A/N: Sorry for making you all wait such a terribly long time. You're all great reviewers and I hate to disappoint. I've been wanting to write this for months, so now that school is finally over, updates will hopefully be a lot more consistent.

In this chapter, I'm briefly delving into Driver's past. Please let me know what you think and if I should continue with that aspect of the story. Also if you review, I'd love some feedback on my character consistency and overall tone of the chapter, I'm not sure I'm doing so well. And…this is the first thing I've ever written remotely…um…sensual as this, so I also need to know if that's ok.

Oh yeah, and this one's back in Driver's POV. Anyway, enjoy.

Not All Sharks: Chapter 4

I was sitting in Benicio's room helping him pack for the move. There were a few things he was willing to part with for the sake of a lighter suitcase, but the subject of toys was a completely different matter. Irene had told me that if anyone could convince him to lower his stock of toy cars and action figures, it would be me.

Well, that's gone as expected. We've been at this an hour and we've already packed two bins of toys.

I noticed Irene in the doorway a few minutes before she actually spoke. I'd looked back and smiled, seeing if she had anything to say, but she softly shook her head, content in just watching us. She's been quiet for a few days now, more so than normal. I know she's feeling a number of different emotions at once; loss, happiness, sadness, fear of endings, anticipation of beginnings.

I know how she feels. I need her to know that. But when do I tell her? Talking isn't one of my strong suits, but for her, I'd do anything.

"Can you two go to the grocery store? We need a few things." She said. I got on my feet and nodded, seeing how tired she was, seeing the worry in her eyes. I suppose this was something she could easily hide from Benicio, and maybe even Standard, but she couldn't fool me.

I looked back at Benicio still sitting on his bed, now playing with two action figures he'd dug out from one of the bins.

"You coming?" I asked, implying that if he was coming, he'd need shoes on. He stuck his tongue out at me and dashed into the hallway in search for his sneakers.

I looked back at Irene and placed a hand gently on her forearm. She looked up at me with eyes I knew had tears behind them. We may need to get more groceries, but she also needs a moment alone. I can only respect that. I glanced at my own hand caressing the exposed skin on her arm and wanted more, but knew it was not the right time. Before, all we needed was to be locked in a heated gaze, a touch of the hand, just the knowledge that we were together in the same room. We need much more now, after all that's happened, such small things are still nice, but not at all as reassuring. Is she afraid I'll be taken away from her? Has the change scared her? Is this all just too much for her?

When I think about it, it's almost too much for me. But I've lived too long without this peace. I've found treasure, and I'm going to keep it safe from lethal hands.

"We won't take long." I said quietly. "Unless you want us to."

She almost smiled, and I knew as she shook her head, she knew she could trust me with everything. I let my hand come up to her face and I leaned in to kiss her cheek. Once I did, she pulled away slightly and caught my lips with hers. It was more than chaste, but with no intentions of becoming deeper. It lasted a moment before I pulled back to look at her. I didn't have to tell her we'd talk later because I could tell she already knew.

When Benicio and I got to the grocery store, he picked a cart and waited for me to take it. Once I did, he hopped on the end, like I'd seen him do with Irene. I wondered if he'd done this with Standard, though he may have been too young. I wondered if he was really that comfortable with me to act like this or if he'd do this with just about anyone. He'd lived without a father so long I wondered if he even felt the absence. Or the gain.

I smiled at him, silently grateful that I had a reason to smile.

I don't recognize anyone here, but they obviously found something about us out of the ordinary. Their casual turns of the head and sideways glances were a little too long for me to take complete comfort with, though I knew they were all just curious. They recognized both Benicio and I, but don't know why we're together like this. A little narrow minded. I should know, I was exactly the same way once, some of its regretfully still in me.

This city has always been a little too small for me. I felt stuck as a kid, bound here by parents who didn't want me, friends who used me, and people that needed me. Maybe that's why I couldn't resist the temptation of driving as a kid. I drove everywhere, just to get away from it all. I raced, was a getaway car, got in some deep shit with the authorities, everything. I was a superstar among my peers, though, at least I was in high school. They feared me and needed me all at once. It was called respect back then, now I don't know what the hell it is.

