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Right Call

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Disclaimer: I do not own From Dusk ‘Til Dawn, nor am I gaining profit from this story. These characters belong to the authors of their original creation and their re-imagining.


Right Call


She was sitting on the bed flipping aimlessly through channels when she sighed heavily getting both of the brothers’ attentions.

“You doin’ okay, Kiddo?” Seth questioned as he finished reassembling his gun. “Your arm still bothering you?”

“It’s fine.” She looked at the bandage wound around her left bicep. “You know when I got hurt when I was younger, I used to get ice cream.” She looked at the elder Gecko with a small smile.

“Is that your subtle way of asking for ice cream for dinner?”

“Maybe.” She batted her eyelashes playfully at Seth.

Richie rolled his eyes at the exchange and went back to jotting down notes about the bank job they’d just pulled.  Important to have knowledge of your history or you were doomed to repeat it and Kate getting injured was not something that would be repeated.

“Okay you want ice cream. Anything else?” He threw his jacket on over his t-shirt.

“I wanted to try one of those panini sandwiches that we saw from that ice cream/coffee shop.” She had left the t.v. on HBO and switched to scrolling through her phone, probably texting with her brother. “You know the one that Richie said was a Canadian chain and he was surprised it so far south.”

“Tim Hortons.” Richie supplied without looking up, “We passed one in Maplewood.”

“That’s more than a half an hour from here.” Seth pointed out, but looked at Kate’s expectant face and threw up his hands in defeat. “Fine. But I’m not driving an hour plus to get you a treat the next time you get shot. Mostly ‘cause you’re not getting shot again. Richie’s gonna do what he should have done and protect you. What flavor you want?”

“Birthday cake.” She smiled, “With cookie dough in it.”

“Cooler’s still in the trunk?” Seth asked and Richie nodded in response, “You want anything?”

“Surprise me.” Richie challenged.

“Fine, but no bitching when I get back.” Seth snagged the car keys, “Check on her arm will ya? She’s been itching at it.”

“Hey, she’s right here.” Kate folded her arms over her chest.

“Yes you are, Princess.” Seth kissed the top of her head before towards the hotel room door. “And we are both very glad that you are. Keep the genius out of trouble, for me.” Richie flipped Seth off as the door slammed.

The movie played quietly in the background, but the atmosphere in the room had changed. It felt oppressively quiet. He could hear himself writing, graphite against paper as he continued his notes. Kate wasn’t supposed to get hurt, but when the guard had gotten the drop on them, he’d protected Seth and not Kate. You could argue that he was just more used to Seth’s presence and covered his brother on reflex, but it didn’t make him feel any better. The sound of her yelp, the smell of her blood and the second shot of her taking out the guard’s kneecap had been a split second in time. Seth had grabbed the cash, covering them as he picked up Kate, carrying her out of the bank. Seth had yelled at him during their getaway and growled at him, while patching Kate’s arm, pointing out that Richie should always protect Kate first. Kate told him to hush and that she was fine.

He hated that Kate got hurt, it gnawed at him; he shouldn’t have let her get hurt. He should’ve protected her, honesty the guard shouldn’t have gotten the drop on them in the first place, and it was damn embarrassing that he had. What was even more embarrassing was now that he knew Kate wasn’t in danger; the scent of her blood had him completely turned on. Blood was the conduit to the soul and he’d always loved her soul, that light that she possessed had drawn him in, even before he was a culebra. Now it was worse, like a junkie that needed a fucking fix he was restless, his foot tapping against the floor. He was trying to focus on his notes, but she was so distracting. Her blood had stained his white shirt and he’d abandoned it opting to sit in his undershirt and slacks. He should go feed, that would get his thoughts away from Sweet-Kate and how she wasn’t really his.

“Earth to Richard Gecko, please come in.” Kate’s amused voice drew him away from his thoughts and he over looked at her. “Did you hear what I said?”

 He shook his head in response, and she sighed motioning for him to come sit with her on the bed. He complied wordlessly, sitting on the edge of the bed, closest to her injured arm. His finger twitched against the ugly comforter and his nostrils flared; this was too close.

Kate brushed her fingers under his chin requesting, with touch, for him to meet her eyes. “I said, you made the right call.” Before he could argue she continued. “That big brain of yours works faster than even you understand sometimes. You made the right call.”

He didn’t move, but his eyes strayed to her arm. “You got hurt.”

