KAT: aww thank you, San, very glad to have appeased you
KAT: if I could always walk around in a costume, I would. Well, I suppose I could but it might be a little odd in a non endearing way
EVA: sorry, sorry, i didn't stay at that little party for long and just drank. a lot. my bad.
EVA: you being a kitty is pretty spot on. did you take any pictures at least?
EVA: if not, what would it take to get you back in that costume?
KAT: uh oh, why were you drinking a lot? or do you need some bottomless mimosas to answer that question?
KAT: [ sends her four photos of her in her black cat costume ]
KAT: i love costumes! so all you'd have to do is ask π
was I invading in on your secret, was I too close to comfort || KATRICK
tagging: Patrick Flanagan ( @patrick-flanagan ) & Kat Jones
date & time: October 31, 2024 sometime at night
location: Somewhere in The Spare Room
warnings: none!
summary: After a brief moment of reconnection in Patrick's classroom, Patrick finds Kat the the Halloween party to confront her about why she ran away.
word count: 1,403
PATRICK FLANAGAN
[He's been avoiding her the entire night, even if he hasn't been able to keep his eyes off of her, but the two glasses of whiskey that he's had has given him a bit of liquid courage, and he makes a decision right then and there, walking straight up to Kat, pulling on her hand and bringing her over to a quiet corner.] What did I do wrong earlier?
KAT JONES
[hadn't seen Patrick, yet. This didn't really seem like his kind of thing anyway. But after what happened between them and her reaction, she wasn't sure she could face him right now. So, maybe it was for the best that she hadn't spotted him. Just as she got comfortable she was being pulled somewhere and if he hadn't been so familiar to all of her senses she would have panicked] Patrick, you can't just- [she looked at him her eyes darting back and forth trying to look at both of his at the same time] Nothing, I- I just had to go and get ready for this...
PATRICK FLANAGAN
[Furrowing his eyebrows, he tries to search for an answer in Kat's face, not understanding anything.] You're telling me that this was more important than- you know what, this tracks. Was your little in-ear piece going off, were you being told to go back to your little FBI crew? I'm surprised your walkie talkie didn't make any noises.
KAT JONES
[this was her own fault. If she could just tell him what happened, then he wouldn't be reverting to this, again. God, she had just managed to see a little of her Patrick again and now she was watching him slip away] Please Patrick, that's not it. [she couldn't help but reach out to touch his hand, still feeling that electricity as her fingers found his] Please don't push me away. [she looked up at him, her eyes pleading]
PATRICK FLANAGAN
[Rolling his eyes, Patrick is so close to giving up, he reaches up and scratches his temple.] Then tell me how this was more important. [He gestures to the room, but she grabs his hand and it catches his attention.] You know, I wouldn't have come here tonight, had you not run out on me like that. I would've- it doesn't matter what I would've done. But I would've spent the night with you alone.
KAT JONES
I know. [And she had known. That was the reason she had left so quickly. It was obvious where they were going and it's what she wanted and she didn't know she was going to panic like that. But she had and now he thinks he did something wrong, when the truth was, it was her. She didn't want him to see her the way that she was now. She didn't want him to see the scars that hadn't been there before. Logically she knew they weren't that unsightly, the surgeons did a wonderful job and they've healed beautifully, but to her, they were the igliest things she'd ever seen and she hadn't quite worked out why she thought that yet.] It wasn't about this party and it wasn't about you, It was me. I wanted to- I want you, but I'm different.
PATRICK FLANAGAN
[He's growing more and more frustrated and impatient by the fact that she's saying so many things, but not actually talking to him. He just stands there, listening to her excuse, and yet again, rolls his eyes. His hand leaves hers, and instead, he leans it up against the wall behind her, caving her in.] Was it more exciting before? When you were working undercover and scoping out all of my deepest and darkest secrets? Did it turn you on, knowing that your team was sitting in a van somewhere on the street, listening in on everything we did? [He knows he is being horrible and unfair, but this is his way of coping.]
KAT JONES
[Had been surprised with Patrick's reapperence in her life. It had led her to do things before she really thought them through, but she should have been prepared for him to hit her where it hurt. Should have known he wouldn't be kind, that he wouldn't hold her hand or pull her close. That there wouldn't be a dozen tulips waiting at her door. He was so close to her and he never felt further away. She was desperate to bring him back to her. She wanted to kiss him and make it right but she knew the same thing would happen. She would panic and she still wouldn't be able to explain it. She just needed a little time to work up the courage to tell him the truth. For now though, she reached up and held his face in her hand, her thumb tracing his cheekbone.] They never heard anything you told me, they were never in those moments. It was always just us, Patrick.
PATRICK FLANAGAN
[All he wants to do is lean in and put his lips to hers, kiss her the way he'd kissed her earlier that day in his classroom. But he doesn't do it; his anger, his frustration is pulsating through his body, and it's enough to keep him from giving in to his primal impulses. Instead, he shakes his head.] You're not different. If what you're saying is true, about you not working for the FBI, then you're not different. There's just nothing in it for you anymore. The thrill of the chase is gone for you, Kat. I'm not going to get you off anymore. Not like I used to, because there's no reward for you to reap afterwards.
KAT JONES
[Hearing him reduce their relationship down to less than nothing for her, made her sad but more surprisingly it made her mad. Removing her hand from his face, she stood up straighter and set her jaw, anger in her eyes now.] Don't you dare tell me that what we had was nothing more than, than a damn adrenaline rush. [It wasn't after that Kat cursed, it felt too harsh to her when she said it, but sometimes it gave the exact right tone.] Something happened to me, Patrick. Something after you and it broke me! [She hadn't meant to get loud or in his face, but she wasn't about to let him say she wasn't in love with him when she was, she is.]
PATRICK FLANAGAN
[He is ready to give up, go back to him ignoring her, avoiding her on campus and walking the other way whenever he sees her, but then she bites back at him, and his jaw clenches. He isn't expecting that, but he also still isn't convinced.] Why won't you just tell me, Kat? [His voice is raised too, and he retracts his arm, standing up straight like her, to match her energy.] Why won't you talk to me?
KAT JONES
Because it isn't easy to talk about, not even to you, maybe especially to you. [She was breathing heavy and then as if on cue, her leg and back started to hurt and she leaned against the wall, trying to hide a wince and failing. It was embarrassing and she felt the flush rush over her face and the more aware of it she was, the worse it got and she started to feel anger again and she wanted it to go away. The pain, the anger, the trauma, all of it. Wanted to see if Patrick could make it go away. Closing her eyes for a moment she took in a deep breath and then exhaled.] This isn't the right time or place to tell you. I just can't tell you in the middle of a bar on Halloween while I'm dressed like a cat.
PATRICK FLANAGAN
[What the hell did that mean?! 'Especially to you'? Patrick scoffs, taking a step away and looking around the room, not seeing Kat's struggle, until he looks back and sees that she's leaning against the wall, breathing heavily. His eyebrows furrow in worry, until she says she can't talk to him about it now. He lets out a deep defeated sigh.] Fine. You know what? Find me when you're ready to tell me. Although, I'm sure you'll easily find another reason to not talk to me then too. [He steps away again, not bothering to even say goodbye.]
show me who you are, sweet to me, like sugar to my heart || KATRICK
tagging: Patrick Flanagan ( @patrick-flanagan ) & Kat Jones
date & time: October 31, 2024 late afternoon
location: Patrick's classroom
warnings: none!
summary: Kat tries to extend an olive branch in the form of her famous brownies, to Patrick in hopes of building that trust with him again, but they fall back into something just for Kat to bring them right back out of it.
word count: 4,339
KAT checked her Velma bob and glasses before taking her secret pan of brownies out from her desk drawer. Had they been anywhere a student or colleague could see, they would all be gone and she made these for someone specific. Patrick- Professor Flanagan, and she was trying to tell herself they were just a welcome to LA and to teaching pan of brownies. But she knew, and he would probably know, that they were and excuse to see and maybe talk to him. After all these brownies were perfected for Patrick, three years ago. It was a little manipulative but she had already justified it. So, she grabbed the pan and before she could talk herself out of it, she walked to his classroom, thankful her body wasn't in pain as she did. Even though she knew he wouldn't have anymore classes for the day, she still found herself exhaling in relief when he was alone. She knocked, just so he would look up, and walked down to his desk, smiling. God, he still made her heart swell in her chest. And she was so nervous. They had a nice conversation online though, so maybe she was nervous for nothing. "Nice costume." She said light heartedly, the brownies in her hands all but forgotten the second he was in her view.
