#no sorry i don’t agree sex work and brick laying have the same physical and emotional toll oddly enough

[number1cumplaner]

“coercive sex work isn’t inherently more harmful than any other job because all labor is coercive under capitalism” please die immediately

[tatesweaterweather]

“You know that somewhere deep down, you still love me” sex with Kai - fem!reader <3

(⚠️ warnings!: talk of cheating, slight abuse, stalking, cussing & smut)

It had been two years since you seen Kai.

Two years since you told him you no longer wanted to be with him. He didn’t take it well.

For six months straight you flinched at every slight noise. You found yourself constantly looking over your shoulder in fear you would find him behind you, waiting to wrap his fingers around your vocal cords until you could no longer form a proper sentence. You knew what Kai was capable of but you just couldn’t stand to be around him anymore.

You waited until what you thought was the right time and told it to him straight. He just looked at you with anger burning behind his eyes, a look you’ve seen but never received.

After catching the terrifying look upon his face, you stood up from the couch in fear while Kai remained silent. When you had tried to leave, he grabbed your wrist in an attempt to make you stay. When that didn’t work and you pulled away, he began to angrily scream at you with everything he had. You never felt so fearful in your life.

You eventually made it out though, physically and emotionally. Slowly but surely, you had began to see less and less of Kai. You no longer caught his henchmen lingering. Those songs that always reminded you of him no longer reminded you of him.

About four months ago you started dating your current boyfriend, Ethan. You had met him in a bar and instantly, you two became friends. From there, you began taking your relationship to the next level and so on. Things were finally looking okay for you.

This evening, you and Ethan had decided that you were going to stay in instead of going out for your date. You ordered food, set up a movie, and switched into your comfy clothes when you had seen your phone begin to light up. Instinctively, you reached for it. When you picked it up, you immediately felt as if your heart was in your throat.

It was Kai.

You stared down at your phone in confusion. You thought you had blocked his number ages ago, so how could he be calling? You quickly apologized to your boyfriend before leaving the room to answer.

“Hello?” You hesitantly questioned.

“Hey, little lamb.” Kai spoke from the other side of the phone. You instantly got butterflies from the old nickname but quickly pushed them down.

“You shouldn’t be calling.” Your voice went quiet as you stared down at your feet.

“I’m calling about Winter.” He paused. “Something happened.”

“What?” The feeling of worry easily making your voice crack. “What do you mean something happened?”

“It’s just-” He started but cut himself off. “There was an accident. She’s here at home now. I figured you may have wanted to know that considering you two used to be friends.”

“Oh, shit.” You frantically looked around. “Okay, I’m on my way. Is it bad? Like, should I take something for her?”

“No, she doesn’t need anything right now. Just get here as quickly as you can.” He replied with shortly before hanging up.

Shakily, you placed your phone down and began getting dressed. You anxiously fished through your closet for the closest pair of shoes, not realizing your boyfriend was now behind you.

“Jesus, fuck. You scared me, Ethan.” You clutched your chest.

“Something wrong, babe?” He looked at you, concern in his eyes.

“It’s my friend, Winter. They said she was in an accident. I’m heading over there now.” You explained as you grabbed your purse, slinging it over your shoulder.

“Oh, shit. That’s not good. Did you want me to come with?” Your boyfriend offered.

“No, I couldn’t ask you to do that. Plus, it’s most likely going to be chaotic and I don’t want to put you through that.” You kissed his lips. “I’ll call you later, okay?”

Ethan nodded and you smiled softly before swiftly walking down the stairs to your car. After you had left Kai, you decided to move about a half hour west of your old place. You shakily sighed as you made your way to your ex boyfriend’s house.

About a half hour later, you pulled up in front of the house. You swallowed in anxiousness and made your way to the front door. You knocked a few times before Kai answered.

“Hi.” He smiled down at you.

“Hey, Kai.” You smiled back. “So, where’s Winter?”

“Oh, I just went to help her lay down. It was going to be a surprise for you to be here but because I didn’t want to ruin it, I didn’t tell her and I just let her sleep.” He stepped to the side. “You can come in, if you want. She’ll probably want to get up again soon.”

Hesitantly, you nodded and walked inside. The memories of the house instantly hit you like a pile of bricks.

