Bitter love in a brothel, but this call girl isn't in love with a customer. All he wants to do is keep her safe but how can he protect her from the life she chose? All he can do watch as she gets in way over her head. (More info inside, PLEASE R&R)

Disclaimer: it's fiction, it's mine…yadda yadda yadda…

Roxanne "Roxie" Evens has always been one bad girl, now she's leading the life of one whose gotten in way too deep. Working as a call girl in the "Scarlet Hall" a trashy brothel in the slums of London, you would think she'd completely lost all hope… But not Roxie, never. One day she'll get away, she will, just you wait and see.

Martin "Kib" Kibben is the most innocent soul he knows, and defiantly the most innocent person working at "Scarlet Hall." So why on earth does he waste his life and talent away, playing the background music in a call house that is so obviously beneath him? For her of course.

Roxie and Kib are inseparable, they'd had dreams of 'happily ever after' ever since they were children. Then Reality came knocking, and more time passed the more Roxie changed until she was no longer the girl Kib knew so well. Now, at the ages of 17 (Roxie) and 19 (Kib) they've hit what must be rock bottom, and the only reason Kib is sticking around is because, in spite of her, himself, and everything…well you'll just have to find out won't you?

In the Name of Love

By: DSC (SJK)

1

Promises

"We're going to be together forever aren't we Kib?" Roxanne asked, looking up at him with her sky blue eyes, almost pleading him.

He knelt down to her height, even though he was only two years older he towered over her. Kissing her tear stained cheeks, one than the other, he smoothed her long light hair back out of her face, "forever."

"But whose going to take care of us..? now that… now that…" fresh tears spilled down her pale cheeks. Kib wrapped his arms around her in a tight hug, letting her cry into his shoulder. Crying was good, sometimes he'd wished he'd cried more instead of always holding it in, it did things to a person after a while. He kissed the top of her head, knowing already, even at eleven, that he loved her, and was going to love her for the rest of his life, no matter what happened. They weren't alone, they had each other, they were always going to have each other.

"I'm going to take care of you," He said, pulling her a little away so that their eyes could lock, "I will always take care of you Roxanne, always, I promise…"

"You're doing it again," a teasing voice in his ear brought Kib back to the present, he grunted, pushing the voice… and the mouth it was coming from it away from him. Roxie straightened and seated herself on Kib's desk, although it was their apartment, most of the things in it belonged solely to Kib, and though he was usually generous about sharing most of them, the desk was one thing she was forbidden to touch. "You're talking in your sleep."

"You better not be doing what I think you're doing," he murmured groggily, making his warning tones rather comical.

"Well I might and I might not, what do you think I'm doing?" she examined her nails dully as she spoke, her voice dripping with false innocence.

He rolled over and chucked his pillow at her, "get off it Roxanne!"

"Roxie," she clarified, dodging the pillow easily.

He lunged at her, "sounds like a dogs name," she darted from the desk, and he gave chase, dodging the books and other objects she tossed in his direction.

"Oh and 'Kib' is just so much better…"

Obviously Kib had no come back for this so he put all his effort into catching her, which he finally did, but on impact tripped. They tumbled and landed together in a heap on Roxanne's bed, where he proceeded to tickle her until neither of them could breath.

Kib rolled off her and fell back next to her on the bed, "well…" he said breathlessly, "no one can say we don't get our exercise."

"What the neighbors must think of us…"

"Like you care," he took her hand and kissed it softly. The moment was broken as she pulled it away sharply and rose from the bed, a sudden air of awkwardness in the room, stifling, choking. He sat and pulled his knees up, resting his arms across them as he watched her. "Where were you last night?" he asked with baited breath, though he already knew the answer.

She went to the wash basin in the corner and splashed the day old water in her face, "you know very well where I was."

He shook his head, "I was at the Hall, you weren't there," she stopped, water dripping from her face, staring hard at her reflection in the water, "where were you Roxie?"

She wiped her face hastily with a hand towel and, without a word, climbed back out the fire escape window, from whence, he was sure, she'd come only moments before. He hurried to it, pulling his trousers on as he did so, climbing out into the early morning fog, "Roxanne--"

She was already halfway down the steps, "I'll see you later tonight Kib."

The dim light and fragrant smoky air was intoxicating, even to Kib, who happened to be the only sober one in the entire place…and it was only six o'clock. He was hiding, like he always did, behind his music, behind his borrowed suit and tie, behind his emotionless eyes, but he saw everything… or well more importantly he saw Roxanne and the man, who was, at the present moment, groping her chest. For this he had chosen to play a particularly loud sort of bitter song. Her eyes were glazed with an empty expression and beneath the puppet string smile he could see her pain, the man however was getting well into it, a grotesque grin of sick pleasure on his blandly drawn face, his dirty beetle eyes seeming to bore right through her suggestive clothing. One of the man's hands started to move up her thigh, further and further until he reached her skimpy lingerie-- Kib hit the wrong note.