PATRICK didnβt hear her footsteps at first, too deep in a stack of documents he needed to comb through before his next meeting. It wasnβt until he caught a flicker of movement out of the corner of his eye that he looked up, one eyebrow lifting as Kat walked in with a smile. She looked nervous, though she was trying to hide it, and he couldnβt help but let his gaze drift over the costume, down to the pan of brownies she carried. "Kat,β he greeted coolly, sitting back and folding his arms as if she were just another one of his students on the verge of a poor excuse. βDidnβt realize you were the type for office visits." It was a small, careful tease; he was still figuring her out since they reconnected online. βBringing treats for the faculty, are we?β he said, keeping his voice neutral but laced with enough sharpness that he hoped sheβd take the hint. The sight of her here, in his space, tugged up memories heβd worked hard to bury - the casino, the sting, the long nights in lockup. Now, here she was, pretending like a pan of brownies would smooth it all over. The scent of them were...deceivingly delicious though. Sighing, Patrick stood up from his seat, and walked in front of his desk, sitting down on it and folding his arms over his chest. βYou look good.β
KAT felt a little bit of that weight lift as he seemed more open to talking to her now. Or at least not actively trying to get away at the sight of her. It wasn't lost on her that she hadn't seem him, even when she was looking for him. She wasn't dumb, he was probably spotting her first and avoiding her. But now his tone was teasing, almost... light, it made her smile at his words. "Well, new faculty, in your department, that teach in this very classroom. Which, turns out, is just you." She knew he probably just wanted her to put the brownies down and leave, she could hear a, don't get too comfortable, behind every word he said to her. She did put the Pan down on his desk, off to the side so they weren't in his way. Her eyes followed him as he moved in front of his desk, closer to her than he had been before, than she thought he would be willing to. It took her by surprise, as he often did. Looking down at herself and all of her orange Velma glory, she smiled at his compliment. "Thank you, so do you." She said shyly. Suddenly, unsure of what she came here to say, he wasn't suppose to be this close, and he definitely wasn't suppose to compliment her like that. Now she was absentmindedly picking at her fingers nervously as she waited for him to take the lead. Like she use to back when all of this between them started. With that same spark, now a low burning ember between them.
PATRICK's eyes narrowed slightly, tracking her every movement. She was standing there, looking down, picking at her fingers like she didnβt know where to begin. It was surreal, seeing Kat with that little streak of vulnerability when sheβd once been so unyielding. Calculated, even. A piece of him - the cautious, wary piece that had kept him alive all those years - wanted to see this as some new angle she was playing. He took a slow breath. βWell, welcome to my kingdom then,β he said, his voice edged with a playful drawl. Patrick cleared his throat, glancing at the pan sheβd left on his desk, like he was deciding whether he could afford to let his guard down even a fraction. βYou know,β he said, voice softening just a touch, βitβs a bit on the nose to start showing up here with brownies - like Iβm some fresh-out-of-prison kid youβre trying to sweeten up.β His tone was laced with thick irony as his eyes flicked back to hers, searching, looking for any sign of why sheβd come here beyond that worn excuse of a 'faculty welcome.' The old part of him; the part that once trusted her, that thought maybe she couldβve been someone he could count on - surprised him as he reached out and placed a hand over hers, getting her to stop picking at her fingers for just for a moment. βBut just so you know,β he said, keeping his hand on top of hers, βI'm keeping that whole pan to myself.β For a moment, he felt that ember between them, that familiar feeling theyβd both kept buried, reignite.
KAT felt like they were exchanging a lot of olive branches. It was odd, like neither one of them was sure how to approach a simple conversation with each other. And considering that's how they started, she was a little thrown at both of their inabilities to settle back into that. But then he started to joke and tease in a way that felt more like her Patrick. Like the man she fell in love with and it make her feel more confident to showcase the woman he fell in love with. Sharp, perceptive, and sshe hoped beautiful. Smiling at the irony in his tone, she wasn't quite rid of her nerves but she could feel them dwindling. Then his hand was on hers and the picking immediately stopped and the atmosphere changed, or maybe that was wishful thinking or her imagination. Suddenly, she was filled with a boldness she hadn't had since the last time they were together and she laced her fingers with his, keeping eye contact. Scared that if she didn't he was vanish into thin air because this was a dream and she was going to wake up soon. Desperate to hold onto this moment, to this fanning flame, she stepped closer to him. "Good because you're the only one I made them for." Even though the words were innocent, she didn't feel it. Instead, he breath felt heavy between them and she found her eyes finally moving from his to look down at his mouth and she licked her bottom lip before he eyes returned to his ocean blue onces.
PATRICK felt her fingers lace with his, and for a second, the world seemed to pause. Her touch was warm, a little unsteady, and in that small gesture, he saw a glimpse of everything theyβd been before things fell apart. He couldnβt help the way his eyes searched her face, taking in the soft determination there, the spark heβd almost forgotten but had never quite let go of. He let out a quiet exhale, both hands steady but his heart traitorously racing. The way she looked at him, that unguarded gaze, struck something in him heβd tried hard to keep buried. And then her words - 'youβre the only one I made them for' - rang in his ears, cutting through the years of bitterness and mistrust. It wasnβt lost on him that they were both standing on precarious ground here, balancing somewhere between a truce and something else entirely. βWell,β he murmured, voice dropping lower, a mix of amusement and something warmer sneaking into his tone, βIβd almost think you meant that.β He raised an eyebrow, letting his thumb brush across her knuckles, a small, tentative touch he knew he probably shouldnβt indulge in. But he couldnβt stop himself, not when she was looking at him like that, like nothing had ever happened, like they were just them again. The breath between them was heavy, loaded, and he could feel the question hanging in the air - unsaid, but pulling them both closer. His gaze dropped to her lips, but he forced himself to keep that last sliver of distance, his voice barely above a whisper as he said, βYouβve still got that habit of making things complicated, donβt you?β But there was no anger there. Just a low, warm intensity he couldnβt quite hide, a reminder of all the things that had once felt right between them.
KAT forgot the effect that accent had on her when he spoke in that low tone. Instantly, she recognized it, the first time he kissed her he sounded the same. It made it hard to breath, to speak, to hear. All she could do was feel. Each atom she was made up of buzzed. A part of her she hadn't experienced in years had risen from the depths of her essence, at just the soundof his voice. Without her permission, he eyes fluttered closed, just for a moment, as she felt his thumb move across her knuckles. It felt warm, but it wasn't in the air around her, it was from her heart pumping blood to all of her extremities seemingly faster than normal. It was from his touch, it was from his voice. It was from his smell, from his closeness. From him. All she could do was watch him, try to catch every micro expression that crossed his face. Then his eyes dropped to her mouth and she couldn't stop herself from licking her bottom lip, like she was preparing for what she refused to admit she wanted. Not flitching away once she truly felt how close they were, if she just tugged him off that desk, she could have what he body so clearly wanted, what she hadn't known she missed, and craved again. "Only when it's worth it." And there was no mistaking the want in her tone. And she moved impossibly closer, wanting him to pull her the rest of the way in and remind her body of how pleasure felt.
