Sailor Moon Fan Fiction ❯ Dangerous Path ❯ Chapter 2 ( Chapter 2 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

Author's Note: There were some mistakes in the names in the first chapter. That was because I, at first, started this fic as an original one, but decided afterwards it would be better as a Darien/Serena story. Sorry for the confusion.

Thank you to all the people that have reviewed, it is very much appreciated.

Title: Dangerous Path
Chapter: 2
Rating: R/NC17
Genre: Romance/Drama/Humor/Action/Adventure
Author: Pure Euphoria
Summary: After a violent night, 17-year-old Serena Le Blanche is left homeless with no money. She has no choice but to go live with a LAPD officer until she can get back on her feet. But burning passion elopes them. She wants him. He wants her. But will her age stop whatever might've been?

Darien exhaled. 'Miss Le Blanche' was hot. Long curly hair. Blue eyes. Even with tear-streaked cheeks and the whiteness of the room bringing out her pale skin, she was smokin'.

"Yo, Darien. You cool, man?" asked Jordan.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Why?" countered Darien, forcing away his gaze from the blonde and settling his eyes on his smug looking partner.

"Nothing, you just looked like you were a thousand miles away, you know what I mean?" suggested Jordan.

Oh, what the Hell was wrong with him? He just broke off his engagement a few hours ago and now he was lusting after a minor? Since when did his life become so screwed up? More important question, what did he do to deserve it? He shook his head to clear his thoughts from his mind. He didn't have time for this, not when he was in the same room with a murder victim.

"Hello, I'm Jordan Smith and this is my partner Darien Parker," started Jordan. The girl nodded slightly in acknowledgment and hugged her knees closer to her chest.

"Now," Jordan continued, " we have been called out here due to some complications." He paused, a signal for Darien to take over.

"Er - you're underage and you refuse to go to the orphanage, am I right?" The girl nodded. He took that as a sign to continue.

"I see," Darien took out the file he grabbed from Lt.'s hands as he made to his car. Opening the pastel folder, he scanned the information.

"So, you just came to LA from France, right?" The girl nodded again.

"You speak English?" interrupted Jordan.

This time Serena raised her head. "I don't think I would understand your questions if I didn't, am I right?" she looked at Jordan then at him. "I'm originally from France, when I was 10, my parents, my brother and I moved to New York. Four years later, both of them were killed in a bank robbery. My brother, who was 20 at the time, decided they should be buried back in France. After the funeral, my brother and I decided to stay in France for a couple of years." Serena paused and seemed to ponder on something for a moment before continuing in the same monotone voice.

"Yesterday, we landed in LA, checked into a hotel for the night. Carlos didn't have any time to make a bank account, so all the money we had was with us. About at 2 in the morning, a knock came at the door. The door was opened and I was pushed inside and three guys, all in black clothes with those cutout hats, came in, dragging Carlos.

"The three of them all had guns and a couple of knives. The leader, I think, told me to give him all the cash I had or he would shoot my brother. I did. I didn't want to take any chances. After that, Carlos began to regain consciousness. He looked around and registered on what happened. He tried to stand up but one of the guys put a gun to his head and told that if he wanted to live, he was going to have to listen to them.

"I guessed they already took the money Carlos had because one of them was carrying a small black bag filled with cash, no doubt. One of the guys eyed me and said to the leader that 'there was more than money they could get from me'." Serena collapsed into sobs.

Jordan and Darien exchanged a look, neither sure of what to do in a situation like this.

"Did you tell this to the Detective?" asked Darien, putting a hand on her shoulder, giving her sympathy the only way he knew. She nodded her head but didn't say anything.

"They didn't do anything, right?" asked Jordan.

"No, when they tried, Carlos began protesting and tried to fight the leader. But they shot him, and the sound of the shot was loud and it was, no doubt, going to wake up the people in the next room, so they had to flee."

The door opened and Detective Rodney entered the room. "Officer Parker, Officer Smith, may I have a word?" Darien wondered if he should leave her in this state of distress, but followed wordlessly out the room.

"Hey, Rodney," started Jordan, "you say that she needs a place to stay, right?"

Detective Rodney nodded his head but didn't look too happy at being addressed by 'Rodney'. "Yes."

"Well, Darien here has a spare room after I moved out a year ago."

It was true, he couldn't find anyone compatible enough to give them a chance. He agreed on a couple of people, who, after a week of living together turned out to be a disaster. One was a party animal with the music blaring and a crowd of friends. And Darien needed a quiet place where he can rest peacefully after a long and tiring day at work. Wait a second, did Jordan just volunteered his place?

"I'm sure that Miss Le Blanche will be very appreciative," announced Detective Rodney happily. "That is if you don't mind, Officer Parker."

