Addicted to Love

Sun flooded Grace's eyelids as she hesitantly woke up from a deep sleep. She nestled her face in the pillows, becoming coherent little by little. She smiled, her eyes still closed, when she remembered that Michael had come home last night. She rolled over a little bit, expecting to be met with his warm and strong body. She frowned and opened her eyes when she realized nothing was there.

She got out of the bed, tiredly slipping on her bra, Michael's white v-neck, and a pair of gym shorts. She was alarmed by the cold tile against her feet, but followed the noise of Michael's voice to the kitchen. She was relieved to learn that she wasn't crazy, and that last night hadn't been a hallucination. There, in all his ginger glory, was a shirtless Michael Fassbender. His jeans hung loosely at his hips, revealing his defined back dimples. Grace sat down at the kitchen table waiting for him to finish up his phone call.

He turned around at the noise and took a few steps towards the table. "I'll see you later. Okay. Bye." He hung up the phone and sat down next to her, bringing his chair extra close to her. "Good morning, beautiful," He said, softly kissing her cheek.

"Morning," She replied.

"Hey!" Michael said. "I was going to wear that," He smirked.

"It was the first thing I saw. Do you not like it when I wear your clothes?" She asked, filled with honest curiosity.

He furrowed his brow. "No, I love it. Come here, you." He pulled on her waist, settling her in his lap. "Listen, I have a proposition. The rest of the cast is coming back today, and they want to have a party."

Grace giggled upon hearing his Irish-accented version of the word 'party'. "What?" Michael asked, smiling.

"Nothing," Grace said, kissing his lips briefly. "You're just really cute, that's all."

He raised a single eyebrow. "Does that mean you'll come?" Her face dropped when she realized she hadn't thought of the real world at all. Normally it would be a good thing, but she had responsibilities.

"Shit, Michael! What time is it?!" She jumped up and ran for their bedroom.

"8:30," He answered, his low voice booming from the kitchen. His smooth and sometimes barely noticeable Irish accent couldn't calm her down. He slowly walked to the threshold of their bedroom, watching her frantically fly around the room. He was too amused to stop her.

"I'm so late! I don't know what I was thinking!" She exclaimed, throwing clothes around and running in and out of the bathroom. She was trying to get an outfit on while she brushed her teeth. It was safe to say she was failing miserably.

"Grace," Michael said calmly. This was too fun for him to watch, but he still felt a little bad that she was so stressed.

"Grace, darling." He walked over to her, her brown hair all over the place, toothpaste slowly dribbling down her chin, and her shirt hanging half in her skirt and half out. He laughed softly, placing his hands on her shoulders. "It's Saturday."

Her eyes widened, and then she relaxed. She went into the bathroom and spit out her toothpaste, then took off the wrinkled clothing and put her hair back into a ponytail. She came out of the bathroom and flopped onto the bed. "I'm so embarrassed."

He crawled into the bed, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her in so that she was against his body. "I think you need to go out with me tonight and have a good time."

Grace sighed. "Michael, I'm just worried. I don't want to embarrass you."

Michael knew that she was speaking of her introversion. A lot of new people and information at once and she got tired easily, overwhelmed with the urge to go back home and process everything. "Sweetheart, you don't embarrass me. If you want to leave, we'll leave."

"Okay." Grace nodded. She was doing it for him.

____

Grace had had a lot to think about between the time she had told Michael she would attend the party, and the time they arrived at the club. He informed her that this wasn't much of a party, but rather the cast getting together with whomever they wanted and all going to the same club. This completely changed Grace's choice of clothing. She opted for tight, black jeans, a white tank top with a red heart and Q to resemble a Queen of Hearts card, a cropped black leather motorcycle jacket, and gold, sparkling heels with hoop earrings to match. She figured if she was going to be finally introduced as Michael Fassbender's girlfriend, she wasn't going to look average.

Michael tightly held onto Grace's hand while walking down the comfortably humid streets of LA. He had chosen his normal style - the white v-neck with a black jacket and light jeans. They came upon a long line of people but he walked right past them. Grace enjoyed this feeling she was getting. She felt hot. She didn't often feel as confident as she did right then, but her hot boyfriend and hot outfit did the trick.

"Okay," Michael said cheerfully, stopping her when they got to a few feet of the door. He took both of her hands in his. "Now, my gorgeous girlfriend, if anything is bothering you, you tell me right away. If I'm introducing people too fast, tell me. Just tell me if anything at all is wrong and I will fix it. I promise."

Grace smiled widely at him, flattered at what lengths he was willing to go to just to make sure she was okay. "Thanks, Michael. I'm sure I'll be fine though."

He smiled, showing nearly all of his teeth. "Let's go in, then." He ushered her in, falling behind and placing his hand on the small of her back. House music, remixes of songs she barely recognized, filled her ears. The pungent smell of alcohol tickled her nose. The heat hit her skin and she felt alive. She felt good.

