Sorry I didn't quite get this done in time for April Fool's Day (guess that makes me the fool!)

The way I wrote this, it seems to take place after Book 3 but before Book 4? I don't know if the timeline works for that (what month does book 4 take place in? does April fit in before then?) but if it doesn't, I'll just replace every time Donovan refers to Jon as 'boyfriend' with 'fiance'.

Donovan's Fiendishly Foolish April Antics

Donovan

I faced a bit of a quandary as I arrived at Psy's front door with a takeaway coffee cup in each hand.

My boyfriend was fuelled by caffeine and sugar - preferably in the form of caffeine loaded with sugar. I had learned very quickly that it took Jon a while to emerge from dream fog in the morning, but having a cup o' joe waiting for him when he rolled out of bed helped clear the clinging vestiges of sleep away.

Normally I would make him his first cup when I got back home from my morning run, then give him a second cup either in a travel cup to go, or make it on the machine in the break room when we got to the office.

This morning, Jon had requested I buy us coffees. I didn't mind, as it was easier for me to do the coffee run. I didn't have to dodge ordering kiosks, eftpos machines and cranky caffeine-deprived people on cell phones like he did. While he took the car in to work and got a head start on the paperwork, I could stroll to the Starbucks a few blocks from our place, pick up drinks for us both, then walk the rest of the way to work.

It was easy exercise compared to my daily morning run. And I never begrudged a request from Jon, if it meant a chance to take care of him. In fact, I relished it. I had made it clear to Jon early in our relationship that doing things for him was not an imposition, on the contrary I wanted to feel needed by him. He had gotten better about asking me to do things for him, things he either genuinely needed help with or just lessened the stress a bit on his end.

Him asking me to get coffee, and me treating him to his favourite beverage, was just another way that we said 'I care about you, I trust you' to each other without words. It was a small thing, but given what a wide independent streak Jon had, it thrilled me no end that he felt secure enough in our relationship to let himself depend on me.

I realized that I had completed my mission with less than optimum results as I stood outside the office with both hands full and none spare for the door handle. I should have grabbed one of those cardboard drink holders.

Thankfully, Marcy noticed my predicament and popped the door open for me. She could do it without leaving her place at the reception desk.

Soon after I first joined Psy, I had requested a meeting with Jim and sounded him out about upping the office's security system. He had hired me to keep Jon safe, a duty I extended to include everyone else on the premises. After Jim had called me in one night to take care of someone suspiciously loitering in the parking lot - someone I now suspected had been Sho's ex stalking him, long before Garrett and I had hauled his ass in for violating his restraining order - it was clear to me that the measures previously in place could be improved upon.

I was thankful that Jim took my concerns seriously and didn't balk at spending company money on upgrades which we agreed were very much necessary. After a suspect in one of our cases tried to corner Jon in the parking lot with a baseball bat, those upgrades became a high priority. Soon afterward we wrapped up our case in Clarksville, Jim, Garrett, Sho and myself had held a conference to brainstorm ideas and discuss options.

The automatic security door was Sho's work, though it was something we'd all had in mind but hadn't been sure how to implement. Sho, tech wizard that he was, had put it together in a few hours once he had ordered in the necessary parts. The door mechanism, safely surrounded by EMP shielding so Jon could still pass through it without fear of blowing out the locks, could be securely shut against intruders and the local authorities notified by silent alarm with the push of a single button. The lockdown could also be initiated from portable button fobs that Jim and Sho both carried and kept on their desks while they were in the office; I would have liked for Jon to have his own button, but since that was impossible, and Jim and Sho had offices closest to egress points, this setup was the next best thing. It also meant that the door could now be opened remotely by Marcy without her having to leave her station, making the main entrance a lot more accessible for folks with disabilities.

This was why Sho's salary was higher than mine. He was an expert at what he did; that door was a masterpiece in wiring and bulletproof glass.

"Thanks Marcy," I said as I came inside. I put one of my coffees down on the edge of the reception desk so I could pick up the stack of papers she handed me.

"I always welcome a handsome man bearing coffee," Marcy winked at me.

