Amanda, Jake: Saturday Night and Sunday Morning

[xp_daytripper]

Amanda meets up with Jake in the pub as agreed, but there's surprises in store for both of them...




The pub was grotty, nasty and possibly even seedy, and Amanda drank the atmosphere in like water in the desert. Which it was, in a way - it had been a full week since her last drink, and even longer since her last decent English beer. She snagged herself a pint, and a seat, and sat down to wait for Jake, who apparently was supposed to meet her here. Odd place for him to pick, but Amanda didn't have any qualms about it.

"Fuck off," Jake said absently to the woman who tried to take the free seat next to him at the bar. He was waiting for Amanda, yes, but also finishing up a business deal which the bartender was in on, so he'd rather they had as much privacy as possible. The woman gave a gasp at the insult, but the bartender glared, and she left, muttering unflatteringly about them as she did. "The Mengo brothers?" Jake sighed. "Yeah, yeah, okay, the Mengo brothers, if that's best you can do."

"Oi!" Amanda barely rescued her pint from spillage as a woman shoved past her, bumping her elbow. "Bitch," she added, matter-of-factly as the woman continued on her way without apology or a second glance. With a frown she scanned the pub again, looking for Jake - you'd think in his extremely noticeable female shape he'd stick out a mile, but there was no sign. A rather attractive man at the bar, however, did catch her eye.

Tall-ish, dark hair, fashionably dishevelled. Nice broad shoulders and a slender build. Not bad at all. Looking at him, Amanda was reminded that alcohol wasn't the only vice she'd had to give up for the course of the last three weeks. He glanced briefly over the crowd, not seeing her in her corner, and the bright blue eyes and smart-arse smirk decided her. She edged out from behind her table, scooping up her bag and made her way through the crowd towards the bar and the empty seat beside him.

"Best I can do on such short notice," the bartender - Michael Bones - said apologetically.

Jake pressed his lips together unhappily. Granted, the Mengo brothers would probably pull it off, but Jake'd rather it had been someone else. He'd been on jobs with them before, and it was a little like taking part in a very bad Laurel and Hardy flick. With big ass guns.

"Come here often, mate?" Amanda asked as she squirmed under the man's protective elbow and onto the stool beside him. She ignored the glare the bartender gave her. "I ain't seen you before."

"Girly, that seat--" Bones began, but Jake waved him off, having recognised the voice. Amanda had finally arrived. He turned his head and smiled at her. She looked good. Still more piercings than Jake could be bothered to count, still the rather ill advised hair dye, but she definitely looked better than she had when she'd left.

Then her words penetrated, and he grinned. Why, Amanda... He thought for a moment, then moved some cells in his throat, makin his voice sound a little like Pete's. "Hey, you. Looked lost and bewildered, did I?"

"A little," she said, smiling and letting her knee drift a little over to his direction. "Buy me a drink?"

It was the voice that had done it, she decided. She had to admit, there was something about it that was familiar and something of a turn-on...

"Naturally, since you were so nice to rescue me from my lonesomeness," Jake nodded, unable to suppress the mirth that made his eyes glint. "What would you prefer?"

"I know what me preference is, but I'll start with a pint of Old Speckled Hen, if yer'd be so kind," she said, winking at him. She polished off the pint she'd already had and set the glass in front of the barman. "'M Amanda. Not Mandy, Amanda. And you are?"

Jake inclined his head towards Bones, who was looking mildly disapproving, which amused him even further. He fully intended to tell Amanda who he was (eventually) but in the mean time, this was too much fun to cut too short... "Stuart Jones. I'm here on business... and maybe a little pleasure."

"Nice t' see a man who appreciates that all work an' no play makes for a fuckin' borin' life." Amanda let her knee drift a little closer, until it was just brushing his. "So, Mr Jones, what kind of pleasure were you considerin'?"

"Oh, I had no plans. I was just going wait and see if something turned up," Jake grinned crookedly, moving his knee slightly, so it pressed against Amanda's more firmly. "And do call me Stuart. Mr Jones makes me look around for my father."

She smiled at him again, the smile that she'd discovered always turned men's brains to mush, and ran her finger around the top of the pint Bones had begrudgingly set in front of her. "So, Stuart, has somethin' turned up?"

Trying to play _me_, is she, the little vixen? And it's working too, which is really sad... Jake shifted in a way that was painfully obvious. "Oh, I rather think something have." Pete was going to kill him. Slowly. Painfully.

