I wrote this the same day as the previous chapter, making a whopping daily word count of 5541 for that Sunday. I told myself I wasn't going to post this chapter until after I'd finished my assignment as an incentive for myself to actually get it done, but it's kicking my butt at the moment and I hate it (self assessment is the worst), so I'm posting the chapter as a bit of a pick me up instead.

Chapter 46

Our usual table in the back corner of Shorty's was free, like always, and I had to wonder anew if the guys paid the owner to keep it open for them -they did seem to have a good relationship with the guy. Lester slid into the booth with his back to the wall, and, assuming that Bobby would also prefer to know that his six was covered, I started to slide in on the opposite side. Bobby, though, remained standing, looking awkward.

"Sit down, Brown," Lester instructed, slapping the seat beside him. "You're making the place look untidy."

"In a minute," Bobby replied, barely sparing the guy a glance as he focused almost the entirety of his attention on me. Now I was feeling awkward. "Steph, would you mind if we went somewhere with better lighting so I can check you over properly?"

Lester snorted, grinning in that sloppy way he gets when he's about to make sexual comments. "What, like the bathroom?" he suggested. "Are you sure you're taking her away for purely medical purposes, Bobby? Because I know if it was me, and I had a beautiful lady alone in the bathroom I'd- OW!"

There was no way I was going to let him finish his statement. I knew he was a massive flirt and a ladies man, renowned for his sexual conquests, and his comments of this nature were as crude as they were frequent, but between he uncomfortable feeling in my gut, the heat I could feel colouring my own cheeks, and the way Bobby's dark complexion seemed to take on a slightly pinker hue as his fist clenched by his side, I didn't think any of us needed to hear about what Lester would do with a beautiful lady alone in the bathroom. The implied knowledge was more enough, so I kicked him under the table.

"I'll go ask Shorty if we can borrow his office for a few minutes," Bobby gritted out, turning on his heels and stalking away.

I watched after him for a few seconds until the crowd closed around him before turning my best Burg Glare on Lester. "What the hell is wrong with you?" I asked mildly.

"What?" he said innocently. "I was just saying that a man and a woman disappearing into the bathroom together brings to mind certain connotations."

I rolled my eyes and leaned back into the cushioned back rest of the booth, crossing my arms over my chest. He was completely right on that point, but it was clear that his comments were made entirely in jest. Just his usual banter. And if it had been about any other man and woman disappearing into a bathroom, I might have laughed along with him, but it wasn't. It was Bobby and me. The fact that Bobby had confessed his non-platonic feelings for me made Lester's comments awkward as hell, because as soon as he even hinted at the idea of sexually explicit actions between the two of us, we were both guaranteed to think about that kiss we'd shared at the airport before I left for England. At least, I was.

Bobby and I were friends. Good friends. Hell, I was even willing to go so far as describe him as my best guy friend at this stage. I saw or spoke to him every day without fail. We hung out on a regular basis outside of our morning runs. Being in his presence felt easy and natural and I could talk to him about things that mattered to me without him judging me or telling me I was wrong. The last few weeks we'd become more comfortable in each other's company than I'd ever experienced with a member of the opposite sex before. There was no pressure to be anything or do anything when I was with Bobby. We just were. And that was enough. At least, I hoped it was enough for him. Most of the time I managed to put the fact of his feelings out of my mind completely, just enjoying the companionship and friendship we'd built together, but then something would happen, like Lester's comments just now, and I'd be plunged into a cold bucket of worry. I didn't want to be leading Bobby along, making him think that we would definitely get together eventually, but at the same time, I didn't want to push him away and lose him as a friend all together.

"You okay, Beautiful?" Lester asked, jolting me out of my thoughts with a gentle nudge of his foot against mine. "You're awfully pensive tonight."

I gave him a look. "Pensive?" I repeated.

"It means thoughtful," he explained.

"I know what it means," I said, shaking my head. "Didn't know that you did, though."

"Hey!" he protested, nudging me under the table again. "I'll have you know that I'm a pretty smart guy!" And then, grinning mischievously, he added. "My mama said so." He leaned his arms on the table, eyeing me critically for a moment. "Seriously, Steph, you look upset."

I shrugged and sat forward, mirroring his position. "I guess I kind of am," I admitted.

"Why?" he asked, laying a hand on top of mine and spearing me with his concerned puppy dog eyes. "Because I teased Bobby about the bathroom thing? You know I only do it because I think it's funny how flustered he gets about that kind of thing. The guy is like a blushing sixteen year old when it comes to sex and women. He can dig a bullet out of your flesh no worries, but talk about adult relationships and he turns into a bumbling fool. The guys had maybe three relationships in his entire life and each one has been super serious and super awkward to watch play out. I tried to convince him to have a one-night stand once while we were on leave, but he's just not built for it. He plays the long game, and it's the only game he knows."