She had been fearful of me when I first started working here, and I was thankful that we had moved past that to become good friends. Jon was really the one to thank for that; Marcy had since revealed to me that after I had left on my first day, he had purposefully put some words of reassurance in her ear, setting her straight about any 'threat' I posed. I knew I looked intimidating, couldn't do anything to help it, but having a certified psychic vet me had worked wonders on my social life (and that was ignoring the fact that said psychic was my boyfriend).

Just one of the many reasons why I loved that man. I strove every day to live up to the apparently exceptional man he saw when he looked at me.

"I only wish one of those was for me," Marcy added, eying the cup in front of her wistfully.

I tucked the papers under my arm and picked up Jon's coffee again just in case she attempted to swipe it, not that I thought she would. It was common knowledge what a bear the normally sweet-as-honey Jon could be when he wasn't properly caffeinated.

"Sorry. Next time I stop by Starbucks on the way in I'll send you a text, if you want me to grab one for you just tell me your order."

"You are the best!" Marcy leaned over the desk to pat me on the shoulder, which was a bit of a reach up for her. "I often regret that Jon snapped you up first."

That made me chuckle. I chuckled again when I spotted the calendar on Marcy's desk and noticed someone had stuck googly eyes on the number '1' that was displayed beneath 'April' for today's date. "It's going to be that sort of day is it?" I asked, gesturing towards it with the coffee in my right hand.

She gave me a knowing smirk. Usually Marcy was all sweetness and light, but apparently April Fool's Day brought out a hitherto-unknown deviant side in her. "It is indeed. Especially now Garrett is working here."

I groaned, my best friend's past pranks painfully vivid in my mind; I had been the butt of many of them. "He's going to outdo himself now he has an office full of friends and a new boyfriend to impress, I just know it."

Marcy winced in sympathy. "At least it will be over in an hour or so. You got the warning, right?"

"Yeah, I did. I just hope whatever you have planned is not-"

I was cut off by a yell coming from a nearby office. My office, and the voice that yelped in alarm was a very familiar one.

I whirled away from the desk and jogged toward mine and Jon's shared office. I didn't dump our coffees on the floor of the reception area and flat out sprint while drawing my sidearm because I had been forewarned, and now I was grateful that I had been. I didn't think anything was seriously wrong, but it was my automatic instinct to go to Jon when he was in distress. If I hadn't known something was in the works beforehand, I might have overreacted; and since I was trained to react instinctively to life-or-death situations, that might not have gone too well.

I stopped in the doorway of our office. My boyfriend was no longer yelling, staring at something on his desk with his hands on his hips and a chagrined expression on his face.

"Everything alright, babe?" I asked. From what I read of his body language, he looked merely annoyed, not upset, so I could relax an iota.

"I'm fine," Jon said on a huff, "except they got me."

He handed me the object that was lying on his desk. It had been sitting askew atop an open manila folder filled with scattered papers, as if Jon had found it inside the file and thrown it down suddenly. I put my coffee on my own desk so I could take it from him. I realized why he had hastily dropped it when I saw what it was.

It was a compact disc.

"Uh… Jon?" I asked uncertainly.

He heaved another sigh. "It's really fine, hon. I thought I had ruined evidence, but it was just a prank."

He handed the disc over to me. The fact he dared touch it, even in a plastic case, proved that it wasn't anything consequential. Taking it from him, I examined it, noticing that someone had written on it in marker:

Jon's Party Playlist
(sounds like static)

I couldn't help but laugh a bit. Our co-workers had really hit right on Jon's weakness with their prank. It was underhanded, but ingenious, and admittedly kind of funny.

I evidently wasn't the only one who thought so. Marcy, Sharon and Tyson appeared in the doorway, laughing far harder than I had.

"What's the matter, Jon?" Tyson asked around a guffaw. "Don't you like this remix?"

He and the two women on either side of him broke up again, clutching their sides with laughter and slapping each other on the back. Oh yes, this trio of laughing hyenas were very satisfied with their handiwork.