“And Seth would have died.” She countered, pointing out what she saw and he’d missed, at least on a conscious level. “That guard would have shot Seth in the chest, but me? Girl in a pretty dress; he hesitated. That’s why he shot at my arm and not center mass, he didn’t want to hurt a little girl. With Seth he probably would’ve taken a kill shot. Somewhere in that genius-ness that make you so special, you knew that. Besides, I’d rather have a nick to the arm, than no Seth and you know that makes sense.”

He nodded, but still didn’t meet her eyes.

“I’m fine, I promise.” She laid her hand over one of his. “My fingers are little tingly though.”

“Tingly how?” He snapped to attention, needing more information.

“Um… kinda like I slept on it wrong…Oh pins and needles, it feels like that.” She noticed his confusion and elaborated, “Like when you cross your legs and your foot falls asleep.”

Richie shook his head, exasperated, “Idiot wrapped your arm too tight. He cut off the blood flow. I’m gonna get clean bandages for you, I’ll have to re-wrap it.” He stalked into the bathroom and grabbed the first aid kit.

“Is it gonna bleed again?”

Richie sat back next to her and set the kit down on the stand. “Yes and because he cut off the blood flow, your body hasn’t been able to start the healing process properly yet.”

She winced as he started to unwind the bandage and after the third layer of the wrap was unwound a line of blood ran down from under the bandage and trailed down her forearm. He moved her hand to rest on his leg, he knew she wouldn’t want to stain the bed, even if had already seen much better days.

He continued to unwind the bandage, but was now more hyper-aware of what she was wearing. Kate had a small wardrobe for the daytime and robbery hours, but her nighttime/hangout in motel rooms attire was comprised completely of items she’d stolen from himself and Seth, except for that one really ugly Fanglorious shirt that he kept trying to ‘lose’ for her. Currently she was sitting in one of his tank-tops and pair of his old boxer shorts and although she’d washed and worn them enough for them to smell like her, when she wore them, he could smell himself on her.

It was an animalistic throwback, like marking territory, not that Kate was his territory… but it did things to him when he caught his scent on her. Humans liked to pretend that part of their nature didn’t exist, but it did. It was just expressed in different ways now: ring on a certain finger, offering a girl your shirt after sex, sharing a shower and washing her with your soap, getting her addicted to your favorite foods, and of course the ever cliché hickey on the neck.  All of these little tropes and countless more were simply to silently scream to others: this one, this one is mine.

He pulled the gauze off and she let a pained noise escape her lips. “Sorry.” He apologized and started to massage the area over the wound to get the blood to flow properly again.

“It’s gonna bleed a lot more if you do that.” She pointed out as he continued moving his finger over her skin, trying so hard to not cause her unnecessary pain.

“Part of the process, blood has to flow for healing to happen.” He kept his eyes over her wound, trying to ignore the trails of blood trickling down her arm. His hearing was too acute; he could hear the drops hitting his thigh where her fingers rested.

“Too bad I can’t heal anymore.” She flexed her fingers against his leg.

“I think you being you, is a fair trade off for healing at a human pace.” He reached for the kit to get clean gauze to cover the line of torn flesh.

She sighed again, “Too bad you can’t share your healing talents a little. It’s gonna scar.” Her eyes were watching him, he could feel it as he picked through the kit. “Manola, Kisa’s lover, she didn’t have any bite mark scars, I thought that was interesting.”

He set out the bottle of peroxide, and nodded, “Manola allowed Kisa to feed on her willingly, our salvia can help the healing process if we apply it to a fresh wound.”

“Like how dog’s tongues are cleaner than peoples?”

“That’s a myth.” Normally he would have launched into an explanation of the how the healing process for animals and humans was very different, but he was trying to control himself, because the smell of her blood was too much. He needed to cover her arm and go feed, before he said or did something stupid.

“Did you hear me?” Kate’s voice was amused, because she knew he hadn’t and she repeated. “I said maybe we could see if it works on my arm.” Despite the confidence in her voice, her cheeks were stained pink.

He inclined his head to one side, trying to gage what it was that she wanted. “I can’t just spit into my hand and wipe it on you.” Her nose wrinkled, before he leaned into her space as he clarified exactly what her request would entail. “I’d have to lick your wound.”

He could feel the heat of her skin as her blush darkened, “I know. I trust you.”

