CW: Discussions of sexual assault. Specifically, a statement from Dahlia's abuser. This discussion of what happened to Dahlia isn't just a one-off. Trauma has a lasting impact on people. Dahlia isn't magically cured just because she played the piano and got over one hurdle. It kind of comes in waves. Sometimes the waves are light and we can withstand them and other times, they knock us right off of our feet (this is my personal experience after going through therapy and looking back on my assault years later, yours might be different).
This is my way of telling you that this is going to be a recurring theme for Dahlia. As a survivor, I will always treat this subject with the utmost compassion and empathy. If you're also dealing with something like this, please take care of yourselves, talk to someone you trust, know that you're very, very loved and I'm grateful that you're here 💓
Other content warnings: Drug use, smut (oral sex), daddy kink, alcohol use, and violence.
"He what?!" Wanda hisses.
It's just the two of them in the shop. Kate and Scott are coming in later in the morning with coffee and croissants. Dahlia is working on mockups for Steve's birthday party.
James dropped her off early this morning. She feels even closer to him after last night. The way he held her all night. He never left he side without making sure that she needed something. James always makes sure she's taken care of. He's everything she could have possibly dreamed of and more. He made her gnocchi for lunch as promised, and Dahlia made him a peanut butter sandwich when she woke up. She even put it in a paper bag and wrote his name on it with a little heart. He blushed and told her no one had done that for him in years.
Dahlia is finding it difficult to be without him. He's become such an integral part of her life. She laughs. She told Wanda a little bit about her night when she asked.
"He asked me if I wanted to do this... traffic light system, and we got a little—"
"Fifty Shades of Grey with it," Wanda finishes.
"No!" Dahlia laughs. "Fuck no. Nothing like that."
"But he slapped you and stuff."
"Yeah. And pulled my hair and... fuck it was hot."
"Did he make you sign a contract?" Wanda asks.
"What?"
"Like in the movie!" Wanda says softly.
"No! I don't really get that part of the movie," Dahlia replies as she messes around with photoshop on the shop computer, trying to get the right shade of black. If they're going to dye these roses, they're going to need to start putting things together soon.
"It's a real thing," Wanda replies.
"I know it's a real thing, I just... I just wanted some dick, I didn't want to get a whole lawyer involved," Dahlia mutters as Wanda chuckles. "Besides, James and I aren't about to organize the particulars of our relationship with a contract. I would feel really weird about that."
"So you wouldn't want to be permanently submissive to him?"
Dahlia shakes her head.
"That's very much not my thing — again, it works for other people—"
"Why are you trying to not offend the nobody in the room?" Wanda asks. "We're alone, Dahl. You can say what you think."
"I'm trying to be respectful, Wands!" Dahlia hisses. "Some people like that kind of relationship and it works for them. Come on. I thought you were all open-minded and shit."
Wanda takes a deep breath and nods.
"Okay, yeah. I was being unfair and close-minded. I'm sorry. That was wrong of me."
Leave it to Wanda to run her mouth and then immediately admit that she's wrong. She's got the right spirit, but she doesn't always think before she speaks. Dahlia nods.
"Thank you. Besides, our dynamic only exists in the bedroom. When have I ever been submissive to a man outside of that?"
"That I've seen?" Wanda asks as she bites into a Red Vine and chews thoughtfully.
"Exactly," Dahlia replies.
"James," Wanda replies.
Oh.
"What?"
Wanda rolls her eyes, kicking her legs as she sits on the counter doing a whole lot of not helping even though that's why she came in early.
"Come on, Dahlia. You let him give you a car, he buys you fucking designer clothes, you drop everything to answer his texts, you ignore everything else when—"
"That's not being submissive, that's being hormonal and in love and shit!" Dahlia replies. "I'm not submissive to him."
At least, she doesn't think she is.
"When's the last time you said no to him?" Wanda asks.
Dahlia raises a brow.
"What are you doing?"
"Asking a question!"
"You've always got an agenda, Wands."
Wanda sighs.
"I just... like two months ago you were saying you didn't need a man. At all. Ever. And now..."
"Are you mad at me for getting a boyfriend?" Dahlia inquires.
"No!" Wanda exclaims. "I just miss my bestie."
Dahlia sighs softly and abandons her work at the computer. She hops up on the counter with Wanda and rests her head on her shoulder. Wanda offers her a Red Vine. Dahlia laughs.
"It's 8:30am."
"Never too early for candy," Wanda replies softly.
Dahlia takes it and bites into it.
"I'm sorry I haven't been around as much," she whispers. "But you know I love you, right?"
"Yeah. I just miss our shitty movie nights! I like Kate but she's not you."
"I know."
"You could even bring James. I would pay at lot of money to watch him eat mac and cheese right out of the pot."
Dahlia laughs.
"I'm sure he'd find a way to make it look hot."
"Yeah, that's true. He's always gorgeous — is he always gorgeous? Does he have bad breath in the morning?"
"I haven't noticed, but yeah, he's pretty much always gorgeous."
"Bastard," Wanda whispers.
Dahlia sighs.
"How about we do a movie night tonight? I'll text James, we can have Scott and Kate over... he can meet everyone."
Wanda raises both eyebrows.
"I actually really like that idea! A little In Bloom bonding time!"
"Let's do it!" She hops off of the counter and grabs her phone, pulling up James's contact information. She sends him a text.
What are you doing tonight?
Dahlia sees him typing, but her attention is pulled away by someone rapping on the door. Scott and Kate aren't supposed to be in for another hour and a half. Wanda looks over her shoulder. Both of them spot a heavyset man in an LAPD uniform with short dark hair and puffy cheeks.
"Why is there a cop here?" Dahlia asks.
"No idea," Wanda replies. "You want me to—"
"No, I got it," Dahlia whispers. She scoots past Wanda and walks toward the door, unlocking it and opening it. The man is around James's height with light eyes, his brow knit into a semi-permanent frown.
"Sorry to bother you, miss Davies — you are Dahlia Davies, is that right?" He has a slight twang to his voice and there's sweat forming at his hairline.
"That's me."
He sticks out his hand.
"I'm detective Bodecker with the Los Angeles Police Department. I was wonderin' if I could ask you a few questions."
Dahlia raises an eyebrow as she reaches out to shake his hand. One thing she learned from her childhood was never talk to cops. Cops only make things worse.
"About what?" Dahlia asks.
Detective Bodecker sighs softly.
"David Barlowe. I just have a few questions, I won't take up too much of your time."
Dahlia's stomach knots. Her feet feel like they're glued to the floor and her legs seem like they're almost made of lead.