"Yeah yeah, yuk it up," Jon muttered, though I could see he was fighting to hide a smile despite himself. "I'll have my revenge soon enough. Now shoo, go drink your coffee like normal people. I don't need hecklers watching from the peanut gallery while I sign invoices."

The jokesters dispersed, still snickering to themselves.

I went to Jon, putting the disc and his coffee on his desk, then snugging myself against his back and wrapping my arms around him from behind.

"You okay, Jon?" I asked, nuzzling against his favourite spot near the nape of his neck.

Even if it had been just a joke, he could be touchy about his involuntary effect on electronics, and I wasn't sure how he felt about having his weakness shoved - literally - under his nose. Especially since I now knew that a compact disc had starred in his first disastrous case at Clarksville. I had seen firsthand how traumatic working with the hostile local PD had been, and the case I had been on had actually gone better than the previous one, hard though that was to believe.

"Yeah, I'm fine." The way my boyfriend relaxed against me assured me that he really was alright. "They always pull some stunt like that on April Fool's, so I was somewhat prepared. I just wasn't expecting it to happen before I even had my coffee."

"It's a good thing it was before coffee, in a way," I pointed out. "At least you didn't jump and spill your drink on actual evidence."

"True." Jon leaned forward in my embrace, breaking contact just enough to reach the coffee cup on his desk, then settled back against me again once he'd snagged it. "Thanks for getting coffee today, babe. I really appreciate it."

The way he said it seemed to contain some significance I wasn't privy to. I was just about to ask what he meant, when we were interrupted again.

Sharon, Marcy and Tyson were back in our doorway. There was no trace of mirth about them now. In fact, they looked quite put out, and they were giving my boyfriend some major stink eye.

"You evil, evil man," Sharon said. Her comment was so filled with venom, I had to quash my instinct to protectively put myself between her and Jon. Just what had he done?

In response, Jon chuckled deviously. The seductive rumble, coupled with the vibrations of it against my sternum, perked up my libido.

"What's wrong?" Jon asked. "I thought you were having coffee."

"We would be having coffee," Marcy retorted, "if we knew whether this monstrosity had really been loaded into the machine. Please tell me you didn't actually stoop so low."

I had no idea what she was talking about, until I realized Tyson was holding a large canister of coffee, the type of filter grind we usually used in the break room coffee machine.

The label on it very clearly said 'Decaf'.

I snickered against Jon's shoulder, feeling him likewise shake with suppressed laughter. Sharon was right - that was downright evil!

"You didn't really, did you?!" Tyson demanded, using all the interrogation skills he had as a former cop. That show of temper would likely make hardened criminals quail, but Jon just grinned unrepentently back at him. "The fact you can't touch electronics aside, please tell me you didn't really load the coffee machine full of decaf coffee?!"

"Oh, you'd like to know, would you?" Jon's tone of voice was all smoothness and sweetness, all of it false. "If only there was someone in this office who could tell whether people are lying. Oh wait, there is someone who can do that." He mockingly pointed a finger at himself, with the hand that wasn't clutching his Starbucks coffee. "Unfortunately, he was the victim of a cruel gag, so he's not feeling particularly charitable at the moment. He'd much rather keep you guessing, as a lesson to you all on what might happen to you as comeuppance if you prey upon somebody's weakness."

I could practically hear Tyson grinding his teeth, and Sharon was still glaring daggers at him. Marcy leaned around them both, eyes wide enough to make her resemble a kicked puppy, apparently deciding guilt tactics might be more effective. "Please, Jon. You're not a malicious person, you're a really nice guy. You wouldn't really mess with a person's coffee, would you? Come on, you know our silly little prank was in jest. You won't hold a grudge, will you? Won't you please tell us whether it's really decaf or not?"

Jon's only reply was to smirk like a supervillain and take a long savouring sip of his coffee, smacking his lips in satisfaction.

Damn, that was pretty darn hot.

Seeing that Jon wasn't about to cave, our co-workers stormed back out again, tossing a few more recriminations over their shoulders as they grumbled their way towards the break room.

