to pay from his own pocket to make sure Lily was safe. The Hospital relations agent was an agreeable sort, and mentioned during the last staff seminar that Hospital employees could enjoy a discount on the room rates. That meant Lily could stay longer than what Jackson would normally be able to afford.

He should she deserved every penny. She looked at him with those dull eyes, still bright with affection, wondering that Jackson was about to say earlier. He smiled.

"I only want to see you happy." He kissed her with true love.
 
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"Nothing, darling."

Natalia enjoyed her little joke, wondering just how many times Damien would utter it before he caught on. Hopefully at least twice more. She could use some more hilarity in her life, particularly now. The pleasant airport atmosphere was lost on Natalia, who was too busy wondering what lay ahead to focus on the colorful shops and chattering people. This was her first time going back to Russia since she had left it years ago. She had not even returned for her father's funeral. There was nothing there for her, or so she had thought. Apparently something was there. A house, perhaps? It could not be worth much if it belonged to her father. The mystery of it all felt heavy in her mind, but at the same time, she didn't care. It was a place to go with Damien.

She looked over at him as he sat down, a soft smile on her face. He seemed relaxed and comfortable, enjoying this journey. Anybody else would have refused, but he had simply come along for the ride. She sat down next to him, crossing her legs as she snuggled up to his side and placed a gentle kiss on his cheek.

"I love you, Damien."

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Lily felt a slight hesitation from Jackson and it worried her at first. Perhaps the offer was not still on the table. He had not reacted well when she had turned down the offer to move in with him. Perhaps she had hurt him and now he did not want to help her. Yet... that couldn't be true. He was here by her side, holding her in a comforting way. She still worried, about to take it back when suddenly he continued on. He wanted to see her happy. That made her fears evaporate and she smiled.

"I-" she began, but then his lips were on hers. A faint gasp slipped from her, more of an automatic reaction than anything. She had - obviously - not seen it coming and it took her quite by surprise. The warm touch was gentle but not hesitant. He was confident as he should be, considering she had kissed him first. Now she was kissing him again, delighted that he had initiated such a gesture.

"Alright, Lily, I've got-" a voice interrupted, startling Lily badly. She jumped, her cheeks immediately turning red. Oh, shit. That was the voice of a nurse. They had been caught. She could hear silence for a few seconds and she had no trouble imagining the shock on the poor woman's face. A moment later she heard the sound of a throat clearing. The woman was embarrassed, shifting her weight a bit and setting some papers down on a table. "You're.. being discharged. I'll be back in a few minutes to help you dress.." the nurse managed before quickly walking away.

"Oops," Lily whispered, biting her lip.
 
Damien felt like a sultan in his contemporary oasis, replete, and content with his Russian queen hanging on his arm. He saw deep love in her eyes, it was a love that could last many lifetimes. Damien wished he could taste immortality just so he could gaze into those grey eyes as the world passes into oblivion. His lips found her forehead. He kissed it perfectly.

"Anyone seen the controller?"

The snarky voice roused Damien from his momentary reverie. A man dressed in a brown suit sat comfortably in a neighboring couch, kicking his feet onto a nearby table cum ottoman. A black rectangle inhabited his grip, and he pointed the infernal device to a flat-screen television against the far wall. Damien (at least) had not seen the television, so cleverly was it hidden among the refuge palms. The screen took some seconds to warm, not having been turned on that day, but the voice of an anchorman blared from unseen speakers.

"And, in international news, a full one hundred insurgents were killed by special forces in the northern Kaldar Province yesterday. The coordinated attack was part of a larger initiative to root out insurgent strongholds south of the Iran border, who have been subjecting American and British troops to suicide bombing for the past six-"

Damien could feel it returning. The tension constricted his muscles like a tourniquet to an old wound, and Damien's entire body was soon filled with a tension he thought banished. Damien craned his head, and found the same news anchor could be seen in virtually every other gate waiting area in the terminal. The same face and images flashed in unison, engendering an infuriating simulacra. The hate was building, but a simple breath calmed his urge to act.

"Do you need to watch that here?" Damien asked the man. The thinnest layer of respect came from his question as the man turned his head. "... Sir," Damien finished.

"It's a free country, isn't it?" the man replied. His accent and snide words revealed himself as an American.

Because of people like me, Damien seethed privately. "You can watch that garbage in any other gate, you know."

The man ignored Damien, but the blue veins began to bulge at being challenged. When he spoke, he refused to make eye contact, simply answering in a steady tone. "I wanna see where my tax-dollars are going. I support our troops, why don't you?"

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Jackson bolted upright at the sound of the nurses intrusion. A quick of panic spiked from his gut, one that could spell the end of his job. However, it became apparent by the swift method of departure that the only mistake was not locking the door. If Jackson was going to be reported, the nurse would have been more indignant, and likely reprimanded Jackson. The security guard felt like he'd just dodged a speeding bullet. Jackson stood, taking Lily by the hand.

"That was kinda close .." Something resembling a chuckle crept into Jackson's statement. It was the lace of fear from being fired from a very good job. If he really wanted to help and support Lily, he needed to remain gainfully employed. That meant being much more discrete about the feelings that sparked between Lily and himself; an attraction that was nearly palpable.

