Vices, Virtues, and Second-Hand Smoke

"What the hell are you doing here?"

Shanks turned around to give Kris a lopsided smile and a wink. "Well, since I didn't get to say goodbye this morning, I figured I'd stop by and say hello, instead."

Kris scowled and crossed her arms. "Cut the shit, Jove. What exactly did you want to talk about?"

Shanks sighed and leaned back against the railing behind him, crossing his arms to mirror her. "You aren't going to invite me inside?" When her scowl deepened, his grin widened. "I mean, are you sure this is where you want to talk about this?"

Kris opened her mouth, then snapped it shut. Shanks could see the gears in her head turning, weighing the options: on the one hand, she hated him. On the other, did she really think that she didn't have to hear what he had to say? And if she had to hear it, was outside of the apartment that Markus-- as Shanks knew, and he was sure Kris knew it, too-- tended to "hang around" when he and Kris had their little fights the best place for her to hear it?

Shanks wasn't even breaking a sweat. He knew exactly what she was going to decide.

And, sure enough, with a loud groan, Kris slammed her hand, open palmed, against the door behind her. Turning and wrenching the door open, she leaned through it and snapped, "Justin! Go take a walk!"

The kid was out in a second, probably looking to get the hell out of the way of his wrecking ball sister. "Call me when things aren't so nuclear, Kris." And, cutting around Shanks with a nod, he was gone.

Kris turned to scowl at Shanks, raking a fiery, pissed off look over him. "Hurry up."

Shanks pushed himself off the railing and winked at her again. "With pleasure, darlin'."

--

Justin yawned and pulled his shades over his eyes. It was the earliest he'd been up in weeks, but he wasn't about to sit around a war zone-- and he knew when his sister was on the war path. Besides, the view was worth it: the girls that hadn't been out partying last night were all up early enough to fit in a morning jog, and the sports bras and November cold were making Justin very happy, indeed.

"Oh, shit!" Justin spilled his coffee on his shirt and hissed, dropping the cup and ducking down to see the girl who he'd just walked into. "Are you alright? I'm so sorry, did I get any coffee on you?"

"'Oh shit' is right!" Bright blue eyes snapped up to look at him, and the short, blonde slip of girl that he'd walked into put her hands on her hips and scowled at him. "Watch where you're going, you spaz!"

Justin raised an eyebrow at her; he was covered in scalding coffee and he couldn't see a drop on her white tank top, beige yoga pants, or any of the skin inbetween. He felt bad for bumping into her, but wasn't about to take the verbal lashing on top of the coffee. "Look, I'm really sorry--"

"You should be! Do you even know who I am?" And, like the words flipped a switch in her head, her blue eyes cleared for a second. "Wait, who are you? I've never seen you around here."

Justin, caught off guard by the sudden change in attitude, raised an eyebrow and mumbled, "Uhh... do you know who Kristen Vice is?"

The girl wrinkled her nose, her mouth puckering up. Justin almost smiled; it would have been cute if she wasn't being a complete bitch. "Yeah. She's a smart skank."

"She's my sister." The awkward silence that followed was deafening, and before the girl could sputter out an apology, Justin was already walking away.

"Hey, wait!" Justin rolled his eyes and turned around. The girl was smiling awkwardly, still not fully recovered, but recovered enough to know that she had made a total ass out of herself. "What was your name again?"

Justin looked her up and down and, with a big smile, said, "Way too good for you, babe."

And, with a wink, he turned and walked away.

--

"Shanks, what the hell is this about?"

Kris rubbed her temples and leaned against her apartment door. It'd only been about five minutes, but her head was already ready to explode. And every time she looked at his shit eating grin, she wanted to kill him.

"About last night--"

"Stay on track," She cut him off, glaring at him. "You said this was about Markus."

Shanks leaned back against the back of her couch and grinned. "Well, let me put it this way. How do you think he'd feel about last night?"

Kris snorted. "Don't even try that. We aren't dating, and we weren't dating last night. And he's your best friend. Do you really think I'm going to believe that you're going to give up your best friend because I didn't kiss you goodbye after a night of hate sex in someone else's bed?"

For the first time, Shanks' face actually twisted at that, and Kris almost smiled. Before she could rub it in more, however, his grin was back and he was dragging a long, lingering look up and down her body. "You know, being his best friend-- and being bigger than him-- both exempt me from certain things he's willing to do to you." Kris froze when his look stopped on the thick bruise circling her arm. "What, did you really think his best friend didn't know? I've known the kid since middle school."

Kris brushed her arm and flinched. "What, exactly, are you here for, Shanks?"

Shanks pulled himself up, slowly and methodically, and grabbed her hand. Tugging her closer, and running his other hand up her side, he smiled down at her. She really was gorgeous; curly brown hair and big, light gray eyes, athletic and curvy. Shanks had slept with a lot of gorgeous girls, true, but something about her had managed to get into him-- and he wanted the image of her perfect little smile and foxy eyes out of her head for good. "A detox, sweetheart. That's all."