I leaned in close enough to ask in a low voice, quiet so no one lingering out in the hallway could overhear: "You didn't really fill the coffee machine with decaf, did you?" He was capable of it, if he wore his EMP gloves. But surely he wouldn't go that far. Our colleagues would not be forgiving if he accidentally killed the coffee machine while pulling his prank.

"Of course I didn't," he assured me, still smug as a cat with a grande-sized cup of cream. "I just put the container of decaf coffee next to the machine, and let them draw their own conclusions. Remind me to take my claw back home later, I left it leaning against the wall outside the break room."

I hadn't even noticed it was missing from the hook in the kitchen back home, nor had I noticed the can of decaf coffee in the house or his car. He'd pulled this one over on me as well as everyone else, though at least he had told me to get myself a coffee. I chuckled and gave him an affectionate squeeze. "Sharon was right, you are evil."

"You say that as if you like it," he purred, turning his head so the words tickled where his breath wafted against my collarbone.

Oh yes, I did like that. He didn't need to be psychic to tell that I did. He knew me well enough to know what it did to me when he got all dominant and took control, though getting aroused by it in a context outside the bedroom was a new one.

That, and he could likely feel my semi pressing against his ass through my jeans and his.

I willed my libido down. We had a whole work day ahead of us. I had a lot to get through before I could get him home and in our bed. "You know I like it. I find this devious streak of yours very attractive."

"I wonder if you'll like it as much if it's turned against you?" he asked, looking up at me with a wicked gaze that promised all sorts of fun things in our near future.

"I'm sure I'll enjoy any punishment you inflict upon me. Just let me know what I need to do to deserve it." I couldn't resist gently lipping his earlobe, sending a delicious full-body shudder through him.

"You got me coffee. That was more than enough to earn you some rewards - or punishments, however you want to look at them - later tonight."

Boy oh boy, it looked like I was going to get some handcuffed sex this evening.

I picked up my coffee from my desk - I was able to reach it without letting go of my one-armed embrace round him - and tapped my cup against his, sealing his offer with a toast. "I'll hold you to that."

"I'll hold you alright," he promised, voice seductive and eyes gone dark.

Hot damn, I really did love it when he held me down and had his way with me. Considering he weighed about a third of my body weight and I could easily throw him off, I very willingly put myself at his mercy.

Work first. I reminded myself I should mentally be in the office, not the gutter.

Finally letting him go with one last squeeze, I picked up the top sheet of paper in the stack I had picked up from Marcy. It was a handwritten note from Sho. It didn't seem to be anything urgent, so I started sorting through the rest of the stack. Nothing there demanded my full attention, so I talked to Jon as I divided the pile between my inbox and my trashcan.

"You guys take April Fool's Day pretty seriously round here."

Jon chuckled darkly; I had to remind my dick to settle down, it would be a while before he could deliver on his promises. "Oh yes, we're a bunch of pranksters. That's why Carol always comes in late on April 1st. One year, someone snuck some fancy soaps shaped like crystals into the meditation room, ruined her first reading of the day."

I didn't know whether to be impressed by the ingeniousness of that prank, or incensed on Carol's behalf. "Damn."

"It was okay, she could start the reading over, and she made sure to delete the first recording. But she didn't appreciate the joke, as she takes her profession very seriously, and it messed up her work schedule for the rest of the day."

I knew that Carol had a limit on the number of readings she could do in one day - Jon did too, but he regularly blew right past it, incurable workaholic that he was - so I could well imagine how an ill-timed prank might throw her off.

"The incident caused Carol to declare she wouldn't set foot in the office on April 1st until it was guaranteed the coast was clear. It also caused Jim to issue two edicts regarding April Fool's Day: 1) pranks cannot under any circumstances interfere with cases, and 2) all shenanigans must be over with by 10am sharp, no exceptions."

"Wow. It must've been serious if Jim was laying down the law like that." Jim was a pretty lenient boss; but since any undue mischief had the potential to interfere with the business he had built from the ground up, I could understand why he would set restrictions. Especially with Garrett around now, I really hoped someone had read him the rules. Hey, speaking of 'reading'… "Wait, Mr. Lie-Detector, you say 'someone' switched out Carol's crystals. You must have been able to spot who the culprit was straight off."

