s w i t c h c r a f t

She startled slightly, then he heard her snort out a laugh, turning her head to glance over her shoulder. “So did you finally kill Seth, or did you actually come to an agreement without me?”

“Not exactly.” Richie’s voice was very dry.

Kate sighed, shoulders slumping, curling her toes in the water.

He came up around her, and set her shoes on the table between them, lowering himself slowly into another chair, eyes on her the entire time.

She glanced over, eyes flicking to her sneakers. Something in her face softened a little. “Well, I hope you didn’t come out here just to drag me back into the middle of it.”

He huffed softly. “That’s not why I’m here.”

Kate propped her chin in one hand, leaning on the table and eyeing him. He gazed back at her steadily, idly undoing his cuffs and rolling up the sleeves.

Finally she sighed. “So what’s up?”

He nodded to her sneakers. “Put those on.”

Kate blinked, hand falling away from her face. “Okay…? Where are we going?” She narrowed her eyes at him.

“Somewhere you’ll need shoes,” he replied placidly, mouth twitching.

She scoffed, but finally obeyed, waving her feet in the air to get them dry first. The sight made him laugh softly, and she stuck her tongue out at him. He watched her slip on her sneakers with satisfaction. Good.

The motel was in a U-shape, with the pool smack in the middle. Richie led her around the far end, where the streetlamps stopped just short of the awning, cloaking them in darkness.

Then they rounded the corner to the back of the motel, and Kate drew up short, blinking.

There was nothing much back here. Just a field that stretched out into the darkness. Tall, gently waving grass glittered silver in the moonlight, dotted here and there with what Richie could tell were different kinds of wildflowers. Towards the back of the field was a treeline; he could make out a barbed wire fence strung between the them, and beyond, a few fat cows grazed.

He’d noticed the area in passing when driving up to the motel yesterday, and he was sure, based on past experience, that they’d find what he was looking for.

Kate scanned the area, curiosity writ across her features. “So, this is…different.” She cast him a questioning look.

In the light of the moon, Kate's hair shone darkly, the red turned nearly black. Her eyes, though, were still unmistakably green to him, bright even in the darkness.

Moonlight suited her.

Richie looked away from her so she wouldn’t catch him looking like some lovestruck idiot, and focused on the back of the field.

He could clearly make out a flicker in the gloom of the trees, a bright, brief flash of gold. To him they were impossible to miss, glowing little pulses drifting over the grass.

Kate turned to follow his gaze, brow furrowing. He heard it when she found what he was looking at - her breath caught with a little ‘oh.’

Then she was wading into the grass, towards the slow-blinking pinpricks of light that bobbed above the field. He followed behind her silently, their steps shaking loose the warm smell of sun-baked grass.

Finally she came to a stop just in front of the closest tree. Slowly, carefully, she held out a hand, and gently scooped one of the lightning bugs out of the air.

He stopped a couple paces away, making sure to scuff his shoe along the ground so that she would know he was still there. She’d complained a few times that he moved too quietly, and so - when he wasn’t in the mood to tease - he’d let her know he was there by virtue of some kind of noise.

“You know those aren’t actually flies?” He started, and saw Kate’s mouth twitch.

“No?” She asked, turning to him slowly, the firefly crawling across her knuckles as she held her hand out carefully between them. “What are they, then?”

“They’re beetles.”

“Okay, I actually didn’t know that,” Kate laughed softly, watching the tiny creature as it explored her hand, flashing a one-two as it went.

“Yeah. I don’t really know all the different kinds they have here, but in Kansas there were anywhere from ten, fifteen species all across the state. The ones near our house were called Big Dippers…they had this long J-shaped flash pattern. I'd sit outside with a notebook trying to keep track of them."

Kate began to slowly smile, even as the firefly on her hand took flight again. “You kept a notebook?”

“Well, yeah. I mean, field research is serious business. I had to keep track of their movements, which part of the yard they liked, stuff like that.”

He explained about the different flash patterns, the markings, the lifespans. How they spent more time growing underground than they did as winged adults. How one firefly made a figure-eight as it flew.