"You can stay in the hotel here as long as I can afford, and I need to talk to the woman who runs employee relations. Security officers get a discount, and I need to talk to the woman once you're discharged." Jackson glanced down hesitantly at the raven-haired beauty as she sat upon the bed. "Do you want me to stay while you're being discharged? I mean ... I could wait outside if you need me to ..."
 
Natalia was in a blissful little bubble, eyes closed and all. However, the lovely sensation of Damien's lips on her forehead was interrupted by somebody who sounded like a cranky customer. She opened her eyes and peeked around Damien, having been conveniently hidden from the unpleasant sight. The man seemed to have a permanent scowl. Judging by his attitude and slouch, she assumed he was a businessman who was on a layover like they were. Either that or his plane was running late. That was a better explanation than the one that came to mind first - the guy was a dick.

Oh well. Traveling douchebags were a dime a dozen. She mentally shrugged it off and settled back in against Damien, but when she looked up at him, he wasn't focused on her. His eyes were locked on the television screen. Before she could scold him for paying more attention to some anchor bimbo than to her, she realized what they were talking about. Soldiers. Damien was as tense as could be. She frowned and curled an arm around him in an attempt to calm him down, but it failed utterly when he spoke to the asshole with the remote again. As soon as the other man snapped out a response. Oh dear.

It was then that Natalia realized just how much she had changed for Damien. Normally she would have egged Damien on and encouraged a fistfight. Men losing their tempers was hot, and she always loved watching a pair duke it out. However, this was an airport, not a strip club. The stakes were real and cameras were everywhere. Plus, she didn't want to see Damien lose his cool. His pulse was already a steady beat against her side and she worried that he would start throwing potted plants at the man.

"Damien? Let's walk around. We can shop while we wait for the plane," she suggested, tugging gently on his arm in an attempt to get him away.

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"Yeah, kinda.."

Lily was worried. What if the nurse told somebody else? She didn't want to be the reason that Jackson lost his job. If it came down to it, she would be more than willing to say that she had begged him to kiss her or threatened him if he didn't. Anything to keep him from suffering from something so silly. She was going to ask if she should be worried, but Jackson was talking about the hotel. Her anxiety faded and she shook her head with a smile.

"No, it's okay. You can go talk to your relations woman. I think they'll probably walk me to the door, so I'll wait for you there."

Once Jackson had gone, the nurse came back. It was awkward. She could not see the nurse, of course, but judging from the slight stutter as the woman helped her into her clothes, she assumed that she was blushing. Lily was bright red too. It was hard not to think about the feeling of Jackson's lips on hers when it was obvious that it was the only thing on the nurse's mind too. Somehow they managed to work together, getting her dressed in her normal clothes with a bag that contained an assortment of paperwork, Detective Malone's card, and a baggie with her purse from the night she had gotten hit.

Several minutes after they had started, Lily was guided down to the front door. She sat on a bench next to it and settled in to wait, unaware how odd of a picture she was painting for anybody that passed by. With a paper bag on one side and a vase of colorful flowers on the other - the only ones that were still alive - she looked like a patient ready to leave a hospital. However, she was dressed like a whore. The clothes that Natalia had dropped off for her before leaving were ones that were left at the club. As a result, she was sitting in a pair of black thigh-high stockings that had a myriad of small holes in them. Her long legs ended in a high pair of black heels, which she thankfully retained the skill for walking in even though she couldn't see the floor. She had on a tiny pair of jean shorts that barely covered her ass, and a black corset. That was it. The nurse had been kind enough to brush her hair out, leaving her with long black waves down her back as she hummed to herself and fidgeted.
 
Damien breathed steadily to control the building rage swelling within him. The bastard sitting on the neighboring couch was likely some war-hawk, Republican fucktard who gets off watching other Americans suffer in wars. Support the Troops, they say. It's become the refrain of the blind, ignorant masses too occupied with nationalistic masturbation to genuinely understand the horrid cost of combat. Damien wished Frank was here, he'd rip this tools head clean off. He had half a mind to just unplug the television as see where the chips fell.

"Damien? Let's walk ..."

It was less what Natalia said than the pure sound of her loving voice. Damien, in fact, apprehended little. He only felt the gentle tugging at his arm. She called, and he obeyed. Natalia was right, tangling with this epic dick was not worth the effort. The man could be punished in any number of ways, but in the end, Damien would be in custody. That was hardly the best way to assist his Russian love.

The pair walked for a few minutes and approached a cluster of airport pubs. The sound of talking and laughter spilled out onto the busy terminal, and a wry smile streaked across Damien's face.

"Care for a small drink?"

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Knock, knock, knock.

"Come in," a pleasant voice announced.

Jackson opened Vicky Sander's door cautiously, craning his head inside. He saw a middle-aged woman of portly build. Her very short hair was a classic marker, identifying the woman as a cancer survivor. The decor was tasteful, and the room smelled of Earl Grey. Jackson entered and closed the door, but not completely. "Hi ... Ms. Sanders? I'm Jackson Jones. I work security for the hospital, and I was wondering if I could reserve a room at the hospital's hotel."