"It's not just that," I told him truthfully. "I don't like the way you tease Bobby and make him feel uncomfortable, but I know you can't help it. You're Lester Santos, notorious ladies man." I shook my head and sighed, meeting his gaze more directly. "I guess I just thought my car bombing days were over, you know? I've been doing everything right! My capture rate has improved some kind of significant percent, and I've been continuing with the training Brandon started, but my car still blows up? It doesn't seem fair."

Lester, the ass, had the audacity to laugh at me. "Steph," he said seriously. "Your title of Bombshell Bounty Hunter has more to do with your run of rotten luck than with your apparent lack of skill set. Just because you're better at catching people and defending yourself now doesn't mean that the bad juju is all gone."

"Gee," I deadpanned. "Thanks for the pep talk."

"You know what I mean!" Lester cried. "The people in this town are crazy. They don't give a flying fuck if you can bring them down with nothing but a toothpick and a roll of toilet paper, you're the Bombshell Bounty Hunter, and that mean they're gonna set your shit on fire."

"I'm not sure that's the exact logic of the situation," Bobby commented, arriving at the end of the table once more. "But it seems to be the way your luck runs."

I slumped down in my seat, wishing that, for once in my life, the universe would give me a break in the luck department. I'm not sure what I did to deserve such terrible Karma, but I was damn sure sick of the fall out. Literally. "What'd Shorty say?" I asked Bobby, wanting to talk about anything but my own misfortune.

"He couldn't offer up his office, but he said it'd be okay if we took up a small corner of the kitchen for a few minutes," Bobby explained, extending a hand toward me in invitation. "Maybe the sight of all the food being prepped will keep your mind off the fact that it's a medical examination," he added quirking his lips up in a small smile that sent a wave of relief through me. Joking was always a good sign.

"Ooooorrr," Lester said, as I allowed Bobby to pull me out of the booth. "You could just take her word that she's okay for once, bro. Seriously, I think she'd be the authority on her own body at this point."

Rather than react to his suggestion that Bobby was being overprotective, I quipped, "Like you've ever passed up opportunity to give a girl a physical examination?" And tugged on Bobby's arm to get him to show me the way to the area we'd been given permission to use, leaving Lester doing his best goldfish impression in our wake. There was, of course, only one guaranteed way of shutting Lester Santos up, and that was to beat him at his own game. I'd say that was a solid win for Team Plum.

We were silent as we made our way through the hall that lead away from the main restaurant area, past the bathrooms to the swinging door that lead to the dishwashing end of the kitchen. After a quick survey of the area, Bobby spotted a small area of bench that was clear and directly under a light so he'd be able to see without problem.

"Sorry," he murmured as I hoisted myself up to sit on the bench in front of him.

"For what?" I said, frowning and trying very hard not to stare at all the food I could see from this vantage point.

"For being…" he gestured vaguely toward me and then indicated himself, like that was supposed to explain his reasoning on the topic. "And for Lester's comments earlier."

I shook my head. "Lester's default setting is suggestive comments," I pointed out. "It's fine. I'm used to it. And as for-" I imitated the gesture he'd made. "I know you worry. If taking a look at me in better light is what eases your mind so you can sleep better at night, then I'm not going to begrudge you a few minutes check me over. Besides, if I'm a good patient, I get a lollipop, right?"

Bobby actually rolled his eyes at that but proceeded to reach into the cargo pocket of his pants and produce a pink, heart-shaped lollipop. I reached for it, but he snatched it out of reach, tucking it behind his ear. "Nuh uh," he chided. "Medical exam first." I huffed, but didn't protest as he reached for my hands, checking for grazes, bruising and splinters before moving on to my arms. He checked for joint mobility all over and got me to pull up my pants legs so he could check my knees before scrutinising my eyes and ears for good measure. The whole ordeal took less than the amount of time it took the dish washer to scrub a large pot that appeared to have marinara sauce splattered across every inch of it.

"Well?" I prompted as he took a step back.

"All done," he confirmed, wrapping his hands around my waist to help me off the table. "You're fine, just like you said you were." His hands lingered on my sides once my feet hit the ground and I wondered if he was just making sure I wasn't going to fall over or if there was something going on in his mind. All the thoughts from earlier surged through my mind and I worried anew about the messages that I was sending him by trying to ignore whatever this was, this odd fluttering in my chest when his hands were on me, when he took the time to make sure I was okay, when he was genuinely interested in my day.

