Charlie woke up with a start, sucking in a small breath as her eyes flew open. She was laying on her stomach, in a huge room she didn't recognize, and she was completely naked. 

Closing her eyes with a sigh, she muttered, "At least I don't have a hangover this time."

After another lazy moment, she finally sat up, groaning along with her muscles. After rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she peered over the edge of the bed to find clothes still strewn across the floor.

With a sigh, she flopped backwards onto the bed. She had the feeling that she had just set a terrible precedent with Remi—signing that contract then letting him do everything he'd done last night. Everything she'd done.

It didn't bode well for future interactions. 

Sunlight was beginning to creep through the windows on the wall behind her with some conviction, and she finally got out of the bed. Frowning, she found her underwear, then chewed at the inside of her cheek.

Her dress she remembered was in the hall, and she had no intention of walking out of this room in nothing but her underwear. Plus, the idea of fighting with the zipper was exhausting.

With a shrug, she snatched his ruined shirt up from the floor and shrugged it on, wrapping it around her torso. The tail came down to the middle of her thighs, maybe a little higher. Quickly she did up the buttons that had survived, then cracked open the door, peering out into the hall.

It would have to do for now.

Everything was dead silent. She snatched up her dress from where it had been left at the top of the stairs, then made her way down to the main floor. She ran her fingers through her hair a few times in an attempt to tame it, trying to find her way back to the kitchen in this ridiculously large house. 

"Hello."

The soft voice made her jump, and she whirled around to find a slim woman with dark hair and hazel eyes watching her keenly. Charlie relaxed when she recognized her from last night. She was the one Remi had talked to after sending her into the house ahead of him.

She regarded the woman with blatant curiosity. The woman smiled wryly, and said, "I'm Moira. I work for Remi."

"Charlie," she answered, her hand going up to her throat and her cheeks burning when her voice came out as a croak. 

Moira just grinned knowingly, then waved for Charlie to follow her. "That's something easily remedied, dear."

Still blushing furiously, she followed the other woman through a living room she vaguely recognized and into the kitchen. Moira pointed toward the island, and Charlie sat gingerly in one of the chairs as the other woman riffled through the refrigerator. 

She came back with a glass of orange juice, which Charlie accepted gratefully. After taking a sip that stung, then another that soothed her throat, she peered at the woman's watch and sighed in relief. She still had four hours before she needed to be at her first class. 

Moira was still watching her, making Charlie shift uncomfortably in her seat. She quietly drank more of the juice, then asked, "Where's Remi?"

"Around," Moira said cryptically. "I'm supposed to take you anywhere you need to go today."

This made Charlie blink in surprise. Then she shook her head. "That's very kind of you, but I—"

"Pardon me for being so blunt, love, but yes you do. Unless you'd like half of downtown New Orleans knowing you gave the devil a ride last night." She chuckled to herself, then added, "Not that they'd know who you were with, but still."

Her flush deepened, but she just frowned, her attention caught by something Moira had said. Slowly, she asked, "Is that some quaint Irish way of saying I slept with him?"

At Moira's blank look, she clarified, "Saying I gave the devil a ride?"

Now the other woman burst out laughing, startling Charlie. Moira leaned against the counter of the island, covering her mouth to stifle the sound a bit. After a few more moments of unsuccessfully controlled laughter, she looked up at Charlie. "Didn't he tell you?" she asked, wiping at her eyes.

"Tell me what?" Charlie demanded, irritation growing steadily. 

Moira abruptly stopped laughing, chewing thoughtfully at her lower lip for a second. Then, slowly, she said, "If you haven't asked him, or he hasn't told you proper-like, then it's not my place to say."

This made Charlie scowl, but before she could say something cutting, Moira looked at her watch. "We should probably be going. I'll assume that you'll be wanting something different to wear?"

Charlie glanced down at the wrinkled white shirt that still smelled like him and nodded vigorously. "Definitely."

Pursing her lips, Moira said, "I can take ya to wherever your clothes are." She frowned to herself, then nodded firmly. "That'll be for the best, I believe. Then we can just load up your belongings, which'll make movin' in a lot easier."

