Paradigm Shift | By : AlexPhoenix Category: Marvel Verse Movies > Avengers, The Views: 4077 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1 |
Disclaimer: I do not own anything in the Marvel/Thor/Avengers universes. The only thing I own is Alex, Ronan, and their actions/thoughts. This is all for fun; not monetary values. |
Chapter 11: A Revealing Visitation
After two changes of clothes, and two bathroom trips each, Loki and I were on our way to the shop. As I'd suspected, it was hotter than Hades outside. Well, not really. It was transitioning into fall, so it was actually a bit cooler than Hades, but it was still pretty damn hot. I was in a light blue tank top, shredded blue jeans, and combat boots. As a general rule, I always wore my combat boots, or some sort of sensible close-toed shoe, just in case I had to start running for my life. The shirt, though it didn't match any of my other clothes, was light and breathable, and made my eyes all that much more vibrant.
I'd given Loki an old pair of Ronan's jeans, which had been cut off at the knees, and another one of Ronan's old shirts. This one was white, breathable, and also fit Loki like it was made for him. I was going to have to thank Ronan for giving me all of his old clothes. Who'd have known that by blowing into down dressed like a man, I'd gain a friend that would give me all his old clothes so I could keep dressing like a man? Not me, that's who.
As we walked, I explained to Loki exactly why I'd become exasperated in the kitchen. He seemed happy with my reasoning, probably because I told him that I wasn't kicking his ass to the curb. I was glad he was happy. I was ready to beat myself about the head and shoulders with a two by four. Why was I so damn nice?! I'd have to ask Ronan that after he got done kicking my ass. He was going to hate my idea more than I did. After a few more mental kicks to my own ass, I shoved all of my current self-loathing to the back of my brain, reserving it for later use.
Once I was sure I wouldn't spew out something about hating myself, I started explaining the town to Loki. When we passed the breakfast cafe, I told him that it had just been rebuilt a year or two before, and that they had amazing pancakes there. When we passed the thrift store, I said that they usually had a really good selection of clothes at incredibly cheap prices, so that was where I'd be getting him his new threads. I pointed out all of the little shops and markets, none of which the black haired magician really acknowledged beyond a curt nod of his head.
About a half an hour and multiple sighs later, we reached the mechanic's shop. I let out one more sigh, this one of relief, because I could finally stop filling the empty space between us with words. I walked in through the garage with Loki on my tail, and was instantly met with my name bouncing off the walls in the form of whoops and hollers. I felt like Norm on Cheers. Manny, a Spanish guy who was almost as big as a semi, rushed forward to scoop me up in arms the size of my body.
Ronan may have been big, but Manny was huge in every sense of the word. I would estimate that Manny was at least 300 pounds, most of it muscle. He was tan enough that he looked like he'd been dipped in mud. His short hair was black, and his eyes were so dark that you could barely tell where the iris ended and the pupil began. His teeth were straight and slightly yellowed from smoking. His facial features were all hard lines, making him look that much more intimidating upon first meeting him. In reality, he was a really big teddy bear. He may have looked for all the world like he was going to draw and quarter you with his bare hands, but in all actuality, he would really only kill you by crushing you to death in one of his hugs.
"Alex!" he cried into my ear. He shoved my face into his chest, like he was a worried mother and I was his recently located child. "You finally made your way back to see the old crew!" And then, speaking of being crushed to death by his hugs, he tightened his grip on me. Pressure started building up behind my eardrums, and I felt like my head was going to pop off. I was half-way certain that he was an anaconda in a past life. He pivoted his upper body in a side to side motion, making me nothing more than a broom as my feet scrapped along the concrete. "Oh!" he exclaimed suddenly, his spine becoming rigid. Still holding me in his kung fu grip, he leaned back with a joyous realization. "You brought a friend!"
"Manny, let her go," another familiar voice ordered, cheerfully. "You're gonna kill her."