PATRICK's resolve wavered, and that was all it took. Her words - 'Only when itβs worth it' - echoed through him, pulling him into a familiar haze heβd tried to forget. She was so close, her eyes half-lidded, her lips parted, and he could practically feel the heat radiating off her skin. This moment had crept up on him, dragging him back into a past he thought heβd buried deep. But right now, it felt like all those walls heβd built had cracked, leaving him caught in the pulse between them. Slowly, he leaned in, just enough that their breaths mingled, giving her one last chance to pull away. When she didnβt, his fingers shifted, catching her chin lightly, tilting her face toward his. His thumb brushed over her cheek, almost unconsciously, as his gaze dipped to her lips, and without a word, he closed the final inch of space between them. The kiss was slow, almost hesitant, a cautious return to something they both remembered but couldnβt fully trust. His lips brushed hers once, twice, like he was reacquainting himself with the feel of her, testing if this - if they - were real. And then the warmth between them intensified, his hand slipping to the back of her neck, pulling her in as if he were starving for a part of himself he hadnβt even known heβd been missing. He could stay there forever, having missed the particular feeling of kissing her. But he also needed to breathe. When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against hers, his voice barely more than a murmur. βDo you have anywhere you need to be?"
KAT had always been very good at tucking parts of herself away. So good, in fact, that even she would forget those parts of her self existed. It was what made her so successful undercover, and what kept her in the Bureau for so long. Rarely was she smacked in the face, completely unprepared to be reunited with something she'd hidden. But as her former lover leaned in, so close she could feel his breath meeting hers, she felt an exhilarating chill run down her spine as he made it impossible for her to look anywhere but into his eyes. Finally, his lips touched hers and she hadn't done this in three years. It made her cautious in her movements, not quite sure she remembered how to do this. But she leaned into each kiss, feeling a natural rhythm form between them. As the kiss went from soft and exploratory to something solid and definitive, her hands found their way to his body and she pulled him in as he pulled her in. This isn't what she had come here for, she should stop this, but instead she opened her mouth, inviting him in to deepen the kiss. To remind her of this part of herself, just like he had the first time. But then his lips weren't on hers anymore, and she was breathing heavy, having not even noticed she'd been holding her breath the whole time. As he spoke, her eyes were closed and she was sure he could feel her heart beat in her chest. Every part of her was warm and her lips tingled, like they were trying to memorize what he felt like. "No." She replied breathlessly, pressing her body into his, desperate for more as she draped her arms over his shoulders.
PATRICK's grip tightened at her waist, feeling her press against him with that same unmistakable intensity he remembered. The years between them melted in an instant, replaced by the pull that had always been there, simmering beneath the surface. Heβd been certain that time would blunt the edge of it, dull that need - but here she was, breathless and close, a reminder of everything heβd let himself forget. He couldnβt help a low chuckle as he felt her arms wrap over his shoulders. βCareful now,β he murmured, letting his hand trail along her back, fingers pressing gently as if to mark this moment in his memory. βYou keep that up, and weβll be here all night.β His voice held a quiet warning, but it was layered with a warmth he couldnβt quite contain, betraying how much he wanted to keep this moment for as long as he could. Sheβd been his undoing once, and though the part of him that clung to self-preservation whispered at him to pull back, to let her go before he fell back into the tangle of their history, he didnβt. Instead, he found himself moving in once more, pressing his lips to the corner of her mouth, letting the softness there remind him of what heβd lost and, for this stolen moment, regained. His hand moved up, threading into her hair as he spoke, his voice rougher than before. βYou always did know how to get under my skin.β There was a half-smile in his eyes, one that softened the usual guardedness on his face. βAnd youβre playing a dangerous game showing up like this, Kat.β But he couldnβt deny the pull between them, and with that, he gave in, letting his lips find hers again, slower this time, like they had all the time in the world.
KAT was overwhelmed by ho it felt to be back in his arms. To be the object of his desire. The way he spoke, the way he touched her. The hand on her back leaving a trail of fire in it's path, while each word sent shivers through her body. The juxtaposition of it all was what was overwhelming. Had it always been like this with them? She hadn't just locked away her desires and fantasies when he went to prison, she'd locked away all of those memories. And for years, she kept it that way. Two weeks of knowing he was simply near and suddenly she had know self control. No ability to hold back, there was maybe still a sense of shyness or caution but it was greatly overshadowed by a wave of want for the man in front of her. As she felt his lips on her she sucked in a breath trying to keep herself upright as his hand move into her hair, and that voice. It sent waves of pleasure through her and it was so distracting that she didn't even notice that little twinge of something in the back of her brain, trying to warn her. But the chorus of moreand yesand please, was so much louder that the whisper trying to warn her that something was wrong. When he finally leaned back in, the warning was completely silenced by the memory of him, all of her kisses and the soft touch, all of the gifts an the lazy morning and the secret office rendevous. All of the intimate conversations, the hours spent memorizing every inch of each other's bodies. All of it was in the forefront of her mind and she put it all back into this moment, into this kiss. It was like overdosing on something you never thought you'd have again. Intoxicating and terrifying. But it was him, she had her Patrick back. With his softness, and tenderness and strength. All that she had been holding back, with just one kiss, she already wanted to give him all of her again. Mind, body and soul. Her fingered threaded in his hair, and she tugged gently, and she pushed her body flush against his, desperate to feel as much of him as she could. "More." She whispered against his mouth.
PATRICK felt the way she melted against him, her whisper of more threading into his mind, threatening to unravel whatever restraint he had left. Each touch, every breath between them, seemed to coax parts of himself heβd sworn to keep buried. She was here, tangible, pulling him in like gravity, and he couldnβt bring himself to resist. Not tonight, not with her hands in his hair, her body against his, and the quiet echoes of memories heβd tried to bury but couldnβt let go. He tightened his hold on her, letting his hand drift down her back, pulling her even closer. The feeling of her fingers tangled in his hair, her body pressed against his, brought him back to those stolen moments they used to share, hidden away from the world. The years and betrayals might have built walls around his heart, but right now, all of it felt like dust at his feet. Leaning in, he pressed his mouth to hers again, hungrily, giving her the 'more' that she asked for, and without another word, he turned her around, pressing her gently but firmly against the edge of his desk. His hands found her waist, sliding up to grip her hips as he leaned in, his body flush against hers, letting her feel every inch of him. He could sense her pulse racing, could feel the way she leaned into him, and it only fueled the fire that had been simmering between them. Pulling away from the kiss, like a magnet, he instantly brought his lips to the curve of her neck, pressing soft, lingering kisses along her skin before finding her mouth again, this time with more intensity, less restraint. One hand slid up her back, tangling in her hair as he tilted her head just enough to deepen the kiss, tasting the desperation and the familiar spark between them, igniting everything heβd tried to leave behind.
KAT gasped as she felt him switch their positions and firmly push her up against the desk. Her fingers released his hair and she moved her hands to either side of her, bracing herself against his desk and she moaned at the feeling of his hands on her body, his lips against hers, as his body came flush against hers, she chased his mouth for a second as he pulled away. Her disappointment at the loss of contact, quickly replaced with a gasp of pleasure at the feel of his lips against the sensitive skin of her neck. How had she gone so long without so much as thinking about this? How had she been able to lock him away in her mind, only letting him creep out in her dreams? How had someone, so all consuming been capable of being tucked away. Then she thought about all the dates she didn't go on, all the kisses she'd sidestepped, all the set up's she turned down. Even more than that, it was all the close conversations she refused to have, all the people she's kept at arms length, all the physical and emotional intimacy she had rejected. It dawned on her, that he had never stopped consuming her, it just looked different. That realization, suddenly had her feeling like he wasn't close enough, and without breaking their kiss, she got up on his desk, most certainly pushing things off in the process and wrapped her legs around his waist to pull him in as close as humanly possible. Her hands came up to tangle in his hair again, her tongue sliding against his. The closer they got, the more that little whisper she had silenced grew. But her senses were so full of Patrick, that whisper was going to have to shout for her to listen.
