ikissdhimbck | OOM: Room #100 -- For Tommy Gavin

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OOM: Room #100 -- For Tommy Gavin

[following this:]

It's late.

Dug hasn't shown up tonight, and the cats are curled up on Kate's bed sleeping soundly. She might have joined them already if Tommy hadn't said he'd be coming by.

'I just wanna see you tonight. That's all.'

She's curled up in one of her armchairs reading The Jungle Book, dressed comfortably but still very much clothed. Tommy won't be seeing her in her chemise, thank you. Her guns are laid out on the chest at the foot of her bed.

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There's a long pause.

When, finally, the door opens, it's just by a crack. She leans on the opposite end of the doorjamb, looking at Tommy with half-melted ice.

"No. That ain't what I'm sayin'."

Her voice is a little more level.

"Y'don't hafta look out for me, all right? I ain't defenseless. I've been lookin' out for myself for years now, an' I'll be lookin' out for myself long after you leave. Voodoo's always runnin' that big mouth of his, an' sayin' things he don't mean, but I don't need you t'step in for me. Or for him."

A crack is good. So is the look she gives him now, when her eyes don't aim to gouge holes in him as much as they did before.

He scratches the back of his head.

"Okay, listen, I wasn't-- I mean-- I know, okay, I know you ain't defenseless. You're like, one of the least defenseless people I know. Like if someone came up to me and asked me to pick three people with the best defenses, there'd be you, my sister, and the goalie on my hockey team. I know this, okay, but that won't change the way I feel. I wasn't lookin' out for you like you needed it or whatever, it's just-- that's how I react to things like this. I get-- y'know, defensive."

He pauses, shrugs haplessly. "And yeah, I overreact sometimes. ...Well, most of the time. ...All the time, really."

He's still confused as to when exactly this whole thing went south so quickly but it was his fault anyway.

"I'm sorry."

The corner of her mouth twitches.

"Jus' — don't fret about it."

If what he's saying is true, she'd shudder to think of what he'd do if he knew the bruises on her arms were Voodoo's doing. She doesn't aim to find out.

As for changing the way he feels — well. Men come and go. They've all got their opinions on what she can and can't handle, what she should let them do for her, what she should think, and how she should act. She always just ends up relying on one and they disappear. Part of what makes Tommy safe is knowing he won't stick around anyway.

But she'd rather not fight with him. She didn't expect him to care, but if he does then it's his prerogative, and so long as he's not trying to take care of her then she doesn't have anything to lose.

She glances away.

"I beg your pardon for snappin' at you."

With sobriety comes the clarity that one can concede to another without resentment.

"Well, hey, if snapping at me was one of your defenses, then I ain't gonna begrudge you the use of it."

He offers her a small, faint smile, a little wry as well, if she chooses to accept it.

Then straightening up with a sigh, he stuffs his hands into his pockets.

"Can you at least open the door a little more? I don't wanna leave you like this."

She silently debates the request.

Pulling the door open a little more, she looks up at him with a furrowed brow.

He didn't think she was going to be that literal when he said 'a little.'

With another sigh and a barely contained roll of his eyes, he whines, "Aw, c'mon, honey, I said I was sorry. What else d'you want me to say?"

She exhales sharply. It could be a laugh, or it could be a sigh of exasperation.

It's also entirely possible it's both.

She lets the door swing wide open, and crosses her arms. The ice is gone from her eyes, but in its place is that familiar outlaw bite.

"Nothin' else. We're square."

Her shoulders relax minutely, but it might be enough that, when combined with everything else, he'll know she's gone from scolding to teasing.

"Did y'want somethin'?"

"Well. That's good."

It is good. It's very good.

...So.

He senses the slight shift in her mood and an eyebrow twitches at her question.

"Did I--?"

Oh. Ohh, okay. Two can play at this game.

He shrugs, shakes his head.

"Nah, not really."

And he turns on his heel, stalking across the room to get his jacket.

Her eyebrows brush her hairline.

Arms still crossed, she takes the half-step into the doorway and leans against the jamb.

"Good. 'Cuz I don't plan on gettin' changed in front of you."

Her face is an impassable fortress.

With his back to her, he slips his arms into the sleeves of his jacket.

"Yeah, well, that wasn't the case last night, but whatever."

Meanwhile, he's already losing this game. She just can't see it. Back turned and all.

"Wasn't exactly gettin' changed."