"But, of course you can," the woman blathered, "just make an appointment with the hotel concierge."

A nervous smile broke through Jackson's facade. He always felt funny pressing folks for favors, even when entitled or mandated. "Well, I was ... hopin' to get the reduced rate for hospital employees."

"Reduced rate?" the woman puzzled. "Oh, that was for the introductory period of the hotel. That discount has since been replaced with full rates." The life drained from Jackson's eyes at the news. "Is there anything else, Mr. Jones?"

Creating a stir was something Jackson's mama never approved him doing. He was a man charged with dominating his physical environment for the safety and well-being of the hospital staff and patients. Yet, he felt completely disarmed at the mere mention of this bureaucratic obstacle. Jackson thought of Damien then, and instead of riding from his seat, he reclined.

"Yes, we need to brain-storm ways of reducing that hotel rate."

Ms. Sander's returned a dumb-struck face. "I ... I beg your pardon, Mr. Jones. That's not something we ... We can't do that."

"Can't, or won't," Jackson replied.

"Sir, with all due respect, this conversation is highly irregular."

"It doesn't bother me none." Jackson leaned forward, leaning on both elbows as he stared into the functionary's ghastly eyes. "Ma'am, I am in charge of a wonderful young woman, blinded by someone committing murder, who happens to also have abusive parents." Jackson eyes caught the crescent rim of Vicky Sander's peach fuzz. "I'm sure you know what it can mean to have someone looking out for you."

The woman trembled, ever so slightly, as she began typing on her computer. "Well, I suppose if you stay for more than a week, we could bump you to a residential rate."

"Sounds good ... What else ya got?" Jackson was privately enjoying his new charismatic power. "How about eliminating daily sheet and towel service? Make it weekly, instead."

Ms. Sander's visibly gulped, but nodded congenially. "With ... those rate amendments, that brings the daily rate to a weekly rate of $350, per week."

Jackson tried to hide his satisfaction. In pressing this woman, he achieved a better rate than the old employee discount could ever approach. Jackson stood and shook the woman's hand. "Thank you. You've been very helpful."

Jackson was speaking on his phone while he walked to the front entrance. "No, ... Non-smoking ... Queen-size is fine. What was the number? 511? Alright, thank you." He stood before Lily with a huge grin. "May I show you to your room?" Jackson, like a knight from a bygone era, removed his coat and wrapped it around Lily's shoulders as he carried her things upstairs.


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Natalia relaxed as Damien stood with her and started walking. Much better. She smiled and curled her arm around his, taking a look around as they went. Typical airport noise. There were more televisions on that they passed, all broadcasting the same story, but Damien did not seem to be paying them any attention at all. Now that she had gotten him away from that idiot, he seemed more focused on her and the other people instead of the news. It wasn't until they approached a group of small bars that their steps stopped. She glanced in one just long enough to see that the television was set on some sports station. Safe. She smiled and looked back up at Damien, nodding.

"A drink, yes. Small? Debatable," she laughed, walking inside with him and taking a seat at the bar. Quite a few people were inside, but they were nicely spread out and seemed involved in their own small travel groups. Hopefully that meant nobody would intervene. Natalia glanced at the selection along the wall behind the bar. No Ballentine's, but that was to be expected. She considered the fact that they were going to be boarding another long flight soon, then simply ordered a Long Island Iced Tea.

"So, are you excited? Russia and all that," she asked, looking over at her beloved and gently nudging his arm.

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Lily occupied herself by listening to everything that she could as she waited for Jackson. The perk of being right next to the front door was that there was no shortage of things going on. First she heard an older man come through, the sharp rapping of his cane on the floor marking his passage as he muttered to himself about how much he hated the damned hospital. A minute later, a frantic woman came in, asking everybody if they had seen her father come by. That made Lily smile. The poor woman clearly had a hard time keeping up with her grouchy parent. Several nurses passed by, usually in groups of two or three while discussing some issue or another. They seemed quite busy.

The door whooshed open again and Lily listened, wondering who would be next. To her surprise, she heard a voice that seemed familiar. It was male speaking quietly, then going silent as though he had hung up a phone or something. The footsteps faded away right before another set approached and she heard Jackson speaking to somebody else. On the phone, most likely. Who had that other voice been? It seemed so familiar. Nobody from the club and not her parents. Hm. She mentally shrugged it off and smiled as Jackson wrapped his coat around her, hiding most of her inappropriate attire.

"That would be nice," she agreed, taking his hand and following his lead over to the hotel. It was connected to the hospital so it wasn't a terribly long walk. Soon she was going upstairs with him, her free hand on the railing for balance. It got easier as she went along, but she did stumble once. Soon they were at the door and she listened as Jackson opened it with the key card.

"Thank you, Jackson. You're really very sweet," Lily murmured after stepping inside with him.
 
"A pint of bitter, please."

The atmosphere of J.D. Weatherspoon's achieved the miraculous feat of not feeling like an airport bar while being a bar in an airport. Well, technically, it he establishment was not a bar, but a "pub". Damien could sense the difference the moment he and Natalia stepped inside. The bartender Placed their drinks on decorative napkins adorned with the Union Jack. "Start a tab, please?" Damien asked. He led Natalia to a table along a wall, away from the bustle of thirsty travellers. Suitcases and personal, carry-on luggage crowded the little space below each table, making the seated customers appear blockaded in for the duration.

