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

Nick nods, drinks some more coffee. Quinn gets up with her coffee and goes off to Ryland. Nick looks to Jerry, he starts clearing away the dishes. Jerry wants a drink so badly, Nick can see the tension.
“You’re not relapsing here, take it elsewhere.” Nick warns, as he cleans up. Jerry sees him do this, completely new to him but helps anyways.
“Have you never loaded a dishwasher?” Nick says, seeing Jerry having some trouble with the buttons. He moves him aside and starts it up.

Jerry just stays in the kitchen with Nick, afraid to go anywhere else. It’s awkward, Nick thinks of something else to talk about,”Do you watch baseball?”
Jerry smirks and the boys get into a debate about pitchers and what not.

Quinn needed out of the house. She sat with Ryland for a few hours, flipped through television channels, and endlessly checked the time. Then she stood up and went to find Nick and her father.

“Okay, so we obviously can’t stay here forever but this also doesn’t have to be house arrest, so I suggest we go out. See what’s nearby. Do something fun.”

Ryland shrugged. “I’m down.”

Quinn nodded. “Good enough for me. Let’s go for a drive.”

They piled into her car, Nick at the wheel, and drove around to see, well, not much of anything. Some gas stations, some restaurants, and as the evening approached, she saw it. Exactly what she needed. “Bar! Pull in.”

The silence in the car was awkward, to say the least. Everyone was thinking about the elephant in the passenger seat. Jeremiah raised his hands and waved away their worries. “I’ve been tested before. The lord will give me strength.”

Quinn shrugged and hopped out. “Sure. Nick?”

He came up beside her and held the door open for the ladies to walk through. Last was Jeremiah.

Quinn strolled over to the bar, ordered two glasses of whiskey, and headed over to the jukebox with some change. She grinned when she found what she wanted, then turned and gave Nick what she hoped was her sexiest look. She hooked her fingers and beckoned him near her while ‘You Shook Me All Night Long’ by AC/DC played over the speakers.

“Get drunk and dance with me,” she said.

Nick gladly does so, he whispers in her ear if only her father and his daughter were not here. They spend some time having shots and playing pool, darts. Lots of dancing. Quinn jokingly asking Nick about tattoos and the kinds she has always wanted.

They make it back home, thanks to Jerry. Nick and Quinn giggle a lot and Nick almost falls into the wall, he lays on the couch saying he just needs a minute but instantly passes out.

Jerry looks at that, “Quite the Prince Charming…”

Quinn threw her head back and laughed when Nick fell out on the couch but the movement made her lose her balance and she stumbled backward into her father, who caught her in his arms. “Whoa there,” he said into her ear with a chuckle. He helped her right herself and then led her by the arm to the stairs. “How ‘bout we get you into bed?”

Quinn mumbled an incoherent response but she let him pick her up and cradle her like a child and damned if she didn’t snuggle into his neck like she used to as a little girl. Before the drinking and proselytizing and trauma. He still wore the same aftershave.

He carried her up the stairs and laid her in bed, then got to work removing her shoes. “You’ll be feelin’ this in the morning,” he warned her, his voice gravelly and gentle. “I’ll bring you some Aspirin and a water.”

She reached out and grabbed his hand, pulling him back to her side. “Dad?”

He stopped and looked down at her, patiently waiting for her to go off on him again or say something that kicked him right in the heart. Instead she kept holding on, her fingers intertwined with his, her eyes halfway closed though she tried to stay awake.

“I know you only went with Nick to protect him,” she murmured. “And you saved our asses back at the diner.”

Jeremiah felt a lump in his throat. His eyes shone with emotion. “It’s alright, sweetie.”

She shook her head, her hair a tangled mess on the pillow. “No. I shouldn’t have hit you.”

He cleared his throat and gave her a smile. “I’ve had it coming for a while now.”

She closed her eyes and sighed deeply when he covered her with a blanket. Felt him brushing her hair back from her face and heard him setting her heels by the door. When he was halfway into the hallway, she curled into a ball and turned to the other side, her back to him. “Night, Daddy.”

He cleared his throat. Again. When he spoke, his voice cracked a bit. “Good night, baby.”

