Easy Chicago Prep Academy; Thursday May 22 12:38 PM

Jay Halstead had worked at East Chicago Prep Academy for the last three years. After serving in Afghanistan with the Army Rangers for two tours, he'd returned to his home state of Illinois to finish his degree at University of Chicago; double majoring in History and Political Science. He'd gotten a job at ECPA just after graduation and after his first year teaching freshman level history courses and coaching the girl's soccer and boy's basketball teams, he'd easily become one of the most beloved teachers on campus.

It was six days until summer break and he was dreaming of his impending plans; heading up to his family's cabin in Wisconsin for some much needed rest and relaxation, as he headed into the cafeteria to do his lunchroom duty. He'd drawn the short straw on this one and he'd have to spend his lunch break roaming the cafeteria, making sure no one was smoking weed in the bathrooms or making out on the benches.

He was in high spirits despite having to watch a giant room full of horny, angst-ridden teenagers. Next period was his Debate Class elective and they'd be presenting their final projects. He was nerdy enough to admit that it was one of his favorite parts of his job; watching the students plan and prepare their impassioned arguments about real world issues they actually cared about. Despite having to keep most of his own opinions close to the cuff as a teacher, it was pretty obvious that he held some rather liberal views, even in spite of his time in the service.

A pair of his favorite female students had pulled him into a conversation; both dressed up in pantsuits and Bernie Sanders pins for their upcoming debates next period in his classroom. They were discussing some statistics about Planned Parenthood when he would hear the first shot ring out.

It would alarm him in a way he hadn't expected and he'd find himself grabbing the pair of eleventh grade girls and bringing them down to the floor with him, seeking refuge for them under the cafeteria table. Screams and shrieks would ring out in the wake of that gun going off and for a moment he'd hear a sharp ringing in his ears as his mind seemed to zero in on his gut instincts. "Stay down!" He'd yell before pulling himself back up form the floor. Two more shots would ring out before his eyes would fall on the shooter – eyes narrowing on the small frame of the obviously male student, flanked in all black, with a ski mask on his face. It was as though he could feel Jay's eyes on him because he'd hesitate for a moment and then tear off towards the double doors that lead into this giant room. The signature gait would let him know exactly who was behind that mask. He'd go after him without thinking, leaving that eerily quiet cafeteria behind him, hoping that it would be the last time that room saw tragedy today.

District 21, Chicago Police Department 1:13

Antonio's phone would buzz with a text as he sat at his desk, surveying the contents of his wallet, deciding what from the vending machine he might decide to call lunch today. One glance at his phone and he'd basically jumped from his desk. "Lindsay!" He'd call his partner to action as well and the shorter, brunette female would look up from her computer screen to meet his eyes. "Active shooters at Eva's school…" Was all he'd say and the entire team would join them in their rise to action.

Easy Chicago Prep Academy; 1:28 PM

Less than fifteen minutes later, they were flanked with the gear and meeting with the SWAT team leader whose men were already scoping out positions on roofs of surrounding buildings. Antonio, Erin, Hank, Al, Kevin, and Adam would be the first team to breech the doors and they'd split into groups of two and navigate the silent hallways with guns drawn, protective gear in full effect. There were no fatalities reported yet, only one student had been hit but it had been a non-life threatening shot to the leg and since he'd been in the quad, they were able to get him out of there pretty quick.

They'd identify the injured student as the eldest son of one of the Latin Player's ringleaders; Edizio Quinceros. They suddenly had a motive for the shooting; gang retaliation. Quinceros had been fingered for the rape and murder of a G Park Lord girl; the fourteen year old sister of one of that gang's own big wigs; JaBarias Smith. Hundreds of students were still trapped in the school and one of what they'd identified as three potential shooters was still inside. The only hope this knowledge would provide them was, these shooters weren't looking to kill random children; they had specific targets in mind. They'd find some relief in the idea that, they probably weren't going to be walking into a blood bath.