"Oh!" Manny exclaimed, finally releasing me from my fleshy bonds. He gave me a sincere, apologetic smile. "Lo siento."
I sucked air into my nearly crushed lungs and shook my head, waving my hand in the air like it was no big deal. It wasn't a big deal, really. I mean, what's a nice chest collapsing bear hug between friends? Once I got enough air in my lungs to function properly again, I motioned a hand toward Loki.
"Manny, this is Loki. Loki, this is a train," I said, motioning between the two men. My voice sounded like I'd been smoking nonstop for the past day and a half. That hug made me raspy. Manny let out a guffaw and slapped my shoulder. The force, along with the unexpected nature of the pat, actually made me stagger a little bit. Air whooshed out of my lungs, much to the dismay of the rest of my body. It seemed that I needed oxygen to live. Who knew?! I righted myself, holding the ground that Manny had almost knocked me off of. That's what I get for being one of the guys: lung debilitating back slaps and insults that would make most women bawl like their tear ducts were a broken dam.
Manny was about an inch and a half taller than Loki, and outweighed him by at least 100 pounds of muscle alone. Manny, overly friendly and well-meaning guy that he is, grabbed Loki's hand and pulled him in for a shoulder bump. Loki, the poor guy, looked a mix if disgusted, shocked, and horrified. Disgusted, I thought, because Manny was covered in grease; shocked, because a stranger was forcing him into an improper hug that he'd probably never done before; horrified, because Manny was three of him rolled into one meat suit. Also, I figured it was because if Loki hadn't wanted to even touch my hand so I could help him up, then I doubted he wanted to be pulled into a shoulder bump with a dirty guy that he didn't know.
Tony, the kind New Yorker with a terribly generic name who'd told Manny to stop killing me, patted the big man on the shoulder. Tony looked at Loki as Manny released the much smaller man, a big grin splitting his tanned face like he was the Italian version of the Cheshire Cat. His teeth were a glistening white, so much so that he looked like he should've been a movie star.
Well, he looked like that anyway. He was like Ronan and Loki; he had the good looks that Hollywood agents actively scouted for. Tony was about five foot eight, with short, floppy brown hair that had been kissed by the sun in the form of light brown highlights. His face was chiseled into an inverted triangle, with a sculpted jaw and high cheekbones. His nose was slightly wide, and smooth. His almond eyes were a beautiful mocha color under the dark line of his eyebrows, with a ring of gold around the outside of his irises. He was tan, his skin color only a shade or two darker than his eyes.
"Sorry about Manny." Tony said, holding out a patient palm, "He doesn't have any concept of personal space. I'm Tony." Loki, much less reluctantly than I'd expected, took Tony's hand and gave it a firm shake.
"I am Loki," my new housemate said. He straightened his spine a little, making himself seem taller. It seemed, to my eyes, that he was trying to be both polite and regal at the same time. Tony was lucky. I'd just gotten the regal part of the deal. Hell, I still kept getting the regal part of it. I was going to have to make a contract for Loki to sign. It would have clauses in there like "No exerting your alien royalty over me" and "If you're a dick, I reserve the right to hit you with a non-lethal weapon of my choice". Yeah, I liked that idea.
"Nice to meet you, Loki," Tony grinned. He pulled his hand out of Loki's grip and slipped it into his back pocket. His body relaxed, one leg crooking out at a comfortable angle. "Well, you're obviously not from around here, so what brings you state-side?"
"Adventure," Loki stated simply. A small smile formed on his lips in response to Tony's large one. The smile was almost instantly crushed when Ronan walked into the garage. He was wearing a white, grease stained tank top, which left little to the imagination when it came to his muscles. His jeans were torn at the knees, and smeared with dirt, grease, and oil. He wiped his hands on a blackened rag, which did nothing to rid the appendages of their grime.
