Lyrics belong to Avril Lavigne- Fall to Pieces.
Chapter Eight: A Pinch of Sanity
Wanna know who you are
Wanna know where to start
I wanna know what this means
Wanna know how you feel
Wanna know what is real
I wanna know everything… everything
I don't wanna fall to pieces
I just wanna sit and stare at you
I don't wanna talk about it
I don't want a conversation
I just wanna cry in front of you
I don't wanna talk about it
Cause I'm in love with you
I'm in love with you…
-
Meghan sighed loudly and dramatically. Carelessly she tossed her pen on a table in the break room and stood, shoving the uncomfortable chair behind her with an irritated screech.
"Something on your mind?" A hint of amusement lit Hawkes' dark eyes. He regarded her through thick, black-framed glasses.
"Whyyyy…" she drawled, drawing out the word, "is someone who is so damn annoying invading my life? I'm trying to work. Jeez."
Hawkes hid a smile. In time… "Meg, I'm not going to dance around the subject. He likes you." He waited for the explosion. When he finally managed to meet his friend's eyes, he had to smother a laugh.
"What the HELL?!?"
Hawkes grimaced. Regularly pouty red lips formed a small 'o'; her violet eyes were blazing fire.
She spun on one heel and stormed out without another word, slamming the door behind her hard enough to rattle windows.
-
Coffee. That's what she needed. Lots and lots of coffee. With sugar. And cream.
And a pinch of sanity.
"I'll definitely need a helluva lot more than that," she mumbled.
"A helluva lot more than what?" Flack asked conversationally, materializing unexpectedly by her side from out of absolutely nowhere. His hands were stuffed into the pockets of his open navy blazer, revealing a fitted black t-shirt underneath. The picture of laid-back, he casually leaned against the counter where she concocted her highly caffeinated beverage.
"Go away," she snapped.
"Why?"
"Because."
"Why because?"
"How the hell did you become a cop?"
"What, you want me to interrogate you?" Flack pivoted on the balls of his feet so he was now directly behind her, pinning her between his chest and the counter ledge with one hand on either side of her waist. His voice dropped low to a sexy growl.
Meghan's fluttering hands stilled, unable to move as she felt his hot breath on the back of her neck, sending delicious shivers down her spine. She stiffened.
"What are… um… What are you… um… doing…"
She squirmed, and Flack's hands flew straight to her hips.
"Don't. Do that again."
Meg spun to face him, her lips mere inches from his. Flack barely held in a groan. She had to be doing this on purpose.
You're killing me here, Meghan…
"I. Told. You. Not. To. Move." He ground out through gritted teeth before fusing their lips together.
There was that damn sexy growl again… Meghan's mind went blank.
He wasn't going to be patient, that much was clear. Passionate and demanding the kiss screamed "enemies be damned" and nearly drove her to her knees. Too caught up in the unbelievably amazing things he did with his lips and tongue to focus properly, she held herself up by bracing her palms on the counter. Flack's fingertips skirted over her waist and lower back, causing a tug deep in her abdomen and leaving what seemed like scorch marks on her skin.
Finally reality kicked in and she shoved him backwards; cheeks flushed pink, hair mussed, lips still throbbing from the pressure of the kiss. She heaved herself forward. It sure took a lot of concentration just to remain standing- damn balance issues. Meghan balled her hand into a fist and took a swing at his arm, connecting solidly with the muscles of his biceps.
"Good god, Flack, what the hell were you thinking?!"
"Ow…"
He stuttered lamely, mumbling something incoherent under his breath and stalked out of the empty lab.
Meghan collapsed in a chair, exhaling and inhaling in short bursts. "Yeah… that's right. Run away and leave me in a little puddle on the floor. Dammit, Flack!"
-
It didn't take a genius to figure out that Meghan Lindale had just been kissed. Hawkes smiled a little at the storm of a coroner, afraid to even open his mouth. "Uh…"
Meghan glowered angrily at the wall. "You know how I said I was sure he hated me?"
Hawkes nodded silently, straightening from his position over a corpse.
"Well, I changed my mind. I friggin' hate him right back. As far as I'm concerned, the man can go straight to hell," Meg informed him, her voice abrupt.
"He kissed you didn't he?"
She glared at him.
-
"Alright, I forgive you," Meghan grumbled.
Hawkes offered her a french fry smothered in ketchup. "Peace?"
Meghan granted him a tiny smile and grabbed it. "Fine."
He tapped her foot underneath the table. "Good. I made plans for your birthday tomorrow, so you had to let it go sooner or later. You aren't busy, are you?"
"Nah, 'cept for Uncle Mac wants to take me out for supper. I'm free after that, though. S not like I have a hot date or anything," she rolled her eyes, finishing her coke. "That okay with you?"
"I'll make it work," Hawkes replied reluctantly. It took a minute before Meg realized he was kidding. She kicked his shin lightly.
"Very funny."
He grinned. "I try."
-
I don't wanna fall to pieces
I just wanna sit and stare at you
I don't wanna talk about it
I don't want a conversation
I just wanna cry in front of you
I don't wanna talk about it
Cause I'm in love with you
I'm in love with you…
