I'm not that excited about this chapter. But thank you to those who reviewed! You guys make me so happy. ;3

Mello's POV

I awoke with a start this morning. Normally people wake up slowly and take their precious time rolling around in their soft, warm bed waiting for sleep to release its tight, loving grip on them. Today I woke up as if I were coming out of an exorcism. I sat up and wildly looked about the unfamiliar room.

Then last night's events rushed back.

Matt. I was surprised I didn't get to arrest him. I was surprised that I didn't care. I glanced at the clock and saw it was only seven. I flopped back down on the hard mattress and nestled back down in the stained sheets, smelling last night's fun in them, a mingle of leather, cigarettes, and sex.

The night was definitely worth those big six bills. To relive the night would have been priceless.

Matt's POV

Though today was my day off from work, my manager called me in so we could talk. Apparently, Casey was right to worry about Leanne, because she was finally found early this morning. In jail.

Admittedly, I was fucking shocked. I didn't think cops went after prostitutes anymore. They were like Pokemon, 'gotta catch them all!' my ass. There were far too many to catch them all, so why bother. Though I was even more shocked when Leanne described the cop.

"He was blond," She began, "And had blue eyes. And he had a scar on one half of his face. But he was a beauty," She sighed dreamily, ignoring Casey's snort of disgust.

"What kinda mother fuckin' pig would look like that?" He growled.

"You find out that man's name?" Zack asked, sidling away from Casey's towering form.

Leanne shook her head, frizzy red mane moving with her, "No."

I didn't know if I should have spoken up about Mello or not, but I felt the instinct to keep quiet. He didn't arrest me. I was damn thankful.

"Alright," I said, standing up from the red leather chair in Zack's little office, "It's my day off. I'm going home. See you tomorrow."

Zack nodded, "Later."

"You let your damn hoes leave just like that?" Casey demanded, blocking my way out.

Zack and I exchanged looks. Zack was a miniature 5'2 and deathly afraid of me. I was not one of those flexible little girls that other pimps toy with, and he knew that. I call Zack my manager because the little bastard just managed my money. He did nothing more than be my bank account and book me at clubs.

Zack laughed nervously at my all-knowing smirk, "Man, me and Matt is cool."

Casey shook his large fat head in disbelief, "You is a sorry ass pimp."

My grin widened at Zack and he flinched, "Nah, nah, dude. He still my... hoe," He flinched again, "But me and Matt got respect for each other. We bros, right Matt?"

I ignored him. Zack was trying for the impossible. He always tried to be everyone's friend. He wanted to seem like a worthy pimp, but he also wanted to be on my good side. He was not my 'bro'. He was a fucking punk. But his connections always kept me around.

I stepped past Casey and left the office, already yearning for my bed and Xbox.

I climbed in my beloved red Chevelle and drove straight home.

When I arrived in my apartment I ordered a pizza and hopped right in the shower.

I love my days off. I was the kind of guy that just enjoys staying home and doing absolutely nothing but play video games and eat pizza. And yet you'd wonder why someone as introverted as me would choose the life of a busy prostitute.

Well, everyone needs a job. And fuck, if it weren't illegal and frowned upon, I think everyone would do it; the hours and pay were amazing.

I worked every other night for eight hours. Monday, Wednesday, Friday, and Sunday. Monday and Sunday were street nights, Wednesday and Friday were strip-club nights. That was 32 hours a week. In the average night I could make about 800 bucks, for a lucky night I could reel in about 2,000.

God, I was a lucky, lucky man.

I thoroughly scrubbed every inch of my body over and over again until my skin felt raw, the satisfying, clean sort of raw. Once I felt pleased with the condition of my hair and body I stepped out of the shower, tossing a towel over my head. I padded, dripping wet, to the small kitchen and fixed myself up with an ice-cold beer.

I carried my beer into the living room and lowered myself to the floor. If I weren't soaking wet, I would have chosen the couch, but the soft carpeted floor was just as nice. I groaned in pain as I laid down, suddenly realizing how sore my ass really was. That Mello had really done a number on me... I wonder what he was doing right now anyway...

