Title: Only The Lonely
Chapter Title: Beautiful Girl
Author: Restive Nature
Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Dark Angel. They belong to Cameron/ Eglee. No infringement is intended and this fiction is for private enjoyment only.
Rating: NC-17
Genre: Fan Fiction
Type: Romance, Humor
Pairing: Max/ Alec
Summary: A remake of the "Pretty Woman" movie, with Max and Alec in the lead roles.
Spoilers/ Time line: This takes place pre-series. Due to the nature of the fiction, some information will be different, but should not overly affect the fiction.
Feedback: Always welcome!
Distribution: Ask first please.
Chapter Two
Beautiful Girl
"A party?" Max repeated, her thoughts tumbling. "What kind-?" she began to ask, but realized that Alexander had already explained. High class. One he would have needed Ramon's escort's for. Yeah, she could do that, but...
"I mean, you said your friend," there was emphasis place on that and she wasn't sure why, but Max dismissed it for the moment, "was training you." 494 pursed his lips thoughtfully. This would be an easy solution to a FUBAR'd mess. "Look, it wouldn't be that difficult," he continued, seeing and sensing her hesitation. "Just meet and greet some people, have a few drinks, maybe a few dances. Think you could handle it?"
Max waved that concern away. "It's not that," she chuckled. "I can definitely handle that. No, I was just thinking how much I'd charge." Her face grew thoughtful again.
"I don't suppose you know Carlton's scale?" 494 grunted. Crap, how much was this gonna cost?
"Tell you what," Max finally decided with a nod. "My goin' rate's a hundred for the night. Throw in the dress I'll," she glanced down at herself, looking amused, "obviously need, shoes and stuff, your treat and I'm in. Easy money. What d'ya say?"
494 rapidly thought it over. Just one night and then he could pretend that she had been called home for a family emergency. Yeah, that'd work. Introduce her to Jonas and he was in. "I say, do you know where you can pick up those threads?" The slang rolled easily off his tongue. Manticore knew, he'd had enough practice in Common Verbal class.
Max nodded. "Actually, just down the street is Tiente's," she pointed and 494 started up the Mercedes again. He pulled into the street as she continued talking. "That's who Ramon uses. And they're usually opened late, for last minute emergencies."
"Emergencies?" 494 laughed. "What about clothes could be an emergency?"
"Things you wouldn't believe," Max tittered as she pointed out the shop she was talking about, well down the street and on the opposite side. 494 deftly maneuvered the car around and parked not ten steps away from the dress shop, relieved to see that indeed, true to the hooker's word, there were people inside. Max had already climbed out of the car and was striding confidently towards the main door. She paused once to wait for him. Realizing that he was needed to pay, 494 quickly retrieved his wallet, stuffed with the credit cards that Manticore had seen to and, locking the Mercedes and setting the alarm, followed after her.
It was a strange world he walked into. Again, like at his hotel, the Centrium too, almost like the Pulse had never happened. Soft background music was playing, every item in the building, from the clothes and other merchandise right down to the carpeting was looking brand new or extremely well cared for. There was even the scent of perfume in the air, tickling at 494's nose. He let the door swing shut behind him as he followed Max as she made her way to an older lady that 494 judged to be in her mid to late forties.
Max let out a soft, "Marjorie?" and the woman immediately swung around, a huge smile lighting up her face.
"Maxine," the woman, more gray in her hair than the soft brown it had obviously been, greeted enthusiastically as she stepped forward to embrace the girl. 494 was a bit surprised. As far as he had seen in the outside world, classes weren't that close. Or perhaps Max was one of those hookers and this Marjorie had been a client as well. Well, whatever the situation, 494 was glad for it. "So what brings you to my establishment this evening?"
Still with one of the woman's arms around her shoulders, Max turned and gestured to 494. "This is Alexander Spalding," she introduced and 494 straightened up, employing the smile that had seemed ingrained since his birth, designed to flatter, charm and seduce all at once. But the old broad it seemed was a woman of the world when all she did was tinkle a laugh at his little ploy. "He was heading over to Ramon's, but he didn't know about the fire."
"Oh dear," Marjorie sighed, her hand sliding down Max's back and then around and away until she held it out to 494. "I'm sure that was a bit of a shock."
