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Disclaimer: Not mine. =3

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Last night a little dancer came dancin’ to my door
Last night a little angel came pumpin’ cross my floor
She said "Come on baby I got a licence for love
And if it expires pray help from above"

-Billy Idol, Rebel Yell

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Peaches 'n' Cream Part 4

[Vash]

It’s obvious that Wolfwood knows something is up. It’s also obvious that he has no clue what it is. It’s even more obvious that he wants to know what’s up, constantly trying to get a peek into the contents of the folder. He’s been doing that all day. While I sat at the table during my break, he was always looking over my shoulder as he walked by, carrying plates of food or cleaning up. When I got back to work, I put the folder in my employee’s locker, and there were quite a few times that I caught him trying to pick the lock. Never one to scold, I simply gave him the evil eye, letting him know that I was there, watching him, and that his plan had been foiled. Never one to make excuses, he simply frowned and walked away. Now that we’re off work, on the way to our shared quarters, he has no heistation about asking to investigate said folder.

"Can I see it?"

"No." I cling to it, holding it tightly against my chest.

"What’s in it?"

"Nothing important."

"Then why can’t I see it?"

"Because," I say, switching it from my chest to the arm furthest away from him.

"Because why?"

"Because I said so."

He frowns at me, opening the thick wooden door that leads to our room and its bare, monotonously gray insides. I tilt my chin up a bit and walk inside in front of him despite the fact that he hadn’t been holding the door open for me. I guess I’m enjoying him fretting over this a bit more than I should, but what can I say? It’s fun to see him fretting over something involving me for once. "Why are you being so secretive about that damned folder?"

I sigh and toss it onto the bed, my body following quickly behind it. "Nicholas, I hate to say this, but it’s none of your business."

Okay, that definitely pissed him off. The door slams behind him and before I even know what’s going on, he’s on top of my back, grabbing for the folder on my pillow. Despite the tight squeeze, I manage to get it underneath my body, wrapping my arms protectively around it. "Gimme the folder!"

"No!"

"Gimme the folder!"

"No!"

He then does something so horrible, so wretched, that I doubt I could ever forgive him: he tickles me. Jamming his fingers into my ribcage, he practically gnaws at my flesh with his hands, sending me into horrid spasms and shrieks and causing tears to come to my eyes. "Wolf... Wolfwood! Stop it!" I squirm about beneath him, using the length of my legs as an advantage to kick him in the back with my heel.

Finally, after a few minutes of a relentless attack on his part, I manage to flip myself over, thus sending him to the floor at the side of my bed. Folder still clung possessively to my chest, I brush the hair out of my eyes and frown at him. "You can’t see the folder, Wolfwood."

"Why not?" he growls at me from the floor, still frowning and looking rather angry. "Give me one good reason why you won’t let me see it, and I’ll leave you alone."

I put the folder on the bed and sit on it, pulling my leg up to take off my shoes. I sigh to myself, trying to think of an answer for this. An answer that is vague, yet still direct enough to get him off my back about it. Finally, I come up with the only reasonable explanation. "Because you wouldn’t approve."

The frown marring his features suddenly vanishes, and he looks at me with something along the lines of worry in his eyes. He sighs and stands, moving to sit down on the bed next to me. "Vash, I swear to God, if you’re gonna do something stupid again, I’m not coming to your rescue."

"It’s not dangerous, Wolfwood. Just a little emberrassing, and I’d rather you not find out about it." Dropping my socks and shoes onto the floor, I set my bare feet down next to them, wriggling my toes and using them as a diversion so that I don’t have to look at him.

After a moment, he reaches into his pants pocket, pulling out a pack of cigarettes. I really wish he wouldn’t smoke in here. It’s bad enough when I have to be around it so much, but when he does that, the room still smells like him, even when he’s not in it. Obviously not a mind-reader, he puts a cigarette between his lips and lights it, looking towards me. "I’d feel better about this if you’d just tell me what it is you’re going to do with that folder."

I mull this over in my mind for only a second before realizing that there’s no way I can tell him. Regardless of the fact that it will get us more money, it’s still not a generally accepted thing to do. Him being a priest, it’d be damn disgusting if I told him I was going to dress as a woman to earn some cash. I frown a moment, still staring at my shoes, before standing and clutching the folder once more. "Maybe I’ll tell you after I’m done, so that you can’t try to talk me out of it." I quietly head towards the bathroom for a shower before tending to my new duties.

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[Wolfwood]

Damn him. Stupid broom head. Dumbass. Moron. Jerk. Dick-head.

I would be fine with it, if he’d just tell me what he’s going to do. I would. Really. It’s just the simple fact that he won’t tell me that’s got me so upset. He’s a damned moron. Can’t trust him to make decisions on his own. Lord knows trouble follows him wherever he goes. I would hardly be sane if I believed he was out of danger.

As he emerges from the bathroom, now fully clothed, I dutifully bury my nose into the book that I haven’t actually been reading for the past hour. Still, I turn the page, trying to look as if I’m thoroughly engrossed as he rubs the towel through his blonde hair. Eyes glance up every now and then to catch a glimpse of him as he meanders about the room, picking up a few of the dirty clothes lying around (mostly mine) and putting them in the basket near the door. He turns around, hands on hips, and frowns at me. My eyes return to the book.

"You can stop acting like you’re reading. You’ve been on the same page for an hour now."

"No, I turned the page just a moment ago. Not very observant, are you?"

"Not many people read ‘War and Peace’ upside down. Is that one of your hobbies?"

"Yes." Hadn’t realized it was upside down. No wonder it was hard to concentrate on it.

