A Taylor/Roger fic.
Disclaimer: I don't own Skulls, but I did buy the three-pack at Walmart.
A/N: Okay, I was extremely disappointed to see only 6 stories for this on here, and none of them about Roger/Taylor. I love this pairing, so I might be doing a few more stories about it.
For those of you waiting for an update on my other stories, I can't update them until I get my internet working on my mac, right now I'm on a different computer, so the only stories I can do here are new ones, the others - the ones that I've started - are all on my mac. Please be patient, I'm trying, but apparently the Shaw cd hates Mac computers. If anyone knows a way I can get my internet working faster, please feel free to Personal Message me, but if you don't please just be patient.
Back to this story, this is my first Skulls fic, for Skulls 3, and as I said, I love this pairing, so I didn't go too far off-script in this one, but I did add a few things that weren't there.
Taken from Taylor's point of view.
I hope you enjoy the story, I know I had fun writing it.
As always, please read and review, I live for feedback!
I used to think it was eerie, the way his eyes followed me wherever I went, the look in his eyes when he would watch me swim, or follow me on my runs. He would say it was because "they" were always watching, and she was his "assignment".
We never talked, not really. He would say "hello" in that condescending way, and I would reply with something "discretely" snotty. He was actually a fairly good runner, not many could keep up with me, but he did. Sometimes, he almost looked like he was enjoying himself. But then once, we ran into Ethan, and I could see the guilty look in Roger's eyes, and the furious look in Ethan's, and since then, he's always watched from afar. It's weird that I miss it.
Then came the final night of the initiation. I had finally received my book and key, and my watch. Next, we were to be branded with the mark of the Order. Big surprise, Roger chose my wrist to take, over all the other "pledges". His fingers were like ice, but at the same time, a fierce heat rushed through my body, starting at my quivering left hand. He had never touched me before ... not that I could recall, and certainly not like this. It was almost ... intimate. Even though I knew that in moments, he would be searing my fair skin, I couldn't help but get lost in his eyes. It seemed like an eternity that he stared at me, my heart thumping so loud I couldn't hear anything else around me, but then he dipped his head slightly, almost unnoticably, and I knew what was coming next. Some part of me registered that he was warning me of what was to come, and I braced myself for the pain.
Yeah ... it hurt like a son of a bitch. I was surprised my eyes weren't watering, as I gritted my teeth from the pain, but then I registered something else. A light stroking on my palm, and I looked down quickly to see Roger's hand in mine, his thumb tracing circles below my wrist. I brought my eyes back up to his face, the pain melting away, and he held my gaze for a few moments before he removed the branding iron, and then released my hand. It had felt like a dream, and now I was waking up, the pain once again flaring.
The next day, my father came by, which was beyond unusual, but he was bringing me my invitation, and he almost seemed worried about me. We finally connected again, and it was like everything with Sam had never happened. He even made a joke about his daughter being the first woman in the Skulls.
We arrived at Nathan Lloyd's estate, and I was ready to go into the house with the others, but Roger pulled me aside, saying they had other accomodations for me. His hand brushed mine as he took my bag, and I wondered if he shivered, or if that was just me.
I tried to insist that I didn't need to be away from the main house, that I was fine sharing a room with one of the "boys", but his father came over, chattering about them knowing how to treat a lady. I watched the interaction between father and son, and actually started to feel bad for Roger. No wonder he could be such a jerk sometimes.
He handed me my bag, stopping me from commenting, and told me to be ready in an hour, he would see me then. I forced down the butterflies that "promise" awoke in my stomach. Why did he cause this reaction in me?
The dress was beautiful, but the necklace was ... well, breathtaking. I had to wonder if it was Roger who picked it out, then shook my head internally for thinking about him again. I dressed, enjoying the feeling of such formal attire. The party was enjoyable, I got to dance and have fun with my father, and got introduced to many Skulls alumni. Brian asked me to dance several times, and it was fun, but I got the feeling that he liked me a little too much, and didn't know what to make of it, what to tell him if he should try to make a move.
