450 Champs du Mars: Natalie Blackwood's Apartment

[The Exodus]

The moment Natalie decided to make Paris her new home, she decided only the best apartment in the city would be hers. She combed the city for an address worthy of a queen. At least, an address that would give her lawyer opportunity to tip the alimony scales in her favor. The apartment is elegantly, if not lavishly, decorated. The main room-- living room, kitchen, and dining room all-- is awash in light grey with cream, lavender, and black accent pieces. The master suite, shades of brown, cream, and olive, is tranquil space for the newly divorced Natalie and opens into a marble bathroom, complete with jacuzzi tub. The guest room, more modestly decorated in soft yellows and whites is an inviting space utilized occasionally by Natalie's grown son, Damien. The second bathroom, next to the second bedroom but not adjoining, is crisply-- if sparsely-- decorated.

And of course, there is the view. From her terrace, Natalie can see both the Seine and the Eiffel Tower. Fit for a queen, indeed.

Inspiration for living room, kitchen, dining room, and bedrooms

Inspiration for Master and guest bathrooms (1 and 2)

Inspiration for terrace and view

[The Exodus]

OOC: Continued from Batofar! BIC:


Natalie Blackwood

The last time Natalie had that much trouble driving home with a man in the passenger’s seat, she’d been twenty-one and hadn’t much restraint. No, make that she had been twenty-one with no restraint. She’d pulled the car over then and the slide from driver’s seat to backseat had been so quick, Natalie didn’t remember in the morning where her bra had gone when the sun crept over the Isis and she realized she was late for Global Economy.

Two decades later, she was just as randy, but much more controlled. She was an adult; a grown woman, driving a strange man back to her place and it didn’t matter how much squirming she did, she was teasing this out just a bit. When she was twenty one, the man she’d been with had been her boyfriend—steady boyfriend, later husband, now ex-husband—and there’d been no risk. No danger. Just the sheer adrenaline of being twenty-one and lusty. There was danger tonight. It was the first taste of a forbidden fruit Bea used to tell her was the sweetest to bite from. Sex with a stranger was a special type of love making, because there was no love involved. No strings attached. She wouldn’t wake up in the morning with the guarantee that Myron Bolitar would want her again, love her, need her.

And maybe she wouldn’t care if he did or not.

But something that crossed her mind in the drive from Batofar to her apartment on the Champs du Mars was that keeping her just cool enough to drive.

Myron Bolitar was a stranger. Natalie had been in the car with him longer than she had spoken with him at the bar at this point. There was no risk of pregnancy, but the idea that she could pick up something from him crossed her mind. She could wait until they were in her apartment, wait to have that talk. Now, the tension hung thick in the air as Natalie navigated the cobbled streets with one hand on the wheel and another on Myron’s knee, inching towards his inner thigh just a bit. She wanted to keep him burning just a bit, but breaking the quiet seemed oddly taboo. Natalie didn’t take strangers home. Never. Not even when she was young and single. She was the careful one. The savvy one. The one who only took risks when there was something to gain.

The last “risk” she’d taken had been a stupid mistake. Becoming a married man’s other woman, while married herself. Blind selfishness, perhaps, had motivated her. Natalie was more inclined to think she had just needed someone then, as her marriage was tumbling down around her ears. Facing the inevitable had been better with Anthony by her side. And then he was gone.

Now there was no one.

Just… Myron.

Myron, the funny, attractive American she’d picked up in a bar. She didn’t know his career, his address, his criminal record, his mother’s name…

No one robbed you of your twenties, Nat. You’re living them now.

Still, she wished she’d gotten to know him some back at the bar. Now was a bad time to ask questions; too late for small talk. Soon, they’d be muttering filthy things to each other the prim-and-proper Natalie Blackwood who attended charity balls and campaign parties would never, ever admit to thinking, much less saying out loud.

She’d been a politician’s wife long enough to think this was perfectly normal. You had a public face and a private face. For your eyes only sort of stuff; bedroom eyes didn’t come out during dinner and drinks with the Prime Minister and his wife, after all.

She parallel parked her car outside of the complex and led Myron to her penthouse suite.

“Can I get you anything?” she asked, turning on the lights dimly. “A glass of wine, maybe?”

She looked from him to the fireplace and stereo. Really, the flat would make for quite the love nest, to use her derogatory term for other people’s bedrooms. She could get a fire roaring, play some soft, classic R&B or jazz, and snog on the sofa. She imagined the plush would feel good against bare skin. Or the tub down the hall, with it’s jet-streams and marble. Even the bedroom, in all it’s austere, almost hotel-ish design, or the semi-public balcony. A floodgate had been unlocked. Fantasies Natalie didn’t usually claim were suddenly heightened. Dangling out over the city, leaning over the railing with a lover—Myron, perhaps—behind her, pressing her into the wrought iron until it left imprints. Or else wrapped up in the tub, massaging each other. Curled up in front of the fire, kissing and drinking and chatting until talk gave way to touch.

She’d start with the offer of the drink and try to steer things one way or the other. They could live out at least one of these foolish, almost cardboard-cutout fantasies before the night was through. And in the morning, Myron would slip away into the light.

If things really were like the movies, anyways, and there was no awkward lingering on in the morning.

Uncharted territory, all this was. Natalie didn’t want to let it show, didn’t want the cracks in her smile to show.

[Deleted]

Myron Bolitar

“Can I get you anything?”

“Hmmm?”