Got him. Amanda allowed herself a small smirk and leaned towards him, twisting slightly so that she could face him at bit more directly. The fact that the movement required her to put one elbow on the back of her stool, drawing his eyes to the lines of her breasts had nothing to do with it, oh no... "It has, has it, Stuart? It was fortunate, then, that I came over her t' rescue you from yer lonely an' friendless state. How about you take me away from all this an' we can see just how friendly we can be?"

It was possibly not her most subtle pull, but dammit, it had been a while. And this bloke was doing serious things to her head with that voice of his...

He was tempted. Very tempted, but she was bound to find out eventually, and Jake wasn't keen on turning into a frog again, especially since he'd finally managed to get his own shape back. He got in one final ogle at her breasts, which made certain parts of him quite happy, then reluctantly stopped manipulating his throat and looked into her eyes. "Well, I am here to whisk you away... Hey." he waggled the fingers on the hand he used for his beer. "Jake here. Couldn't resist."

"Fuck. Bloody fucking buggery damn shit and pants!" Amanda said with feeling, turning crimson and jerking back away from him so fast she nearly fell off the stool. "You fuckin' bastard. You were playin' me," she said accusingly.

Jake laughed out loud, tilting his head back momentarily. This was better than he'd hoped for. And pants, indeed. "And you were hitting on me. Understandable, as I am gorgeous, but," he eyed her. "Huh. Pete, huh? Didn't see that one coming."

If anything, the blush intensified. Marie-Ange would have been impressed. She muttered some very bad words in ancient Greek and took a restorative mouthful of her beer. "I blame the crap lightin' in here," she said, grumpily. "An' if you even breathe a word t' Pete about that, I'll... I'll..." She seemed stuck for a threat dire enough, and then gave him an evil grin. "I'll tell him you had it bad for me. Don't deny it, I seen you squirming around on yer seat there."

"I did not!" Jake protested automatically. He remembered his beer and finished it off, visions of pissed off Pete appearing infront of him. There was little Pete could do that would permanently injure, but Jake wasn't willing to bet on in. The British could be very inventive when they wanted to. "Yeah, yeah, okay. I won't say a word." He gave his empty glass a mournful look, which Bones took as a sign to fill it up again. "I need to get laid," he sighed, mostly to himself.

"Tell me about it," Amanda agreed, echoing his sigh. "You'd think in a friggin' mystical commune they'd be about the tantric rituals an' all that shite, but no, Pete an' Rom have t' pick the fuckin' healthy lifestyle fringe. No beer, an' no sex."

"Hah. Try a year as a fucking _woman_, and then we'll talk." He paused, glancing over at her. "Or as a man, for you, I suppose. You'd think lesbians, right? But, no. It's just too fucking weird."

"A year? Yer poor bastard." Amanda was looking at him with genuine sympathy - the thought of that long without sex was not a pleasant one for her either. "I gotta say, you won't have t' wait long, not lookin' like that. That yer actual face?"

"Yeah, it is." Jake was surprised by the compliment and oddly warmed. Compliments on his shapes didn't mean much, other than as a 'work well done', but this was his real shape, so that made it different. Of course he knew he wasn't down right ugly, but it had been a long while since anyone had even seen him. Besides, the sympathy was gratifying. "I don't really have the time, though, which sucks, believe me. We're booked on the early flight."

She reached over and patted his hand sympathetically. "An' whilst I wouldn't give a shite if you decided t' bring back a bird t' the hotel room, she might." She gave the hand a squeeze, for good measure. "Sorry t' cramp yer style, Jake."

He gave her a wry look, moving his leg slightly. "I wouldn't even have thought about it, except you... Well."

"Well, there you were, looking all tasty, an' I couldn't help meself. You didn't have t' react quite so much - I wouldn't have come ont' you so much if you hadn't been leadin' me on," protested Amanda, laughing. "I ain't a bleedin' saint, not even after three weeks in the magic convent."

"How was I supposed to know you'd be such a temptress?" Jake grinned. He didn't mind, much. It was frustrating, yeah, but also a familiar signal, unlike the signals the female body had given him. "Hey, you've finished your beer," he noted, and looked up, trying to catch Bones' attention again.

"Fuck, so I have." She waited for the new pint to appear - Bones was still scowling at her - and sighed happily as she took the first sip. "Beer. Real beer," she said. "With texture. An' an alcohol content. Not like that piss they call beer in the States. Chuck in some food an' I think we're even for the night."

Jake brightened. "Oooh. _Room service_. And my expense account is turned back on..."

"An' we're sittin' here in this dive?" She looked at him incredulously. "Are you nuts?"

