Thread: Caught Between [LeatrixSage x Mr Quixotic]

Cole didn't glance back before he entered the musty house. With the heavy door having come down behind the vehicle in the windowless garage, he left Valentina with two options. Follow him in, or remain where she was as a form of protest. He wouldn't have put the latter past her, except for the fact that she hadn't yet received an opportunity to respond to his comment in the car. She wouldn't be able to resist. Despite the pressure of the day, and the circumstances, Cole felt buoyant and in a light mood. It wasn't an unusual reaction for him, as humour seemed to be the best medicine to relieve stress. He hardly noticed the state of the carpets after he'd on the lights his sole focus on the level of liquor in the bourbon bottles. He was surprised to find one was half-full and a second with the seal unbroken. Whittaker found a glass and poured three fingers as Valentina made her way in. He didn't ask if she wanted one. Instead, eyeing her intently, the Marshal lifted the glass to his mouth and savoured the warmth that flowed from his throat to the pit of his stomach. He refrained from spluttering it back out when his gaze drifted down to the sight of Valentina kicking off her heels. Then to her un-cuffed hands. She must have freed herself in the vehicle, though how was the question. Before he could ask it, she surprised him. Without warning, Valentina pressed the swell of her breasts to his back and placed a hand on his belt buckle. Cole tensed, fighting his instinctive urge to grab her wrist and pull it away from his sidearm before the sensation of her hot breath floating against his ear elicited goosebumps. When he turned his head, scowling and with pupils narrowed, he locked eyes with her. Valentina's mouth was close enough to kiss. For a second Cole's fist clenched around the tumbler, threatening to shatter it before the man relaxed. The events of the day were fucking with his mind, and he wasn't going to let her bait him. I'll trust your word on that, Valentina. Not the right way to go about getting a second date, I wouldn't think. He forced a smile when she walked away, doing everything in his power to pretend the view of her unbuttoning her blouse had no effect. After he'd polished off his drink and joined her in the kitchen, Cole grabbed one of the Hungry Man containers and scanned the contents. Don't blame me, I didn't stock the place, and takeaway's not mine either. He shrugged and handed the package back, I'll take either. I mean anything that's not chicken still tastes like chicken, right? And while I'm not surprised at all to hear you're a dab hand in the kitchen, I don't trust you not to try to poison me on purpose. Plus, believe it or not, I'm quite the cook myself. Have even microwaved my own dinner once or twice in the past. So, really, there's no need for the detailed instructions. Cole's good humour faltered, and he looked away. There was an awkward, almost cozy, domesticity about the exchange that had put him on the back foot. Valentina must have felt something too, for when he refocused on her face, she expressed a sudden desire to use the bathroom. Whittaker nodded and stood aside. He followed her path with a quizzical expression. When she'd moved out of sight, Cole approached the room she'd entered and heard the lock click behind her. Lips pursed, he decided not to demand that she undo the latch, and walked to the entrance foyer. Blinking red lights on the security panel confirmed that it was armed. Any attempt to open an exterior door or window without entering the correct six-digit pin number, from inside or outside, would set off an alarm loud enough to wake the dead. Surveillance cameras also covered every inch of the perimeter the live feed of which he could view on his phone or laptop. He'd set the internal motion detection sensors when they retired for the night. Satisfied they were secure, and that Valentina couldn't escape, he partially drew back the living room curtains. Cole peered out at the deserted street, contemplating the task ahead. The ding of the microwave brought him out of his reverie. Whittaker entered the kitchen and slid out the tray. He popped it onto the bench, slid Valentina's into the oven, and began to stir the potatoes as she returned. Once your dinner's ready. He spoke while he carried his meal around to the small dining table close by. Cole placed the food and two sets of cutlery on the wood. I want you to tell me about those audio tapes. Best to cease any casual chit chat and keep it strictly business, he'd concluded in her absence. Don't pretend they were friends, and don't treat her as one . He arched a brow, flopped into a seat and jabbed the prongs of a fork in Valentina's direction. While you're at it, I'd like to know what went on with that guard at the precinct. By the window, Cole had run the scene back through his mind and realised what he'd found discordant about it. Rather than the man holding Valentina, it'd appeared more as if she been propping him up. His gaze bore into her, Lying would not be a good idea, before his tone softened. A smirk tugged at his lips. 'In exchange for honesty, presuming you'd like a change of clothes and would rather not risk returning to the hotel to get the ones you left behind, I'll take you shopping in the morning. He neglected to add that they'd pick up an electronic ankle bracelet on the trip.