Hawke's POV

Holy Gods and all their blessings! I'd never been on a date like that! Well... I'd never really been on almost any dates. But still! Lunch was an appetizer. Dinner was the salad course. Right now? The victory dance prior to the meal itself! I walked slowly toward the '66 Shelby, a big goofy grin plastered all over my face. Passersby were looking at me like I was a nutcase. Maybe I am a nutcase! I wanted to throw up my hands, hoot, howl, and scream 'I LOVE YOU KIRKWALL! GOODNIGHT!' like a rockstar! I wanted to hug the whole world and squeeze until it burst into rainbows! I wanted to jump on the back of a unicorn and fly through the cosmos! Girls like me don't get to date women like her. Isabela freaking Rivaini. Even the name rolled off the tongue like liquid dark chocolate. It was exotic, sexy, and sophisticated, just like her. And I, a complete and udder dork-jock, was going back to her place! Bliss poured over me like a waterfall.

That intense eye-sex earlier was the straw that broke the metaphorical camel's back. I could feel her amber eyes sinking into me, and I wanted to pass out. My jeans were like a convection oven! But I was such a badass! I stopped feigning innocence and let my mind go wild. And oh, the look on her face! I could have come in a puddle right there. I don't know how I didn't. She went from predator to prey, and I was fucking loving it! I've never ever experienced something so animal. I wanted to tear off my shirt and go all Tarzan in front of the whole dining hall. And she would have let me. I could literally feel it. God, we were combustible. And earlier, when I went to get sodas, everyone flocked to me. 'Is that your girlfriend?', 'Who's your friend?', 'My name's Samantha. I noticed you come in, I'm part of blahblahblah club/society/team. Here's my card.', and even the unashamed 'Dude, that chick is fucking smoking, can I get her name and number from you?'.

I barely knew what to say. I told them she was my girlfriend so they would back down, but that didn't even slow the Indian guy. He tried to barter with me. That would have almost been fun, had he been discussing actual trade goods. He could have offered me his whole country, but it wouldn't be worth it. The way my heart fluttered as I watched her chat with my friends, the way her smile lit up the whole room, and the way she stood up the 'Prop that Don't Stop'? The latter actually made me a little wet. Sick, I know, but the body wants what the body wants, and I wanted her steadfast confidence all over me. So I called him a primitive misogynistic simpleton and trotted off. I did momentarily get distracted by pudding, admittedly, but then I rushed right back!

"Did you win a Nobel in the last 30 seconds?" Isabela smiled at me and I realized that we had stopped in front of a crosswalk. I blinked a few times, snapping out of my brain. She looked nearly as content as I was, but much more mature about it. She squeezed my arm, urging a reply.

I couldn't help the words that fell happily from my mouth. "That wouldn't even compare." I am so fucking cheesy! I nearly winced, but she wasn't laughing. She was smiling a mile wide as she reached for my hand. I felt a momentary spark as our fingers entwined and I could tell she felt it too.

Isabela leaned into me as we walked unhurried to the parking lot. "Do you treat every woman like a queen? Or am I the only one?"

I squinted at her momentarily. "What do you mean?"

"Huh." She tilted her head at me before getting lost in thought. She really doesn't know? How is that even possible?

"Did I say something wrong?" I gulped hard, searching her face for some evidence of emotion. Isabela looked as if she was picking her brain for some scrap of knowledge, but coming up empty.

"No… I just… You don't even realize you're spoiling me, do you?" She stopped and leaned up against the trunk of her 'concubine', her look more of curiosity than judgment.

I arched my eyebrow. "Isn't that kind of the idea?" I wasn't a relationship expert, but I had studied Dating 101 and 'be courteous' was a given.

Isabela shook her head, her thumb rubbing circles over my knuckles. "Well, yes. But waiters in tuxes are the only people who pull out a woman's chair these days, and only because that's their job. You just… do it on instinct. It's odd." She almost looked confused or surprised.

I took a half step forward, shielding her from a sudden brisk wind. "Does it make you uncomfortable?" I shivered lightly, somewhat from the slight chill and somewhat from fear of pushing her away.

"No! It's just a very rare quality. I never expected that sort of thing from a rugby player." Isabela smiled and pulled me against her, lending a little warmth. She gripped my biceps as her lips tickled my ear. "I though more Viking, less Knight of the Round Table." I smiled a bit at the comparison and wrapped my arms around her waist. Sir Hawke, the Champion of Kirkwall. Yeah, I can live with that. But a nagging little thought wormed its way out of my mouth.

"What kind of person do you usually go out with?"