Myron Bolitar had been gazing out Natalie Blackwood’s apartment window at the killer view. Okay, so yeah, he got it. He had been in Paris for a long time now, and ‘gazing’ out at the view was probably too tourist-esque, but it never got old for Myron. The Eiffel Tower was like, in her living room. She could watch television and share a bowl of buttery popcorn with the Eiffel Tower. How flipping sweet, right?

Myron had made a direct shot to the window because the view, which had been established already, but it saved him some alone time with his face. Everyone needed alone time with their face. Myron Bolitar was an expressionist. In deep thought, the nose begins to crinkle, the eyebrows furrow and make this deep line in between his eyes that could help bury a body and a lot more unattractive things. If it were a freaking out thought, the ‘I’m freakin’ out’ expression would come out to play. So, Myron stood at the window with his hands at the waist of his paints, and the expression of choice as of now was something that was close to the Home Alone boy. Brought to you by the current situation.

Turning away from the window, Myron looked over at Natalie Blackwood. He kept referring to her as ‘Natalie Blackwood’ which was her name, but a tad bit odd that he had to say the entire title because he had met her about two point five seconds ago. (Myron Bolitar: Exaggerator Extraordinaire) It just seemed weird to just say, ‘Natalie’ or ‘Nat’ or ‘Nat-attack’. Not that those were even usable nicknames if he had known her for ten years, but point being, this was all a little freaky-deaky still for him, and her full name was the only thing he even knew about her besides how gorgeous she was. So, Myron Bolitar was clinging to that one fact like a life preserver in the sea of one night stands.

“A glass of wine, maybe?”

That was tempting, and Myron felt his shoulders even begin to relax at the thought of drinking down some nice wine to calm his nerves. Then the thought dawned on him. Wine could totally throw off his mojo. There were horror stories at the gym locker rooms. Men about to get it on with their ladies, but they have a little too much to drink; then crash-boom-bang, man down if you know what he means. It had the potential to be dangerous. Myron Bolitar wouldn’t take any chances, because nothing was going to get in the way of tonight. He had already had drinks at the bar and that was enough. Plus, this was a one night stand with a mega babe-o-rama. Myron wanted to remember every single millisecond of it and not have one moment of a foggy haze.
So far he had remembered everything and it had been replaying in his mind ever since he entered the apartment. Which, the apartment was glorious. Natalie Blackwood must have a good job. But, he wanted to analyze everything, see if he could get any clues as to how this woman operated and what he should do to flip the right switches. Wow, alright, referring to woman as machinery maybe wasn’t tre’ romantic, but that’s why internal dialogue belonged internal. Myron kept thinking about when he had to give Santiago the head nod single that it was a go, and he’d catch up with his friend tomorrow to fill him in. The car ride wasn’t as awkward as it should have been. Myron Bolitar wondered if she was like, a pro at this. What if he was just a routine or something. Then again, why the hell did he give a damn?

Tonight wasn’t about analyzing her, or trying to ‘figure’ her out like a jigsaw puzzle. Which, friggin’ frustrated him to no end, so he would just end up cutting the pieces to fit. No, tonight was about sex. Simple. He tried to push back the thought on how disgusting that was, but for the sake of his sexually sanity, he would take a dive into the world for one night.

Politely smirking, Myron slid his hands into his pockets. “Thank you, but I’m alright.”

For the first time since the bar, Myron’s eyes actually got to look straight into hers. He couldn’t help but smirk and tilt his head sideways. She was beautiful. Beautiful, was not an adjective for tonight though. Tonight was about the sexy, hot, husky things. Not the sunshine, flowers, beautiful, pretty. Myron Bolitar needed to be little more dangerous. Whatever the hell that meant.

Sliding his hands out from his pockets, Myron bit his lower lip letting his eyes linger away from her face and do a quick once over on her. Walking toward her slowly, he met her eyes again and was silent until he was fairly close to her now. She smelled wonderful. With glint in his eye, he gently brushed a hair away from her face, wrapping it around her ear and allowing his touch to linger near her neck. He looked at his fingers brushing through her thick blonde hair, and he looked back into her eyes.

“But if you need a glass of wine, you should probably go do that,” He murmured bringing his hands down and sliding them back into his pockets. “Because I’m not sure how much longer I’m going to be able to go without kissing you.”

[The Exodus]

Natalie Blackwood

Natalie supposed she needed that glass of wine. It sounded borderline alcoholic to say she “needed” it. No doubt Damien would check her into rehabilitation, if he were here. If he were here, though, Myron wouldn’t be and Natalie probably wouldn’t be thinking of downing half a bottle of wine. Wasn’t this how one conducted a one night stand? By pumping oneself full of alcohol and plying their partner?

Natalie didn’t know.

She tried to recall any and all drunk sex she’d had. She realized that if there was any, she wouldn’t have been able to remember it. She thought a little harder. No. She had as close to an immaculate track record as a woman her age could have. Natalie didn’t know if that was a good thing or a bad one. How often did Myron do this, anyways? Was Myron even his real name?

You didn’t make up a moniker like Myron. Natalie crossed to the kitchen and watched Myron from behind the counter. He seemed transfixed by the view. Not by her. A chilly sensation crept into her chest. She knew this feeling. But it was fine. She was sleeping with Myron tonight, not marrying him for a quarter century. He wasn’t obligated to pay her much mind.

What if, for him, tonight was about his own needs? What if Myron took what he wanted and left? Would she be able to handle that? Look Ashton in the eyes, should they run into one another again? No dent to her pride?

If she got drunk now, she wouldn’t have to answer those questions in the morning.

Natalie ran her fingers down the side of her countertop wine rack. German wines, California wines, Italian and Greek and Spanish wines. No French. They glittered up at her through colored decanters and bottles. Tempting, they were, even if drunken sex was a bad idea no matter how you sliced it.