PATRICK was drowning in her - all the years between them dissolving with every touch, every breath. When she hopped up onto his desk, scattering papers and pens, and wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him even closer, he let out a low, rumbling groan that vibrated between them. He slid his hands up her thighs, pressing into the warmth of her skin through the fabric, feeling her pulse quicken in rhythm with his own. His mouth crashed back onto hers, more urgent now, his hand sliding from her thigh to the small of her back, pressing her to him as he leaned in, his own breath coming rougher, harder. It was almost surreal, to have her here again like this, feeling her heat against him, tasting her like no time had passed. She was his anchor and his undoing all at once. He could feel her hands in his hair, fingers tangling and tugging, urging him on, and he let himself give in, his mouth trailing down her jaw and back to that sensitive spot on her neck. The sounds she made only pushed him further, like an invitation to slip back into who they'd been before everything went to hell. His hands gripped her waist, pulling her flush against him as he felt the connection between them spark. He was sure that if she looked in his eyes now, she'd see everything - the heat, the ache, and the raw, unguarded longing heβd buried years ago. He couldn't stop himself from running a hand up her leg, underneath that orange skirt of hers, while the other moved to her front, knowing exactly what body part of hers fit perfectly in the cup of his hand. He wanted her so damn badly, he couldn't help the groan from coming out, low and pleased with what was happening.
KAT had been so lost in him, the way he pulled her in, the sounds he made, the sounds she made him make. It was so familiar and something brand new at the same time. God, she wanted to feel him inside of her again. Wanted her old memories replaced with a new one, wanted to see his face as their bodies melded into one again, and memorize it. take every inch on him because she didn't know if he would ever be this with her again after today, after right now. All she wanted was him. Then his hand was up her skirt and cupping his breast and that warning whisper that had been drowned out, turned to a clear shout. No, don't touch me don't touch me you'll see them, you'll be disgusted. I'm disgusting now. So quickly, that ran through her head. Suddently, she was hyper aware of his hands in a bad way. God, if he pulled up her sweater he'd see her scars, they'd stop him in his tracks. He wouldn't still want her, not once he realized she didn't look the same, that she was different. Not the woman he had loved. She started to panic, her breathing erratic, she untangled herself from him, pushed him away enough so she could get up and put as much space between them as possible. Adjusting her costume she couldn't get her breathing right. She had leave, now now. For a moment she looked at him, wanting to explain, wanting to say she was sorry, make up an excuse, anything, but instead she just ran out. Ran until the pain in her body, another unfortunate reminder just like her scars, became too much and she had to sit. In front of the building, she cried.
tagging: Patrick Flanagan ( @patrick-flanagan ) & Kat Jones
date & time: November 28, 2020 later in the day
location: Patrick's Office as his casino in Las Vegas
warnings: none!
summary: !! A FLASHBACK THREAD !! For the past few weks a tension has formed between Kat Hazel and Patrick and finally they do something about it.
word count: 2,813
PATRICK leaned back in his leather chair, eyeing Hazel over the top of his desk with that quiet intensity that he was known for. Her presence had grown on him more than he'd ever let on, even to himself. She was clever, charming, always anticipating his moves, yet there was a fire about her that he couldnβt ignore. As she stood across the desk, giving him her usual knowing look, he felt the urge to pull her in. Heβd never let anyone stick around this long, especially not this close. There was always a risk to letting people in, especially in his world, but somehow Hazel was the exception. Not just because she knew how to keep things quiet or do the job right - anyone could manage that - but because she had a way of looking at him, seeing past that hard exterior and not backing down. βGot a knack for making yourself useful, havenβt you?β he said, his tone softer than usual. The ghost of a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. Standing, he walked around the desk, taking his time. When he was close enough that he could smell the subtle perfume she wore, he leaned against the edge of the desk, arms crossed. She didnβt step back, didnβt falter. βStay a while,β he murmured, reaching out and brushing his fingers along her wrist. It was a gentle move, one that could be shrugged off if she wanted, but it felt bolder than anything heβd done in years. Tilting his head slightly, he locked his gaze on her, drawing her in. βThere's not a whole lot of company that I enjoy these days, but you, Hazel - youβre a rare find.β
KAT looked forward to being called into the bosses office. That sounds a lot more intense then it actually was. Their conversations were stimulating, they were also private and they felt.. intimate. It had been a very long time since she felt so close and open with someone and at first she had to admit, she thought this was just about sex for him and she hadn't been sure what she would do in that case, which ought to have concerned her much more than it did. But then a couple weeks passed and he hadn't so much as alluded to making a move. At least, not that she could tell, so she had grown comfortable. But in this last week she found herself, finding his eyes on the crowded floor, waiting for him to find a quiet moment to invite her to his office just to chat. Often time she forgot this wasn't her actual live and she had a mission. So as she stood in front of his desk today, she figured it would be more of the same and she was glad for their little routine conversations. She laughed at his question, noticing his soft tone and that little smile of his that she sometimes saw when she closed her eyes. Before she could say anything he was right in front of her, arms crossed, a stance she had to learn not to so openly appreciate, by looking him in the eyes instead. Suddenly the mood shifted, and she was looking down and where his fingers met her wrist and it felt like a lightening storm against her skin. Her breath hitched and she looked back up and to be met with such an intense look, she needed a reprieve. Maybe that's why when he spoke again, her eyes moved his mouth, then her mind was back on his finger on her skin, and she did something without thinking it all the way through. A rare occurrence for her, lacing their fingers together she moved in just a little closer. "I enjoy being around you too, Patrick." She could count on one hand the number of times she had used his name and not called him Boss or Mr. Flanagan. But now she looked into his eyes, hers just as intense as his.
PATRICK's pulse skipped at the way Hazel said his name - his name, not "Boss" or "Mr. Flanagan", not some title that kept a safe distance between them. Her fingers were laced in his now, the warmth of her touch stirring something unfamiliar in his chest. It had been a long time since anyone looked at him like that, with an intensity that wasnβt tainted by fear or obligation, but something deeper - something heβd almost forgotten how to recognize. His breath was slower, heavier than usual, and the distance between them suddenly felt paper-thin. Every instinct told him to hold back, to keep things neat, professional - safe. But her fingers were laced in his, warm and delicate, and he didnβt let go. Because he didn't do safe. When her lips parted just slightly, he was drawn in even closer, catching a glimpse of something vulnerable and real beneath her confident exterior. As her words lingered in the air, Patrick couldnβt look away. The controlled walls he kept around him, around this life, began to blur. She wasnβt supposed to matter this much, wasnβt supposed to get under his skin or make him wait on her next breath. But here they were, close enough that he could almost feel her heartbeat in sync with his own. He held her gaze, his thumb tracing slow, idle circles against the back of her hand. βHazel,β he murmured, his voice softened, laced with a touch of hesitancy he rarely allowed. βI know what weβve got here - our routine, these little meetings. But I think you know I donβt just call you here because you're a beautiful face.β Her lips were so close, he could feel her warm breath against his skin, and the look in her eyes held something he wasnβt used to seeing - something he never thought heβd have. The silence grew heavier between them, weighted with the tension of words left unsaid, feelings neither dared to name aloud. When he spoke next, his voice was barely above a whisper. βIf you stay here, this wonβt be something you can just walk away from.β
KAT knew she was walking a dangerous line as in. That even having just stayed that first time to talk to him, not telling her team about their growing relationship, not mentioning a single word to anyway about her time with the crime boss, was putting herself in a position she couldn't simply get herself out of. She was tangled in him. And every place those tangled strings touch was a moment where Kat made a decision that put her relationship with him over her job, over her safety, and out of her comfort zone. Every criss cross, every place she couldn't seperate without ripping the whole thing apart, was a moment of tenderness and intamcy that never should have happened. As she looked at this mental tapestry of tangles she couldn't help but think it was beautiful. As he said her name, she already knew where this was going and had decided before she'd even come into his office that it's exactly where she wanted to be. Where she had chosen to lead herself and despite all logical and rational, she regretted nothing. Not a single choice that got her here. So, as he whispered that last statement, and the tension between them was the highest it had ever been, she found her voice. Low and thick with the desire she had been so meticulous in hiding from him and even herself. "From the moment I first sat down in this office, I chose to stay." With that she put his hand on her waist, a final bold move from her. What happened next was up to him, she had made her choice and made it clear.