He crept his way down the stairs to get her a pill and a bottle of water but she was out by the time he got back, so he left them on the nightstand. He closed the door quietly behind him and took his place on the couch opposite Nick’s, a small smile on his face. She’d regret it in the morning, he was sure, but damned if it didn’t warm his heart for the time being.

He drifted off to sleep with his head facing the front door, his pistol ready at his side. Just in case.

Nick woke up next morning, he groaned and wished he was 19 again because the healing it took to recover from a night of drinking was a lot harder, the older you got.

Ryland was watching tv and sitting on Nicks couch, cereal in hand. She hands her dad a bottle of water, he sits up and thanks barely can be heard comes out. He downs the water, Ryland swallows her food and says, “Quinn said thank you to her dad. Pretty sweet.”

Nick gets up and goes into the kitchen, Jerry is there with coffee for him. Nick takes it appreciatively. Jerry chuckles, “Maybe you and Quinn should go out on the town, kick up your heals.”

“Ryland..” Nick reminds him, grabbing an orange. Jerry looks at her, “I will watch her, she will be perfectly safe. You can’t have these criminals rule your life or they win.”

Quinn’s head was pounding. Her hair was a mess. She stumbled to the mirror, still feeling halfway drunk, and rubbed at her eyes. She wasn’t letting Nick see her like this.

She jumped in the shower, brushed her teeth, and threw on a tank top and a pair of shorts. She only saw the Aspirin and the bottle of water when she turned to close the door behind her. She wavered, then cursed to herself and took the pill.

She couldn’t believe she’d apologized. As if he didn’t deserve a punch to the face. She was a sloppy, loving drunk and she hated it. It was so unlike Sober Quinn. Sober Quinn kept those feelings locked up in a deep, dark room and survived on spite alone. No more drinking, she promised herself.

She walked into the kitchen and saw all eyes on her. Nick and Ryland told her good morning while her father waved politely and held out a mug of coffee. “Here you go, Sug’. I can whip up some eggs to fill your belly. Ought to help.”

Her stomach lurched and twisted at the thought of food. Nick laughed when she groaned, then watched as she took the coffee from her father without a thanks or much acknowledgement at all. As if the night before had never happened.

“I, uh…” This headache wasn’t going away. “I should call Miller. I owe him that much. Check on Lurch.”

Nick looks at her walk off, he grabs his coffee and follows her. She is on the phone outside on the deck. He goes up to her, “I heard you thanked him. You may have been drunk but usually drunk talk is the stuff you want to say but too chicken shit to do while sober.”
She looks at him, he goes up to her “Your dad suggested I take you out but I know you really want a hotel room and me pounding your brains out. I also really want to do that.”

Quinn had been meaning to call Miller for a while now. She felt awful about having left him without an explanation. She may have only known him for a handful of months, but she trusted him. When she called, he picked up on the first ring.

“Detective Miller, NYPD,” his smooth, carefree voice answered.

She envied his calm. Always so zen and friendly. “Hey, Miller.”

She could hear the hinges of his office chair squeaking on the other end. He’d bolted out of his chair upon recognizing her voice. “Holy hell, Gallagher? That you?”

She smiled. “Hey, stud. You alone?”

“I can be. Hold on.”

She waited a few seconds and heard a door close and shut. Then he spoke. “Okay, tell me why I’m in a broom closet right now. Christ, Gallagher, I kept calling. Whose phone are you calling from, anyway?”

“A burner,” she answered. “Look, I can only say so much, but we’re safe and we’re laying low. I can’t tell you where but it’s all good.”

“Absolutely not, Gallagher,” he said, his tone dripping with clear agitation. “You’re the most TMI, brutally honest person I know, and suddenly you run off with your man and his kid and all I get is, I’m good?”

Quinn lowered her head in guilt. “Miller, I’m sorry. You’re the only one I can trust right now aside from Nick, Ryland, and my friggin’ dad.”

“Your dad? I thought you hated the guy!”

“Yeah, well, it’s complicated. I don’t want to drag you into this.”

“It’s a little late for that, Gallagher. The captain’s been breathing down my neck, asking where you are and who you’re with.”

Her heart skipped a beat. Was it the captain? Was he compromised? “What’d you tell him?”

“That it was none of my business, kid. Now, who’s after you?”