I guess I had dozed off, because I found myself being awoken by the loud annoying buzz of my doorbell.

"JUST LEAVE IT OUTSIDE," I hollered, crawling over to the door and stuffing a twenty in the bottom crack, "KEEP THE CHANGE."

"THANK YOU, SIR," A man's voice called back. I waited until his footsteps faded down the hall before cracking open the door and pulling the pizza inside.

I sat back, pulling the hot pizza on my lap, grinning like crazy. I was fucking ecstatic. Pizza showered with pepperoni and jalapenos. This is life's greatest pleasure. I left the pizza box on the glass coffee table and went to the bedroom to wiggle into some clean boxers. I sprinted into the living room and vaulted over the black leather couch.

I grabbed my Xbox controller and turned on the Xbox. I was in a COD mood, but Halo was in the console and I was far too lazy to go change games. So I settled for Reach.

I flicked open the pizza box and carefully selected a large slice of pizza, glistening with grease. It was so beautiful. I took a bite. My day has begun.

Mello's POV

"So, we just have to go visit the scene and take pictures for Near. That's all," Lidner smiled, it wasn't a happy smile. She knew just as much as I did that Near didn't even give a shit about this case.

"Near's fucking retarded," I snapped, drumming my fingers impatiently on the window, I was tired and angry. After hooker hunting all night, Near had thought it would be cool for me to work during the day too. I was being fueled on only five hours of sleep, and for someone who didn't get his coffee this morning, that was not good enough.

Halle shrugged, not knowing what to say.

"Can we run by Tom Thumb?" I asked, pointing at the sign as we neared the convenient store.

Halle flipped on her blinker which was her idea of a yes.

I stepped out and bent down to lean in the car, picking out a few quarters in the little coin tray, "Want anything?"

"Can you get me a-"

I slammed the car door shut. I thought she would have said no thank you, so I decided last minute that that was a rhetorical question... turns out you don't get to answer those.

I strode into Tom Thumb and headed straight for the coffee section.

As I was fixing my coffee a large black man loomed into my peripheral vision. I glanced to my right to see him filling a cup with Sprite. He looked down at me without interest before turning his attention back to the soda machine. I shrugged it off and turned to face him, grabbing a coffee lid.

His head whipped around and he stared at me in shock, eyes wide with fury.


His nostrils flared wider, flashing a disgusting crust-cavern inside his nose.

Leanne rounded the corner of the candy aisle and froze.

"This him, Leanne?" The man growled, his voice was one of those deep, stereotypical black radio men voices.

She shook her head wildly, "No," She wheezed without hesitation, "No."

"This man fit the pig you described. Looks juss' like him," The large man cracked his beefy knuckles.

Pig? Me? Naw, "Do you have a bone to pick with me, sir?" I spat out the 'sir' violently.

"Casey, that's not him! The scar was smaller and wasn't a burn scar! Please, can we go? We're attracting attention!"

She didn't want me to get in trouble with her pimp. How sweet. Teehee... "What's wrong with my scar?" I said, self-consciously brushing my scar with my free hand, eyes wide, confused, and innocent.

"No! Nothing! I'm sorry, my boyfriend thought he recognized you!" She laughed nervously, "Casey! Can we go."

Casey turned and smashed his way past her, and like a wild rampaging gorilla, left the convenient store.

Leanne's innocent, nervous little smile was wiped off her face instantly. She glared at me, "Watch your back, you fucking pig."

I just simply smirked at her.

She spun around swiftly on her oversized flip flops and marched out of the store.

I snatched up my coffee and headed for the register, scooping up a couple chocolate bars on my way there. I could live off of coffee and chocolate. Sue me.

I climbed back in the car and Halle drove us to Near's stupid little crime scene thing.

Matt's POV

My cell rang for the seventh time today. It was my work cell, but I still didn't want to answer it.

I answered it anyways, "Hello?"

