Eminem Fan Fiction Shorts - I

Eminem's Chance

Two weeks into working with Laine and I couldn't tell you the last time I'd had so much fun. Studio work can be long and exhausting. When I was younger, the energy of D12 did a lot for making it flow. It had been a while since I'd felt that way and, although Laine didn't really inspire the same feeling, she nevertheless had this way of fueling everyone around her. It was like being around the living, human embodiment of a Monster or Rockstar, even though I noticed the woman herself never drank the stuff.

"Let's call it a night." I said, stepping away from the mic and into the control room.

Per usual, Laine was sitting on the couch, having spent the last few hours listening and making suggestions. The first time she'd done it, I'd balked a little. I'd quickly learned, however, that her thoughts were truly just suggestions. She didn't take offense when I told her no and thus, it made it easier for me to give consideration when she made a comment.

She smiled as I walked in and I'd admit to the warmth that spread in my chest as a result. As the days had passed, I'd found that Laine was not only a fucking goddess, she was smart and funny. Although I kept waiting for the crazy to make its appearance, it never seemed to. Instead, she just got better.

She stood and stretched, flashing a slim stomach and side that had ink that I was dying to see more of. Over the last two weeks, her wardrobe had been mostly professional. A few days, though, she'd shown up in street clothes. Today was one of those days. She was wearing a pair of dark jeans, heeled boots and a well-fitted shirt that hit the top of her jeans. It had taken me more time than I'd care to admit to stop staring when she'd first walked in.

"Great job, Marshall." She said, smiling at me as she collected her things. I looked at my phone, noting that it was late and that none of us had eaten in hours. Taking a gamble, I spoke up.

"You want to catch some food, Laine?" I asked and she turned, surprise in her eyes. She checked her phone and then looked back at me, smiling as she did.

"Sounds good." She said, slipping a light jacket on and walking toward me. I gestured toward the door, catching the look of the sound guy as I walked her out. Poor fucker was jealous. I smirked. He should have done something about it earlier, then. 

As we stepped into the evening air, Laine took a deep breath and looked at me, her eyes twinkling.

"I found a 24 hour place about two miles from here that serves barbecue, if you're interested." She offered and I nodded, pointing out my car.

On our way to the restaurant, I tapped the steering wheel and tried to figure out if I really was going to do what I wanted to. There's an old saying that you don't piss where you eat, and it should apply to Laine, but I was drawn to her. Deciding that I was too old to start worrying about consequences now, I just had at it.

"You seeing someone?" I asked as I pulled into the parking lot. Laine turned to me, frowning slightly as she answered.

"No."

I scowled. In the two weeks since I'd met Laine, she hadn't responded to a single fucking thing with a one-word response. I got out, moving around the car to her side as she stepped out, trying to decide if I should push. I didn't have to, though.

"Sorry, Marshall. That was rude." She sighed, running a hand through her hair. I shrugged and she grabbed my arm to stop me before we walked in to the restaurant.

"Really. It's just-" She cut off for a second and then twisted her lips before continuing. "He broke up with me a couple of weeks ago, the night we met." She explained, looking at her feet before tilting her chin back up to look in my eyes. "Let's just say that the way he ended it wasn't the best." She continued and I nodded, my brows pulled together.

"You love him?" I asked, knowing that it wasn't my fucking business, but wanting the answer all the same. Laine shook her head.

"No. I should have. He was exactly what my Southern parents think I need." She said wryly. "But, I'm apparently too closed off." She said and I couldn't help the snort.

"You're a lot of things, Laine." I said, jogging my head to the door of the restaurant. "But closed off isn't one of them." I continued and Laine slipped her arm into my elbow as we walked, her easy nature shining through again.

"Well, maybe I've just charmed you into thinking that, Marshall." She teased and I chuckled in agreement.

The restaurant was nearly empty at this time of night, which meant we had the pick of the place to sit. After we'd placed our orders, Laine and I got to talking. For hours, we sat in the back booth of that barbecue restaurant, just telling each other stories.

I learned that Laine had gotten into the business partially as a fluke. She used to sing - badly, by her description - and had thought to make it big. In the process of working at a studio on her own songs, she'd heard some of Warren G's shit. She'd been so excited by it that she'd scrapped her plans to put out her own stuff and had asked to get in on producing him. It was how she'd met Dre. As the years progressed, she found that she had a penchant for hip hop and rap, and so she'd made a career out of producing it.

"My poor parents have never forgiven me for not becoming the next Tanya Tucker." She said with a grin and I smiled, even though I had no fucking clue who that was. I thought for a moment, piecing some bits of conversations and things together and then picked up her hand, running a finger over the callouses.

"You still play the guitar, though?" I asked and Laine blushed.

"Yeah. I can't sing for shit, but I still write the music." She said, leaving her hand in mine. I nodded and looked into her eyes, caught up by the softness in them. Without any more thought about it, I pulled her to me and kissed her. 

Laine's lips parted slightly, responding to me with a slow, easy movement that had me hotter than a fucking fire. When I'd first heard her voice, I'd thought of molasses. Her kiss was the same: sweet and dark and sensuous. I was bewitched by the taste of the tea on her lips, the feel of her fingers on my neck. She nibbled at my lips and I groaned into her mouth, the tug from her teeth causing a tumult of emotion that was too fast and too much to be able to pin into a single one. When I pulled back, I licked my lips and looked into her eyes, finding them darker. 

"We probably shouldn't do that." She whispered and I nodded as I leaned down to take her lips again.

"Probably not."