for @americanhoney913, @masd-1138 and the rest of the delulu islanders
twisters: behind the scenes / hot ones versus / twisters: into the eye of the storm / twisters: tracking the fronts - the path of twisters / LA twisters promo / NYC twisters promo
current fan creation landscape is kinda like if you went to a party with a homemade cake and everyone takes a slice and silently thumbs up at you with no attempt to start a conversation except for occasionally some guy sits in the corner with a tape recorder critiquing the cake as though he was a restaurant critic and another guy is handing the cake to an uber driver like "yeah i need you to find a restaurant that makes cake like this so i can have more of it" and the only person that's talked to you in 30 minutes is a very sweet little guy who was like "hey i liked your cake" and then ran away apologizing for bothering you the moment you said thank you.
someone brought a cake analysis robot to feed the cake into to determine the exact ingredients and supposedly it can spit out the exact same cake. and if you're like dude. what. then they're like well if it bothers you you should have made more cake. i'm hungry and i deserve cake. and you're like dude we're at a party.
Three months later you find out that fifty people locked themselves in a room to discuss how much they loved your cake and how they wished you made more. None of them ever told you.
Tyler vowed to kiss her tonight. This was getting ridiculous. He’d clutched the handle of her suitcase at that airport instead of grabbing her around the waist and sweeping her into a dramatic kiss. Kate had practically shot up flares and waved him in using airplane marshaling wands, and he still just stared at her mouth like an idiot.
All afternoon, as they pursued storms across muggy Oklahoma fields, he’d squandered every opportunity to cup the back of her neck and draw her into an adrenaline-veneered kiss; each golden moment slipping through his fingers like so much hematitic Oklahoma dirt.
Her rebooked flight departed in the morning, so when the last possible tornado of the day busted out, they stumbled across a familiar motel and agreed to clean up and get some rest.
“Kate?” He stopped her as she began to trudge up the motel stairs, and she spun to face him.
“Can I take you out to dinner?” He casually pulled a piece of grass hay from her hair. “Pretty sure the only place open is the Shady Grady bar across the street, so I can’t guarantee the quality of the meal, but -“
“Eight o’clock?”
He nodded, “eight o’clock.”
At seven-thirty, he entered the bar determined to stow his uncharacteristic jitters and make a goddamned move.
As far as romantic settings go, Tyler figured he’d just have to make the most of the meager atmosphere. Music blared from a cheap sound system, filling the establishment with muted, cracked versions of modern country ballads. The stale air smelled of peanuts, alcohol, and overtly perfumed customers.
He promptly spotted Kate, who smiled at him from a booth across the room; those globular brown eyes drew him to her like tractor beams. He strode confidently through a packed dance floor of denim, cowboy hats, and clacking boots on the oak floor.
“You’re early,” he said and slid into the high-backed wood booth.
“So are you,” she observed with a grin.
Honey-lit by the poorly attempted ambient lighting, her hair glowed golden, her mascara-dressed eyes the dark rich mahogany of the drink in the tumbler before her.
He’d grown accustomed to seeing Kate in two states of being: completely disheveled or freshly scrubbed. Witnessing the polished version stirred within him a fresh yearning. Radiant in her simple black silk camisole, small gold hoop earrings, and glossy lips, she’d pinned half her hair up, the remaining falling in blonde waves brushing her shoulders.
“You’re always beautiful Kate,” he tried not to behave as gobsmacked as he felt. “But tonight, you’re goddamned stunning.”
“Pretty dapper yourself.”
In reality, the only difference in his appearance from his usual attire was the addition of a soft caramel blazer, and, of course, the efforts she couldn’t see: his frantic pre-date preparations of trimming his nose hairs, whitening his teeth, manicuring his junk, clipping his toenails and spraying on some Dior Sauvage.
He tore his eyes from her to examine the laptop, tablet, binder, notebook and phone strewn across the table, “what’s all this?”
She shrugged, “I wanted to rework some things before my presentation, and the motel’s wifi is garbage.”
“Making any progress?” he seized a yellow legal pad and scanned her neatly written notes.
“Not really,” she admitted. “Would you want to do a read-through? Let me know what you think? I don’t want to get this wrong.”
“Course I would. But, I’d bet the farm you’re overthinkin’ it.”
“You’ve got to have a farm to bet first.”
“I do.”
“You do?”
“Mmhm. Send it to me; I’ll read it tonight.”
She tapped at the keys, presumably texting the file to him, and without looking up she said, “I’m actually glad you’re early.”
“Oh yeah,” he smiled, “why’s that?”
She quickly evaluated their immediate surroundings and leaned in, lowering her voice, “Some mega creep isn’t taking no for an answer; he keeps circling me like I’m roadkill.”
“Need me to scare him off?”
“Need? No. Want? Very much so.”
“I can do that,” he smiled widely.