"Everything okay so far?" He whispered into her ear. She turned around and kissed him abruptly and forcefully. "Does that answer your question?"

"Not really, tell me more," He replied. She rolled her eyes. "Take me to your friends."

He took her hand when he spotted James. "Here's James McAvoy. I think you'll like him."

The blue-eyed man with a long brunette mane locked eyes with Grace and it seemed as if his entire face lit up. His crystal clear eyes pierced through her, but in a comforting way. "You must be Grace," He said, welcoming her with a handshake. "Michael said you were tiny but now I know that he wasn't exaggerating! You're wearing those impossible high heels and I'm still taller than you. I'd just like to thank you for making the short men of this world feel tall."

Michael worried about the abrupt conversation James had brought her into. He was about to interrupt when Grace took the lead. "You're welcome! I'm glad to be of service. Just don't use me as your armrest. That one gets old fast."

He was relieved when she seemed relaxed with James. He had to admit, he didn't know everything about being an introvert. He was still learning. He knew shy people, but as Grace liked to remind him often, an introvert is different from someone who is shy - a hard concept for him to grasp.

"Can I get you two something to drink?" James asked. Grace started giggling and James smiled his pearly white smile, too.

"Am I missing something?"

"She does that to me, too. Accents are a weakness of hers," Michael explained, squeezing her sides from behind her.

"Ah, well then you should date me. My accent is a lot more pronounced than Fassy's is," He smirked. "I'm just kiddin'. I have a wife. Beer? Martini? Cocktail? What'll it be?"

Grace kept her giggling in. She didn't want to seem stupid. "I'll have a vodka on the rocks, please."

"Jack Daniels for me," Michael said. James nodded and informed them that he would be back soon.

Michael returned his attention to Grace. "I giggle like a schoolgirl at accents because I don't know how you guys have them." She raised an eyebrow in mockery. "I speak perfect English and German."

"Oh yes, little miss perfect you definitely are, but don't let anyone else know. That's my secret." He was about to lean in to kiss her when he felt a tap on his shoulders. He turned around and saw none other than Zoë Kravitz smiling at him. Her smile gave him shivers, and not the good kind - the kind that gave you implications that she was always plotting something.

"Hi, Zoë," He said.

She licked her top lip seductively. "Hey, sexy."

He quickly turned around and grabbed Grace, pulling her swiftly in front of him. "This is my girlfriend, Grace."

"Hi!" Grace smiled, completely oblivious to the death stare she was getting from Zoë. Instead, she saw James having trouble getting through the crowd with their drinks. "Michael, go help James."

Michael had qualms about leaving them alone together, but she was getting along really nicely so far. He chose to trust her. Once he was gone, Zoë wasted no time getting around to her task of tearing Grace down.

"I didn't realize Michael had a girlfriend. He never talks about you," She started. Grace immediately recognized what was happening and shrugged. "It doesn't bother me."

"You're definitely not what I imagined he'd date either," She continued. "He seems like he would enjoy someone wild and outgoing."

Grace would've brought up the point that Zoë didn't know anything about her, but she thought about how Michael probably had talked about her before and she was going off of what he said about her personality. She looked behind the admittedly beautiful, exotic girl and saw Michael carrying her drink. She was sparked with an idea when the club began to play the newest Britney Spears song. She smirked mischievously, meeting him halfway and downing the vodka quickly. She took off the biker jacket and handed it to him boldly. "I'm gonna do something, okay? Just wait here and watch."

The electronically enhanced music filled her body. It was as if the sound waves were traveling outside of the speakers and directly into her, telling her exactly what to do. She fed off of the energy radiating from all of the people dancing. She enjoyed the sexy click she heard from her heels as she strutted to the narrow stage in front of the DJ's table. It was elevated so that everyone in the club could see you, if you were lucky enough to be up there.

She swaggered next to the DJ and smiled at him. "May I?"

He stared at her, raising an eyebrow and nodding. She climbed up and suddenly it was her against the music. Which could attract the club's attention?

"Lately people got me all tied up. There's a countdown waiting for me to erupt. Time to blow out." Britney Spears never knew Grace Bauer so well than in that moment. Her hips were swinging, her feet were moving, and everything was so unimaginably easy.

All of a sudden, the song was over. She was gleaming with sweat, awoken from a trance. It seemed as if there wasn't one person in the club who wasn't looking at her with envy or lust. She locked eyes with Michael and saw the lust. She found Zoë, and saw anger. Her job had been successfully completed. She carefully got down and ran through the crowd, laughing as she jumped into Michael's arms.

"You were fantastic!" He exclaimed. "I didn't know you had that in you." He rested his forehead against hers. His strong hands gently let her back down onto the floor.

"I," Michael tried again. It's not that hard, damn it. You know it's true more now than ever. "think you are amazing." He lowered his lips to hers. "Do you want to go home?"

Grace bit her lip, pretending to think about it when she knew the answer already. "I want to stay."