“Wow.” You traced the walls with your fingers. “It’s been so long.”

“Yeah..” Kai agreed. “So, did you want to wait for her in the basement? We can sit around down there, like old times.”

You nodded softly in agreement, not wanting to upset Kai in any way. He motioned for you to go first as he held the door open. You slowly began walking down the stairs, shakily placing your hands on the wall which each step for support. When you got to the bottom of the stairs you stood awkwardly, not knowing what to do.

“It’s okay, Y/N.” Kai reassured you. “I’m not gonna hurt you. You don’t have to be so jumpy.”

“Sorry..” You trailed off as you sat down on the sofa. Kai sat down on the chair across from you and sent you a small smile.

“So, tell me what’s new.” He looked at you expectedly.

“Not much, I’m the same as always.” You began fidgeting with your phone in anxiousness, your lock screen immediately lighting up. You looked down to see you and Ethan sharing a kiss. “Well, there is something new actually. I have a new boyfriend.”

Kai’s unreadable expression remained the same. “Oh? That’s great, little lamb. Why don’t you tell me a little about him.”

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat from the now foreign nickname. “Uh, we started dating a few months ago. His name is Ethan.”

“Ethan.” Kai nodded. “I’m happy for you, angel.”

“Yeah..” You smiled, not knowing what to say. “So, anything new with you, Kai?”

“No.” Kai shook his head. “Well.. I do have a little something to confess.”

You looked at him expectedly, waiting for him to go on.

“I wasn’t exactly honest with you earlier, little lamb.” He leaned forward in his seat.

“What?” You weren’t sure if you had heard him right.

“Well, I called you over here because Winter had an accident.” He stood up. “Truth be told, Winter is just fine.”

You sent him a confused expression to which he responded with by smiling.

“Yeah, she’s out with a friend right now.” He began walking over to you, sitting on the coffee table just in front of your legs. “I just needed to get you over here but I knew I would have to tell you a little white lie in order for that to happen.”

You were at a loss for words. What the fuck?

“Did you think I wouldn’t find you?” He asked. “Did you seriously think I would just let you leave me for that premature dickwad?”

“Don’t call him that.” Your voice weakened as he continued to stare you down. “I knew it was a mistake coming here. You’re fucked up, Kai.”

You attempted to stand up but Kai instantly pulled you back down.

“Are you happy with him?” He questioned.

“What?” You stared at him in confusion.

“Are you happy with him?” Kai repeated.

“Yes, I’m very happy with him.” You defended your relationship. Kai leaned in and your heartbeat immediately picked up.

“How’s the sex?” He taunted. “How often do you cum when you’re with him?”

You look down to avoid Kai’s stares. You kept quiet as he waited for an answer.

“Well..?” He waited. “Does he please you how you want to be pleased?”

“Yes..” You nodded.

“Why did it take you so long to answer me, little lamb? Are you lying?” He spoke with a dominant tone in his voice.

“No.” The submissive side of you instantly taking over.

“Are you sure?” He leaned in, his breath dangerously close to your ear. “Because if you’re lying, daddy will know.”

Your breath hitched as Kai began running his fingers up and down your thighs.

“You know that somewhere deep down, you still love me.” Kai’s lips touched your earlobe. Your eyes closed as his fingers began getting higher and higher up your thighs.

“Kai, we can’t. It’s not right.” You gently shoved him away. “It’s not right for either of us to be doing this right now.”

“I don’t know, baby.” Kai leaned back in, slipping his hand under your pants and into your panties. His fingers swirled around your entrance, not quite making their way in. You moaned softly and he pulled them out of your underwear. “You seem pretty into it, to me.”

The thoughts in your head were running so fast you didn’t even notice yourself slipping into his touch.

“Go on, angel. Let loose.” He whispered into your ear. “Why don’t you let daddy take care of you, hm?”

“Okay..” You hesitantly gave in to the lust running through your veins.

Kai pulled away for a split second to lift you up from your sitting position, laying you down on your back with your legs dangling off the arm of the couch. He looked down at you with lust before removing your pants along with your panties.

“Fuck..” He cursed as he took in the sight of your glistening pussy. He dropped down to his knees before pulling your legs closer to his face. He licked a stripe up your slit and you couldn’t help but let out a loud moan.