She tilted her head, “why do you look so eager?”
“I like bein’ useful to you.”
“Have I not told you how incredibly useful I find you?”
“Not near enough,” he retained his eyes on her, memorizing her face at this moment.
The creep suddenly appeared at their table, too tall and too attractive, Tyler decided, with dark hair and bright blue eyes.
He placed a glass of liquor in front of Kate, ignoring Tyler’s presence altogether. "Hey there, beautiful. Woodford Reserve, neat, right?”
“Well that’s mighty generous of you,” Tyler drawled, snatched the glass and downed the drink in one swallow, slamming the empty tumbler back on the table. “This sure is a friendly town.”
Megacreep seethed, “That wasn’t for you!”
“Oh, my apologies,” Tyler feigned confusion. “When you said ‘beautiful,’ I thought you were talkin’ to me.”
Kate chortled and covered it by clearing her throat.
“Who the fuck are you?” Megacreep snarled at him.
“Now here I thought sure you were a fan of mine,” Tyler declared. “I get a lot of free drinks from my fans.”
“Is this your fella?” MegaCreep asked Kate.
She gazed at Tyler, her eyes shining affectionately, “there is a distinct and growing possibility.”
He smirked, “hear that buddy? I’m a growin’ possibility.”
“You’re a dick.”
“Been called worse. Today even.”
Kate chuckled, and Megacreep stepped towards her, pointing his large finger at her, “what kinda bitch doesn’t say she’s got a boyfriend?”
Tyler stood in a blink, placing himself physically between Kate and Megacreep. Arms akimbo and his voice cold, Tyler practically growled, “you’re gonna walk away now. Nope, no, don’t look at her. Don’t talk to her. Walk the fuck away. Go on now.”
Megacreep stared him down for a moment, as though considering his options. Despite Megacreep’s height advantage, Kate wasn’t too concerned; Tyler’s sturdy presence and irrepressible conviction imbued the intimidating impression that he wouldn’t at all require height.
“What a waste,” Megacreep snarled, and stomped away like a pissed toddler. Tyler didn’t move, his eyes glued to the guy until he fully exited the bar.
His relaxed posture returned immediately, and he slid back into the vinyl seat across from her.
“You white knighted me,” she teased warmly.
“Yeah, yeah, let’s get back to that distinct possibility you were talkin’ about.”
She laughed, “Tyler, I’m leaving in the morning.”
“But you’re comin’ back.”
“Probably.”
He scowled, “what do you mean ‘probably’? You’re not thinkin’ about staying in New York? You don’t belong in New York, Kate.”
“Why’s that?”
He appeared personally aggrieved and more than a little irritated, “you’re tellin’ me you’d be happier in New York? I mean, your face when we’re out there in those fields? You light up like a firefly in June! You sure as shit aren’t letting us do this without you.”
She blinked softly at him.
Relief dressed his face, “you enjoyin’ watchin’ me squirm?”
“Lil’ bit,” She shrugged.
“Sadist.”
She laughed. Under the gloLike cozying beside a crackling fire on a chilly evening, it was impossible not to feel a deep warmth and joy under the glow of his full attention.
He regarded her, “seriously, Kate, you’re a fuckin’ knockout.”
“Thank you,” she responded, oddly flustered from his blatant admiration; she glanced at her drink and then back up at his ridiculously handsome face. She couldn’t think what else to say. Her mother always christened Kate as bilingual, in that she spoke English and sass fluently. Charm, however, she could never harness. Tyler Owens had a master’s degree.
Initially, upon meeting Tyler, she attempted minimal eye contact to avoid the unnerving fever of his beauty. Quickly though, he disarmed her hesitancy with his earnest altruism and overflowing enthusiasm, and she’d been forced to become accustomed to his excessively good looks.
“Jesus Christ, what kind of whiskey are you drinking?” He peered into her tumbler, feeling slightly buzzed. “Shit’s strong.”
“It’s just bourbon.”
“Bourbon?” He raised his eyebrows. “You a mafia kingpin or a nineteen fifties ad exec?”
She smiled, “I like bourbon. My grandfather used to give me little sips as a kid. Misguided as he was, I think I developed a taste for it.”
Kate’s reticence about her life enflamed Tyler’s natural delight in discovery. Every tidbit, every newly uncovered piece of the Kate-puzzle felt like a win, "Is he still alive, your grandfather?”
As she started to answer, a sudden vertiginous wave pummeled him, and he placed his palms on the table for stability.
“Tyler, are you okay?”
He squinted, a sleepy warmth spread through his limbs, “I had exactly one drink, your drink, and that was it.”
“What does that mean; are you feeling sick?”
His jaw muscles clenched, and his eyebrows drew together as though he deliberated on something difficult or painful.
“Tyler?” She reached across the table, placing her hand atop his. “Answer me. Are you okay?”
