A Different Kind of Ballgame

Philadephia, Pennsylvania
Citizen's Bank Park
Age: 15

Tre slammed the girl up against the wall, his lips finding hers in an animalistic fury. Somewhere in the back of his mind he noted the cheers of the far away crowd, thousands of Phillies fans cheering, and the ringing of the bell and fireworks that meant a home run, but he had other things on his mind.

Hands groaping, he found the hem of her shirt, his hands slowly moving downward.

He was acutely aware of the man walking toward them from the back, but he showed no notice of him, half his focus derailed by the girl he was currently involved with. A low groan came from the back of his throat, and he pressed into her further, almost wishing they could continue this later, back at home, perhaps even in a bed...?

Just another day out with his partner.

Ashleen let out a slight moan as she found herself against the wall. She grinned against the boys lips as she hooked her arms around his shoulders helping him closer. Daddy certainly had neglected to explain this part of missions.

Then again, he had probably hoped that his 'Little girl' had found different distraction techniques.

Her hair was falling down around them both; she wasn't entirely sure where her hat had gone - she had definitely been wearing one before...

She let out a slight giggle that died into another moan as his hand slide past her shirt; she grabbed it, helping Tre find his way - not that he seemed to really need any help. She was rather inclined to not stop, but she knew with the approaching man it must.

Oh well, there was always next time she supposed.

God, her moans were distracting.

With a slight smirk as she helped him with her shirt, he reached behind her, pulling the gun out from where it'd been sticking out at the back of her jeans. Moving his tongue against hers teasingly, he swung around, aiming the gun at the man as he came level with them. Shooting him in time with the fireworks, he watched as the target fell, two bulletwounds in his forehead and chest.

Well, that was one less deserter.

He'd never moved his lower body, so Ash was still pinned, and he dropped the gun in favor of attacking her neck with his tongue. She had a sensitive spot just.... there...

"Get away cars here." He murmured into her skin. "We should go."

Ash let out another sound in the back of her throat, distracted for the moment, as he grabbed her gun. She flinched ever so slightly - barely noticeable unless someone knew her well - as the first shot went off.

That was the only thing she hated; the guns. She dealt with them, if she didn't she'd be facing one not holding it, but she was always a little more on edge with them around.

Of course any extra tension the gun may have given her was gone when Tre found that spot, just a little...

Closing her eyes she bit her lip, and when she finally spoke her voice was a little shaky.

"But Angel," she whined softly, eyes sparkling. "I lost my hat; it was my favourite hat."

Tre met her eyes, setting the girl down on her feet. "Well, I could always just buy you a new one." He said, his eyes searching the ground for it anyway. He searched his pockets for the hat, straightening his leather jacket as he did so, and scooping up the gun.

He got closer to her once more, replacing the gun where it had been after checking the safety and grinning. His golden eyes swirled with mischief, and he leaned closer once more, almost meeting her lips before he heard the sound of thousands of fans getting to their feet.

Seventh Inning Stretch.

Groaning, he moved away from her, taking her hand and leading her past the body. He paused to scoop up the Phillies cap off the ground where it must of fallen, and plopped it on her head. "Let's go."

"But it was my very, very, very favourite," she pouted some more, her eyes twinkling with mischief, as she looked around as well. She wasn't quite lying. She had liked that hat. "If we don't find it, you're going to have to make it up to me."

Of course she forgot about the hat again as Tre came closer, she eyed his lips hungrily, and her heart dropped with disappointment when she heard the feet.

She knew they had to go, but maybe they could have...

She reached out grabbed his collar and pulled him back to her.

"One more for the road," she whispered before crashing her lips to his and stringing her fingers in his hair. Pulling back almost as soon as they started - she was impulsive not stupid - she smirked and allowed him to lead her away, grinning as she her hat was returned to its rightful spot on her head.

"Well now," she smirked as they left the stadium and came up to the car, "I suppose I'll just have to thank you instead."

Tre blinked his eyes open as she pulled away from the kiss, groaning. "You are such a tease, you know that?"

A slow smirk spread over his face as he the back door of the old bright blue taxi van slid open. He grinned as he noticed that the two seats closest were down into the floor, their bag of weapons on the backseat. He slid into the van and offered a hand to help her up, settling himself on the floor once shed made it in. The door slid closed behind her, and the driver pulled away. Tre leaned back on his elbows, sprawled out on the floor.