"Well, I guess I’m heading out now. Dunno when I’ll be back, so don’t wait up."

Affirmative grunt. Eyes glance up. Damn folder is still in his hands...

I return to the book, ignoring him as he picks up the spare room key and walks out the door, shutting it behind him. Counting the seconds, I wait until thirty before tossing the book aside, slipping on a t-shirt and my shoes (forget about tying them) at the same time, and ease my way silently out the door behind him.

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[Vash]

He seems to think I don’t realize he’s following me. I quickly round the corner that leads to the employees’ rooms and make my way to the front desk. I catch a glimpse of his head sticking around the corner in a reflection off of the mirrors behind the counter and smirk to myself. He’s so cute sometimes...

"Can I help you?" I smile at the short, attractive young woman in front of me. Wearing a conservative business suit and a pair of thick-rimmed spectacles, she seems very nice.

I glance at her nametag. "Yes, Anna. Can you tell me where room 102 is?"

She gestures to the stairway at the left of the front desk. "Up the stairs, second floor, end of the first hallway." I nod, smiling, and make my way into the conference room to the left. As was to be expected, it’s quite full of people. Strangely, though, all of them seem to be dressed in odd clothing, most of it leather. I pay no mind to the group of people in the center of the room, instead making my way along the back wall. Finding myself in a tight corner behind a rather muscular man nearly twice my size and a short woman about half my size, I peer at the doorway. Wolfwood slowly peeks inside, and then disappears into the crowd. Grinning, I make my way back along the wall and out the doors. It was almost too easy to lose him.

Waving to the woman behind the counter once more, who seems to know what’s going on, I make my way up the stairs. Having never been in this area of the hotel, I have to admit that even the stairway is extravagent. Floors a plush crimson carpet and walls the color of creme, the handrail of the stairs a polished brass, each corner of the stairs spreads out into three seperate hallways. Upon reaching the second landing, I turn down the first corridor and begin looking around for the room.

My stomach does a strange flip-flop as I see some of the people out in the hallways. One woman passes me, bedecked in black, shiny, plastic-like fabric and carrying a whip. I can’t help but turn my head as she walks by and wonder to myself, just for a moment, how she keeps her breasts concealed within the tiny stretch of material.

Finally, near the end of the hall, I locate room 102 and reach for the doorknob, only to quickly retract my hand. A wave of fear suddenly washes over me, and I start to wonder if I can actually do this. Can I actually do this? It seems harmless enough, really, but who am I to judge? What is my basis for comparison? I don’t think I’ll be shot and killed, but... there’s still a hint of doubt in my mind that this is, unessentially, a healthy thing to do.

Just as I gather my courage to reach for the knob once more, the door flies open, revealing a woman dressed in what looks like nothing more than a bra and a pair of underwear. I immediately jump back from the door, covering my eyes. "I... I’m sorry. I must have the wrong room." Of course, I know it’s the correct room. The woman at the door is the same as in the pictures in the folder still held against my chest.

She grabs my hand and roughly pulls me inside, slamming the door shut behind her. I lower my hand hesitantly. Standing in front of me are two more women, dressed similarly, each of them looking at me as if I’m some sort of fine delicacy that they can’t wait to taste. I don’t think I’m liking this.

The woman who opened the door comes into view, a tall, thin brunette. In her hand appears to be a riding crop. She holds it out to me. Eyes shifting about nervously, looking at everything but her exposed body, I hesitantly take the riding crop from her. Once it’s in my hand, she immediately falls to my feet, kneeling down to kiss the top of my shoes. "Master!" she cries out with so much joy it’s almost upsetting.

I glance to the two women; one, a short, muscled red-head and the other a short, plump blonde. They also fall to their knees, bowing. "Master," they both sigh in unison. I retreat from them until my back is pressed firmly against the door. All three of them glance at me, and each other, in apparent confusion.

Feeling I owe them an explanation before I haul proverbial ass from the room, I swallow thickly and clear my throat. "Ladies, I... I don’t know what’s going on here, but..."

"Did not Mister Cole inform you, Master?" the woman in front questions, bowing to the point that her nose brushes against the floor.

"I was told I’d dress in women’s clothing for you and then leave."

She bows even deeper, if that’s possible. "Is it Master’s wish to wear women’s clothing?"

I smirk at that, scratching the back of my neck with the same hand holding the riding crop. "Well, not exactly, but... I was told I’d get paid five-hundred double dollars for doing it."

"Master wishes to be paid more, then?"

"No, just what I was promised."

She immediately crawls over to a bedside table and opens the drawer, reaching inside. As she crawls back to her previous position and kneels at my feet, she holds up to me a rather large wad of money. I stare blankly.

"Does not Master want the money?" she questions, barely audible due to the fact that her face is mushed into the carpet.

"That depends on what I have to do for it." My voice continues to shake, giving away the fact that I’m practically scared out of my mind and totally confused. Not that I wasn’t scared to dress in women’s clothing, but should these girls have other plans, I don’t know if I’ll be too willing.

There is a long silence, and I notice that the two women in the back are exchanging questioning glances, faces still pressed to the floor. Finally, the woman in front speaks up. "Master is to dominate us this evening."

"Dominate?"

"Rule us."

"Rule you??"

She raises her head just a bit before lowering it again and shoving the money forward. "Tell us what to do so that we can please Master?"

I laugh nervously. "Oh, is that all?" A heavy sense of relief washes over me as I step forward and grab the money from her. I really don’t know anything about this. I have no idea what’s going on, but if these women want me to own them for an hour or so, I’m sure I can figure out a few things to keep myself occupied.

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