“Thank you, but I’m alright.”

Natalie reluctantly withdrew her fingertips from the display. She looked up at Myron and their eyes met. His were a deep shade of brown. She’d read once that women were subconsciously more attracted to brown-eyed men. She’d never been with one before. She tried to recall ever dating a boy with brown eyes in her teens. Not even then.

First one night stand. First brown-eyed man.

There was a first time for everything. Excitement brought back that oddly urgent thrumming in her chest. Myron smirked at her. Natalie wondered if this was how being desired was supposed to feel. She could scarcely recall anymore. Immobilized, Natalie stood still as Myron came around into the kitchen. Gingerly—almost tenderly—he pushed a strand of her hair from her eyes and tucked it behind her ear. When his fingertips brushed the top of her ear, Natalie sucked in a sharp breath.

“But if you need a glass of wine, you should probably go do that,” He murmured bringing his hands down and sliding them back into his pockets. “Because I’m not sure how much longer I’m going to be able to go without kissing you.”

Natalie’s eyes widened for a split second. She wasn’t sure what that kind of restraint meant. There was only one way to find out. Natalie put a hand to Myron’s chest. It was firm, well-toned. She looked up at him as coyly as she knew how. She used to be able to drive a man wild with a come-hither smile. Maybe a part of her still could.

“What’s stopping you?”

[Deleted]

Myron Bolitar


The show needed to get rollin’ here. Not that Myron Bolitar had a hot date or anything- which would make him a total manwhore if he did- but the sooner it happened the sooner his brain would shut off. Not that, you know, he longed to be brain dead or anything, but Myron’s palms were beginning to sweat. Imagine what other body part was next. Whatever, this was acceptable. Of course, Myron would never tell any of his friends how bogus his insides were going, but he was allowed to freak out. This was a big deal… ish. Myron hadn’t had relations in some time, and the last person was- Madeleine-ay De Chandon-yay. That was his attempt at not mentioning her name in his mind, but failing miserably. Pig latten was never his forte. The fact that Natalie Blackwood was blonde with colorful eyes made this a little less freaky. A Madeleine look-a-like would have made for some major problems.

Myron grinned wider when Natalie Blackwood’s eyes flared for a moment at how forward he was suddenly being. Seriously though, how long could two complete strangers keep up the small talk? At least the weather wasn’t mentioned or gas prices in America. You know you’re so on spot with awkward conversation when that happens. It would all be a smooth ride from here, as long as she, you know, didn’t stick around for the Myron mobile and decided to get a glass of wine. There was always that. He was hoping she was in just as much of a rush as he was to get this started. Wow, he was beginning to act like he was friggin’ twenty again. Well, wasn’t that the point of tonight?

Her hand slammed firmly yet not like Wonder Woman pound against his chest, and Myron looked down at her hand and their eyes flickered into one another’s. The devilish expression on her face suddenly made all Myron Bolitar’s insecurities go away. Oh, she so wanted this. Now he was getting riled up. Now Myron Bolitar was kicking in full throttle, and this pitiful sexless just got dumped creature was gone.

“What’s stopping you?”

Then it was over.

Myron Bolitar, without missing a beat, snatched up her wrist that was against his chest and with his other hand took ahold of the other wrist. He did this with intensity and roughness, but not the point where it would hurt. There was always a point between pleasure and pain, and Myron knew how to get there.

With her wrists, Myron pinned her hands back against the counter, pressing his body right up against hers. He moved his leg slightly so it was in the middle of her legs and moving against the fabric of her dress, softly and slowly pressing upward. Craning his neck to her, he moved his lips against the side of her neck kissing her slowly and sensually and as he moved lower to his collarbone getting a little faster in pace. Her body heat was making him go crazy, her smell was sending him in a haze, and the way she felt against him was enough to make a man go mad. This standing kissing neck thing wasn’t enough.

In one swift movement, Myron’s hands released her wrists and went to her waist. Plucking her up in a tight grasp, he sat her on the countertop and moved in between her legs, bringing his hands to her thighs and hiking up her dress slightly. Glaring with a wanting at her for a moment, he took a silent beat. His heart was beating against his chest and he could hear his own breath. Christ on a cracker, he probably sounded like some caveman with how rugged it was Whatever it didn’t matter. All that mattered was pleasuring the hell out of this gorgeous woman tonight.
With that, Myron Bolitar dove in and took up her lips with his.

[The Exodus]

Natalie Blackwood

It didn’t even take a full second for Myron to seize Natalie’s wrist. She looked at him, surprised, and then he grabbed the other one. Natalie’s heart knocked against her sternum. For a fleeting moment, she wondered what she’d just gotten herself into. Natalie was a woman in control. So careful, so savvy, so in charge.

That Natalie died the day her divorce papers were signed.

She was at the mercy of a stranger in her own home and the thought thrilled her more than she was comfortable with. Sanity told her letting a stranger come home with you after five minutes in a bar was foolish. It screamed at her that letting him pin her to the counter was dangerous. Myron pinned her down now, pressing against her firmly. He rubbed against her and involuntarily, Natalie gasped. And then his lips found her skin. They worked against her neck furiously. Natalie wondered how many of heartbeats flew by between kisses. She shut her eyes and her head lolled backwards. A groan bubbled up in her throat.