494 took the proferred hand and deftly turned it and raised it to his lips, brushing a soft, dry kiss across her knuckles. Laughter tinkled again and her hand squeezed his back lightly. "It was," 494 agreed. "But luckily, Maxine," he stressed the name, arching an eyebrow at Max, who merely rolled her eyes, "agreed to help me out this evening."
"And you'll find no one better," Marjorie declared immediately. 494 was by that point, a shrewd judge of character and not at all surprised to find the woman's brown eyes calculating, sizing them up. "So, what services can I provide? Whose 'do' are we doing?"
Max, unsure, only knowing that it was a high society party, gave a tiny shrug, deciding to let Alexander field that one. Easily sliding his hands into his pockets, completely at ease with his current surrounding's, 494 gave the woman the information she needed. "Cale Enterprises. They're celebrating the business' twenty-fifth anniversary. Jonas Cale's wife Mar-!"
"Margo Cale," Marjorie broke in, nodding, even as she snapped her fingers at one of her employees to get her attention. "She's taking her turn hosting tonight at the Centrium Hotel. Big ballroom, although she would have liked to book the whole hotel for her own amusement." 494 smothered a grin. That did seem like the kind of thing Margo Cale would have wanted. But before he could say any more, Marjorie was already throwing out instructions to the girl. "Sandra, set seventeen please. And tell Jeannie that I'll want something up. And Marianne needs page sixty-four." She turned back to the couple. "This will be a rental, I presume?" She glanced between them but 494 wasn't quite following. But Max nodded.
"What the hell would I do with it tomorrow?" she chuckled, absently fingering a midnight blue dress.
"Sell it back to me for rent money," Marjorie tinkled again and then reached to take the girl's hand. "Not that one dear. Queen Tina was in last week drooling over it. Didn't fit her hips."
"So?" was Max's defiant reply.
"They don't call her Queen because of royal blood my dear," Marjorie sighed. "One glance at you looking drop dead gorgeous in what she couldn't have and it would be off with your head. And her whole entourage will be in force tonight." Heaving a bored sigh tinged with disappointment, Max let the material fall from her fingers and Marjorie gave her an encouraging smile. "Now, let me get everything together and I'll be right back. Mr. Spalding, how do you take your coffee?"
494 straightened up once more. "Black, please." He was only minutely startled, but then realized that he'd have to do something while he waited for the hooker to get changed. He waited until the woman set off and was out of earshot before turning to Max. "Boy, she sure knows whats the what, huh?"
Max shrugged one shoulder, her attention still lingering over the dress. "It's her job to know sugar. She probably knows better than Margo Cale does, who exactly is at this party tonight. And two minutes after it ends, she'll have all the gossip. Whose mad at who. Whose sleeping with who. You know, the down and dirty fun stuff."
He couldn't help it. 494 laughed. "Probably," he agreed and then cut off conversation as the girl Sandra returned with a steaming mug of coffee for him as well as a plate of finger sandwiches that she placed on a tiny table next to an overstuffed easy chair.
"There's some reading material here sir," she instructed and 494 could see the fairly wide choice of magazines. "And Max, if you'll follow me, magic time!"
Sharing an amused glance with one another, the pair did as they were bid, Max following after the sweet shop girl and 494 taking a seat to sip coffee and thumb through magazines, wondering how long this was going to take and what excuse would cover that amount of time.
494 wasn't interested in the magazines, but he dutifully thumbed through one of the more general ones. Thankfully they weren't all female and fashion oriented. The shop must have had a fair number of disgruntled husbands and or boyfriends cooling their heels if they also thoughtfully provided this little service. And he had to admit it was fairly nice as his free hand strayed absently to the plate of niceties that they had given him. Lifting a spiraled confection to his lips and biting down, several flavors popped in his mouth and he almost let out a sigh of contentment. He really could get used to this life. But the dry realistic voice that wreaked havoc in his mind at moments like this, reminded him that it was all pretend. Though, he did have several more days of it, before it was back to the real world.
Thinking on that, he glanced down at his expensive designer watch that had been furbished for the mission. One that he'd have to return when done, or account for if lost or broken and realized that almost twenty minutes had passed since Max, or as he probably should take the hint from Marjorie and call her Maxine, had disappeared through the curtained partition into the back. Still flicking absently through the magazine, he paid no attention to the articles as he thought over what he was going to tell Jonas about being so late with his girl. Of course, what Maxine had said about clothing emergencies might work. It would also set her up as the flighty socialite he would need her to be and help her fit right in with the other wives and girlfriends.