Damien reached out and slid his hand over Natalia's, happy at the smile that would certainly warm her beautiful face. The encounter at the couch was now a distant memory, and he had Natalia to thank. Damien considered how, despite he tried to compose himsel, there were certain types of people and situations that piqued his anger, and dialed it to n extreme. He became much more angry with the dick at the oasis than he should have. Then, a notion came to mind.

Damien found himself (for lack of a better term) "feeling" the vagaries of life about him. It wasn't long ago that Damien's purpose in life was driven by select, very restricted criteria. Attending to his mother dying of cancer, being one. His mother had always wanted to visit England, and talked of seeing the sights and meeting the people she had heard so much about. Damien secretly planned to bring her on a tour of the British Isles when his own tour of duty had concluded. The effects of that war, the nervous, crippling vein of weakness that he tried to hide, was part what Damien accepted in that pub. He felt a passive pleasure in simply existing that as foreign as he was in Heathrow. Natalia was a catalyst in his transformation to normalcy, and thought her divine.

Damien cracked a crooked grin and pushed the table away from the wall, careful not to spill their beverages. Damien reached down with a mischievous grin, grabbed one on the metal legs upon which Natalia sat, and pulled her chair to be right next to his. He prepared himself for whatever abashed look Natalia gave, but stifled it with a very loving kiss. He then took her in an unusually long hug. There was strength in his arms that came from his heart. When he reluctantly released, he leaned back, satisfied.

"I'm excited, but also nervous. New places are hard for me, unless I'm strapped in a cockpit. I'd like to see if Russians are as drunk and crazed as everyone says. I'm really looking forward to doing everything with you, though."

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Jackson cleared away every obstacle that could even remotely present a problem for Lily. He swung the door wide, and led her into the room, placing her things on a low table that served as a desk. Jackson placed the flowers near the window where they could soak up some sunshine. Jackson was by no means a gardener, but often helped his mama cultivate the tiny urban garden in the backyard of their New Jersey home. She always urged him to remember living things needed water, food, and sunlight. Jackson pondered how people were not so different.

The hotel room's thermostat was set against the early October chill, and the air had a arid filtered quality, the moisture having been mechanically sucked out. Still, the room was perfumed with that signature hotel "scent". Whether the smell was part of the cleaning process or introduced intentionally using artificial means, it carried the impression of cleanliness regardless of the actual hygiene of the room.

Lily was gently led by the hand to the plush bed, where Jackson let her by the arm before setting her down. The queen-sized was covered with a white duvet. Though the color was lost on Lily, the soft feel of Egyptian cotton felt wonderfully soft under the hand. Jackson quickly inspected the bathroom to verify that it was ADA accessible before returning to Lily. He searched her expressions, looking for a hint of approval.

"Well, what do ya think of your new room?"
 
Natalia took her seat and relaxed. This was much better. More people meant less focus on individuals or even pairs. They were not standing out and Damien wasn't focused on anybody that was causing issues. She smiled to herself and picked up her glass, taking a sip of the delicious concoction. Bliss. Even an airport couldn't fuck up alcohol. She set the glass back down, then tilted her head in surprise as Damien started moving the table. Now what? She opened her mouth to ask what in the world he was thinking, but all that came out was a startled squeak when she found herself sliding over to his side.

"Oh!" she laughed, giving him an accusing look for less than a second before his lips found hers. She returned the affectionate gesture happily, then tucked her head against his chest as he hugged her. It was not a brief embrace, but she didn't mind at all. If anything she welcomed it. This was easier than cuddling on a plane. She leaned back when he did, staying snug against his side as she looked over at him.

"Well, the stereotypes exist for a reason," she pointed out, grinning. "We have vodka in juice boxes with straws. Perfect for kids on the go. As for crazed, well.. There is a reason it isn't exactly a hopping tourist destination, so I suppose that answers your own question. It is beautiful though.. well, parts of it. I don't know if you'll like it. Perhaps you will. I never wanted to go back," she added, looking away.

Hopefully the pain was not as obvious in her voice as she thought it was. Going back to Russia was terribly difficult. Even now she was getting more and more fidgety, longing for the sweet release of a needle. It was so tempting. Finding a dealer around a place like this would be easy if she tried, even given the time limit. But she wouldn't do that to Damien. She couldn't. It took almost everything she had to just sit still and think about other things, like how fascinating her glass looked. Anything to keep her mind focused.

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Lily couldn't help but smile as Jackson took care of everything. Her bag was put away and the vase taken from her hands with utmost care. She could hear the soft thud as it was placed down, most likely near a window, she assumed. There was a rustling of plastic that reminded her of a trash bag - a trash can to be precise, being pushed out of the way just on the off chance it was in her path. She heard another thud, this time of her bag being set down. He was like an overly nervous nanny, but instead of being annoyed or feeling suffocated, Lily was touched. His care was obvious.

She followed his guidance, allowing him to show her to the bed, where she carefully sat down. It was soft and she was half tempted to just throw herself back on it like a child to see if it poofed up around her as she suspected it would. There would be time enough for that later.. when Jackson wasn't standing there to witness her silliness.