And just like that, Myron released her hands. When his hands found her hips, Natalie helped to push herself onto the countertop. There was something taboo about this. Something so taboo, that she hadn’t thought of it in her litany of fantasies. Natalie’s kitchen was her safe-place. No man’s land; just her. She’d shooed Lucian from any kitchen they’d had together. Anthony had only set foot in her home once; never in her kitchen. Her kitchen was sacred. The place where she was Damien’s mummy, the Michaud hostess, the ideal housewife. Other rooms were fair turnabout, but not her kitchen.

Until now. First time for everything.

Myron’s hands slid into her dress. Natalie mewled. Her eyes flew open and she caught Myron’s hungry gaze. She smirked back at him. And then they kissed.

His lips collided with hers. There was no gentle melding of souls, no fireworks blazing in the sky, no church bells sounding in the distance. Or if there was any of that, Natalie couldn’t see, or hear them. Her eyes shut and her ears were inundated by heavy, ragged breathing. She deepened the kiss testing his mouth with hers, his tongue with hers. Feeling, not thinking, not seeing, not hearing. Blindly, she reached forward for the button on his trousers. She teased him a bit, letting her fingers linger before doing away with restraint.

First time for everything. Shut your eyes and take the plunge.


[BLACK OUT]


Natalie supposed she shouldn’t have been shocked they hadn’t made it to the bedroom. A little more than half an hour later, she and Myron Bolitar sat before a roaring fire. He wore his trousers still, but his shirt was long gone, draped over a kitchen chair. Natalie, meanwhile, sat in her undergarments, swaddled in a blanket from the couch. She was suddenly—acutely—aware of how her body must have looked outside the confines of the dress. Her stomach was neither toned nor ballooning out in front of her, but if you looked closely, you could see small scars puckering the skin. Reminders that she had a twenty-four year old son, who would be appalled that his mummy just slept with a stranger.

“Nat, they’re beautiful,” Lucian used to say. “You’re the mother of my child. Why would I think anything about that was ugly?”

Easy for him to say. He didn’t live with the stretch marks. He didn’t have to live with her anymore, either, come to think of it. And there was no guarantee that Myron thought stretch marks were beautiful. They were fortunately faint. Tiny purple lines that made a crescent moon on one side of her stomach. It looked like a birthmark, maybe. She didn’t want Myron to see, now that they were sitting in firelight, drinking tea, and talking as they should have before all this.

Natalie stared into her teacup. It was part of a divorce present from her sister, Bea. They’d spent an afternoon last June, drunk and smashing the wedding china she and Lucian had for twenty some odd years. The next day, Bea turned up with a new set. White with gold trim around the tops and hand-painted flowers on the sides. Lavender and blue mostly. Delicate looking, but durable.

“Like you, love,” Bea said, kissing her forehead. “Besides. You walk into a marriage with a party. You should walk out of it with one, too.”

She’d also walked into her marriage making toe-curling love as she pleased. So, too, she was walking out of her marriage.

Except this was with Myron Bolitar. A strange, sexy American man. She stole a glance at him over her teacup. His skin was dewy in the firelight. Now that she was looking properly, Natalie could see how well-muscled he was. It surprised her. The white-collar, blue-blooded types she usually went for weren’t so well sculpted.

Usually went for. That was a strange phrase, for a woman who had only been with one other man besides her ex-husband.

Two, now. Two other men. She didn’t have much of a frame of reference to judge Myron by, but tonight had been fun, if over all too soon. She wondered if he would stay overnight, if they would do this again before dawn, or maybe in the early morning light, or if Myron was formulating an escape plan right now. Natalie set the tea down on the coffee table and adjusted her blanket again.

“Not to sound like a doe-eyed innocent,” Natalie said, breaking the silence. “But haven’t done this with a… well… quite frankly, a stranger before. That was…”

Refreshing. Wonderful, A god-send.

She let the sentence hang awkwardly in the air and she cleared her throat. A pinkish blush touched the apples of her cheeks.

“Thank you,” she said after a moment’s silence. “That was the best I’ve had in four years.”

[Deleted]

Myron Bolitar


People who just had sex roasting by an open fire… the smell of tea nipping at his nose … Yule tide- Alright, yeah, because that’s what you do. Sing A Christmas Song by Nat King Cole, but change the lyrics to reference the amazing sex you just had. Myron Bolitar had after intimacy game for sure. Whatever, it was all out of merriment. Myron could celebrate however he chose to in his mind, but on the outside, he was sitting up close to the fire with nothing but his pants on, sipping on a cup of tea right next to Natalie who was wrapped up in a blanket. He tried to look at the flames as they crackled and popped, but his eyes kept shooting down to steal a glance over at her. The glow the fire cast on her profile. Myron Bolitar really needed to get past the fact that she was beautiful because it was beginning to become distracting.

Yet, she wowed him in more than just her looks tonight. Holy hell was it ever a night, and a young one still at that. Myron Bolitar had imagined what his infamous one night stand would be like as he got ready for the club tonight. Awkward in the beginning, the sex would be decent because either one of them would be wasted or the other just did not know how to work the other one, and then the end would be her asking him to leave or he would slip out. That’s generally how it was done. What happened tonight was completely opposite. It wasn’t awkward, it was fast, it was fiery and hot, and it was everything and more. It was the best sex Myron had had in a long time. Natalie was beautiful- her body was mind blowing, doing the deed in the kitchen was just- well, for some reason it was erotic, and Myron didn’t feel like this odd after effect like he should leave. Instead, they were having tea together near a fire. This wasn’t going to mean they would be dating the next morning but it didn’t mean they weren’t going to respect one another- that’s not how Myron was raised to be no matter if it were a one night stand or not. This was the best of both worlds.

