New York, tattoos..and spirits, what could go wrong?

Nick was just playing video games, he went to the bar quick to deal with some things and make an appearance. He came back and has been drinking, video games ever since. It’s late, maybe 2am when he hears banging. His wife is actually home for once but sleeping, Nick puts down his beer and goes to the front door, he opens it and sees before him some guy who appears to be forcing himself on Quinn.

“Get the fuck off her” going up to the guy, the guy backs off and looks at Nick, “Who the hell are you guy?” Guy pushes Nick, Nick looks at that and punches the guy, as the guy gets back up and looks at Nick pissed off even more, he is tazed from behind.

Nick and the guy both see Quinn, the guy eventually says “No pussy is worth this mess, next time you feel like being slutty…come find me.”

Nick wants to go punch him again but Quinn steps up, putting her hand on his chest to hold him back and the guy leaves. Nick looks to her, “You have a real good track record on the guys you bring back, some of them are mostly idiots but that guy was a rapist in training.”

Quinn scowled and steadied herself against the wall. She put her taser back into her purse and watched as the guy left. Should've kicked him in the nuts when he was on the ground. It would've served him right.

Nick, ever the little knight in shining armor, stood looking at her in judgment and she didn't fucking need it right now. He didn't know her or her story or the shit life she was living, and he'd done all but call her a slut. Maybe she enjoyed sex just as much as any man did, and no one could say they had a one hundred percent track record in trusting the right people. She certainly didn't need his saving.

You live and you learn. His Tinder bio hadn't exactly warned her that he was a scumbag.

Frustrated, she turned to him and leveled him with a glare. "I'm perfectly fine with the men that I bring home because they're a means to an end, and I can damned sure take care of myself. Shove the savior complex up your ass, Nick. I brought my taser for a reason."

Nick looks at her, not believing this woman “You’re drunk, I was helping…, a thank you is what you say. If that is the guy you bring home, you can forget about Ryland ever coming over to your place again.”

He walked off and then came back, “Stick to my original assumption of you, you’re crazy.” He goes back to his door finally to go back inside.

Quinn reached down and tore off her heels, then rolled her eyes so hard that it could be seen from space. “No, thinly veiled slut shaming is what you did! How is it that if a woman enjoys sex and happens to misjudge someone’s character, it’s her fault? A guy just shoves his hand inside me without consent and you say, ‘Golly gee, you sure know how to pick them!’”

She thought of her father and his speeches. It sounded just like some shit he would say. Her rage intensified. “Maybe don’t focus on me, Captain Save a Ho, and take care of your own fucking marriage. Leave me the hell alone.”

She needed a shower. She felt all gross now and she didn’t need anyone’s saving, let alone Nick’s. How self-important men were, she thought, to philander and abuse and then shame women for their lack of mind reading skills when they suffered from a man’s abuse. At the end of the day, no matter what, the female got the blame.

Fuck men, honestly. She was done with them all.

She didn’t wait for whatever his next shitty response would be and instead simply strolled into her apartment, slamming the door behind her.

That was what she got for making friends here.

He goes to her door and bangs on it, she opens it and he looks at her “What the fuck are you talking about? Do you have some made up assumption about me? Thank you for reminding me why I don’t talk to people in this building. You don’t want friends in this huge ass city, congratulations you’re doing just fine.” He walks off into his apartment and shuts the door.

For three straight days, Quinn and Nick avoided each other like the plague. She went to work, she came home, she got drunk and fell asleep to do the same thing again tomorrow.

Her mother followed her down the stairs again, regarding her daughter with a heavy sigh. "Your father messed us both up good, didn't he?"

"This has nothing to do with him," Quinn shot back, annoyed. It was always the armchair psychology with people. Daddy issues didn't have to explain everything wrong with the world at any particular given moment, but her mom would surely try.

"It does, a little. The misogyny. You paint every man with the same brushstroke. I don't think that Nick was slut shaming."

"Victim shaming, then," Quinn murmured, lowering her voice when she saw some people milling about in the lobby. "I get assaulted in a hallway and he chooses that moment to tell me I pick shitty guys."

"I know," her mother said. "That was uncalled for. You both said things that were out of line."

"Like hell I did. Aren't you supposed to be on my side?"