"I think it's beautiful. The nicest room I've ever seen," she said with a straight face, then she laughed a bit. "Well, I mean, I assume it is. It feels fine. The bed is soft, and that's all I really care about right now," she admitted, shrugging a little. She pulled off his jacket and set it next to her on the bed, then held a hand out toward what she thought was where he was still standing.

"Sit with me?"
 
The shadow that swept over Natalia was evident in her face, and the slightly erratic movements of her eyes. They were searching eyes, and Damien sensed what they searched for. He pulled her close to distract her, planting another kiss on her lips, then her neck until she giggled. Damien knew his distractions were superficial, but it was all he could offer at that point. Natalia's drug addiction was the 500lb. elephant in the room that Damien pretended was miraculously behind them and permanently suppressed by virtue of their love. But, such thinking was naive. In part, Damien felt one of his roles in accompanying Natalia to Russia was to keep her as clean as possible, and not make disastrous decisions while alone. Even if it was her home country, she professed not having any family or friends.

Loneliness. It was the one condition that Damien knew was a straight path to addiction and relapse. Natalia sought isolation because of self-loathing, fear, and regret. Damien knew his influence in her life was a positive one, but more was needed to bring Natalia out of the drifting fog that passed as her existence. She needed a community of people who would not mock her for being clean, or question why she was "pretending" to be something other than a worthless whore. Damien sighed in self-control, hoping to never meet such people or he would break their teeth on the concrete. Damien's eyes furrowed forward in thought, then relaxed as he took a sip of the British beer. There was an option, but Damien was unsure how Natalia would take it. There was no way to know other than to ask.

"So, something has been pokin' at my mind the last few days." Damien looked at Natalia with an uncertain expression. "Talia, I ... have you ever thought about attending church services?"

........................................................​

Jackson created a crater when he lowered himself onto the bed, and saw Lily lean with the shift in plane. Lily almost giggled at the unsteadiness, and Jackson's strong arm swept around her backside as she slid into him. Her body felt warm against his, even against the heat that the air handler was kicking out. Jackson lowered his lips and pressed them against Lily's head. He wanted this simple gesture to convey how much he cared for her. Renting a hotel room to ensconce her from abusive parents was certainly another gesture, but there was something about the intimacy of a kiss that was irreplaceable. And in truth, Jackson had been wanting to be physically closer to Lily since they were "caught" by the nurse that morning. It could have spelled the end of Jackson's career as a security officer, but there was a residual thrill that had settled in his stomach and loins. Jackson was a man unaccustomed to the sunshine life had to offer, and rarely felt the blossom of joy when something sought after had been achieved. Not so suggest that Jackson "acquired" Lily, but Jackson was a staunch, God-fearing man --- he believed that things happened for a reason, whether it was to test or reward or to punish, the Lord's hand was at work in his life.

The future destiny God had in store was but a distant possibility, and Jackson tried to revel in the now. Lily was blind, likely for the rest of her life. Further, she was haunted by violently uncaring parents and a homicidal drug-dealer. Being stowed away in the hotel room offered Lily the sweet taste of safe anonymity. The room was checked out in Jackson's name, and there was no way for her to be traced. She was safe, and alone with him. A tingling migrated from his tummy and spread warm; he smiled chuckling and euphoric. He straightened contentedly at Lily looking up at him with blank eyes. "It's nothing." Jackson looked at the clock on the digital cable box. It read 12:56pm. He did not want to leave, but took solace in the fact that today was Friday.

"Sweetie, I need to get back to my shift. Is there anything I can do for you before I go?" His lips parted in silent hope.
 
Natalia turned her attention to Damien as he tugged her closer against his side, his distraction working.. to a point. Yes, it did get her mind off drugs, but only for a moment. No sooner had she giggled at his silly affections than she started wondering just how easy it would be to down a bottle of anything in the bathroom. She curled her fingers around Damien's in an attempt to keep herself focused. His hands were always warm and firm. Hers were now a bit shaky and cold. She frowned slightly and looked down at her pale fingers, then looked back up at her lover as he started speaking.

"Church?" she repeated, her expression incredulous as she stared at him to see if he was serious. Once she realized that he was, she laughed a little.

"Damien, honey, I am not exactly welcomed by the good church-going folk of New York City. Not only do I dress like a slut, but I also tend to carry illegal narcotics on my person. They frown on that. I don't think they would be overjoyed by the fact that I've.. done just about anything you can think of to get my hands on a bag or a syringe either," she explained, shaking her head and trying not to dwell on just how far she had gone before.

"If there was some sort of god sitting on a cloud up there, I think I would know by now. We're all alone on this rock, spinning alone in space. No amount of kneeling and singing is going to change that."

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The smile on Lily's lips was instant when Jackson sat down. She tried to keep to one side, but his weight made her poof up before tilting toward him. Gravity proved more stubborn than she was and she ended up sliding against him before Jackson's arm curled around her. Despite the movement being unintentional, she enjoyed the comfortable hold and the sweet gesture of his kiss. If only those lips of his were a bit lower. Oh well. She cuddled against his side, content to stay quiet until she both felt and heard him laughing. Her head tilted up with a confused expression, but he was already telling her it was nothing before she could properly ask. Well then.