"Matt! Finally! Where you been?"

"I'm at my house. Enjoying my day off. What do you want, Zack?" I demanded, after what happened early this morning with him, I wasn't feeling very open and friendly.

"I just wanted to remind you that you have club duty at Mick's tomorrow night. It's Freaky Friday. Mick said he wants y'all in mowhawks and stuff. Y'know some freaky shit."

Augh, Freaky Friday? Mick was running out of ideas. Though the mowhawks were a neat idea, "I'll be there."

"Man, niggah, I know you gonna be there. You ever let me down?"

"Stop. Don't call me that," I groaned, referring to Zack's annoying word choice of the term 'niggah'.

"Sorry, man. Aight, well I'll be seein' you," He hung up.

I tossed my phone back on the couch and put back on the Xbox mic. I greeted my Live party and went to play Matchmaking.


"Oh, it's Matt! That's my boy! That's my boy!" Shaunee squealed and threw her arms around me.

This was how I was greeted when I entered Mick's Devils early on Friday night.

One of the regular Devils, Shaunee, was already there and setting up things for the busy night ahead.

Shaunee was a tiny black woman who had a sweet, inncocent face, but scratch the surface and you'll find a vicious, obnoxious attitude. She dances only at Mick's and disagrees with the whole prostitution line of work. Even though she was a very, very loyal customer to Leanne.

"How's Leanne?" She asked, eyes sparkling.

"She misses you," I smiled gently, "She wants to see you sometime."

Shaunee lowered her eyes, "W-well. I miss her too," She stammered, twisting her shoulders from side to side so that her arms swung childishly by her sides.

"What a lesbian."

She ignored me, giggling, "Can I do your mowcock?"

"You mean mowhawk?"

She shrugged, "Yeah whatever. Can I?"

I nodded and let her pull me into the men's dressing room, where we ran into Neil, another regular Devil.

His pitch black hair was already gelled in a short mowhawk, "Hey, Matt," He grinned, "What do you think of my 'mowcock'?" He laughed, eying Shaunee warily who was now glowering at him.

"Sexy," I flashed him a smile and climbed into the chair, watching him through the mirror.

"Shaunee, say mowhawk," Neil pleaded.

"Get the fuck out of here, Neil!" She heaved a hair brush at Neil, who ducked and sprinted, screaming, out of the dressing room.

"SHAUNEE," I heard Mick scream from somewhere down the hall, "STOP HARRASSING MY DANCERS."

Shaunee let out an exasperated little cry and starting brushing my hair.

Mello's POV

I don't know why, but I went back to the downtown area. I visited that Orchid and 9th corner again, and even drove around in the nearby area. I was searching for something but I didn't know what.

No. I knew what. I knew exactly what I was looking for. And I was a fool if I was going to sit here and lie to myself.

I was searching for Matt. I wanted to relive that night. I needed to.

One hit and I was already addicted. And already I would do anything to get another fix.

I pulled the car up next to a small man who was pacing up and down the sidewalk, "Excuse me," I called, watching as the man jumped a foot in the air and gaped at me, eyes dark, burning coals set in a ashen face.

He glanced around wildly and scurried over. His eyes were wide, black and bloodshot. Speaking of addiction...

"Do you know a Matt around here?"

The jittery man bobbed his head yes.

"Red hair? Prostitute?"

He bobbed his head so jerkily that I thought his head would roll off his thin neck.

"Do you think you could tell me where he is?"

The man's voice was small, high, and breathy, "I-I heard," He twitched, "That he was dancing down at Mick's Devils tonight."

"Thanks," I rolled the window up, putting a barrier between me and the twitchy man.

People like this always had a way of horrifying me.

Where did life go wrong for them? When did they fall?

It is a nasty thing, addiction is... You can get clean, but you always managed to reluctantly wiggle yourself back in its greedy clutches.

I gazed sadly out my tinted window at the man, who shambled around aimlessly on the sidewalk like some mindless zombie. I should have wanted to help him. But I guess addictions make you selfish, because I wanted nothing more than to satisfy my own thirst for what ever it is that made me so parched.