"By adventure he means hang gliding through the desert at night with weird clothes on," Ronan said with a devilish smirk. Oh, this was going to be fun. It was abundantly clear to me now that the two men had most definitely started their relationship on the wrong chord. Well, I'd known that from the almost the moment they'd met; it just sucked worse now that I was awake enough to grasp just how untuned that chord was. I blamed Loki. He had, undoubtedly, been an enormous ass the night before. Blame games aside, telling Ronan that Loki was going to be staying with me, especially after figuring out how much they disliked each other, was not going to be a fun ride.
"Tony. Manny," Ronan called to his employees in a firm tone. The men both stood at attention, making it look like Ronan was a drill sergeant, and they were his private officers. Which was funny, when you thought about it. Manny was bigger and taller than Ronan, and I was pretty sure that Tony could beat both men in a fair fist fight. He was a spry little shit with several years of martial arts under his metaphorical belt.
"Y'all aren't doin' anything, right?" he asked in his authoritative tone. He had his head down as he asked the question, focusing on wiping the mess off of his fingers, and failing at doing so. Then, in a way that reminded me a lot of a mob boss movie villain, he glanced at the two men through his eyebrows, his candy apple green orbs intense through the fine hair of his brows.
"No, sir," the men said in unison. They would make damn good soldiers. Hell, they probably wouldn't need any sort of boot camp training. Ronan ran a tight ship when it came to business. Not to say that he was a mean boss or anything; he was incredibly kind, to the point that his employees were his family. It was just that he was very strict when it came to actually working. He was first and foremost their boss, but he was also their brother. All of this was glaringly apparent when, upon hearing the admission from his men, his head popped up and a smile spread across his features.
"Good!" he beamed. "Then why don't you two take lunch. Maybe Loki can tell you about his adventures in the good ol' US of A while y'all eat." It caught me off guard how easily he dismissed everyone but me. I mean, I'd seen him do it before, but he'd never outright dismissed someone who wasn't one of his employees. I cast a glance at Loki, who seemed just as surprised as I was. Well, he actually seemed surprised and vexed, but still.
"Good idea, boss!" Manny exclaimed. The tree of a man slapped Loki's shoulder, much like he'd done to mine. And, just like with me, the force made Loki stagger a little. Unlike me, Loki gave the taller man a quick glare of irritation before masking it with amusement. Thankfully, I was the only one to catch the daggers that protruded from Loki's eyes, and Manny continued on with his cheerfulness. "C'mon amigo! You have a lot to talk about, I'm sure!"
Loki shot me a glance. It was an inquiry of whether or not he should go with these men of whom he did not know. I gave him a tiny nod, finding it both interesting and mildly cute that he'd actually spared me the quizzical glance. He didn't really seem like the kind of person who would ask for permission first, or who would even think about the perils of going off with some strange people. Of course, the last made him sound like kind of a lunatic. Which was something I wasn’t entirely sure he wasn’t.
With my go ahead, a little bit of the tension leaked from his shoulders, and he transformed into everyone's best pal. The only thing that kept my jaw from breaking through concrete at his sudden change was the fact that I had an iron will. The three walked off, with Loki allowing Tony and Manny to lead him toward the employee break room. Cheerful vibes rolled off of him in waves, permeating the air in the shop with good vibrations. Seeing him like that was a shock to my system. I'd never seen the friendly Loki, let alone watched his attitude turn into a Beach Boys song. And this time the fact that I'd only know him for less than a day had nothing to do with it. He'd quite literally just met the mechanics, and he was already bromancing with them.
"What do you wish to hear about first? The hang gliding incident or the time I went to New York City?" he asked as they walked away. Though I couldn't make out what Tony had enthusiastically replied, I had a pretty good idea that he'd picked the latter. He was always at the forefront of any conversation about his hometown. Of course, he was usually ripping on it, but he was still the first one to chime in when it came to the apple in decay.