“That’s right, baby. Let daddy know how good he makes you feel.” He rubbed your clit softly with his thumb, flicking his tongue inside you simultaneously. Your eyes rolled back in pleasure and your hands went flying to Kai’s hair, gripping it slightly.

“Oh..” You whimpered as Kai removed his tongue, replacing it with his fingers. His fingers moved smoothly in and out of you, your greedy cunt coating them with every movement. “Kai.. please.”

“I’m sorry, what? I’m not entirely sure I understand.” Kai taunted. “I think you’re going to need to repeat yourself for me, princess.”

“Please, daddy.” You begged. “Please, I need you.”

“Alright, angel.” Kai stood up and immediately flipped you around so that your ass was in the air. “But only because you asked me so nicely.”

With your thoughts running loose, the only noise you could focus on was the sound of Kai’s zipper and the slapping of his cock against your pussy. You let out a soft moan as he pulled you in closer. He pushed in and instantly, a groan was pulled from his lips.

“Fuck.” He cursed as he found a fast, even pace. “Always so fucking wet for me.”

He reached down to rub your clit harshly with his fingers and you whimpered as you felt your orgasm begin to approach.

“Daddy..” You sobbed as you were overcome with pleasure. “I need to cum.”

“Go on, baby.” He continued his harsh movements against your clit. “Cum for me.”

You moaned out loudly as your legs began to shake violently under him, causing him to groan. He fucked you through your orgasm and you couldn’t help but let out a few tears from the overstimulation. He continued with his fast pace for a few more moments before you noticed his hips beginning to falter.

He groaned and cursed simultaneously as he came inside of you, causing you to gasp at the feeling. He took a few minutes to breathe before gently pulling out. He noticed you still slumped over in exhaustion and delicately picked you up, sitting you back down on the couch again. You sent him a small smile in return.

Realizing what you had just done, your breath picked up and you immediately began to panic. You looked down at your phone to see 3 missed texts from Ethan.

“Shit.”

(a/n: this fic was so fucked i’m sorry LOL! i literally wrote it so toxic. but i mean, isn’t that all kai is? toxic? idk. let me know what you think. should i add another part to this? more angst maybe?)

[syntax6]

Date Night

(I have these bits of Hunter fic that currently live nowhere but my computer, so I am giving them a public airing.)

From her spot in the parking lot, McCall eyed the squat, brick, nearly windowless building and thought with some relief that it very much did not look like the kind of place that one went for a date. Granted, when Hunter told her to bring her bowling ball and meet him at the alley, it hadn’t sounded like a date then, either, but it was Friday night, they were a couple of unattached, opposite-sex adults, and the two of them were deliberately spending off-duty time together. For like the eighth Friday night in a row. With some Saturday nights thrown in for good measure.

Back in college, she’d had some girlfriends who claimed to have accidental sex on occasion. McCall was never sure quite how the accident was supposed to have occurred. Sorry, I tripped and didn’t see your penis there…apologies! But now McCall had, if not an understanding, an appreciation of how relationships could take an unexpected twist, almost without you noticing at all.

At first, it was very clearly not dating or anything remotely like it. She’d had a quarter ounce of metal dug out of her spine a few months ago, a tiny fraction of alloy with the power to change human history, even if she was the only human involved. They’d offered the bullet back to her once it was no longer evidence, and although she had held hundreds, thousands, in her hands, this one had felt impossibly light. She’d felt light, too, at times transparent like the ghost she might have been, tethered to the earthly world only by frustration and pain as she fought to regain control of her body and her life. But at other times, it was a different kind of light, a happy giddy kind as she realized she was still around to enjoy chocolate fudge ice cream, long bubble baths, and beating the snot out of Hunter at gin rummy.

It was natural back then that he came around on his off hours; he was working, she was not. They had ordered takeout and rented old movies, talking and eating and laughing until one or both of them ended up asleep on her sofa—or, if she were feeling particularly achy on that occasion, in her bed. She hadn’t questioned the physical intimacy because all sorts of doctors and therapists had been touching her at that point—she’d initially needed a lot of help—and so if Hunter helped her off with her sweater or rubbed the feeling back into her feet it was just more of the same.