Kate looked delighted.

“Why?”

It took Richie a second to register the question. He’d been saying something about the one-two blinking pattern. “Why what?”

“Why do they flash differently?”

“Oh. Well, sometimes it’s to signal a mate. You know, like how male peacocks have their tails, some spiders dance - “

Kate sputtered a laugh. “Excuse me? Dancing spiders?”

“Yeah, like tarantulas. They tap out these little rhythms and dance to impress the females.”

“Tap-dancing spiders,” Kate whispered to herself, giggling.

Richie grinned down at her. “So. That’s why some fireflies blink a certain way. They’re signaling that they’re down to fuck. And - “

Kate’s laughter rang across the field, startling some thrush that had been hiding a little ways down. They burst from the grass in a flurry of indignant chirps before disappearing into the night.

She covered her mouth, her eyes sparkling above her hand. “That wasn’t supposed to be so loud,” she whispered between her fingers, sounding sheepish.

Chuckling, he gently pulled her hand away from her face, threading their fingers together. Kate's laugh was one of his favorite sounds in the world, and he'd be damned if she was going to start apologizing for it now.

He squeezed her hand, thumb running across her knuckles. “It’s true, though. They’re basically speed-dating.”

She snorted out another laugh, and something warmed in his chest.

He hadn’t had much of a plan, save for distract Kate from Seth’s idiocy. But now here she was, laughing freely, shoulders unburdened, eyes shining in the moonlight. He considered it a mission well accomplished.

Then she squinted up at him. “So,” she started with some amusement, “where was Seth during your field research?”

“Oh, he helped. I made him help.”

As he spoke he recalled, with sudden visceral intensity, a much younger version of himself, in his childhood home, out in the yard at dusk - a flashlight and a ratty old notebook in hand as he waited for the first fireflies of the evening to appear. Seth at his elbow, griping about the mosquitoes and the heat, all the while clutching a mason jar.

Then Kate let go of his hand, to reach out and let another firefly land on her. She cupped her hands, peering at it in the little cavern she’d made of her fingers. “Let me guess, you tried sneaking them in the house.” She smiled down at the little beetle. “Scott and I did that all the time. Mama would let us keep the jar for the day, then make us go back outside the next night and let them go. She said it was cruel to keep them cooped up like that.”

She opened her hands, releasing the lightning bug, and it flitted away with a flicker of light trailing in its wake. Then she glanced up at Richie and saw his expression. She cocked her head, smile fading a little. “What is it?”

That was the thing about Kate. Most people - they just smiled politely and leaned back a little whenever he started rambling. But Kate. Kate leaned in. She didn’t just listen, she absorbed. She asked questions.

Kate just fucking cared.

Richie smiled, small and private, and shook his head.

He wasn't about to tell her about the jar of fireflies Seth had dropped in the house. About how badly his brother had been punished. About how that had been the last summer they'd ever gone chasing them.

Some memories were better left where they belonged.

Not here, not tonight.

Kate seemed to sense the shift in his mood, subtle though it was, and took his hands in hers. She used them to balance herself as she lifted onto her tiptoes to brush her mouth against his.

Instinctively, his head dipped to meet her. He lifted their joined hands, and she smiled against his mouth as her arms slid around his neck.

His hands trailed back down her arms, slipping behind her. He scooped her up around the waist, pulling her up against him, and she sighed into the kiss, fingers carding through his hair.

Then Kate pulled back, just far enough so that her lips brushed his as she spoke. "You know," she murmured, smiling against his mouth, "you definitely have a way with words."

Richie huffed a quiet laugh. "Pretty sure I just told you fireflies are horny."

Kate laughed too, pressing her forehead briefly to his.

"Exactly.” She kissed him again, soft and sweet. “Nerd.”

Then she slid a hand down to his, tangling their fingers together, and she tugged at him. He kept pace with her, letting himself be steered happily.

