Author's note: Of course I own none of this am only borrowing said characters to satisfy my twisted need to get this on 'paper'. This tale was inspired by the movie "Sin City" over the comics and is strictly about Goldie and Marv. So to state the obvious I own nothing it's all from the glorious imagination of Frank Miller and said producers!

This tale has been rated as PG- 13 due to suggestive themes, nothing graphic or violent mind you, but just to be on the safe side. Not to mention this tale hasn't been betaed yet, so tread softly...


"…You look so fine
I want to break your heart
And give you mine
You're taking me over
It's so insane
You've got me tethered and chained
I hear your name
And I'm falling over…

…You're taking me over
Drown in me one more time
Hide inside me tonight
Do what you want to do
Just pretend happy end
Let me know let it show…"

You look so fine – Garbage

When I was still a child, my mother once told me that in my darkest hour, an angel would come. She said he would take my hand and guide me home.

But truthfully, I never really did believe her, I was far too practical for such things. For there are only two people in the entire universe whom I can depend on; my twin sister, Wendy and of course, myself.

So why am I here in this grungy hotel? It's far from the safety of my twin's watchful eye, as well as my "sisters" of Old Town.

I really should be going home now, but I don't.

I know danger is close and that is why I am here. I can't bear to place Wendy at risk because of my need to be secure. I know without a doubt if I leave, in my absence she will be safe from the predator who hunts me even now.

Yet in this dark hour, I am not alone.

In silence he slips his arms around my waist with the grace of a gentleman. It is unexpected. Not the gesture, rather, the gentleness to which this burly and powerful man holds me.

His every action is careful, and extremely respectful. At first I figure it's because he has no reason to showcase his strength, but when I look into his eyes I see another reason, the real reason.

Had I not had the experience, I would never have guessed that he is nervous and awed, though he hides it well. Normally I wouldn't have cared less, I've seen this sort of thing before and it never really phased me much. But for some reason tonight it is touching.

I offer him my name. My real name, not the pseudo-names I usually give my clients. I can't say I'm sure why I did. It's as though there is something about him that sets me at ease, just enough to open up a little, without fear.

He says his name is Marv.

I'm glad I met you Marv.

The room is hot despite the old air conditioner that thrums in the background. It's a cheap hotel, hardly a place one imagines themselves visiting, certainly not to hide from danger. But here I am and I've never felt more safe in my life.

I tell him, I want him, and I am surprised by the fact I mean it. He is hardly what one would call attractive yet I'm drawn to him like a moth to a flame. A flame that will become an inferno before the night fades away into morning.

Our lips meet and it's electric. The sparks soon erupt into an explosion, leaving nothing behind in it's wake. It's a moment of passion, I will never forget.

For all of his raw power and strength there is an innocence about him that only added to his charm and to my surprise. He hides it well, but a trained eye can see through it. He treats me as though I am a goddess. His every touch is filled with fiery passion and reverence. I've never felt so beautiful, so sacred or so loved.

But only too soon the moment of sweet surrender passes leaving me exhausted yet at peace. Nothing else matters now, for he is here and I know everything will be alright.

Slipping my arms around his chest I lean over and stare into his eyes. There is so much I want to say, so much I wish I could say. Yet the only one phrase escapes me.

"I need you."

He doesn't say a word, but his eyes say it all. Everything I want to tell him, and more.

However I am tired and morning is coming faster then either of us wants to admit, yet even this doesn't bother me. So I drift into the first peaceful sleep I've had in years, reminded of my mother's final words to me once more.

I never held much faith in the romantic notions of angels; but then I never believed in "true love" before tonight either.

Yet it would seem my mother was right all along. For in my arms is my angel and tonight I will be going home.