"How exactly, do you plan to thank me?" He purred.

"Well of course I am Angel," she smirked slightly as she followed him, "I have to do something, otherwise you'd leave me for the next young thing the Mob brings up."

She was only half joking. Part of her always wondered just what he did when he went off with that friend of his - Ty. Not so much wonder - the girl grew up in the Mob after all - but wonder if ever, maybe for a moment he thought of her.

Of course, she'd never say that to him; that was not how this worked.

"Well now," she cooed slightly, flopping down right beside the boy, hovering just an inch away from his face, teasing him as she brushed some hair away from his forhead, "How do you want to be thanked?"

Tre grinned angelically, as was his forte, and raised an eyebrow at her, slowly closing the distance between their lips without actually giving her what she wanted.

"I dunno... have anything in mind?" He murmured, his voice dropping into a low purr. His golden eyes had darkened slightly as he looked her up and down. "Anything at all...?"

Ashleen stared down at the lips, smirking slightly. So he was going to play that? So long as Angel understood that two can play games.

"Well, you can tell me," she whispered moving forward so her lips just grazed his as he spoke, not quite a kiss, but enough to tease him, "What you want, and we'll just see if you deserve it."

Tre grinned. So she wanted to play a game, did she?

Careful not to let their lips move any closer, he pressed her back, rolling them over so that he was over her, pressing her into the bottom of the van with his hips and torso. "I might have... a few ideas..." He murmured, bringing their lips impossibly closer without actually kissing her. "Ready to give in there, Wings?"

She smirked as she found herself under him. Angel always did think he was so smart.

Slowly she wound her arms around his neck, playing with the ends of his hair.

"You need a haircut," she smirked, her eyes dancing, as she slowly hooked her foot up over top of his legs, bring them all the more closer. Now the only part of them that wasn't touching was their faces - their lips - which were still being carefully held appart.

Hooking her arms around him tighter, they were drawn so close that only a piece of paper could fit between their faces - and yet she was very careful not to touch. Bringing her one shoulder back she smoothly flipped the two of them around, smirking down at Tre's face.

Growing up wrestingly with the boys had its advantages.

"Never Angel."

Tre tried his best to fight back the groan growing in his throat as she flipped them. Why couldn't she just give up already? Resting his hands on her hips, he moved his lower body against hers, trying to pull a reaction from her. He slowly licked his lips, his tongue almost brushing hers.

"Aren't you going to thank me?" He asked, reaching behind her. "Or am I going to have to find your hat again?" He flipped the hat off her head, grinning as her golden hair cascaded around their faces. "Look, here it is." He murmured, returning his hands to her waist and rubbing swirls in the skin he found after ducking them under the hem of her shirt.

"Give in."

Ash shivered as his tongue flicked out, so close... She wanted to grab him tell him to stop moving or else, but then that would be the same as giving in wouldn't it?

But she so, wanted to give in.

A moan got stuck in her throat - it was a fight to keep it from coming out - and caused her next words to be rather hoarse.

"Well, I ain't going to thank you now," she whispered as her hair floated around her. "You're just being mean."

She smirked - as if! She'd gone this far, she wasn't going to cave, ever. She shook her head, enjoying the way the movement brought her lips even closer, almost as if she were going to give in, and then pull them away again.

"Not. Going. To. Happen."

Tre opened his mouth, perhaps to give in, perhaps to tempt her, when the van slid to a stop.

"We're here." The driver said briskly, knowing better than to glance into the back seat.

"Thank you Richard. You've been wonderful." Tre called, flipping the two of them once more so that he was on top and rubbing every part of him against her. That is, every part of him but his lips.

"Til next time, Wings." He murmured, before he was up and off of her, grabbing the weapons bag and slipping out of the already opening car door. He waited for her on the sidewalk as he tossed an impressively thick wad of cash through the window to the heavy set african american driver.

"Your service is always appreciated." He quipped.

"So's your money." the driver returned.

Once Ash was beside him, he led the way into the small door almost hidden on the corner, pushing his way inside. Three doors, four passwords, seventeen guards, and twenty positive identifications later, they stood in the room before both their fathers, Tre grinning from ear to ear.

He dropped the weapons bag in the corner with the others of the same kind, his smile never faltering. "Target was taken down as they scored the home run." Tre nodded to the TV in the corner of the lavish room. "The last one of the sixth inning."

Both mob bosses seemed pleased and Tre turned to leave.

