Disclaimer: The Characters and situations of Wildfire depicted in this story are the legal property of ABC Family, Michael Pillar, and Christopher Teague and have been used without permission. No copyright infringement is intended. No profit is being made off this story and it is being used for entertainment purposes only.
Author's Note: Set about a year into the future, a Kris/Junior romance where everything starts off alright but disaster soon ensues. I'm not sure why I'm attached this show, but I am, and this is a product of said attachment. Read, review, and enjoy!
It's funny the way things work out in the long run.
How things you never thought could ever happen to yourself end up surprising the hell out of you and controlling your life. Kris Furillo-- up until the time she decided to unsuccessfully steal a car and get caught in the process-- had been a by the book girl. By the book meaning her book, written her way, which meant she was free to change the fine print any time she wanted. Which she did. A lot.
She had always been, for lack of a better description, the girl. The girl every guy wanted and the girl every other girl hated. As much as looking back on it now makes her cringe, Kris had, for a short time, been the Dani Davis of her former life. She had been the it girl and she had loved every damn second of it.
Mike Procell-- tall, dark, and handsome with a smile that was dangerous and beautiful both had a mint condition, ocean blue '67 Mustang and had-- for a very, very long time-- played it boy to her it girl. Kris had dug guys with great cars and he had wanted a girl that knew what the hell she was doing. She had been young and immature and she let the relationship-- as wrong as it was-- run it's course.
When she thinks about it-- which is a rarity in itself-- Kris can still remember how the scratchy material of the back seat had felt under the bare skin of her back.
How the smell of sex, lust, cigarettes and cheap beer had floated around them during meaningless kisses-- that she would sooner love to forget than relive-- and touching that was too harsh to be any where close to pleasurable.
Mike had been memorable in every she wished he weren't-- her first kiss, first boyfriend, first everything. Kris had known what he was after from the beginning-- she had never been a stupid girl and the signs had always been there right in front of her face-- and despite her instincts and gut that had nagged at her from day one, it had hurt like hell when he had left her after he finally got what he wanted.
Kris had assumed from the very start that Junior Davis-- the handsome, rich, playboy that everyone wanted a piece of within a hundred mile radius-- was all that and more. Kris had assumed that Junior was after the same thing guys had always been after when she was a apart of the equation.
Whether she had been right about Junior Davis was still up for debate, but if it held any weight-- she really hoped she wasn't.
It was, all in all, the sort of situation she never pictured herself in. Had never hoped to be in. It was the nightmare type scenario that every girl dreaded but secretly hoped would happen to them. It is the sort of thing-- after almost a year and a half of working with the Ritters-- that shouldn't be happening.
Kris knew from past experiences that secret romances, no matter who they involved, never worked. Were based way too much on physical attraction, and were a mistake plain and simple.
And the both of them knew it was a mistake, knew what they were doing could have a potentially damaging outcome-- not just for them, but for everyone the aftershock might effect. What they were doing-- as undefined and great as it was-- was stupid. Wrong.
Would never, ever work.
Not in a world where Dani hated her and Matt-- Junior's best friend and one of her closest confidants-- had feelings for her. No matter what the situation, no matter how far into the future they got, it would always be wrong. People would always see it as wrong. To everyone he was The Junior Davis and she… well, she was nothing to them. Nothing but the hired help who could not possibly be here for any other reason than to cause trouble.
Nothing but the girl who had come between the last chance of bridging the Ritter and Davis families together-- this of course, referring to the always doomed yet always fun to watch disastrous relationship of Dani and Matt.
And yet none of that mattered. All of those thoughts and problems that consisted in the world became less noticeable. Faded slowly but surely and eventually disappeared.
Nothing mattered as lips slid against lips soft at first, then harder the two moving out of primal, possessive instinct to create the almost ideal illusion of perfection.
That was the truth, she knew, it was an illusion. A well fabricated, very much believed in illusion, but an illusion none the less. It did its job and shielded them into a perfect, fairy tale world they both found addicting and alluring at once. And it would last for this short precious respite the two found in a world where no one would ever understand, but as time went on, Kris knew that sooner or later, just like the problems that had faded so would the illusion.