He met her eyes and fumed, “I think that skyscraper-sized predator roofied your drink.”
“What? Seriously?”
“I’m going to feed him his fuckin’ teeth,” he stood, irate, and then immediately sat back down, “after the room stops spinning.”
“Oh my god. We should, we should get you to the hospital,” she slammed her laptop lid closed and started shoveling everything into her messenger bag.
“I don’t need a hospital.”
“You don’t know what he put in there, or more importantly, how much.”
“I don’t need a damn hospital,” he scowled. “I’m wasted. I’m not dying.”
Her face puckered in concern, “how do you feel?”
He shrugged, “tore up from the floor up.”
“If you won’t let me take you to the hospital, then we need to get you to your room before you pass out.”
“Not gonna pass out.”
“How do you know?” She tilted her head, “You been roofied before?”
“Course not.”
“Well I have, so I can tell you that we need to get you somewhere before you pass out. And fast.”
His face fell, “you’ve, Kate, you’ve been -“
“In college. I was fine. I was with friends who kept me safe. It happens more often than you can imagine. Now let’s get you out of here, because Tyler, I don’t think I can carry you.”
He swallowed, his face pained, “yeah, yeah okay.”
He rose to his feet and inhaled deeply while Kate wrapped her messenger bag across her body and stood, shoving her phone in her pocket.
“Here, put your arm around me in case you get woozy.”
“I know you’re strong Kate, but if I go down, it’s going to be like getting clobbered by a bald cypress.”
“Just do what I’m saying,” she gripped his hand and hung it around her shoulder and wrapped her arm around his waist.
“Bossy,” he grumbled.
“You like it,” she scoffed, “Pfft, a bald cypress. You think quite a lot of yourself.”
He chuckled and then he sighed, suddenly forlorn, “hey, I’m, I really didn’t imagine this is how our date would go.”
“Well maybe later you can tell me what you did imagine.”
“You flirtin’ with me?”
“For days now, Tyler. Let’s get out of here.”
They began the journey across the wooden floor, feet crunching upon the husks of peanut shells tossed aside, and to his credit, Tyler walked fairly well, despite his growing sense of instability. They weaved around the little square tables littered with empty beer bottles, shot glasses and crumpled cocktail napkins.
They both immediately glimpsed the sky as they exited the bar, habitually checking conditions. The fresh temperate air returned a sense of normalcy to the peculiar circumstances.
They crossed the deserted highway hand in hand, by the time they reached the stairs of the motel, Tyler felt he’d crossed the Rubicon, and plopped himself down on the bottom step.
“If you rest there, you’re going to end up staying there; get up, Tyler.”
“Alrighty,” he pulled himself up by the railing.
“Which room?”
“Hmm. Not sure actually,” he pointed at the entire row of motel rooms, his vision progressively more blurry.
“That’s alright. I need to keep an eye on you anyway. Let’s just go to mine,” she climbed the stairs behind him and then grasped his hand, guiding him into her room.
“Sit down,” she pointed at her bed, and he obliged obediently. For a clearly vain man, Tyler truly possessed very little ego. He never appeared slighted or emasculated by Kate’s leadership or expertise. From day one, he approached her as though her abilities very possibly exceeded his own. She couldn’t say the same for ninety-seven percent of her male colleagues, even those with years less experience and education. Tyler’s cocky assuredness should have translated into the typical arrogant know-it-all, but ever-surprisingly, his heart and mind opened to all ideas, and he easily credited those around him for his successes.
“Kate?”
“Yeah?” She unloaded her gear onto the dresser top and turned to face his distressed expression.
“I’m hammered, and I’m twice your size,” He frowned. “That drink would have knocked you out cold.”
“I know, Tyler.”
“He might’ve, I mean if you drank that instead of me, if I wasn’t there, he could’ve…” he appeared both furious and on the verge of tears.
“Yeah, I know,” she grimaced. “Try not to think about it.”
“I’m sorry, that this world, that you have to deal with shit like that.”
“It’s alright,” she leaned against the dresser.
“It’s, it’s not,” he scowled, “why aren’t you angry?”
“I am, I just don’t have any practical answers, and I’m more concerned about you right now.”
He stared at his hands for a moment, then looked up, “You can’t ever accept a drink from someone you don’t know, okay?”
“I don’t,” she informed him as she helped him remove his blazer.
“You don’t?”
“No. I learned the hard way, but I learned,” she hung his blazer on the back of the office chair.
“That’s good. That’s real good. I feel better. World still sucks, though.”
He laid back on the bed, looking at the ceiling and promptly fell asleep.
Kate watched him breathe for a few minutes, then unpacked her bags and briefly stepped out of the room to place a few phone calls.
A short time later, while Kate again read through her presentation, she heard Tyler stir and turned in her chair to check in on him.