"Not so fast, Angel."

Turning back, Tre returned his attention to the bosses.

"Word has come from Papa. You're to return to Russia in three days." Tre's vision tunneled, and he tensed. Back to Russia? He hadn't been there in years! Something kept coming back to his focus however... the girl standing beside him. His partner. Almost as if his father had read his mind, he continued. "Wings will stay here until further notice. Papa only wished for your return."

With a nod, they were dismissed, and Tre let her lead him out of the room.

Once outside though, he was pushing her up against the wall again and kissing her with reckless abandon. He didn't care if their fathers saw, he didn't care if it counted as him giving in, and he sure as hell didn't care that the security guards were whistling. All that mattered was his partner.

The one he'd be forced to leave in three days that seemed shorter by the minute.

Ashleen.

No. No. No.

They were lying, or-or-or- Tre just couldn't leave, he couldn't. What would she do alone?

She almost clawed at the boys hair as he pushed her against the wall, attempting to get him as close as possible. It suddenly seemed to be all that mattered. No more games or joking or-or...

"No," she mumbled against his lips not willing to waste the moment it would take her to move away to speak properly. "You aren't allowed to leave me."

Tre groaned, pressing into her further. If he could just- just... press them into one being, then they'd never be apart. His hazy brain didn't take the time to denounce the logic, didn't take the time to let him focus on anything other than her.

His mouth moved along her jaw and he murmured something along the lines of her name. "Even I can't go against a direct order." He lamented softly, his lips moving down to her neck. "Not from Papa himself." His lips had decided that they would memorize every inch of her, and his hips had yet to cease their movement.

"It won't be forever." He promised hoarsely. "We'll find each other again."

She shook her head. There may have been tears in her eyes, or falling down her face but she did not notice or care.

Ashleen let out a sound that was somewhere between a half-sob, half-moan as he pushed himself closer, trailing kisses along her skin. He was so close, and yet... that didn't matter now did it. He'd be gone soon anyways.

"Who cares about Papa," she mumbled childishly into he ear as her face hid its way into the crook of his neck, kissing the skin there softly. "I-I could hide away or-or-or..."

She let out a strangled laugh. It was ridiculous even to her own ears.

Ash pulled away from her hiding spot, her water blue eyes staring deep into his gold ones. "We better - Promise Angel. Promise me whatever happens, you're, we're going to find each other again. Please, Tre."

Hiding her somewhere seemed like a glorious plan. However, even in his semi-distracted state, he knew what the consequences would be. He would never compromise her safety for something as selfish as wanting her close to him. No matter how painful it was for either of them.

His hands reached up to cup her face, his lower body once more the only thing keeping her against him. His thumbs brushed away the few tears that dared to escape her beautiful eyes, and his gilded gaze never left hers.

"I promise." He whispered, capturing her lips in his. He let this kiss be slower, deepening it softly. His eyes fluttered closed, and he inhaled, breathing her in.

He'd need tons and tons of her if he was ever to survive without her.

She moaned as she leaned into him, wrapping her legs around his waist, her arms returned to their spot around this neck, threading themselfs in his hair once more, giving herself a firmer hold to pull him closer. She needed him closer. Now.

Maybe if she got close enough then, then she wouldn't be able to forget - she'd be able to survive...

"Tre, I think I l-"

There was a yipping sound from down the hall, and in a few moments there was a dog threading its way around their feet - or well Tre's. Hers were no longer on the ground. With the sound her words, mumbled breathlessly died, as she blinked down at her dog.

She rested her forehead against his, eyes closed as she gave a weak order for the animal to leave, her heart not really in it - not really in anything but the boy against her.

Tre moved his hips against her, deciding that he would just mush their souls together, that way nothing could seperate them, not even distance. He didn't stop and think what these kinds of feelings meant, nor did he ponder over her words. He was busy memorizing her, committing every inch of her to memory.

He shushed her, bringing them impossibly closer, even as thier dog... her dog... decided to twine around his legs. Briefly, he looked down, eyeing the dog with obvious contemplation. "Heaven." He greeted huskily. "I need you to take care of my Wings, okay?"

He met her lips again, the moment it took to look down at the dog already too long away from her. "Every Angel needs his Wings, right?" He murmured against her lips, not able to muster the strength to pull away.

Someone cleared their throat behind them, but he didn't take an instant to look and see who it was. Instead, he deepened the kiss, ignoring the man he knew was behind him.