You could start kissing me again like you did in the hospital..

No, Lily couldn't bring herself to say it. She did want to, but it was not really her style. In the hospital, she had initiated a kiss, but that was.. different, somehow. She wasn't sure what Jackson was thinking and didn't want to make anything awkward. Plus, it would not be nice to make him late to work when he had been kind enough to put her in the room. If Natalia was there, she would have been smacking Lily for not just straddling Jackson like she owned him and ravaging him with her lips until he was stripping her naked.

Maybe that would come later.

"I think I'm okay. You've already done everything I could possibly ask for, and more," she said, smiling up at him as she mentally judged his position and the distance of his face from hers based on his voice. "I don't know how I'll ever repay you, Jackson. You really are a sweetheart. Thank you," she added, laying a hand on his thigh that was next to hers. Her fingers were rather high, teasingly so. Of course, she would never admit that it was on purpose. Just a happy accident that she would never intend to cause anything. She was an innocent angel, after all.
 
The notion was ludicrous in virtually every way. Natalia would certainly be noticed by the conservative parishioners and judged as less than worthy. But, that was assuming many variables that were not constants. Natalia chose her class of dress, and certainly did not look like a slut at Damien's side. She dressed that way because of her job, which was pushed into the past. So then, Damien thought, why shouldn't her bad influences and associations. Raised Lutheran in a cripplingly rural church in South Dakota, Damien was witness to the wide variety of folks who attended services. A large part of that phenomena was the church itself, and what message and doctrine they promoted. Could it be as simple as finding the right mixture of people and beliefs?

"I'm not so sure, because if that's true," Damien muttered with a wry smile, "why were you praying at Lily's bedside when I met you at the hospital?" Damien's finger skirted the billows of her shirt and playfully flicked Natalia's rosary necklace in subtle punctuation. He glanced at the large-faced clock on the wall above the bar. Below it was a digital clock with military time that gleamed dull green against a black background. "We should probably get back to boarding." Damien pulled back the rest of his bitter, and screwed his face from the astringent liquid. Hopefully, Natalia wouldn't react as acrid from his line of questioning.

.............................................​

Jackson felt abashed at Lily's gratitude. He didn't feel guilty about ulterior motives, of what she had none. Jackson felt an overwhelming compulsion to shelter Lily and see her through. Though he'd be disappointed, he was willing to accept her leaving him once she landed on her feet. He genuinely card for her, and pitied her deplorable state and luck. Of course, Lily was also incredibly attractive, and the chemistry between the two had been brewing since yesterday.

Jackson was about to rise, but twisted his face to give Lily the most gentle of kisses. His lips met hers, and he could feel their fleshiness against his own. They felt parted in surprise, and Jackson indulged in tasting Lily with a lingering love. His hand reached out, and settled on her right side, sliding up with his wrist grazing the edge of her breast. Jackson's breath was heated as he smiled and drew back reluctantly. He whispered in Lily's ear.

"I'll be back soon. Make yourself comfortable." Jackson was opened the door to leave, and said, "And, think about what you want for dinner."
 
For once, Natalia didn't have a snappy answer. Damien was right. She had prayed for Lily and she wore her rosary necklace nearly every day. Of course, he had no way of knowing that the necklace had belonged to her mother and that she had been dragged kicking and screaming to church services as a child. She knew that he had no idea how much she had despised it and how she resented her father for not being forced along. Instead, it had been her mother tugging her along, trying to coax her into enjoying it. It had never clicked. Natalia was not one to just bow down and accept anything, particularly an all-powerful dude in the sky. She looked down at her necklace, pondering in silence. All of her life choices so far had been terrible. Maybe there were other things she was wrong about too.

"Hm?" she murmured distractedly, glancing at the clock. He was right, they were starting to run out of time. She tossed back her drink with a single swallow and stood up, feeling a familiar twist in the pit of her belly. Honestly she had been hoping to try this whole sober thing without getting sick, but she wasn't going to have luck with that. It was time to either find a bathroom and puke up everything between her throat and hips, or grab a pack of cigarettes and see if that settled her down. A long shot, but still a shot. She took Damien's hand as he stood, her other hand fidgeting with the hem of her shirt in rapid little movements.

"Can we stop at one of the shops first? I need a pack of cigs before I get back on a plane," she said, glancing up at him for just a moment before looking away with a twinge of shame. She hated how she had to try and avoid the reality of her condition from him, but she wanted to protect him from the truth. He knew about the drugs and he knew that she was an addict, but she still didn't think he fully grasped what that meant. If she could shelter him from it even just for another day.. Maybe she could keep him from ever finding out just how bad it really was.

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Lily expected Jackson to get up and leave, but she was not about to complain when she felt his lips find hers again. She immediately started kissing him back, her body leaning in to his as both hands moved to hold on to him. If she had it her way, he wouldn't go back to work at all. Too soon he was pulling back, promising to return and mentioning dinner. She nodded and smiled, biting her tongue to keep from informing him that all she really wanted for dinner was for him to come back and keep kissing her for another hour or ten. That would be nice.

