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The thing is—they’re supposed to be on a stakeout. They’re supposed to be keeping their eyes out for the most recent Monster of the Week. People could die. But instead of his focus being on the building ahead of him, his focus is to his right. Because Wynonna is being—well, Wynonna, actually, which is really distracting. She’s not really even doing anything, he’s aware of that, but every time she flicks her hair out of her face he can smell her shampoo and every time she shifts he’s hyperaware of her movements. At least she’s given the donuts a rest—does one person really need to spend five minutes sucking chocolate off their fingers? Dolls doesn’t think so.
So, they’re supposed to be on a stakeout, but it’s taking everything in his power not to look over at her.
They aren’t in the SUV because it’s too conspicuous. He doesn’t know whose car this is but it’s too small and she’s too close and he should have just come alone.
His only solace is that she hasn’t tried to strike up a conversation yet.
“Are you okay?” she asks quietly.
Okay, so much for that.
He gives her a Look, but she only rolls her eyes. “I’m fine.”
“Uh-huh, you know I can hear you grinding your teeth, right?” she replies, eyebrows climbing.
“Are you watching the house?” he demands. “I’m not grinding my teeth.”
“I’m watching,” she counters, hands held up in defeat. “Just, if there’s something goin—don’t bite my head off, but if there’s something going on that I should know about…”
“Nothing’s going on,” he grumbles, eyes going back to the house at the end of the cul-de-sac they’re supposed to be watching.
He can feel her eyes still on him but she doesn’t say anything, which is a small blessing. And, if he’s being honest if only with himself, it didn’t start with tonight. He doesn’t know when this started, but he was in too deep before he’d even realized he’d dipped his toes in. It’s been like this for weeks—the awareness of where she is, the feeling like he has to be closer, the gentle touches that started out friendly but now seem to last too long by a breath and a half. He knows she’s picked up on it, but he’s not sure to what extent. She knows there’s something, he thinks, but she can’t know if he doesn’t even know what that is, right?
His walls, his boundaries and safeguards, need rebuilding. She doesn’t even seem to realize that a look sends them crumbling.
Her fingers brush his wrist and she presses the thermos into his hands.
As he’s sipping at the overly sweet brew, a car passes them slowly and pulls into a nearby driveway.
“Have we thought about what our cover is if a neighbor decides to find out why we’re just… out here... in a car… in the dark?” Wynonna asks thoughtfully, rolling the thermos lid between her palms.
“Do you really think someone is gonna commit to investigating?”
“Well, there’s a lady in that house who keeps looking out the window at us,” she states pointedly, gesturing at the house directly to his left. “I bet she thinks we’re a couple of horny kids too dumb to park off the highway in the woods like normal people,” she laughs, shifting to lean into his space to squint out the window.
He’s turned in to her before he even consciously makes the decision, mashing their mouths together. She flails a little bit with the hand that isn’t supporting her weight on the console before it lands on his thigh. The kiss is very Wynonna, it’s too much teeth and pressure and just too damn much all at once and he can’t help but groan when her tongue slides into his mouth, teasing against his. There are alarms going off in his head because they are working but they’re drummed out by the steady need that’s been growing almost without his knowledge and certainly without his permission.
A light flashes into the car and they break away gasping in time to see a car speed off.
“Shit,” she hisses. “I think that was our guy.”
“You think?” he growls, more to himself than to her as he turns the key in the ignition and throws the car in gear. “Hang on.”
“You have the worst timing—coming from me? That’s something,” she says, voice more amused than irritated.
He doesn’t respond, and the engine whines when he hits the accelerator. As car chases go, this one doesn’t even get to the white-knuckle stage before the other car swerves on the icy roads and… directly into a tree. Dolls slams on the breaks, the car screeches, and Wynonna’s out before they’re even stopped.
“I usually have like a whole quippy speech,” she says, brandishing Peacemaker as the Rev stumbles out of the wreckage. “But you sorta interrupted something, so, make your peace or not, you’re going back to Hell.”
The guy certainly looks like he’s got something to say but Wynonna catches him right between the eyes.
“That was uncharacteristically brief,” he comments, sidling up next to her.
“No more talking,” she whispers, smoothing her palms over his chest before pulling him close. They breath in the same space for a long moment before their lips slide together, too easy and too calm for the frantic desire beating against his ribs but he stomps that down. She pulls away and searches his eyes for beat before asking, “So, do you wanna go find a spot in the woods off the highway to make out like horny teenagers?”
“Wynonna,” he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “We’re adults. With homes. And beds.”
But she just smiles, bright and sweet with no hint of that usual edge and it sets off this weird explosion in his gut.
When she wraps her arms around his neck and orders him to kiss her again, he’s helpless to do anything but oblige.