"Phoenix is almost ready," Ronan said suddenly, breaking my concentration on the conversation that I could no longer hear. "You'll be able to get Loki out of your hair soon." His eyes were wide, and a little too excited about the prospect of getting Loki out of my house. I didn't blame him. After all, Loki was a dick to him when they'd first met. And, on top of that, he was a stranger from another land. Sure, Ronan had no idea that Loki was possibly a stranger from another world. Honestly, if he had known that, he'd have dropped Loki off at the hospital no matter what time of night it had been.
"About that," I started, lifting my index finger in an attempt to emphasize a point. Ronan missed the point the wiggling finger was trying to stress, and plowed on ahead with his thoughts.
"You know, we really should've taken him to the hospital last night. I was so tired then that I didn't think about it, but if he did fall from a hang glider, then he must've been hurt. Ya know?" I opened my mouth to both agree with him, and get out what I needed to say, but he cut me off again. "But I guess he's alright. He doesn't look to have any broken bones or anythin'. Now all he needs to get to is a hotel."
"He's not going to a hotel," I blurted out, desperate to get the words to stop rattling around in my cheeks. I didn't want to prolong getting my ass handed to me any longer than necessary. Rip the bandaid off, I say. Ronan stopped mid-syllable, his mouth hanging open like someone had broken his jaw. Silence swirled through the air between us, tension suddenly making his shoulders arch up to touch his ears. Anger and worry contorted his handsome features with a deep frown.
"Say that again?" he asked. His words were slow and deliberate, like he'd end up shouting if he wasn't careful. Thoughts whirred behind his green orbs, most of them being dismissed as soon as they touched his irises. He was desperately trying to rationalize why I would say something so stupid, while steering clear of the one answer he did not want to be true.
"He's not going to a hotel, Ronan," I said again. My words were soft in tone, yet firm in their resolve, like I was talking to a ledge jumper. "He can't. He doesn't have the money."
"What do you mean he doesn't have the money?!" Ronan shouted. The sounds of garage stalled, the employees getting one quick look at their pissed off boss yelling at his friend before they went back to their jobs. My spine snapped to attention, just like Manny and Tony's had. My gesture was far from one of obedience, though. The motion was much more that of someone getting ready for a fight.
Ronan rolled his shoulders back, attempting to loosen the tension in them while also reigning in his temper. He closed his eyes and sucked in a deep breath through his nose. Rage rolled off of him in waves, making the good vibrations turn into flammable fumes. He held himself there for a few moments, taking deep, controlled breaths. He was counting to ten. Slowly, the anger cooled to frustration, making the air around us feel less like it was going to spontaneously combust and more like it was going to give us a static shock. When he opened his eyes, they were the deep, rich green of a forest during a rainstorm.
"How," he said, calmly, "does he not have any money? How did he get to America if he doesn't have any money?" It was a damn good question. One that my mind immediately came up with a lie to answer with. I was slowly beginning to hate myself. It should not be so easy to come up with lies to spout at your best friend. But for me, it was, and that pissed me off at me more than I could say. I only hoped Ronan didn't hate me after this, too.
"He was robbed," I said, quickly spewing out the lie that my mind created. "He called the hang gliding agency this morning to tell them what happened, and they told him that his rental car was missing. He had everything in it. He's broke and stranded." I delivered the lines like a skilled actor. If I'd been in a major motion picture, I'd have been given an Oscar nomination because I was just that good. But, I wasn't in a major motion picture, and the only award I was up for was "Worst Friend Ever".
Ronan ran a still oily hand through his hair. With a grimace, he looked at his hand, realizing what he'd done. Wiping his palm on his jeans, he set his gaze on me again. "So, what are you going to do, Alex? Don't tell me you're going to let him live with you."
I pursed my lips and smiled apologetically. "You said it, so I don't have to," I shrugged. His shoulders sagged as he lolled his head backwards. After a few moments of cussing at the roof, he rolled his head forward to stare at me with concern.