Jon batted his eyelashes at me in a most beguiling way. "I'm not a tattle-tale."

I snorted at his antics. That was a standard response from Jon. He claimed impartiality, but I was pretty sure part of him couldn't resist messing with people a little. "Garrett was right, you can be scary when you want to be."

"You'd think that would buy me immunity," Jon muttered, shooting the disc on his desk yet another disgruntled look. With a growl of utter disgust that sounded uncannily like the sound our cats made when I was a little bit late feeding them, he swept it off the desk into the waiting trash can. "I already know the answer to this, but I take it that Garrett is a master prankster?"

I laughed at what a gross understatement that was. "Oh yes, he's pulled off more doozies than I can count. Have you seen the episode of The Simpsons where Bart throws his lucky red hat in the wash and turns all Homer's white shirts pink?"

Jon had evidently seen the episode in question, because he cottoned on to what I meant immediately. "Oh he didn't!"

"Yes, he did. I think I mentioned that Garrett and I got to know each other because we both stood up to the resident homophobe when we were in the army together. Garrett decided to get back at him by sneaking a red bandana into the guy's laundry. All his very masculine white Y-fronts ended up a lovely shade of pink. All the other guys were so fed up with that guy's homophobic bull shit, and eager to get back at an unrepentant bully. They all gave him heaps about his 'pretty pink bikini briefs' in the locker room every chance they got."

"That's a good one!" Jon took a meditative sip of his coffee, then added consideringly, "though now I'm tempted to leave the office before Garrett strikes."

"Far as I know, he isn't in yet. What do you think he has planned?"

"Not a clue. Though it would explain why he's been sparking with mischief at odd moments for at least the past two weeks."

I harrumphed in response. I had no doubt that Garrett had planned something epic, and if I wasn't the direct target, I would likely get caught in the fallout. I'd need to keep my wits about me til the clock struck ten.

Since there wasn't anything important among internal mail - looked like a quiet day for us, for better or worse, since it would have likely been safer to keep clear of the office like Carol was doing, but we had no cases to send us out - I returned to the note. "This is from Sho," I held it up for Jon to see, "says he ordered me a new EMP-shielded wallet. I'll just go grab it." According to Sho, it would protect my credit card. I now tried to carry cash on me instead, but it would be good to be able to carry my card as well just in case, and not have to shove it in the cramped case I already kept my phone in.

Jon nodded in response, distracted by the stack of invoices he was working through. Sho had left instructions to say I should be the one to get the case from the supply cupboard, as he kept some USB sticks and other bits in there for general office use and it was better if Jon didn't go rummaging through it. I didn't need to say all that to him, though.

"Donovan," my boyfriend called me back just as I was about to duck out the door. Jon hesitated a moment, then said: "Maybe you should leave your gun in the safe. At least until ten o'clock."

I was about to open my mouth to say occupational hazard dictated I always be armed on the job, but I stopped and reconsidered. Whatever prank Garrett had planned, it would likely be designed to surprise or scare me. Whatever it was, perhaps it would be best for everyone's sakes if I couldn't automatically shoot at it in response. Jim wouldn't be impressed if he arrived at the office to find bullet holes in the wall.

"That's probably a good idea." I removed my holster from my belt and stowed it securely in the gun safe beneath my desk. Jon was still armed even if I wasn't, and surely nothing life-endangering would happen between now and ten.

Yeah, better to not even think that, in case I unwittingly thought some catastrophe into reality.

Already on edge over Garrett's impending prank-attack, I felt extra exposed without the gun on me. But the trip down the hall to the supply closet seemed safe enough.

Tyson and Marcy glared at me through the break room door when I passed it, as if I were an accomplice in Jon's prank.

I shrugged back at them. I was an innocent bystander in this. My only crime was finding my boyfriend's mischievousness hot as hell, and as far as I was concerned, that was just me doing justice to his sexiness.