When Myron looked over he saw Natalie looking down into her tea cup. He looked back into the fire, pursing his lips and taking a small sip of his own cup. If only he could read minds. Well, before that he’d probably want to be able to fly first, and then read minds, then be invisible. Knowing what she was thinking could have been scary though. Maybe she was hoping that the freak would get out of her apartment. Maybe she was annoyed that she had to fake everything; which, from the sounds of it, they both couldn’t fake something like that- not gross but the truth. Jesus on a Ritz Bitz he needed to stop being so negative. Maybe she enjoyed herself. There. That was a thought.

Myron Bolitar’s eyes hazed in thought. Was it strange that he couldn’t even think of Madeleine? His mind tried to, but he was too busy living in this moment. Madeleine didn’t get to take him away from tonight. She didn’t get to have that power over him and didn’t deserve it. Myron deserved this and Natalie deserved his full attention.

When he heard her cup hit against the coffee table he was brought back but kept his eyes still on the fire, watching from his side vision as she adjusted herself in the blanket. Myron found it attractive when she covered up after their- erm- kitchen rendezvous. It was just a thing he had. The modesty thing was a turn on. Oh great, that’s just what they needed - him getting turned on again. It was called ‘one’ night stand for a reason. Wow, men were pervs.

“Not to sound like a doe-eyed innocent,”

Myron raised his eyebrow turning his head toward her with a small smile on the one side of his lips.

“But haven’t done this with a… well… quite frankly, a stranger before. “

Hold the friggin phone.

“That was…”

The sexy vixen now turned into something Myron Bolitar had never witnessed in a woman before. Cute. Adorable. She was blushing and something in his chest swelled. He stared at her in the quiet as she seemed to be struggling with what to say next.

“Thank you, that was the best I’ve had in four years.”

At this point Myron Bolitar did his best to keep composure and he was doing a good job, but his brain was a mess. She had never done this before either? Four years? Whew, was this night not turning out like Myron had thought. First off- quick celebration on being ‘the best’ in four years. Which, maybe she hadn’t had sex in four years, but still, he would take it. Four years though? It wasn’t his place to be nosy but he was. He knew nothing about her, and it sounded like pretty personal territory to him. What had happened to her? Also, first one night stand? Go team! Myron tried really hard to fist pound it, but that was so inappropriate. Here Myron Bolitar felt like he was being thrown into a world that everyone was a part of but him. Then look what the world- fate- stars- whatever the hell controls this stuff did. It put the two people tonight that had never experienced something like this, who obviously needed a good one because it had been awhile, and put them together.

Still, she shouldn’t have been thanking him. She shouldn’t have been blushing, no matter how flattering that pink hue was on her complexion about the four year thing. If only she knew the half of his story- then maybe she wouldn’t have felt so… blushy.

“Natalie,” Myron murmured softly, setting down his tea cup over on his side and then turning back to her. He looked into her eyes and smiled. “Thank you. Seriously.”

He took a breath and looked down at the floor in between them and shrugged, “It was my first time with a stranger too, and it has been awhile also for myself and…” Myron met her eyes and lifted a hand to rest against her cheek for a moment. Not that, you know, he was hers now, but it just felt like a moment to do that. “What a hell of a time.” He said with a grin.

Bringing back his hand he returned to face the fire. Nodding to himself, he cocked his head back to her. “We aren’t that different I guess, huh?”

[The Exodus]

Natalie Blackwood

Four years ago, Natalie had been swept up in the midst of an extra-marital affair. And, honestly, the sex wasn’t even that good. It was just better than the non-existent lovemaking she and Lucian were having. Anthony was a selfish lover. He was a selfish man, come to think of it. But what else was Natalie supposed to do? Deal with the shadow of a man haunting her home? Deal with the knowledge that she’d pushed and pulled until her marriage broke? No, Anthony had been a better alternative at the time, if not the best the world had to offer.

But after a year of utter celibacy, of reflection, and of coming to terms with her broken family, Natalie was finally in Eros’ favor again. She had a fulfilling night thus far. She deserved to have a good night. And Myron had been good. Sublime.

She wondered if that was because he did this often. If he had a whole harem collected in some little black book and tonight, none of his usual girls were free. Didn’t some men do that? Natalie wasn’t quite sure. Her experience with men was warped. That she knew. Her mind touched on them each in turn, Daddy, Lucian, Damien, Anthony, and now Myron. She’d been a sheltered girl. Her father was regimented and strict, with a cruel streak. Natalie married the first man she slept with because he was the opposite of Ken Blackwood in every way imaginable. She raised the perfect son, who was now cracking under her pressure. She had an ill-advised affair with a married man. And now… there was Myron.

Myron likely thought she sounded like some dopey school girl for saying any of that out loud. Best in four years was true. It was better to sound naïve than to reveal the brand of crazy her life had been in the last several years.

“Natalie,” Myron murmured softly, setting down his tea cup over on his side and then turning back to her. He looked into her eyes and smiled. “Thank you. Seriously.”

She blinked and then stared at him. He thanked her? That put a new spin on the phrase “wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am”, didn’t it? She wasn’t used to being thanked. She was used to Antony drifting off to sleep or Lucian breathing a sleepy, ‘You’re wonderful’ before asking if she was still planning to repaint the parlor. No one thanked her. Not for sex, not for anything. A lump welled in her throat, even though curiosity told her that there might be more to this “thank you”. “Thank you” was enough. More than she’d heard in years.

“It was my first time with a stranger too,” Myron confessed. “And it has been awhile also for myself and…”

Myron paused and then, meeting her gaze, he placed a warm hand to her cheek. Natalie leaned into it just a bit, surprised by how much she liked the tender motion. How much she missed having tender moments.

