Primal Innocence

Disclaimer: I don't own anyone, so please don't sue. I'm borrowing them for my own sick imagination.

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“Why am I here?” he murmured to himself.

This was Nikki’s thing, not his. He’d have never visited a library. Its quiet, serene atmosphere was in direct conflict with the thing he loved most. He was a drummer, for crying out loud!

He immediately felt out of place as soon as he stepped inside the building. The silence and scent of old leather and ink surrounded him, almost making him turn around and leave. Shit, no wonder Nikki didn’t want to come.

Sitting alone at home that morning had him reminiscing about old times, so he’d decided to stop by Nikki’s and see how he was doing. They talked about their current bands and the things going on in each other’s lives after Crue. Nikki’s kids greeted him with the usual hugs and smiles, shouting, “Uncle Tommy!” upon seeing him.

He quickly realized how much he missed Brandon and Dylan as he watched them nearly topple Nikki over while each vying for his attention. He’d needed some fresh air to clear the stinging in his eyes and the lump in his throat, so he volunteered to run into town to get some books for Gunnar, Nikki’s eldest.

Tommy looked around the room.

There were a few patrons there, even so late in the evening, and he decided to veer away from them, knowing his appearance would most definitely disturb their peace and quiet.

The clacking of keys brought his attention to the counter to his left. A dark head was bent over the computer screen, but he couldn’t see the face as he approached and rested his arms on the counter.

“Darn you,” she hissed at the screen.

Tommy grinned at her choice of words, then cleared his throat to get her attention.

Her head came up, startled, as a pair of stormy gray eyes took him in behind big wire-frame glasses. Giving a warm smile, she inquired, “Can I help you?”

He dug into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out the paper that was marked with Nikki’s barely-readable scrawl. “I’m supposed to pick up some books for Gunnar Sixx,” Tommy said, trying to make out the names of the books, but failing miserably.

He laid the slip of paper down on the counter and she lifted it. Squinting, she drew the paper closer to her face, then wrinkled her nose and moved it further away.

She was plain but cute as a button as she studied the text.

“Okay,” she said, setting the paper down, “it’s Flight In Yiktor and Fredrickson’s History of Scandinavia.” She moved from behind the counter toward the aisles of bookshelves and he followed. “We have the first one here,” she said over her shoulder as she moved down an aisle and perused the selection with an outstretched finger. “Ah, here we are,” she murmured and bent to pull it out.

Tommy made sure to keep his eyes straight ahead and not let them follow the curved line of her back down to that tempting behind that was on display only a few inches from him.

He must’ve been losing his touch. During his Crue days, he would’ve made sure to slap her ass, then maybe press her up against the bookshelf, and see if she felt as sweet beneath his hands as she looked to his eyes.

Snap out of it, T-bone.

He brought his mind back to the girl in front of him. She was chattering about the attributes of the book and he managed to catch the tail-end of her words so that he could agree convincingly.

“The other book is in the basement,” she told him. “We only have one copy, and it hasn’t been checked out in quite a while.” She place the teal colored hard-back she was holding behind the counter. “It could take a while to find it.”

“That’s fine,” he said with a nod. Nikki wouldn’t be happy if he didn’t show up with it. Gunnar needed it for some school essay, so he would wait as long as necessary.

She smiled at him again and he noticed that it made her eyes sparkle, turning them an almost-blue.

They took the elevator down to the basement and he was assaulted by the smell of dust and mold.

The girl moved into the dank room. It wasn’t very well lit and he hoped she knew where she was going.

“It’s this w-w-w-” she sneezed delicately, then apologized. “Down this way.”

Tommy grinned despite himself. She reminded him of a little mouse, and damn it, it was cute as hell, and by a not-too-far stretch of his warped imagination, actually a little sexy.

Shit, he *was* losing his touch.

The girl pulled a ladder from against the wall and was attempting to carry the thing toward the shelves.

He stopped her. “That’s heavy. I’ll do it.” He took the ladder and trailed behind her.

They spent the next half-hour looking through the unorganized mess of books, before she made a sound of success.

“Found it.” She grinned down at him from her perch atop the ladder.

A few tendrils of chestnut hair had fallen from the low ponytail at her nape and there was a smudge of dust on her cheek, making him want to swipe it away and test the softness of her skin. Instead, he shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans to keep them occupied.

She began her descent, her long black skirt rising to bare a little of the creamy skin just below the back of her knee.
“Oh, dear,” she murmured, “my glasses are dusty. I can hardly see out of them.” She was three rungs from the floor when she lost her footing and began to topple backwards, a little squeak issuing from her.

Tommy saw it, catching her before she could make contact with the cold, hard concrete floor.

Fate was obviously not on his side because it ended up with her cradled against his chest and there faces only centimeters apart.

Her eyes were huge, her lips parted on a gasp and it took everything he had to set her on her feet instead of kissing her silly.