The Detective's gray eyes settled on the troubled officer. It was true that he had a spare room but did he really want a minor for a roommate? It wasn't too long that he finished college himself, but she was probably still in high school. The two things his life revolved around the past year were Danielle and his work. Maybe he should let her stay with him, he needed to lay back and relax a little, after all, and he was only 25 years old.

"All right, Detective, it's no problem," he uttered. Why did he feel he was going to regret making this decision?

The detective and the two police officers returned to the room where Serena Le Blanche stayed. "Good news, Miss Le Blanche, we have found you a place where you can stay for the next couple of months." Darien knew that if Rodney said 'Miss Le Blanche' once again, he was going to strangle the detective.

"I'm not goi--"

"No, not the orphanage. Officer Parker was kind enough to propose the offer of staying in his spare room for the time being," smiled Detective Rodney.

Serena's gaze shifted from the heavy detective to the young cop. She cleared her throat and muttered, "Thanks."

She felt slightly uncomfortable, possibly because it was probably a pity offer. Damn. She hated pity, mainly because when her parents died, it was all she got. Not many could relate to her dilemma, so they couldn't show sympathy. It was extremely annoying. But, it didn't matter now, she needed a place to stay. If it was a pity offer, then screw him.

"Uh, do you need any help packing?" asked Officer Parker.

"Yeah, 'cause we'd be happy to help you," piped in Officer Smith.

"Just because I'm in a hospital, doesn't mean I can't pack my own things," answered Serena, "besides, I don't have that much."

"All right, then that's settled. Now, Officer Parker, we need you to fill out some paper work," said the detective, scratching his chin thoughtfully.

"Okay."

With that, the three men left the room and Serena climbed out of bed to get dressed. She took off the hospital nightgown and laid it out on the bed. Naked, she strutted to the chair where her jeans and shirt were rested upon. Serena dug through the clothes and found her white, cotton panties, slipping them on.

Two minutes later, she stood dressed, except for her missing shoes. Oh, God, she felt like throwing up. The pain just wouldn't go away no matter how hard she tried to forget about it. She had lost all of her family, and never in her life did she feel truly alone and vulnerable until now.

Serena kneeled down and picked up her Nikes and white socks from under the chair. Putting them on, she continued to make her way to the two packed travel bags, in which most of her belongings were stored in. Taking hold of the handles, she dragged them to the door.

She turned the handle and filed out, her suitcases following. The three men were in view, and Officer Parker was filling out a sheet. He seemed young, in his mid-twenties, she guessed.

"All right, Miss Le Blanche, best of luck. I will contact you if I make any progress in you brother's case."

The burly man smiled. She felt like crying. Her brother was dead. Dead. She was never going to talk to him or see him, except for the pictures she had of him. But that wasn't the same. But instead, she plastered on a big smile and nodded, "Great."

The two officers each took one of her bags and ushered her out of the hospital. Serena walked towards the black Mercedes. Cars, really, had no special effect on her like most women. Just because a man had a beautiful and expensive car didn't make his a possible candidate for a date with her. If he had a great car, good for him.

Getting into the back seat, she listen to the engine roar to live and the car speed out of the parking lot. What was going to become of her now? She had no one to turn to. What was she going to do when she turned 18. She didn't know anyone here. This whole place was foreign to her, and she was forced to adapt to it very quickly.

The scenary passed by briskly as Serena further thought about her situation and what she was going to do about it. She had to find a job right away. There was no way she was going to live with this--this cop longer than she had to. But right now, all she wanted to do was get some sleep, anything to lull away the throbbing headache that made her feel as if her head was splitting apart.

The car jerked to a stop and Serena lifted her buzzing head to look around her surroundings. Judging from where the car was parked, Officer Parker lived in a one-story house. It looked small, but homey. But then again, what the Hell did she know about houses when she wanted to be a hairstylist.

With that, another thought struck her, how was she going to pay for college? She had to enrole in the nearest high school since she hadn't graduated yet but when the time came, where was she going to get that kind of money? Her life had completely turned upside down in the last 24 hours, so why not add more. What did it matter, now that everyone she had loved was gone. That thought left her in a state of depression.

"Hello?" A hand waved in front of her face. She looked up at the owner. It was the other cop. What was his name? Seth? Mith? Smith? Smith.

"Officer Smith," acknowledged Serena quietly.

"Aw, man, call me Jordan. Officer Smith makes me sound old," grinned Jordan.

"You mean you're not?" mocked Officer Parker. He turned his gaze on her and extended his hand. "Call me Darien."

Hesitantly, she shook his hand. "Serena Le Blanche."

He opened the door and she climbed out. With each movement, her head buzzed in a painful manner causing her to grip it tightly to avoid the pulsing pain.

"You cool, man?"

"Yeah," she managed to answer.

Darien opened the door and hauled the two travel bags inside. Jordan motioned her to follow.

Once she stepped inside, the only thing she wanted to was sleep, and she hoped that Darien and Jordan were not going to drag the introduction part longer than necessary.

