ALAN - An Alan Rickman fanfic

Chapter 16 - The Disclaimer

Long awaited update! Here it is. So glad to be back. @sephine87 and I have a long chapter for you full of fluff, drama and sizzling heat! Enjoy!

Just a reminder, that this fic is rated 'M.' (Code for mmmmmadafuckin HOT) 

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The lights of New York City dance like passing glow sticks behind my falling lids. With my elbow resting against the door frame of Alan's Mercedes, my ominous thoughts are uncontainable. Who is this someone he still thinks about, this someone who according to Emma will be back? What did she mean by referring to said person as 'the other one?' And that myself, 'a latest project' was a 'little young.'

I gaze over at Alan's handsome profile illuminated by the city lights, crushed at the thought of sharing him with another woman. After such a secretive thrill in the bathroom of Emma's house, the way the evening ended had left a bad taste in my mouth.

I grab a glass of water before bed and whilst the opportunity arrises with Alan still in the kitchen, I snoop around his bedroom. Curiosity gets the better of me and I place the water to the nightstand, dipping into his bedside cabinet remembering the lingerie catalogue I last saw there. This time I manage to sneak it out and flip through. He's folded over the corner of a page where a black set oozes naughtiness - the teeniest strings, sheer fabric, patterned lace that traces the curve of the model's full breasts. Despite its naughtiness, the silk robe she drapes seductively gives it an air of sophistication that suits his sexual taste in every way. The model, I notice, looks a lot like me with thick black curls and olive skin. The other page marks a red set that is in every way different to the black set - sexy, but simplistic. Definitely prefer the black.

As I'm looking, a loose piece of paper feathers its way to the carpet between the pages.

Oh god! His footsteps. I shove the magazine back in the nightstand but it knocks over my water. I dash to the bathroom for a towel, only to find him standing there when I return. Our eyes waver from each other to spillage and the lingerie catalogue clumsily hanging out of the cupboard.

"What on earth are you doing?"

"I was just looking for some Aspirin. I'm sorry I'll clean it up"

Alan isn't buying it and raises his brow. With his arms crossed, he rests against the door frame.

"What were you hoping to find in there exactly? Because it clearly wasn't Asprin..."

He takes the lingerie catalogue and drops it on top of the bedside dresser. "There's that little surprise out the window..."

"I'm sorry," I say meekly. I pick up the loose piece of paper that's fallen out of the magazine to see the sketch I had penned of him sleeping. I feel awful.

Alan's frown is full of suspicion watching me mop up the water. It's wrong to think it, but gosh is he attractive right now - his presence is powerful, assertive... There's a part of me that wants to crawl over and unzip his trousers apologetically.

"Whatever it was you were looking for isn't there to be sought."

It's now or never - I hold my breath in anticipation but with a doe-eyed look, gazing up at him. "But who do the hair pins belong to?

Alan's frown deepens, his eyes narrowing in confusion. I'm fearfully digging deep and yet I can't help myself, perching on much more than the edge of the bed, I know. My voice gets quieter as I go on.

"Do they belong to an ex?"

"Well they're hardly mine...throw them out if it pleases you."

There's a moment of silence between us whilst he takes off his watch and places it to the bedside dresser.