PATRICK's heart hammered as her words sank in, each one reverberating with a sense of commitment he hadnβt expected - and certainly hadnβt let himself hope for. βI chose to stay.β The words replayed in his mind, a quiet declaration that somehow tore down the last walls heβd held up between them. Sheβd put his hand on her waist, sealing her choice with that small, steady gesture. His grip tightened just a fraction, a silent promise in response. For the first time in years, Patrick was at a loss for control, and for once, he didnβt mind. She was here, right in front of him, every choice sheβd made leading her to this moment. She wasnβt the type to say something she didnβt mean, he knew that now, and therefore wasnβt one to step into danger without knowing the cost. And that knowledge - that she understood the risks, and still, somehow, wanted him - was enough to unravel him entirely. His fingers brushed lightly over her waist, the warmth of her presence grounding him as he searched her face, noting the quiet resolve mingled with an intensity heβd rarely seen.
His eyes flickered between her gaze and her lips, and his hands explored the way waist felt underneath his fingertips. The fabric of her top felt like a fire beneath his touch, and grip on it tightened once again, enough to turn his knuckles white. His hand cupped her cheeks and his thumb ghosted softly over her lips. Those fucking lips, red and full that were inviting him in, like a warm embrace full of affection that he hadnβt felt in many years, and he was terrified that if he looked away, the tug on his heart that he felt would suddenly go away. And all he wanted, was to drown himself in that feeling. But he couldnβt stop himself. He had to search her eyes again for reassurance. Had to know that if this was what she wanted, she would get it. And he found it. He found those deep dark brown eyes that had offered him stability whenever theyβd looked at him. The kind of stability that heβd never had before in his life. And here she was, reliant, loyal and wanting him, the way he wanted her. It was enough to have him lean in, his lips finding hers in a kiss that started soft but quickly deepened, fueled by every unspoken moment between them. He took his time, savoring the feel of her against him, the way he leaned further into his, his hand combing into her hair, needing her.
KAT watched as the man she has craved since the first time he let her in, drop his last defenses to match her own openness. Her own readiness to give into this moment between them. To maybe take this leap together and lose themselves in each other. The stakes were high for them both. They had everything to lose, so much more than Patrick even knew. As his hands on her waist went from almost tentative to something with confidence, she kept her eyes on him. Wanting him to know that she saw him, all of him, even the pieces he tried to hide. and she wanted him. Then his hand was on her cheek and her breath was staggered and her heart rate was erratic, and wondered if this it what it felt like to get high. If it was possible to be addicted to a person. What would she do if she couldn't see him everyday, if she never felt his thumb brush over her lips again. God, she needed him to close the distance between them, so when he searched her eye for non verbal consent she gave it. And what she saw in return was a mirror of want and need and desire and she knew he was going to lean in before he did. Yet, she still let out a soft moan as their lips moved together. Finding a natural rhythm just like they did in everything else. It was more than she had imagined in her dreams, in those moments before where she thought she could lean in and finally know what it would feel like. In those it was quick and sweet, or bruising and desperate, but this was... this was passion, this was intimate, this had her whimpering at the feel of his fingers against her scalp. Now that they had crossed this line, her brain just wamted more. Wanted everything he could give her. Feeling her body's need for air, she pulled away, reluctantly and breathed heavily. Her hands rested on his chest and she smiled, looking up at him, her hands coming up to his neck, he thumbs just under his jawbone, she connected their lips again with urgency.
PATRICK felt her hands slide up to his neck, her thumbs pressing gently beneath his jaw, and as she did so, the last remnants of his restraint dissolved. The intensity in her eyes - mixed with her urgency as she pulled him back in - ignited something deep in his chest, a desire that had been building quietly beneath all their stolen glances and guarded conversations. He responded to her kiss with the same urgency, his fingers threading through her hair as he pulled her closer, pouring into the kiss every unspoken word, every risk heβd been unwilling to take until now. The taste of her, the feel of her warmth pressed against him, was addictive in a way heβd never anticipated. Heβd never been one for reckless choices, not in his line of work, where one wrong move could cost him everything. But this - her - was different. Sheβd seen him, rough edges and flaws, and chosen to stay. Somehow, that made him feel both vulnerable and alive in a way he hadnβt felt in years. When he finally broke the kiss, his breath mingling with hers as they hovered close, he brushed his fingers down her spine, pausing for a moment to steady himself. The gravity of what theyβd started weighed heavy between them, but he didnβt care about the risks right now; heβd decided, without a word, that he wanted her with him, whatever that meant. Looking down at her, his voice dropped to a murmur. βYou know, youβre making it damn hard to remember why I kept you at armβs length.β He held her gaze, searching her eyes for any flicker of hesitation. βTell me, Hazel,β he said, leaning down until their lips were just a whisper apart. βIf I ask you to stay tonight, would you?β The question hung heavy in the air, a promise and a plea all at once, and he waited, hoping that, just maybe, they were both ready to take this step together.
KAT knew what she wanted. Not just in this moment, but with him. Knew that it was impossible and yet she was determined to believe it couldn't be. How could he not be exactly who she was suppose to be with when that's what her heart was screaming at her. Never had a kiss felt so, all encompassing that even her brain had no feedback. Everything was just his touch, his taste, his feel, his hands on her, what those hands and lips would feel like roaming every part of her, she wanted to commit every inch of him to memory, until it was all she could remember. Until there was nothing and no one else. That wasn't just lust or attraction. She felt connected to him on a plane outside of their existence. For once, it was something she didn't understand and it didn't scare her or even make her curious, per se. It made her resolute, it made her confident, it made her whimper when he pulled away, feeling too much space between them. But as he spoke, she was brought back to earth, to this plane of existence and her breathing was heavy and her eyes trained on him and she knew what he wanted and she wanted it to, but not tonight. It could be tonight, she had to make it to her meeting spot with her handler and if she didn't show up, it would trigger protocols that would make her team aware of this... relationship and it would ultimately end it. So when the question was finally asked, his lips so close to hers she sighed into another kiss before pulling away to answer. "Not yet. I want to know what a date with you looks like first." She said as her fingers teased the waist band of his pants. The prospect of him actually planning a date for them sent a wave of something over her. Something she couldn't quite identify in this moment, but it was now something she needed just as much as she needed a night with him. "Three dates. If you still want a night with me after three dates, then I promise I'll make the wait worth it."
[ halloween night ]
KAT: where are you? i'm dressed as a black cat!
[ saturday afternoon ]
KAT: I am slightly concerned that you haven't texted me back. was it that good of a Halloween night?? @anderseva
I don't wanna sell my soul, but I'm sure we could arrange a loan || KATRICK
tagging: Patrick Flanagan ( @patrick-flanagan ) & Kat Jones
date & time: October 21, 2020 sometime in the evening
location: Patrick's Casino in Las Vegas, Nevada
warnings: none!
summary: A flashback to the beginning of Patrick and Kat's relationship. She was an undercover F.B.I. agent and he was a Scotish crime boss working out of Las Vegas and the rest is history.
word count: 4,912
PATRICK sat at his desk, head in his hands. It was aching, after a long phone call across the ocean with his boss. His jaw was clenching and he was pissed. Delivering so many drugs in such a short amount of time was going to be a hopeless task and he knew it. Behind him, the flashing neon lights and the heavy traffic of Las Vegas was buzzing through the floor-to-ceiling windows, and he sighed to himself, lifting his head up. What a fucking prick, Patrick thought to himself about his boss who was sitting comfortably back in Scotland, not lifting a finger. He got up from his chair and made his way over to the liquor cabinet, needing a drink after that. "For fuck's sake..." he mumbled to himself when he found the empty bottle, and he wished for everything in the world that he could just want a normal job, so he wouldn't feel the need to turn to alcohol. He opened the door, looked out into the hallway and saw her. She'd been working for him for a little bit, but not long enough where he'd actually spoken a whole lot to her. "Hazel," He greeted her with a gentle nod. "Bring a bottle of whisky into my office."