Charlie choked on the last bit of her orange juice. Coughing, eyes watering, she glared at Moira. "I will be doing no such thing!"

At Moira's raised eyebrow, she stood up and said, "Is that what he thought I wanted? Jesus Christ!" She ran a hand through her hair, then crossed her arms. "I can find my own place to live. I'm not a stray for him to take in and play house with!"

"That's thinking rather highly of ourselves, now isn't it," Moira said, her voice sharp. Charlie blinked in surprise, and the other woman softened a bit. Sighing, she said, "Remi has a place all set up. He seems to have taken a bit of a shine to ya, and I can understand why, but he's not exactly the white picket fence type. You'd do well to remember that."

Unsure of what to say, she nodded. "Does he... do things like this often?" she asked.

"Do what?" Moira asked, swiping the empty glass off the counter and placing it in the sink of another island Charlie hadn't seen the other night.

She bit at the inside of her cheek, then followed Moira through the house to the back of the house. Moira opened the door and Charlie stepped out onto the cool concrete of a garage, the scents of gasoline, rubber and motor oil prickling at her nose.

Her jaw dropped open at the millions of dollars sitting sedately in front of her. She didn't know the names of any of these cars, but they all looked ridiculous and expensive. 

Moira shook her head. "I wouldn't touch his beasts for all the love in the world. We'll be taking my truck."

Charlie walked quickly down the middle of the garage, afraid that if she lingered one of these monstrous machines would wake up and eat her whole. She let out a sigh of relief when Moira led her out another door, across a short stretch of dew heavy grass, then through a small gate set into the high wall around the back of the house.

There on the street corner was a fairly new, nicely cared for Ford with shiny red paint, and a German shepherd in the back.

The dog's ears pricked as soon as it heard Moira's footsteps, and Charlie could have sworn it smiled at the Irishwoman. Moira hustled Charlie across the pavement, which was already hot under her bare feet, and up into the cab of the truck.

Charlie watched in the mirror as she fished something, most likely a treat, out of her pocket and gave it to the dog, which delicately took it from her fingers. Moira ruffled its ears, then came around and got into the driver's seat.

At Charlie's questioning look, she said, "That's Belle. You met her brothers, Butch and Sundance, the other night."

Stifling a laugh at the names, she said, "Your girls are princesses and your boys are outlaws?"

Moira pulled out into the street and shook her head, smiling. "Belle was named after Belle Starr. An exceptionally famous woman from the Wild West. Many false stories surround her, but she lives on as the Queen of Bandits."

The other woman laughed at some private joke. Glancing at Charlie, she confessed, "I have rather a soft spot for your Wild West. Cowboys and Indians. Outlaws and lawmen. I've always loved the stories. All my dogs are named after someone famous."

Charlie smiled, amused and caught off guard by this. She herself had never much cared for the Old West, or anything of history, really. She'd always preferred scientific pursuits.

"But aren't you from Ireland?" she asked.

Moira's expression suddenly soured. "I was."

Charlie glanced in the rearview mirror to find Belle sitting at the side of the bed, her pink tongue hanging out of her mouth, her nose twitching crazily as she tried to keep up with all the scents flowing over her. Obviously Moira's past was not a place Charlie was allowed to tread in.

So she changed the subject. "I'm going to give Ms. Brandi a heart attack. Hopefully we can get there before she gets back from her morning errands." Her thoughts took a darker turn, but she didn't voice any of them.

They rode in silence for the thirty minutes it took after that to get to her old apartment building. Then she covered her face with her hands, hissing a string of swear words. When she glanced up, Moira was giving her an odd look. Slumping back in her seat, she explained, "I don't have a key to get in anymore."

"Oh," Moira said on a breath of laughter. Getting out of the car, she said, "Won't be a problem, love. Just tell me where they are, and I can bring something back for ya."

"But how..." She trailed off with a sigh as Moira just gave her a stern look. Pursing her lips, she told Moira where the storage room was and where her boxes were, asking for a simple t-shirt and a pair of shorts.