"Sure. Come on in."
She leads him inside and locks the door behind them. Wanda has jumped off of the counter and leans up against it, eyeing Detective Bodecker with suspicion. He sighs softly as Dahlia leans up against it and crosses her arms over her chest. Detective Bodecker glances at the pack of Red Vines on the counter and Wanda smirks.
"You want one, officer?"
"If that's all right with you?"
"Of course."
She slides the pack over and he takes one, shoving it into the side of his mouth like it's a cigarette.
"I'm sure you've read by now that David Barlowe is missing."
"Yeah," Dahlia says softly. "I, uh, I heard from a friend."
"Which friend?"
"Karli Morgenthau," Dahlia replies. "We were roommates when we went to USC."
Bodecker nods and writes something down in his notebook.
"That's actually what I came here to talk to you about. We searched Mr. Barlowe's house, as a matter of... precaution. Always important to do with missing person's cases. Uh..." He runs a hand through his hair. "We found something in his possessions."
"What?" Dahlia asks.
"It was a letter. To you." He pulls it out of his jacket and holds it up. Dahlia's blood runs cold and she and Wanda exchange a look. Bodecker sighs softly. "There's some disturbing material in here, Dahlia. Related to you."
"What kind of material?"
"Well, I'd call it a confession... an admission of guilt. In this letter, he admits to stalking you, to attempting to sexually assault you, and getting your personal information from his friend who worked in IT at USC."
Tears sting her eyes and her chin begins to tremble. Wanda reaches for her hand as Bodecker rips off a bite of his Red Vine and chews it.
"So what are you looking for?"
"Dahlia, I need to know if you had a grudge against Mr. Barlowe."
"Do you think he went missing because of her?" Wanda asks.
"We're not sure," Bodecker replies. "But this looks like the smoking gun. Dahlia, have you had any contact with Mr. Barlowe recently?"
"No. To tell you the truth, I've spent most of the last five years trying to avoid him and not think about what happened. I'm still dealing with a lot of the emotional fallout from that."
"I understand, Miss Davies. Are you sure you haven't had any contact with him?"
"No." She shakes her head. "You're welcome to look through my emails and texts, but I swear I'm telling you the truth."
Bodecker tilts his head as Dahlia stares at him, her eyes filled with sincerity. She still can't quite believe what she's hearing. He wrote a letter? And he fucking admitted everything after years of denying it to her face and telling her that she came onto him? Her blood is boiling just thinking about it. If he had just admitted what he had done, she could have at least had some fucking closure. He could have resigned in disgrace, or resigned quietly and taught at another university... where he'd do this to someone else.
Dahlia knows for a fact that she's not the only girl he's done this to. She has names of other girls in her program who were either assaulted, or who pushed him away and suffered the same fate that she did. She doesn't know them, she's only heard of their stories tangentially. After the whole Me Too thing started, the USC music department almost imploded with accusations, most of them on Twitter and most of them toward Barlowe.
USC turned a blind eye, despite being tagged in the fucking tweets. Dahlia just watched in silence, unwilling to share her story while so many other women did. She admired their bravery, but she felt like a coward.
"I believe you, Miss Davies." He chows down on the rest of the Red Vine and heaves another sigh as he writes in his notebook. "Did you ever report the attempted assault to the police?"
"No," she whispers.
"Why not?"
"Well, historically, you guys tend to treat victims like suspects, and suspects tend to walk."
He scoffs.
"Everyone thinks they know this job, not many people have the guts to actually do it."
"I thought you were asking questions," Wanda says pointedly.
"So you never reported the assault?" Bodecker asks.
"No."
"Did anyone else know?"
"Just Wanda," Dahlia replies. She's not about to bring up James's name. There's no reason for the cops to talk to him. To Dahlia, this letter is sounding a lot more like a suicide note. Maybe he really did go to Europe to kill himself. Maybe he thought he really thought he was sick like Karli said. She doesn't want to tell Bodecker what she knows, it would probably just lead to more questions. All she really wants to do is move on with her life after David took so much of it from her.
"You're Wanda," Bodecker says as he gestures at her with his pen.
"In the flesh," Wanda replies.
"Do you know anyone else who would want revenge against David?"
"Tons of girls," Dahlia replies. "He actively groomed his students."
"Do you have names for me, Miss Davies?" Bodecker asks.
"Uh, I can write down the names of the girls I remember."
"That would be helpful. Do you know if any of them reported assaults?"
She shakes her head as Bodecker passes her his pad of paper, turned to a fresh page. She's tempted to flip it over to see what he's written about her. Dahlia grabs a pen and writes down four names. One of them was the girl he chose after her, Daniella. She was a musical prodigy, one of the best in Dahlia's program. David took her under his wing immediately. They dated for a while. According to her Twitter, the relationship was fucked up from the start. He controlled how she spent her money, what classes she took, and who she could hang out with, all while he insisted they keep their relationship a secret so that he wouldn't lose his tenure.
Dahlia looks up at Bodecker as she writes the final name.
"Does USC know about this letter?"
"It's been brought to their attention, yes."
Dahlia nods and hands him his notebook. Bodecker looks over the list of names and gives a small nod.
"Thank you, Miss Davies. This is extremely helpful. I won't take up any more of your time." He tucks his notebook back into the pocket of his leather jacket and turns on his heel. Dahlia reaches out.
"Detective Bodecker?"
He turns his head.
"Yes?"
"Can I have the letter?"
Her curiosity is insatiable. She wants to see what's in it.
"I'm afraid it's evidence, Miss Davies."
"Could I at least read it?"
He sighs again and fishes the letter out of his pocket, handing it to her. It's in a white envelope with her name written on it. Even David's handwriting gives her the creeps. She fishes it out of the envelope and unfolds it.
"Dahlia, do you want to do this in another room?" Wanda asks.
"No. I want to see what he said."
Dahlia,
I feel guilty every day for what I've done to you. You're bright and beautiful, and it kills me to know that my actions made you quit doing the thing you loved the most in the world.
Her eyes well up with tears. He's still making this about himself.
"If you felt so guilty, why didn't you say something to me?" She whispers.
The letter continues.
Dahlia, I'm sick. I've been sick for a long time. I can't explain to you what that entails. Sometimes, I can't control myself and I've been this way ever since I can remember. I think there's something really wrong with me, Dahlia. I drink to cope with the hurt I've caused, and my life is in shambles behind closed doors.
I wonder what you're like now. You were always so bright and beautiful. I wish things could have been different.