I pulled off the curb, and without even so much as a backward glance towards the zombie-man, I drove to Mick's Devils.

I climbed out of the car and freaking half-skipped across the small parking lot of Mick's Devils. I stopped at the door, quickly composed myself, and strutted in like a boss.

I skirted around the tables and slid into the booth off to the far left of the club. My eyes scanned the stage for Matt, but he wasn't up there. I searched the crowd of people clustered at the foot of the stage, but he wasn't around there either.

The women, and I think that was a guy that just passed me, were all wearing mohawks. Some of the women got all nifty with their hair and had their curls pinned up into a mohawk. Mick was a genius as always. His dancers looked fucking hot.

I was picking at the drink coaster with a hot devil lady on the front when a voice sounded from beside me, "Hi!"

I glanced up and appraised the small black woman sporting a sky-high mohawk before me, "Hey."

She giggled, "I'm Shaunee," She pinched what little material clung to her body and curtsied, "Want a dance?"

I seriously considered it, but decided I'd rather have a dance from Matt, "Is Matt here tonight?"

Shaunee threw back her head and laughed, "You're just adorable! I'll go get him," She scurried off.

A minute or so passed before Matt, also in a mohawk, appeared next to me, face pleasantly blank, Shaunee hovered behind him, giggling like an awestruck schoolgirl, "Hey, Mello. What can I do for you?" He turned to Shaunee and flicked his hands at her, shooing her off. She clapped her hands together and folded them sweetly before running away.

Now that she was gone Matt's blank mask turned furious, "What."

My lower lip pushed out, why must everyone hate me? "What did I do?"

His hands slammed on the table and he brought his face close to mine, "I know what you are."

Images of that shitty teenage vampire movie flashed in my mind, I grinned, if he liked role-play, "Say it," I was grinning now, "Out loud."

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. With his hair pulled up and away from his face like that, you got to enjoy what a nice little bone structure he had going on. His eyes weren't shadowed by his bangs and were an even brighter shade of emerald, and the sharp curve of his jawline was more visible, "You're a fucking pig," He hissed in my face.

I jerked back, very sure that surprise was draining my face of all color, "W-What? How did you-?"

"You arrested my friend Leanne," He snarled, "She told me all about you. You made her suck your cock right before you arrested her. I bet you were going to arrest me right after you fucked me, huh? I bet you didn't think I'd get away. So now you fucking stalked me all the way here so you could finish the job."

I was silent. Fucking stunned. I did not know what to say, so I just sat there staring at him.

He clicked his teeth together, taking a bite out of air. He leaned closer, I could feel his warm breath tickling my face, "And you think I'm going to just let you take me away, dick? Fuck. That. I can kick your fucking ass."

"Hold on just a second, Matt," I snapped, "Let's just get some things straight. First of all, if I really wanted to arrest you that night, I would have and could have. I wouldn't have just let my guard down like that and fallen asleep on you. Secondly, I didn't stalk you," Okay, small lie, but whatever, "I just came in here and happened to find you. And third," I laughed, "What makes you think you can fight me?"

His nostrils flared, I guess it was a common trait amongst whores and pimps, he shoved his face closer into mine, jamming a finger into my chest, he wanted violence, "Don't underestimate me, punk. I'd fuck you up."

I was getting a little pissed off now, nobody just gets in my face, "Says the guy who takes it up the ass like a bitch," I hissed, smirking back into his face.

His fist appeared out of no where and collided into my jaw, my head snapped back and thunked dully against the booth. Pain. Ouch. He just punched me in face! He. Just. Punched. Me. In. The. Face. Out of pure reflex I jumped up and punched him back. He staggered slightly before lunging at me.

We collapsed in the booth with him on top, his flying fists nailing me repeatedly in the gut. My leg found a free space between us and I kicked him off me. He landed on the carpeted floor and I was on top of him instantly pinning his flailing arms with my legs.

