The tension was thick in the air. It could be felt as if it were a tangible object. You could almost see the thoughts of the patron of the bar as they glared at the man holding them at gunpoint. Each one of them wanted a piece of him but they dared not be the first to garner his attention. Something about him made it obvious that he would do just as he said.<br/><br/>In the quiet chaos, the man holding the pistols outstretched at shoulder height did not waver. While the crowd on the other side of the barrels were antsy and unsure his face showed nothing but calm. His features were relaxed except for a small sly grin that belated his confidence that he had the situation well in hand.<br/><br/>From his positioning he could see everything. In his peripherals he could see the bartender on one side and his partner on the other. The bartender, he could give two shits about. He just as soon shoot him with the rest of this slime. He would be doing the city a favor. The woman, on the other hand, was probably the only other person breathing that he did give a shit about. Before he saw any of them hurt her, like as if they could, he would shoot and kill every single one of them.<br/><br/>It was like the calm within the storm but he was ready to strike like a waiting viper. And then a voice of reason broke the silence. He watched each step from the corner of his eyes as she crossed the carpet of bodies. Some completely unmoving while others moaned their way back to consciousness.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#08610e">”Might wanna listen to the lady. It might keep you from being dead later.”</span>His fingers rested on the triggers rather than above them to avoid any slip of a finger mishaps further indicating that he held no qualms about shooting any one of them.<br/><br/>He felt the firm yet gentle touch of her fingers on his upper arm. Her touch both soothed the beast inside him as well as stoked embers that were always present. For some time he tried to convince himself that it was just that partnership bond seeming like more to a workaholic cop with nothing else but his job. He loved his job but it didn't help him much socially.<br/><br/>But then he saw too many little signs from her that she might be sharing the same attraction. For instance, the hesitation to touch his cheek. They had gotten out of the bar without further altercation. Perhaps the rowdy crowd in the bar had enough time to do the math. It was after the fight, out on the sidewalk. She pulled back from touching his cheek. Why else would she pull back?<br/><br/>He touched his own cheek where the bruise would be in the morning. There was a little cut for the sugar on top but he had fixed himself up with worse.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#08610e">“What? This little thing? I've had worse than that on my…”</span>He was gonna say his dick but considering the underlying sexual tension that seemed about to explode at any moment, it might be better if certain body parts stayed out if the conversation. He knew she had a boyfriend of sorts, for now.<br/><br/><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#08610e">“Lets just say, on more sensitive areas. And hell yeah I'm up for another one. The ass kicking is optional but appreciated. It's hard not to be pumped up after kicking some ass. I think I'm up for more than another one. You got nothing else to do don't you?.”</span><br/><br/>As much fun as it would be for them to clean out another hole in the wall bar, he knew a place a bit more peaceful.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#08610e">“I know a place not too far from here. Bunch of old timers hang out there. Half of them cops. They play cards and tell old war stories. Not gonna find any action there.”</span>