KAT had been undercover for a while now and while her team assured her that she was collecting data at an acceptable rate, she felt she should've had more. It was a tight ship, impressively so, with no real leaks or weak spots. It had her fascinated with this operations seemingly fearless leader. Patrick Flanagan, the Scotsman with an Irish name; who was surely just as intelligent as he was bold. Unfortunately, she didn't have the forethought in these moments to register her personal interest in the man as a potential problem. Instead it had her staying a little closer to where he was and a little later than she was suppose to and not being altogether honest with her team about her growing interest in this particular man's psyche. Dangerous, she should have known but curiosity always felt natural to her. Hearing her name, her undercover name anyway, in that distinctive Scottish accent, she nodded back, while taking in his appearance and reading his tone. It didn't seem she was in trouble, he hadn't been arngy and he didn't look suspicious of her, he seemed, tired, maybe frustrated, like he just needed a break. Going to the bar to get a boss approved bottle of whiskey, she grabbed two glasses and a bucket of ice. It was presumptuous of her but she was hopeful she'd finally have an excuse to talk to him or rather himand excuse to talk to her. Walking into his office and setting the everything down on his desk, she wasn't sure what to do with her hands sundddenly. "Do you want me to stay or leave?" She asked bluntly. "And do you want the door open or closed?"
PATRICK went to sit back down at his desk and started organizing everything, hurrying some papers that this poor new employee didn't need to see. From what he knew, she'd been hired, completely oblivious to everything that was going on underneath the surface of the place. Hearing the sound of glasses and ice, Patrick cleared his throat, as all the paper went hiding inside the desk drawers, locked with a small key that he kept in his pocket. The cure for a headache probably wasn't whisky, but he didn't really care; he needed something to take the edge off of this upcoming mission. There was so much for him to lose here, but also way more for him to gain, if he could pull it off. The sound of everything being placed on the wooden desk, and Kat within his periphery had him snap out of it though. He couldn't help but chuckle at the way she'd invited herself - he'd have to give it to her, it took guts. "Actually-" Patrick started, before thinking about it for a brief moment. "Stay. Take a seat, Hazel." He said, motioning to the chair across from him. This would be a nice distraction tonight, he thought to himself. "Tell me a little bit about yourself."
KAT made sure to look around the room, memorizing every inch of the space. It wouldn't be as thorough as she would have liked, as she couldn't afford to raise any suspicion. In her brief scan it was less about what she saw and more about what she hadn't seen. No papers, while she'd rarely had a chance to peak her head in before the couple of time she managed there were always papers, but now he had moved them and she figured they were somewhere in that desk. A part of her was surprised he actually wanted her to stay but it really just spoke to his state of mind. Something was bothering him, he was stressed, maybe. She wasn't sure, which both bothered her and made her interest in this man grow. Reading people was her thing, it's why the Bureau sought her out, specifically, for this mission. Yet, this man was- most people didn't have his level of control over their face and body. It's what made her want to know him more, it's why she sat down and it's why she was going to tell him her- Hazel's, story. "Oh, well, I'm Hazel, but you knew that, last name is Prokrop, I don't love it but it's what I was born with. I'm from Northern Virginia but moved her to be with a man I thought was the one only to find out six months later he was not." She smiled sadly, hoping it made her sympathetic. "He's since moved on but I kinda liked it here so I stayed. Use to work at that casino that closed down a couple months ago, and then your place popped up as hiring so I applied and now I'm here." She laughed and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. "I'm not very interesting I'm afraid. Unlike you, can't say the Scottish accent is very common around here."
PATRICK opened the bottle of whisky with a 'POP' and started pouring it in the two glasses. The ice that Kat had brought wasn't necessary to him - he'd never felt the need to water down his liquor. But he pushed the bucket and glass across the desk, over to her, so she could add it if she wanted to. As she started her story, Patrick could feel his interest growing more and more for the girl. He hadn't hired her for her looks, but they were an added bonus. No, based off of her resume, she was clever, sharp and could think fast; all qualities that Patrick needed his employees to possess. He leaned back in his chair, taking a sip of the strong beverage, admiring her, but also noting how she was just going through a list of superficial facts; probably stuff that she was used to telling blokes like him, before getting dragged into their horrible twin-sized beds. "I disagree, I think you're very interesting, Hazel," Patrick started, leaning forward again. "I'm just a simple casino owner, having taken after my dad and his hotel management. But you? You've been places. Seen things. Experienced more than what you're letting on. I can tell."
KAT looked at the bucket of ice and the stubborn part of her wanted to forego it but the part of her that remembered what room temperature whiskey tasted like reached for that bucket and filled the class with ice. Anything to help eliminate the burn, she had never been one to enjoy the taste of liquor, she was a cocktail or chaser girl through and through. Sitting under his gaze had her feeling unexpectedly flushed. She'd been working here for a month, they even had her actually work at another casino for a bit before coming here, men looking at her wasn't new. Even before this mission she had experienced men looking at her. But not like this, they looked at her like all they saw was what they wantedto see, but Patrick looked at her like he saw what she didn'twant him to see. Intuative and perceptive. The backstory they had for Hazel was thorough but something told her she was going to have to put her quick thinking to the test with him. "Do you find me interesting or do you find me beautiful? In my experience, men seem to confuse the two." She smiled thinking he would enjoy a bit of banter or cheek as they called it across the pond. "You don't believe I'm just some girl from the suburbs?" Funnily enough that part was actually true.
PATRICK knew he could be intimidating. It was all part of a calculated strategy of getting what he wanted; something he'd picked up on over the years from his bosses. It had come in handy in many different situations; usually ones where his life might've been on the line. Now was obviously not one of those times, it was much calmer and casual. He couldn't help but crack the stare though, a smile making the wrinkles around his eyes appear, and a laugh escaping his lips at her comment. She was brave, that was for damn certain. Not many of his employees dared to use any kind of banter around Patrick. "I know what I find you, Hazel," he chuckled and took another sip. "It can easily be both, to me." He pointed out, his smile fading and his glass hitting the desk again. "Oh, no, I believe you alright. I just think there's more to you than you're letting on. What went on behind that white picket-fence is what I want to know."
KAT was relieved when he seemed to take her question well. Along with relief, she found herself noticing the way his whole face softened as he laughed. Smile lines by his eyes, he looked good, lighter maybe. While her boss was, objectively, an attractive man, especially if you went by what all of her coworkers said, Patrick was also not the most approachable man. Kat figured that was by design, surely it kept people in line if when they looked at you, fear washed over them. Even with all of her fascination, she had to admit she'd had always been apprehensive about getting too close, but now, seeing him like this, something about him was, for want of a better word, warm. Returning his smile, she was brought back to the moment when she heard him call her Hazel. Helped her remember why she was actually here. Taking a sip from her own glass she was very grateful for the ice making her look less incapable of taking a simple sip of alcohol. "It wasn't about what happened behind it but what happened around it." She put her glass down and placed her hands in her lap. "My home life was good, it was out in the world where I suffered. I guess I was a weird kid, and everyone, including adults, never failed to remind me of that." That was true and the child in her was still heartbroken over it.