Being alone in a hotel room is supposed to be a relaxing thing. At least, that's what Lily assumed. There was nowhere that she had to be, nobody that she had to speak to or entertain. There was no pressure to dance or dazzle at her job, no friends getting themselves into awful situations, no stress. Even her family wasn't around. The fact of the matter was that she found herself getting bored very quickly. To keep herself focused, she got up and began exploring the room. She counted the number of steps from the sides of the bed to the walls, then to the bathroom. Her hands became her eyes, taking mental record of where the television was and how far the shower was from the toilet and sink. She memorized the location of the lamp and the phone, her fingers running over the numbers. At least it wasn't a touch screen, so she could still use it if she had to.

But who was she supposed to call? Room service?

After about half an hour, she picked up the remote and poked at random buttons until she got the television set turned on. She managed to find the channel buttons, scanning through until she heard Sesame Street. Elmo was laughing, explaining to Big Bird that he had a new friend. Those were voices she would know anywhere. She smiled and set the remote aside on the bed, relaxing against the pillows and soon falling into a light nap.
 
The look on Natalia's face conveyed more than a thousand words, along with her body language. A sympathetic feeling grew in Damien's stomach when Natalia asked for cigarettes, and he reflected just how different, yet similar their life paths were. Damien's Dark Knight comic was still tucked away in his travel bag under the seat on the plane; he needed a distraction, just like Natalia. Damien led Natalia to the bar, where he tossed an American bill on the counter, then brought her outside. Her body movements came jerked and erratic, and he scanned the terminal. Damien wrapped his arm around Natalia's waist and gently kissed her cheek and spoke with a most tender love. "Come on, Baby. Let's take care of you."

Damien had frequented airports more than Natalia, and racked his brain to recall where cigarettes could be found. The polished travel shops stopped selling cigarettes during his first deployment. Damien did not smoke himself, but his crew mates and other pilots all lamented the inconvenience. Damien deemed their outcry childish, considering cigarettes of varied type could be easily purchased at the on-base commissary. There was always Duty-Free, but Damien didn't feel like buying a truckload of cigs in a bulky box just for one or two. He'd heard that cigarettes were available on planes for sale, but had to be smoked upon arrival; Natalia needed something right then. They walked away from their gate for a minute when Damien spotted what he was looking for. Along the opposite side of the concourse was a small shop with dark, wooden walls. A glass door shielded it from the sterile air of the terminal, and a slight, tobacco-scented whoosh blew back some of Natalia loose strands. The owner looked eager, but bored behind a counter of rich, lacquered rosewood with jars of leaf and cigars behind him. "Whatcha, Mate?" he asked.

"Hey friend," Damien began.

"Ah! A Yank ... haven't seen too many Americans these days."

"Yeah, we're an uptight bunch, and don't get out enough. So listen," Damien said, "any chance I can roll some cigs for my lady?"

The man eyed Natalia, caught a glimpse of her fierce grey eyes that looked pained and distracted. The shop owner nodded slightly to himself, in unspoken understanding.

"Yeah," he said quietly, "sure mate. Just keep it tidy." He brought up some paper and a box of filters, then brought a jar labeled BULLDOG DELUXE. The owner sat back and watched Damien spread the papers out in even rows and embark on an assembly line, pinching the rolled tobacco along the line of the paper. He placed the filter and rolled his creation, then he licked one edge, cynching the cigarette into a tight cylinder. He handed it to Natalia. "Mind if we light up in here?" Damien asked. The owner smiled, "Only if you roll me one."

.........................................................................​

Lily is busy sleeping, and Jackson is busy protecting stuff.
 
What an odd thing, to be so consumed by need when surrounded by ordinary people. It was entirely different in New York City. Back there, you could be standing in a crowd waiting for a crosswalk signal and have a businessman on your left chattering into your cell phone while a drug dealer stood on your right with a handgun tucked into his pants. It was simply the fabric of the city. In an airport, however, everybody seemed clean. People who could not afford a ticket were not around. Everybody had a destination and moved with purpose. Natalia was now in stark contrast, her eyes never settling in one spot. If not for Damien's hold around her waist, she would have been wandering off in circles just looking for a place to settle.

She followed his guidance, focusing on walking in a straight line. The tiles that passed by under her feet were nice and straight, which helped her to focus on not puking all over the place. She didn't look up until Damien's steps paused. Hm. The shop looked darker than what she expected. Classier? She hesitated, momentarily distracted by thoughts of cost, but Damien eased her inside and she soon fell into step behind him.

The first thing she noticed was that the shop smelled pleasant. She glanced around, crossing her arms so that she could fidget with her sleeves out of sight. Her inspection of the decor ended when she heard Damien mention her. She looked toward the shop owner, then quickly looked away. There was a knowing look in his eyes that she disliked immensely. She frowned, keeping close to Damien and accepting the first cigarette he handed to her. Even if the shop keeper had said no, she probably would have lit it anyway.

Instant relief.

She slowly exhaled, watching the white smoke absently as it curled up toward the ceiling. It was not as good as what she could get from a handful of pills or a loaded syringe, but it was something. Her body welcomed it immediately and she started to relax, though she was still a bit fidgety.
 