“Oh shit,” he bolted upright, “Kate, what if that asshole goes down the road and roofies some other girl?”
“I called the cops.”
“What? When?”
“When you passed out a little bit ago. They asked me to file a report online, and they called the two bars in the area and gave them my description.”
“I didn’t pass out.”
“You did. For about forty-five minutes. You snored.”
He eyed her skeptically. Those eyes. Good lord, was there even a name for that color? Not in any crayola box she’d seen.
“You did,” she imagined an alternative method in discovering he snored, but quickly redirected her thoughts.
“Do you have to go to New York?” He slurred.
“I’ll be back.”
“When?”
“I’m not sure yet. Get some sleep Tyler.”
“Hey Kate?”
“Yes?”
“I’ve wanted to kiss you two dozen times since we met. Atleast.”
She cocked her head and grinned, “Well what’s the holdup Tyler Owens?”
He smiled softly, “I’ve put the horse before the cart a few times. Too many times. Guess I didn’t want to, you know, I didn’t want to fuck this up, you and me. I mean I’ve been thinkin’ about kissin’ you since the day I first saw you, your hair all pulled into that clip, wearin’ that buttoned-up outfit and that serious beautiful face. Mile high walls up, and then you speak, and you’re fuckin’ brilliant and a little snarky -“
“I’m not snarky.”
“The snarkiest. Your mother agrees with me on this.”
“Of course she does.”
“Shush, I’m tryin’ to woo you with my words since my goddamned body feels like goo.”
“Well then go on. You’re doing fine.”
“I am?”
“Oh yes.”
He beamed, “so like I was sayin’, I didn’t want to fuck it up, and then the first time I saw you smile, like really smile, well, shit, I was done for. And then I really didn’t want to fuck it up. And I thought tonight, I’m not gonna blow it, and now,” he sighed. “Well, I can’t kiss you while I’m shitfaced. Can’t actually feel my lips right now,” he closed his eyes and touched his lips. “There they are. Okay I can feel them.”
She stifled a laugh. His inebriated declaration moved her to match his bold honesty, “I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone quite like you, and in case I haven’t made it very clear: I would like you to kiss me. Try not to worry on it. It’ll happen. And I’ll kiss you back, and then all of the other good things that come with that.”
He smiled, full teeth, “that is. S’wonderful. News.”
“Isn’t it?” She tried not to giggle. Even in this dingy motel room, Tyler practically glowed with health. Eternally sun-gilded, eyes that sparkled like a freshwater lake in summer, his sculpted body a vision of purpose.
He frowned, “what if I don’t remember?”
“I’ll remind you.”
“Promise?” His eyes so round he resembled what he must have looked like as a child.
“Cross my heart.”
“And you’re comin’ back?”
“Of course I’m coming back. The only thing I have in New York is a plant I’ve killed and replaced six times, a neighbor cat I pretend is mine, and workmates that think I don’t know their nickname for me is Elsa.”
“Who’s Elsa?”
“The snow queen.”
“You’re from Oklahoma.”
“It’s their terribly clever way of saying I’m an icy cold bitch.”
“What? But. You’re not. You’re kind and compassionate and who the fuck would think that?”
“It really doesn’t bother me,” she quietly thought on it for a moment. “This one guy, god he hates me, he hums, “let it go,” when I walk past him.”
“What’s that?”
“The song. You know.”
“How’s it go?”
Kate cleared her throat and hummed a few bars.
He shook his head “I don’t think I’ve heard it.”
“You’ve heard it,” Kate sang, “let it go, let it go, I don’t know the rest of the woooords.”
Mischief in his eyes, he smirked, “you’ve got a pretty voice.”
She laughed, “you shit, you know what song I’m talking about!”
“Course I know that song. I’m from Arkansas not Mars.”
She laughed and his heavy eyelids drooped again, “Tyler, go ahead and rest.
“Maybe just for a sec,” he stretched out across the bed and nearly instantly fell asleep again.
She turned back to her laptop and spent an hour extensively researching drugs used in date rapes, narrowing by state and then county. She reviewed the short and long term effects of the top three. Worst case scenarios always lapped her brain, and she found research could occasionally ease the anxiety. She tried reassuring herself that he likely metabolized quickly.
After an hour or so, he suddenly sat up, swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood.
She jumped up from her chair, “whoa, where you going?”
“Bathroom,” he closed one eye and pointed at the bathroom.
“Need help getting there?”
He used the edge of the bed as a handrail, working himself around it and closer to the bathroom, “I got it.”
She tried not to imagine him passing out and hitting his head as he shut the door. After he had flushed the toilet and the water ran for ten minutes Kate called through the door, “Tyler? You good?”
Tyler opened the door, shirtless, her toothbrush hanging out of his frothy mouth, “I’m good,” and he resumed brushing his teeth.