Except then she got better and still they had movie nights. That was okay, right? Friends did that sort of thing. It wasn’t like she was hot to get back into the dating scene. She could only imagine how that would go:

So…what have you been up to lately? Oh, just having major spinal surgery and coming to grips with my mortality—yourself?

She figured eventually there would be a Friday when Hunter would rather chase some scantily clad blonde than sit on the couch with her, and that would be that. But so far, he just kept asking her out, and alarmingly, she just kept right on accepting.

Okay, it wasn’t alarming at first, she reminded herself as she got out of the car. It had only gotten weird last weekend after the pizza and that second bottle of wine at his place. An impromptu game of footsie broke out when he tried to steal her end of the ottoman, one that ended with his legs pinning hers down and her squirming and giggling.

“I knew you were trouble when I first saw you,” he’d said.

“You’re the one who came looking for me,” she’d reminded him as she had continued trying to get away, albeit not trying very hard. It was late and she was full of wine and pizza. “If I’m trouble, you like it.”

“Maybe.” He’d grinned and leaned over, ostensibly to stop her struggling, but it put him deeply in her personal space. “But you liked me back.”

“Actually, I thought you were a pain in the ass.”

“Hmm. What I’m hearing is that you were checking out my ass.”

She’d laughed. “No, that was you, checking me out. Don’t think I didn’t notice.”

“Honey, you were standing on a street corner in hot pants. The entire world noticed.” His voice had dropped to a suggestive murmur, and she’d become acutely aware that he was lying almost on top of her, their legs intertwined and his mouth only inches from hers. Heat had flooded her face. “Besides,” he’d continued, sliding his hand around from her hip to the small of her back, bringing their bodies closer together. “I wasn’t checking you out. I was just trying to figure out where you kept your gun.”

It’s upstairs, in the bedroom. The response had been right there, so easy. She just had to say the words and see what would happen next. But she’d hesitated and the moment broke apart, Hunter rolling off of her and moving to turn up the lights. Show’s over, folks.

At least this Friday their non-date was on neutral, if strange, turf. Lenny Z’s bowling alley was dark and smelled like cigarettes and beer. The decor was tacky and weird--old bowling trophies, 70s movie posters, and what looked like a collection of water pistols mounted on the wall. She found Hunter waiting for her near the shoe rental, dressed in a dark gray T-shirt and the usual jeans that went on forever. He was holding a bowling ball bag and chewing a toothpick—my, the man certainly did like to keep his mouth busy, didn’t he—and he stuck out like a sore thumb as practically the only white guy in the joint.

“Hi,” she said, looking him up and down. “No ‘Slammer’ shirt this evening?”

“It’s at the dry cleaner,” he said as he tossed away the toothpick. “I see you brought your ball with you. How’s it working out?”

She hefted the bag with the ball in it, which he had gifted her with some months ago—after her other serious stay in the hospital. “I don’t know. This will be my first time using it.”

Hunter smirked. “Virgin ball, eh? You want me to oil it down for you?”

“Ew, no. Keep your hands on your own ball, thank you.” Around them, the place vibrated with the loud thunk of balls hitting the alleyway and the smack of pins crashing down. The crowd was heavily male and older, with an especially rowdy group or two over in the corner. One sported red shirts with black trim, and the other wore gold shirts with black lettering. “This is an…interesting spot you picked to get together tonight, Hunter.”

“I didn’t pick it,” he said, and before she could inquire further, a familiar voice called out to them.

“Sergeants! Welcome! Thank you so much for coming out on this fine spring evening.” McCall shot Hunter the ‘what the hell have you gotten us into now’ look as Sporty James approached, arms spread out as wide as his smile.

“Sporty,” she said by way of greeting. “I didn’t realize you were a bowler.”

“I am a man of many talents, McCall. Too numerous to mention.”

“Let’s not mention them, then,” Hunter said, deadpan. “You’re the one who asked for this meeting, Sporty, so get to it: what is it we’re doing here?”

McCall was interested in the answer, but her attention was momentarily drawn to the glint on Sporty’s bowling shoes. “Are those rhinestones?”

“Fashion first, last, and always, Sergeant.”

She noticed then that Sporty seemed to come from the red-shirted tribe, and up close, she could see that the lettering said ‘Black Cats,’ complete with a feline logo. “The Black Cats?” she asked him. “You didn’t up and join a gang on us, did you, Sporty?”