Antonio and Erin would come to a crossroads in their quadrant of the school, one that would lead them to split paths for the first time since entering the building. She'd take slow, steady breaths as she walked down the hall he'd directed her down alone, trying to convince herself that there was nothing to be afraid of. Quiet steps would move her down the length of the walkway and she'd take a large gulp when she heard muffled voices coming from the bend at the edge of the hall, where it looped around into an L shape, connecting to the cafeteria. "I've got voices in the G wing, approaching." She'd whisper into the mic attached under her Kevlar.

"Copy. Finishing a sweep of F wing and I'll be at your six." Antonio would respond.

She'd take another sharp breath as she rounded the hall and her eyes would fall upon the frame of a tall adult male, hands raised, standing about ten yards away from a masked assailant, flanked in all black. She could deduce that the man was a teacher from the black slacks and blue button up he wore, a simple striped tie hanging from his neck. He looked surprisingly calm and collected given the circumstances.

The shooter was clearly a student and she could see his Adam's apple, which would identify him as a male. He was short, only slightly taller than she was herself, maybe standing at about 5'5. All of his face was covered by the ski mask but she could see in his eyes he didn't want to shoot the man who stood in front of him. That was something she could use to her advantage. "Chicago PD, drop the gun and we can all walk out of here." She's said, her voice even despite her panic, her gun trained on the suspect's head.

"Come on Tre, do what she says…" The man's voice would come, his tone one of remorseful begging.

"I can't do that Coach," The teenager wielding a deadly weapon would come back with his obviously definitive response, and though his hand was shaky, he kept the gun aimed at the teacher.

"Come on, you don't want to shoot him." Erin would suggest, moving slowly closer towards the pair of them until she was almost next to the adult male. "You doing okay there, pal?" She'd direct her question to him even though her eyes and gun would stay locked on the assailant.

"I'm fine, we're just talking, isn't that right Tre?" Again, his voice would remain calm and Erin had to give the man her respect, she'd seen even tough cops crumble in situations less stressful than this.

"You're right, I don't want to shoot him, but… I have no problem shooting you." The boy's gun would swing slightly to the right so it was trained on her now. Good, she thought. That was what she was hoping would happen.

"Tre…" The man's voice was even more desperate now; he'd have preferred that gun stay pointed at his own chest, not hers. Tre Dobbins was a kid with something to prove. His whole family was G Park Lords from the jump; but he'd gotten lucky. He won one of the lottery seats for this charter school and it had changed his life. He was on the basketball team and as a sophomore; schools had already been looking at him for college ball. They had a good relationship, there was no way he could pull that trigger when it was aimed at him; he was sure of it. But this beautiful woman, it was a fact you'd think his brain might skip over given the circumstances of their meeting but it was such a striking thing about her he couldn't help but notice, she was a factor he had no control over. Tre's brothers had called him weak, he'd been pushed around by them a few times for not really being part of the G Park Lords; he spent too much time focused on school and basketballs and that "little white girlfriend of his" as they liked to say. These were all things Jay Halstead knew because they'd been told to him in confidence inside of his office, when his beard had grown scruffy and his glasses were resting farther down on his nose than they needed to be. He was being forced to be a part of this act of violence, of that he was sure. But, if you didn't comply to the gang's wishes in the neighborhood Tre came from, then; you'd probably find it was you who wound up dead. "Don't do this man…" But, this kid had something to prove and this situation had already gone out of control. "Don't throw away everything you've been working for…" He'd plead with the boy he'd coached since last year and seen make immense strides both on and off the court.

"Man…. just shut up, okay? Let me think…" The kid would waver in his resolve a little, which Erin would find promising. Antonio's voice would come into her ear letting her know he was approaching from the other end of the hallway, via the cafeteria, he'd be there in a few moments, she just needed to keep this kid talking. Adam and Kev would murmur similar updates on their position as they headed towards her location.