"Matt!" I cried in exasperation, "Can't you just listen to me?" I most certainly did not come here for this.

"You started it!" He huffed, writhing beneath me, his arm popped out from under my leg and his hand latched onto my throat, squeezing, cutting off all air flow.

I gasped for air, but was granted none. I clawed at his hand but he held firm, I found myself being rolled onto my back, Matt's angry face hovered above me. Black spots exploded in my vision and my mouth opened and closed helplessly, like a fish out of water trying to draw a much needed breath.

He removed his hand, and oxygen rushed into my aching lungs. I inhaled as much air as I could. Savoring the taste and feel of air. But this joy was ephemeral, because Matt delivered a hard, final blow to the stomach, knocking the remaining wind out of me.

I rolled over onto all fours and threw up the contents of my stomach. Matt's triumphant laughter bubbled in my ears. It was not at all soothing.

Matt's POV

"A bitch, huh? Look who's throwing up after a measly little punch to the stomach!" I cooed in Mello's ear, fighting a disturbing urge to lick it.

"MATT," Screamed Mick, "WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU. SIR! SIR!" He rushed over, "Oh! Mello? Mello, boy, are you alright?"

"How do you know Mello?" I asked, staring at Mick in a new light.

"Never mind that. What the fuck happened?"

"He was messing with me."

"Mello doesn't fuck with people for no reason," Mick said sternly, "What happened?"

Mello sat up and glared at me, "I just wanted a dance. And your dancer here just punched me in the face."

"Mello's a pig!" I pointed at childishly him, feeling utterly stupid at my juvenile gesture.

Mick scratched at the salt and pepper stubble on his chin, "I know," He said simply.

"But you hate pigs!" I cried.

"Mello is a cop worth knowing," He said, patting Mello tenderly on the knee, before climbing to his feet with a heavy groan, he turned to Mello, "And keep in mind, Mello, Matt is not just a whore," He turned and walked off.

Mick's approval of Mello suddenly made me feel apologetic towards the blonde, "Hey, man, listen," I began before being cut off by Mello raising his hand.

"Don't apologize," He rose, his cat-like grace was back in his movements, he offered me a hand, "I shouldn't have underestimated you."

I grinned, "Why the sudden change of heart?"

"Well, you gave me quite a fight back there. That... and I trust Mick's opinion," His voice was filled with such respect for the man, I had to wonder...

"How do you guys-?"

"Want a drink?" He interrupted, a flirtatious grin spreading across his lips.

I sighed, "I guess so."

We both sat down at the booth we were previously wrestling in and ordered drinks. While I was sipping on my drink, Mello was staring hard at me. His blue eyes absorbing every little detail, every little movement I made. It was creepy and flattering all at the same time.

"Why," My voice came out rough, Mello smiled, I cleared my throat, "Why didn't you arrest me that night?"

Mello shrugged, his little finger tracing mindless designs in the condensation, his eyes still locked onto mine, "I didn't think you'd last a night in jail."

I leaned back in the booth and folded my arms across my chest, "That's not the real reason, is it?"

"I was going to arrest you," He finally admitted, his eyes tore from mine and fixed themselves on his drink, "But I completely forgot about it. When I woke up... I realized I didn't arrest you. And I realized I didn't care."

I tapped the table with my hand, trying to get his eyes back on me, it worked, "Thank you," I said, my voice dripping with sincerity.

He leaned forward, glancing around as if about to say something he didn't want anyone to hear, "I still want a dance."

I was more than happy to oblige. I crawled around the booth and climbed into his lap, straddling him. Mello gripped my hips and started laughing. I shot him a quizzical look.

"Just ten minutes ago you were punching me in the face."

Well, it was pretty funny.

Okay. I don't know what I was thinking. The fight just kind of happened and I didn't have the heart to delete it and start all over. At least Mello has respect for Matt now and their relationship can start moving from lust to love soon. RIGHT! D; Bleeeeeh

Review. It makes me happy!