As they walked, he tucked a hand into the back pocket of her little jean shorts. In return, she slid an arm around his waist as they left the field at a leisurely stroll.

She led them back to the pool; Richie had a pretty good idea as to why. When they arrived at the water’s edge, Kate sighed and turned to slip her other arm around him, a small divot appearing between her brows as she looked up at him.

“If you go back inside, am I gonna have to play referee again?”

He pushed back an errant lock of hair that had fallen across her face. “You know that’s not your job, Kate. Also no, because I’m pretty sure Seth’s passed out by now.” He glanced towards their door. “He was working on shot number five when I left.”

Kate groaned, her face falling. “Dammit, Seth,” she muttered.

Then he cocked his head at her, eyes roaming over her features curiously. “Why? You don’t want company?”

“It’s not that,” she said slowly, frustration melting as a little smile appeared. “I just wanted you to go grab your swim trunks.”

He blinked - then a grin slowly spread across his face. He leaned in, giving her a soft, swift kiss. “Yes, ma’am.”

He'd been right. Seth was sprawled sideways across the bed nearest the door like roadkill, clad in nothing but his boxers. The whiskey bottle sat half-empty on the nightstand beside him.

Richie sighed. Fucking idiot.

It didn't happen that often anymore. Seth had gotten better over the last couple of years - better at stopping after one drink instead of six, better at recognizing when old ghosts were getting too loud. But once Seth dug his heels in, you'd have an easier time convincing the moon to change orbit. And every so often something hooked under his skin, and he'd chase it to the bottom of a bottle.

Tonight had apparently been one of those nights.

Kate usually wound up caught somewhere in the blast radius. Not because either of them ever aimed it at her - they didn't - but because living with two stubborn Gecko brothers meant getting dragged into arguments she'd never asked to referee in the first place.

The guilt would hit Seth sometime around breakfast the next day. He'd apologize awkwardly - something else that was new - while pretending he wasn't apologizing at all. Kate would accept it because she loved the moron and had enough grace for all three of them. Richie would call him an asshole once or twice for good measure, and life would move on.

And it was a good life, Richie knew.

He couldn't have told you exactly when it happened. One day it had been just him and Seth against the world. Then somewhere along the way there had been a third toothbrush in the bathroom, long red hair on their pillowcases, groceries that weren't just whiskey and takeout...

...and somehow it had become home.

Kate had quietly taken all the jagged little pieces of their lives and fit herself between them. Somehow, impossibly, everything held together.

He stared down at Seth a moment longer, then shook his head in exasperation and headed for his luggage.

Now changed, he headed back outside. The warm air caressed his bare skin, the sudden shift in temperature spreading goosebumps across his arms.

Kate was sitting in the same chair he’d found her in, clothes in a neat pile on the table beside her, having left her bikini on after swimming earlier that day.

As she stood to face him, the glow from the ‘Vacancy’ sign caught the shimmering white material, turning it ruby red. For a heartbeat she looked like living fire.

Two years ago the sight would've made his stomach knot.

Now all he saw was Kate.

The color suited her. Though at first Kate had tried dyeing it over and over, after two years her hair was still the exact same shade Amaru’s had been. It just grew that way now.

Kate still had the occasional nightmare, though they’d regressed from actual night terrors down to something more manageable. The hair, Richie knew, hadn’t made moving on any easier - but Kate had very slowly learned to embrace it.

He reached out to smooth a hand across her head, carding his fingers through the scarlet locks. She tilted her head, following his hand, eyes fluttering closed for the smallest moment.

Then they blinked open, and she breathed deep, her hands drifting to his chest. She leaned into him, a kiss landing on the corner of his mouth. He felt her smile against him as her fingers trailed down, tracing his abdominal muscles before dipping into the waistband of his swim shorts. She ran her fingers back and forth along the edge, teeth coming out to nibble at his lower lip.

Richie’s hands cinched around her waist, hauling her up against him so that he could kiss her properly. She just had time to breathe out a laugh before his mouth claimed hers, opening it wide, tongue tangling with her own.