"Listen, you haven't shot anyone yet, right? That was your friend out there who lit up the quad? You put the gun down, you cooperate, and you still have a chance here." Erin would try to reason with him again.

"Nah…" The boy's hand would grow less shaky as he seemed to find his confidence. "If I can't cap a Latin Player today, I may as well earn my stripes doing in a cop." And he would give those words no other thought as he took a breath and pulled the trigger.

Everything from that point would seem to happen in slow motion. She vaguely remembered bracing for the impact of a bullet against her vest but she'd find her body being knocked to the floor by the force of the taller man instead. It wasn't until he was in a heap on top of her that she realized he'd moved in front of her to take the impact of the shot before it could find her. This stark realization would cause her to push him off of her gently and roll him over, she'd felt his blood pooling by her own neck before she'd even gotten her arms on him to roll him. "What did you do?" She screamed at the stranger, her eyes moving towards the shooter who'd taken off down the hallway only to be close lined by Antonio, who was throwing him to the ground and cuffing him after tossing the gun away. Kev and Adam would burst into that breezeway moments later as well, providing back up.

With the immediate threat gone, she'd focus her full attention on the wounded man in front of her. She'd identify that the bleeding was coming from his upper shoulder area and it appeared that the bullet had only just struck him, it was a through and through shot, thankfully. "Roll an ambo. I have a white male, 30s, GSW to the left shoulder. Dawson has the offender in custody."

She'd pull the man's upper body into her lap while she knelt behind him, her hands stacked on top of each other to apply pressure to the gushing wound. "Stay with me buddy," She'd whisper soothingly, her eyes searching his face. "What kind of idiot dives in front of a bullet meant for someone wearing a Kevlar vest?" But if she was being honest, she knew exactly where that bullet would've hit her if it had in fact made contact with the shooter's intended target. Given that when they were both standing, her throat came level to the space on his shoulder where the bullet had cut through, she could only swallow hard at the thought of what state she'd be in now if he hadn't decided to play hero.

He'd smile, despite his current situation. "Idiots who don't want to watch beautiful girls they just met get shot in the head?" He'd offer. She couldn't help but smile at that whispered confession and even though she was not the kind of girl who got hung up on pretty, charming, clean cut boys like this; she felt a giddiness swell up in her. He thought she was beautiful. More than that, he was just shot and, he was still able to flirt.

This notion would have her ride in the ambulance with him to Med, explaining to Hank that he'd taken a bullet for her and she had to see this through now. Hank had nodded in understanding and she'd been on her way, her fingers interlaced with this stranger's in a silent offering of comfort and support as they rode to the emergency room.

Chicago Med, Late Afternoon

The ambulance ride there had felt like an eternity. Erin always found herself becoming invested in the lives of the victims they met working cases, but she felt a very particular draw to this man, who had been willing to make the ultimate sacrifice for her without so much as second thought to the matter. That detail would puzzle her the entire time she'd sat in the waiting room.

She'd spent a considerable amount of time scrubbing his blood from her hands and she'd thrown away the plaid button up shirt she'd been wearing, which was also covered in crimson liquid. There were still traces of his blood on the white v-neck she had on underneath but it was less noticeable and she could really care less about these things if she was being honest. All of her concerns were in one place now; with him.

She'd wait for a couple of hours before a nurse was telling her she could go see him. She'd walk into the hospital room and find him in a bed, gauze and ace bandages wrapped around his shoulder. The nurse had told her that he was extremely lucky and that given his height and muscular build, the bullet had grazed the top meaty part of his shoulder and it had only taken a couple stitches for him to be good as new. He'd have a scar and a story to tell, but, he could go home that night with a prescription for pain meds and orders to get lots of rest and stay hydrated. If anything felt weird with the stitches, he should call to speak to the resident on call that night. She'd been relieved to hear that he was going to be fine and she'd contemplated just leaving after getting the update but something kept her there and it wasn't just that she wanted to say thank you for what he'd done.