"I am, honey. But he did help you out. Even strong women can thank a man every once in a while."

Quinn gritted her teeth and burst through the doors of the apartment entrance, stomping her way toward her car. People filtered out after her, no doubt wondering who she was talking to. "I can take care of myself, Mom. But good talk."

Just when she turned the corner, she saw the devil himself. His arms were raised in a defensive manner, his body rigid and immobile. She gazed around him and saw the man with a gun trained on his face, demanding his belongings.

A mugging, this early? The balls on these Yankees.

Quinn rolled her eyes and pulled her gun from her holster, side stepping Nick to stand in front of him. She trained it on the mugger and summoned her cop voice, which wasn't hard to do when she was already pissed. "NYPD! Drop the fucking weapon and get on the ground!"

Nick looks at this happen, as Quinn cuffs the mugger she calls for backpack to come pick him up as she’s not on duty. The cop car comes and halls the guy away.

Quinn is staring at Nick, with a well? He looks at her, “I think we both need a drink.”

He walks off and she’s still not sure, he looks back at her “You know you want too.”

She follows him, he unlocks his door and goes inside inviting her in. He asks her to lock the door behind her, the dog runs up to him and then to her wanting to lick and just get attention.

Nick goes to a bar area he has in the loft and grabs down a nice bottle of whiskey, he opens it and pours it into two glasses and hands her one.

“A truce, to be fair…I wasn’t slut shaming you. I just, I think you can do better then the guys you brought back but it’s not my place to say and you know…thanks for what you did just now.” He drinks down the booze and pours another.

Quinn couldn't help the snort that came out of her. "You mean the one night stands that I bring to my apartment for the sole purpose of fun aren't relationship material? Yeah, I gathered."

She took a swig. It was damned good whiskey. "I owe you an apology, too. I have my own issues and I went a little rogue on you. All that aside, you had my back. So thanks."

Nick raised his glass and she raised hers. They toasted, then sat in silence for a second.

Stubborn as ever, she shrugged and tilted her head. "I mean, I had him. But thanks."

Nick looks at her, “So, I’ve realized…instead of assuming shit about each other, we get to know each other instead. I want to know why you moved to New York, obviously you got this job opportunity but you could go be a detective anywhere right? Why here?” They are sitting in the living room, Quinn on the couch and Nick across on the chair.

Around the house you can see pictures of him and his wife, some wedding ones. The pictures are quite beautiful, it shows a Hindu ceremony and both Nick and Lara in traditional Indian garments for their wedding day.

Quinn didn’t want to get into it, but she could still answer as vaguely as possible. “I hate small towns. I’m from a place with under two thousand people and they all seem to know your business. Can’t throw a dead cat without hitting a church but you gotta drive half an hour to find a grocery store.”

She looked around his apartment and saw the photos on the walls. Turned out she had seen his wife before. She’d likely passed her just this morning as she was talking to her dead mom. That surely made quite the impression.

Anyway.

“Also, I’m what you would say, abnormally good at my job. I’ve got a great solve rate and you Yankees are a murder-y bunch, so business is good. What’s your wife do?”

Nick laughs, “ Sure you’re not a comedian? I don’t think I’ve ever met someone so expressive.” He pours he another glass, drinks his own, “my wife is a nurse, so she’s almost never here and I work mostly at night, we are lucky to have 10 minutes with each other. She should be home soon, unless she was asked to stay, which happens, …always.”

“Yikes,” she said. “Never seeing each other isn’t a good way to keep the marriage alive. Y’all should vacation or something.”

His dog, Charlie, strolled over and sat by her feet. She bent down to give him a pet and he wagged his tail in excitement.

“You in a band or solo?” She nodded toward the guitar propped up in its stand across the room.

Nick looks at her but doesn’t want to respond to marriage comment, neither is losing a baby is his thought. He answers about the music question, “I play in band, nothing really serious but who knows…it’s a dream like countless others in this city.”

They spend more time just talking, about music and movies, interests. Nick finds her very different from most women he’s spoken too, she was very intelligent and it was really turning him on.