She wanted so badly to tell him everything but she couldn’t. He didn’t deserve to have this resting on his shoulders. “Just some people. We’re keeping each other safe. So, Captain Greene? Would you say he was a little too curious or just the right amount of curious? Oh, also, how’s Lurch?”

“Are you implying that he’s involved with whoever’s after you? That’s quite a stretch, kid, and the cat’s fine. Weird segue, by the way.”

“Well, look, save this number, okay? Call me if anyone’s acting weird. Trust no one. Nick’s friend was in witness protection and was murdered because he trusted the authorities, so I’m not taking any chances.”

She heard a heavy sigh on the other end. He wanted to grill her, she knew. But he got the gist: it was bad. “Jesus Christ, Gallagher. Be careful. Call me, even just to tell me you’re alive. And if you need anything, I’ve got you.”

Quinn smiled into the phone. “I think I love you, old man.”

He snorted. “Don’t charm me; I’m still mad at you. Nick better be worth this mess.”

She thought for a moment. Nick was pretty damned great, but she wasn’t completely sure how she felt. She’d never gotten this far with anyone before. “He seems to be. But hey, if you slept with him, you’d follow him too.”

He groaned. “Glad you’re having fun. I’m hanging up now. Kid, be careful.”

She spotted Nick as he made his way over. “You know it. Love you. Bye.”

——-

Quinn couldn’t help the grin that stretched across her face when he suggested a night away. Now there was an idea. Suddenly her headache wasn’t so bad.

She stepped closer and draped her arms over his shoulders while his hands went for her waist. “Sounds perfect.”

He leaned down to kiss her and she returned it with gusto, wishing they were already in a hotel somewhere. They had quiet, hushed sex in the Airbnb — she wanted to be vocal and wild, to lose herself and not care who heard her. To put all of this hell out of her mind for one blissful night.

She gazed up at him and bit her lip. “Only if it’s depraved. We have to be quiet and vanilla here. When we get where we’re going, you’d better do things to me that are illegal in thirty states.”

Nick and Quinn go off to dinner and hotel. They actually skipped the dinner and went right to the hotel, their is always room service. They didn’t leave the bed, if it wasn’t needed.

Quinn is once again yelling out and gripping the side of the bed, while Nick is eating her out. He stops when she’s done and kisses his way back up, he lays back next to her, “I wonder how much louder you could go, surprised no one came knocking on the door last night.”

Quinn laughed, still feeling the orgasm coursing through her body, twisting her hips to enhance the convulsions between her legs. “Believe me, it took a lot of self control,” she replied, and then she was kissing her way down his body. She stopped to admire the lean muscle, the softness of his chest, how he had that delicious, defined V leading down to his cock. It hovered at half mast, swollen and ready for her mouth.

She locked eyes with Nick and closed her lips around the head of his dick, running her tongue ever so gently beneath it. His breath hitched and he leaned his head back, enjoying the sensations. She got to work with a teasing, unhurried pace, moving her mouth on him while her hands caressed his abs, his thighs, pulling them further apart so she could give due attention to his scrotum. Then she was back to taking him in deep, feeling his cock at the back of her throat, her tongue darting out to lick his balls at the same time.

“Oh, fuck,” he groaned, and god, he was so sexy. She rose and lay back on the bed, her head hanging off the side. “You think that’s good? Come here.”

He stood fully erect and walked over to where she wanted him. “Fuck it,” she said to him, and then her mouth was on him again. She was deep-throating him upside down, her hand reaching between his legs to squeeze his balls while the other grabbed hold of his hips and brought him closer. He got the message and hovered over her, watching her swallow him whole and withdraw again. He decided that if she wanted him in control, she’d get it. He pushed his cock deep inside her mouth, hovered there for a moment until her eyes began to water, and then he pulled away. She was breathing heavily, a devilish smile on her face. “That’s it, baby,” she panted. “You’re gonna fuck every hole before the night is over.”

He lost it then, picking up the pace, his hand reaching between her legs to rub her clit while she sucked the soul out of him. He stopped before he could come and grabbed her by the hips, flipping her over and yanking her legs until they were wrapped around his waist. Her front half remained on the bed while he lifted the rest of her in the air and began to fuck her where he stood. Each thrust was deep, hitting her in just the right places, and she screamed without abandon as he hammered into her.