Briefly, she scans the letter. It's detailed, but her eyes never find the words I'm sorry once. If she continued to read carefully, she would just end up reliving that day again, and the aftermath of the assault where she lived in abject terror from this man who told her he knew where she lived and that if she said anything, he could kill her. She believed him. Part of her still does.
She scoffs and folds the letter back up, refusing to engage with it anymore.
"I've seen enough. Thank you, Detective."
"You're welcome, Miss Davies." He hands her a card with his name and number on it. Lee Bodecker. "If you need anything, or if you have more names, please feel free to give me a call and let me know."
"Thank you," she says softly.
She won't call him. She doesn't have any more information. Dahlia already knows she shouldn't have read that letter. Detective Bodecker gives her one last nod before he walks out the door. Wanda locks it behind him as Dahlia buries her face in her hands.
"Hey! Hey!" Wanda whispers, running over to her and wrapping her arms around Dahlia, rocking her back and forth. "It's okay."
"I shouldn't have read it," she whispers. "I knew that shit was gonna be in there and I shouldn't have fucking read it."
"Dahlia, you were curious. Anyone would be in your situation."
"I don't know about that," she mutters, wiping tears away from her face as Wanda squeezes her a little tighter.
"Do you need anything from me?"
"I'm just glad you're here," Dahlia whispers.
"I've always got your back, Dahl. No matter what happens. You could totally kill a person and I'd be like, 'Your majesty—'"
"It's Your Honor."
"Seriously?"
"Wanda, we've watched 200 episodes of Law & Order, when have they ever said Your Majesty?" Dahlia laughs.
"I don't know, man! I was high! Anyway, even if you totally killed a guy, I'd be testifying on your behalf. Because maybe the guy deserved it."
"Men often do," Dahlia whispers.
"Amen!" Wanda laughs.
Dahlia sighs softly and her phone buzzes. She turns it over and finds four missed texts from James.
[James 🖤]: I am completely free. What's going on?
[James 🖤]: How's the morning?
[James 🖤]: Steve likes the concept for the arrangements, by the way. Send the mockups to me and I'll forward them to him myself.
[James 🖤]: Can I bring anything for tonight?
"Hey, Wands? Can James bring anything for tonight?"
"Booze. Expensive. I know that bitch has good taste."
Dahlia chuckles.
Sorry, some cop came by to talk to me. We're having an In Bloom staff party at my place, and as our primary funder, I think you deserve an invite. We're going to watch movies, you can watch Wanda get high, it's always a blast.
[James 🖤]: A cop came by to talk to you?
Yeah. It was about David Barlowe.
[James 🖤]: What was his name?
Lee Bodecker. He said David wrote a letter. To me. It reads like a suicide note.
[James 🖤]: He let you read it?
It was addressed to me, so yeah. I read it. Why?
Her phone rings. It's James. Dahlia heads into her office and closes the door, showing Wanda who it is. Wanda nods and hops back onto the counter.
"James?"
"Dahlia, what was in the letter?"
"He said he was sick, that he had been sick for a long time. He played the victim card. Typical abuser bullshit. I didn't expect him to take any accountability."
James is quiet.
"James, please talk to me."
"Are you okay?"
"I wasn't, but Wanda gave me a big hug. She's here for moral support, I've got work to focus on, and a bag of Red Vines sitting on the counter for me to eat, so I'll be all right."
She can hear him chuckle over the phone.
"You're a tough girl, Dahlia. It's just part of the reason why I love you so much."
"I love you too," she whispers.
"Can I do anything?"
"Just pick us up at 6:00 tonight?"
"All four of you?"
"Yep. Wanda says bring booze."
"Dahlia, are you sure you're all right?"
She sighs and can't help but roll her eyes.
"James, I'm not fragile."
"I know that. I never said you were. I want to make sure that you feel safe and secure. What else did Bodecker ask you?"
Why does he want to know?
"He asked for a list of names. Other girls. I gave them to him." She presses her palm to her forehead. "Fuck, maybe I shouldn't have done that."
"How do you know about them?"
"Twitter. They all posted about it at one point or another. The school knew about them, too."
"Well, then you didn't do anything wrong."
"Okay."
The girls' reports were on file, so Dahlia knows she's in the clear, but she still feels guilty in a way. This shame is never ending. She wonders how long she's going to have to live with it. She thought that telling James and confronting her demons by playing the piano would somehow do something to help ease what she's going through, but it's just a small step forward. She's been trying to run from this for so long. It's going to take years to unpack.
"Dahlia?"
"I'm here, James."
"Okay. Just checking."
"How's your morning?"
"Good. Steve and I are just on a little field trip. Stevie, say hi to Dahlia."
Another voice gets on the phone.
"Hi, Dahlia. I believe I still owe you a burger."
She laughs.
"Don't worry about it."
"No, I'll worry about it. How's lunch on me sound?"
"That would be really nice. Thank you, Steve."
"No problem. It'll be there around 1:00. Unless you've got any vegetarians working for you."
"Nope."
"Great. Your boyfriend would like to speak to you again. Thanks for doing the arrangement for my birthday, by the way. I look forward to seeing you there."
Is he flirting with her? Dahlia can't really tell.
"Yeah, no problem."
"Dahlia?" James asks. "We gotta go. I'll see you tonight at 6:00. I'll have Peter drive me over and we'll pick you up."
"Okay."
"I love you. Have a good day, okay?"
"I will. I love you too."
The line goes dead and she smiles. James sends one last text.
[James 🖤]: Are you off tomorrow?
Yeah, it's Wednesday.
[James 🖤]: Good. I'm taking the day off. You wanna spend the day together? I'll make you and Wanda breakfast.
I would love that.
[James 🖤]: Okay. I really have to go now. I'll see you later, peach.
See you 😘
[James 🖤]: 😘
Dahlia pockets her phone and walks back outside. Wanda is flipping through a magazine.
"Everything cool?"
"Yeah. Lunch is paid for, by the way. Burgers courtesy of Steve Rogers."
"Nice," Wanda whispers. "You sure you're good?"
"Yeah, I'm fine." She nods. "I really am. I feel... relieved that David is gone. Maybe forever."
Wanda rubs her back.
"For your sake, I hope he's dead."
Dahlia sighs.
"Is it bad that I hope he is too?"
"No." Wanda shakes her head. "I think the feeling is justified."
🌺 🌺 🌺
Bodecker. Fuck. He's not the worst cop to have on Barlowe's case, but he's not ideal. He's useless, but he's not completely useless. The only thing he has going for him is that he hates Walker just as much as James does.