It had almost been two hours when you could hear keys jingle in the door and turn, the dog started barking and ran toward it excites. Lara comes in, carrying mail “Ugh, a wedding invitation babe…, just what I need.” She tosses her keys, it lands in the bowl perfectly. She has her shoes off and comes into the living room, she sees Quinn and is taken a back for a second, “Oh, you’re our new neighbor…, you both just hanging out?” She looks at Nick.

He tells Lara what happened, Lara gasps and looks at Quinn “Thank goodness you were there, it’s handy to have a detective living in the building then!”

Quinn shook her head. “It was no biggie. Kind of brazen for the middle of the day, though. Might should get yourself a firearm.”

She slid out of her stool and stooped down to give Charlie another pet on the head. “Who’s a good boy? You like cats, buddy? You can meet Lurch. Would you like that?” She wasn’t sure if he was more excited by her words or by the fact that she was rubbing his belly, but she really needed to get going. She’d sat here for two hours talking to a married man, and now that his wife was here, she felt like an intruder.

“Well, I should get going. It was nice to meet you.” She turned from Lara to Nick again. “Oh hey, I got tickets to Horror Fest this October. So long as you’re both fine with it, I figured Ryland would love to go.”

Nick looks at her, also stands up and nods,”Sure..” she leaves and Lara is looking at her husband, he looks at her finally “What?”

“Remember I told you, she was talking to herself! That girl is crazy and also can’t keep her eyes off you. She tries really hard to stare at our dog.” Lara says, following him as he walks to the kitchen, she rolls her eyes and picks up the two glasses he left behind.

He opens the fridge,”She’s new to the city, also helped me out with Ryland and oh, helping me not get mugged.” He looks to see what’s good for food.

“Really, just doing your neighborly duty?” She looks at him, he closes the door and looks at her, “Are you jealous?” Lara laughs, “No..”

He goes up to her, “I kind of like it” “ Lara just looks at him unsure,”She is just a friend, I’m friendly…you know that from experience.”

Lara smiles and kisses him, they have some adult fun right in the kitchen. Also spend all night in their bed, Lara turns to her side and falls asleep. Nick lays on his back, is thinking damn that was the best sex they have had in months. Slightly thinks about Quinn but puts his mind to something else, finds it hard unfortunately.

Coincidentally enough, Lara was the first person Quinn saw when she ventured out to work the next morning. They smiled awkwardly in the hallway, walked alongside each other, then were forced to take the stairs together. The silence was killing Quinn, so she spoke, but she also wasn't a great conversationalist so she navigated around the elephant in the room like a bull in a china shop.

"I'm not trying to get with your husband."

Lara spun around in shock, frozen in the middle of the stairwell. Quinn nearly fell backward from the sudden loss of momentum.

"Excuse me?"

Quinn cleared her throat. "Yeah, I mean, you know, I don't know anybody here so he helped put my bed together. We're just friends."

Lara wasn't buying it. "I see how you look at my husband, Detective. Or how you don't, rather. You did everything you could to look away as soon as I got there."

Flustered, Quinn tried to think of a response and settled on the truth. "I won't lie to you, Lara. Anyone with eyes can tell that he's attractive. I'm not some homewrecker, though. You have nothing to fear from me."

Both women stood there for a short moment and then Lara finally began moving again. Quinn followed tentatively after her. "And talking to yourself?" Lara asked. "What's that about?"

Quinn laughed. "Oh, yeah, that. You mean yesterday? That was my mom. We had a little tiff."

Lara stopped again for a brief moment and then touched her hand to her chest in relief. "Oh, I feel so silly now. It must've been bluetooth and I just didn't notice."

"Nah. She was right here with me. She's just dead so you couldn't see her."

Just then, her phone rang. Quinn answered, listened for a second, and nodded. "I'm on my way." She put her phone in her pocket and patted Lara on the shoulder. "I gotta jet. Take care, yeah?"

Another day, another dead body. She took the stairs two at a time and rushed to the parking lot, leaving a puzzled Lara in her wake.

Nick was at work one night, it was a slow night and in walked a gentleman he knew all to well. “I thought I’d stop by, how’s it going kid?”

Nick and John shake hands, “Living the dream.” Nick pours a pint of beer for the man and sets it down, John takes a drink “How’s Lara doing?”