“You wound me,” he said, pretending to pout. “This here is my bowling league. Cats because we are of course hep cats, and black because, well…” He gestured at his face as though it should be obvious. “It’s the finals tonight, us against the Golden Oldies, and we’re going to take those suckers down.”

Hunter rubbed his face with one hand. “And you called us down here because…?”

“Because the Golden Oldies are a bunch of lyin’, cheatin’, no-good sleazy-ass—“

“We get the picture,” McCall said, interrupting him by laying a hand on his arm. “That still doesn’t explain why you called us.”

“They’re cheating. Doctoring the balls mid-game, I suspect, but I haven’t been able to catch them at it. That’s where I was hoping you two fine officers could provide some assistance.”

“We’re homicide detectives,” McCall said, folding her arms.

“Well, if they cheat us out of that trophy and the money, there’s gonna be a homicide, believe me.”

“Great, call us back then,” McCall said, and she moved to leave.

“No, wait, please.” Sporty shifted to stand in front of her, his hands out, palms up in a pleading gesture. “There’s 3Gs at stake here, and if they get it, that would be…theft, right? Grand larceny!”

“No, it would still be piddly ass cheating in a bowling league,” Hunter replied.

“Come on, don’t make me beg, man. You’re already down here, right? Just watch a few frames, see if you can pick up on what they’re doing.”

Hunter glanced at her, his expression a cross between amused and exasperated. “We’re already here,” he agreed. “And your ball has yet to see any action.”

McCall repressed a sigh. “Fine,” she said. “One game.”

They rented some shoes and took the lane next to the tournament groups, edging around the gathering crowd to get to their spot. “You want a beer?” Hunter asked her.

She scratched the back of her head. “I don’t know—are we on duty?”

“It’s Friday night, and I’m wearing shoes that could practically walk around on their own. I’m getting a beer.”

She grinned. “Make it two.”

Hunter brought back two foamy plastic cups, and she withdrew her ball from its case. The weight felt substantial in her hands, its curve as smooth and pink as a baby’s bottom. “Well? Are you ready for another devastating loss?” she asked, giving her ball a light smack for emphasis.

“You won by two points last time,” he replied with a scoff. “That’s hardly devastating.”

“I don’t know. The hour-long pout afterward suggests otherwise,” she replied dryly.

He frowned and waved her down toward the lane. “Beginner’s luck, that’s all. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

She bowled an eight for the first frame, whereas Hunter got a spare. “There’s your two points right there,” he said, looming over her. “Are you devastated yet?”

“Shut up and keep bowling. There’s a lot of game left to play.”

After three frames, Hunter was leading by eight. In the neighboring lanes, the tournament was getting underway. Sporty caught her eye and gave her a meaningful nod toward his opponents in yellow, and she bit back a smile. 

Hunter followed her gaze and shook his head. “He’s really taking this seriously,” he said.

“Hey, don’t forget there’s a trophy hanging in the balance here,” she said. She watched the men from the Golden Oldies idle around waiting their turns, but she didn’t see any suspicious behavior. “This might be the weirdest stakeout I’ve ever been on,” she muttered to Hunter as she leaned down to check the score.

“Hmm, yes. They’re watching us as hard as we’re watching them.”

She glanced over, and sure enough, a couple of guys immediately jerked their heads back around to their game, having been caught staring. “Well, we don’t exactly blend in,” she said. “This is not the typical spot people would pick for their date.”

She left him sitting there and took up her ball again, casting it down the alley in a swift, smooth motion. The pins toppled with a satisfying crack, all ten down in one try. She clasped her hands in glee and turned to Hunter to gloat. He made a disgusted face at her, and she laughed with delight as she retrieved her ball for another go. These days, physical motion only brought her joy.

When she was finished with the frame, she led Hunter by seventeen points. “Not bad,” he admitted grudgingly as she came to watch him total her score. “Also: this isn’t a date.”

“Beg your pardon?”

“Earlier, you said people wouldn’t pick this spot for a date. We’re not on a date.”

She felt her cheeks go warm and hoped he couldn’t see it in the low light. “I know that and you know that—I meant what the rest of them think.”

He raised his eyebrows at her. “You think they believe we’re on a date?”

“Well, what do you think they think?” She put her hands on her hips.

