...Eh.

I don't really like this, but I spent forever on it.

Disclaimer: Degrassi. I do not own.

OH! And if you've ever watched Gilmore girls, who can see the similarities between the bar in this and Luke's Diner. (

It was a dark and stormy night, the wind was blowing and people all across the county were losing electricity. The number of cars became more frequent as people drove into the brightly lit town, glad to see some light. There were few places to go in the town, so, most people went into the shabby little bar at the corner of Main Street.

That bar was "The place to be" in that town. The bar was old and run-down but the townspeople swore that they had the best beer there. The place could fill aproximately twenty people, so it was a whoever-got-there-first kind of deal. Everyone who was legal went there and even people who weren't did. Nothing exciting actually happened there, but it was either the bar or the local grocery store.

If you looked around the bar, you'd see the same people that came every Saturday night. The bikers were in the back corner, ignoring the 'No Smoking' sign above their heads. The old men were in the front, checking out every female that walked by. The underage teenagers were snickering, thinking that they were drinking punch mixed in with vodka, when really, they were just drinking punch and Dr. pepper mixed together. (The bartender wasn't stupid, but she found it funny when the teenagers acted "Drunk", all of them stumbling around and laughing loudly.)

And then, there was bartender giving discreet looks to a dark fellow on the oppisite side of her. Her body leaned towards him and he happily watched her. Her motions were quiet, but you could see her gently petting his ring finger, the one holding his skull ring. The man was wearing all black and you could tell from the side view that he had a smirk on his flawless lips. His combat boots rested dangerously on the floor and his leather jacket made him look intimidating. His dark locks were swayed to the side, giving him an I-don't-give-a-fuck type of look. His green orbs shone brightly with lust and hunger for the girl in front of him. The girl simply smirked and muttered, "Five minutes"

The man rolled his eyes playfully and looked around the old place, trying to get rid of the tightning in his pants. He had come there every Saturday night and he still wasn't used to the girl. Her touch was electric, making his hair stand up. (Among other things) Her lips tasted like sweet oranges, making him only wanting more of her delicous fruit. And the things she could do made his mind unravel.

He watched her walk over to one of the tables and he smirked, enjoying the view. He didn't mind if he looked at her like that, but he wanted to kill the next guy that did.

And they weren't even dating.

Did he love her? No. It would take more than all the Saturdays in a year to love someone, but the man definetly felt something for the girl. She made him feel young, not that twenty- four was old, but with her, he felt sixteen and reckless. He felt new and shiny, like a brand new toy on christmas morning.

She walked back to him and smiled. He leaned down slowly, teasing her.

She wouldn't take that. She grabbed the back of his neck and brought him down forcefully. But right when she was going to kiss him, the lights went out.

Gasps and screams filled the room and the manager came out of the storage room to assure that everything was going to be okay.

"I think it's been five minutes." The man had leaned down and whispered in her ear.

She shivered at the lust in his voice and she nodded feebly, taking his hand and groping the walls, trying to find the staircase. When she reached the bottom stair, he took over and lead them up the dark stairway.

Both of them began to remember the night when they first met...

A ringing chimed through the bar, signalling that someone was entering.

The men that came in hollered and yelled, as if the person next to them couldn't hear what they were saying. Clare didn't understand why people were so loud at a bar, even when they weren't drunk. Did they ever hear of common courtesy?

The shattering of a beer glass was heard.

Apparently not.

Clare muttered angrily under her breath. She'd be the one who'd have to clean up the mess. She'd be the one who'd get her ass slapped once again. It was like this every Saturday night and she was tired of it. Clare wanted a new job, a different boss, and to get away from the assholes that she had to serve.

The only person that wasn't giving her trouble was the man in the corner of the room. He had a hat on that covered his face and dark clothing adorned his figure. His combat boot tapped slightly to the metal song playing softly in the background. Clare had studied him the whole night, wondering what his face looked like. Was he handsome? Was he bad? Her imagination was running wild.

She could only guess that he was bad. The way he carried himself was definetly dangerous. When he had entered, his walk was smooth and slow, creating a certain aura about him. He was one of those people that you can't help but notice.

