gunslingerpose

So, last night Katherine brought food from the restaurant downstairs up to Nick's office, knocking lightly on the door. She hadn't seen him downstairs at all, had figured he was working on her case, and had figured food would be helpful. Nick had eaten the thickest, juiciest steak he'd eaten in his whole damn life last night, served with creamy mashed potatoes and crisp, buttery green beans.

While he ate, she went through his notes. After he finished eating, they kept talking, just spent hours bumping gums about whatever came to mind. Nick was surprised to find that she had a sense of humor. He was less surprised to hear things that suggested her father was up to some shady stuff in NYC, even if she seemed pretty sheltered from it herself. She convinced him to let her try a little bit of his whiskey and it knocked her on her adorable little bottom and they wound up dancing a bit in his office until she went and fell asleep on him. Like, right there on him. Girl couldn't handle her whiskey. But he settled her down on a couch that had seen better days, the one he normally slept on, and got back to work.

A few hours later, she woke up and shocked the hell out of him. Kissed him on the cheek thinking he'd fallen asleep at his desk (he was just closing his eyes, damn it), whispered good night, and tiptoed out of the room, leaving him there to come to terms with the fact that, damn, he'd only been on the case a day, and already he was halfway dizzy over the dame.

No, he corrected himself as he walked his beat down Fandom's streets, following one of his leads. Not a dame. Katherine was a lady.

Of course, it was right about then that he came across that very same lady, crumpled in a heap, soaked through with rain and sobbing her eyes out on the side of the road.

"Katherine? Jesus, Katherine, what happened?"

[For the dame lady, who also happened to write most of this post!]