Instead of answering, Hunter got up and took his turn, and in the process, whittled her lead to six. He returned and took a long sip of beer before tallying up the score. “No way they think this is a date,” he said, his eyes on the paper, pencil in his hand. “You’re not selling it.”

Her mouth dropped open. “Me? Why do I have to be the one to sell it?”

He shrugged and looked up at her. “Because you’re the woman.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean? Because I’m the woman?”

“It’s just how it is. Everyone assumes the guy involved is always out to score some action, so his behavior is a constant. The only question is whether the woman is picking up what he’s putting down, if you get my drift.”

She’d seen plenty of women get his drift and then some. “Oh, is that so? The problem is that I’m not picking up what you’re putting down? So far, all you’ve put down is a losing score and a two-dollar lukewarm beer.”

“Hey, I gotcha that ball, didn’t I?” The gleam in his eye said he was teasing.

She repressed a smile and tucked her hair behind her ear. “Out of curiosity,” she said, “what would I have to be doing to prove this was a date?”

He straightened up in the plastic seat. “Well, for one thing, you wouldn’t be standing way over there.”

There was about five feet of space between them, and so she took a couple of steps closer. “How’s this?” she asked.

He frowned. “I think now maybe it’s like we’re distantly related. Like third cousins.”

She took another couple of steps, so that she was standing inches away from his leg. “How’s this?”

“Better, but…” He reached out and grabbed her hand, tugging her toward him. There wasn’t anywhere left for her to go except into his lap. “Ah,” he said as he sat her down on his thigh. “There we go. See? Now this is more convincing.”

The feelings from the week before came rushing back: the warmth at her middle, the way her skin prickled at his physical proximity, the heady, dangerous tingling that they were playing with fire. They were still holding hands. She let her thumb rub against the inside of his palm, and she swore she felt him shiver. “So, it’s a date now?” she murmured, turning her face toward his. She couldn’t bring herself to look directly at him.

“Well, it looks like one,” he replied. He reached up and touched her cheek with the back of his knuckles, stroking gently. “It checks a lot of right boxes. Two people, some sort of evening activity, alcohol and physical contact. I bet we’re pretty convincing at the moment.”

“But?” Her voice was a whisper now.

“Intent,” he said, dropping his hand with a sigh. It fell heavy on her thigh, and his fingers trailed over the denim in an absent gesture. “You need intent for it to be a date.”

“Ah,” she said, forcing a smile. “Motive.”

He smiled back at her. “Exactly. Motive is everything.”

She shifted in his lap so they were almost facing one another, leaning into the same shared space. “So if we wanted it to be a date, it could be.”

“Hmm, yes,” he said, sounding distracted. His hand was creeping up her thigh again, making her catch her breath. She put her hands on his shoulders, unsure whether she was going to pull him closer or push him away. He nuzzled her collarbone and she knew he must be able to feel the pounding of her heart.

Her eyes fell shut. “Hunter…”

“Hmm?”

A raucous cheer went up from the lane next to theirs, making her jump. She remembered this was show, that they were being watched. But when she glanced over, she saw instead a guy standing near the back with a bowling ball. He took something out of his pocket, a powder maybe, and surreptitiously rubbed it on the ball before shoving it back in his trousers again.

“Hunter,” she said again, this time on alert. “Did you just see that?”

“Yeah,” he said, his voice full of regret. “Get him over here.”

She signaled for Sporty, who cast an anxious glance at his team before making the trek across the lanes. “Tense moment right now, McCall. Can it wait?” “We spotted someone doctoring a ball,” Hunter told him, and Sporty’s eyes grew big.

“I knew it! I knew it!” He was practically jumping up and down. “Which dude was it?”

“Not a dude,” McCall told him. “A cat.”

“Uh, say what?”

“That guy over there?” Hunter put his arm around Sporty and turned him so they could look together at the rotund man in a Black Cats jersey. “Check his pockets and you’ll find the goods.”

“But that’s Iverson,” Sporty said, confused. “He’s on our team.”

McCall raised her eyebrows and spread her hands. “Still want us to hang around and book someone for grand larceny?”

“Uh, no. No thank you. I’ll, uh, just have a private chat with the gentleman. No need to say anything to anybody about this, you dig?”