With a moan she melted against him, soft curves contouring to his own hard planes. Her fingers slipped further into the back of his shorts, sharp little nails digging into him.

He had to break the kiss before it became too heated; he was moments away from laying her out on the table behind them and unknotting the strings of her bikini.

She came away from him with a breathless little sound that he swore was disappointment. “Thought you wanted to swim,” he murmured, kneading her hips comfortingly.

“I did. I do.” She gave him one last reluctant squeeze before stepping back. “You're a terrible distraction, you know that?”

With that, she crouched down at the edge of the pool, balancing herself on one hand, and slid into the water.

She flashed him an inviting look as she turned to propel herself onto her back. Then her eyes slipped closed, and she floated there - face turned to the night sky, hair radiating around her like a pool of blood.

The sight reminded Richie vividly of the day they met; how her pain had rippled through the water in a cloud of red, as if she was bleeding out. It had looked to Richie as though she’d been dying. Which, he’d found out later, hadn’t been far from the truth.

This time, however, he knew better.

She did this often, the floating. It seemed to soothe her, letting her mind wander safely while being cradled by the water. As if, for a little while, she didn't have to carry quite so much herself.

For a few minutes Richie indulged himself, sitting on the pool’s edge with his feet in the water, just watching Kate enjoy herself. He took in the whole of her - the tantalizing curves and hollows of her body, the way the neon signs rippled in the water around her, reflecting off her skin. Though the night would normally have masked them, to his eyes her freckles stood out in sharp relief, little constellations against her tanned skin. There wasn’t an inch of it he hadn’t memorized.

Finally he slipped the rest of the way into the water; the cool bite of it was a pleasant distraction from the heat. She didn’t stir, except to sigh softly as she felt the ripples from his movements.

When he curled a hand around one of her ankles, squeezing lightly, she smiled, but her eyes remained closed.

“Tell me about the tap-dancing spiders,” she murmured up into in the night air.

He scoffed in part amusement, part disbelief. “I bring you to a field full of fireflies, we go for a moonlit swim, and somehow the spiders are what stick with you?"

“Well,” she said, her smile growing, “they are pretty memorable.”

Smirking, he slowly dragged her towards him through the water, until her foot brushed his chest. Carefully, so as not to unbalance her, he lifted her foot and brushed kisses along every toe.

She kept her eyes determinedly shut, biting her lip against a giggle, and wriggled her digits at him. He nipped at them, and the resulting laughter nearly had her plunging beneath the surface of the water. But she spread her arms back out, straightening her spine, and gently pushed off of him, propelling herself towards the deep end.

He followed, slowly but steadily, slipping down into the water until it rose to his chin. For a few leisurely moments all he did was watch her float in and out of the neon lights, painting her in luminescent red and yellow and blue.

There were worse ways to spend the night than watching the woman he loved find some peace.

Eventually he tipped his head back, going under for a brief moment. The water filled his ears with a sort of calm oblivion, and if he concentrated enough on shutting off his abilities, all he could hear was a dull roar. The crickets, the hum of the neon, the distant highway - all gone.

Idly he wondered what would happen if he filled his lungs with water. Would he actually drown momentarily, before waking back up? Or would his body simply reject the water outright, saving him from a temporary death?

Suddenly there was a disturbance in the water. Then he felt a hand on his shoulder, tugging at him.

He broke through the surface with a sharp inhale, and as he blinked the chlorine from his eyes, saw that Kate was in front of him, apprehension clouding her features.

“You okay?” She murmured, hand lingering on his shoulder. “You were under for a really long time.”

“Yeah,” he said with some surprise. Why wouldn’t he be? “It’s just quiet under there, is all.” He hadn't realized how loud the night had been until it disappeared.

She huffed out a quiet laugh, features relaxing. “Yeah, it is.” She reached up to smooth his dripping hair away from his forehead, her expression full of fondness.

As she did this, she drifted closer, until she brushed up against him. Her gaze roamed over his features, lingering on his mouth for a moment before flicking back up to meet his eyes.