By seven in the morning, New Orleans was already leaning towards sweltering during the beginning of August.

She watched Moira walk quickly up to the front door, then sat up straight as the woman paused at the door for a second. Her lips parted when the door swung open, and she turned to wave at Charlie before slipping inside.

Charlie blinked, then startled when a ringing sounded through the cab of the truck. She looked around the cab, attention finally caught by the display on the dashboard. She frowned when, rather than a name, a small dragon emoji popped up below the words "incoming call".

It rang three times as Charlie craned her neck, searching for Moira. But when no movement stirred from the building, she leaned over, wondering if she should just take a message. The display went dark, making her blink.

Then it lit up again, that same dragon popping up on the screen. Still no sign of Moira.

Charlie let the call drop for a second time. She leaned back in the seat, wondering how long it could possibly take to dig through two boxes of clothes. She jumped again when the display lit up once more, followed by another ring.

The dragon, green and medieval.

Really hoping this wasn't a boyfriend or something equally awkward, Charlie finally hit accept. To her surprise, Remi's voice came through. "Jesus, Moira. Pick up the first time, otherwise I'll be forced to assume that you're dead in a ditch somewhere and I'll need to find someone to take the place of your talented ass."

"Um..." Charlie started.

Sounding a little irritated, he said, "Look, I know I told you to look after Charlie today and you were all pissed, but I can take care of myself. Veronica won't cause any problems. She and the Casteglionis can't afford to miss out on New Orleans, so she won't be that stupid." He sighed. "That being said... maybe drop Charlie off at her new place and come meet me."

"About that," Charlie said dryly, crossing her arms. "Who asked you to set me up with a place to begin with?"

There was a long silence on the line. Then Remi blew out a short breath, and said, "Is Moira there?"

"No. She's grabbing me some clothes from my old place. Currently I'm wearing your shirt."

"Anything else?" he asked, and she snorted. He let out another of those supremely irritated sighs. "Look, I'll be otherwise occupied today. Moira can get you settled and I'll come around later tonight to make sure everything's square."

"No," Charlie said, thinking it was probably best to not let him think he could come and go as he pleased. "I'll be fine. But I still want to come back around to who told you I needed you to find me a place."

"Well, to begin," he said dryly. "It's actually my place. Lodging is a work benefit, as far as you're concerned, and it's only ten minutes from LSU's campus in New Orleans. That's the one you'll be going to, right?"

Charlie gaped at the little green dragon on the screen in front of her. She could practically see the smug smile he was wearing. 

But before she could say anything, he said, "I told you. You sign the paper, you take care of my guys and I take care of you. Housing is part of that. Simple. Now, if you wouldn't mind telling Moira to give me a call when she's back, that would be nice."

"I—"

"I have to go, Charlie. I'll see you tonight."

"No you—" she tried, but he had already hung up. Charlie let out a small growl of indignation, then jumped when Moira's door opened. A bundle of cloth was suddenly in her face, and Moira laughed as she shook the clothes off her head and into her lap.

She sighed in relief when she also found a regular bra and a new pair of underwear. She shot Moira a grateful look, then climbed into the backseat as Moira started the truck. Her fingers went to the buttons on the shirt she had stolen, but then Moira asked, "What are you doing?"

"I'm... changing into the clothes you went to all that trouble to get me?" Charlie said, undoing the buttons quickly, eager to get into something normal, and didn't so loudly scream what she had been up to last night.

Moira chuckled, the sound throaty and... sexy? Charlie raised her eyes to meet Moira's, who was clearly looking at her, dressed just in her undergarments and Remi's now unbuttoned shirt. Moira winked at her in the mirror. "While I'd appreciate the show, love, I don't think Remi would be too terribly pleased. And I'd feel guilty not givin' ya any warnin'."

Charlie blinked, surprise making her mind blank, then covered her mouth to stop her small laugh. Quickly she buttoned the shirt back up and slid into the front seat once more. Shaking her head with another grin, she said, "Thanks for keepin' me from making a fool of myself. I guess that's what I get for going around assuming."

