In Charge

3.Cathedral of Insanity

She plopped herself into the mattress, her hands roaming around the soft sheets. It rumbled against herself.

Regina sighed.

After a long day of interviewing some of the neighbors, she hadn't gotten much information. She was although, curious to know about the whereabouts of Melanie, Adele's niece. She could ask-

"That's my bed." A deep voice resonated through the room.

She internally rolled her eyes.
Xander.

She sits up, leaning back on her elbows.
Narrowing her eyes at his big form, "Where the hell am I supposed to sleep?"

He points to the cot nearby. It looked ragged and old. Her jaw opened, she looked back at him in aghast. "Excuse me? I'm not sleeping on that thing you call bed."

"It's not a bed. Never called it that. It's a cot. Now get off."

She huffed but stayed put. "No! I'm not getting on that thing. I need my sleep."

He crossed his arms over his chest, the muscle bulging against his green t-shirt. Her eyes zeroed in on it, mentally wanting to squeeze that muscle there.

"Look. It's either that or we share a bed."

"Why not sleep somewhere else?"

"I thought you were a detective."

"I am." Not understanding where this was going.

"Well if you proclaim that, then you would have known most of the rooms are emptied out. Since Adele lived alone, she had just this one room where she stayed every time."

"Yes, I know that, buffoon! I'm saying why can't I have the bed and you go sleep in that little cottage of yours." She waved her hand dismissively at him. It miffed her how easily he could push her buttons. Questioning her integrity as a detective. That man.

" I don't trust you."

"What exactly do you think I might do here? Steal? Vandalize? Or how about murder? Oh wait, I can't because it's already been done."

"You are a bitch." He growled.

"And you are a bastard." She glared back at him.

His eyes twitched at that.

He may be called far more worse but being called bastard edged him wrong. He hated being called that and Regina noticed it, with a twinkle of delight in her eyes. Weakness.

"I'm staying in here. If you aren't okay with that, then go have at it on the cot." He said, pulling off his t-shirt in one flow.

Regina was beyond angry, yet the flow of cursed words stopped when she got a sight of his bare chest again. Why does he keep taking off his t-shirt? It's annoying and bother-line disturbing how her mind switched from strangling him to pouncing on him.

"Well I'm not sleeping on the cot." She states, making herself comfortable on the bed. She moved to the right side of the bed, taking off her shirt and shimmed out of her jeans, clad in only underwear and camisole. She laid back.

Xander tried not to look. Tried.

But when he caught a glimpse of her muscled legs, and her panties were red. Red! He was seeing red. He thought he died and gone to heaven. He was also quick to catch how she flared her nostrils when she checked him out.

Yes, there was tension but hatred over ruled it.
She was obnoxious, mean and so sexy. He mentally slapped his hand on his forehead. He needed to get laid.

He took off his jeans, only wearing his boxers and moved into the left side of the bed. They created a huge gap between them. It was safe to say an army could have invaded that space, because it was that big. However, the heat from their bodies radiated off them. It made Regina squirmer. She wiggled her feet, accidentally touching his in the process.

"Would you knock it off?" Already getting hard when he felt her feet touch his for that split second.

She blew out a breath, annoyed at his antics.
"Would you just shut the fuck up?"

He placed his hand behind his head, gazing up at the ceiling. He never thought a woman could as mean as the one sleeping next to him.

His thoughts begin to wonder. Adele was such a sweet woman and if she had enemies who wanted to kill her then, she must have secrets.

He smiled inwardly, remembering how she used to take care of him when he got sick. She used to make him some hot chicken soup, with chicken stars. He was babied too much here but couldn't complain.

He didn't have the best childhood growing up. His mother who was married to a rich merchant, had a secret affair with the servant living there. Out of there, was Xander Davis was born. His step father hated his mother for what she did and in order to punish her, she was made to give Xander away to an orphanage. After that, the madness began. He wasn't given good food, place to sleep in, nothing. When he was about eleven years old, he heard of an opening in the army for cooks.

He took it as an opportunity and started to work as a chef for the army. It was not bright and colors but he at least got to have food in his belly. Then, things began to change. He landed up being a soldier. Slowly, from there things began to look up and he managed to become a drill sergeant. The struggle was long and painful but he endured it.

His eyes blinked, coming back to reality. He looked to his side, finding Regina sleeping curled up in a small cute ball. She was facing him. Her lashes resting upon her cheekbones, she looked beau-

"Stop staring, you creep!"
Her eyes flashed open to his.

He grunted in annoyance. He takes it back. She was insane. A psychotic witch with a figure of a model but nonetheless, a witch.

"I wasn't staring." He muttered.

"Uh huh. And pigs fly." She snorted, bitterly.

"What's your problem with me?" He barked back at her. Clearly getting more irked by her mere presence.

"You started the problem. Not me. I wanted to come here and work peacefully but not you. You with your macho ego wanted to shoo me away."

"Macho? You think I'm macho?" He almost smiled, but seeing her steely eyes that were not amused. He thought not to.

"It wasn't a compliment."
She was quick, he'll give her that.

"I never said it was".

"Your smile almost said it."

Why did this banter managed to flare heat in his loins? He subtly adjusted himself, as he told her, "For a woman who hates me, you are awfully focused on me."

"I'm a detective. It's my job."

"So you are on duty even when you are off duty? Gee..No wonder you are a grouch." He turns his head away, nuzzling his face into his pillow.

"I'm not a grouch. I just have more important things to do than sit around in some lonely cottage while someone under my nose gets murdered."

He was on top of her so fast that she didn't even have the time to nictate.

"My patience with you, McQueen is hanging on a thin line. I suggest you think about what you say and do before you want me to break loose." He lowers his voice, dangerously.

The way he spoke made her avid. He was so close to her face she stared up at those angry unfettered eyes. His body in line with hers.
It made her ache deep down below.

Anyhow, Regina remained unsurprised. With an unflinching tone, she tells him. "You don't want to know when I lose my patience, sergeant."