Bad Blood

Part Seven

A/N Ep 8 up on Inkitt, see my profile for link, xx

Chapter Seven

"I didn't know you played drums."

Riker froze at that voice, it shouldn't be familiar as he'd managed to avoid her the last few weeks. But his body prickled at her dulcet tones.

Placing down the drumsticks, he took a few deep breaths before he turned to the door and saw her there. Nancy.

"I can play most instruments. What are you doing here?"

She looked tiny in the doorway, biting on her nail nervously. She had her sable coloured hair pulled back in a loose ponytail, and seemed to be make-up free, that was obviously why she looked about fifteen. Or maybe it was her attire, leggings and an oversized t-shirt.

"Wanted to talk to you about the material...but you seem to be avoiding me."

He shook his head, "not avoiding, point blank refusing to be in the same room as you."

"Until now."

Riker growled, and her eyes widened. He wanted to see fear, but she was laughing at him, and that drove him even crazier.

"Look, I am not about to get into small talk with you, I've got work to do."

She sauntered into the studio, swaying her hips confidently, and he tried in vain to drag his eyes from her.

"Picture your dream." She threw the name of the song she'd been working on the previous day, and he suddenly didn't want to have this conversation. It was his song, it wasn't a debate.

"I think that if you upped the key for the chorus and let me lead the vocals, well it would work. The lyrics and the pattern of the song...it screams out for my voice."

He scoffed at that, "oh really?"

Rolling her eyes, she dumped her bag on the chair, continuing her walk towards him, brazen and uncaring of his growls.

"You think that this is me pushing myself in to the limelight?" When he didn't answer, she rolled her eyes again, "will you just listen to me? What I'm saying?"

Sitting back down he started back on the drum segue, there was something not quite right with the beat.

When he looked up, she was still stood in the middle of the room, arms crossed, glaring at him.

"Why don't you do us all a favour, and fuck off?"

That made her huff, "I'm going to make you listen to me, because I have something relevant to say, and you might be the most self opinionated man, but this will be to your benefit."

He smashed the drums, the beat lost as he processed all she'd said. Then throwing the sticks across the room, he jumped up, "self opinionated? Is that all you've got?"

Shrugging, she stepped towards him, "I'm not scared of you, you can stand there puffing out your chest and being all arseholey, but it doesn't work."

Arseholey? She had no fucking idea.

"In your world, you may be used to getting your own way, but not here, not now. This is my world. You got that."

"Ego much?" she tossed at him, her lips curling into an infuriating smile.

Clenching his hands into fists, he managed to snarl through gritted teeth, "you need to get out of here."

"Or what? Going to punch me?"

His eyes flared, "no naive barman to use to your advantage today. Do you have any other tactics? Any other ploys to get your own way?"

"It bothered you, didn't it." She stared at him, giving a statement not a question. He was silent and she laughed again, "saying that, the way you look at me, it's like all fake hatred, isn't it?"