She eyed his white tee, button down and belt abandoned on the linoleum.
“Can’t stand my teeth feelin’ fuzzy,” he mumbled through a mouth full of toothpaste. He stopped brushing, eyes wide, “oh shit, this isn’t my toothbrush, cuz this isn't my room.”
She desperately attempted to retain her eyes on his face as she replied, “it’s fine.”
“What time is it?” He asked, post-gargle.
“Three AM.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“We should get some sleep.”
“That’s a great idea.”
He dropped to the bed like a felled tree, and seemed to find sleep immediately.
She attempted to wiggle his boots from his feet, which took quite a bit more effort than she anticipated, jostling him back awake in the process.
“Whatcha doin?” He raised to his elbows, watching her struggle with a fond amusement.
“Trying to help you,” she grunted, straddled his leg and yanking at the unmoving boot.
“You wanna help me, come on up here and cuddle me.”
She dropped his foot and peered at his lifted head, “Cuddle you?”
“Mmmhmm, c’mere Kate,” he held out his very attractive arms (that led to the rest of his very attractive body) to her as he easily toed off his boots.
She lowered herself next to him, and he pulled her flush against his chest, both strong arms wrapped around her. She adjusted slightly, and found herself unusually comfortable, given the hard terrain of his chisled chest.
“You clicked right into place like a lego; fit perfectly like you were made to go right here,” his voice rumbly from her location. “Legos click in, right? Did that make a damn bit of sense? Still feelin' a little smashed.”
His soft dark chest hair tickled her nose, “made sense and also accurate. Good job.”
“This’s nice. You smell nice. Like lemon merengue pie.”
“It’s my shampoo.”
He always smelled like everything she associated with love: wind-blown winter wheat fields, metallic dust, engine oil, earthy geosmin and crisp ozone. Tonight, his usual smells mixed with soap and that peppery manly cologne that seemingly every guy south of Nebraska wore.
She felt a bit self-conscious. Before this moment, they hadn’t even hugged. Strange to think, given how close she felt to him. The intimacy of having their bodies pressed against one another flicked inner switches she thought long dead. Shit, she hadn’t actually “cuddled” with anyone in a long long while. In five years. Not since the last time Jeb -
“Stop thinkin’.”
“How do you know I’m thinking?”
“Can feel it in your body,” he ran one large hand down over her shoulder, along her torso, skimmed over her hip and back again. “Rest Kate.”
She very nearly moaned, and swallowed before answering, “I’ll try.”
“Relax your body. Listen to my heart. You’re okay. I’m okay. Let’s sleep.” he nuzzled the top of her head with his chin. “Rest Kate.”
She smiled into his chest.
“Goodnight Sapulpa.”
“Goodnight Tyler.”
A few minutes passed, and her eyes began to feel heavy and her limbs leaden.
She relaxed, but she didn’t fall asleep for quite some time, just listening to his deep breathing, her head and hand falling into the rhythm of his chest. His strong heart beat a steady consistent rhythm , and she’d have been lying to herself if she didn’t consider for just a moment, that she belonged right here, in his arms, on his chest: warm, safe, cared for. Who wouldn’t want that?
She glanced up at his sweet little mouth, open and letting out even puffs of air. Who wouldn’t want him?
Talk about putting the cart before the horse.
Besides, the logistics bordered on nightmarish. Sure, she wanted him. Badly. But, the last time she had attempted to fuck some idiot plagued her brain. She’d finally given it a go after three years in New York, not because her heart called out, but because her body demanded it. The moment the making out progressed into something more, her heart rate picked up, her body rife with confusion, launched her into a full-blown panic attack. She ended up shoving him off of her, locked herself in the bathroom, vomiting and hyperventilating for an hour. She’d Uber’d home and completely swore off dating after that. Hell, after that, she’d even consume a glass of wine before masturbating to avoid the possibility of bringing on another panic attack. Add to that, her Jeb-based survivor’s guilt tainted any bit of attraction she felt for other men. It just hadn’t been on her mind anymore. It didn’t seem possible, so she stopped caring.
That disastrous date occurred years ago; she attempted to reason with herself. She drove straight into tornadoes now for fuck’s sake! When did that become less frightening than fucking a man who nearly made her come every time he called her Sapulpa (stupidest nickname ever.) Tyler had awakened a desire in her she thought she’d fully cremated.
She feared even trying. Good lord, if it went well, though - wasn’t it worth the risk? Wasn’t he worth the risk?
She’d argued with herself in this fashion a dozen times in the last forty-eight hours.
She must have fallen asleep for an hour or two, but awoke at first light, the little spoon, his heavy arm draped across her waist, his palm under her shirt, tucked around her abdomen.
She checked her phone and her flight status: on time. Disappointment weighted her to the bed for another moment, before obligations began stacking in her brain, and she slipped from beneath him to ready herself and her belongings.