"Easy on the eyes, heavy on the charm, possible kinky streak. Usually it's wham-bam thank you ma'am, not 'come meet my friends for dinner'." And I usually don't cuddle with them. But you… I just want to suffocate you with hugs. Kind of pathetic, really. But you feel so… safe. You're Linus' fucking blanket. She sighed against me.

"That's… not me." I breathed the words, holding her tighter against me. I don't do one-night stands. I wouldn't know how. I wouldn't want to even if I did.

Isabela recognized my discomfort and nuzzled my neck. "No, don't sound disappointed. The contrast is… well, I wish more people were like you." The world could do with fewer Luis's and many more Hawkes. Pressed together as we were, I could feel her heart thud. Something was bothering her and, as far as I could tell, it wasn't me.

"Don't your other dates treat you nicely?" I lifted her chin, looking directly into those gorgeous golden eyes.

She had a partial frown that made me want to curl into a ball and die. "Yes, to a point. But they always have an ulterior motive. They take off the suit of armor the second I flash them an inch of skin." She took a long blink and she was smiling again. Her usual sex-laden smirk was abandoned for a lighter, almost nervous smile. "You wouldn't even touch me without my permission. That's new for me." And exciting, and frightening, and wonderful.

I gave a lop-sided grin and pressed a single kiss to her lips. "You're new to me, too."

"Oh?" Isabela barely whispered the sound, probably unintentionally.

I chuckled and retrieved my hair tie, letting her dark locks loose. "Math-letes and Geography Bee winners don't date cheerleaders." I muttered as I rubbed my nose against her hair. It smelled amazing, like honeysuckle. It must have been some ridiculously expensive shampoo, because each strand was softer than silk.

"I was Captain of the swim team." I feel like a character in some hair porn. Not really my thing, usually. And yet here I am, totally turned on. 'Never buy into a cosmetics company' my ass.

"Still, nerds like me don't even get a second look from people like you." I shook my head slightly, brushing my lips against her temple. I wasn't going to waste any time by not touching her and her strong pulse was telling me not to stop.

"'People like me?'" Isabela's breath was warm against my neck, and I closed my eyes. I shut out the rest of the world and drowned in the moment.

"Beautiful, popular, interesting, worldly, confident, fun. Perfect." I kissed her for each word, tattooing the description across her cheek, to her jaw, and back up to her mouth. Another spark shot through us as my lips found hers and our hearts skipped a beat. It was either the world's slowest kiss, or time had actually frozen when Isabela moaned. Holy shit, she could sweet talk the Queen out of her Corgis! It was everything I ever wanted: sexual, sensual, erotic, and mind-blowing in its intensity. My eyes were rolling back behind my closed eyelids. My stomach churned and my hormones burst into overdrive, but I slid my mouth away.

Love me until I forget... She let out a long sigh and clawed my upper arms. "No one is perfect, Hawke." Her voice was higher than usual. I wanted to live in that moment forever; focused, blissful and irreverently aroused.

"Says the theory, but I can't wait to submit my case-study." I dove back in, unable to resist the temptation of her mouth any longer. I held her so tight that I thought our atoms might start bonding. This is not the time to joke about 'Com-pounding'. I smiled at my own pun and licked her upper lip, finally opening my eyes to the desire written all over her face. Her honey eyes were dilated, her dusky cheeks were flushed, and her nostrils practically flaring.

Oh, just take me already! Isabela broke the passionate make-out session to gasp for air. "There's no point in arguing with you, is there?" Her deep amber eyes promised war, but her smile swore a compromise.

I was obviously having a powerful effect on her senses and I felt a little cocky. My hands blazed a trail down to her hips and I nipped the very edge of her bottom lip. "My freshman year was split between rugby and debate team. I still participate in each as much as I can. So no, you don't stand a chance against me." I pushed my hand under the suit jacket and untucked her tank top. You can say that again! Her ribs were blistering hot and I had to stop myself from shuttering. I did not, however, stop myself from pressing my thigh between her legs. The combination of soft skin under my hands and a dull throb through layers of fabric was amazing. I didn't even realize that we were staring at each other the entire time. A cold breeze blew through, causing Isabela to shiver, then groan. The unintentional movement had pushed her tighter against my leg.

Breathe, breathe, breathe. "You geniuses must give great orgasms."

"Can't say I have much experience in that area." My grin faltered for a moment before she planted a wet kiss on my lips.

"I am very experienced and you are definitely first in your class." She unbuttoned my borrowed jacket and dragged my hands up to cup her chest. Isabela flashed a devilish smile before digging her nails into the back of my neck and leading a Patton-esque assault on my mouth. My groin was already uncomfortable, but the contrast of her lacy white bra covering her soft and perfectly sculpted breasts boosted the sensation to somewhat painful. I demand extra credit!