And for a reason that Clare did not know, she was attracted to him.

She had always been attracted to the bad guys. The ones that were tough and charming. There was something about them that made her tick. And he definetly made her tick. His rail-thin body was slightly elegant and fit right with the rest of him. His long fingers gripped the edge of the table and he stood up.

And now, when he was grabbing his leather jacket to leave, she wanted to say something to him.

"Hey, you!"

Clare snapped out of her thoughts and turned towards the voice. A man around the age of thirty-five sat a table with his buddies. He sported a beer belly and he was obviously drunk, with alcohol running down his obtuse beard.

She sighed and went over to the man. Of course, he was the one who had dropped the glass. The tiny fragments of glass were under his feet and the men were snickering slightly at a private joke. The man with the beard smiled wide and gestured towards the ground. Clare gave a fake smile and got down on her knees and started picking up the large pieces of glass. It was times like these when she hated her job with a passion. She hated these kind of men, the dirty and disgusting ones that made her feel worthless. I mean, did they think that Clare was stupid? She could see all the sexual gestures that they were doing, out of the corner of her eye. She rolled her eyes at the man with the beard. Did he think that she didn't notice him pointing at her and then pointing at his crotch?

She shuddered at the idea of giving him a blowjob.

And then, something caught her eye. A sparkle of light flashed in front of her eyes.

A golden ring sat on the man's finger.

A wedding ring.

A pang of sadness went through Clare's body. She knew that somewhere, his wife was sitting by herself, waiting for her husband to come home. She probably didn't know that he was at a bar, looking to get laid.

"Your wife must be so grateful to have a husband like you." Clare said in a sweet tone, though it was dripping with venom.

The guys laughed and the man with the beard said, "Nah. She's a bitch!"

Clare clenched her teeth tightly together. She wanted to slap, to punch him, to-

"Thank you, Miss.!" The man said joyfully. Clare got up and held onto the pieces of glass, fighting the urge to throw them at the man. She nodded curtly and began to walk away.

Slap.

Chuckle.

Clare stopped for a moment and felt the stinging on her ass. She had been civil to him, but now...

She walked briskly to the counter and placed the pieces of glass on it, making a mental note to herself to take care of it later. She turned on her heel and began to walk towards the man. He was chuckling stupidly at her and beckoned with his hand for her to come forward. Clare's hands were in tight fists and her face was screwed up in concentration. The man turned to look at his friends and at that point, all of the men were doubled over from laughter.

Clare reached them, lifted up her hand, and skin-on-skin friction was heard.

The bar went silent, everyone looking at the women's raised hand and the man's bruised cheek. Silence radiated throughout the everyone's ears, creating a buzzing in the atmosphere.

The man gaped at Clare and Clare gaped at her hand, feeling a bit remorseful. She had always told people that violence was never the answer and here she was, using violence. But when she saw the flash of the man's wedding ring, all the regret that she felt had went out the window.

The man stood up and towered over her. "You bitch." He growled and got closer to her. He leaned closer and closer to her face, his breath fanning across her nostrils. He smelled bitter and unwashed. The man raised his hand up, cocked it backwards, but before it could reach her face, someone had caught it.

The mystery man.

He had thrown his leather jacket off and his hat. Clare smiled slightly at him, glad that she hadn't been slapped. And she couldn't help but notice that the intitial attraction that she first felt for him had increased. His bone structure was perfect, it made his squared jaw stick out. His nose was a perfect slope and his bow-like lips were plump and pink. His dark hair hung on the sides of his head gracefully. Clare urged to run her hands through his hair.

The man with the beard grunted and turned to Clare's savior. They stepped towards each. They stood chest-to-chest, both of them staring intently at each other.

"Didn't your mother ever teach you to not hit women?" The dark haired man growled, his finger hitting the man's chest at every word.

"Does that mean that I can't hit you?" The bearded man replied, earning a laugh from his buddies.

The mystery man laughed slightly and then smirked. "No. But it means that I can't hit you."