Trust; there was a word he wasn’t used to. He’d done some very bad things in his life many of them to people that had trusted him. He betrayed the people he claimed to love for his own ends and much he regretted those choices and yet he knew that regrets were pointless, you couldn’t change the past. Now staring into her green eyes, he felt part of his heart break, Kate trusted him. She had no fear of what he was or what he could do, because she trusted him, completely.

He took off his glasses and set them next to the kit on the table and his eyes changed. He felt the familiar rush of power as the other side of himself broke the surface. “I’ll try to stay out of your memories.” He promised, just before he ran his tongue over the still bleeding line on her bicep.

He felt her stiffen and relax in less than second. She made a soft sound, but he couldn’t decide if it was pain or something else… She shifted her legs and he caught the scent of her arousal. That broke his concentration of blocking her thoughts, the images in her mind were nothing short of pornographic and he was star of the show. He hummed on her skin, his interest peeked. He wondered how much of it was a physical reaction and how much was her reaction to him specifically. Only one way to test the theory; he lifted her arm to clean the remaining blood from it. He ran his tongue down her forearm and captured her fingers with his mouth sucking each one to get every drop of blood. She whined, breathlessly; she was turned on… and while he knew what he wanted to do about it, he wasn’t sure if he should. He let himself slip back into his human form and carefully wrapped her injury again, listening to the overzealous pounding of her heartbeat.

“Kate…” He taped the bandage in place and tried to think this through.

She grabbed his face with both hands and kissed him, no doubt tasting traces of her own blood, but it didn’t seem to faze her. She pressed her lips to his again and he realized that he hadn’t reacted beyond not moving away. He returned the kiss, his own blood running hot from tasting hers and the images in her mind. He nipped at her lower lip and slipped his tongue into her mouth. She moaned and wrapped her arms around his neck, trying to draw him closer. He obliged her request, sliding one arm up her back forcing them chest to chest. He broke away from their kiss to let her breathe and open-mouth kissed his way down her neck, running his tongue over her pulse point.

She gasped, her nipples hardening against his chest, fabric barriers still between them. She must’ve forgone her bra when she changed earlier, he hadn’t noticed until now. “Richie…”

“I saw,” He whispered on her skin, “I saw us in your mind. How long have you wanted me?” He needed to know, needed to hear it. He couldn’t help but continue his exploration of her skin under his tongue. The bumps of her collar bones, the hollow of her throat… She tasted like ambrosia, food for gods and he was fucking starving.

“Hasn’t your daddy ever told you not to do this?” Her voice was breathy, hitching at the word ‘daddy.’ She drew in more air, nails from her right hand running down his chest, tentative almost shy. “Attraction was gone when I got shot, but...”

He paused, because she stopped talking and pulled away from her slightly. Her eyes questioned him, but he pushed up her tank-top with one hand, the other hand still against her spine. He lifted her to him with one hand letting her back arch as he ran his tongue over her stomach, where gunshot scars should have been. He sucked on her soft skin at the edge of her rib cage and she moaned in response. He lowered her back down, his arm between her and the headboard.

“But?” He asked quietly, his mouth moving back up her throat. She didn’t answer, but angled herself to give him better access to her tender skin.  He stopped his explorations and waited until she looked at him. Her pupils were blown, and her expression was one of confusion. She didn’t know why he stopped, but more importantly, she hadn’t wanted him to stop. “Kate, you were in the middle of a sentence. You said the attraction was gone, but…”

Her skin flushed down to her chest, “I saw your thoughts when she was inside of me. I think I saw how you see me. It felt like you wanted me and I saw how you wanted me.” She bit her lip, “But I’m not… I’ve never… I’m not sure if I’m really what you want or if it was just her torturing me.”

He moved up on the bed, pinning her legs between his. “I want you.” He pressed his forehead against hers. “I’ve wanted you in any way that you’d have me since I saw you floating in that pool, watched you holding that cigarette I gave you, and since you touched my fingers when you led me to pray.” He rubbed his nose against hers; he wanted her feel as desired, but he also needed her to know this was not simple lust.

She turned her face and caught him in another kiss; he let her set the pace this time. He let her rub her tongue against his, while her anxious hands tried to find more of him. “I want to feel your skin.” She broke away from their kiss, her voice not as sure as her words.