"Seems like your heroics panned out, it's all over the news; Hero teacher saves female cop in dramatic shoot out… I think they're going to make a lifetime movie about you…" She'd offer as she walked into the room, his eyes were already open and staring at the news splayed across the television screen mounted to the wall that told a tale very similar to the one she'd just given.

"You stayed…" A smile would grow on his face and her own smile would follow suit and he'd notice those dimples that would make her even more radiant in his eyes, causing him to swallow hard.

"Well, a guy takes a bullet for me, I feel like I owe him the courtesy of seeing if he needs a ride home or…." She'd be bolder than she usually was with her next statement, "… if he has a girlfriend I should call who he'd want to pick him up?"

Amusement would play on his face as she did some not so subtle investigating into his personal life. "Nope, no girlfriend. I'm kind of… married to my job. Single dad, lots of kids…. not many chicks are into that." He'd jest, referring to his commitment to his relationship with his students, and she'd appreciate the fact that despite meeting under stressful circumstances and not really having a chance to talk, they already seemed to have a very easy natural rapport with one another.

He was so charming. She was in trouble. These realizations would have her biting her lip. "I'm married to my job as well so… maybe we cheat on our significant others tonight and I drive you home from this place and get you dinner to say thank you and maybe to also say sorry for calling you an idiot. The truth is…. you really did save me out there. That bullet hits your shoulder it…" She'd trail off.

"It hits you in the throat or maybe, if your lucky, less fatally in the chin," He'd finish it for her. "Yeah… I know. I realized you had the vest but it wasn't any use to you covering those areas. I calculated the trajectory of the bullet as soon as he'd shifted the gun towards you and I just… knew I couldn't let anything happen to you, not before we had a chance to actually meet." His words would charm her further and the blush that tinted her cheeks would evidence that. He'd end her embarrassment there though, "Dinner sounds great, by the way. I'm just, waiting to sign the discharge papers and change out of this dress and we can head out."

Bullet's trajectory? That sounded mighty informed for a high school teacher. "You ever in the service?" She'd ask, studying him carefully.

"Yeah," He'd laugh gently and she'd noticed the freckles that lined his nose and her eyes would trail down to his well defined forearms that were also adorned with them. "I was an Army Ranger; did two tours in Afghanistan before I came back to finish my degree and get a job at East Chicago Prep." He'd confirm her suspicions that he wasn't just your run of the mill high school history teacher.

"Well, aren't you just full of surprises." He'd grin at the woman when she said that. "I'm Erin, by the way. I know your name because I went through your wallet in the ambulance." She confessed. "Feels only right you know mine as well."

"You're very thorough." He'd compliment her playfully and they'd fall into a comfortable silence just staring and smiling at one another, and she'd saunter closer to his bedside until her hands had come to rest on the white blanket that covered his legs and her knuckles had brushed timidly against his fingers. He'd reach for her hand just as the door opened to his room causing her to take a step back as the doctor came in.

"You look like absolute shit." The redhead doctor would remark with a serious face and Erin would have an expression of shock written into her own features at his lack of bedside manner. Both men would pause for a beat and then dissolve into laughter.

"This nitwit is my brother." Jay would laugh gently; motioning at the man who she'd study and realize did look a lot like him. Certainly much less handsome though, she'd think to herself.

"Yes, I'm his much more successful, older brother. Doctor's make a lot more than teachers, you know." He'd wink at Erin and she wouldn't be able to stop herself from rolling her eyes at his antics.

"Well, he took a bullet for me so…. I'm good with my prospects." She grinned and Jay would feel a sense of pride at the fact this insanely hot woman had not only shut down his brother in favor of him, but, that he'd gotten to witness it.

"Fair enough, if you feel you owe the man… I get it. But, when he disappoints you…. just ask him for my number." He'd grin. "I'm Will, by the way," He'd finally introduce himself properly, extending his hand to her.

"Detective Erin Lindsay," She say, punctuating her title to reinforce the fact that she wasn't just some prize to be won after a fight between brothers.

