fanfic-downunder-requests

[fanfic-downunder-requests]

Laced with Fire Part One

They say that, when threatened, people go into a state of fight, flight or freeze. My philosophy is far simpler. Fight. Fight for yourself, because when it comes down to it, if you don't fight, you're admitting defeat. If I was going down, it would be kicking and giving the one finger salute the whole way. 

The bar was crowded when I arrived. The regular flies hanging around, soaked in the putrid smell of beer and cigarettes, the perfume of which somehow brought with it a feeling of nostalgia. It felt like home. "Lacey, over here," a vaguely familiar male voice drawled. I turned to face the owner of the voice, plastering a sickly sweet smile on my face and leaning forward slightly to show off a touch more cleavage. When it came to securing free drinks and food, I was an old hand out of necessity. Money was in a constant state of short supply, acquired mostly through hustling pool. The job market was scarce, and to be honest, I wasn't really cut out for the restrictions that holding any form of steady employment would entail. You can't cage a free spirit. 

Heading towards the voice, I found myself surrounded by a small group of men I vaguely recognised. "Hey boys,' I smiled, flicking my mane over my shoulder and blowing a kiss. All I needed was for one of them to pay enough attention to finance my evening. A little flirting was all it took. It wasn't long before a beer appeared in front of me. It was like shooting fish in a barrel. A smile, a gentle caress on their arm, and they were like putty to be molded. 

As the evening wore on, the thundering noise began to die away. Stragglers that had been clinging on for a desperate few minutes of my time had begun to depart. It was time to see if I could strangle anything more out of the last remaining saps. I pulled a pool cue from the rack and eyed the table doubtfully, aiming for a look of innocence. The one downside to never paying my male suitors enough attention was that I was never really sure which men I had hustled before. The gimmick would only work once. 

“Shall we play?” I asked innocently, finger to my lip as if I was contemplating the complexities of the game. I leaned over the table, holding the cue at such an angle so as to highlight my cleavage, and pouted. “If one of you would be so nice as to help a lass learn the game,” I sighed. “Yeah…yeah we can do that.” One of my hopefuls smiled and came up behind me, leaning over to correct my posture. I smiled thankfully, repulsed by his touch, but it was all part of the ruse. “So I just…like…hit the ball into one of them side things that look kind of like pockets?” I asked, waving my cue inexpertly towards a pocket. The men cast each other a quick look before they mansplained how to play. The drone appeared to go on and on, but I had already perfected the resting face of interest and intrigue, while letting my mind wander to other, more important things.

“Ohhhh! I think I’ve got it!” I smiled. “Care to make the evening a little more interesting?” I fished around my bra strap, searching for the few bucks I kept there for such an occasion, and laid them on the table. Doubling the money would still be a win but I had set my sights higher. It was a careful balance. Playing with enough ineptitude to encourage their confidence, but to allow a win when needed, then a simple flirt, maybe a kiss on the cheek. Enough to keep them coming back for more. By the end of the evening, I had secured enough money to purchase a bottle of whiskey and still have some left for food. “Thanks boys,” I smiled, gave a little wave and departed. 

Exiting the warmth of the bar, a sudden chill fell over me. I pulled the leather jacket I wore tighter around my revealing top. Lacing my keys through my fingers, I began the torturous walk home. I may have been a fighter, but self preservation ruled. Avoiding confrontation was key to making it to safety without winding up dead in a gutter. 

The dim yellow from the street lights caused shadows that leapt and danced as I moved. Then, the sound of a twig crunching under a shoe, crystal clear in the stillness of the night. 'Shit,' I thought to myself as I picked up my pace. 

"Hey, you alright there lass?" A voice murmured, somehow gentle despite my heightened senses. I paused, gripping my keys tighter, prepared to fight to the death if needed. Then, he stepped from the shadows into the halo of pale, yellow light, hands up in front of his body, a signal meaning no harm.