"I had some business to..." Jake tried. Amanda's look didn't change. He could see her point. This was food they were talking about, after all. Food that could be brought to them. And paid by Infonet. Also known in some circles as 'heaven'. "Yes, I am insane. I don't know what I was thinking. Um. Let's go?"

She was already half way through her pint as he reached the inevitable conclusion, and held up her hand. "Just a sec," she said, and downed the rest. Putting the glass down, she wrinkled her nose. "I hate t' do that t' a good pint, but there's an expense account t' be abused here." She slid off the stool, staggering ever-so-slightly as two rapidly drunk pints (counting the one she'd downed when she'd first approached 'Stuart Jones') hit her system.

Jake followed suit, waving vaguely at Bones -- who definitely looked disapproving now -- before putting his arm around Amanda's shoulders, half for his support, half for hers, and picking up her bag in his other hand. "Onwards, dear girl, to the food! For our mission is clear, and we must brave the streets, the vile, bloody -- I should shut up now, shouldn't I?"

"Perhaps you should," she said, giggling. "Lay on, McDuff."

* * *

"Okay, I'm dead. Gotta be. This has t' be an afterlife of some sort," sighed Amanda happily. She was lying on her back on the bed, the debris of what could only be called a food orgy spread around her. Her head was resting on Jake's stretched out legs - the shapeshifter had his back resting against the bedhead, propped against several pillows, and was finishing a glass of rather passable red wine.

Jake had completely stopped manipulating his system by now and was getting more than a little buzzed. He was utterly comfortable and at peace with the world. He reached down with his free hand to pat Amanda's hair briefly. "Oh absolutely. I'm sure it's mentioned in Solomon's songs somewhere or other. Also, grapes, please."

Without raising her head to look (since that would involve actual moving, and she was far too comfortable for that) Amanda reached over and felt over various plates and bowls for the grapes. She found them, but also found the remnants of Jake's mudcake. "Ick," she said mildly, passing the grapes over her head to Jake. "Got a napkin? I'm all over chocolate." She waggled chocolatey fingers at him as he took the fruit from her.

Chocolate. Hee. Jake glanced down at the grapes ponderingly, then over at the chocolate covered fingers. Hmm. He placed the grapes on his stomach, then, grinning mischievously, grabbed her wrist, holding it fast as he bent his head over it. "No napkin, awful waste of perfectly good chocolate, that is."

She giggled drunkenly, half-wondering what it was he was up to, and then felt him suck the chocolate off the first finger. It occurred to her that whilst it was simply a preservation of good chocolate to Jake, that wasn't what it felt like. But she wasn't about to tell him he was turning her on - he'd stop, and then there'd be awkwardness and weirdness and a perfectly good evening ruined. Besides, she didn't particularly want him to stop.

Giving a long, slim finger a final lick to make sure he got it all, Jake tilted his head back. He wasn't unaffected by what he was doing, but had been too set on getting all the chocolate to bother noticing. Now however... He released her wrist suddenly, absently picking up the grapes again.

She chuckled and reached for her cigarettes with her released hand. Here was a man after her own priorities. Always the food first. He glanced down at the laugh, eyebrow raised. "You wouldn't be laughing at me, would you?" he asked.

"Never," she told him solemnly, but with an amused glint in her eyes. "Do I get any of those?"

Jake tilted his head in consideration, munching on a grape. "What'd you do for 'em?" he said finally, grinning.

"An' what makes you think I just can't up an' take 'em?" she said with a wicked grin, pushing herself fully upright and pulling her legs up. Before Jake could react, she'd straddled his legs and grabbed one wrist - the hand with the grapes - in a surprisingly strong but not-superhumanly so hand. The other was reaching down the other side of them, where she remembered fuzzily there was a small bowl of whipped cream that Jake had dumped most of over his dessert. Ah, there it was... She scooped up a lump with her finger and smeared it across his face, taking advantage of the momentary shock to grab the grapes from his hand and pop one in her mouth.

"My grapes!" Jake wailed pitifully, then remembered the cream. It was cool and heavy on his face and he moved his hand up scoop some of it up. His other hand was still clasped around the wineglass, which was near empty. He kept his gaze on Amanda as he licked the cream off his finger. She seemed to like the grapes, he noted.

"You..." she said, letting go of his wrist to poke him in the chest. "Are a wimp. Not bad-looking," she added, after a moment's thought. "But still a wimp."

