sicpowered

er, rather pesky ninjas. best defeated with longwinded disertations on the nutritional value of carrots and other ground dwelling tubers and roots. as opposed to the cloud dwelling kinds, specifically the rare and elusive ionic potato of the strato turnip. ok apparently i'm in no good shape to be posting anything vageuly coherent, so lemme see what i can dredge up here from the vault of not quite wondererous thing, that have some cool qualities but are defenitely not technically wonderous, tm...


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Merlot

Are your done? Samantha smiled. Her wine glass reflected the candles on the table, the chandelier, and the candelabra scattered about the room. The restaurant was sprinkled with patrons, but she and I were alone, in an auburn sea of golden flickering stars. I sat motionless, stricken dumb by her question.
No. He responded.
Well, your glass is empty, and your plate is cleaner than the busboy could make it. Samanthas lips parted gently and graced up against the rim of the wineglass as the red liquid slipped into her mouth. Mr. Giovannis head was on a swivel, seemingly destined never to sit still or face forward. His glance darted almost imperceptibly, methodically scanning the room for a threat or an opportunity. His mouth hung in that stupid smile. I think youre stalling, she said, I think you are nervous about what happens when we get back.
Im enjoying myself, dinner isnt done yet. The bottle is not yet emptywould you care for another glass?
Yes. Her words flowed like honey, like the caress of a cool wind against my burning face. I should have been concentrating on everything else, but all I could see was her eyes, all I could hear came from her lips.
Im looking forward to tonight. Hed been practicing that look for a month. Fucking mouth breather.
The glass swayed gently in her hand, the contents oscillated back and forth, and she stared at tiny points of light in the reflections. I stared at her, so exquisite, so delicate and strong. Her normally flowing red curls were trussed up over her head by an array of thin gold wires, exposing her long neck, her pale skin. A black dress, made of a material that hinted at ribbons in the wind, draped from her shoulders. Her lips, moistened and burnished with wine, parted and closed as she relished the drink. Her eyes widened slightly as she spoke.
Hmm, what are you thinking about? Her smile was barely visible behind the rim of the glass, more wine slipping past those beautiful lips. She was looking at him again, and my hand was like cold iron as it gripped my knee. You must be thinking about something grand, with that clever little look in your eye.
Mr. Giovanni stuffed another piece of bread into his mouth and then smiled dumbly, unaware as ever as to how much of an ass he really was.
Just looking into the sun. I whispered. She was staring at me staring at her. This had to be taking forever, and I loved the anticipation.
She glanced about the room, slowly absorbing the ambiance; the glint of the bronzed metal matched the look in her eyes. Mr. Giovanni dropped his glance down her body. His eyes flitted about, like a small bird looking for a place to land. When Samantha looked back at him, he invariably looked away. I couldnt really fault him, half the east coast crowd wanted him dead. From cops to family, some even said the CIA had tried to hit him twice. Thats why he paid us, handsomely.
She reached across the table and slid her slender hand across Mr. Giovannis cheek, her other hand gently resting on the perfect curve of the half empty glass. I stared at the curve of her long pale torso stretched out before me, graceful as a cat with the texture and color of liquid porcelain. My mouth hung slightly open, as if to speak, but I was left dumb by the sight of her, barely more than an arms length away. Mr. Giovanni could afford more in one evening than I could in a year, and Samantha was the proof.
I think we should go soon. I think you should take me back to the hotel she said.
Mr. Giovanni looked at me and I nodded robotically. Another man stood then another and another, each as hard and as deadly as I. Black suits moved in a concert of defense, towards the door and a waiting car. She looked at me and winked. The glass in my hand trembled, gentle ripples bouncing around the surface of the water. My stoneface cracked into a small awkward smile, filled with wonder and joy. She got up and I started afraid to move, afraid to stay still. In but a moment my moment was gone, Mr. Giovanni left with her on his arm, his tense head above a cool and calm body. As they moved around the cherry colored wooden frame of the doorway she glanced over her shoulder while laughing at the same joke hed told her twice already. Her eyes shined blue and clear. I stood, moved two steps to the table and drank the last of her drink. Under her napkin was a key, and I followed smoothly, and quickly.
Ten minutes to the Hotel, five to clear it, another ten to get him into the room. The entire time, professional chatter in my ear, I stood by the front door, sending commands. I could see the relevant schematics of the Hotel De La Rosa Grand in my minds eye, and the names of my little band flowed to there appointed stations. Vito and Vin kept pace with Mr.Giovanni, Samuel cleared the room, and Patrick, more commonly that fucking Irish boy, locked down the car and the garage. A half a dozen other rough gentleman scattered here and there. Pulled in, watching my mental check list fall cleanly into place, I relaxed and waited. It looked to be a long night for me, all said and done.
The moment came when he called for her, easily three minutes before everything was settled in. I swore under my breath. The bastard must really have a hard one for the girl. The thought sent my stomach into full power over drive. Id probably need a dozen Malox before the night was through. Vin was supposed to escort her up, but he was still securing Mr. G. I moved to the elevator, and told the Fucking Irish Boy to cover the front. Tonight was not supposed to be complicated, but it was.
She stood there next to a suit. One of our guys, whos name would never mean anything to me. I watched him fidget as I approached. I studied the common room in all its empty glory. I stared down some plant next to the elevator, then the doorframe to the right, anything to avoid losing my cool. I knew if I looked into her eyes again, an hour would go by in her wink. The doors slide open, we stepped through.
I pushed the button, the door began to close and she leaned against the back of the mirrored wall. I turned to glance, more by reflex, and she stared right into me. Her long frame, slightly reclined, those ice blue eyes penetrating my resolve. She smiled at me, because of me.