What a hell of a time.”

Myron retracted his hand and grinned. Natalie followed him with her eyes. They stung a little, but she told herself it was from smoke from the fire.


“We aren’t that different I guess, huh?”

Natalie smiled. She suddenly imagined Myron as a divorcee, like she was, but without the affair, the broken husband, bitter family, and moody son. She wondered if he had children of his own. Or maybe he was a widower. A serial monogamist, at the very least.

“Maybe not so different,” she said. She stretched her legs out so that her toes could warm beside the fire. “Thank God for that. It’s so isolating sometimes. You think everyone else knows what they’re doing and that you’re the only one in uncharted territory.”

She grinned at him, her fellow explorer on this foray into this world of one night stands.

“I think you and I got extremely lucky tonight, Myron.”

[Deleted]

Myron Bolitar

Were tender moments allowed in one night stands? Myron Bolitar wasn’t so sure that he should continue to think how everyone else and their mom went about one night stands (did he just say mom? Ew), but just focus on the here and now. Here was Natalie Blackwood’s apartment, and now was that they were talking and getting to know one another a little better. This made Myron feel more like an actual acquaintance and not some midnight prowler who wanted a cheap bow-chika-wah-wow. Which, sure, maybe wasn’t the point of a one night stand in men world, but that’s how Myron Bolitar chose to roll. Anyways, there was something in Natalie Blackwood that surprised Myron, and something that told him tonight needed to be taken not so light like a feather, because in some way it pulled on both of their heart strings.

Hold the phone- heart strings? Didn’t Lady Gaga say that in a song? Ugh. Toddy St. James needed to get his own place.

A lot of guys out there would have said they had too many one nighters to count, or make some douche joke to prove that they were like King Kong banging his chest on top of a building. It was that whole, guys feeding into the pig stereotype but thinking that they were holding some kind of pride. Myron Bolitar told her the truth because he knew that her admitting it being her first time and it had been four years since a good one wasn’t easy. Myron didn’t feel so alone. Before this, he had Santiago, but it wasn’t the same. Santiago had experienced heart break. Well, duh, it wasn’t everyday someone comes barging in his apartment begging him to take a gun away from him so he wouldn’t do something stupid. But currently, Santiago wasn’t where Myron was and sometimes it was hard. Although if they were going through the same thing at the same time, the world as everyone knew it would be destroyed. But tonight Myron had Natalie. In a physical sense, and it was beginning to get… Well, emotional. They were talking, and that was okay.

“Maybe not so different.”

Myron smirked to himself, watching with amusement as she stretched her legs out, watching as her toes set by the fire.

“Thank God for that. It’s so isolating sometimes. You think everyone else knows what they’re doing and that you’re the only one in uncharted territory.”

They both were grinning at one another. Myron Bolitar felt better. He felt dumb for never having a one night stand, a little naive and less of a man. Well, the universe was proving his mindset wrong, wasn’t it? Myron looked at Natalie and didn’t feel like such a putz anymore. In fact, he was happy that he had waited this long because the way tonight was matched up was perfect.

“I think you and I got extremely lucky tonight, Myron.”

He smirked, “Sexually and emotionally.”

“Which, in my opinion,” Myron began, sliding closer to her because either he was cold or just, you know, wanted some physical contact. “Is the best of both worlds.” He told her, wrapping an arm around her and beginning to massage the base of her neck, letting his fingers linger up into her scalp. He looked at her blonde hair and loved the difference in color that he had seen most of his days.

“But I do want to apologize on behalf of the male population.” Myron murmured, continuing to massage her while looking into the fire. He smirked, “Not being pleasured in a long time, and being a wonderful beautiful woman like yourself…” He nodded to himself, “Either it was by choice or men just suck.”

Oh. Wait. Myron Bolitar kinda’ just wanted to grab at his words and eat them. Sure, let’s just shoot an arrow at what probably already hurts or just sing a song about how she was under laid. Sometimes, much like the rest of the world, Myron wondered why he was born with vocal chords.

He swallowed, looking over at her apologetically. “I didn’t mean to, uh, insult you if I did.” He said, his hand stopping to rest against her shoulder, “I just have this tendency to talk. It’s a horrible habit.”

[The Exodus]

Natalie Blackwood

“Sexually and emotionally,” said Myron with a smirk.

Natalie blanched. Despite the truth of his words, Natalie didn’t expect Myron to say them. She didn’t expect anyone to. She was used to political correctness. She’d lived her life being the politically correct wife of the politically correct politician. Picture perfect on the outside, whatever you felt on the inside. What you did behind closed doors, what you said, was just as guarded as what you did in public, lest you get caught. Natalie’s affair had been very covert. She hadn’t been able to speak her mind to Anthony much. He’d spoken even less candidly with her. She hadn’t even known he was a married man for the first two years of being with him.

And now, here was this stranger telling Natalie exactly where they stood with each other. Not holding back. Even if it wasn’t how Natalie would have said it, how anyone she knew would have said it, Myron said exactly what she was thinking.

Did she laugh? Was she supposed to be appalled with herself for agreeing?

She studied him carefully.

“Which, in my opinion,” Myron began, sliding closer to her because either he was cold or just, you know, wanted some physical contact. “Is the best of both worlds.”

Natalie molded against him. The feeling of Myron’s fingers on her neck didn’t set her off like a rocket, the way he had before. But it was nicer than any physical contact she’d had in ages. It was actually comfortable, comforting. He massaged at her and Natalie’s coiled spine relaxed. She shut her eyes. Myron smelled good. Sweat tinged faintly with alcohol from the bar mingled with something clean. Aftershave or cologne, she couldn’t tell. Natalie didn’t care to know. She just cared that this felt nice. Best of both worlds, indeed.

