A Fine Pair

Danielle Goldstein

Feedback: Danii
Sponsered by: Bigbucks
Fandom: Original Short Story (i think)
Rating: PG
Summary: A young girl waiting in a bar is intrigued by a handsome young man...but both turn out to be not what they seem...

Part 1

This is not my sort of place, I thought. I don't exactly know what my sort of place is; however, I'm guessing that hot chocolate and a large quantity of books would be involved in my sort of place, but, I thought as I looked around, it was unlikely that I would find someone who found my kind of place as their kind of place. Because I was here, in this place. A rattrap.

I'm not exactly sure what brought me here. Maybe it was because I was lonely. Maybe because all my friends say they go to bars all the time, and claim to have a great time. Or maybe it was because this was the only spot without a line, not to mention the lack of a check at the door. Technically, I wasn't supposed to be allowed in a bar, but I look a lot older than I am and I act a bit older as well. If I've learned anything, it's that if you don't look like a nervous teenager trying to get into a bar, they won't think you are one.

But why I stayed? I don't really know. Probably because I'm a bit stubborn. I got in here intending to have a fine night out, and I was staying till I got one, despite the fact that the moment I got in, I was swamped by at least four sleazy jerks who regarded me as fresh meat. I was staying, hoping against hope that someone decent would stop at my table. Yup, stubborn and naïve, the greatest combination for trouble there ever was. Not that I couldn't get tough and deal with it. A few pointed looks, a few direct comments. I've found that solves most things. It got rid of the first ones pretty quick. The only problem was that they kept coming. In fact, I could see another heading my way at that moment.

He wasn't anything special, not particularly handsome or interesting. His hair was deep brown, almost black, and slicked back like most of the other losers in this joint. I kept from wrinkling my nose, but I could smell the cheap cologne from here. He was tall and thin, but obviously muscled underneath the cheap suit from what I could see. His face was that of a predator, one with which I was familiar, and possessed what would be considered classic good looks, except for his nose, which appeared to have been broken at least twice. His eyes, which were a deep shade of green, were the feature I liked most. For some reason, they were the only things that looked honest on him. I didn't get to see anymore because he was getting close, and at that point, I tried to duck my head and hide behind my hair. It didn't work.

"Hello, sweetheart" he said in a sickly sweet, and above all, fake voice, "Whatcha doing in a place like this?"

"Trying to avoid people like you..." I answered. I will admit I wasn't exactly friendly, but to be perfectly honest, I had a good reason to be a bit rude.

"Aw, why would you be doin' that?" He asked with a grin. The jerk then proceeded to take the seat across the table from me. What nerve. I didn't even let my mind wander towards the things I ought to do to this reject. He wouldn't survive at least three of them.

"Because I'm sick of being hit on by cheap losers..." I grumbled. Again, not winning any competitions for Mrs. Cordiality, but considering the night I'd had, it was better then it could be.

His eyebrows went up at the statement. He didn't look surprised at the insult, though he probably got it later in the conversation most times. What can I say? I'm very blunt. It saves time, not to mention aggravation.

"So it seems you think I'm a cheap loser?" He asked; he was brave, I'll admit. He tried to move aside my hair to see my face as he said it, and most people run when I use the tone I was using on him.

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