A grin threatened to overtake him, and he dipped his head to seal his mouth to hers before she could catch it. She hummed, pressing closer to him as her arms slipped around his middle.

The water lapped at them, cool on his skin as he kissed her, hands burying themselves in her dripping hair. Her own hands roamed his back, clutching him to her.

Finally Kate broke the kiss with a little gasp, but didn’t let go of him. “Spiders,” she panted, breath somewhat uneven. In the wavering neon light her pupils were blown wide, her mouth red and bruised.

Richie leaned back, staring. Then he burst out laughing. “Spiders, huh?”

His hands slipped down her, coming to rest on her hips. Squeezing her teasingly, he leaned down to kiss her nose. She breathed out a laugh, tipping her head so that her nose grazed his. “Yes, please.”

Then - with obvious reluctance - Kate slipped away from him, tipping herself backward in the water until it cradled her once more. She blew out a slow, somewhat shaky breath, as if forcing herself to relax, and closed her eyes.

“So. Tap-dancing spiders,” he started easily, a faint smirk playing around his mouth - he always loved getting those reactions out of her. “Those would be tarantulas…”

The moon had reached its zenith a while ago, and was making its way towards the hazy, city-lit horizon. They must have talked for at least a couple of hours.

He had a particular fondness for jumping spiders. The males would enthusiastically court just about every female they encountered, regardless of whether she was even the right species. Sometimes they got lucky. Sometimes they got eaten. Richie had to admire that kind of commitment.

When he told Kate this, she laughed so hard she nearly collapsed into the water again. There were no birds nearby to startle this time, but her laughter echoed against the motel walls, and that familiar warmth bloomed in his chest. Pride, he realized. He'd done that. He'd done that for her.

Maybe this would make her forget that stupid argument. She seemed content enough for now, at least, and he hoped it would last.

She was still floating, occasionally righting herself just to dive all the way into the cool water. Sometimes she would interrupt with a question or some dry observation, making him snort with laughter.

Eventually she paddled back over to him, water streaming from her hair. She rested both hands against his chest, studying him with that thoughtful little expression she got sometimes. The neon light caught her eyes, making her glow.

"What?" he asked.

Kate smiled. "Nothing."

She took him by the shoulders and let the water buoy her upward until she was pressed against him. Instinctively he caught her up around her thighs, supporting her as she wrapped her legs around him.

Then she kissed him, soft and warm. The kind of kiss that was a whole conversation in one gesture.

When she finally drew back, she bumped her forehead lightly against his.

"You know," she murmured, "I don't think anyone has ever made spiders sound romantic before." Her thumbs softly traced his collarbone.

Richie considered that.

"Give me twenty minutes," he said. "I can do snakes next."

Kate made a noise that was part laugh and part groan. "Let’s save that for another night."

“What, snakes aren’t as sexy?” He waggled his brows at her.

She choked on a laugh, hands coming up to cradle his face. “This snake is sexy,” she said, giggling even as she kissed him again. He could feel her shoulders shaking, and pinched her side in retaliation.

When she only squirmed and laughed harder, he shook his head and turned them, wading towards the edge of the pool. Grinning, he sat her down carefully on the side of it, corralling her hips with his arms as he laid them down on either side of her.

Still struggling to contain her giggles, she slung her arms over his shoulders and leaned into him, brushing her nose against his. Grinning, she bit her lip as though she were trying very hard to be serious, but it only lasted a heartbeat before another smile escaped. His mouth caught the corner of hers in a fleeting kiss, and she hummed happily.

Finally her giggles faded. Her eyes still glittered with mirth, but something quieter settled over her expression as she absently ruffled the back of his hair. She looked…

"What?" he asked again, a little more uncertain this time.

Kate shook her head.

"I'm just..." Her smile returned, smaller now. Just for him. "You're kind of incredible, you know that?"

For a moment all he could do was stare at her.

Then he huffed out a laugh, but it died quickly. She was still watching him, smiling softly. Lifting a hand, she carded her fingers through his hair, tousling it more.