“But I do want to apologize on behalf of the male population,” Myron murmured, continuing to massage her, “Not being pleasured in a long time, and being a wonderful beautiful woman like yourself…” He nodded to himself, “Either it was by choice or men just suck.”

Natalie’s eyes shot open. She met Myron’s gaze. His skin had gone waxy with worry. His dark eyes, large with shock. They both seemed surprised at what he’d said.

“I didn’t mean to, uh, insult you if I did.” He said, his hand stopping to rest against her shoulder, “I just have this tendency to talk. It’s a horrible habit.”

Natalie laughed. The sound swelled up from her stomach and bubbled out of her, shaking her shoulders and her head so that her sweat-damp hair swayed back and forth.

“It’s always a bit of both, isn’t it?” she said, still smiling once her laughter died. “I didn’t mean to choose a man who, as you so eloquently said, ‘sucked’. But it was my choice. Besides, not all men are awful.”

She looked pointedly at Myron and her smile deepened.

“I mean, you’re the first to thank me and apologize to me in the span of five minutes without some foreseeable agenda.”

[Deleted]

Myron Bolitar

Myron Bolitar understood that he was one blunt b*stard. He went places so other people didn’t have to, or just because he wanted to. Sometimes even he didn’t understand his ways though, and now was just one of those times. Natalie could kick him out at any point after this. Not that he was being a complete mean *ss, but he could be considered an annoyance at this point. Gee, was that really such a shock though?

Natalie Blackwood laughed. Myron’s head did a double take over at her, and he wondered if she had hit her head on the kitchen countertop or what? He stopped tensing and chuckled a little with her, but still uneasily letting it slip through his teeth because who knew with women. Myron Bolitar liked making people laugh to the point where he’d probably do physically anything to get a laugh, but it hadn’t felt this good to hear someone laugh with him in a long time. Mostly because it had been the land of doom and gloom up until this point.

“It’s always a bit of both, isn’t it?”

They both were smiling from the after laugh effect. It was true. Myron Bolitar felt the same. Er- not about men, but the other gender. Myron chose to not have sex somewhat, but that’s because women sucked as of a while ago. At least in his perspective.

“I didn’t mean to choose a man who, as you so eloquently said, ‘sucked’. But it was my choice.”

Curiosity killed the cat. Curiosity killed the cat. Myron Bolitar took a breath, trying to exhale all the nosiness that was happening. It wasn’t his place. They weren’t coffee buds or anything. Still, she was like this mystery that he understood to the point that he felt the same way, but just enough to where he knew their stories were different. Mean ex-boyfriend? Failed was-going-to-be-a-marriage-but-family-needed-my-help-or-people-would-die… Oh wait, that was him.

“Besides, not all men are awful.”

Myron looked at her to see she was smiling at him. His eyes squinted at her warmly.

“I mean, you’re the first to thank me and apologize to me in the span of five minutes without some foreseeable agenda.”

It was Myron’s turn to laugh. His fingers gave her a tender squeeze as he did, draping over the rest of her shoulder to run his fingers lightly up and down her arm. Looking back at the fire, he shrugged. “Yeah, I’m an *ss with a heart of complete mush.”

It was true, but he’d never admitted it out loud. Myron Bolitar loved attention, fed off people’s reactions whether they be good or bad, he loved getting a rise out of people, and saying just the weirdest stuff. But through all that, was… Well, it was the man grandma and grandpa Bolitar had worked all their years to raise. Believe it or not, and a lot of people chose not to believe it. Alright, so was there something in this tea or what?

With a sigh, his eyes seem to get lost in the fire. “Yeah…” He trailed off, thinking back to just how much sometimes people in general and things in general just sucked. How relationships or marriages or even friendships could just fail and sometimes there was just no fixing them. “Everyone goes through their handful that just… sucks.” He winced. It hit home. Then he shook it off and smirked over at Natalie. Tonight wasn’t a night to be sad, or that dramatic bitter one night stand guy.

Myron looked at her and gave her a little squeeze against him. “But it all gets better.” He looked up at the ceiling in thought, pursing his lips, and looked at her with a grin. “At least, that is what everyone says to make it feel better.”

[The Exodus]

Natalie Blackwood

After all, he’d already slept with her and it wasn’t as if Myron Bolitar was pining for Natalie’s approval. It was refreshing to hear sincerity.

“Yeah, I’m an *ss with a heart of complete mush,” said Myron.

A more sober, less relaxed Natalie would recoil at the swearing. In her corner of the universe, vulgarity was reserved for only the most stressful times. She didn’t swear around her parents or in front of Damien. Never in front of Milly. The woman was practically a cloistered saint-in-the-making. Cursing, for Natalie, was what you did when you were out of other words. When you couldn’t say something properly otherwise. She never understood its adoption by the masses. Her lip curled into a strange smile.

Americans.

At least Myron was laughing. He made her want to laugh, too, even if she wasn’t quite sure how to.

“Yeah…” He trailed off. “Everyone goes through their handful that just… sucks.” Myron looked at her and gave her a little squeeze against him. “But it all gets better.” He looked up at the ceiling in thought, pursing his lips, and looked at her with a grin. “At least, that is what everyone says to make it feel better.”

Natalie huffed out a laugh.

“Very comforting,” she said wryly. She was fairly certain most anything was better than her lot had been in the last few years. “But man… or woman… does not live on optimism alone. Face it, Myron. You and I aren’t optimists. We’re opportunists. Which is, I think, infinitely more effective.”