He pushed her forward and twisted her until she was on her stomach and he was right behind her, his hands shoving her legs apart roughly. “Nick,” she whimpered, and he watched as she writhed, her pussy wet and ready for him. Why wasn’t he inside her yet? She looked back and licked her lips. “Nick, I swear to god, if you don’t start fucking me-“

He slid in and slammed deep, causing her to swallow her words and cry out something unintelligible. She worked her hips against him, desperate to feel every inch. He spanked her between movements, her ass one shade of red and covered in his handprints, marking her as his. She told him to do it harder, faster, deeper, and he obliged her until she came again. Her pussy convulsed around him as he pressed his lips to her ear from behind. He grabbed a handful of her ponytail and jerked her head back to look at him.

“Where do you want me to cum?” Nick whispered, and his voice was deep and smooth as butter and dripping with sin as she mewled beneath him.

“My ass,” she blurted out, trying desperately to catch her breath. “Fuck, baby, I don’t think I can do this again.”

He grinned. Finally she was overwhelmed. She could scream here, moan as loudly as she want, and do all the dirty talk that made her pussy flood with desire. He got up and made his way over to the bag he’d brought with him. Quinn peered behind her but that earned her a painful smack on the ass. When he returned he held a bottle of lube and a double-ended dildo. She smirked and quirked her brow at him. “Oh, so you’re a freak freak,” she quipped.

The fire in his eyes was invigorating to watch. He lubed up his dick and then inserted one end of the dildo into her pussy. She started breathing hard again, squirming her hips in ecstasy, anxious for what came next. He shoved a pillow beneath her pelvis, lifting her to just the right height for depth, and then he pushed his cock into her ass slowly and smoothly. She gasped and her body went still. “Holy fuck,” she whimpered. “Nick, fuck! Yes, oh my god, that’s amazing.”

He filled her in both ways, his knees on either side of her as he pushed his way into her, as he reached behind himself and pushed the dildo deeper. In, out, in, out. When she cried out for more, he gave it to her. Picked her up by the hips and held her back against his chest, his movements gentler. Then he pushed her onto her side and entered her again.

“Rub your clit,” he demanded, and she did just that. Her entire body was flushed pink, her hair matted and frizzed with sweat, and she was absolutely fucking losing herself for him. She’d never felt anything like this. So full, so engaged, so his.

She took control of the dildo while he put her on her back, legs raised, his dick buried in her ass. The slight level of pain when he dove deep, the feeling of being stretched apart from the inside, it was too much. Too good.

“Nick,” she whined. “You have no idea how good this feels. Holy shit. I’m gonna come again.”

Her eyes were closed because she was enjoying herself but he told her to look at him. She got lost in his eyes when he came in close and kissed her, his hips moving in circles against her. It was then, during the most tender of moments, that she came. She was certain she’d nearly shattered his eardrums with the cries that she let out. She trembled and twisted beneath him, taking all of him, her voice hoarse and high pitched as she spewed curses right and left.

Then he fucked her harder and took control of the dildo again, a smirk on his face as he watched her come undone. He came at last, filling her deep with his release, and then he laid himself across her chest to catch his breath.

He looked down at her and then he said what he’d brought her here to say: “Think we can make nice now?”

She was confused for only a second before she understood. She stared at him and scrunched her face. “Nick, are you really talking about my dad when your dick is in my ass?”

He laughed and pulled out, then lay beside her.  Because she couldn’t help it, she snorted and laid her arm across his chest. “So we came here just so you could fuck the bitch out of me?”

When he shrugged, she laughed harder. Then she considered. “I think it worked.”

They came back in the door the next day, Nick mentioned he would bring the luggage upstairs and he does so. Jerry was in the kitchen, showing Ryland how to make a pie. They look to see Quinn and say hello. Jerry can't help but notice the glow, the cheeriness in his daughters presence. Nick comes in and opens the fridge, deciding what to have. Jerry couldn't help but narrow his eyes at the tattooed man. Nick just decides on some iced tea and goes past Jerry to get a glass, he glances at him and sees the slight glare.