"Alex, no. You don't know this guy," he grabbed hold of my shoulders, once again ignoring that he was filthy. Stooping down a little so he could look me in the eye better, he tilted his eyebrows imploringly and shook his head. "You can't do this. It's too dangerous." God, he looked so helpless. It was like I was looking at a kicked puppy who was begging for mercy. And here I was, about to kick him again. The least I could do was soften the blow a little.
I put a hand on his cheek, letting sympathy and guilt override my usual hardass nature. "It'll be fine, Ronan. I'll be fine. He was at my house last night and he didn't kill me or anything, so he most likely won't do it any other night that he's there." I stroked my thumb over his sharp cheekbone, trying to soothe whatever fears that he might have had. "It's okay."
Ronan's eyes searched my face, looking for any sign that I wasn't confident in my decision. I watched as crushing understanding filled those dark orbs. I watched as worry sucked a bit of the light out of him. I thought that I didn't have a heart to break, but in that moment, I knew that I did. Without realizing it, I'd let him in, and he'd returned the favor. Now I really hated myself.
Finally, finding that I was iron clad on being a good Samaritan, he sighed. Leaning forward, he pressed a hard kiss to my forehead. The simple action spoke the words that couldn't come to his lips: don't let Loki hurt you. He leaned back, and released my shoulders. He stood at his full height, gently shaking his head as he towered over me.
"I still don't think it's a good idea, but fine. If you're sure he won't kill you, then I trust you," he said. Those last three words socked me in the gut like they were Mohammed Ali. Here I was, lying to him about how Loki had arrived in my life, and about why he had to stay, and Ronan was telling me he trusted me. First I lied, then I sucked the light out of him, and then he went and said something like that. Those words were the last straw. I opened my mouth to tell the truth of the entire situation, when Colin, one of Ronan's employees whose specialty was motorcycles, yelled for his boss from the other end of the shop. I was cut off with the truth still twisting itself around my tongue.
"Be right there!" Ronan yelled back, twisting his head around to shout over his shoulder. He returned his attention on me, giving me a worried and remorseful little smile. "Sorry. Duty calls. Phoenix should be done in about an hour. I'll have Matt get Loki for ya." He pulled me into a hug, squeezing me like he'd never hold me again. He was really starting to freak me out. He was acting like Loki really was going to kill me, and that this was the last time we'd ever speak. Hell, I was freaking me out with how much of an asshole I was being to my friend.
"I'll be calling you every day to make sure he isn't being a dick, or, ya know, killing you," he said, pulling away. His handsome face was plastered with a pathetically fake smile. I gave him a reassuring smile in return, patting his bicep as I did. The curve of my lips was equally fake. Thankfully, I'd had years to master it, perfecting it to the point that only I knew that I was screaming inside.
"I'll be fine. Now go make sure Colin doesn't kill himself with the machinery," I said. Ronan gave me a real smile that time, patting me on the shoulder before he walked off to help Colin. Like he said he would, he stopped by Matt along the way, who was working on polishing a freshly repaired fender. Ronan stooped down to talk to his employee, patting the worker on the back as he did. Matt's blond mop of hair bounced up and down in a nod, and he quickly sprung up with the rest of his body so he could do a lazy jog to the break room.
"He likes you, kid. You know that, right?" a deep scratchy voice asked from behind me. I turned to look at Bill, one of the older workers in the shop. He had short, dark gray hair that was speckled with white, and a beard that was the same peppery color. Mahogany eyes looked down at me through bushy, dark gray eyebrows. Bill was about five foot ten, covered with tattoos, and had at least nineteen silver studs in his left ear alone. He was a nice man with a hot streak boiling just under the surface. He was a jack of all trades mechanic, but was especially good at motorcycles and older model cars. I was pretty sure he and Phoenix were striking up a deep friendship behind my back. Speaking of relationships...