At that moment, 494 had combed through his mind and was indeed grateful that he had never spoken the name of his said girlfriend. Always referring to her obliquely. Manticore had provided what cover their operative would be using when she finally showed up, Denise. But seeing the girl he had chosen, Max, 494 felt that there was no way that she could pull that off. It just... didn't suit her. Not like Max did. He smiled at his thoughts then. He was waxing philosophical about names when in truth it didn't matter. He would introduce her as Maxine and because she was being paid for it, she'd go along with whatever he said. It was then that 494 realized that he hadn't called his team to let them know this new development. He straightened up in his seat, dropping the magazine back to the coffee table and reaching for his cell phone.
Knowing that he would probably be heard in the shop and knowing that maintaining cover was tantamount to success in this mission, 494 decided to head outside, only to be met by the girl, Sandra.
"Everything all right sir?" she asked softly and deferentially. 494 smiled and held up the phone.
"Business call," he explained shortly. She nodded and stepped out of his way.
"Of course," she simpered back at him. "I'll just top up your coffee for you then."
It wasn't necessary, but he didn't care. He just needed to get somewhere a little more private. And to that end, he climbed back into the car. There he knew things would be okay. And it was there that he realized that he had several messages waiting for him on the phone. He swore softly, forgetting that he had turned it off. He hadn't needed anyone calling and hassling him while he was out on this side mission. He ran through several frantic messages from 511 and dialed the number of the hotel they were stationed out of.
"Finally!" his unit mate growled as he answered his phone. "Where the hell have you been sir!"
"Fixin' Manticore's screw up," 494 answered cheekily, grinning widely.
"So you know?" 511 sighed. "Sorry man. I tried calling ahead to let them know you'd be in and what you needed, but all I got was a recording that due to a fire they were temporarily out of service. And then I tried tracking down the owner to see what we could set up, but he was unavailable-!"
494 decided to cut through the rant. "Hey, it's handled man. Don't worry."
"When it comes to you I always worry," 511 shot back. "What did you do?" 494 could hear the accusation and yet at the same time admiration that the problem would be handled.
"Actually," 494 drawled, glancing in towards the shop. He didn't see movement in the front yet. So he could talk still. "Well, I found a girl that Carlton apparently has been training.
"But she's not one of his girls yet, huh?" 511 could read between the lines of what his friend was saying better than any other. "How come?"
"Money," 494 responded tightly.
"Huh?"
"Well, she's a..." he paused, wondering what his mission minded friend would think of his solution. But hell, better to just get it over with. "She's a hooker." There was a moment of silence and then a hoot of laughter.
"Now's definitely not the time for that 494," 511 admonished. "And I do seem to remember a cocky sixteen year old bragging that he'd never have need of procuring those services, hmm?"
"Oh shut the hell up," 494 growled. "That's not the service I hired her for. She's playing her role tonight and then she'll get called home for a family emergency." 511 laughed even as he thought it over.
"That's workable," he finally decided. "You said that Carlton was training her?"
"Or so she says," 494 sighed, checking once again if the girl was ready. "Guess she doesn't have enough money to buy all the equipment to go with the job and she's hooking to make the rent."
"Hey, it's a large life out there," 511 replied softly. "Can't blame a girl for doin' what she's gotta do. Not everyone gets a free roof over their head and three squares a day."
"Yeah, we're a lucky bunch," 494 responded dryly. "Anyway, I'm just waiting for her to finish getting ready. And I'm gonna need more cash. I'm footing the bill for tonight. even it it is just a rental."
"You mean Manticore's footing the bill," 511 retorted. "And speaking of, I better report in on the situation and get the official go ahead."
"Think there'll be any problems?" 494 wondered aloud.
"Doubt it," 511 responded cheerfully. "After all, they pride themselves that they taught us all to think outside the box."
"True," 494 conceded. He caught a flicker of movement from the shop window and saw the shop girl gesturing to him. "Anyhow, gotta go. Looks like my date's ready."
"Good luck man," 511 laughed again. "Sounds like you just might need it."
Oh never," 494 blurted out. Without waiting for his second's reply, he pushed the end call button and flipping the phone closed, climbed out of the car. He acknowledged the girl's wave with a quick jerk of his chin. He hurried in the shop, determined to get this evening over with.
"Sorry," the girl apologized as she held the door for him. "Miss Marjorie thought you might be in a hurry and Maxine is ready."