Nick cannot help but smirk slightly, opens his can of iced tea and pours it into the glass. He takes a victory drink and wants to laugh more, but holds back, his daughter is in the room. Ryland looks at her dad, "how was your night away?" Nick sits down, "It was much needed, what did you do all night?" Jerry perks up, "we played a game of chess." Nick nods, "Did she beat you?" Jerry goes silent, Ryland smiles proudly, " I sure did, he thought I didn't know how to play and I made him believe it."

Nick smiles at his daughter, he looks to Jerry, "She learned from the best..."

Quinn was still riding the high from her date night with Nick. She was sore in certain places and she was almost positive his handprints were still all over her ass because she twitched a bit when she sat down at the dinner table. Nick caught her eye and smirked. Goddamn, that man and the way he looked at her. He knew the effect he had on her; too.

She snapped out of her haze when her dad spoke. “Quinn ain’t so bad at Chess either, so maybe y’all can play together.” He looked at his daughter and tried to ignore her flushed cheeks and repeated glances at Nick. “Ahem. You played recently, Quinn?”

Quinn smiled. She’d had all the attitude fucked out of her and she was in her happy place, so she didn’t mind being polite. She’d promised Nick, anyway. “No, sir. Not recently. But I’d be glad to play.”

She could feel Nick’s smug gaze upon her. She reached her foot across the floor and bumped his foot from under the table. A silent gesture. Message received.

———

A few hours later, it was time for dinner. Quinn decided to cook, and funnily enough it happened to be her father’s favorite meal: homemade biscuits, sausage gravy, and bacon on the side.

Nick and Ryland were watching television together in the other room while she worked. She’d assured them she didn’t need any help and to just enjoy her overly cheery disposition until it was gone again.

While the biscuits rose in the oven, she crumbled sausage into the skillet and waited for it to get a nice sear while she washed her hands. Her father wandered in shortly thereafter; he’d been soaking up the sun in the lawn chair outside.

He had an odd look on his face when he realized what she was doing. Then he smiled, but there was a twinge of sadness in there somewhere. He blinked and looked away for a moment. “Your mama made the best damned biscuits and gravy. Remember that?”

She nodded, thinking fondly of her mother. She checked in from time to time but ever since there’d been danger at their backs, she was more concerned with keeping watch than keeping up with all the mundane goings-on. “I do. Aunt Dee used to request it all the time. Mom taught me how.”

Ryland stepped into the kitchen next and sniffed the air. “Mmm. Sausage.”

Jerry beamed at her. “Not just sausage, doll. This here is biscuits and gravy, a southern delicacy. It’ll stick to your ribs and it don’t cost much but it’s divine. My wife made the best around and I’ve tried making it since. Can’t quite get it right.”

Quinn lifted up the measuring cup she’d filled earlier and waved it in front of him. “The secret is bacon grease.” She spun around and pointed the wooden spoon at Ryland. “It’s damn near always bacon grease.”

The kid laughed and then so did Nick, standing proudly behind his daughter while Quinn taught her father how to make the meal he hadn’t properly had in nearly fifteen years. Jeremiah smiled from ear to ear as Quinn taught him how to do the one thing he’d refused to do back in the day.

She didn’t miss the irony.

She was patient when he asked questions, though, because she was trying to put it all behind her. If he was trying, so could she. “Now just salt and pepper?”

“And red pepper flakes.”

“Spice rack?”

“No, sir. Counter.”

“Ah. You already got ‘em out.” He looked at her for a second and gently nudged her with his elbow. “You can just call me Dad.”

She shrugged. “Force of habit. It was kind of mandatory back in the day.” She reached for the plates and handed them to him. “Dinner’s served.”

When they sat at the table, Ryland looked down at her plate for a second and poked at a biscuit half with a river of gravy on top. She decided to start with what was familiar and bit into a crispy piece of bacon while Jeremiah and Nick dug in.

Her father threw his head back and raised his hands in the air like he was in prayer. His eyes were filling up again before he dabbed at them with a napkin. He was quite the emotional guy when he wasn’t drunk.

“Just like your mama’s,” he said gleefully, already cutting off another piece of biscuit and dunking it in gravy. He met his daughter’s gaze and smiled. “Thank you, sweetie.”

She knew he wasn’t only talking about the food but she nodded anyway. “No biggie, Dad.”