But there's a reason I made my rules. I had to learn from my mistakes if I wanted no strings attached. No guilt. But I don't even remember what I wanted back then. Maybe I never knew.

Blood was never something I wanted on my hands.

"Driver." Benicio said, getting my attention as I reached for a box of cereal.

"Yeah?" I said.

"Why are we moving?"

I kept pushing the cart and taking things off the shelves as I answered, a part of me relieved that he'd asked. When we brought up the move the first time, he'd acted passive about it, no signs of grief, but no signs of excitement either. He seemed completely unfazed, like he'd moved hundreds of times before when the truth was he'd never moved in his life. It worried Irene, which concerned me, but Benicio's smart. Ever since Standard's death, I've noticed that he's been trying to…figure everything out. He wants to know what I know, which I've told him a number of times he's not ready for.

"For a little change. You really want to stay here your entire life?"

"No." He replied. He paused, waiting for eye contact maybe. "Then why does mom not like that we're leaving?"

I almost stopped walking. My eyes darted to another customer just down the aisle. What a great place to have this conversation.

"Where'd you get that idea?" I asked softly, trying to get him to talk lower. He either ignored me or didn't get the message.

"She's sad all the time." He said it as if she's been this way for some time. She probably has been.

"She knows we need to move."

"I thought we wanted to move. Why do we need to?"

I looked at him straight in the eyes then, seeing the mischievousness that I'd always sensed within him staring right back at me. He seemed slightly proud of himself, but not nearly enough to hide the fact that he was worried.

When I didn't answer right away, he continued, this time in a softer voice. I'd stopped walking by then. "Is it because of dad? And you? Are you in trouble?"

I looked around, suddenly on alert. Now I was whispering. "We can't talk here."

"We can't talk anywhere." He whispered back. "I'm not a little kid."

"I know. I know."

He is still a little kid, but all these things that have happened, seeing his dad beaten senseless, being given a bullet by the men responsible, losing his father and seeing me in such bad shape…there was no wonder he wanted to know what the hell he did to deserve all this. He's too young to understand.

For the first time since I've met Benicio, I ignored his questions, all the way up until we checked out and were out the door. Once we were both in the car, I turned around to look at him in the back seat. He looked up at me with big eyes, a little on edge from me not being straight forward with him, and maybe from a few other things. I just needed him to understand.

"You're staying with us?" He asked before I could say anything.

I nodded. "Yes. We're all moving together."

"And you'll live with us and take me to school and eat with us and everything?"

I suppressed a smile. "Yes. I'll do everything people normally do when they move in."

"You'll teach me to drive?"

"In ten years, yeah."

"You'll teach me to multiply?"

"If you need my help, anything."

He got quiet for a second, looking away for a moment out the window, thinking. Then, "Are you going to marry mom?"

Then I got quiet. I knew where he was going with this, completely. Marriage to him probably meant I'd never leave and that he could have a dad again. Or is that what he didn't want?

"If she'll have me." I said quietly. "If you'll let me."

He looked surprised at that. "I don't care." I could hear that playfulness coming back again.

"Oh you don't? What if we got married today?"

He shrugged his shoulders.

"What if we never got married?"

He shrugged again.

"What if I go to jail?"

He froze. Bingo.

"Benicio." I said, looking at him straight in the eye, reaching a hand out for his shoulder. "Whether I marry your mother or not, I'm not going anywhere. I want to give you what I never had."

After a second he asked, "What?"

"A family."

…

When we got back, I asked Benicio if he could stay in his room awhile, having seen Irene in the living room with her head in her hands. He either noticed her too or understood from my tone of voice that he was needed in the confines of his own room. He half ran down the hallway while I set the groceries down on the counter before going to Irene.

She wasn't crying now. She either had been while we were out or hadn't started. I sat next to her on the couch and waited for her to say something. It wasn't long until she lifted her head up and looked at me. To my surprise, she smiled a little. Happy to see me? Or hiding something?

She sat up straight and stared at the wall just across from us for a second before turning to me.

