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Shadow's Secrets, chapter 3 
7th-Oct-2007 05:44 am
Title: Shadow's Secrets Ch. 3
Author: Simone Black
Table #/Prompt #: Table #2, Prompt #15
Fandom/pairing: het/ Shadow (fem. fan), Peter Criss
Summary: Shadow invites Peter to her apartment before a night out
Rating: R
Warnings: drug use and some foul language
Disclaimers: This is a fictional work only. The band gives no permission/ is not involved with said story.

Back at my apartment, I was less than thrilled. I had to do something instead of pacing, drinking and falling asleep with a lit cigarette in my hand. I didn’t live on the skids, but nonetheless, I didn’t want to stay in my apartment for much longer. I imagined moving in with Peter, but no girl asks that of a man. I decided to give Jane a call. The phone rang and rang and I knew she was home, due to her recent unemployment. Finally, after about twelve rings I heard a grunt.

“Jane!” I screamed loudly into the speaker.

“What? Mom?”

“It’s Shadow, dumb ass.”

“Oh, hey! Good for you. You’re in love. Awe!” she cooed. “I told you it would work out.”

“No, Jane. This is bad. I dreamt and said the L-word in my sleep. He freaked out and shook me awake and said the same thing,” I shook my head in agony.

“Come on, girl. After all those KISS shows we went to, I know you had a thing for him. So just admit it,” she coaxed me.

“Goodbye, Jane,” I hung up the phone and started to get dressed. No more than two minutes later, the phone rang.

“What?” I expected more teasing from Jane.

“Good morning to you, too, sweetheart,” Peter laughed.

“Oh, um, hi,” I said nervously. “What can I do ya for?”

“What are you doing tonight?”

“I’m bartending at Rick’s from 3-11 tonight. Why?” I knew why.

“Well, I wanna take you to this blues club tonight. Maybe I’ll pick you up at your place, say, around 12:30?” he sounded hopeful.

“Sounds great. See you then. Wait, how do you know where I live?”

“Jane,” we said simultaneously and hung up.

Back at work things were quite the usual. It’s my job to handle dicks who can’t keep their filthy paws off me. It’s my job to serve them drinks, which only encourages them. It’s not my job to spray out the water when shit gets out of hand. I’ve lost a customer? Big deal.

Around shift change time, I heard a raspy voice, “Bartender! Bartender! Yo, girly!”

“What?” I turned around to spray water, but discovered Peter sitting and waiting for me. “What’ll it be, sexy? I thought you were going to pick me up at my place.”

“Jack on the rocks, and uh, I wanted to walk you home, watch you undress, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera,” he winked.

“Rick! I’m outta here!” I grabbed my bag and headed for the door, when I was grabbed by some skin headed idiot.

“You’re not going anywhere. You were supposed to keep the shots going.” Apparently Peter was packing. He took the .45 from his back and twirled it around his finger.

“You sure about that?” he raised his eyebrows.

“Hey man, I was just jokin’ around,” and the fuck backed away.

“Thought so,” and we walked out with his arm around my waist. Walking back to my apartment was a bitch and a half. I had been on my feet all day. You’d think they’d put a fucking elevator in this god forsaken place. Around the third floor, I sat down and took off my shoes. “You would take your shoes off in this place? C’mon, hop up on my back.” We finally arrived at my place, the messy 4B. “Nice place you’ve got here,” he chuckled, “When’s the maid coming?” He looked in my closet, “Are you a stripper or something?”

“I used to be. Don’t you remember?”

“Remember what? Not in high school… oh! You were at one of KISS’ hotel parties.” He fell back on my bed, laughing. I put on an Aerosmith album and began to undress. There it was again. The stupid neighbors were knocking on my floor. “What the fuck?” We began jumping up and down, as I always do.

“There’s some kind of crack den downstairs. They do this every time I put music on.” I sighed.

“Well, they won’t mind when I drop this thing down there on their balcony and call the cops, will they?” He pointed to his shoe. There was a large piece of gum stuck with a needle dangling off of it.

“Oops, my comedown from work has come up,” I hid my face. He stepped onto my balcony, hung his foot over the guardrail, and scraped off the gum along with my not-so-new heroin needle, landing perfectly on their balcony’s chair. Meanwhile, I called the cops, “I was just standing outside,” I sniffled, for the extra effect. “And my kid began crying because she saw a needle on our downstairs neighbors’ balcony,” I cried, “Filled with blood… oh, what is this world coming to?” They asked me for my address to which I started panicking. “I’m afraid to say. They’ve threatened to kill me and my child. All I can say is that they’re in apartment, 3B. Yes, thank you officer, for everything.” I hung up and we burst out laughing when the sirens came. We turned off the music and put our ears to the floor. Apparently, eight arrests were made, and everything was confiscated.

“Ok, that’s not your comedown drug anymore, and this is not your apartment anymore,” Peter said.

“Why? Where am I supposed to go?” I knew full well where this was going.

“You’re moving in with me. Now can I lie down on this bed with you without any sharp pointed objects?” he smiled.

“I cannot resist that smile. Come to bed and give mama some suga’!”
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