"Angel." Said a gruff voice. A firm hand landed on his shoulder, and he was yanked away from her, the air between them burning. His golden eyes swirled in fury, but he bit his tongue. His eyes never left her.

For the briefest of moments, his focus returned to the man, Ash's father, noting the fury evident in his expression. Tre's mouth quirked up at the corners, his smile gristly, dark, evil, possessive. He inturrupted the rant with a growl, the older man's words brushing past his ears incomprehensively.

He raised a hand, the finger pointed directly at Ashleen as he met her eyes.

"Mine."

Ash let out a small half shreik half something else entirely as she heard the cough, pulling the boy closer. Her father couldn't - she wouldn't let him.

She floundered a bit as he was pulled away, putting up a fight but losing anways, sliding down the wall to the floor without him to hold her up. Heaven came sniffing up to her, and she mindlessly wrapped an arm around her, threading her fingers in her fur as she continued to look at Tre.

She met his gaze and point with a slight nod - only a slight fear of her fathers rage and power keeping her from getting up again.

"Always."

Tre blinked as her father once again grabbed his shoulder, brutally turning Tre toward him. He was still growling something, still ranting, though the rants had increased in volume somewhat... what was he... saying...?

"ARE YOU LISTENING TO ME?!"

"No." Tre answered truthfully.

The man seemed to puff up in rage even more, stretching back his hand to strike the boy, before Lord Beneparte interfered on his son's behalf.

"Treshawn." He heard as though from far off. "Take Ashleen and go pack."

Both men disappeared within the room once more, his father once again playing mediator. Tre was no longer paying attention to either of them. He was on his knees before Ash, pressing his lips against hers once more. He felt as if he'd held his breath since the time he'd touched her, and now she was filling him with oxygen. Pure, sweet, delicious oxygen.

Deciding to move to his room, just in case their dads decided to make a reappearance (more in fear of being pulled away from her again than fear of her father's anger), he scooped her up into his arms, folding her against him and moving by memory through the many hallways and corridors that led to his room. Heaven more or less led the way, knowing where they were going, Tre's brain only just managing to walk and continue to ravish her mouth at the same time.

Once inside the medium sized wreck of a room, he wasted no time in pinning her onto his bed, waving his hand dismissively at the door. Unnoticed by either of them, a bottle of water flew off his dresser and hit the door, sliding it shut with an audible click.

Tre mumbled something against her lips, maybe her name, maybe not, and pushed her down into the mattress, not satisfied until every inch of them was touching. His lips began to wonder once more, across her jawline, down her neck, nibbling at her collarbone. He wondered how long it would take for him to get used to not tasting her everyday, the idea of reaching that point almost stopping his heart.

"What am I going to do without you?" He murmured horsely. "How am I to fly without my wings?"

The girl grappled at him when he returned pulling at him like it was the only way she was going to live. Part of her brain felt as if it were true. She didn't understand how they could do this to her - how they thought she was going to be able to...

Ashleen moaned slightly as she was dropped to the bed, feeling him against her. She once more wrapped her legs around him, using them to hold him close, as her hands wandered, carassessing his arms, moving up to his shoulder blades, and then down his back. At some point they found their way under his shirt, making swirls on his warm skin.

Turning her head she kissed his forehead the closest bit of skin to her.

"You'll say safe," she murmered softly, closing her eyes. "And-and... you'll just need to get some wings of your own; to keep you flying until I can- we can-" she didn't finish the statment and instead went back to her kissing.

Tre groaned as her fingers brushed his skin, leaning into her touch and returning his lips to hers. His hands hand begun roaming of their own accord, taking refuge under her shirt to tease and memorize the bare skin he found there. His breath caught in his throat, and he attacked her lips in earnest, never wanting to let go of her.

Once again, he wondered how exactly this would work out with them an ocean and more than a few countries away from each other, when being centimeters from her caused him physical pain. Maybe he was just...

A low whimper forced itself from his throat, then his shirt was gone, thrown elsewhere into the room, and her shirt was being pressed up so that he could feel her against him. A sigh of almost satisfaction was pulled from his lips, and he met her lips once more, still not able to be away from her for longer than five seconds. Even five seconds was beginning to feel like a strain.

How would he last a day?

A week?

Months?

A Ye...?

Another groan, and he was trailing his mouth once more, determined to memorize.