PATRICK kept observing Hazel, kept trying to see beyond the properness. The ironed clothes, the perfect make-up, the neat hands in her lap. He understood that she was clearly professional, and taking her job seriously, but there was more to her than that facade, and he knew it. He could see it straight away. It was like with him; there was more to him than the crisp white shirt and the slim black tie. He'd come from poverty, a mother who tried her best to make ends meet, and a childhood that caused him to go into a life of crime. A rough life so far, hidden behind a nicely pressed suit. It took one to know one, he used to say, and it was exactly like that with Hazel. Maybe just not as extreme. A subtle frown appeared on Patrick's face, as Hazel started telling but not really explaining. "'Weird', how? You've done well for yourself, given your appearance here, so it must not have been all too bad." He pushed on, wanting to get through to her.
KAT had felt that being undercover, while somewhat stressful, was, for the most part, easy. Gathering intel, not drawing attention to herself, just clocking in and clocking out. Now though, sitting across from a man whose file she knew forwards, backwards and upside down, she finally felt the pressure. She had hoped she could side step his questions by being coy and playful. It had been a long shot, since it was obvious that a pretty face wasn't going to be enough to distract him but she also knew that she had to be careful with what truths about herself she gave him. Childhood was a bit easier, less lies to filter through and consider. She found her fingers fidgeting with each other as she spoke. "I was smart." She smiled a little sadly. "The kind of smart that had me graduating high school at thirteen." A pause. "None of the kids my age knew me because I wasn't their classmate and my classmates... She trailed off lost in her memory for a moment. "They didn't want to hang out with a kid and sometimes both the kids my age and my classmates were, cruel. I suppose you would call it bullying. At the time I knew I didn't like how they treated me but I was more curious as to why than hurt. It was isolating." Even though she had worked through her childhood trauma, it still hurt to think about. "I was naive and too trusting. I guess you could argue that I still am."
PATRICK normally didn't have these conversations with his employees. He didn't even have them with the other members of the gang; people that he was relatively close to. He didn't allow a whole lot of people to get so close to him, and usually kept it strictly professional. But there was something about Hazel; it wasn't just that there was more to her than what was on the surface - she seemed empathetic, compassionate and humble. It was qualities that Patrick didn't exactly possess, after having grown up around people who had toughened him up. He used to say that the world was cold and unhelpful, and he had only himself to count on. But it felt like Hazel was the type of person to give people the benefit of doubt, and be kind to them; rather than punish them, the way Patrick was used to. Listening to her story, the Scotsman leaned back into his chair again, taking a long sip of his whisky, feeling the satisfying burn of the smoky liquor in his throat. He knew what it was like to leave school at an early age, but not because of being too smart. And he knew what it was like to be bullied, but not because of not being the right age. As she continued and described herself as naive and too trusting, Patrick could see it; they were the other sides of the coin; the cons of being empathetic, compassionate or humble. She was deeply aware of it, everything that Patrick was piecing together during this conversation. And it was incredibly endearing, hearing her already know herself so well. Not many people did. "Perhaps. But you wouldn't have that kind of wise awareness about yourself, if you hadn't learned something since then," Patrick counter-argued. He wanted to change the subject. "How are you finding the job, Hazel? Is it stimulating enough, for a smart lass like you?"
KAT was surprised she had been so forthcoming with her story. Usually she avoided mentioning the bad, but it seemed like the depth he was looking for. It was equally as rare though, for people to see past the carefully curated exterior she had built for herself. While she was known for her ability to read people, she imagined that was a skill Patrick possessed that people underestimated and it probably landed them exactly where this crime leader wanted them. It wasn't lost on her, that it might not be happenstance that he asked her of all people to have this drink with him. But something about his demenor seemed deeply genuine. As he spoke to her wisdom and self awareness, she took another sip and found herself forgetting why she was here and instead just being in this moment. Putting the glass down she smiled and nodded. "Interacting with people is always stimulating." She replied. "It's a great job to have if you just want to observe and at this point I can tell how someone is going to play and their probability of winning or losing. So many people have had their best and worst day right in front of me, all within a twenty minute game. It's fascinating? Don't you think? I mean why'd you choose a casino in Vegas?"
PATRICK knew he was probably getting into murky territory, getting so close to an employee who was on the floor, and not exactly someone who worked directly for him, but there was something about Hazel that had him hooked. He couldn't pinpoint it, but there was a mystery to her; she seemed to be carrying a pretty huge secret around and Patrick wanted to know what it was. And he'd only scratched the surface. "So it's the sociology part of the job that thrills you?" Patrick asked, genuinely interested. He'd never heard it like that. Usually people worked the job for the several thousand tips that they could rake in, in a night. Biting the inside of his cheek when he heard her question, there was both a side to him that was impressed that she'd even dared to ask, and another side that was struggling to see how it mattered. But if it was people she was interested in, he would give it the benefit of the doubt. "I'm my father's son," Patrick blatantly lied - it was one he'd pulled several times before, so it didn't hurt him anymore. "It seemed to be an appropriate way to carry on the Flanagan legacy," Another lie. He was more of a 'McAdams' than a 'Flanagan', but Hazel didn't need to know that, and she definitely didn't need to know that this whole thing was just a front for whatever business he was doing on the side. He took a long sip of his whisky, finishing it off, before leaning forward and placing the glass on the table. "We're looking at expanding into the hotel business. It only seems fitting." He gave her a small smile. Something about lying to the poor girl had him feeling some type of way, but he couldn't begin to analyze that now.
KAT had found even just the process of getting the job to be fascinating. They were incredibly thorough, their background checks were so much more extensive than she thought they would be. She figured with the amount of money the employees would be around it would be similar to getting a job as a bank teller, but she thinks that casino's were even more intense. It wasn't specific to Patrick, but she did suspect he was more particular than most, and not just because of the operation he was allegedly running out of there. Everything about him said, caucious and guarded, traits that were usually learned. It made her wonder who he was as a kid. Files never had enough information about childhood, that required face to face communication. "Yes, I imagine most go through the extensive and intensive application process for the tips, which are more than adequate but I could make money anywhere. I can't, however, interact with people in this mindset with just any job." Which was true and the psychology of why, why are these people gambling their homes away when they know, logically, it's all chance? She could study the patrons here forever and learn something new every day. At the mention of his family name, she took another sip of her drink, the ice had melted a bit, watering the taste down. 'It only seems fitting.' That is not a phrase someone uses when they're excited about something. Made her think it was either a lie or he was very disinterested in it. To change the pace a bit, she put her glass down and leaned forward, he elbows resting on her knees and her hands clasped together and resting under her chin. "If ou could do anything or be anything what would you do or be? Would you still be a casino owner or would you be a scuba instructor or something?" She smiled, leaning people's dreams and aspirations was one of her favorite facts to know about a person. It said so much about someone.