"Aye, you would have made a proper ass out of the both of us," Moira said with a laugh of her own. She gave Charlie a speculative glance, then shook her head. "Nah."

Charlie raised an eyebrow, and Moira just waved a hand. Jokingly, she said, "If you'd like to volunteer that show while I'm not drivin', I wouldn't be for sayin' no."

Caught off guard, Charlie could only blink at her for a second, her lips parting even though she was uncertain of how to respond. Then Moira threw another wink at her and said, "Don't worry, love, judging off all the fun it sounded like you had last night, I know a hopeless case when I see one. I'm only teasin'."

Now she blushed, her cheeks burning as she realized that obviously she and Remi were not the only two in that great, big, empty house the other night. Clearing her throat, she cast a sideways look at the other woman. "Do you live with him?"

Moira gave her a sideways look of her own. "I try to stay wherever Remi is," she said carefully.

Charlie glanced out the window, fingers knotting nervously into the clothes in her lap. She didn't say anything more until they turned onto Saint Ann Street.

"Oh you've got to be kidding me!" she burst out, making Moira startle. Charlie pressed her lips together into a furious line. He couldn't be freaking serious.

Her heart eased slightly when they pulled up to a cute, little cream colored house with blue shutters and red doors, but her foul mood came screaming back when Moira said, "It's a single unit now. Remi converted it a long time ago. It's completely furnished, you'll just need to pick out some odds and ends."

Charlie sighed deeply.

"Why don't we go take a peek inside. See if it's to your liking." Moira opened her door, ruffling Belle's ears after stepping down onto the pavement.

"And if it's not?" Charlie asked waspishly after she'd joined her outside. 

They walked quickly up to the front door on the left-hand side, and Moira unlocked the door, standing to the side so that Charlie could step inside and away from prying eyes.

Moira gave her a knowing look as she gaped at the gorgeous hardwood floors, brick fireplace and cozy but obviously expensive furnishings. She flopped onto the couch in the front room and turned on a flat-screen TV. Nodding toward the white-painted stairs, she said, "Bedrooms are upstairs. Get dressed and then you can argue and throw a fit all you want."

Charlie resisted the urge to stick out her tongue and stomped up the stairs. She found the nearest bedroom, also fully furnished, and quickly changed into the new clothes.

In a huff she went back downstairs to find Moira watching what appeared to be business news. She stalked over to where her boxes had been placed near the door and scrounged through them until she found a hairbrush and ponytail holder.

She put up her hair, then said, "Remi called while you were getting my stuff."

Moira sat up like a dog coming on point. Charlie crossed her arms and continued, "He said something about a woman named Veronica, and that he'd like you to call him. So you should probably go do that. I'll be fine here."

"It wouldn't kill you to show a little gratitude, love," Moira said, her tone sharp as she hurried to the front door. "This place cost him a pretty penny and he's all but giving it to you."

"I never asked him to do that!" Charlie protested.

"Ya didn't have to," Moira returned, opening the door. "Now don't be goin' anywhere but school. Remi will come by later tonight, and I suggest you maybe ask him a few things before you jump back in bed with him."

Another flush burned up her neck and across her cheeks, but before she could snap anything back, Moira was gone, the engine to her truck jumping to life.

Charlie scowled at the closed door, then looked around, frowning. Her shoulders slumped a little and reluctant awe was starting to seep through her anger. 

She looked around, knowing she'd never be able to afford this place herself, which made bitterness swirl up. Moira's words rang in her head, and she vowed to get some proper answers out of Remi before she let him touch her again.

Then she shook her head morbidly as she realized that thought meant she already had plans to let him touch her.

The first thing, though, she decided looking around, would be to get rid of the mint green walls.

Fun Fact: Again, actual real estate in New Orleans, this time in the French Quarter because, hey, why not. And it actually is about 10 minutes away from LSU's medical campus, not to mention about 15 minutes from where Remi lives. This one comes in at a cool $1.2 mil.