Even as I was dancing, I could his eyes on me, and tried not to be obvious about looking around. Once I found him, I saw that he was indeed staring at me, and I was captivated, staring back. After a while, I started feeling hot ... how could I not with that piercing gaze? So I went outside to cool down, and who else should appear, but Ethan? Saying something about me sending him an email, telling him to meet me ... it was weird, but I didn't have time to process it before I heard a voice calling my name.
I told Ethan I would meet him later, and turned to see Roger. I walked back up the steps, coming to a stop beside him.
"What are you doing out here?" he wondered.
I answered truthfully. "Just getting some fresh air." It was why I had come out here in the first place, but I knew that both myself and Ethan would be in trouble if he was caught. "Is that a problem?"
He looked at me for a moment, and I felt suddenly warm again, but then he said, "My father wanted to see you inside."
I nodded, returning to the party, ignoring the feeling of his eyes on my back, and something told me that wasn't all they were looking at.
The party wore on, and I started to feel a bit funny, so I headed back to the coach house to find Ethan and tell him to leave, but I could barely put a sentence together, so he took me to lie down. That's when all hell broke loose.
The next thing I knew, Roger and Brian were at the coach house, probably to wake me for breakfast or something, (why it would take two of them is beyond me) and Ethan was dead. I tried to go to him, to help him, but Roger put his hand on my arm, and Brian was pulling me back. I tried to make Roger look at me, pulling on his arm and tugging on his jacket, but Brian was pulling me back, up to the main house.
Everything else was a blur. My father and Nathan Lloyd deciding to cover up Ethan's murder, the police coming to get me, sitting in that interrogation room and going through the motions of my story, but before I could talk about Ethan's murder, the "interview" was over, and I was being led out of the building by "my lawyers". And Roger was there.
I didn't know why, but something about him had changed. I didn't feel safe. The look in his eyes had changed. I had to get away, so I ran. I ran to my father, told him what happened, and he told me about Nathan Lloyd. He told me to go back to school, and try to get things back to normal.
Then I found out that I had a type of rohipnol in my system ... I had been drugged. I lied to my swim coach and the other woman, telling them I had no idea how it could have happened, but I didn't have much time to think on this, because then it was Ethan's funeral.
I stayed afterwards, alone in the church, remembering Ethan, and I didn't even hear him come in, but there was behind me, scaring me when he said, "that was a lovely service, wasn't it?"
I didn't respond, and he told me if there was anything I needed "they" were there for me. I couldn't handle talking to him right now, not when I couldn't get a handle on my own emotions, so I told him I wanted to be left alone.
"Don't make us your enemy, Taylor," he told me, and I immediately responded, asking if that was a threat.
"It's a strong suggestion," he said in that thick, silky voice of his, and I had to work not to melt, but then remembered that I shouldn't be trusting him right now, so instead I told him to stay the hell away from me.
He reacted as I thought he would, threatening me with the dress covered in blood, and the murder weapon which apparently had my finger prints on it. He told me I was either with them, or against them, and then Brian showed up. He assured Brian that everything was fine, and then when he stood, he touched my shoulder. It was unclear if that gesture was meant to be threatening or comforting, but if left my shoulder feeling very warm. I didn't understand how I could still have these feelings for him after what happened to Ethan, and especially now that it looked like he might have had something to do with it. What the hell is wrong with me?
Brian offered me a ride home, helping me with my coat, which was nice, but his hands lingered a little too long, and I had to work not to pull away from him.
We found out Veronica was in danger, and Brian and I went to get her, then we went and found the IP address of who really sent the email getting Ethan to that party.
We stopped Dad from giving Nathan Lloyd what he wanted, and me, Veronica and Brian stayed at my father's house. The next morning, the police arrived, but Veronica covered for us while me and Brian ran. We snuck into the Lloyd's estate, searching for the computer. My heart was pounding in my chest as we went up the stairs, and Brian dropped his phone, so I picked it up and put it in my pocket, continuing up the stairs.