"Who? Matt?" I asked, crooking my arm to point toward the door the aforementioned Californian had passed through. "The guy barely talks to me. How can he like me?" My smartass answer was met with a whack to the head with an engine belt. I let out a sharp cry of surprise, snapping my hand up to rub my head. I glared at the fifty-something year old man, only to find that I was already being glared at.
"You know damn good and well I wasn't talking about Matt," he growled. I rubbed the top of my head again, then let my hand fall back down to my side.
"Well, I know you don't mean Ronan," I snapped. "He doesn't l-"
"Boy, I knew you were blind, but this is ridiculous," he said. He threw his hands up in exasperation, looking toward the ceiling like it would help open my eyes to what I didn't see. His eyes swung back around to settle on me, trying to beat his perspective into my head with sheer willpower. "That man has had his sights set on you ever since you came to town four years ago."
A harsh laugh ripped out of my throat. "Yeah right," I scoffed, rolling my eyes to the side a little. "I think you need glasses, old man." Bill growled and thwocked me on the head again. That time, it hurt. Turns out getting hit on the head with an engine belt twice in the same spot tended to smart a little.
"Ow! Would you stop that?!" I yipped. I vigorously rubbed my head in an attempt to make the pain dull a bit faster. I aimed another glare at him, though it was losing its affect. Pain and being told that your friend has the hots for you can really put a damper on glaring abilities.
"You gonna shut up and listen to me?" he snipped, irefully.
I frowned, indignant, but nodded. I did not want to hear that a friend, of whom I'd just realized I was actually friends with, was sweet on me. Of course, the whole not realizing that he really was my friend was completely my fault because I have a nasty tendency to push people away. Hell, I'd literally just realized that I'd let Ronan past my defenses. That was enough revelation for one day. Being told that he'd liked me for almost four years was too much for me to handle in ten minutes, let alone twenty-four hours.
I also generally refused to believe that anyone could possibly like me in an even a slightly chummy way. I didn't think I was worth the time for someone to be friendly with. I didn't think I was worth the friendship itself, to be honest. And the prospect of someone liking me for relationship purposes was so far out of my realm of understanding that it might as well have been Asgard. Let's hear it for self-esteem issues brought on by abusive childhoods!
"Before you came to town, Ronan would ask almost anything with a skirt out on a date," Bill started. "But after you entered the picture, the boy didn't go on more than one date a year."
I furrowed my eyebrows at the old man, trying to wrap my brain around what he was trying to tell me. "You're saying that Ronan was a serial boinker, and once I showed up I magically changed his adulterous ways?"
"You almost got it, kid," he nodded. "Except he didn't usually fuck the women. He'd just date 'em for a little bit, then move on. But once he met you, he didn't even do that." Bill leaned against the edge of his work bench. He gripped the wood on either side of his hips to steady himself. The broken belt was stilled grasped in his hand, and only when I looked down to notice the position of Bill's hands did I notice that he'd been hitting me with Phoenix's old belt. "He fell for you, baby girl. And he fell hard. We've been waiting for you to wake up and smell the coffee. Then you come waltzing in here with this new guy and-"
"Who's we?" I asked, cutting off his musings with a glower. He shot me a glare, irritated that I'd interrupted him and seemed to miss his point. I hadn't miss his point at all. I got the point loud and clear, unfortunately. But curiosity had taken over, and I really wanted to know if "we" meant who I thought it meant.
"The shop guys, of course. Use your brain, girl," he rumbled, wagging the belt at me menacingly. "I know you have one." He paused, waiting to see if I would say anything else. My mind, becoming increasingly stunned that everyone but me knew about Ronan's feelings, had decided to go silent. When it became obvious that I wasn't going to talk again, he continued. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say he was jealous of this Loki guy. Thankfully, I do know better, so I know that's not the case."