Taking a deep breath, I reached up and grabbed the lollipop from behind his ear. "And was I good patient?" I asked holding it up between us as he finally released my waist.

He smiled that wide genuine smile that showed off all his teeth. "You're always a good patient, Steph," he assured me. And then, to my utter disbelief, he committed the ultimate betrayal: he snatched the lollipop out of my hand, shoving it back into his cargo pocket as he back up even more. "But sweets are for after dinner," he explained, picking up the pace as he continued to back away from me.

"Bobby!" I exclaimed, racing after him as he turned and slipped out of the kitchen. "You give that back!" I called bursting into the hall. "I earned that lollipop, Robert Brown! I didn't even flinch when your breath tickled my ear!"

A pair of women in the hall scooted to the side as I careened past them. "Are you okay?" they called after me. "Should I call the police?"

"I'm fine!" I assured them, skidding to a halt at the end of the hall when I came face to face with Bobby who seemed to be waiting for me to catch up tapping his pocket tauntingly. "My friend just took my lollipop!" I told them women. "Nothing to worry about."

"If you can get it off me," Bobby said, still grinning from ear to ear. "You can have it."

*o*

Lester frowned at us both as we slipped into the booth opposite him several minutes later. "What the hell happened to you two?" he questioned, looking from my messy hair to the scratches I'd left on Bobby's arm during our scrap in the hallway. We must have been a sight to behold, both of us breathing a little heavy as we stared back at him. Slowly, his frown cleared into what can only be described as a cat-who-ate-the-canary expression. "Bobby, you dog. Don't tell me you decided to take her to the bathroom after all," he said, reaching across the table to punch him in the arm. "Damn!"

"There was no bathroom involved," I assured Lester, crossing my arms over my chest with a pout. "Bobby wouldn't give me my lollipop."

His brows shot up, taking in our appearances with a more critical eye now. "So, you decided to wrestle?" he questioned.

I shrugged. "He said if I could get it off him I could have it," I explained. They all knew I'd stop at nothing for sugar, so it shouldn't really come as that much of a surprise that I would fight my best friend for a lollipop. Especially since it was a lollipop that was owed to me. "I had to give it a red hot try."

Lester cut his eyes to Bobby, looking slightly bewildered at this development, like he couldn't quite believe we would resort to fisticuffs in a restaurant, and I had to say, it wasn't something I'd ever pictured myself or Bobby engaging in either. "Seriously?" Lester asked his friend.

Now it was Bobby's turn to shrug. "She almost got it," he said, like that was the part Lester had been questioning.

He just shook his head, unable to speak for several moments. This was the second time we'd managed to render him silent in the course of one evening, and we hadn't even ordered yet. Maybe, it was the fact that Bobby's antics were the kind of thing that Lester would normally be instigating, rather than being the one shaking his head and being all judgemental. Personally, I thought it was great to see Bobby let his hair down for once. He was so serious most of the time that seeing him have a little fun was the best thing to boost my mood after the disappointment of losing yet another vehicle to that big junk yard in the sky.

I took the opportunity to pour myself a glass of water from the jug on the table and guzzled it down. Bobby nudged his own glass over as I was filling mine up a second time, so I poured some into his too just as a waitress arrived and set down a large pizza with the lot and a pitcher of beer.

"As you can see," Lester said, gesturing to the food between us. "I took the opportunity to order while the two of you were playing in the hall."

My stomach, as always, took it's cue to growl out it's appreciation of the presence of food that it was about to be given. Bobby and Lester both let out soft chuckles, not even surprised by my body's reaction anymore, as they reached to each grab a slice from the tray.

"Hold up," I said, looking from one to the other. "Aren't we waiting for Tank?"

"Tank's not coming, Beautiful," Lester said, not holding up at all. Bobby, I noticed, did not heed my words either. He was already chewing his first mouthful by the time I was questioning why Tank wasn't coming. "He's got the Mount Everest of paperwork piles sitting in his in-tray and needs to get through it before the monthly managers' meeting on Monday," Lester explained.

"Eat," Bobby urged, dragging the tray closer to me so I could reach without leaning half way across the table.

"How come he's got so much paperwork?" I asked, still not taking any pizza, which caused my stomach to growl in protest this time rather than anticipation. "I thought he'd finally hired an office manager."

Lester nodded, swallowing hard. "He did," he confirmed, following his mouthful of food down with a large gulp of beer. "Weenie little fella, lasted about three days, then he came face to face with Hector in the elevator on his way home and never came back the next day."

Doesn't sound like Tank is having much fun at the moment.