I ripped my lips away, trying to beat her at her own game. "Are you seducing me, Ms. Rivaini?" I growled from somewhere deep in my gut and circled my thumbs over her nipples. Her eyes were barely half-open and she rocked her hips into my leg.

"God, yes." Isabela moaned loud and tried to pull my head back down to kiss her, that perfect mouth already primed and ready.

I stiffened my neck, not allowing any further movement. "Didn't you tell me that sex on your Shelby was unacceptable behavior?" I had a mischievous smirk that would have given the Grinch a run for his money and I dragged my fingers along her ribs to rest them against her hips. Proud of her hastened breathing, I took a step back, leaving her at arm's length.

"Damn your impeccable memory." Isabela groaned as she regained her land-legs. Her clothes were a mess, her lipstick was mismanaged, and her cleavage held small droplets of sweat. It was the hottest thing I had ever seen, let alone accomplished. Like a work of art. She smoothed back her hair and dug the car keys out of her purse. "Hop in, Casanova." She purred. She was behind the wheel in a flash and I raced into the passenger seat as the car came to life, revving in tune to its owner. She linked her phone to the audio deck and we took to the streets.

I wasn't sure whether to laugh, cry, or curse when 'Sex on Fire' came through the speakers, but I chose laughter. "No, no, no. You're not going to make this drive any longer than it needs to be." I asserted.

"Aw, but that's my favorite song. And you, your sex is on fire… Consumed with words to transpire…" Shit, she can sing too. BREATHE! Isabela ran a finger over my jaw and I shuttered before skipping through the songs. Dirty Dancer, Keep Me High, Backseat, Money Maker…

"Haven't you heard the 'my car, my music' rule?" She asked sarcastically. I ignored her and continued. Down on Me, Pony, End of the Night, Mrs. Officer…

"Haven't you read your Eighth Amendment? No cruel and unusual punishment." I paused everything and went searching for something that wouldn't arouse me any further. As if that were possible.

She chuckled and shifted gears. "My pre-game playlist is not a form of punishment."

I began searching through her music library, utterly fascinated by what I was finding. "Ooo, Ms. Rivaini… You are an enigma. Metallica, Sublime, Alice in Chains, Mos Def, Five Finger Death Punch… Hello!" That's when I found something that didn't seem to belong. Ram Jam's Black Betty began thumping the entire vehicle. The look on her face was priceless as she began to tap her hand against the steering wheel. Before long, I was breaking into the vocals. "Whoa Black Betty bam-a-lam, whoa Black Betty bam-a-lam. She really gets me high bam-a-lam, you know that's no lie bam-a-lam…" Isabela laughed, realizing how deep my voice could get and began to sing along in her higher tone.

"She's so rock steady bam-a-lam, and she's always ready bam-a-lam…" She shot me a sideways look and I picked back up.

"Whoa Black Betty bam-a-lam, Whoa Black Betty bam-a-lam…" And when the instrumental picked up, she turned the steering wheel into a drum set while I rocked the air guitar. I could feel Isabela looking over at me, my head banging, my feet tapping, and my eyes closed. I like her. I like her a lot. She allowed me to shamelessly serenade her with the rest of the song. When Poison's Talk Dirty to Me came on next, she took lead vocals while I did backup and continued my air guitar. This is what awesome looks like. Singing along to classic rock with your new girlfriend.

"Cause baby we'll be, At the drive-in, In the old man's ford, Behind the bushes, Till I'm screamin' for more. Down the basement, Lock the cellar door, And baby, Talk dirty to me." Her smile was brighter than the sun as we pulled behind a building. I had no idea where we were, but I didn't care. Before she could kill the ignition, I was holding her face and kissing her sloppily. She was surprised and I pulled away before she could catch up.

"What was that?" Isabela blinked at me.

I was grinning from ear to ear and my heart was thumping like the Energizer bunny. "That was a congratulatory kiss."

She arched an eyebrow. "Congratulations for what?"

"I don't rock out with just anybody. You've officially reached girlfriend status." I poked her lip piercing and she caught on. Her pupils dilated in shock and her body temporarily tensed.

She's serious… I- this is the part where I let her off easy and casually run the other way… But- She's not a crazy stalker, she's not a handsy old man, she's not some entitled prince… She's just Hawke, and she wants to be with me. And, well, shit, I can't find a reason to complain about that! "Whipping out the 'g' word after one date, are we?" Isabela was being sarcastic, I could tell. She couldn't hide her thousand watt smile from me.

"We've been on two dates. Lunch and dinner." I emphasized each with a quick peck to the lips.

