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He Prefers White Lilies over Roses	By : Kuronohime Category: 1 through F > Dexter Views: 7278 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Done for purely non monetary purposes. I do not own Dexter or the franchise. No copyright infringement is intended. All characters © Showtime network

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Maybe it was something work-related? Maybe the blood slides were part of a classified work assignment and he wasn’t permitted to talk about it? Well, he was a blood analyst, after all. And it would make sense. Some kind of sense. And actually it was the only viable theory she had. All her other assumptions involved either the Soviet Union or aliens.
“More lemonade, my dear?”
Mrs. Saari was a nice, cup-cake smelling widow in her early 70’s. She was holding a can of home-made cloudberry lemonade in her wrinkly old lady hands. It tasted hideous.
“Thank you, Mrs. Saari!” Astor smiled and held out her glass for a refill.
The neighbours had gathered for the nice and normal BBQ party of Dexter’s. The weather was nice, albeit expectedly very hot.
Over across the yard, Dexter looked at Astor. She could swear she saw a flash of gloat in his eyes. But it was gone so soon, she doubted that it was just her imagination. But when she looked at him, she in turn couldn’t help but to feel vaguely amused.
Dexter was dressed in a cheesy hill-billy style apron that said “Baby, I’m on fire!” and it had a cartoon picture of a grinning stake in flames. His ludicrous get-up was perfected by his high, pristine white, chef hat.
‘We are stuck playing our parts in this charade for bystanders.’
Dexter was brilliant at his role as the host in the BBQ gathering. He had honed his skills for all his life. To most people he passed as sincere with his well-practised smiles and accurately timed jokes. To her, it all felt mechanical, without heart or true enjoyment. He was a lonely observer and seldomly initiated any conversations. Unless he had something to gain from conversing. A fact that no-one seemed to take any note of. Being a father had changed his demeanour very little.
After a while, Astor got bored of observing Dexter. She was bored of all the people there and especially bored by the vile tang of the cloudberries. She discreetly spilled her drink on the ground and excused herself.
The young woman found her way back to the kitchen and she opened the refrigerator. Not searching anything in particular, but just basking in the cool glow. The languid breaths of air clang on the pearls of sweat that glistened on her skin. What a girl wouldn’t give for a week’s trip to Alaska.
“While you are refrigerating yourself, could you pass the grill sauce? It’s on the door.”
A breath hitched in Astor’s throat. Goddamn that man puts ninjas to shame!
Not bothering to look at the man standing behind the refrigerator door, Astor’s eyes quickly scanned trough a row of various bottles until she spotted a reddish orange one. She snatched the bottle and tossed it on the kitchen table behind her. She closed her eyes and faced the chilling pits of the fridge, not wanting to be disturbed more.
A pestering feel of his presence wouldn’t leave her alone.

“Was there anything else? Mayonnaise perhaps?” She asked dryly.
The fridge door was swung close and Astor hesitantly took a step back.

“I would greatly appreciate if you just played along. These people have been waiting to meet you.” Dexter moved to stand before the fridge. Astor was caught between Dexter and the kitchen table.

“One of our neighbours is Detective Miller. As you recall me introducing you to him half an hour ago.” He paused to contemplate his next words carefully. “He is very important guest to us, a friend of mine,” Dexter leaned in, “one to make a good impression on, you understand?”

Astor felt his breath on her face and neck. It was hot and humid like the Miami air but instead it made her chill. He was trying to put her in her place.

But the young woman didn’t feel like being pushed. Not when she had one leg-up over him.

“I see... The good Detective probably doesn’t know about your little collection of... samples.” The last word rolled languidly off her tongue. Dexter’s eyes widened.

“Don’t fret, I get it. Mr. Detective needs to be entertained.” Her fingers drew circles on the surface of the kitchen table she was leaning against.

“As the keepers of the law, I think there might be couple topics of joint interest between us.”

Her last words were like a malicious promise and she brushed her shoulder against Dexter’s as she tried to make her leave. Dexter grabbed her shoulder and pushed her against the fridge, nimbly swapping their positions. Stripped of all the fake smiles and pleasantness’, his face was cold and barren. “Astor!” His harsh tone scolded her.

He held her in place by both hands. He was so close now that Astor could taste his eau de toilette in her mouth.

The woman pushed her hands hard against his chest, trying to escape his firm grip. “Don’t treat me like a child, you fucking freak!” She breathed heavily through her teeth making the words sound like a hiss.
The space between them felt electrified by a sinister tension. The little hair on Astor’s body stood out. She still had her palms resting on his pecs. A rush of adrenaline made her heart beat faster, her pupils grow wider and her breath come out as a laborious quiver. She only hoped that Dexter wouldn’t notice that there were goose bumps on her arms. She didn’t want him to know that he had any effect on her. What Astor didn’t notice was that Dexter’s eyes had turner darker, too.
“I don’t like you and I know that you’re not fond of me either. Just stop with all this fake crap.” She sharply said.
Dexter didn’t reply. He did not enjoy his current position. At all. Astor was attempting to play with something well beyond her understanding. Her fickle temper didn’t suite his plans and he knew that this woman child would snap him if he didn’t handle the situation now. He could not afford loose ends regarding his secrets.

He grabbed a hold of her wrist. It was tiny, Dexter couldn’t help noticing.

“If you won’t comply with my rules, you are free to leave this house.”
He squeezed her wrist harder. He wanted her to be uncomfortable, feel a little pain. Just a little. It had been a long time since his last slide.
“Umm, excuse me? The stakes are starting to look pretty well done on the grill.” A voice interrupted their battle of wills. A man in his late 30’s had appeared in the kitchen doorway.

Dexter immediately released Astor’s wrist. He put that stupid smile on his face with a reflex and was about to reply to the man at the door when he heard Astor whisper in his ear.

“I’ll play.”

Astor pushed Dexter aside and walked up to the kitchen counter. She casually grabbed a bowl of salad that sat there so that it’d look like she had meant to do so all along. The woman looked at the intruder and gave him a brilliant fake smile of her own.

“Where are my manners, I’m afraid I distracted our host for too long.” She cutely pursed her lips, “Do forgive me, Detective Miller”

“Please, just call me Dave.” He kindly returned her smile.

Astor grabbed his arm and began leading him out the kitchen.

“Dave. May I ask how you enjoy your stakes? I bet you’re a bloody kind a guy.” At that particular word she glanced over her shoulder at Dexter who was forced to stand behind with a smile on that shallow mask of his.

A/N: I’m such a deuche, I know! All my stories are on hiatus and I haven’t replied to any of my wonderful reviews! I’m sorry, I don’t deserve you guys! :’< But I promise that once I get my graduation papers in my hands this spring, the updates will skyrocket in numbers!

About couple things in this chapter. I couldn’t help but to throw in some of my Finnish roots. I’ve never done that before with any of my other fics. Saari is a typical Finnish surname and it means “Island”. Cloudberry is a popular Finnish berry and it tastes hideous! It’s really, really sour. They, as well as cranberries, are common in Lapland and in the northern areas in general - no so much down here where I live. But here in the south raspberries, blueberries and wild strawberries grow on everyone’s backyards.

And about your questions. Yeeees, this is intended to be a dark romance. I just don’t want to rush into things. First Astor and Dexter should learn to see themselves as something other than a child and an adult. Astor should learn that Dexter is more than just emotionally crippled freak and Dexter needs to really start trusting her and see that she’s a woman. They both have pretty high walls of defence that need to come down in order for them to discover each other.

But as always, my offer stands. Whoever wants to adopt this story, please PM me and it shall be yours!
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He Prefers White Lilies over Roses