"Nice to meet you detective." He'd grin again and it would soften her annoyance at him slightly. "Glad you're okay, brother." He'd add, turning his attention back to the bed where Jay was laid up. "April is bringing the paperwork now. If you need a ride I—" Jay would cut him off with an emphatic look.

"Nah, I'm good there." He'd say firmly and Will would take the hint and give him a sly smile.

"My man," He'd whisper, clasping his brother on the shoulder. "Shoot me a text if you need anything," He'd add, heading back towards the door. "Nice to meet you." He'd acknowledge Erin once more and with that, he'd be gone.

The nurse would appear in the room not too long after and he'd sign the paperwork and get the pamphlets on wound care before she too was rushing off to help some other patient. Erin would leave the room so he could change. She was waiting in front of the double door entrance way to the room when she noticed it open slightly. "Hey, weird favor… can't figure out how to put on this shirt because my arm is numb so…"

Erin would enter the room with a roll of her eyes but as soon as she took in his shirtless form, she'd find herself slack-jawed. Holy fuck what kind of teacher had a body like that? Was this man grown in a lab? Her eyes would navigate his toned stomach hungrily and she'd take a deep breath as she forced her eyes to his, a slight blush tinting her cheeks at the very obvious way she'd just checked him out. He was kind enough not to call her out on it and he handed her the white shirt that sat folded in his own pair of hands. "My shirts were soaked with blood so they threw them away but they gave me this…" He said, placing the fabric into her palms. It was a standard issue white t-shirt.

She rolled it slightly in her hands and motioned for him to duck so she could lower it over his head. It would cause her to move closer to him and he'd inhale the scent of her shampoo and the faint perfume on her wrists and neck. It would make him close his eyes, his brain willing his olfactory senses to memorize those smells. He'd slide his good arm through one arm hole and then she'd use her own hands to gently navigate his arm through the other sleeve and she'd slowly work the fabric up his arm until it was secure over his wound. She'd smooth out the fabric over his torso and they'd both draw in sharp breaths as their eyes met. She'd swallow hard and part of her wanted to lean up onto her toes and kiss him right there but she didn't have the nerve to do it.

His hand would rise and brush some hair out of her face and they'd study each other tepidly for another moment, both sort of hoping the other would make a move to take it further but when neither of them had found the confidence after two long minutes, they'd take a step back from each other slightly and the moment would fade. "Well, you've got your shirt on now." She'd say lamely, because she knew she should say something to fill the void of silence, but she just wasn't sure what.

"You sound disappointed," He'd tease, taking the opportunity to bring up her earlier ogling of him, which he'd previously let slide.

She gave him a nervous laugh and rolled her eyes but she wouldn't do herself the disservice of pretending that statement wasn't one hundred percent true. "Easy there, teach." She'd giggle as he finished putting on his shoes.

"We are quite the pair aren't we," He'd suggest as they walked to the hall. He noticed the blood on her shirt and his own pants still had some stains of it as well. "I'm not sure what restaurant would allow us in in this condition but, there is a really amazing pizza place next to my apartment and I swear I'm a gentleman if you're interested in grabbing a pie and enjoying it on a leather couch in front of a 65 inch plasma screen?"

"Only if we can watch Stanley cup highlights?" She'd ask, after pausing a minute to contemplate his words.

Holy fuck. It was his turn to have that thought about her this time. He was going to marry this girl someday; of that he was convinced.

Jay's Apartment; Evening

His ideas about her would only be confirmed the more time they spent together. She'd agreed to the triple meat deep-dish pizza and that right there was almost grounds for him to propose. They'd driven to get the pizza from the place he's talked up by his house in relative silence, a couple stolen glances and nervous giggles exchanged between them. They'd parked outside of his place; a quaint two bedroom near Edison Park and walk to get pizza. Their hands would brush timidly again while they walked and made small talk about the Cubs and the best pizza they'd had in Chicago. He'd regale her with stories about his students as they walked back with the pizza in tow. The way his eyes lit up when he spoke about them would do her in completely; there was a genuine sweetness to his words. She wished she could've had a teacher like this growing up; maybe things would've been different.

