Sanctuary { a javier peña fanfiction }

Chapter One

She hated the closing shift. Not necessarily because she wouldn't get home until after 2am, hand clutching the bottle of pepper spray she kept on her keychain as she nearly jogged the four blocks that separated her apartment from the bar. No, it was because the night crowd was far rowdier than the afternoon one.

The afternoon crowd consisted of hardened, seasoned alcoholics. Guys who needed their first beer at 10am, their first shot of bourbon at noon. Sure a few of them let their gazes linger a little too long, some of them tried to make passes at her, but it was always half-assed, a rather hopeless effort. Those guys saw her every day, they knew they didn't have a chance. The night crowd however, the night crowd was loud. A mix of college kids, the occasional group of tourists who somehow managed to end up in the Sunset, and the more boisterous pack of locals, most of which had been coming to Fireside long before she was even born.

"Emma sweetie, I still don't have my Coors Light." Nick, one of the locals, leaned across the bar top a bit further than should have been allowed, his fingers dangerously close to skimming over and tainting the jar of limes that she had pre-sliced earlier in the day. A small preparation for the grueling Friday night that lay ahead.

"I'm a little short-staffed in case you hadn't noticed." Emma grunted as she grabbed a glass from the fridge and tugged down the Coors Light tap.

"Sassy this evening." Nick smirked, one side of his lips curling up as he placed a five-dollar bill down on the bar top.

Of course that fucker isn't going to tip, his family owns half the fucking Sunset and he's still a cheap bastard.

Emma placed his beer in front of him, snagging the five-dollar bill, spinning around, and ringing him up on the chunky cash register that had certainly seen better days... better decades. She rammed her hip into the drawer to get it to pop open, then shoved the bill inside, brushing the sweat off her brow with the back of her hand as she turned back around.

Her eyes caught and settled on a tall figure sauntering his way into the bar. She'd never seen him before, she knew, because she definitely would have remembered him if she had. The dude was broad, his shoulders comparative to that of a fucking linebacker or something, but his width tapered in at the waist, his brown belt cinched tight over a pair of blue jeans that looked like they belonged in the 70's... his whole look was decades behind, actually, a short-sleeved, bright blue button-up stretched over his wide chest and back, the thing looking like it was about to burst at the seams as he sat down at one of the empty barstools right in front of her.

His eyes, a dark, chocolate brown, somehow looked kind as they flickered up to her face, then slowly trailed down her body, making her stifle a tremble as they worked their way back up.

Javier smiled, not wide enough for that dimple to emerge on his right cheek, but enough so that he flashed her those perfectly straight, white teeth, framed underneath a thick, black mustache.

Pretty. He thought as he watched a flush brighten the apples of her cheeks. Really fucking pretty.

"What can I get for you?" She asked, grabbing a rag from the bar top, and ringing it in her hands to try to cope with the heavy-winged butterflies that were currently flapping away in her stomach at the sight of the attractive stranger.

"Bourbon please, neat." He said in a low baritone that made those butterflies leap into her chest.

"Preference?" She asked, forcing herself to turn around and step over toward the bourbon shelf.

"Whatever you give me will be fine, sweetheart." He crooned, his eyes snaking down her body as she reached for one of the mid-shelf options. Really fucking pretty, he thought again as his gaze lingered on her generous backside, snugly filling the seat of her high-rise jeans.