He looks at Dahlia's contact photo in his phone and smiles. It's the most affection he's ever felt for a human being. James wasn't so sure he was capable of it after so many years of feeling nothing. Father Paul will be proud to hear that he's gotten a piece of himself back. A text from Rebecca comes through.
[Becs]: Got that girl's name you asked for. Melanie Boyd. She's a dancer at Walker's club. Newborn baby. No father on the birth certificate, but hospital footage has Walker there at the time of the kid's birth. His bank records also indicate he's been giving her massive amounts of money. And he just bought them a house.
Explains why he wanted twenty percent.
Where?
[Becs]: San Francisco. His finances are all over the place. Multiple withdrawals, multiple accounts, multiple credit cards. Some are in his name, some aren't. Offshore accounts, too. He's got his money tied up in different real estate shit in three different states.
Probably trying to do what James is doing and expand his little club. It's not easy to expand. Suddenly, Walker needing that money from the shipment makes a hell of a lot more sense.
What the fuck is he doing?
[Becs]: I don't know, but he's shady.
All cops are shady.
[Becs]: Says the mobster.
Thanks, Becs. Hey, Dahlia is excited to meet you on Friday, by the way.
[Becs]: I found her Instagram. She's cute. You did good, little brother.
Little by three and a half minutes.
[Becs]: That's still younger!
How did you get into her Instagram if it's private?
[Becs]: A magician never reveals her secrets.
You guessed her password, didn't you?
[Becs]: Not telling! See you Friday. I'll bring whiskey. We're playing Truth or Drink.
Absolutely not.
[Becs]: 😫 BOOOOOO
Goodbye, Becs.
James doesn't know how she does all of this and links it together, but Rebecca's a fucking genius. He just likes to watch her work.
James pockets his phone as Steve parks the car in front of Walker's precinct. They have to get Yelena's shipment back today, and they've decided to take matters into their own hands since Walker has been too much of a coward to meet with them. They're taking the rest of the shipment that James knows for a fact is sitting in the evidence locker.
Walker's "assault" was all over the news this morning. He blamed it on a gang of kids who jumped him while he was "investigating" his own club and he's on desk duty for the rest of the month. For once, Walker's done all the right things.
Except for give James what he wants.
They step out of the car and walk into the precinct. It's already packed with people. James and Steve walk right past the front desk. An officer steps out and blocks their entrance into the bullpen. It's filled with people giving statements, shouting, and being led away by officers in handcuffs. This place is a fucking mess.
"Excuse me, sir, you have to sign in."
James stares at her, his gaze icy. Another officer comes up behind her and whispers in her ear. She turns bright red.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Barnes. Go right ahead."
James scoffs.
"Better treatment than I'm used to getting around here."
"Maybe Walker's coming around," Steve mutters as they walk toward his office. The door is closed, but James can see him sitting at his desk. He walks straight into Walker's office, pushing the door open. Walker's face looks like shit. It's battered and bruised, and he has stitches in his lip from where James split it. Steve gave him a nice shiner on his left eye. James can see the indent from one of his rings. Walker sighs as Steve closes the door and the blinds.
"What the fuck are you doing here?"
"I have 24 hours before the Russians are on my ass, Walker. Give me the fucking weapons at least, and give me the drugs that are in your evidence locker."
"I can't do that. We need them for trial."
James cracks his knuckles.
"You're really testing me here, Walker." He tilts his head. "Did you get the package we sent you? We have more. Just say the word and we'll wrap him up for you."
"You're both fucking sick," Walker growls. "Get out of my office."
James slams his hand down on Walker's desk, causing the coffee in his cup to slosh and spill over the side. Walker jumps.
"GIVE ME MY FUCKING SHIPMENT!" He roars. "You have dicked me around for too goddamn long." James leans forward, lowering his voice to a soft whisper. "I killed Rumlow, and Lennox is dead too. You don't have a lot of allies left, John. It would be unwise to make me even more upset with you. I told you, if you work with me, I'll make you rich, but you seem to be really fucking stupid. Do you really want the Widows after you? Belova is livid. Mostly with me right, now but I can easily turn her against you. See, she likes me. We've been doing business together for a long time and I respect her. I'm also... afraid of her, to tell you the truth." He laughs and looks around. "She'd burn your entire precinct to the ground."
"You think you can come into my office and intimidate me?" Walker asks.
"Yeah," Steve replies. "We're doing a pretty damn good job of it. Nice face, by the way."
James and Steve giggle.
"Come on, Walker. Give me what I want." Walker exhales and James grins. "I know why you won't give it up. If you give up the shipment, it means you don't have any more leverage. It means that I win."
"Fuck you, Barnes."
"Fuck me, no you fuck this—" He pulls out a gun and points it directly at Walker's forehead. "I'll turn this place into a goddamn bloodbath."
Walker scoffs.
"Yeah? You and Rogers gonna Bonnie and Clyde your way out of here?"
"We've done worse," Steve replies with a smile. "And lived to tell about it."
"Give me the FUCKING SHIPMENT!" James roars. His voice lowers to a whisper. "Are you forgetting about your kids? What about the fact that you're funnelling money into secret accounts?"
Walker's face pales as James puts his gun back into his shoulder holster.
"How do you know about that?"
"Because I'm a fucking genius," James whispers. "You could move your wives and kids across the country and I'd find you in the blink of an eye. Don't test me, John. Or me leaking the fact that the Chief of Police has a secret little family on the side is going to be the least of your fucking worries."
"You wouldn't kill a kid."
Steve scoffs.
"That's funny."
"It is funny, isn't it?" James asks him with a grin on his face. He turns back to John. "Walker, I'd kill anyone and everyone I had to to get what I want. Where's the shipment."
Walker hangs his head and pushes his chair out.
"Follow me."
Steve gets on the phone and starts texting. Peter and Ned aren't too far away with the van and Yelena is waiting back in James's office. He doesn't have 24 hours, he has about four before she goes batshit crazy, trashes everything, and comes after him.
And Dahlia.
James has to hide the fact that his heart is pounding beneath his suit. Yelena's voice rings through his head.
"Tick tock, Barnes."
They leave the office and walk toward the evidence locker. John stops in front of the cage, pulls out a clipboard, and motions for the other officer to leave the room.
"Take your lunch."
The other officer nods and slips out of the room while John unlocks the cage and lets them inside. Steve pulls out his gun and aims it at Walker's back.
"No funny stuff, John."
"Got it," Walker whispers. "No funny stuff."