"I'm hurt and insulted," Jake said solemnly, before grinning wickedly. He dropped the wineglass on the bed, staining the sheet, and sat up, quickly grabbing her by the waist and tipping her over into the bed, reversing their positions. "Let's see... Now where's that cream again..." He felt around and failed to find it, instead coming across the cake again

She struggled, admittedly not that hard or effectively, against his weight and the hand he was using to pin both wrists together and to the bed, as he scooped up the remainder of the chocolate and smeared it down her nose before reclaiming the grapes and releasing her hands. She pulled a face as he smirked at her and reached for something to wipe it off. With a horrified expression, Jake grabbed her wrist again.

"You can't do that! Not to the chocolate!" he exclaimed, and leant down to repeat what he'd done earlier to her fingers, licking the chocolate off her nose. Or so he meant to - he got distracted by the way she tilted her face up once he'd gotten the bulk of it off so his lips met hers instead. Her free hand came up to caress along his jaw and slide into his hair as the kiss deepened, and he instinctively he pressed his body downwards against hers. It had indeed been too fucking long.

"We can't… that is, you shouldn't…" he managed as they broke apart. Amanda's face, inches away from his, was slightly flushed, and her breathing had quickened. The combination of the sight of her, those full lips slightly parted with a hint of a wicked smile, eyes bright with lust, the feel of her beneath him, quite a bit of red wine… He put the grapes down, cupped her face in his hand with his thumb running along her cheekbone, and leant down for another kiss.

***

Morning. His watch, from somewhere too far away to grab and hurl at the wall, beeping merrily. A nice, soft, warm body curled into his, and a girl's voice making sleepy protesting noises at the racket the watch was making. A nice, soft, warm, naked body.

Pete was going to kill him.

As the thought hit, Jake's eyes jerked open, and took in the full extent of the situation. There was indeed a naked Amanda in his bed, with him, also naked. She was curled into a rather cute, kittenish ball, with her tousled head tucked beneath his chin. The room was a mess, food and clothing and bedding strewn everywhere. There was chocolate smeared on Amanda's exposed shoulder, and a general feeling of stickiness that only comes from having various substances poured or smeared onto you and then licked off.

"Pete's going to kill me," he repeated, out loud this time.

"Why? What'd you do?" came Amanda's sleepy response. She snuggled closer into his chest, grabbing his hand and pulling it against her stomach.

"I would have thought it was obvious what I'd done. You," Jake replied, his fingers automatically stroking the oddly-ridged surface of her skin.

"He won't know 'less you tell him. 'Cause I ain't." Amanda kept her eyes closed, trying to keep up the imitation of sleep as long as possible. She swatted vaguely at his hand. "That tickles."

"I won't have to tell him. He'll know. He has great and terrible powers of knowing, and when he finds out, he'll kill me. A lot." Jake tried to keep the appropriate note of seriousness in his voice, but Amanda did feel so very nice against him (which was resulting in interesting reactions), and he was intrigued by the strange patterns he could feel under his fingers. He brushed his lips against her shoulder blade, and realised they were there too. "He'll kill me in horrible, painful… Amanda, what is this? On your back?" His voice wasn't horrified or repulsed or concerned, merely curious, which was why she didn't react negatively to his asking. Besides, she was entirely too comfortable and sleepy to be defensive.

"Bloke who brought me up did it. Some ritual or other," she said. "Cut into me with a bone knife when I was eleven."

"He sounds like a total bastard. Can I kill him?" Jake asked absently, shifting back a little so he could see the scars more clearly. He retrieved his hand, and ran his fingers over some of the writing and then over the pentagram etched onto the space between her shoulder blades. "What does it say?"

"Get in line behind Rom an' Pete an'… wot?" Amanda sounded surprised. "Um, dunno. Can't see me back well enough t' read it, an' the stuff on me front… well, it goes backwards in the mirror, don't it?"

"You could get someone to take photos. So you could translate it, I mean. At least then you'd know what it was he'd put on you." Jake ran his fingertips along the writing again. "Could be important."

"I s'pose…" Amanda said, thoughtfully. The idea of reading the scars had never occurred to her before. Then, as Jake's hand ran down her back and continued further to regions of smooth, unmarked skin, she asked, against her better judgement: "That alarm of yours… Was that important? Do we have t' go now?"

His lips brushed against the back of her neck. "Probably." She shivered at the sensation, sliding back against him again, and he grinned, nipping her shoulder. "Plane."

"Bollocks," she said, reaching back with the arm she wasn't lying on to stroke his hip and down his leg. "Can we catch a later one?"

"Later," he agreed, moving up her neck to her ear, teasing it with his lips. "Good idea. Fun first, then plane."

"An' what about Pete?" she asked, grinning wickedly as she rolled over to face him.

"He can find his own fun," Jake replied.