"Damien ..." Natalia's lover held out his hand to the tobacco shop proprietor, who took his hand firmly. "Peter. Nice to meet you, Guv'nah," he said.

Damien watched the round-face clock against the wall. It was ten minutes until boarding, and they still had to negotiate the throng of air travelers with Natalia in withdrawal. "How much we owe you?" Damaien asked.

"Eh ... Pound'n half?" The proprietor responded as if he wasn't entirely sure, or if he did, the exactitude of the few rolled cigarettes was beneath him. The look on his face displayed raw amusement; he apparently had never seen an American Western-style cigarette rolling before.

Damien nodded and forked over three American dollar bills. "Close enough," Damien said. His command of currency exchange values was not stellar, but he knew the conversion placed 1.5 Pounds Sterling around two and a half dollars. Damien scooped up the other cigarettes he rolled, nodding to the proprietor. "Thank ya, kindly."

His arm was around Natalia's waist as they departed the tobacco shop. He loved her, so very much. He wanted to help her, and knew this was a way to stem the tide of her addiction until they reached somewhere familiar. Well, familiar for Natalia, at least. Damien held the cigarette for Natalia as they walked, fending off snarky looks from officious, air-quality snots. He gave it to her whenever she needed a drag, and lit a second one after the first expired to ash.

When they reached their gate, Damien took the spent cigarettes into the men's bathroom and extinguished them under the faucet. Once he disposed of them in the waste, he joined Natalia as their boarding class was announced for boarding.
 
Peter.

An ordinary name for an ordinary man. Natalia cast her eyes around the shop, thinking about the last man named Peter that she had known. He had been an incredibly wealthy business man in the city. One of those faces you would see in the paper because he was building another skyscraper or donating another million dollars to charity. A face the city loved, but that wasn't how she knew him. No, Peter was a regular at the Kitty Club. Apparently his marriage to his wife was a political move that escalated his worth by a solid amount. She didn't even know the woman's name - Peter had made it a firm point not to mention it. All Natalia knew was that the woman had been unable to bear a child. Peter had seemed rather angry about the whole thing. Poor woman.

Natalia took another long drag from the rolled cigarette in her fingers, blowing a smoke ring as Damien paid. She glanced at the clock, realizing they were running behind if they wanted to be at the gate early. Her fault. She frowned a bit and looked to her lover, but he didn't seem that upset about it. Instead, he just scooped up the cigs and took her waist again as if everything was normal and fine. How did she end up with such a gentleman? She leaned against him slightly as they walked, ignoring the clammy feeling starting to crawl along her skin.

"What are you looking at?" she snapped at a passing redheaded woman who gave her a dirty look for smoking. The woman said nothing, only hurrying off. Natalia shifted uncomfortably and took another drag. Her temper was dwindling. This was not going to be a fun flight. If only she could put herself to sleep instead of enduring it all. She was as likely to behave as a cranky toddler at the moment. The second cigarette was in her hand before she could even get upset about the first one being gone. Damien was far too good to her. She leaned against the wall, waiting for him. Once he was back out, she moved into line with him.

As she expected, things did not improve once they were seated. She was by the window this time, but claustrophobia was not the cause of her distress, so it didn't really help. The entire time that people were shuffling by them and arranging bags overhead and complaining about people being in the wrong seats, she was on edge. Her fingers worked at the hem of her shirt so much that it was starting to fray in a small spot from her fidgeting. She was thankful that Damien was on the aisle side, because when a passing flight attendant leaned in with a too-sweet smile to ask him if he needed anything before take-off, she nearly punched the woman right between the eyes.

If she could reach, she would.
 
It was not difficult to notice Natalia's hands, as they conducted a campaign of insatiable clawing at her clothes. The poor woman, Danien thought. He knew she was without her stimulus, and pondered how he could help her. It was during such musings that the flight attendant stopped by Damien's seat. She hadn't stopped to speak with any of the other passengers, and she suppressed a demure smile when she spoke to Damien. He looked at her face, her red lips, brown hair, and sharp hazel eyes. Damien sensed the eager hope in her voice to attract, even a glimmer, of Damien's attention. When the attendant asked if there was anything she could do, Damien laid his hand upon Natalia's leg, speaking: "my love here isn't feeling well. Pillows and blankets would be very nice." Damien caught the glint of evil in Natalia's gaze. Though somewhat impaired from withdrawal, Natalia was as territorial as ever.

The fire dampened in the attendant's eyes, but her smile was professional, and remained long after the heartbreak. It wasn't Damien business to guess the inner workings of other women's hearts. He concerned himself with the heart of only one woman. His woman, the Russian he loved enough to roll cigarettes for. The attendants' smile was manufactured, and though Natalia did not smile often, he knew it was real and heart-felt when it revealed itself from behind clouds of gray. Damien longed to have sex with Natalia then, if only to distract the physical pain she was engulfed by.

The attendant handed Damien the blankets and pillow, still smiling hopefully. "Please let me know if there's anything else I can get for you." Damien briefly shook him head, laying his hand possessively upon Natalia's thigh. "I'll be fine, thank you.
 
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