He leads them to a large room at the back and opens it with a large key. He pushes the door open and James sighs with relief when he sees his shipment, most of it is still in crates, but some of the larger weapons are laid out on a table.
"How much of it is missing?" James asks as he starts grabbing crates. "And don't think you're not helping us load this shit up, Walker. There's an entrance out to the back, right?"
"Yeah."
"I told Peter to meet us out there."
"John!" James barks. "How much is fucking missing?! I asked you a goddamn question!"
"Just the drugs."
James stops in his tracks, his eyes going wide.
"How much?"
"A quarter? I don't fuckin' know!"
James clenches his fist and his jaw ticks, muscles twitching beneath his skin. He wants to swing at him. That's well over a million dollars worth of product. James takes a deep breath.
"You have black tar heroin in your evidence locker that you confiscated from the Cartel," James informs him. "It's high quality shit. You'll replace what's missing with that and I'll deal with Yelena."
"I'm not going—"
"YOU'RE GOING TO DO WHATEVER I TELL YOU TO DO, WALKER!" James bellows. "You've pissed me off for the last time. Get your dumbfuck ass into one of those lockers and get it for me."
"Or what?" Walker asks.
"Or I fucking execute you right here and dump your body in the Pacific Ocean. You decide. You're not armed, John. You left your holster upstairs with your gun still in it, and I know you can barely throw a goddamn punch. You've got a shit right hook."
Walker sighs and turns on his heel. As James looks over at Steve, he whips around and punches James right in the jaw. James stumbles backward and feels a welt growing beneath his fingertips as he touches the spot. Steve leaps into action, grabbing Walker by the shoulders and kneeing him in the gut. Walker goes down like a ton of bricks.
"Gimme the fuckin' keys, Walker. Stop trying to be a hero."
James takes a deep breath.
"Stevie, what's my face look like?"
"You'll have a nice bruise tomorrow."
"Son of a—" he walks over to Walker and starts kicking him in the ribs. "I'M. SUPPOSED - TO HAVE - A FUCKING - DATE - TONIGHT!" One more kick right to the gut. "FUCK!"
"Buck, chill out."
"Fuck you, Rogers!" James spits.
Steve rolls his eyes and digs in Walker's pockets for his keys. John is still conscious, but just barely. Steve walks over to one of the lockers as they hear a knock at the back door. James steps over Walker to answer it and Peter stands outside with Ned.
"We brought the vans, Mr. Barnes."
"Good, let's make this fast. Ned? Can you drag Johnny into the corner there? Wouldn't want you boys to trip over him."
"Sure thing, Mr. Barnes," Ned replies.
John continues to lay on his stomach, groaning and writhing around like a wounded animal while they carry box after box out. Steve emerges from the locker with large bricks of black tar heroin and helps them load it into the van. The back lot is empty, and they work quickly enough that they're not around long enough to arouse suspicion. Once everything is loaded into the vans, Peter and Ned take off for the hotel.
James forces Walker to get to his feet. Walker looks like he's going to be sick. James claps him on the shoulder.
"See what you get when you cooperate with me?"
"Yeah, fucked up."
James chuckles.
"Walker, I don't want to hurt you."
"Yes, you do."
He throws his head back and laughs.
"Yeah, okay, I do. But now you see what happens when you fuck with me?" He taps Walker on a particular tender looking spot on his cheek, relishing as Walker flinches. "It's been lovely doing business with you, Johnny. Until next time."
"I'm still a cop, Barnes!" Walker calls as he and Steve head for the back exit.
James turns around, smirking at him.
"Whatever you wanna tell yourself, Walker."
As the door shuts behind them, they hear Walker beginning to trash the evidence locker, flipping over the table and punching holes in whatever he can. James and Steve chuckle as they put on their sunglasses and walk to the car.
"That was fuckin' exhausting," Steve mutters.
"Yeah. We'll have to deal with him again, though. He's not going to put those patrols back so easily. I'm going to have to find another way to work with him. Softer methods, Father Paul told me."
"I think you're a hell of a long way from that, pal," Steve mutters.
They climb into the car and James starts it up, driving toward the hotel.
"Maybe we should just kill him," Steve wonders aloud. "Replace him with someone who would actually work with us."
"Kill Walker?"
"Yeah. Why not?"
James laughs.
"Who the fuck would we get to run in his place? That's a big political campaign to fund."
"What about Pierce?"
Alexander Pierce is a semi-retired narcotics officer who used to work for the San Bernadino Police Department. He mostly runs drugs for the Cartel, but he can play the political game like nobody's business. The problem is, James doesn't know how far he wants to take this game with Walker. He's not sure it's a game anymore. This could get dangerous. Fast.
He sighs and runs a hand through his hair.
"I dunno, Steve."
"It'd solve a lot of our problems. We lure him into Skid Row, shoot him in an alley and leave him there. The news would go fucking apeshit. Patrols would bump back up. Hell, they'd probably triple. Then, we bring in Pierce. Throw some fundraisers—"
"I'll think about it."
"Don't think about it, Buck! Just say—"
"I said I would think about it," James spits. "You don't think I've got enough shit on my plate right now?"
"Oh, what? Your little girlfriend?" Steve laughs.
"Don't do this."
"I'm not doing anything."
"You are," James replies.
"Just saying, you spend an awful lot more time with her than you do worrying about your fucking job now."
James is quiet, seething with anger. Steve doesn't know. The guy has never been in love in his fucking life. He doesn't know how intense this is, how much care and patience it requires. He doesn't know how difficult it is to have to lead this kind of double life; to have an answer for everything. Steve doesn't like Dahlia very much. It's clear by the way he looks at her, and the sneer on his face this morning when he talked to her on the phone. His tone was cutting, patronizing even. James wonders if Dahlia noticed, or if she was still too rattled by what Bodecker said to her. Steve thinks she's a waste of time. He just doesn't know her like James does.
She would be perfect to run his empire with him. Steve knows that, and the thought pisses him off.
James grips the steering wheel hard and Steve looks over at him.
"Buck—"
"Shut up."
Steve nods.
"I was just going to say—"
"I will shoot you in the fucking face," James snarls. "Shut your fucking mouth."
Steve nods and taps something into his phone. James looks over and sees him on Uber Eats, ordering expensive burgers for the shop.
"That's a good start," James mumbles as he pulls into the back parking lot of the hotel. The vans are there, along with Yelena.
"I was going to say I'm sorry," Steve says softly.
James stares at him for a long time, refusing to break eye contact. Steve shifts uncomfortably in his seat.
"Apology accepted. Let's go."