We heard Roger say he had the computer, and told whoever was on the other line to get there as soon as they could.
Dammit. I hadn't wanted him to be behind this.
I knew we had to get the computer, so Brian walked right up to Roger, grabbing the computer and then he hit him. Even though I knew it was wrong, some part of me wanted to make sure he was okay. Stupid emotions! Then Brian kept hitting him, even though I had the computer, so I ran for it, leaving them to it. A security guard tried to stop me, but I handled it, just in time for Brian to catch up to me. We tried for the front gate, but Lloyd was pulling in, so we ran to the coach house. I didn't even notice that Brian knew exactly where the spare key was, I just ran inside.
The next thing I knew, Brian's cell phone was ringing, and I answered shakily after seeing "N. Lloyd" on the caller ID. It was Brian. Brian was the one helping Lloyd. Oh. My. God.
Nathan Lloyd came in, and the only part of their conversation that I registered was Roger lying on the dining room floor. Roger. He was innocent.
I dialed 911 on Brian's cell, and found out that it was Lloyd who killed Ethan.
Lloyd had the gun raised, and just as I was wondering if he was going to kill me already, Roger walked in. My adrenaline was rushing overdrive as he moved to stand in front of me. He turned to me. I'm sorry Taylor, I didn't know. But we're getting the hell out of here, I already called the police, they're on their way right now."
I almost smiled at him, my heart racing. I threw Brian the phone, letting them know that the police had heard their confession, and Roger told me to go, we were gonna walk away. He told his father he wasn't gonna let him get away with it. I ran, and Lloyd tried to shoot me, but Roger got in the way, stopping the first shot, but the second one hit him. I wanted to run to Roger, to help him, but his father turned around, intent on shooting me, so I did the only thing I could ... I ran away. Lloyd tried to talk his way out of his predicament, but when he raised his gun on me, they shot him.
The male officer who had been interrogating me told me that Roger had called them, filled them in on everything. Then Roger walked out of the coach house, holding his bleeding shoulder, but otherwise okay.
Some days later, I don't know how long it really was, I slept for too long to know for sure, Roger came to my father's house. He had a sling, and a few bruises, but he was alive. I couldn't describe how happy that made me. He told my father he came to apolize, and dad left, leaving us alone outside.
"Uh, Taylor ..."
"It wasn't your
fault, Roger. I know that now," I told him, finally sure of my
feelings. "You did the right thing in the end. If it wasn't for
"I can't believe I've waited my entire life to become a Skull, just to please my father," he told me. "I never wanted to believe he could be involved in something like this, but I guess I always knew. And then he gave the murder weapon to the police, and when I overheard him call Brian about the email ... that's why I took the computer. I knew he'd destroy it."
"Brian. I still can't believe it, I completely trusted him," I said, annoyed with myself. "I guess he'll spend the rest of his life in jail."
"For what? For the Skulls?" He stood there for a second, looking at his shoes for some reason, then finally looked back up at me. "I also want you know, I actually admire the way you fought your way in. And especially the way you fought your way out. I could never tell you that before. I was ... too busy trying to play the part my father expected."
I smiled. "I kinda know how that works." Ignoring the fluttering in my heart at knowing he admired me.
"Is there any chance we might end up being friends?" he asked me.
"Are you still a Skull?"
He held up his hand, his now watch-free hand, and I smiled again.
"Then I'd say we're off to a pretty good start."
He smiled back at me, and I almost melted again. "How are you doing, anyway?"
"I'm good," he said, nodding. "I'm good.
"Do you wanna stay a while?" I asked him, hoping more than I should admit that he would say yes. "I'm sure we have a lot to talk about."
He nodded. "Yeah, that'd be nice."
There's that smile again. Damn, he's cute.
"Come on over," I told him. "How's your arm?" It was, after all, the perfect excuse to touch him.
Okay, what did you think? Like it, hate it? Anything?