Nobody saw it coming. It was swift and smooth and impressive.

The dark haired man was thrown back from the force of the man's punch. The man lay on the ground, holding his eye. Clare stared at the injured man and then turned her attention towards the bearded man. He shrugged and glanced at the 'NO FIGHTING' sign. Clare glared at him and pointed towards the door. The man shook his head slighty and muttered, "This is bullshit." and he and his buddies left.

Clare walked over to the dark haired young adult and squatted next to him.

"Are you alright?" She asked quietly, concern was laced in her voice.

The man's head shot up and he smirked, a nasty bruise forming on his right eye. "Of course."

Clare smiled and stood up. She held her hand out for him to take it. She pulled him up and nodded to the stairs. "Lets clean you up."

He raised his eyebrows and she just smiled in reply and she led him up the steep stairs.

.

.

.

"It's the owner's apartment, " She explained, gesturing around the room. "It's a good idea, right? To have your house and work in the same place?"

The man shrugged and looked around the one-room apartment. "I don't know. I like the drive from work to my apartment. It calms me." Clare nodded in agreement and walked to the freezer to get the ice.

"I know what you mean. Obviously, you've seen me at my job, and most of the time I need time to think." She said, wrapping the ice in a piece of cloth.

"Where is the owner, anyway?" The man called, picking up different objects that were scattered around the apartment.

"Out. He's always out at this time of the night." Clare said, shugging.

"Ah." The man snickered at the mess of cloth and ice that clare had esembled and she jumped, not knowing that he was right behind her.

She smirked and handed him the ice. He took it and then proceeded to put it back on the counter. He walked slowly to her and her heart thumped dramatically. He was then close enough that his lips grazed her cheek and he could feel her heartbeat on his chest.

"Uh...I-uh- Thank you? Uh-Thank you for-um-helping me." Clare gasped out as his emerald eyes bored down into her ocean ones.

He nipped at her jawline and she gasped. "My, my, Clare Edwards,you taste so sweet! " The man murmered, trailing kisses down her neck. Clare's eyes were rolling back and her grip tightened on his shoulders.

"How do you know my name?" Clare gasped, gently pushing him away. He smirked at the way he was effecting her. Her chest rose up and down and her cheeks were bright red.

"I have my ways." He smirked and then started trailing his fingers down her arm, a shiver went down her spine. "Did you think that I wouldn't notice you staring at me, hmmm? Did you think that I wouldn't notice the lust in your eyes?"

And she couldn't take it anymore. Her mom's words about not being a floozy had completely gone out the window. She grabbed the man's shirt roughly and pulled him towards her. Clare tangled her fingers into his dark, soft hair and kissed him. His tongue peaked out and made its way into her mouth. Their tongues were battling and he then shoved against the nearest wall. He started unbuckling his belt and started taking her clothes off, but she stopped him.

"Just one thing...?" The man looked at her, smirking."What's your name?"

The man laughed and continued to take her clothes off. When they were both naked, before he thrust into her, he muttered, "My name is Eli."

"Eli." Clare muttered, liking the sound of his name on her tongue.

And that's when their Saturday nights began to tangle together.

"Why is it that you always have me against a wall?" Clare muttered, raking her hands through Eli's hair. Her legs were wrapped tightly around his waist and her arms clutched onto his shoulders. The darkness of the room only made their embrace more passionate.

Eli chuckled and took her breast into his mouth, he chewed and sucked on it greedily. Her head hit the wall behind her and her legs wrapped tighter around the man's waist. He smirked at her movements.

He ran his cold fingers down her back and goosebumps appeared on her delicate skin. He abandoned her breast and started to trace her collar bone with his tongue. He left kisses on her shoulder and began to suck on that spot.

"Ah!" Clare gasped.

"Really, Edwards? Tell me more." Eli muttered mockingly and Clare tried her best to glare at him, but couldn't, due to the pressure that he was putting on her center.

"Oh, Elijah," Clare sighed and panted. "Just...Just, please!" Clare couldn't take the slow motion of his fingers inside of her. She needed more. She needed him.