They step out of the car and Yelena crosses her arms over her chest. She's in a black and white pinstripe pantsuit with her hair pulled tightly into a ballerina bun. Her heels click against the pavement as she walks, removing her sunglasses. James and Steve take theirs off.
"You should have done this shit ages ago," she remarks in her thick Russian accent.
"I'm sorry, Yelena," James says softly. "Walker sold some of your shipment. I replaced it with black tar heroin. Cartel shit. It's the best of the best."
"And you won't be charing me for it," she informs him.
"Absolutely not. Consider it an apology for the inconvenience."
Yelena stares at him and her face breaks out into a grin.
"You might be a scumbag, Barnes, but you keep your word."
"It's the one bit of integrity I've got left," James replies.
She smirks and gets on her tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek.
"If Walker gives you any more problems, you call me. Hmm?"
James grins.
"Will do. Thank you for your patience, Yelena."
"No problem. I trust my next shipment won't have the same delays?"
"No, ma'am," James says softly. "No delays."
Maybe he should just kill Walker.
🌺 🌺 🌺
"So, what movie are we watching tonight?" Scott asks as they wait outside the shop. Kate shrugs her shoulders and scrolls through her phone. It's 5:55. James should be here any minute.
"Scarface," Wanda laughs.
"Fuck off!" Dahlia spits.
"What?" Scott asks. "What's wrong with Scarface?"
Dahlia rolls her eyes.
"Wanda thinks James is in the mafia."
Scott raises his eyebrows and shrugs.
"Is he?"
"No!" Dahlia shouts. Wanda whistles and looks up at the sky. Dahlia smacks her again. "Fuck you, Wands! He's not in the mafia! He owns fucking hotels."
"He made that money in no time at all," Kate mumbles. "It's a little shady."
"It is not," Dahlia replies. "You guys are looking for things to complain about."
"Did you ask him?" Scott asks.
Dahlia quirks an eyebrow.
"If he's in the mafia? Just straight up ask over dinner one night?"
"Yeah. Only way to know is to be honest about it."
She rolls her eyes.
"No, I didn't ask him."
A large black car pulls up to the sidewalk and the window rolls down. James sticks his head out, smirking.
"You guys want a ride?"
"Holy shit!" Scott laughs. "You got one of those self-driving cars!"
The four of them stare at him with looks ranging from disbelief to complete disgust.
"He has a driver, Scott," Dahlia whispers.
Scott's jaw drops.
"Oh..." He laughs. "Right. I just thought... because you're so rich that—"
"One more word and you're fired," Dahlia snaps.
"Yep. That seems fair," Scott replies.
Wanda and Kate are trying their hardest not to laugh while James stares at Dahlia with a big smile on his face. He opens the door for her as the others go around the other side. She climbs in beside him and he kisses her.
"Hi."
"Hey—" Dahlia spots the bruise on his chin. "What the fuck is that?"
"Hurt myself at the gym at lunch."
"What'd you do?" Wanda asks as the car starts up and everyone buckles themselves in. Dahlia can't see who's driving because there's a tinted glass partition between the driver and the rest of them. She assumes it's Peter.
James chuckles.
"Dumbbell accident."
Wanda nods, watching him with some suspicion. James just stares back at her with narrowed eyes and a small smile spreading across his face, as if to challenge her to say what she really thinks. Wanda just smiles back, big and wide and it eventually makes him laugh. He looks at Scott, who immediately sticks his hand out.
"Hi. Scott Lang."
"James Barnes."
"Yeah, I stayed at your hotel once — well, I guess it was your dad's at the time? It was a while ago. I think I was a kid. I used to go to these track meets..." he looks around and then looks down, realizing he's still shaking hands with James as he's talking. "Aaaand I'm talking a lot and shaking your hand too long, so this is weird now."
James chuckles as he pulls away.
"It's all right, Scott. It's a pleasure to meet you. If you ever want another room, let me know. It's on me."
"Thanks!"
Dahlia smiles and leans her head on James's shoulder. He kisses her temple while Wanda, Kate, and Scott chat about their day.
"How are you?" He asks. "After today?"
"Good," she whispers. "The burgers helped."
He chuckles.
"I'm glad. I brought beer, champagne, and whiskey."
"Oh?" Dahlia giggles. "Are you trying to get me liquored up?"
"Well, you're just so much fun when you're tipsy." He smirks. "Handsy, too."
She blushes and buries her face in his suit jacket. Dahlia smells his cologne and feels like she's home. They spend the rest of the car ride listening to Scott tell bad jokes and Wanda yelling at him to get new material while Kate laughs and high fives him. Dahlia never pictured that this would be her life, but so far, it's turning out to be pretty fucking incredible.
The car stops in front of their building and they pile out. James walks around to the driver's side window and grabs the keys, opening the trunk and hauling out a case of beer, champagne, and whiskey. He tucks the beer under his arm, while Wanda takes the champagne and Scott holds the whiskey. James hands the keys back to the driver, who rolls down the window and grins at Dahlia.
"Mr. Barnes! Remember you have a meeting with Mr. Stark tomorrow at 1:00."
"Shit," James whispers. "In person?"
"No, he's in Brazil right now. It'll be via phone. Natasha wanted me to tell you. She emailed you, but you didn't respond."
"Great. Thanks, Peter. See you tomorrow."
"Bye, Mr. Barnes! Bye, Dahlia!"
"Bye, Peter!" She calls as the car pulls away.
James wraps his arm around her waist and they head upstairs, following Wanda.
"I thought you had the day off?" Dahlia asks.
"I thought I did too. It'll just be an hour in the office. Why don't you come with me?"
"Come with you?"
He grins and pulls her away from the rest of the group who walk ahead of them down the hallway. James presses her against the wall, running his lips along her jawline until he reaches her earlobe and bites down, making her bite back a whimper.
"You remember that fantasy you told me about in the restaurant? I'm on a very important call while I fuck you over my desk and have to choke you to keep you quiet?" His voice is low and raspy, but smooth as it cascades down her spine. Her face burns and she nods as she looks up into his bright blue eyes. James smirks.
"You wanna make it a reality?"
"Yes," she rasps.
"Good girl."
"Hey!" Wanda shouts. "This is a sex free building!"
They all laugh, including James, who grabs her hand and starts to drag her back toward the group standing in front of their front door. Wanda unlocks it and opens the door. The five of them pile inside. Basil trots up to them and weaves between everyone's legs. James crouches down to give him some scratches.
"Hi, sweet thing," he whispers. "You're very cute."