Slowly and surely and heartbreaking all at once.
Despite the how right their lips felt against the others. Despite the fact that their fingers intertwined and fit in all the right ways-- Junior Davis and Kris Furillo were nothing more than a mistake that was bound to result in deadly consequences.
And almost as if the same thought passed through their minds at the exact same moment kisses became fiercer, bodies drew closer, and in the small, confined space of Junior's black Porsche, the illusion the two had fought so hard to maintain held stronger than ever.
"What time to do you have to be back?" he tore his lips away from hers long enough to gasp out the words.
Yet it did not matter, her lips attacked his and within a mere matter of seconds they were both back to the primal groping and kissing session they had started at dawn just like every morning before.
Not at all a bad way to start her day, but deep down and in the back of her mind-- that was becoming less and less noticeable as kisses went on-- Kris knew that horses, and horseshit and Pablo were waiting for her back at the ranch. Even though she was no longer required by law to be there, she was responsible for being there and that mattered more than anything.
That and the fact that Jean Ritter had gone out on too many limbs for her in the past and was, to this day, number two on her list of people she never wanted to disappoint.
Kisses slowed for the time being. The deadly mixture of passion and lust quenched as groping was reduced to minimum. The little voice in the back of Kris's head was a nagging reminder that the earlier mentioned responsibility couldn't be ignored.
A groan from low in her throat escaped her lips as she tried to pull away from Junior. "I got to go."
He groaned too, the sound seeming much sexier than her own and a pang of something she had been feeling an awful lot lately shot through her like clockwork.
"No," is all he said, voice soft and dangerous at the same time as he kissed her slowly, leisurely, and ever so sweetly.
"Junior…" she tried with everything in her to move away, but Junior being the sore loser that he was fought her every step of the way.
"Come on, Kris," his voice was on the verge of a whine as he pulled her closer, digging the stick shift between them into her side. At first, many months ago, it had hurt and she had complained like no other. Now, it barely made a difference and was one of the many things she had allowed herself to get used to.
"If I don't show up," she began, meaning with everything in her to sound serious but failing miserably, "People are going to come looking. And when they don't find me," Kris smiled, her own form of the seductive Davis smirk he was so good at as she fumbled with the buttons of his hundred dollar shirt, "They are going to ask questions… questions that I was under the impression neither one of us wanted to answer."
Junior would relent-- he always did. And they were both only in this fight for the thrill of winning they were both sure go receive-- in their own ways-- and the making up that was bound to ensue. Which, after long, drug out, debates the both had decided was the reason they were in this situation to begin with.
Junior was a good kisser.
A very good kisser.
And Kris, according to Junior, was everything he was and more. And together they had decided that when their excellent skills were combined they managed to achieve the pure essence of perfection.
"Just ten more minutes," Junior said grabbing her hips and pulling her towards him.
"Five."
"Seven," he challenged, moving in to kiss her only to frown when she moved away at the last moment.
"Deal," Kris grinned like a predator ready to attack, climbing-- with an amount of grace and sexiness she had developed over the years-- over the stick shift and on to his lap, her knees resting on either side of his own.
Lips attacked lips. Hands slip under paper thin t-shirts that were thrown on in a haste the moment he knocked on her window that morning and unbutton perfectly buttoned buttons. It was seven thirty in the morning and she was due to report to Pablo at eight.
Both of them knew that seven minutes would eventually turn into ten. And those ten minutes would no doubt turn into fifteen.
But it really didn't matter.
Nothing mattered at that moment. Not with his lips against hers, soft and sweet and every bit as passionate as she wanted. Not with his hand that unconsciously found hers, their fingers intertwining and tightening as kisses grew greedier and hungrier. As the two of them felt their time together start to disappear.
Second after second. Minute after minute.
Sooner or later they would have to return to reality. Would have to face the lives that waited for them. Kris would have to think up a lie to tell when she turned up late, and Junior would have to return home and figure out a way to sneak upstairs without anyone noticing.
But for right then, for that moment, the illusion was still holding steadfast as the morning sun began to fully rise and settle it's warm gaze over them both.
And that, right there, was all that really mattered.