"I don't usually have relationships with people without sleeping with them first." Her devilish smile erupted as she wrapped her hand around my neck, drawing me in.

I put a finger to her lips, resolute to the task at hand. "And I don't usually allow gorgeous women to seduce me without some semblance of a social contract."

She sighed and sat back in her seat. "You've peaked my interest. Are their terms to your agreement?"

I rubbed my chin thoughtfully. "Hmm. 1. Monogamy. 2. If an opportunity for karaoke arises, you are bound to be my other half for duets. 3. Cell phones on vibrate during dates." I nodded my head, out of ideas.

Isabela shook her head and chuckled. "And here I thought you were going to get all 'a dozen roses once a month' and 'come to every one of my rugby games, dressed completely in my colors'." She rolled her eyes at the latter.

I just shrugged. "You can do those if you want, but I'm not into flowers. Plus, you're an independent woman; I'm not here to tie you down. I just want to spend time with you when I can and treat you properly, not just be a one-night stand. I would almost leave monogamy out of the contract if the idea of someone else touching you didn't make me want to vomit and/or break something."

She tilted her head and crossed her arms over her chest. "For one thing, Hawke, you can't say 'tie me down' without actually referring to bondage. It's just not fair otherwise." I blushed a bit at the thought. "And… if we're going to have a running thing here, I get to kiss you whenever I want, wherever I want; because the idea of someone else touching you also makes me ill. Oh, and if I get really, really drunk, you're required to hold back my hair while I puke." Her sideways 'clearly satisfied' smirk and unwavering self-assurance was beaming.

I nodded diplomatically and unlatched my seatbelt. "I find your terms acceptable." God, she's amazing!

That was both casual and efficient. 'Girlfriend'… You know, it might not be so bad. "As do I." She held out her hand and I shook it professionally.

"A pleasure doing business with you, Isabela." I laughed a bit. I just negotiated a hot girlfriend. U.N. here I come!

Smug little pup. She joined in on my laughter as she turned the key and climbed out of the car. "Save the pleasing until we get up to my apartment." I stepped out and took a look around. We weren't far from campus and on a steep hill. I had seen the street before, but I couldn't quite place it. I walked over to her and offered my arm, which she happily took. We walked around to the front of the building. A large wooden sign read 'The Hanged Man'. We were on a street consisting mostly of bars and tattoo shops, this being the former. I had seen it many a time while taking the bus to downtown, but never really paid it any mind until now.

"You live above a bar?" I turned my head to her and she shrugged.

"It's a bit of a dive, but I like the ambiance of alcohol and depravity. Plus, an old friend owns it. He lives on the third floor." She pointed up the brick wall to a window with the light on. "I'm on the second." She led me to the door and the smell that erupted could be described only as 'eww'. Stale alcohol, sweat, and general body order. It was a bar, much like any other. There were tables full of bikers, drunken jocks, a few hopeless looking guys drowning their sorrows, and a single waitress that wandered from group to group. On the right wall was a menagerie of photos in frames. Like a collage of local patrons. All heads turned to look at us and it got a lot quieter. A single jukebox could be heard playing Motorhead. Impervious, my host led me directly to the bar, where we were greeted by a worn-down looking blonde man with premature wrinkles, a scruffy face, and a permanent scowl.

"Evenin' Isabela." The man had a British accent, which seemed very out of place in a low-town tavern like this.

My new girlfriend just smiled at him. "Good evening, Corff."

He looked at me, his face still blank. "You bringin' your friend in 'ere for a drink? Looks a bit underage." He scolded her.

"That hasn't stopped you before. But no. I just wanted to check on you before we headed up to my apartment." She looked around before wandering off and I leaned up against the bar.

Corff chuckled once she turned her back and actually grew a slight grin. "What's your name, sweetheart? Got ta put somethin' on your headstone." He cleaned a mug while he talked about my impending doom.

"Cassandra Hawke?" I said awkwardly. Are all bartenders this dreary?

He looked around suspiciously before leaning forward to talk to me. "I'll have you know that Isabela does not bring just anyone up those stairs. That means one of two things. She really likes you and is about ta blow your mind. Or she wants you dead and is about ta blow your brains out." He nodded his head and stepped back, filling an order for someone down the bar.

"What happened to the last person she brought up there?" I asked politely, figuring he would stay up-to-date on that sort of thing.

He gave a hearty 'ha-ha' and wiped down the wooden counter. "Last guy to enter 'er apartment was a plumber, 'bout six months ago. Pretty sure 'e made it out alive."

I nodded in understanding as I saw Isabela returning from the corner of my eye. "I'll let you know how it goes." I had never gulped so hard in my life.