“She pretends she’s okay, I think she’s trying to get pregnant again. “ Nick says, doing stuff at the bar as he goes. John looks at Nick, he knew when the kid was troubled ,”Something you don’t want?”

Nick looks at John,” I don’t know…” while John thinks of what to say, in walks Quinn and Tobias. Tobias claps his hands together, “Give me a cold one Nick, my lips are thirsty.”

Tobias grabbed a stool right next to Quinn's, then grinned when he saw John. "JohnBoy, that you? What are the odds?"

John turned around and beamed when he saw Tobias while Quinn and Nick regarded them with questions in their eyes. John turned back to Quinn and explained. "We were beat cops back in the day."

The two men shook hands, exchanged pleasantries, and then Tobias introduced him to Quinn. She rose to shake his hand. "Friend of Nick's?" she asked.

"We go way back," he replied, giving Nick a conspiratorial wink. "You keep an eye on Miller here. Man can throw 'em back like you wouldn't believe."

She watched curiously as he sat back down a few seats away and continued his discussion with Nick.

Quinn nursed her whiskey and nudged Tobias. "How's the wife and kids?"

He looked at her with pride in his eyes. "Mary's good. Naggin' at me to retire like always. Jess is doing great at LSU and Marcus just had baby numero dos. Cute as can be." He pulled out his phone to show her. "Look at that nose. That's a Miller nose, through and through."

Quinn smiled as he flipped through photos. "You're such a proud dad. It's adorable."

He took a sip of beer and nodded sagely. "I am very adorable. Thank you for that."

She laughed and said, "They're lucky to have you, bud. A toast to the newest Miller baby."

They both raised their glasses and clinked them together. "How about you? Your old man still around?"

Her mood soured the smallest bit. "Beats me."

He seemed surprised that she'd actually answered him. "Hey, I actually got a little nugget of info out of you. Careful, Gallagher, before I start thinking you're human."

She chortled and downed the rest of her drink. "Well, we can't have that, can we?"

Nick looked at them,”her? Human? Half the time it looks like she’s looking blankly at something.”

Quinn looked at Nick, who just smirked back. Tobias looked to John who gave a look back. “How many arrests today for you guys? Less murderers on the street’s? Specifically near my bar?”

Tobias patted Quinn on the shoulder. "At the rate we're going, we'll have all of them locked up by next week. My new partner has a particular gift."

John looked intrigued. "Oh, yeah? How so?"

While Quinn shook her head to drop it, Tobias leaned in closer to John to whisper, "She speaks to the dead."

Nick glanced up and fixed his eyes on Quinn. She shrugged. "Quite the gift," John said doubtfully, masking it with a smile. "So the vic tells you who did 'em in, huh?"

"Something like that," Quinn answered. "Methinks Miller has had enough and should go home. Tell Mary I said hi."

Tobias snickered. "Oh, suddenly it's a secret?" He looked at Nick, then Quinn again, and grinned knowingly. He bent down until his lips were level with her ear. "My apologies. Can't have the cute neighbor thinking you're insane."

"He already knows that," she whispered back, and then he was gone. As the hours winded down, people went back to their homes and Quinn was the only one left in the bar besides Nick. She sat enjoying her buzz as she watched him wipe down the bar. She decided to ask him what she'd been wondering the whole evening: just how, exactly, did she and a former beat cop go way back?

"So how do you know John?"

Nick looked at her and leaned across the bar, near her and thought about what to say, “John is basically the reason I didn’t go down a path that would land me in prison or worse. I was involved with selling drugs, weapons, you name it. Got my girlfriend at the time pregnant and I wanted to…stop that whole life. John arrested me a couple times but each time, he understood me I guess. He gave me roof and helped me get this job which led me to owning the place. My life in a nutshell.”

Quinn smiled. She wasn’t sure why she was so surprised to hear that, but she was glad he’d turned his life around. “Good to hear it. How about family?”

“Never met my dad and my mom, she is an addict. I was put into foster care when I was 15.” He finishes what he was doing and looks at her, “ enough about me, tell me about your family…in North Carolina” he says that last part, trying to do the accent.

Quinn laughed. She'd done far too much drinking tonight to keep her past locked up. Without even noticing how starved she was for deep conversation, words spilled from her mouth with abandon. "My mom was a saint. She was my best friend. She died last year."