"So anyway, that's why I no longer grab drinks with coworkers, let's just say you only need to be invited into one awkward threesome with the ladies of the Spanish department before you learn to be less social with your colleagues." He'd finish the story he'd captivated her with as he slid the key into the lock. They'd both share a laugh at the way it ended.

His apartment was clean; spotless compared to hers. Everything seemed to have its rightful place and the mat next to the door that currently housed a pair of sneakers would indicate he preferred guests to remove their shoes. She'd step out of her brown boots and it would leave her even shorter as she stood in front of him. He'd smile down at her as he kicked off his own shoes and placed them on the mat. "Army habits," He'd note, alluding to what felt like his former life. "The couch is in there," He motioned with his head as he took the pizza from her hands, she'd insisted on carrying everything because of his shoulder but the bullet wound seemed more like a blessing than anything else right now, because; it had brought her here. "I'll get some plates, make yourself at home." He'd suggest and if they were only more familiar this would be the part where it felt natural to press a soft kiss to her lips. But, he'd squelch that thought and disappear into his modest kitchen as she made her way to the couch.

The decorations were simple; a few posters in frames hung carefully at angles she was sure he'd taken the time to measure. A bookshelf held volumes on history; probably textbooks from college and others that looked like they must've been his favorites because the binding was well worn and there were sticky notes protruding from them at varying angles like he'd poured over their accounts more than once; memorizing anecdotes to undoubtedly share with students.

There were a couple pictures on that shelf; one of him in much younger days with a boy who must've grown up to be that redheaded doctor she'd met at the hospital. The pair of them had to be preteens in this photo and it seemed like they were on the porch of a cabin, arms slung around each other, each holding popsicles in their free hands, evidence of that sugary sweetness rimming their lips. "Cute kids, right?" He'd ask, ambling out towards the living room with two plates with slices of pizza and two bottles of water tucked under his good arm. He was already imaging how she would look sat on the porch of that family cabin in Wisconsin; where he already felt compelled to make new memories with her.

"Grew up to be little heart breakers, undoubtedly." She'd grin, moving to grab the plates of pizza from him. "You should take it easy, your shoulder is numb from the morphine but when the pain catches up to you…"

"Yeah, I've…." He swallowed hard because this wasn't something he talked about outside of therapy and certainly not a topic he usually broached with total strangers, but she was different. His usual rules didn't seem to apply here. She could ask him anything and he'd tell her an answer as long as she wanted. "I've been shot before." He'd confirm. "Part of the reason I got out of the Rangers and finished my degree to become a teacher." He'd supply and she'd nod in understanding.

"Where?" Her voice was quiet and unassuming enough. And even without clarification, he'd know she meant where had he been hit.

"Back of my left leg, broke it in two places. Took a long time to recover, but, it was great for sitting there and doing coursework." He'd indicate the books on the shelves he'd found her studying when he walked in. "Blessing in disguise?" He'd suggest, funny how getting shot always seemed to find him some consolation prize that made it worth it. The woman in front of him, sitting down on his oversized distressed leather couch, would be the greatest one of all though.

"Tell me more teacher stories." She'd plead between bites of pizza.

He'd tell her a few tales that left her in a fit of giggles and he couldn't help but notice that she'd moved closer to him as the time had passed and once they were both full and plates had been abandoned on the coffee table, she'd been close enough for their legs to touch and for his arm to come around her so that she was settled in the crook of it wordlessly.

He'd put on a documentary he'd told her about; something about Yemen and farms and child trafficking that was neither romantic or mood inducing but he'd been so passionate about his description that she'd agreed to watch it. The toils and stresses of the day would take their toll on her and twenty minutes into the film, she'd drift off with her head moving to his chest and his heart would flutter at the closeness of her and how the scents of her he'd tried to memorize about her earlier would come flooding back to him with ease. A loud bang emanating from the scene unfolding on the TV would startle her and she'd stir awake, her cheeks tinting pink with embarrassment as she realized she'd fallen asleep. "Sorry-" She began, but he'd end her apology before it was finished.