'If she was so ready, then where the hell was she?' 494 wondered to himself. But then, the curtains parted at the back entrance and 494 was barely able to keep his jaw from dropping. One long, slim leg presented itself through a curtain of diaphanous material and then the rest of her appeared, poised, in the doorway. The ice blue gown that the proprietress of the shop had chosen was a startling change from the bright red dress Max had worn previously. And it was not a choice that 494 thought would have looked good with the woman's dark coloring and caramel toned skin, but she pulled it off. He let his eyes roam appreciatively up the package presented before him from the tips of her toes in open toed high heeled sandals to the top of her head, appreciating the curls cascading up and then around to curl down over one bare shoulder. Surprisingly, 494 focused on that shoulder longer than he would have thought. If he'd thought about it, he would have said he was a leg man. Or maybe it was the breasts. Or possibly the ass, Manticore knew he loved well rounded firm globes that jiggled just a little, but he as getting away from what he should have been thinking. Maybe it was because the shoulders were bare, the dress cutting across the line of her body, but providing ample cleavage as it supported her bosom, to close in tightly about her pert waist before falling in a straight line to her ankles. As Max dropped her pose and began to walk towards him, her hands clutching a tiny, delicate matching purse, 494 could see that there was a slit in the dress, ending at mid-thigh, showing a tantalizing morsel of flesh in the form of well muscled, toned leg.
Shaking his head slightly, 494 let a grin settle over his face as Max halted before him, waiting for his approval. He could see the flash of apprehension in her eyes. He held out his left hand to take her right and with a deft movement, spun her in a little circle, appreciating again how well formed she was. He pulled her in close, strangely liking the way she tottered just a little on her high heels, wrapping an arm around her waist to steady her. Her hands cam up to brace herself against his chest and he inhaled the familiar aroma from her skin that had pervaded the entire shop.
"You are going to blow them away," he murmured decisively. "Right?"
She pulled back a moment to gage his seriousness, sensing that he knew she needed a little bolstering right then. And suddenly Max was quite sure that she could do this. She'd been trained to do this. Blend in, fit in, charm and seduce. Manticore had started it and nearly ten years on the mean streets of the world had honed her instincts fr this. "Damn straight," she nodded, the corners of her mouth turning up.
"Good girl," 494 approved. "All right, let me go take care of this." He gestured with his free hand to her ensemble, including the single teardrop diamond pendant she wore around her neck. "Worth every penny by the way, and then we'll get out of here."
Max nodded and was surprised to feel a slight chill surround her when he moved away, mourning the loss of the body heat that had been radiating off of him. But she was distracted when Jeannie, the hairdresser Marjorie employed, brought her a sack containing the rest of her belongings. Not that there was much. Her dress, shoes and oversize bag. Wondering if she should leave it behind, Max knew it would be safe in Tiente's, suddenly decided not to. After all, they would be closing well before their evening was over. And once done with the party, she would need her own things to change back into before heading back home. With a quiet thank you, she took the two bags and carefully made her way to the front where Alexander and Marjorie were finishing up their transaction. Alexander was slipping a credit card back into his wallet before flipping it shut and sliding it into his trousers. Max wondered momentarily if he'd be amenable to being called Alex. The other was a mouthful every time to say, but it was totally his call. Maybe the nickname was for close friends only. Something she certainly wouldn't register as.
Realizing that the pair had turned towards her, finished with their business, both of them smiling indulgently at her
"All right," Marjorie cleared her throat, directing her words to them both. "I'll see you tomorrow and you'll get the deposit on the necklace back, Mr. Spalding"
"If I can't make it," Alexander spoke with a casual air, "we'll just courier it over and you can credit that card back." Marjorie nodded her agreement and turning, Alexander held out his arm to Max. Tucking her arm through his as Ramon had taught her, Max smiled up at him and then threw a glance over her shoulder.
"Thanks for everything Marjorie."
"Not a problem sweetie," Marjorie rejoined immediately. "For you, I was happy to. Have a good evening."
"Oh, we will," Alexander saved her the trouble of responding. He held the door for her to proceed them and as she walked through that portal, Max felt as if she were stepping into a new world. She let the mantle of confidence fall about her shoulders, knowing only that even if she had balked at it in the past, this really was something she'd been born to do. And now she was doing it on her terms. She never once realized that this new confidence had sparked an unexpected admiration from the eyes that followed her every movement.
Chapter Three
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