She told him how it happened, where she came from, how she lived. She talked about her father, the failed preacher; the man who freely fucked around on his wife but hypocritically expected chaste behavior from the females who surrounded him. The man who didn't even have the charisma to keep a congregation because he was too drunk to hold himself steady behind the podium. How he obsessed over how perfectly he could brainwash his wife and daughter, how he tore his wife down with daily insults about how much more attractive she could be, about every way in which she was lacking as the subservient wife of a godly man.

"You know how many bible verses I can recite?" she asked Nick, not really looking for an answer. "Damned near all of them. He was an Old Testament kind of preacher but as long as it was hateful and misogynistic, he'd preach 'em all."

She took a swig of whiskey and played with the condensation on her glass. 'A woman should learn in quietness and full submission. I do not permit a woman to teach or to assume authority over a man'. Timothy 2:11-15. Oh, here’s a real gem: Did you know that if a betrothed virgin is raped in the bible and she doesn't cry out enough, then the men of the city should stone her to death? I do, because I was taught to hate myself for my gender. He wanted a boy 'cause girls are unclean."

She relayed the story of how, when she was eleven years old, a boy at school fancied her and had asked a friend for her number. When he called the house to speak to her, she got the belt. It always ended with the belt.

Fuck, that was enough drinking for today. She tried to end it on a cheery note, told him that she and her mother had left him years ago, but the mental trauma was there.

On the bright side, she was now a raging feminist. She didn't hate her body, she loved it. It wasn't for men's pleasure -- it was for her own. And sex was fun, not a one-way ticket to Hell. Hell, she no longer believed in Hell. Unlearning all the bullshit had been the most liberating part of her adult life. College had been a blast. Her life was looking up, and her father was nowhere to be seen. She only wished her mother could be there in more than just spirit to enjoy it with her.

When Nick closed up the bar, he asked if she needed a ride, and she did. Tobias had been her transportation earlier. She hopped on the back of his bike and enjoyed the way her legs wrapped around his waist just so. He told her to hold on tightly and handed her his helmet and she did as she was told, pressing her front against his back as he zipped through the streets toward home.

It was nearly pitch black outside when they pulled into the parking lot and the only light that illuminated them was from the street lamp above. She leaned against a railing at the edge of the lot and tried to get some feeling back into her legs after the ride, doing all she could to avoid his gaze.

It was inevitable though, and it penetrated through her several layers of deep. They'd both revealed too much tonight, but that wasn't what had changed. It was something palpable between them. Yes, there'd been attraction and friendliness and a bit of lust for sure, but this was different. Something had been unlocked and exposed between them. Perhaps they'd held eye contact a tad too long this time, maybe they'd brushed against each other one too many times while she helped him clean up behind the bar. It was an electric charge between them -- a push and a pull, a thick current that got more dangerous the closer they became.

Without warning, as they stood taking in the fresh air before returning to their respective apartments, he kissed her. It was long and deep and fucking perfect, his hand cradling her jawline, her pelvis melding to his as they reached for one another. He breathed her in like a starving man, and she him, her heart beating a mile a minute inside her chest. She throbbed and ached below the waist, wetness pooling where she wanted him most.

"Fuck," she whispered against his lips. Everything inside her was telling her to stop but her body wouldn't hear it so she kissed him again, his tongue gaining entrance to her mouth, his lips soft and warm and inviting. "Nick," she mewled, hating herself for her sudden consideration of ethics, yet knowing she'd hate herself even more if this continued. She pressed against his chest and took a step back, the cool air that separated them as they parted washing over her like ice. It was what she needed to wake her up. "Nick, we have to stop."

He broke out of his haze but didn't look away. Lips swollen and eyes full of desire, his chest heaved as he forced himself to nod in agreement. Fuck, how was she going to face Lara in the morning? They'd made a habit of trudging the stairs together without exactly meaning to.

Quinn forced herself to put her hands in her pockets where they belonged and bounced on the heels of her feet, the night air feeling colder by the second. "I want you, Nick, but not... Not like this."

Nick stood more away from her and nodded, “I’m sorry…I just wanted to do that since I first saw you but I understand. I would fuck it all up anyways, fucking up my marriage ever since saying I do.”