Once Upon a Reaper

The Clock Strikes

"Yer no' serious," Chibs stated flatly. I shrugged a little and twisted my lips. I was dead serious.

"Kid," Clay sighed, putting his hand up to his forehead. "That's just..." he faded off on a huff. After a few seconds, he dropped his hand and stared at me. "That's not-"

"Not how it's done?" I challenged, my brows up. "Not the Son way?" I suggested.

"More like," Tig interjected. "It's not normal." I leveled him a glare, but he just gave me a smarmy smile and then took a drag. Another few seconds drug on before I responded.

"I know," I answered lowly. "But you weren't there," I argued. "You didn't meet her."

Of course, I knew that what they were saying was saner. It didn't make sense that I would be this caught up - this bent out of shape - over a single night. What was sane didn't make a fucking difference, though. It was her.

It happened at the club Halloween party. In typical fashion, all of the women dressed for the occasion while all of the Sons got three sheets to the wind. I was partying with the best of them, fresh off a few rounds in the ring, when I'd stumbled into her in the back lot.

She was in all black, leather from head to heels. Criss-crossing the leather were fake white threads and over her face was a mask that covered the top half of her face. She was the spitting image of Michelle Pfieffer's Catwoman and I'd felt like I'd taken a hit right to the nuts seeing her.

"Sorry about that," she'd said, her full lips widening into a smile. The light in the lot was too rough to see well, but her eyes shone anyway.

"No problem, darlin'," I'd answered, only to hear her laugh. She shook her head when I looked at her in question. Finally, after she'd settled, she spoke.

"I know who you are," she confessed. "Just because of that," she continued. I'd frowned. Because of what?

"Everyone knows the Prince calls women that," she'd said in response to what had to have been my obvious confusion.

"Lies and half-truths," I'd returned. "All uttered to try to convince others that I'm something I'm not." My smile must have given me away, or perhaps my reputation had.

"You deny loving women?" she'd challenged. I'd puffed up, intending to say something witty, when another man had come up to her side.

"What are you doing?" he'd asked.

"Just chatting with the royalty," she'd replied, winking at me. It caused a tingle to shoot up my neck.

"The roy- oh shit," he'd said. His eyes widened as he looked at me and then back at Catwoman.

"We gotta go," he murmured, tugging on her arm. She looked confused for a second before he whispered something to her. Then, she pulled out her phone and I could have sworn I saw panic flash in her eyes.

"You're right," she said. She gave me a nod, as if that were all she intended to say, and started to hurry with the man toward the gates.

"Hey!" I called out, confused and a little pissed. I caught up with them just before the gates, my hand catching hers.

"I have to leave," she'd said.

"Who are you?" I asked.

"I have-" she started to say, but then she cut off as a low-riding Chevy pulled to a stop and the passenger door was flung open.

"Elle!" a man's voice cried. Catwoman startled and then pulled away from me.

"Goodbye," she called, just as she got into the car.