PATRICK studied Kat for a moment, his dark eyes assessing her as she leaned forward, asking him a question most people wouldnβt dare. It wasnβt the kind of inquiry that made sense in his world. People like him didnβt get the luxury of βwhat ifs.β Life had been about survival for as long as he could remember. The casino was more than just a business; it was his way out of the violent life heβd once led back in Glasgow. But no matter how polished it appeared on the surface, it was still a front for darker dealings. And yet, Katβs curiosity disarmed him. The question wasnβt dangerous in itself, but with Kat, every word mattered. She was sharper than most people he dealt with - she made him think twice before speaking. βIf I could be anything?β His Scottish accent was thick, his tone as careful as ever. βIβve never really thought about it," He took in a deep breath and leaned back in his chair, his gaze not leaving hers as he thought long and hard about it. There was something almost playful in her smile, but it didnβt escape him that her curiosity wasnβt just about his aspirations. It was about learning who he was underneath the businessman mask he wore so well. Patrick wasnβt sure how much he wanted to give away. But he also liked the way she pushed him - subtly, but persistently - past his usual defenses. βI mightβve been a sailor. Something about seeing the world, and being out in the open like that seems very appealing.β He could feel the irony, the weight of his own words. Here he was, in a closed space, on solid ground. There was not much open air or water around him. He couldn't help but crack a small smile at the sight of hers, as he continued. βBut no, Iβm not much for scuba diving.β His gaze drifted down to her hands, then back up to meet her eyes. βAnd what about you? I reckon youβve got you own ideas about what people should be doing with their lives. So, if you werenβt here, in this casino, studying everyone, where would you be?β
KAT kept eye contact as he looked at her, leaning back in his chair, contemplating her answer. The question was, would he come up with a lie or would her tell her the truth and would she know the difference. It should conern her that she can't read him as easily as she can most, but it just made her feel at ease. Like she was just talking to something, like anyone else and he coul lie to her if he wanted but she really hoped he didn't. Finally he spoke again and she wasn't disappointed with his answer. Lie or not, it told her something about. Something she had suspected since she memorized his file. Patrick felt trapped in this life. You don't dream of leaving land for a life at sea because you love the life you're living. You dream of the sea because you want to leave your old life behind and voyage to some place or to nowhere at all. Water is often a symbol of cleansing and even transformation. You submerge yourself, like living in a womb again and when you come back up you are reborn. She wondered if he knew that about himself or if he just thought he picked something random. Then he was lightening the moment, leading her to believe there was some weight to his answer, but she tucked her analysis away and instead laughed a little at his lack of interest in scuba diving. Following his eyes and he looked down at her hands and back up she bit her bottom lip in thought. "An Olympic synchronized swimmer. I think it's beautiful and I enjoy being in water and I like the idea of being a part of a team where you're ability to be in tune with those around you makes or breaks you. Something so... human about that." And if she had genuinely tried when she was a kid and almost drowned four times, no one had to know.
PATRICK's eyes narrowed slightly, the corner of his mouth twitching in what couldβve almost been a smile. Katβs answer wasnβt what he expected - an Olympic swimmer. Elegant and disciplined. He could picture it, her moving in perfect synchrony with a team, everything calculated but appearing effortless. There was something poetic about it, especially for a woman who seemed so focused on understanding and controlling the currents around her. It made him wonder what she was trying to swim away from, or towards. βYou like the idea of being in perfect sync with others, but you chose a job that requires you to stay out of sync - always watching, always looking for the cracks. Bit of a contradiction, donβt you think?β The whiskey burned a little as he swallowed, his gaze holding hers. He wasnβt just teasing; he was testing, trying to see if sheβd offer more. It wasnβt in his nature to trust, not even close. But there was something refreshing about her honesty, even when he wasnβt entirely sure it was all truth. He could tell there was more beneath her surface - ambition, maybe, or something personal she wasnβt letting on. And he wanted to figure her out just as much as she wanted to understand him.
KAT couldn't help but smile at his analysis of her dream job. It was a valid point and while she had never quite looked at it that way in comparison to this current job, it was true. A part of her craved the ability to just fall in line with people she trust to fall in line with her at the exact right tempo. It seemed peaceful somehow, to just trust in the person next to you. Although, she did find him point out the contridiction to be a bit ironic. "And you chose a life that would put you in the middle of the ocean, far far away from all of this." She gestured to the building their were in. "Bit of a contradiction, don't you think?" She echoed his own words back at him. Not everyone chooses a dream job that is so opposing to their current job but the fact that they both did made her feel a connection to Patick. The both chose water themed careers too, and certainly that must say something. Maybe it was just a spark between them that she wanted to keep fanning, but whatever was settling between them in this moment was, she suspected, outside of both of their expectations. Then again, maybe it was just the whiskey warming her cheeks and not the way he looked at her. She found her eyes roaming down from his face to the collar of his shirt, to the bend of his elbow down to his hands and right back up to his face when she realized what she was doing. That was definitely the liquor. "I've never been much of a drinker." She suddenly felt... shy.
PATRICK's lips curved into a slow smile as Kat mirrored his words back to him, her playful tone laced with a hint of challenge. She was right - heβd chosen a life surrounded by risk, heavy with burdens, yet here he was, talking about escaping it all. The contradiction struck a nerve, but in a way he found almost liberating. Her perceptiveness was sharper than most, and he was beginning to feel less inclined to shield himself behind his usual armor. βAye, maybe weβre both drawn tae something we canβt quite reach,β he replied, voice low and thoughtful. βGuess it keeps us moving forward. Or, at least, looking for something better.β She was watching him closely, her gaze sweeping over his face and down to his hands before quickly darting back up, a flicker of surprise betraying her own awareness. The way she caught herself, suddenly shy, made him chuckle softly. There was an innocence in her reaction that felt out of place in this hardened city, and Patrick couldnβt help but find it disarming. βNever much of a drinker, eh?β he teased as he held her gaze, something unspoken sparking between them. βSeems weβre both a bit out of our usual depths tonight.β
So what did you share? Because I told you a hell of a lot of things during those moments when it was just you and I. I shared things that I've never shared with anyone else. That's great material right there, especially for that special annual bonus I'm sure you get in the FBI.
None of it. I didn't tell them anything you shared with me. I never even told them you and I had ever spoken outside of generic employer/employee interactions. Everything that happened between us, stayed between us, Patrick.
I was at the PSU cafeteria, picking up vegetables that the lunch ladies put aside for me; y'know, ones they don't end up usin', I feed to the horses, so they don't go to waste. It went...fine, I guess? How 'bout you, Kat, were you safe? Hmm...you're smart but you're also hot, so probably Daphne?
Saturday mornin' sounds great! We can get some breakfast, or somethin'?
It never would have occurred to me to ask a cafeteria for the produce they can't get through to feed animals. That is very resourceful! Fine, I guess, isn't very descriptive, but you do seem uninjured. I'm just trying to figure out if that air of unease about you is because of the lockdown or something else. I was safe and sound at my place. Well I was safe, maybe not so sound. I don't like feeling like i'm being held captive, even if it is in my own home. You are the second person to say that! I'm obviously Velma, where is Daphne coming from?
Yes! There is this cute little bakery just down the road a couple minutes from the pumpkin patch. They have pumpkin flavored everything and they do full breakfast too!
I've got some dark academia style clothes, used to be a goth before the uniform, and it's slowly coming back into my wardrobe. Could pull out something a little less practical for the day. I wish you luck, but I'm sure you'll be great.
I could see you being goth and pulling it off. Although, I don't know that I've ever seen a goth not pulling it off. I think confidence and authentic self expression are ingrained into the very essence of the genre/style and those are the two things required to pull anything off. I'm glad it's making it's way back into your wardrobe. Thank you!
I think the perfect time to be sexy is in front of your students and colleagues. They're all probably used to seeing your dressed all stuffy and professor-like, so wowing them with a whole other side to you would be so fun.
That's good to know. Mm, no, I don't care if people perceive me as lame, I just don't want to be lame. As a newbie, it's so important to find your place among the hierarchy, and while all ecosystems need lame members to function, that's not me.
Unfortunately, we are not of like mind on that. I would be very uncomfortable dressing sexy in that environment. And I think you look your best when you are confident and comfortable and I would be neither of those things. But maybe one day that will change.
I suppose that would depend on your definition of lame. Personally, I think so long as you are being true to who you are and aren't hurting anyone in the process, then you'll be okay, but there will always be people who think you're lame, no matter what.
It definitely does. It's also just a cute group costume, so it's very layered. I feel like he should walk around on all fours all day, but did Scooby even do that? I mean, I know he did, but why when I picture Scooby do I picture him walking on his hind legs? Mm, I think the only way I could make a nurse costume unique to what I usually wear would be by covering it in blood... but even that's not an unusual look for me. I'll think of something.
And there is nothing Psychology experts love more than layers. You know what, I did not realize until this moment that he does walk on all fours in the cartoon but then I think about him, he's upright. Interesting. I am sure you will, you are a brilliant mind.
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