"Sorry for the mess," said Darien.

"Um, where's my room?" She didn't mean to sound rude but they were acting like she didn't just witness her brother's death and was here as a normal guest. She paid no heed to the appearance of the house as it was, for the time being, the least of her worries. Serena just wanted to curl up and mourn her dead brother.

"Yeah, the one on the right."

Darien motioned to the white door. Serena, not needing any further invitation, grabbed her bags and made her way to the place she would sleep in for the next couple of months or so.

"Good-night," she called over her shoulder and slammed the door shut. Not bothering to take off her clothes, Serena fell on to the bare mattress and instantly fell asleep.

"Okay, man, come on."

"Huh?" answered Darien. "What are you talking about?"

"You know, the dinner?"

"Oh, yeah, I don't think I'm going to go," he replied.

"'Kay, listen, you need a distraction from all this Danielle shit, cool? So what better than coming over to my house and my pretty lady making us dinner? Now, come on, let's go," Jordan grabbed his shirt and made turn to drag him out the door. However, Darien shrugged off the hand and spoke up, "Okay, yeah, you got a point there but what about her," he indicated the closed door.

"'Miss Le Blanche'?" grinned Jordan at his immitation of the chubby detective. "Darien, don't be so dense. The girl just witnessed her brother dying, I really doubt she's going to come out of that room for some time." Seeing his doubtful expression, Jordan continued, "I'm telling you, man. Come on, just help me help you."

He sighed. There was no way to win an arguement with Jordan. "All right, but you have to promise to cut out all the crap."

Jordan extended his hand and spoke in a cheesy British accent, "Pleasure dealing business with you."

Brushing past him, Darien shook his head, "I just wonder if you will ever grow up."

The whole ride, Darien spent thinking about why he got involved with Danielle in the first place. Why did he go looking for something more? He had an over-active sex life with women asking him out on every corner. Why couldn't he just find some average city girl instead of going for the big cheese. He realiazed, after asking Danielle to marry him, that she was way too classy and sophisticated for him. There was no way that she would even consider going to a fast food place or to an amusement park to safe her the embarrassment of being caught in a place where only common folk go to.

Her style was a style of the rich people. And he had enough of it from his childhood to last him a lifetime. A jerk pulled him out of his reverie as the car was put to a stop.

"Darien? Hello? What's with you spacing out all this time, huh?" asked Jordan, somewhat annoyed.

"Sorry." Oh, boy was he sorry that this whole past year and a half turned out the way it did. He climbed out of the car and made way to the small house. That was the only way to describe it. On Jordan's salary and what little Terry made as a landscaper, it was all they could afford that acquired all the necessities for their baby, such as a backyard.

Jordan opened the door and stepped aside to let him through. "Jordan," smiled a small woman. "Oh, hey, Darien. Well, I'm glad you're here. Come on," she led them to the kitchen.

Darien followed the couple to the kitchen, from where dilicious smells were coming from.

As he entered the small room, he gaped at the person sitting behind the wooden table.

Danielle.

"What the Hell are you doing here?" he demanded.

"Whatever do you mean, darling? Can't I come over to dinner to my fiancee's friend's --" she paused and looked around the small place in a criticizing glare, "house?"

"Damn it, Danielle, I am not your finacee anymore," he shouted in anger. What was it with women these days, couldn't they tell when a man didn't want to be with them? And they say men are blind.

"Do you mind giving us some privacy?" jeered Danielle, looking at Terry and Jordan as if they were mice. The couple left the kitchen, although not before Jordan casted a hateful glare on his former fiancee.

"Well," she stood up and strutted his way in a seductive way, "now that we're alone..." she trailed off.

"Danielle, I said it to you plain and simple, the engagment is off," he groaned as she pressed herself against his length. Dammit! He managed to push her away and stepped back to regain the control that was slipping through his fingers.

"Danielle, dammit. What the Hell do I have to say or do for you to understand that I'm not going to be with you anything, that our engagment is off?" he yelled.

Crossing her arms over her chest, she tilted her head and looked at him. "Really, Darien. There's no need to lose your temper. You know that there's a young brat in this-this-this shack. I read somewhere that they shouldn't hear this sort of stuff," she lectured.

He couldn't believe his ears. What the Hell was she doing, lecturing him when she followed him around thinking that they were still engaged when he told her loud and clear that it was off. Why was he even stressing himself about it? It wasn't his fault she was so thick-headed that she couldn't she the damn truth when it was staring her in the face.

"I think you should go now," he indicated the door.

"Darien, we will talk about this. You are my fiancee and I'm not giving you up, remember that."

With that, she was gone and Darien was left alone in the kitchen to be tormented by his thoughts. He needed sleep. With a quick goodbye, he was out the door and on his way home in his black Mercedes.

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