The club’s flashing lights and pumping speakers had been put to rest, but Gaffey stayed at the bar. Someone slid into the seat beside her and she turned, surprised to see Wild Wes, one of the stage’s headliners, sitting there. He looked different in clothes.
“Where’s your smile today?” he asked, in an accent like Ellie’s; she’d never heard him talk before. “You usually come in here with a smile.”
“It’s in the shop,” she said, slumping again.
“Getting fixed, I hope.” He leaned down to her. “Folks look hotter with a smile.” He sat straight again, beaming his own white, perfect teeth, and announced with a proud puff of his chest, “Miss Moxxi taught me that.”
She pressed her lips up, but it wasn’t very genuine. “Miss Moxxi looks hot all the time.” She added with quiet envy, “So do you.”
His face went slack, and he peered close to her again. “Is something wrong?”
She sighed. “No.”
He shifted in his seat to face her with his whole body – his whole tall, gorgeous, heavenly body – and shook his frosted curls. “No. No, you’re wrong. See, I’m really good at reading people, and I can tell you’ve got something on your mind.”
This time, she managed a short smile for his effort. It didn’t last, though, for reminder of why she was sitting here in this club in the Beatdown in the early hours of the morning, after closing time, alone. Or, mostly alone, anyway. Alone for all that it mattered.
“Nobody ever thinks I’m hot,” she told him, and pulled a grimace for a guttural mimicry of her friends’ voices. “It’s always, Ask Gaffey to help, Gaffey’s so smart, Gaffey can fix anything. It’s never, Gaffey’s gorgeous! I’d love to do her! I’d love to get in her pants!” She huffed. “Just once, I want to know what it’s like to be the hottest chick in the room. Just once!” she said, jabbing her finger in the air. “I don’t think that’s too much to ask!”
He sat there blinking at her, his mouth hanging open a little in a look of blank surprise. Then, he closed his lips, drew a breath, and murmured, “It’s not as great as you think.”
She scoffed out the side of her mouth. “Yeah, right.”
“No, it’s true! People come in here every day, hooting and whistling and throwing their money at me, but as soon as I walk off the stage, they’re on to the next guy. Nobody talks about Bear knowing everything about the lights and sound system, or Aleksei being able to balance the books. They just think, Wow, that’s a hot body up there, and take the rest for granite.”
She sniffed a tiny smile. It was granted, but she didn’t correct him; his sentiment was too nice for that.
He smiled, too, gently. “That’s better.” He leaned close to her again. “I like your smile. It’s real pretty.”
She showed him a wider one. “Thanks.” She held out her hand. “I’m Gaffey.”
He took hold of her fingers and pumped them, once. His hands were cool and soft, but his grip was firm. “Nice to meet you proper, Miss Gaffey. I’m Wes.”
“I know,” she said, giggling under her breath; he was her favorite to see on that stage. Her favorite off of it, now, too. She nodded to her glass. “Can I buy you a drink?”
He shook his head; those curls framing his brow had never looked so stroke-able. “Oh, I don’t drink. Except for kaffe,” he said, his twang swinging up in a hopeful lilt. “Would you like to get some kaffe?”
Her heart pattered. “I’d love to,” she said, meaning every word even if it wasn’t a euphemism for sex. Though, she kind of hoped it was.
A short and simple Gaffey/Wes fic, because I really want to see the little lady get her man, just once.