Work Text:
Malapert
The decibels in the club reached levels that scientists wrote papers about. The thump of the bass could be seen in the surface ripple of her martini. Despite that, Shaundi looked bored as she stabbed at an olive which escaped after its initial impalement on her cocktail skewer. The green orb held her attention more fully than the man standing next to her. Off and on he leaned toward her, speaking loudly into her ear as she gave him absolutely no sign of interest.
A flashy movement on the other side of the bar made her laugh. Pierce heels his arms wide, showing off his suit as a woman ran her hand down his back. Cinq, on the other hand, just leaned closer and brushed a curl behind a woman’s ear. Even from the other side of the bar, it was obvious, her blush bloomed up her neck as the boss leaned toward her ear. Shaundi just laughed. Pierce always griped that his cousin could be smooth as silk when he wanted to be; something Shaundi figured out early on. Tonight it seemed stop be working in Washington's favor.
From the looks of the situation, the boss was going to win their standing bat. Shaundi sighed when her attention shifted to the chatty man to her left. His chest bumped her shoulder as he swayed drunkenly. The flash of her measuring glare stayed on him for a moment before she tipped the cup a little to try for a better angle on the olive rolling about in the bottom of her glass. Her maneuvering worked. Capturing the olive, Shaundi bit it off the end of the skewer just as Mr.-Hasn’t-Got-a-Clue rambled too loudly about the watered down drinks this club sold. He had been going opinion about it for awhile, oblivious to her disinterest in him or his diatribe. Then he suggested she come back to his place for a real night cap. When she felt his hand on her rear, Shaundi flung the contents of her martini glass into the rude bastard’s face.
After he stumbled away, she set the glass back on the bar, sucking a bit of the concoction off her knuckle. “Another?” the bartender asked with a laugh she could see in his sage-green eyes more than hear over the music.
"Please."
He returned her nod and moved to make her another drink. At least, I got my olive , she reasoned as she looked up, eyes scanning the club before returning to where the boss had been. She fully expecting to see one or both of the women the boss and Pierce were talking to leaning toward them in that way women did. Maybe even playing up their low necked tops as they traced their fingertips along their collars to accentuate their bust lines. She rolled her eyes at the very thought of it, not that she did not use the exact same moves when it suited her.
Cinq would be hell to put up with for a week if he managed to find someone to take home while she chose not to, even so, the place really was devoid of anyone that struck her fancy that night. Shaundi also knew she would deserve it. She would chide him relentlessly if the situation were reversed. Not finding the boss, or Pierce, she leaned forward looking down the bar to see if they wound up in one of the booths on the back wall. The Saint sat back. It was better not to find him; she was certain that if he saw what just happened he would be in full-on gloat mode. The bored search for her friends left her ignoring the ruckus growing behind her.
So the hand on her shoulder came as a complete shock, but not more so than the dripping, angry scowl that met her when she turned toward the touch. They say these things came in threes, which held true in this instance. The word “bitch” barely crossed the soaked man’s lips before a big hand gripped his collar and another connected with his jaw. Cinq shook his hand once and let go of the man as he collapsed. The boss leaned down and said something she could not hear over the music.
Shaundi just blinked at Cinq for a moment. They both knew she was more than capable of handling that situation on her own, but she also did not mind the boss stepping in. It was his way. Anyone in the club wearing Saints colors could have expected the same kind of intervention. Cinq did not say anything either, just leaned on the bar next to her and laid a $50 bill on the bar.
“Make it two,” he told the bartender, holding up two fingers. Then turning a sly grin on Shaundi. He would not ask about it, even if he was curious.
Shaundi grinned up at him and leaned on the bar, arms folded in front of her. “What happened?” she asked with nod in the direction of where he had been earlier.
“Her dog didn’t like me.”
“What? She took you—”
He was already shaking his head. “Nope. Damn bobble-eyed mutt was in her bag. Looked like a furry little crackhead.”
“Tell me you didn’t say that.”
The shrug told the story—he had indeed said just that.
“Oh damn, boss.” Shaundi dropped her forehead into her hand dramatically.“I bet Pierce was pissed.”
“Nah. Damn thing love him.”
Shaundi choked back the start of her laughter.
“Besides I said it without thinking,” he told her. When his drink arrived he took the olives out of his glass and deposited them into hers.
“Obviously.” Shaundi looked up and just watched as the glass touched his lips then emptied, completely. She shook her again.
“Yeah, well, it was the truth. Ugly, tiny, troll dog,” Cinq mumbled loud enough for her to hear.
Shaundi laughed brightly.
“The creepy thing chirped at me,” he explained as another martini was placed near his elbow. He gave the bartender a nod and pushed the bill toward him, making a small gesture to tell him the boss was not expecting change. Again he removed the stick with the olives from his glass, this time he held it out to Shaundi.
She took it and pulled one off with her teeth. “Guess he didn’t think much of your moves.”
“Lies. I got moves for days,” he countered after a sip, leaning toward her with a hint of a growl in his voice. It was a fact Shaundi knew well. The pair of them regularly wagered on nights like this, betting on who might go home with the most numbers or with a date. “How about you?” the boss added, folding his arms and leaning on the bar. He only glanced behind him for a moment before turning those big, beautiful eyes back on her.
Shaundi wrinkled her nose. “Slim pickings tonight.”
“I thought you said you could always find … entertainment.”
“Well, tonight you’re the best looking motherfucker in here,” Shaundi said, mimicking the way she thought he would say it.
Cinq smirked. “I could have told you that.”
His shoulders shook gently as he lifted his glass again. Shaundi joined in when he spilled a bit on his forearm after she bumped his shoulder with her own.
“You’re an ass.”
“You say that like it’s news.”
Shaundi gave him a crooked grin. “Only to people who don’t know you.”
Cinq glanced over at her, smiling, as he wiped a napkin over his skin. There was a question in the look; one Shaundi knew well enough. Then his brow rose just a smidgen as the backs of his fingertips grazed her elbow. It was an unspoken invitation; a truce to their usual challenge. Neither of them could lose the bet if they left together. Her observation had been completely accurate, he really was the prettiest man in the room and the only one that really captured her interest that night.
Shaundi did not even think about the fact that it was happening more and more often. She just took a quick swig from her glass and nicked another olive before hopping off her bar stool. Cinq polished off his second martini, much like he had the first. When his warm hand came to rest on the small of her back, Shaundi strutted, oblivious to the crush of bodies as she allowed the boss to lead her out of the packed, noisy club.