"Then what is that case, Bill?" I huffed, exasperated. I was getting tired of this. I did not want to be hearing that Ronan liked me! He was a great guy, but I didn't date anyone, regardless of how great they were. When it came to dating, I preferred to be left alone on the entire subject. It all went back to that crappy life thing, and not being able to trust people with the darkest parts of me.
"He's not jealous. He's worried," Bill said. He made it sound like it was common knowledge. His tone made it seem like he was talking about the Earth going around the sun. To me it sounded like he was saying that Earth orbited Jupiter, and somehow he had scientific facts to back it up. "Worried that he'll never get a chance with you now that this new guy is in the picture. He's left you alone about it because he knows your stance on relationships. But that doesn't stop him from thinking that maybe you'll suddenly change your mind."
"What, exactly, are you changing your mind about, Alex?" Loki asked from behind my shoulder. I almost went screaming to ceiling like a cat who'd had its tail stomped on. Thankfully, that was physically impossible, so I only hopped off the ground about six inches. I landed with a sag in my shoulders, and Loki's soft chuckle vibrating the small bones of my ears. "I apologize. It was not my intention to startle you."
My hand cut through the air, dismissing both the apology and the scare as no big deal. I was doing that a lot today. "It's fine," I said, shaking my head. I straightened up, telling my heart to calm down. It didn't listen. It went right on trying to jailbreak out of my chest. "Bill was telling me that Ronan thought I might change my mind about getting all of the new parts for Phoenix. But I didn't, so it's all good."
"Ah, yes. Well, that is indeed a relief. I'd loathe to walk around this town in this sweltering heat for much longer," Loki said with a small smile. He was trying to be courteous, instead of acting all high and mighty like he usually did. What had made him change his tune so suddenly? Last night he was Captain Dickweasel, with the superiority complex and inflated sense of ego of narcissist. This morning he was damn near the same, with the turning inanimate objects into devices of death and that fucking superiority complex. But then he'd helped me, rather unconventionally, with Andrea, and had also overheard me having a conversation with one of my deepest secrets. In that time, he'd changed for some reason. He'd started showing a bit more compassion toward me, and toward my acquaintances.
And, upon that realization, I instantly wondered what his angle was. In my experience, people seldom changed with such rapidity. It generally meant they were up to no good. It generally meant that I was going to end up breaking their nose. I'd done that a few times. Nose blood isn't exactly the most sanitary of injured orifice blood.
I stared at him for a second or two, letting my introspection slowly slip to the base of my brain before I thought to respond. "We're all loathe to walk around New Mexico in the middle of a hot day," I said with a false smirk.
Keep up appearances, Alex, I thought to myself. Don't let him know that you've caught on to whatever game he's playing.
"Unfortunately, Ronan won't be done with 'Nix for another hour," I continued, "so we're gonna have to walk to the thrift store. You alright with that?"
He nodded, a smile spreading across his thin lips to mirror my expression. "Indeed, I am."
While AFF and its agents attempt to remove all illegal works from the site as quickly and thoroughly as possible, there is always the possibility that some submissions may be overlooked or dismissed in error. The AFF system includes a rigorous and complex abuse control system in order to prevent improper use of the AFF service, and we hope that its deployment indicates a good-faith effort to eliminate any illegal material on the site in a fair and unbiased manner. This abuse control system is run in accordance with the strict guidelines specified above.
All works displayed here, whether pictorial or literary, are the property of their owners and not Adult-FanFiction.org. Opinions stated in profiles of users may not reflect the opinions or views of Adult-FanFiction.org or any of its owners, agents, or related entities.
Website Domain ©2002-2017 by Apollo. PHP scripting, CSS style sheets, Database layout & Original artwork ©2005-2017 C. Kennington. Restructured Database & Forum skins ©2007-2017 J. Salva. Images, coding, and any other potentially liftable content may not be used without express written permission from their respective creator(s). Thank you for visiting!
Powered by Fiction Portal 2.0
Modifications © Manta2g, DemonGoddess
Site Owner - Apollo