She considered waking him but settled on grabbing a pen from her bag and jotting a note on a motel pad.
“Where you goin’?” he groused from bed.
She turned to see him sitting up and rubbing his eyes.
“My plane is on time. Javi’s downstairs.”
“I can drive you.”
She walked over to the bed and sat next to him, “best not drive yet. Just in case.”
“I’m fine.”
“I know but, for my peace of mind, just sleep a little longer and then hydrate.”
“When are you coming back?”
“Next week, at the latest. Go back to sleep.”
She stood and grabbed her suitcase handle. His chest tightened; her impending departure upset him in a way he couldn’t fathom. No concrete ties bound them; they’d made no promises. Kate’s face at the airport yesterday, “this could be it,” pinged around in his brain.
“Hey Sapulpa?”
She turned towards him, a moment from reaching for the doorknob.
“Don’t go.”
She again released the suitcase, sauntered to him, and stood between his legs. He tilted his face up, and her hands rested on either side of his face, sending tingles down his neck. Her thumbs brushing over his ears, her lips hovered so near to his, he thought he might be dreaming. Her eyes drifted shut, waiting generously for Tyler to seal the deal. He closed the centimeter between their mouths, crashing his soft warm lips into hers. Their kiss went from chaste to passionate in less than half a second, and Tyler pulled her down to straddle him upon the bed. He leaned back, taking her with him, and quickly flipped her beneath him, all without breaking the slow, wet, deep kisses they pressed upon each other. Their ministrations rounded corners neither had intended when Kate broke the kiss. His mouth detoured to her neck biting and kissing up to her ears, and she struggled to find coherent speech.
“I’d like to stay right here with you,” she huffed, breathless, “but, I, I have to go Tyler.”
“I know,” he kissed her cheeks, chin, nose and mouth, again, softly and too briefly.
“Next week?” He asked voice thick with desire, as she unclasped her legs from around his waist, realizing with chagrin she’d caged him in a thigh-vise.
“At the latest,” she smiled into his mouth, and he pulled her up to standing with him.
His brawny arms still trapped her against him when a knock at the door drew them back to reality.
He sighed, his nose nuzzling hers, “Javi’s impatient.”
“Reporting for duty!” Boone yelled through the door.
Tyler raised an eyebrow, pulling his face back to meet her eyes, “I don’t need a babysitter.”
She gripped his face in her palms, lovingly running her thumbs along his jaw, “I know you’re not feeling the effects anymore, but the half-life of Rohypnol is like twenty hours, if that’s even what he dosed you with. It just, it scares me Tyler. I can’t stay with you, but I don’t want you to be alone.”
He softened at her vulnerability, planted one last slow and impossibly gentle kiss upon her lips and whispered, “better let him in then.”
She opened her motel door to Boone’s enormous smile, “Heya Kate. Javi’s chomping at the bit down there; he says you’ll miss your flight if you don’t get a move on.”
“Thank you for getting here so fast,” she gave him a quick hug.
“No problemo,” he nodded and plopped down in the office chair, spun around once entirely, and then watched Kate and Tyler exchange a languishing look.
“Sent me your proposal?”
She smiled at him from the doorway, suitcase in hand, “yep.”
He returned her smile, “Call me when you land?”
“I will. Hydrate. Rest.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
When the door clicked to a close behind her, his heart ached, but with less finality.
“So? Did you do it? Did you kiss her?”
“C’mon, Boone, you know I don’t kiss and tell.”
“Yeah, but did you? Did you kiss her?”
“Course I kissed her,” he smiled proudly, falling back into bed to the sound of Boone’s signature “yip!”
One week, at the most.
Hell, he’d been searching for her his whole life; what was another week?
AUTHOR’s NOTE:
This was just supposed to be a fluffy lil fic I would return to whenever I got frustrated writing my other fics. Didn’t mean for it to turn into 5k words monster fic. Feed this writer with your comments, if you feel so inspired. I love reading your feedback.
I don't know if I can put my thoughts about this exchange into words, but I'm gonna try.
Kate has resolutely kept her walls up around Tyler for the majority of their interactions, but she just chose to be incredibly vulnerable with him. She let him see a fraction of how much pain she carries with her and it stops him in his tracks. (The camera literally stops panning around them the moment her dam bursts, and he stands completely still as she pours out her guilt over her past failure.)
Tyler respects Kate. He admires her capacity to read and to tackle this thing they both love. But now, for the first time, he's beginning to understand just how challenging storm chasing again actually is for her. How much fear and sorrow, how much trauma and torment it carries for her. He is stilled by the realization that this clever, fascinating woman is trapped under the weight of her past, and he gently encourages her to consider taking ownership of that pain by acting rather than surrendering.
But she's not ready. She side-steps his question entirely, stating that he should rest so he doesn't miss any storms the next day while wiping her tears away and trying for a bit of a smile.