Basil purrs and Dahlia melts watching this six-foot-tall man absolutely melt at the sight of a tiny black cat. Eventually, Basil retreats to Wanda's room and James stands, shedding his suit jacket. He's in a light blue dress shirt and he immediately rolls the sleeves up after he takes his shoes off. Dahlia watches his hands, his rings glittering in the light.
"Hey, James?" Wanda asks.
"Yeah?"
She holds up a small ziploc baggie filled with joints.
"I know Scott and Kate do, but do you... partake?" She raises a brow.
James chuckles.
"When in Rome, right?"
"YES!" Wanda shouts. "FINALLY! One of Dahlia's boyfriends is actually cool!"
"Hey!" Dahlia shouts. "That's... a fair assessment."
James laughs as Wanda leaps over the couch and takes out two joints. They bring the booze over while Dahlia grabs some glasses and sits down beside James.
"What are we going to watch?" Scott asks. "We never made a decision."
"I'm down for anything," James replies as Wanda sparks a joint and takes a deep inhale. She giggles.
"Anything?"
James quirks a brow and Dahlia sighs.
"Wanda wants to ask you if you want to watch Scarface because she thinks you're in the mafia."
"DAHLIA!"
Kate is doubled over laughing while Scott puts his head in his hands.
"What?!" Dahlia laughs. "It's what you were going to ask!"
"It's called subtlety, you dumb shit," Wanda snickers, passing her the joint. Dahlia takes a deep inhale, listening to the rolling paper crackle as she fills her lungs with smoke. She holds it in and passes it to James, who takes a long inhale, leaning his head back to let the smoke seep out as his eyes slide shut. She watches him with her jaw dropped, along with everyone else in the room. Is it possible for him to be unattractive in any fucking scenario?
James blows smoke rings and passes the joint to Scott.
"I'm not in the mafia, Wanda," he laughs. His eyes are a little droopy and he has a lopsided smile on his face. Dahlia can't stop staring at him. She wants him to take another inhale on that joint. Hell, she would watch him smoke a cigarette for hours. He's so hot.
"I believe you, James. I'm just teasing you."
He grins and rolls his head to the side to look at her while Dahlia reaches for a beer.
"I would watch Scarface, though," he purrs.
"NICE!" Wanda shouts as she grabs the Playstation remote and turns it on, along with the TV.
"Wanda, I think you just wanted an excuse to watch it," Kate giggles as she blows out a cloud of smoke. "It's all she talked about today at work."
Wanda starts the movie as they pass the joint around again.
"Wanda, who do you buy this from?" James asks.
She shrugs.
"Some dude who hangs around where the Whiskey used to be."
"Peter Quill?" Kate asks.
"How'd you know?" Wanda laughs.
"I bought mushrooms off of him once. Weird guy. Lotta conspiracy theories."
"Yeah, he thinks aliens invented everything," Wanda sighs. "Don't ever mention Bigfoot around him or he'll lose his fucking mind. He told me he saw one outside of his window."
Kate flashes her a look of disbelief.
"He lives in an apartment. On the fourteenth floor."
"That's what I tried to tell him!" Wanda exclaims. "He was like, 'No, man, they can climb and shit!'"
"Aren't they supposed to live in the forest?" Scott asks. "Isn't that the whole deal?"
Wanda sighs and runs a hand through her hair.
"You would think, but reasoning doesn't exactly work on Peter Quill."
"Seems like a fun guy," Scott says softly.
Dahlia, Kate and James chuckle while Wanda looks exasperated.
"Anyway, it's better than the stuff you buy at the dispensary," Wanda tells James. "And Peter's honestly not that bad."
"Hmm," James hums softly as he examines the joint in his hand. "I can get you something better. This stuff isn't as potent. And nobody will talk to you about aliens. Or... Bigfoot."
Dahlia chuckles and leans up against James, staring up into his big blue eyes.
"I didn't know you smoked weed."
"For anxiety," he mumbles, handing the joint to Scott. "But seriously, Wanda, if you're interested, I get my stuff from a supplier up in Canada. British Columbia. Good strains, too."
"I thought California had the best shit," Scott replies.
James shrugs.
"It all depends on who you get it from."
"Are you saying I'm paying way more for shit?" Wanda asks.
"It's not shit," James replies. "Like you said, it's better than a dispensary, but if you want something more potent, I can get it for you."
"That'd be nice. Thanks, and thanks for the mattress. That was... really nice of you," she says with a soft laugh.
"No problem. Figured I was replacing Dahlia's so I'd replace yours too."
Wanda smiles, her cheeks pink.
"How do you know this person?" Dahlia asks with suspicion. "This weed dealer?"
She had no idea that James was into this stuff. It doesn't concern her, it just makes her realize how much of him is still a mystery to her. The living room air is thick with smoke. Kate opens a window, letting a cool breeze through.
"Met him on a meditation retreat," James replies.
"You meditate?"
"Like I said," James says with a smile. "Anxiety."
Dahlia nods and James wraps an arm around her, kissing he cheek and the shell of her ear while everyone else turns their attention to the movie. Kate pops the champagne and pours everyone a glass.
"Are you surprised?" James says softly so that only Dahlia can hear him.
"That a businessman needs to take the edge off by smoking up?" She laughs. "Not really. I guess we still have a lot to learn about each other, huh?"
"Yeah," he whispers. "I guess we do."
James fits in well with her friends. He laughs at their jokes, and he and Scott bond over a mutual love of baseball. Dahlia can tell that Wanda still has her suspicions about James, but when she asks him if he can hook her up with his contact, he's generous and she seems to continue to warm up to him. They spend the night drinking, smoking another joint, and chatting while the movie plays in the background. By the end of the night, Wanda is curled up asleep on the couch and Scott and Kate look exhausted. James is still alert, but he's definitely high, and he keeps squeezing and rubbing Dahlia's thigh and leaning over to kiss her neck. It's hard not to jump him right then and there. He smells so good, and he's so warm, and his eyes are so pretty... and his mouth. Fuck.
"We should head out," Scott whispers.
"I'll order you an Uber," James says softly as he pulls up his phone.
"Oh, no, man it's cool, we—"
James waves his hand and shakes his head.
"As a thank you for the hospitality."
Scott shrugs.
"I'm broke, so that works for me."
"Same," Kate replies.
"Three minutes," James replies.
Scott and Kate nod, heading for the door to grab their bags and put their shoes on. They say their goodbyes quietly, both of them thanking James profusely for the Uber, and the booze. They didn't drink all of it, but they drank enough for Dahlia to know she's going to have a hangover tomorrow. Wanda snores softly on the couch and Dahlia turns the TV off and puts a hand on her shoulder while James retreats into Dahlia's room, winking at her as he shuts the door. She bites her lip.