I glanced at my watch. It was after half-past nine. Looked like Garrett wasn't even in yet, since I hadn't seen his truck in the lot and the lights in Sho's office were still turned off. Surely he had something planned? There was no way he would let a legitimate opportunity to play a prank go by without taking advantage of it. Was he leaving it til the last minute to strike, thinking he'd lull me into a state of false security as the clock ticked down, then catch me unawares? That didn't seem his style, and he should know me better than that by now, I wasn't one t-

I opened the door to the supply closet.

A ghost swooped out from behind the closed door, diving straight for my head.

To my dying breath, I will deny that the sound I made in any way resembled a scream higher in pitch than suited a man of my size.

A few minutes later, I was standing in the doorway of Sharon's office, phone already in hand.

She looked up from whatever she was typing on her computer's screen, caught sight of me, and instantly straightened in her chair. My face must have said it all, because without me having to say a word, she asked: "What did Garrett do? I thought I heard-"

"Can I use the meditation room?" I interrupted. It wasn't a question, but I made it sound like one anyway.

"Yes…?" she replied cautiously.

"The room is soundproofed, right?"

"Yes…"

I knew that - Sharon herself had talked me through the room's features when she had instructed me on the care Jon needed after an upper-level reading - but I thought it prudent to double-check. I didn't particularly want to scare anyone who didn't rightfully deserve it. Everyone had already put up with me yelling in surprise - and yes, in fear, because Garrett knew my worst weaknesses and had no qualms about exploiting them, unscrupulous dick that he was.

"Good. Give me a few minutes, tell everyone else to steer clear of the room. This won't take long."

She wisely stayed quiet as I stormed down the hallway towards the meditation room in the back. As I passed it, I gave the dummy 'ghost' - a dime-store skeleton wrapped in a pillow case 'shroud' - another punch, making it bob on its string. The hit was in no way satisfying, as it was made of solid rubber and smacking it did next to no damage. I wouldn't feel better until I'd gotten even with the culprit behind that juvenile joke.

And I knew just how to strike at him.

Once the door to the meditation room was securely closed behind me, I pulled up Garrett's number on my phone and let it dial.

He picked up on the second ring. Damn punk was lying in wait for this.

Oh, how swiftly I would make him regret it.

"Hi Don," he sing-songed down the phone at me. Oh, he was chipper alright. Not for much longer. "How is your day-"

I didn't let him get any further than that. I took a deep breath, then let rip.

"PRIVATE WILSON, THIS IS BOOTCAMP NOT A RESORT VACATION! OUT O' YOUR BUNK AND FALL IN ON THE DOUBLE, OR YOU WILL BE OUT OF THE ARMY AND OUT ON YOUR ASS BEFORE YOU CAN WIPE THE CRUSTED SLEEP FROM YOUR EYEBALLS!"

The clock said that it was 10:07.

Carol was safely tucked away in the meditation room, conducting her first reading for the day. Jim was in his office with the door shut, letting the rest of us sort ourselves out.

As far as I was concerned, we were well sorted.

Garrett sat in a chair at the break room table, glowering at me over the rim of his Starbucks cup.

Marcy was in a chair on the opposite side of the table, sipping from a similar cup, looking back and forth between up like we were players on the court at Wimbledon. Turned out she had called on Garrett and Sho to pick up coffee for everyone after Jon's prank had sabotaged their daily brew. I was sure the coffee machine would be back in working order - filled with regular coffee, as it had always been - by tomorrow. Everything would be well and truly back to normal once today was over.

For me, though, revenge would remain sweet for quite some time.

"Are you sure you're not carrying around our old drill sergeant in one of your cargo pockets?" Garrett groused. He was talking slightly louder than usual.

"I just perfected my imitation of him," I returned calmly. "I heard him bawling you out often enough to study it and get it down pat."

"I'm pretty sure you overdid it on the volume." Garrett made a show of shaking his head and wincing. "My ear is still ringing."

"Serves you right."

Sho stuck his head round the doorway. "Did you really have to get Jon to kill my camera?" he asked.