He pushed himself up to his knees, and pulled off his shirt, tossing it away. She ran her fingers up his stomach and chest, almost nervous, like he’d run if she did it wrong.  He closed his eyes, let himself enjoy the sensation of being touched, it was so rare that he enjoyed being close to someone. Connections and closeness were work, you had to be what the other person wanted or it failed. Sex wasn’t about connection it was about release, but this… this was not that. Kisa was the closest comparison that he had, but even then he was trying to be what she needed, not simply just being with her.

Kate was so different, she loved without fear, and without pretense… she wasn’t trying to get something out of him. She shifted under him, running her tongue up his breastbone, until she found where his pulse would have been she sucked on it, mirroring what he’d done to her stomach. She exhaled against his skin, warming his cooler flesh, “You’re beautiful.”

He wanted to chuckle or be offended at the compliment, because men were not ‘beautiful,’ but the honesty in the air around them kept him silent. He grabbed her hips, pulling her to sit up level with him. He groaned out loud, when she instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist, pressing her heat to where he was already so hard. He grabbed the back of neck and devoured her mouth. There was no other word to describe how he was kissing her, he wanted her, gods how he wanted her. He forced himself away from her lips again, as conscious of how she needed to breathe, as he was of her injured arm. “Kiss me and kiss me again, for your love is sweeter than wine.” He quoted stolen words against her cheek.

She grabbed her own shirt with both hands, but winced as she brushed her injury against his bicep. “Damn-it.” She growled.

He let a chuckle pass over his lips, but slipped his hands under the tank-top, ridding her of it in a quick careful motion. “Such words from a preacher’s daughter.” He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. Her nipples were pebbled against his chest as he kept his fingers massaging up and down her back.

“Says the mastermind who’s quoting scripture.” Her hands gripped his shoulders as he found a knot below her left shoulder blade.

Her angle had her sitting higher then he was and he looked up into her eyes, partially proud that she’d known he was quoting from the Bible and partially confused she didn’t simply call him a thief. Her eyes were heavy; lust was an inebriating thing to see on a lover. She kissed his forehead, “You are so much more than a thief. You’re so much smarter than anyone gives you credit for. It’s your ambition that gets you in trouble; just don’t forget we’re better together.”

He tugged her down for another kiss; her taste was so damn intoxicating. He’d had wine that was hundreds by the glass and she put it to shame.  He kissed down her neck and one hand found her breast palming it, getting a feel for her reaction to the new territory. Kate’s back arched and she puffed out a ‘yes’ that he felt in his hair.

He needed to keep her balanced against him, laying her down too far might jostle that arm. He took his hand away from her breast and her before she could complain he lifted her by the hips again. He brought her high enough that her breasts were level with his face. “Many waters cannot quench love; rivers cannot wash it away…give up all the wealth of his house for love…” He whispered over her skin, then captured one of her nipples in his mouth, suckling and lapping at it until she sobbed out his name. He could live for a thousand years and he’d never forget the sound of his name from her lips. He switched to the other breast giving it just as much attention. Her nails were digging into his shoulder and scalp, trying to keep him in place.

There were going to be bruises on her hips, he knew how hard he was gripping her. He was trying to be gentle… If he didn’t have as much self-control as he did, he would have already flipped her under him and seen how many times he could get her to come undone. He continued to mouth at her sensitive flesh as his brain tried to work out how to make the next transition without hurting her or break the momentum. She ground herself against him, trying to get more friction. “I need you to unhook your legs, Kate.” She complied and he climbed off the bed, dragging her to edge by her hips.

He hooked the band of the boxer shorts and pulled them off her, making her yelp, leaving her in cotton-candy pink panties.  He knelt in front of her, hands on her knees spreading her legs as he kissed his way up the inside of her thighs. She whimpered and he looked up at her again, needing to be sure. “We can stop. I can stop.”

“If you stop, I might shoot you.”

He grinned against her skin, “I can survive being shot.”

“Still hurts like hell.” She snickered, but white-knuckle gripped the comforter beneath her.

“That it does.” He worked his mouth higher up her thighs, his fingers tracing circles on her knees. He reached her apex of her thigh and blew heat against her panties, just enjoying her reactions to him. She unabashedly whined and tried to move closer to his face, but he held her still. His tongue snaked out, pressing against fabric tasting her wet heat, and catching the truest essence of her scent. “You have captured my heart, my treasure… You hold it hostage with one glance of your eyes.” He needed her to know that this was so much more than a fuck.

He slipped a single finger under the fabric and inside of her as he continued to breathe over her heat.