"Wands," she whispers. "Wands, wake up."
"Huh? Wh— What happened to Al?"
"Al?"
"Pacino."
Dahlia giggles.
"It's 1:30 in the morning, babe. The movie ended a long time ago. We were just talking."
"When did I fall asleep?"
"Sometime before the mountain of cocaine."
"Aw, man!" Wanda sighs. "That's my favorite!"
"I know. We're headed to bed."
Wanda rubs her eyes.
"Yeah, I should too."
Dahlia helps her off of the couch and walks her to her room, where Wanda promptly faceplants on her bed and passes out. Dahlia sighs and rolls her onto her side, grabbing a bucket for her to puke in. She's also stoned out of her mind, but she has the wherewithal to take care of her best friend. Wanda only had two beers, but Dahlia doesn't want to take chances. She turns the light out and shuts the door before heading to her bedroom. James is lying on her bed in his boxer briefs, one arm behind his head and his legs crossed at the ankles. Dahlia closes the door and leans up against it. He flashes her a big smile.
"Hi," he purrs.
"Hi. You good?"
He nods.
"I'm very relaxed."
"No anxiety?"
James shakes his head.
"Do you need anything?" Dahlia whispers.
He grins and bites his lip, his eyes raking up and down her body. The way he looks at her always gives her butterflies, but right now, she feels like there's a forest fire on her skin the longer he keeps staring at her.
"No. Just you," he breathes.
She blushes in the low light and steps toward him, peeling her sundress off and tossing it onto the floor. James palms at his half-hard cock and takes a deep breath.
"Fuck, you're gorgeous."
She giggles and he grabs her, pulling her onto the bed and rolling her onto her back so that he's pinned her arms above her head.
"James!" She hisses. "Wanda—"
"Is passed out. We'll be quiet— actually, you should be quiet," he whispers.
His eyes are wild and he looks a little out of control. His hair falls in his face. It's gotten messier over the course of the night and his cheekbones are sharp in the low light. James kisses her slowly, sucking on her bottom lip and tugging on it with his teeth. He barely gives her time to really start to kiss him back before his mouth is trailing down her throat, along her collarbones, down her chest, and she gasps when he starts to pull her underwear off with his teeth. Dahlia lifts her hips, watching with heavily-lidded eyes. She's already wet, that familiar ache making her pussy clench. She has goosebumps. The combination of weed and champagne has made her extra sensitive, and somehow a little numb to everything else but him. Everything seems to fade into the background as she watches him pull her panties off and crawl overtop of her again, shoving them between her teeth. Dahlia moans softly and he kisses her cheek.
"Shh, peach. Gotta be quiet."
His mouth trails down her body again, leaving warmth in its wake as he nips at her with dull teeth. James spreads her legs and kisses up and down her thighs, his hands on her hips and thumbs massaging her hipbones to relax her. She whimpers as he slowly and softly runs his tongue along her clit, eventually making small circles that force her to dig her heels into his muscular back. He doesn't mind. In fact, it seems to turn him on.
At first, she's afraid he's going to tease her to the point of tears like he did last night, but instead, she feels his tongue flatten and apply more pressure. Dahlia squeezes his head between her thighs and his moan makes her whole fucking body vibrate.
"Fuck my face, peach," he moans. "Come for daddy."
Her eyes roll back as she grinds her hips against his mouth. James flicks her swollen clit with his tongue, constantly changing the speed and pressure until she's grinding so hard against him she's afraid she's going to smother him. He doesn't seem to care. She can feel a knot forming in her stomach, getting tighter and tighter. Her fingernails dig into the mattress, almost tearing the sheets up as she feels James slide two fingers into her dripping cunt. He fucks her slowly at first, stretching her out. Dahlia whimpers softly and closes her eyes. She's so close.
"That's a good girl," he purrs.
She can feel herself teetering on the edge as James's tongue begins to lash against her clit at the exact right speed and pressure that she likes. Her back arches like a bow toward the sky and she covers her eyes with both hands, desperately trying to hold on to any kind of control she has. It's useless. There's electricity running through her veins, almost replacing the hold that the pot and booze have on her. James pushes his fingers into her g-spot as he wraps his lips around her clit and sucks. The knot in Dahlia's stomach finally snaps from being pulled so tightly and she comes, her body trembling. She hears James grunt in surprise, but he keeps fucking her through her climax... and then she feels the sheets below her dampen. Her head shoots up, but she's still coming, her body fighting her natural curiosity. She rips her underwear out of her mouth.
"James," she moans softly.
He keeps fucking her until she falls back onto the pillows and comes again. It's much gentler than the first one. Dahlia squeezes his head between her thighs and moans into her hand. He slows down, fucking her until he comes to a stop and her muscles relax.
"Why is it wet underneath me?" She asks.
He lifts his head, staring at her with an extremely proud grin on his face.
"I made you squirt."
She's covered in sweat and panting.
"What the fuck?"
James licks his fingers and stands up, putting his dress shirt and pants back on.
"I'll get you a towel."
He kisses her thigh quickly and rushes out of the room, returning within seconds with a glass of water and a towel.
"How bad is it?" Dahlia asks.
"Not bad," he chuckles as he lifts her exhausted body to put the towel underneath her hips. James rests the water glass on her nightstand and strips again. She rolls over and reaches for him.
"What about you?" She says softly.
He chuckles, crawling back into bed and wrapping his strong arms around her. Dahlia relaxes into him.
"I can wait until tomorrow," he whispers. "Just wanted to take care of my girl."
She groans softly and presses her lips to his.
"I'm the luckiest."
"Nah, I think I am," James whispers.
"Thanks for the mattress, by the way."
"It's better, right?" James asks.
"Much. It's like sleeping on a cloud... but it's not so soft that my spine feels like it's going to disintegrate."
James chuckles.
"That's a good way of putting it."
They lay there for a while before Dahlia finally gets up to toss the towel in the laundry basket, spot clean her mattress, and change her sheets with James's help. She can't go to sleep with dirty sheets. James thinks she's being ridiculous, but helps her regardless.
They put on a brand new comforter and finally crawl back into bed at 3:00am. Dahlia falls asleep with her head on his chest and a smile on her face. The trauma of the day feels so far behind her now that she's in James's arms.
_____
A/N: Bodecker is not James's brother, just a Seb variant. Shout out to 10pointsforbucky and Jabersplatt for the idea. I ran with it, y'all 😂