"What would you like, Clare? You have to tell me. What is it that you always say" Eli pretended to ponder that thought for a moment. "Oh, yes! Communication is key! Isn't that what you always say, Clare? Isn't-"

"Fuck me." Clare gasped, never have said that before. But that's what she wanted. That's what she needed.

Eli groaned and rested his head on her shoulder. "Well, if you insist."

He grabbed her hips tightly and swiftly thrust in, marvelling at how tight she was. He smiled at the gasp that she let out, loving the innocence of it.

Clare bit down on his shoulder roughly, trying not to scream as he pounded into her. Eli fought the urge to laugh. She always refused to scream. And he always made sure that she let out at least one scream and he hadn't failed yet.

"Scream, Clare." Eli panted, making his thrusts deeper and more pronounced. He moaned loudly in her ear and heard her whimper lighty. But no scream came out of her pink lips.

"No." Clare gasped and clenched her teeth together.

"No? Are you sure, Clare?" Eli smirked and leaned down by her ear. "You know the things that I could do to you."

Clare whimpered and Eli shook his head lightly.

Eli rotated his hips and continued to thrust into her. He nibbled on the spot below her ear and trailed his hands down her back slowly. Her nails became claws as she scratched them down his back. He groaned and threw his head back. He pressed her against the wall harder and made sure that every thrust he made, her back would thump against the cold wall.

Clare bit down her lip to stop the scream bubbling inside of her. She hit her fist against the wall, trying desperately to stop the noises that were threatening to explode.

"Just say it, Clare. You're just going to lose." Eli whispered huskily.

Clare's breathing increased rapidly and her head hit the wall with a 'thud'. She knew she was going to lose. She always did.

"Say my name, Clare. Say it."

And she snapped. Her resistance snapped completely and she couldn't help it. He knew what made her tick. He knew her secret spots and knew things that nobody else knew about. He had her wrapped around her finger.

"Elijah!" She screeched and she went into pure bliss.

His thrusts slowed down and he muttered, "I told you that you'd lose."

"Shut up." Clare replied, shakily. Eli laughed and he pulled out of her.

He gently set them down on the carpeted floor and she snuggled up to his chest. They knew that when the lights turned on they would go back to just having an affair, but they couldn't help but want more from each other.

"What are you doing after this?" Clare asked, sleepily.

"Probably just going out." Eli replied, though truthfully, he was going nowhere."What about you?"

Clare shrugged against his naked body and sighed. "Sleep. Going home. Hopefully not in that order, though."

Eli laughed and held her tighter against his body. For some reason, he didn't want to let go.

Eli knew that Clare thought that he was a tough guy and probably slept with many girls. He knew that she thought that he was a bit of a man-whore who couldn't keep it in his pants.

But she was wrong, so very wrong.

She was the only girl that he slept with. And while he didn't love her, he couldn't see himself with anyone else. In the beginning of their affair, he had tried to sleep with other girls but it felt odd and it didn't feel right. He didn't get that electric feel with anyone else but Clare. Clare had the touch of the devil, forbidden and fiery, but it felt so good that he couldn't help but want her.

And he couldn't help but feel angry when the lights turned on. It was time to go there seperate ways. Eli got up slowly and Clare soon followed and they both began to put on their clothes, watching each other.

Once their last articles of clothing was on, they stared at each other. "Well, Edwards, I should probably go now." Eli said, scratching his head.

Clare smiled lightly and nodded. "Yeah, they're probably looking for me downstairs."

"Until next Saturday?"

"Until next Saturday." Clare declared and Eli began to walk down the stairs.

Eli was still putting on his leather jacket as he went down the stairs and he couldn't help but notice that her scent was on it. The lavender scent that made his mouth water. He smiled softly at the jacket and brought the collar up to him, so he could smell it again. Even though she wasn't going to be near him, he took comfort that he could still smell her scent.

And as he walked towards his car, he made a promise to himself.

Next week, he'd ask Clare Edwards on a date.

WHAT THE HELL IS THIS? I have no idea! This was supposed to be innocent and lovely!...

Does it make sense? Probably not...

Review?