“Not saying anything to anyone about this would be the greatest pleasure of the whole escapade,” Hunter replied, deadpan, and McCall looked down so he wouldn’t see her smile.

Sporty hurried off, and they were left standing alone again on their not-really-a-date. Hunter gave her a ghost of a smile. “Where were we?” he said, and she willed herself not to blush. It wasn’t like she could just climb back into his lap now.

“You, uh, you were telling me your criminalistics theory of dating,” she said. 

“Dates require motive.”

“Right.” He gave a short nod.

She scuffed the ground with her toes. “Do they also require premeditation?”

He tilted his head as he considered the question for a moment, and then he nodded. “Yes, one party has to ask the other party out, with intent, and that’s premeditation.”

“Okay,” she said, “but what if two people are not on a date but then the mood changes and they…you know.”

“I don’t know.” He looked concerned and innocent. “Explain it to me. Use vivid words.”

She gave him a playful shove. “You know—hook up. Have sex. Whatever. But with no premeditation. Is that a date?”

“No.” He paused for effect. “That’s a crime of passion.”

“Ooh.” She winced as he laughed at his own joke. “I think it’s time to get out of here.”

“Past time,” he agreed. “I’m starting to like these shoes.”

Outside, they were quiet as they crossed the parking lot to her car. She opened the hatch and set her bowling ball inside, and Hunter took the opportunity to set his down on the pavement. “Thanks,” she said, “for a truly bizarre evening.”

He chuffed a breath and looked beyond her into the night. “Yeah. Not the strangest Friday night I’ve ever had, but it’s up there.”

There was a moment of awkward silence, and then she fished her for her keys inside her purse. “I should get going.”

“No, wait a sec.” He caught her arm gently and held it. “I, uh, my cousin Andy is getting married up in Santa Barbara. July 17th. I thought maybe, if you’d like, you could come with me.”

She went completely still as they watched each other. His eyes looked black in the low light, and below, his fingers trailed lightly down the inside of her arm. Intent. Motive. Whatever you wanted to call it, it was right there in his gaze. She swallowed with difficulty. “I’d love to, but—”

“Oh,” he said quickly, drawing back like he’d been burned.

“Rick, wait.” She reached for him but he’d pulled far enough away that she couldn’t touch.

“Forget it.”

“I’d love to go,” she said again, “but I can’t. I won’t be here.”

He looked up in surprise. “What? Vacation?”

“No, I’m taking a summer forensics course from the FBI at Quantico. I applied before I got shot, and I didn’t think I would even get in—and in fact, I didn’t initially. I was wait-listed. I just found out today that I made it.” She tried a smile. “I think maybe taking a bullet to the spine might have upped my chances, you know what I mean?”

His smile was forced too. “You think they want to do a unit on you?”

“I was going to tell you earlier…”

“Forget it,” he said again, shoving his hands in his pockets, but she was sure she never would. “When do you leave?”

She bit her lip. “Next week, and it’s a six-week course. I’ll be back mid-August.” “Six weeks. That’s a long time.”

It hadn’t felt very long when she’d signed up for the course, back before she’d nearly died and come to life again. Now she knew. A lot could happen in six seconds, let alone six weeks. She reached out again, and this time, she found him there. She took his hand. “It’ll go by quick,” she said, sniffing back her own emotions. “You’ll see. I’m sure you’ll barely have time to miss me.”

“What did you say your name was?”

“Ha, ha, very funny.” She noticed he didn’t pull away his hand.

“Okay, then, so the wedding is off. How about one dinner before you disappear on me?”

She had no business saying yes. For a hundred reasons. A million. The amount of packing alone she had to do this week—she didn’t even want to consider it. “Dinner,” she said, considering something else instead. “You know, Hunter, that sounds like pre-meditation.”

He yanked his hand back. “Actually, II was thinking Italian,” he joked.  When she didn’t laugh, his smile vanished and he fidgeted with his collar.

She considered some more and gave him a slow smile. What the hell, she thought. If it’s awful, I’m leaving for six weeks anyway. “I think it’s a date,” she said, fingering one of his tiny buttons. He stopped squirming.

“It is?

“Mmm-hmm. I’m the woman, remember? I get to decide.”

***** Notes: if I recall correctly, this was a challenge fic that had a bunch of required elements, including bowling. ;)