“Jesus Christ.” She cried out.

He smirked, there was something deviantly satisfying about hearing blasphemy fall from her lips as he scrolled scripture onto her flesh.  He leaned up against the edge of the bed, his finger finding its way deeper inside of her, “I want you to do something for me.”

She nodded, and tried to move against his finger, but he kept her still again.

“I want you to try to lay back, but I need to see if it hurts your arm.” He watched her lay back one arm over her head the injured one, resting at her side; hand on her stomach. “Are you good?” His finger stilled inside her, he wanted to make sure that she could actually feel her arm. She nodded and he leaned over her for another moment kissing her stomach, finger sliding in and out of her, almost lazy. “Just be careful when you sit up to grab my hair to hold on.” He warned kissing his way back down, pulling her panties partway down with his teeth. He pulled his finger out of her and she groaned in protest.

He pulled her panties off of her, he’d thought about cutting them off, but he’d save that for another time. He ran his tongue along her heat and she gasped in shock. He was thorough, always been told that. He strove for perfection in everything and this was no exception. He lapped at her tasting how aroused she truly was and slid his tongue in and out of her trying to see how much she could take. She was trying to move against him, get a little more friction, but he prevented it. He found her clit and sucked on it making her cry out his name. He ran a single finger along her lips as he used the tip of his tongue to tease at her clit, like a painter trying to master a brushstroke. He was torturing her, wanted to see how far he could take her before she truly started to beg.  He changed speeds and slid a finger into her, then two, then he’d take them away, fucking her with his tongue, thumb turning circles over her swollen clit.

“Richie, please… I need.” She whimpered, voice breaking in frustration.

He pressed his hand down on her stomach, controlling how much she could move. He bought his mouth down on her, whispering profane things that she couldn’t hear as he drank from her. She folded herself over him, nails on his scalp, pulling his hair to get his face closer as she swore and called out for god. He could feel her start to shake and he let her move against his face, finally allowing her the friction she’d been seeking. She whispered his name like a prayer as she shuttered and came on his face; he lapped up everything she had to give.

“Lay back slow.” He admonished to the boneless girl, wiping off his chin with his shirt that had been discarded on the ground.

“No.” She muttered. She released his hair, but pinched his shoulders to get his attention. “I want you.”

He stood up between her legs and started to unhook his belt, but she covered his hands with her own, determination flashing in her eyes. She pulled off his belt and slid the zipper down, hands slightly less certain.

“I told you, we can stop.” He reminded her.

“Threat of being shot still stands and you really don’t want to get shot. It happened to me today and it sucks.” She stated to push his pants down. “Lose ‘em.”

He stripped completely and kicked the clothes away, “You got grazed; I’ve been shot in the head. It’s worse, trust me.” He drew in a sharp breath as she wrapped her hand around him, stroking him slowly.

“Is this okay? I don’t want to hurt you.” She continued her soft, gentle touches, slightly handicapped only having good hand.

“You aren’t gonna hurt me. You can do that harder.” He ground his teeth together, letting her get more confident as she touched him. “God you’re a quick study on everything aren’t you?” He cupped her face with one hand, making her look at him. “You’re beautiful. You feel amazing.”

She smiled, probably softer and sweeter then she have, considering that she was still stroking his dick. She gripped him tighter, experimenting with pace and speed, possibly trying to kill him. He closed his eyes, inhaling air he really didn’t need as he tried to find his focus again. Her tongue circled the head of his cock one time and she carefully sucked him into her mouth. He clenched his fists, nails drawing blood from his palms, but the injury healed as soon as it was done. He couldn’t let this continue, he was too close already.

“Kate.” His voice was tight, as he tried to get her attention.

She looked up and released him with an audible pop, eyebrow arched, “Not what you want?”

“Not right now.” He confirmed and helped her stand up, so he could capture her in a kiss knowing she taste could herself on him the same way he could taste himself on her. She threw her arms around his neck, desperately seeking entrance into his mouth, as if he’d ever deny her. They stood there naked, sharing fevered kisses and touches until she cursed in his mouth. “Your arm?” He questioned and she nodded. “You still good?” Another nod and she pulled him towards the bed.

He brushed the hair away from her face, and he kissed her softly, as he tenderly ran his fingers down her uninjured arm. “We’re gonna have to do this carefully. Just follow my lead.” He sat down on the bed, back against the headboard and motioned for her to come closer. “You control the pace and the speed. I’ll help you, if you need. Bonus, since I am the way I am you don’t have to figure out a condom.”