[Deleted]

Myron Bolitar


A lot of things were suppose to make people feel better. Sayings, Julia Roberts films, super hero socks, other people's pain, and friend advice. It was suppose to but not a lot of it truly did work. It worked for awhile, but then bam, it was back to the sulking board. Although Pretty Woman did have a longer lasting effect Myron came to realize. That's why when people say thingsl ike 'it will get better' that is laugh worthy.

Which is what Natalie kinda' did. Well, more of a huff, but Myron was right there with her.

“Very comforting."

Myron Bolitar huffed too.

“But man… or woman… does not live on optimism alone. Face it, Myron. You and I aren’t optimists. We’re opportunists. Which is, I think, infinitely more effective.”

Damn, was she smart or what. Myron never thought he'd stuff what he was into a nutshell, but he was the nut and there was the shell. He never saw himself as an opportunist, but she had a point. Myron had always attempted at being the mega optimist, but that, you know, was just a joke. "I agree." Myron said simply, looking at the fire and nodding with a smile. He liked the sound of it. They were more effective people. "We're a special kinda' species I guess." Myron said with a smirk.

Sliding his arm out from around her, Myron hunched forward, holding his knees to his bare chest and having a look around. "You're place is lovely, by the way." He said, looking over his shoulder at her. "Meant to tell you that but we both got a little distracted."

[The Exodus]

Natalie Blackwood

Optimism was poisonous. It inflated confidence to cockiness, gave you rose-colored glasses, and warped the world around you. You missed opportunities when you were so blinded by the notion that everything was smooth sailing. If you wanted something, you didn’t hope for it. You went out and got it. She and Myron both had gone into that bar tonight with goals. If they wasted time then, they wouldn’t be here now.

"I agree," said Myron. "We're a special kinda' species I guess."

Natalie smiled. Special wasn’t a word she’d heard in a while, either. Usually, when it was implied that she was “special”, it was said in a way that made her feel like that was a bad thing.

You are something else, Nat. Jesus Christ.

Well, aren’t you a piece of work?

Myron pulled away. Natalie wondered what he was thinking. She didn’t want to pry; it wasn’t her place to ask. Instead, she hazarded a glance out the window. The Eiffel Tower glittered with golden lights, towering above the rest of the city. She used to think it was quite ugly, the Eiffel Tower. Some architect’s overcompensation project. But now, she’d grown accustomed to it. Maybe she even liked it. It made everything about tonight seem less like a one-night stand, the location. It was Paris, City of Love. And even though she didn’t believe in that, even though she didn’t dare imagine that she and Myron were lovers now, it lent a glow to everything. It was okay to have an affair—or even a one night stand—in Paris. But not in Salisbury. Never Salisbury again.

You're place is lovely, by the way." He said, looking over his shoulder at her. "Meant to tell you that but we both got a little distracted."

Natalie smiled and looked around. She was prouder of the place than she should have been. She wasn’t paying for it, after all. Perhaps that was actually why she was proud of it. She had gotten one over on her ex-husband. If he could have his three-story mini-mansion and twenty three year old fiancée, Natalie could have a penthouse suite and an attractive American tryst at his expense.

A more attractive, younger, less embittered American tryst.

“Thanks,” she said, plucking up her teacup. “I just finished moving in last week. I’d been living out of boxes since August. Technically, you’re my first real guest.”

She didn’t count Damien and Bill on this one, as they were her son and her son’s best friend, visiting only for some home cooked food and to help her move furniture.

Natalie raised her cup at Myron, as if toasting him. “You’re the king of firsts tonight.”

[Deleted]

Myron Bolitar

Everything about tonight was impressive and terrifingly close to home for Myron on a he could relate level. Beautiful woman, grand crib, fantastic sex, something bad with a sucky relationsh*t- whatever that may have been, and first one night stand. Like, too good to be true sounded amazing when said, but when it really happened in real life situations, it felt like some twisted joke. Where was Ashton or the hidden cameras? Not that money or anything mattered either, but the place was rocked out to a point where Myron Bolitar was curious as to what Natalie Blackwood did for a living. But they weren't twelve and going to begin a game of twenty questions. Although, Myron was quite the pro at Never Have I Ever ...

“Thanks."

"Mhmm..." Myron Bolitar was still looking around, and also lingering a few moments at any clues lying around that would give him any sign or clue as to more of what Natalie Blackwood was about. Because, you know, Myron Bolitar: The next Sherlock Holmes.

“I just finished moving in last week. I’d been living out of boxes since August. Technically, you’re my first real guest.”

Myron raised an eyebrow over at her, smirking as she lifted her teacup.

“You’re the king of firsts tonight.”

This made Myron Bolitar bust out into a laugh, which he rarely ever gave people the pleasure knowing that they were funny- because Christ forbid someone be as funny as him, and he lolled backwards, falling on his forearms and outstretching his body to lie on the floor but still be held up by his arms. Sighing, he grinned looking at the fire. He supposed he was, and she was for him too in many ways. So, tonight was special, wasn't it? When Myron looked over at Natalie again and did that squint into her eyes, the fire crackling in the color to make it gleam, he could tell she was something special too. Not in the- overly attached-holy-crap-we're-going-to-date-and-have-babies, but Myron knew that if tonight were going to be the lastnight they would ever see one another in anyway, they would be damn fools. Yeah, he knew that quickly too. Lucky for him they were both oppurtunists.

"I'll be sure to pick up my crown later." He murmured to her with a wink.

Looking back at the fire, he pursed his lips in thought. "What would you be doing tonight if you hadn't gone out?"