And look at the way that shatters him.
He cuts himself off from replying and the grief in his face as he shakes his head and looks down shreds my heartstrings. Storm chasing is absolutely the last thing on his mind right now; he's concerned for her. He has taken every possible opportunity to seek her out in an effort to understand her since the moment their paths crossed. So maybe he's blindsided by the idea that she thinks his primary concern is not missing any storms. Normally, that might be true. He absolutely loves his job. The joy he finds out in the field chasing tornadoes radiates from his entire being every time he does it. And yet none of that passion comes close to how much he is centered on her and her pain in this moment.
But he can't tell her that. He's not ready to admit she is his primary concern and I think he recognizes in this moment that she's not ready to hear that yet either. She has effectively ended the conversation and dismissed him for the night. So he raises his eyebrows in a subtle agreement to go along with what she has said and he clamps his mouth shut. He returns her research notes to her and silently exits the barn to give her space.
And I cannot stop thinking about how much he just conveyed about the depth of his feelings for her with just a few micro expressions.
Here’s yet another Tyler x Kate fic - can’t stop myself ♥️🌪️
ANNUAL DERECHO
Kate’s anger came in tractable forms Tyler had easily categorized during their three months together. Most frequently when Tyler pissed her off, he’d easily disarm her with his warm charm or an earnest declaration. Occasionally, her quiet melancholy could metastasize into a subtle ire that she contained by seeking solitude. He knew this, and gave her the space she required to shake it off. These were rare occurrences, though, within her generally sunny and energetic mien.
For the last week, the team found themselves particularly unlucky in their weather chasing within Texas, resulting in tension and general unease. Kate never appeared perturbed by the losses, often taking to the radio with optimistic little comments: “Can’t wrangle them all.” “It’ll happen.” “Just a dry spell.” Tyler marveled at how a few encouraging words from Kate could reset the entire team’s attitude.
Today was different. She awoke with a biting choler dripping from each syllable. Simple questions, she met with curt monosyllabic answers, and avoided eye contact (her tell.) She busied herself with mundane tasks, anything it seemed, to avoid inertia.
He’d placed a hand on her back, and she’d bristled. She swerved to avoid his kiss, like she was dodging a fastball. The lightest physical affection she pulled from as though her skin burned from his touch.
His breakfast-loving Kate, who normally stacked hashbrowns and eggs into weird towers before consuming, who stuffed whole pancakes and sausages into a baggie “for later,” she’d say when rushed, today couldn’t be bothered to eat. Weather didn’t dictate rushing this morning, but she’d ordered only toast and coffee for breakfast, consuming a single bite of toast and three sips of black coffee (she preferred it sweet and creamy) before the scrutiny of his eyes upon her proved too much.
She’d mumbled, “not hungry, I’ve got to…” She’d stood up and left without finishing her sentence.
When he’d joined her in the truck (why wasn’t she sitting outside? The truck had to be moving for Kate to be happy within it.) she’d turned her knees away from him and dug through her bag, never finding what she sought.
Kate’s body broadcast her feelings better than words, something anyone with eyes could discern. Her shoulders lifted and tight, her jaw muscles clenched, she continued hunching over her computer, scowling at the screen. Every part of her looked wound tight, her countenance like a rubber band pulled to snapping.
He watched her face press into frustration while she typed furiously, pausing to pull out her tablet and only became further irritated with whatever she read.
“Stop staring at me,” she grumbled.
“You’re too damn pretty Kate; what the hell am I supposed to do? Like tellin’ someone to quit lookin’ at a sunrise.”
She didn’t respond with words, but her face momentarily transmuted from annoyance to a contemplative doleful expression. If he was reading her right, and he knew he was, guilt and regret had a hand in whatever was so obviously plaguing her.
“Something you want to talk about?” The bait probably too big for the hook, but he cast the line anyway.
“Like what?” She bit out, not raising her eyes from her screen.
“Weather? Politics?” She flinched at his words as though he yelled them through a bullhorn.
When she didn’t respond, he sighed quietly and said, “Just gonna check in with Dani and Dexter. If you need me, I’ll be across the lot.”
Her response was a terse nod again devoid of visual connection.
He whipped out a folding chair positioning himself next to Dani and Dexter; though his open laptop perched upon his denimed knees, his eyes barely left Kate’s form.
“She okay?” Dani asked, concern in her voice.
He gave her a brief reassuring smile, “She will be, but no, not right now she’s not.”
She didn’t require more of an explanation, and neither had Dexter, thankfully. Lily and Boone had driven into Galveston to pick up a part for the drone, relieving Tyler of the type of questions and interaction Boone would require given Kate’s behavior.
Several hours passed, and they asked little from Tyler. Instead, Dexter and Dani passed between them Doppler updates, snacks and weather chaser gossip as they reviewed disappointing projections.