Kate looked genuinely nervous for a moment and he wondered if he’d gone too far. She threw one leg over him and kissed him as she started to lower herself onto him. He held completely still, letting herself adjust, but damn she felt so good, so tight and fuck she was wet. He expected a barrier, but felt nothing as she started to move slowly. He gripped at her hip with one hand, and the other moved up her back, which made her buck on him. He’d remember that.

“You are incredible. So beautiful.” He whispered, letting his hand wander away from her back, so he could tease her nipples. “You have no idea how amazing you feel.”

She braced herself with her good hand on the headboard as she started to find a rhythm. She let out a soft sound and bit her lower lip.

“I want to hear you.” He implored her, because he did want to hear her. “Tell me what you want.”

“I want your hands on my back.” Her voice was desperate, cracking on the last word.

He complied instantly, both hands sliding up parallel to her spine as her inner muscles spasmed. He continued to apply pressured and feature light touches to her back, drawing a sob from her. She leaned down closer to him and he caught one of her nipples in his mouth as she continued to move against him. He wanted to watch her fall apart, wanted to see that look of all-consuming pleasure… She was close: legs trembling, cunt tightening around him, it almost enough to push him over the edge.

“Kate.” His voice was low growl. “Kate, sit up. I want to see you.” He let his hands slip away from her back and one grabbed her hip while the other flattened against her stomach. She yelped as he took control of her movements. He forced her to slow her rhythm, friction fleeting, before shifting his hips to impale himself deeper inside. She cried out helplessly wanton.

“Please, Richie. I’m so close.” She ran one hand up her own chest and other buried itself into her hair.

She was a fucking goddess: flame hair and emerald eyes contrasting snow-white skin. He committed this image to memory, like a Renaissance painting. He thrust into her until she found her release a second time, this time taking him with her.

He caught his breath and wrapped his arms around her so he could lay her back against the bed. Her legs wrapped around his waist, trying to hold him in place.

“Don’t move. Feels so good.” Her voice was sleepy, sated.

He kissed her forehead, then her cheeks. “No choice. Seth will be back soon. We need to clean up and find our clothes. He doesn’t like naked people unless they are him or one of his conquests.”

Kate let out a breathy laugh as Richie lifted her out of bed, carrying her to the bathroom and setting her on the sink. “Whoa, that’s cold.” She complained as he turned on the water.

He wiped her down, then himself tossing the washcloth under the sink and grabbed a towel to dry them both off. “I expected…” He trailed off, realizing the question was both inappropriate and rude. It implied that he thought less of her and that was not case. He was curious, but not curious enough to risk hurting her feelings.

Her fingers toyed with the hairbrush sitting on the sink. She finally admitted quietly, “She…she made me use a…I don’t know what it was, but she forced me to break my hymen. She wanted me to feel tainted or dirty or something like that.” She turned her face away from him, tear sliding down her cheek. “You were my first, I swear…”

“Shh. Kate. Oh my Sweet-Kate.” He cupped her face and drew her back to him, “Ridiculous. You can’t take away someone’s light with such an antiquated definition of purity.” He kissed her slow and sweet, because he could tell she needed the reassurance. “You are my light in the darkness. Please don’t forget that.”

She sniffled and hugged him, a more intimate act, considering they were both still naked. “Thank you, Richie.”

He kissed the top of her head, “Come on we need to get dressed.” He helped her down from the counter gathering up her clothes from the floor and handing them to her. He watched her put her clothes, as he pulled on his pants and snickered as he realized that tank-top did nothing to disguise the hickey he’d left on the crook of her neck. Well there was that animalistic idea of marking your territory and he was a little more animal then man sometimes.

He settled back against the headboard of her bed and she cuddled up to him, both mindful of her injured arm. Her breathing started to even out, as she started to drift off to sleep. He put his glasses back on, and changed the channel until he found the classic movie network.

Seth unlocked the door about ten minutes later and looked at his brother and a sleeping Kate curled up on the bed together. He inclined his head to the side, “She okay?”

“Yup.” Richie smirked, not able to help himself.

“So two rooms from now on?”


“You better not of fucked her on my bed, asshole.”



Seriously I respect both ships and can see how they both could work... and how they would all work together. This was written and edited by me, so errors are all mine. I'll probably edit again later. This is a one shot.