She hadn't seen him in a couple of months. This wasn't unusual, the last few years had been an odd emotional truce, and, in some ways, they had been working on their friendship and how to interact in the 'after' of a turbulent few years. She was working out of Chicago these days, managing the railworks from the hub of Chicago. He was...well doing whatever it was that Chapel did whenever he disappeared for a few days. He had been unofficially rehired by the Archon, which meant he was probably getting into trouble without her.
He had come into her garage just as she was finishing up for the night. Late, about two in the morning. For this time of year, it was late. Sunset came earlier, and she did her best to use every inch of darkness, The rush of cold air came in when he nudged open the door, and he took a seat on her stool, watching her as she polished down the inside of her Chevy.
He had given her that car, years ago, and she had always been careful with it. She had changed the oil, rotated the tires, then cleaned up, before grabbing a duster rag. When the door opened, she glanced over her shoulder and her blue eyes flashed with amusement, but a real smile crossed her lips.
"Nah 'ere comes trouble." She drawled in her musical southern accent, which made her sound disarming and sweet- even when she was in a temper. But she sounded like she was in a good enough mood, and he didn't hesitate in dropping down onto the stool that she used for paperwork.
A smirk crossed his lips, his sunglasses hiding his eyes. His leather coat creaked a bit, the heavy boots he wore hooking on one of the rungs of the stool. He watched her intently. "Trouble? I have no idea what you are talking about, Jas." His voice was nearly a growl, and the sunglasses hid what he was looking at, usually. Jas laughed, crouching down to climb into the car, on all fours as she wiped down the dash. "Sure yah don'. When yah'll git back inta town? Lemme guess, yah missed m'." She said with playful amusement. She wished he had missed her. Because no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't get him out of her mind. And she had tried. Nearly ten years since they had met, and she hadn't been able to push him out of her thoughts since then.
Chapel let his smirk grow almost lazily. "Yep. That and I had a week off. Figured you'd take that long to work on my truck." His voice was so serious it was always hard to tell when he was joking, Jas frowned, "Dat peice o'shit?!" she looked over at him, looking disgusted at first, then seeing his smirk, gave him a wry smirk back. "Yeah ah su-pose ah could fit in inta mah schedule. Gotta be awful nice t'me, yah ken?" Her smirk shifted to an impish grin. Sometimes flirting with him came as natural as breathing. The last year had freed them up to tease and laugh again, which had been nice. And she had been so careful not to cross a line and make him leave again. So it had never gone much further than that. So she shook her head and picked up the rag going back to polishing the inside of the '58.
At her words, Chapel stood up and shrugged out of his coat. His eyes were drawn to her jean-covered ass. It was hard not to. They were ripped here and there, and there was this distracting tear just under her ass. The cheek was bare, but he well knew she wore thongs as a rule- usually something lacy. Despite having worked with her hands for the two hundred plus years she had been alive, Jas liked the feminine feel of satin and lace. He walked over and rested his arm on the top of the car, taking off his sunglasses, and looking down at her as she worked. Despite the cold, she was wearing a light-colored tank top- one that was probably a color at some point, but had faded from so many washings- that showed off her tattoos on her skin that always looked just a little sun touched. The Tyger Tyger poem on her shoulder, a motorcycle right above her ass, which he could see when she reached out and the tank top rode up, and many others. Her auburn hair slid away from her neck, showing off the thick scar that started at the base of her neck, where she had asked him to cut away the Celtic tattoos that had marked her as owned by another. The sight of the scar still made a flash of anger at the Gangrel he had eviscerated and made him want to protect her, and even, if he could admit it, taste her skin and run his tongue down the texture of the scar to her ass...he blinked, that had been a rather, surprising train of thought. He cleared his throat, grinning down at her. "Nice? What do you want a treat?" Humor threaded his voice.
Jas paused in her wiping of the leather. He had moved closer to watch her, which wasn't surprising. Then she shook her head with a light laugh. "Yah ken how ah do love me some good chocolate...could take m'up tah dat shop ah like in de towah" She drawled with amusement, finishing up with the wiping.
He drummed his fingers on the top of the car and shook his head. "Nope. I was thinking something more..." He saw her finish up and bent down enough to snag her hips and pull her backward. Despite being a very strong woman, she had never been a match for his strength. His hands circled her waist, his fingers slipping under her shirt. Her skin was surprisingly warm against his cooler hands, and he pulled her back against his body "...physical." He buried his face in her mass of silky curls, the last word muffled but near her ear, so she could understand him perfectly. Her hair smelled like orange blossoms, light and not overpowering, just like he remembered.
She would admit that the touch had startled her. It had been getting better, but there had still been this physical distance. As if they both knew that if they touched- really touched- they wouldn't be able to stop touching. She didn't struggle though, feeling his strength against her back, his hard body, and the touch of his hands as he circled her waist under her shirt. He could feel her shudder with delight at that simple touch. She shifted her head, so her hair moved off her neck, sliding away, exposing the long line of her skin. "Well darlin'," She said softly, "Yah ken how physical ah kin be..." Her hand slid over his hand around her waist, her short nails dragging over his arm.