He didn't sound accusatory, so he must have anticipated that little consequence. Since he had collaborated with Garrett on his little ghost-on-a-string prank - the note telling me to go to the supply closet was definitely in his handwriting, the camera perched on a shelf of the closet undoubtedly his handiwork - I felt no remorse for letting my boyfriend fry his gadget. I thought I recognized the camera type: I was pretty sure they'd had the same one at the rehab center more than a year ago, though I hadn't really noticed, as I had avoided using the camera whenever I used the center's computer to Skype-call my family. It must have been an outdated model that Sho had given to Garrett as a sacrifice, knowing it would likely fall victim to Jon.

"Jon was simply coming to check on me," I informed Sho. "Wasn't his fault there was a camera pointed at the door opening, right where he put his hand when he leaned in to examine the 'ghost'. He was just doing his duty as a psychic with the ability to see spirits."

If looks could kill, Garrett would have turned me into a spirit by now. "Should have known having a psychic on your side would tip things in your favour," he grumbled.

"I was just returning the favour. You target my Achilles heel, Wilson, you can expect to get an equally well-aimed kick to your shin."

"I think my shin has tinnitus," Garrett muttered, rubbing the ear he must have had his phone held up to.

"I can always switch to sign language." So saying, I flipped him the bird, then got up and returned to my office.

I didn't need to look to know he was likewise giving my back the middle-finger-salute.

Jon grinned up at me as I came through the door. "Done gloating over your victory?"

I sank into my executive chair, which barely squeaked when I put my full weight on it. Marcy had picked out a good one.

"Justice was served," I said haughtily, trying to look as prim and self-righteous as possible. Given the way Jon snickered, he likely saw from my aura that I was cackling and rubbing my hands together inside. "Thanks for being on my side, babe. Taking out the camera was a nice touch."

Jon pretended to casually examine his nails. "I do try to use my powers for good." Since the only things he had intentionally killed with his lethal touch were bombs planted in Vegas casinos and a laptop belonging to a corrupt cop, I believed him. He had apologized profusely for accidentally frying Garrett's watch when they first met. Though given the mood I was in, I didn't really care what of Garrett's got wrecked.

"And I'm always on your side," Jon added, dutiful boyfriend that he was. "Even when you're not fully on mine."

Wait, what? "What do you mean by that? I'm always fully on your side, babe."

He gave me a knowing look as he turned his chair to face me, fingers steepled in front of him. "I saw you just after I found that CD. You were alarmed, protective, amused… but not surprised. And there was some anticipation in your lines. You knew something was up, but you didn't bother to warn me."

Well, I guess he was technically right, but… "Babe, I swear I wasn't in on the prank. I was given a head's up, likely so I wouldn't get caught unawares and go full Rambo over a mere CD. But I didn't know what they had planned, or when. Just that it was something relatively harmless, and I didn't want to completely spoil their fun."

The look Jon gave me now was assessing. I suspected the eyes that the local justice system depended upon were currently weighing me up, the man they belonged to about to pass judgement on me.

"Still, that means you were abetting, if not directly aiding. I think that might be deserving of some additional punishment."

My blood rushed south, courtesy of the way his eyes raked over me and the thinly-veiled promise behind his words.

Boy oh boy oh boy. My lover was generally very generous in bed. But sometimes, when the mood struck him, he would go full chaos-gremlin on me, teasing me into a frenzy then backing down from my climax repeatedly, edging me until I could form no coherent thought in my mind save his name. So you could say he either deprived me or was extra generous in his treatment of me, depending on how you looked at it. Either way, he toyed with me shamelessly.

He did always let me come. Eventually. He just took over full control of when that was.

I had the feeling that the chaos gremlin was going to be the one bedding me tonight. And I had not a single complaint about that. No matter what 'punishment' he had in store for me, I had no doubt that I would be very well taken care of.

I swallowed around my suddenly dry mouth. "Well," I said, matching the unspoken innuendo in his tone, "if you think I truly deserve punishment, I would be a fool to resist."

I didn't need to be psychic to know that my aura was all orange with anticipation now. The way Jon eyed me in a predatory way confirmed as much.

Come ten o'clock tonight, I would be wishing that whatever tricks he played on me would never come to an end - though by the end of them, I would come.

Eventually.