"Don't be. I liked it…" He'd whisper and as they stared at each other she'd finally be compelled to make the first move and she'd find herself leaning into kiss him and though it would start tender and timid, he'd quickly grow the passion of it. If she could make the first move then he'd be more than happy to take it to the next level. His hand would come up to grip her face possessively in a move she wouldn't even have known she would like but the aggressiveness of it made her feel sexy and wanted, but the gentleness of the way he held his hand there against her face made her feel safe and cared for. The simple act would have her climbing towards him and her hands would tangle into the hair at the base of his neck as his own hands moved to grip her hips.

She'd move to press things further by removing her own shirt and his hungry eyes would take in every bit of her exposed skin and tight body that was now revealed to him with the break in their make out session. "I should… take you on a proper date first…" He'd trail off as his lips seemed to ignore the words falling from them and they pressed open-mouthed kisses to her neck and trailed down dangerously close to her chest, which was rising and falling more rapidly now with her heightened desire.

"You took a bullet for me; you don't have to wine and dine me to take me to bed." Would be her husky reply. The reminder of their shared experience, the tragedy that had brought them here (though they'd both be thankful for how things turned out, it could've been far worse for everyone involved), the gun that could've taken her from him before he'd ever tasted those sweet lips or discovered her most sensitive of places; that would motivate him to break his rules of being a gentleman. Even with that wounded shoulder, he'd pick her up from that couch and her legs would wrap around his waist as her lips found his again and he carried her to his bed.

He'd lay her down on dark cotton sheets and make fast work of the rest of her outer layer of clothes. Once he'd rid her of her jeans, he'd pause to really look at her as she lay there, propped up on her elbows, staring hungrily at him. "You're the most gorgeous woman I have ever seen," Would be his whispered confession into the nape of her neck before he pressed kisses there.

She'd work so gently to take his shirt off, similarly to how she'd helped him get it on in that hospital room hours before and then his slacks would come next and she'd blush in the dark at his confession about her beauty and she'd show her appreciation for that sweet sentiment by pushing him onto his back and sliding herself down his long torso while planting kisses there. She'd honor his heroism with her lips in an act she performed for very few men because it certainly wasn't her favorite way to get someone off but he'd risked his life for her today and it had made a real difference in her existence so it felt like the least she could do to show her appreciation of those efforts.

He wouldn't let her finish the job though before he was using one strong, freckled arm to pull her up and for his lips to find hers again as his hand made work of the clasp of her bra and then she was helping him remove the unmatched panties she had on the bottom; her lingerie choices made that morning hadn't figured they'd been seen by anyone. The seconds it took for him to remove those last bits of fabric would tick by like hours in their minds and finally he was thrusting into her with ardent intentions and they'd share tempestuous kisses with roaming hands until they'd each found release and she'd collapsed against his strong chest, breathlessly. "That was amazing." She'd admit into his neck as she snuggled against him, not wanting this moment to end.

He'd seem to share a similar sentiment as he drew her against his chest, clearly intent on keeping her there, flush against him, as long as possible. This was the part of the night where she'd usually find herself slipping out; hoping the guy she'd fallen into bed with would hop into the shower so she could do so without awkward conversation about leaving. But tonight, she wanted nothing more than to stay tangled in those sheets with him until sleep had found her again like it had on the couch and before she knew it; she'd be doing just that.

The last thing she'd remember before drifting off to peaceful sleep was the way he pressed his lips against her forehead and his hand had come to rest against her lower back.

She felt safe. Even after everything that had transpired that day; it seemed that this place she'd found, nestled into him and intoxicated by the pheromones around them now, was where she meant to be all along.