"I hardly know you." She said. She put a hand on mine before I could even think to say anything. "But that doesn't matter now, does it?"

I slowly shook my head. "I'll tell you everything—"

"But now's not the time." She finished. I sighed without conscious thought of doing so, finding myself relieved that she felt that way.

Only now when she started to blink away silent tears did I notice the dried tears on her face and the shade of red cornering her eyes. I raised a hand to the tears I'd failed to catch, knowing that she didn't need me for that; sensing the bitter sweet truth that she'd lived for years without anyone caring whether she wept or not. She leaned into my hand for a moment, eyes roaming every inch of the apartment of that she was able to see from here, every old memory that lay in this space coming to life in her overcrowded heart. Her eyes finally met mine, a spark of newness visibly awing her, thieving both of our abilities to speak. I felt her hands on me suddenly and couldn't at all feel my own hands running over her shoulders, to her hips and back. Our lips met finally, and my mind no longer held any control of my next actions. We'd kissed many times before this, but none held such lust. The newness of it all surprised me in the greatest of ways.

All of my questions about her past, all of the confessions about mine, they all washed away with every wave of pleasure that hit me. The feeling of her body so close to mine was like the sun beating down on me when all of the encounters I've ever had with the opposite sex were as cold as a raging ocean in the dead of night. Locked in an intimate conversation of souls, love consuming me like nothing I've ever felt before, the freedom that soared through me took control with ease. I haven't been with a woman in years, purposefully, and I felt the years melting away from time itself. I'd needed to be careful when it came to my job. I had rules for both my job and my social life for a very important reason. It wasn't worth it to get caught up with people if all I had to offer was a getaway car and a man who ran away from everything once he got his money.

It wasn't until I had to give everything up when I realized how much love I had to give. My world is a dark place. Death and pain follow me by the heals, hiding behind the wheels of every car I've ever driven. How had I convinced myself that I could separate Irene from the criminal life I'd made for myself and bask in her sunlight without getting burned? Without threatening her life?

None of that mattered now. She was with me, basking in the glory that is relaxation, release, reflex. My mind spinning, heart pounding and blood pulsing, I couldn't help but wonder if fate had brought us together. Many times in my youth, I questioned the meaning of my life; I questioned why everything had to go wrong. I had so many regrets. Would I have even met Irene if things had been slightly different? Even slightly better?

We guided each other to her room, neither of us wanting to fully separate in order to simply walk there, but for some reason, the distance was too great and our magnetism too powerful. Her bed was not an uncommon place for either of us. After I'd insisted about a week ago—which took me an entire day to work up the nerve—she's slept with me in her bed every night. Most of the time, we were content holding each other in quiet, relishing in the warmth and peace we found together. We talked some nights, sometimes just to share memories or ask light questions with light answers. I always wanted to talk; to tell her the truth about me because she deserved to know, but couldn't bear to darken the mood or give her any more stress and grief that she already possessed. Each night was a fight within to keep all of my secrets hidden, afraid she would reject me if she knew. I needed her to know, but it could wait now. We needed each other tonight.

During my recovery, we were cautious when we reached this point of passion, always stopping when we became dangerously aroused. It happened occasionally.

We wouldn't be stopping anything tonight.

No words were passed between us as we expanded our knowledge of each other. Although this was new ground for both of us, I felt as if we'd been making love for years once we began. I quickly learned what she liked, making her pleasure my priority, loving when she half heatedly protested my worshipping of every inch of her skin. I could feel her heart thumping in her chest when my lips travelled down from her neck to her collarbone, her fingertips lightly grasping the hairs on the back of my neck, her leg bent ever so slightly, bringing me that much closer to her. As the night went on, we remained at a slow pace, something we both later admitted to be very different from past experiences, yet somehow the most intense we've ever had.

In the aftermath of it all, she lay on top of me, hands idly, yet comfortingly roaming my chest. She kissed my neck and breathed in my scent as if it was something to memorize.

Something she might lose.

I held her tightly before I surrendered to sleep, never having felt so loved in my life. But even with this freedom, I can't ignore what I know is coming. I can't ignore my past any longer.

Please review, constructive criticism would be very helpful :)