This was why she was here, to do…this. He knew it, he'd known it since the beginning, but every night he watched, he saw everything…and every night he discovered that his heart could in fact break just a bit more without killing him.

"Kibben…" a hand, feminine but rough, stroked his neck, inching just a bit farther down his shirt than was appropriate, "what's wrong?"

He nodded toward Roxanne, "Maxine…please I…"

She kissed his ear, running her hands this time down the front of his shirt, "that's her job Kib, meanwhile--"

"Maxine please."

She straightened, knowing she was, for what seemed the hundredth time, being rejected by what the Scarlet Girls viewed as the ultimate prize, "damn Kib… you're not a man… what are you?"

"Stop it, stop them… please."

She squeezed his shoulder, "Alright Totty, alright..."

He returned to playing, his fingers flying over the keys though he didn't know he was doing it, over even what he was playing, all he knew was that for just another moment, his girl was safe. In the man's intoxicated state he wouldn't notice the change between Roxanne and Maxine, though they were about as different as two people can possibly be, for one Maxine was old enough to be her mother, and for another Roxanne was infinitely prettier than rough, world weary Maxine… but they were equipped with essentially the same "tools of the trade" so how soft her skin was to the touch mattered little in the end.

Roxanne slipped onto the bench beside him, "don't play that song." She hissed in his ear.

"What song?"

She rolled her eyes, "the one you're playing…our song."

"You may as well let me finish it…"

"Sure Tot."

"Don't call me that."

"Don't be such a baby and no one would."

"I don't care if the girls call me that, but don't you start."

"The 'girls'? What does that make me then ay?"

"You know what I mean."

"Face it," she threw herself at him dramatically, "I'm a Scarlet."

"Alright Scarlet," he elbowed her away, "go on then, go do your job."

She nodded to Frances, who took over piano, and led Kib down onto the floor, "dance with me."

"Why dance with a ruddy piano player when you could be dancing with one of these fine gentleman?" but whatever he said he wasn't about to pass up a chance to dance with Roxanne.

There were never two, before or since, that could dance the way Kib and Roxanne could, and every single person who worked, or was a regular in The Scarlet Hall, and generally anyplace else in that part of London, knew it all too well.

Robert Sinclair, the very owner of the Scarlet Hall, sat a little forward in his chair, his lip curling with hatred as he watched. Martin Kibben was, very simply, the bane of Sinclair's existence. Here he was, one of the most influential men of the London underworld, powerful, wealthy, (if only because he fed off the rich),and not only surrounded, but the shrine of some of the most beautiful women to be had… his life should have been a dream.. But as long as that boy, that little nothing, was around… it was but a nightmare. So why was Kib allowed to stay? Better yet why was Kib allowed to exist at all when Sinclair could have him snuffed out like a flickering candle flame in the night? He was, on all other points, bad for business… he distracted the girls from paying customers, kept Roxie, one of his best and youngest girls from her work, and more interest was shown in him by the wealthy patrons than any of the real dancers, performers, or call girls in the entire establishment… ah but when that boy danced… He was no longer a distraction, a bother, or a burden… he was pure gold.

"Tell me you love me," Kib whispered in her ear as their bodies came together in the tango.

"I've never loved another," Roxanne dipped, her head just gracing the floor "tell me you'll never leave me."

"I'll never leave you," he tossed her as easily as if she were light as the air itself, "tell me you need me."

"More than the air I breath," she said as he caught her again and they bowed.

He kissed her hand and, amid the explosion of clapping and cheering, "That's what I thought."

Their happiness however was over in a second, for as the noise died away, Sinclair appeared from the shadows, "very nice Kibben, very nice," he took Roxanne's hand, "now boy, if you'll excuse us," he lowered his voice so that only Kib could hear, "I'll teach her what a man can do."

Kib's eyes flamed as he watched them, heading toward the staircase to the private rooms, Sinclair fondling her shamelessly as they went. At last Maxine had to pull him off the floor, settling him down onto a couch between herself and Camilla. But while they flirted and teased, his mind was elsewhere. Sinclair was the one person he couldn't protect her from, in fact he was the reason they were in this mess in the first place, but it didn't matter because here, his word was law.

TBC…

A.N. Ok there's chapter one, I hope it wasn't too confusing… It was a lot of fun to write! During the proofread I noticed that I didn't put any descriptions of Kib or Roxanne in it… lol next chapter I will I promise. Let me know if you liked it! R&R PLEASE!!!!!!!