Her voice carries the kind of nonchalance one would expect from discussing the weather.

"A lady has t'have some things that're private."

Beat.

"Haven't y'left yet?"

"And you weren't exactly stopping the process!"

He kind of wants to bang his head against the door.

"I'm putting on my--"

Exaggerated jacket-adjusting!

SIGH.

He turns around.

"Y'know, you could enjoy this a little less."

She makes eye contact, and a smile spreads like oil across a pan.

"I could, but I don't care to."

Do you see why Kate never seemed bothered, all those times you told her what an asshole you were, Tommy? It's because she's kind of an asshole, too.

"Now, are y'gonna get, or are y'gonna give me a kiss first?"

Grrr.

He rakes his teeth over his bottom lip.

"Nah-uh, honey. Are you gonna bring your sweet little behind over here so I can give you that kiss, or do I hafta get before you can get it?"

One hand is on his hip, the other's on the doorknob.

Ohhh.

The man is incorrigible.

She narrows her eyes.

"I'll meet you halfway, but that's as far as I'm goin'."

Take it or leave it, Thomas.

It's like...a reverse showdown.

"You're on."

He pushes off the doorknob, standing up straighter although there's still a cocky tilt to his hips and head as he eyes her from across the room, waiting for her to make the first move.

The look she casts him is more than a warning. If he's not careful, that cockiness will get his hide tanned.

She does take the first step, however. And, being a lady, she doesn't hem or haw about it. She moves the full distance across the room, regardless of whether or not Tommy starts on his end of the deal. It just so happens that right around the middle of the room is that chest at the foot of her bed, and Kate gracefully climbs atop it.

It's her turn to have the high ground.

(And, judging by the self-satisfied smirk hanging off her lips, she's not about to relinquish it. Tommy's just going to have to brace himself to take his kiss like lady.)

Warning, challenge, etc., blah blah blah.

The moment she moves, he moves, and with a just few long, loose strides he's at the halfway mark--

--except she's made a detour upwards, surpassing their fourteen inch height difference.

Standing toe-to-wooden-chest, he raises his eyes up at her, an eyebrow arched, before slowly tilting his head back, a twist to his lips.

"Mmhm. Real cute."

It's not a complaint, at least.

She doesn't exactly preen, but there's a definite air of smugness to her answering smile. She pinches her robe like she's about to curtsy, and with her free hand she takes his chin between her thumb and forefinger.

"I thought it was rather clever myself. Now, shut up."

With that, she leans forward and captures his mouth. He's graced with more than a peck goodbye, because he said he needed distractions to get him through the workday.

Well. Distractions are her specialty.

Tommy would voice his agreement, but he has to shut up now. He rarely follows orders, except from a very, very short list of certain people under certain circumstances. Needless to say, a certain outlaw has made this list, and this is definitely a circumstance that requires his full cooperation.

With a pleased, rumbling hum, he tilts his chin up into the kiss, parted lips yielding to hers. He reaches for her waist, his hands gliding on silk down over her hips to her thighs.

Best distraction ever.

When she's absolutely certain they're both sufficiently breathless, she breaks the kiss. She exhales against his wet lips, brushing his nose. Heavy doe eyes smirk down at him.

Her voice is husky and warm.

"Now, y'best get goin' before I make you apologize t'me proper."

She nips at his earlobe.

"Or we start another fight."

Six of one, half dozen of the other.

Parts of his brain short circuit at the prospect.

"...." he says.

Congratulations, Kate, you've just rendered Tommy speechless.

After a moment of dazed blinking, drunk on her voice, he huffs out a chuckle and licks her taste off his lips.

"I'll gladly owe you a proper apology next time I see you. Hell, whenever you want one, you can get one outta me. We wouldn't even hafta fight."

She grins.

"I'll remember that."

Then, placing her hands on his shoulders, she turns him toward the door.

"Now git!"

To that she adds a smack to his hindquarters.

He barks out a cross between a yelp and a laugh at the swat.

"Okay, okay!"

As he opens the door to finally leave, he pauses and turns on the threshold to look at her -- she's still standing on top of the chest in that red silk robe, still grinning, and probably ready to give him another smack if he lingers.

He considers pushing his luck.

Nah. There'll be enough for later.

...Why is it just now dawning on Tommy that this cowgirl is going to be a real handful?

"See ya in that purple dress, honey."

Giving a little wave, he shuts the door behind him.

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OOM: Room #100 -- For Tommy Gavin

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