_{‘    nice try.    ’      UNBELIEVABLE.  if she has to give him credit for anything,  it’s his determination.  she repositions on the couch,  angled so that her back presses against the armrest  &  she can face him fully.  dinner was a stilted affair,  forced civility between him  &  the still colorfully named  detective douche,  any awkward lulls in conversation reliably filled by trixie’s innocent chatter.  dan left before dessert.  there’s a nagging voice in the back of her mind that says  call him,  check in,  but the pinot grigio makes it a hell of a lot simpler to focus on what’s in front of her.}

_{‘    wait.  so,  i say i  owe  you one  &  you  —  let me see if i’m getting this right.    ’      she’s too sober to account for the swell of laughter that builds in her chest,  the smile pulling at each corner of her mouth  &  the way a hand lifts to cover it.      ‘    out of   everything  you could ask for,  THIS  is the favor you’re calling in ?    ’}

_{oddly endearing in its childishness,  a decisive step down from the innuendos  &  recurring attempts to get her into bed that,  at some point,  started to feel like a  TEST  of her own resolve.  it’s a shadowy line.  they toe the edge every day.  you can’t deny that there’s a connection between us.}

_{maybe,  then,  a  test  is the whole point.  like a first date  —  not that she’d call this a date :  most of the time you know  before  the kiss,  but sometimes that’s what it takes.  a definitive yes or no.  smile fades,  eyes achingly bright,  she’s looking right at him  &  she  still  can’t figure him out,  even now,  even after getting this far  &  establishing this  TRUST  that doesn’t come easily.  she’s letting her guard down,  again.}

_{‘   –––––––  okay.   ’}

_{a softer tone than before.  less  self - assured.  she leans in,  smells the subtle musk of cologne  &  the sweet residue of his last drink that somehow  DOESN’T  turn her stomach.  absurd,  vexing,  like so much about him.}

_{leans in an inch further.  she isn’t drunk this time.}

_{she’s almost  too  clearheaded.} 

_{there are no fireworks when their mouths finally meet,  no orchestral crescendo :  but it’s  warm.  somehow impossibly familiar.  nothing hesitant,  nothing clumsy or uncertain.  lips part  &  it’s an open invitation to keep going.  truth be told,  it’s  better  than she expected.}

_{he won’t let her live this one down.}

_{two word starters.  // accepting !}

_{‘    yeah ?  why’s that ?    ’      in the interim,  she does a visual sweep of a girl who definitely hadn’t shown up in their pool of suspects.  but it’s a cryptic remark,  enough to give chloe pause  &  the distinctly unwelcome sensation that she’s  MISSING SOMETHING.  her badge clears its holster,  held up briefly as a wordless identification.  she can’t afford to leave any stone unturned,  no matter how innocuous.}

_{‘    ––––––  what’d you say your name was,  again ?    ’}

_{two word starters.  // accepting !}

_{‘    no,  i’m  –––––––  really  not.    ’}

_{her face is starting to feel warm,  but she’ll blame that on half a glass of wine  &  not enough central AC.  they’re still walking this tightrope that’s as maddening as it is comforting,  &  she’s running pretty low on excuses of the  WHY NOT  kind.  then it starts to feel warm  everywhere  until she has to look away,  smile into her glass,  reflect in that half - drunk,  half - sober way that either illustrates poor judgment or the only time things have any clarity.  she hasn’t decided.}

_{‘    i don’t know what it is about you.    ’}

_{pondered thoughtfully,  unexpectedly,  with no real prompt for the sentiment.  words often come a little easier,  with a little more  VULNERABILITY,  at times like this.  when it’s quiet.  when there’s no one around but the two of them.}

_{‘    i mean,  you’re clearly nuts.    ’      teasing,  a turn of her head to smile instead across the finite space between her  &  him.      ‘    you are  —  INFURIATING,  on a good day.  but for some reason,  it’s like  —  most of the time you’re the only person who has my back.  the only person i can  trust.  is that crazy ?    ’}

_{two word starters.  // accepting !}

_{‘    don’t move,  hands where i can see ‘em !    ’}

_{adrenaline is familiar :  that’s not what stops her cold.  he’s a  KID.  she’s gotten this far in the force by the skin of her teeth,  by working her ass off  —  &  by trusting her instincts,  for better or worse.  something about this entire case has felt  OFF  from the jump,  just like palmetto.  molars grind,  a hard breath exhaled through her nose,  &  she begins to lower the gun.  slowly.}

_{keeps a solid grip on it with one hand,  blue eyes fixed on this  TEENAGE BOY  whose demeanor doesn’t exactly scream  cold - blooded killer.  free hand moves to her radio before the cavalry can bust in.}

_{‘    false alarm.  he’s not our guy.    ’}

_{all signs,  in fact,  point to this near - disaster being a prime example of  WRONG PLACE,  WRONG TIME.  shoulders relax,  gaze narrowing.      ‘   so you wanna tell me what the hell you’re doing in here ?   ’}

_{two word starters.  // accepting !}

_{liquor burns the throat  &  dulls perception ;  takes the edge off,  as the old cliché goes.  she doesn’t even particularly  like  whiskey,  but nothing else cuts through this persistent tension she can’t name.  now,  not even that seems to work.  she knocks back another sip to empty the glass,  tells herself to get up  &  walk out despite the discrepancy between brain  &  limbs.}

_{when did she grow so fucking dependent ?  she’s supposed to have  THICKER SKIN.  here comes the grimace.}

_{‘    sure.  i can take a hint.    ’      still,  she hasn’t moved from the barstool.  swivels a little  —  &  sways  —  to look at him.      ‘    what i  CAN’T  figure out is why you’ve suddenly got a  stick  up your ass.    ’}

_{four word starters.  // accepting !}

_{‘    yeah.  i will.  i’m on your side  —  but,  uh.  you don’t hear that a lot,  huh ?    ’      she doesn’t have to be a social worker to recognize the signs ;  father out of the picture,  mother a negligent drunk,  smart kid digging himself into an  early grave  by his own misguided machinations.  ironic,  when so much of what he does seems driven by that one base instinct :  SURVIVAL.  it makes her heartsick.}

_{she recognizes,  too,  what it must’ve taken for someone like him to consciously reach out  &  ask for help.}

_{‘    hey.  i’ll do everything in my power to get you out of here,  but you’re gonna have to  TRUST  me.  &  believe me,  i know that’s a big deal.    ’}

_{four word starters.  // accepting !}