When Javi’s truck pulled into the parking lot, Tyler straightened in surprise.
“Hey, thought Javi was in Galveston too,” Dani noticed. “Isn’t he supposed to be meeting with those fellas at NWS in Fort Worth?” Dexter asked.
“Far as I know,” Tyler murmured.
Javi parked near Tyler’s truck, hopped out and made a beeline for Kate. She glanced up, and an emotion Tyler couldn’t identify crossed her face.
She immediately shoved her tech aside, clambered out of the truck and briskly walked to Javi; when they reached each other, they hugged fiercely. Tyler could see her shoulders began shaking the way they did when she cried. She was fucking crying.
Tyler stood, started for them, and then stopped. Despite all of his instincts screaming to comfort her, he sat back down. Whatever the hell was going on between them, Tyler’s presence wasn’t needed, and he reminded himself to respect her boundaries. This did not come naturally to Tyler. He possessed a proclivity for protectiveness to the point of being downright territorial, though he hid it well, he thought. Thankfully, his desire to honor Kate’s wishes overrode any possessiveness that reared its very unattractive head.
Dexter patted him on the back, and quietly praised him, “well done.” Maybe he didn’t hide it that well.
It upset him to think on how all morning she had sternly rebuked his every attempt at connection, but Javi just appeared, and they were having this moment together.
Within this mounting frustration, an epiphany struck Tyler, and he whispered, “I’m an idiot.”
“What’s that?” Dani asked.
“Nothing,” he responded, his thoughts swirling with the formation of a plausible hypothesis for Kate’s mood, and Javi’s presence.
Now that he knew what he was looking for, Tyler studied their interaction for confirmation. Javi’s eyes were closed, but even from here, Tyler could see several rogue tears escape down his face. He said something, Tyler could see his mouth moving, and Kate pulled back a bit from Javi’s embrace, wiping roughly at her eyes and nose.
They continued to talk, Kate’s arms folded around herself as they did, and then to Tyler’s great relief, she half-smiled. Javi laughed lightly and Kate nodded. Javi pulled napkins from his pocket and handed half of them to Kate. She blew her nose, and he blew his, and they laughed again. Not joyous laughing, but still, it wasn’t crying.
Javi stuffed his napkins in his pocket and pointed at his truck. They hugged again quickly, Kate smiled wistfully, and Javi jogged back towards his truck. He caught Tyler’s eye, and with a subtle dip of his head offered a wordless greeting. Tyler returned it with a smile.
When Tyler tried to locate Kate again, she was walking quickly towards the convenience store across the street.
Tyler sauntered back over to his truck to wait for her to return and checked his phone, confirming his theory. Sure enough, on the same date, five years ago, an EF5 tornado ended the lives of Kate and Javi’s friends. He pulled open his phone’s calendar and typed: “Anniversary of Kate’s Tornado” and set it to a yearly reminder.
Kate exited the convenience store, and as she closed the distance between them, he smiled, “Hungry yet?”
She shook her head, and handed him a peace offering bottle of cold tea, “I’m sorry. I’ve been such a complete asshole today. I didn’t mean to - “
“S’okay Kate,” he smiled.
“It’s not. I’ve been awful to you.”
“You’re entitled to have a bad day every once in awhile.”
“Sure, but…I took it out on you,” she looked at the gravel and then up at him (finally! Prolonged eye contact!), her glassy eyes red-rimmed.
“I don’t want to hurt you. Ever,” she sniffed. “I’m so sorry. Forgive me?”
“Nothin’ to forgive,” he smiled softly. “Be alright if I hold you a minute?”
Unshed tears made her dusky sienna eyes sparkle, “Yes. Please.”
She leaned into his chest and he clutched her to him, one arm around her waist and one drawing her head closer. He kissed her head and stroked her hair. She unconsciously grabbed a fistful of his soft brown shirt like she was keeping him from pulling away.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered again, and he wondered if she was apologizing to some ghosts as well.
“It’s alright, honey. I can take it,” he kissed the top of her head again, and pulled her against him even tighter. He ran his thumb along her spine up and down slowly, “it’s alright.”
“Thank you,” she sniffed.
“For what?”
“For being you.”
AUTHOR’s NOTE: thank you to this beautiful fandom for all of your encouraging feedback. The dopamine hits from your comments is giving me life.
Was thinking of doing another chapter of this one from Kate’s perspective of the day. What do you think? Move on?
Am also working on two other Kate x Tyler fics - obsessed is an understatement.
You have any idea what you're getting yourself into? I'm beginning to.
DAISY EDGAR-JONES & GLEN POWELL as KATE CARTER & TYLER OWENS
TWISTERS (2024) dir. Lee Isaac Chung
Fixated On Twisters @wrangleandtame - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
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