After a few painful seconds he found his voice. “You should know you have exceptionally abysmal taste.”

Affection warmed her features, and she leaned her forehead against his, hands moving to cradle his face. “Don’t go selling yourself short,” she whispered, a thumb sweeping over his cheekbone.

Something wound tight in him loosened, then - something he hadn’t even realized was there. Taking a deep breath, he swallowed and drew back slightly, just enough to be able to look her in the eye.

"...Hard not to."

Kate's expression was full of understanding as she gently brushed his hair away from his forehead. "Well." She traced her thumb across his cheek again. "Lucky for you, I'm stubborn."

Then she kissed him.

She tasted like a future he'd never thought he'd get to have.

Once, he thought this kind of life belonged to Seth. Not him. Seth was the one who got the girl, the home, the happy ending. Richie had always imagined his own future differently - louder. Flashier. Dangerous enough that no one could ever mistake him for ordinary.

Funny thing was, he'd gotten all of it eventually - the money, the empire, the notoriety.

None of it compared to this.

He wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that. A minute. An hour. Some impossible amount of time that existed only here, in the water, in her arms.

Eventually he pulled back just enough to murmur against her lips, “Love you.”

He felt it when she smiled, wide and unrestrained. “Show me.”

been poking around, but I can't find who these dividers belong to! Help a girl out?

There was a pause, and when she cracked open an eye, saw that Seth had dropped his hand and rolled his head to study her. “What about your dad?” He asked quietly.

She sighed again, closing her eye and pushing her head back further. “He’ll be out til closing time. Same as the rest of this week. Probably be doing it all the way to Christmas.”

It was only three days away. The first Christmas they’d be spending without Mama, and she’d be spending it alone, Kate already knew. Scott always off to God knew where, Daddy at the bar or passed out on the couch…this was her life now.

She’d tried to talk to Scott about Christmas, just the other day. He’d brushed her off, the way he always did lately. And Daddy…he just nodded and smiled, smelling like whiskey and regret and something tired, patted her hand, and said in a broken voice that Mama had loved Christmas lights, hadn’t she? And he’d stared at the little tree Kate had determinedly decorated all by herself, tears in his eyes, before wandering to his room to sleep it off.

Uncle Hershel, Aunt Annette and her cousins had already visited for Thanksgiving, and they couldn’t make a second trip so soon. So. Kate was left adrift, on her own for the holidays for the first time in her life.

Well. Maybe not.

Fumbling a little - drunk, high and clumsy with it - she reached for the hands on either side of her, and those hands closed around hers, big and warm and callused. The roughness rasped gently against her palms, familiar as a prayer.

Familiar hands. Safe hands.

“Sure you can,” Richie finally answered, and she breathed easier.

He’d never asked for his hoodie back, so she was still wearing it. She’d had to fold back the sleeves at one point. But it was warm, and still smelled like him.

Seth ran a thumb across her knuckles, to and fro, in a comforting way, and she clung to him a little tighter. He tugged, pulling her arm up, anchoring it against his chest. “You know you can stay whenever you want,” he murmured, and she couldn’t stop herself; she melted up against him, pressing her face into his shoulder, breathing in the scent of cold leather and spilled tequila.

On her other side, Richie laughed. “Jesus, you’re really faded, aren’t you.”

“Shut up,” she sighed into Seth’s shoulder.

They made it back just before two. Eddie had already gone to bed; the house was dark and quiet as they piled through the doorway, Kate trying desperately to contain her exhausted giggles. She nearly fell over twice trying to kick off her shoes by the door.

Seth had to keep a hand over her mouth and the other on her shoulder to steer her towards his bedroom. She kept stumbling, but he kept a firm hold of her so she didn’t fall. “Think you went a little overboard this time,” Seth said dryly as he shut the door behind him.

Kate snickered, weaving even as she sat on the edge of the bed. “Like you didn’t, Mr. Bottle of Tequila.”

She tried to lean down to pull off her socks, but the act proved to be her undoing; she tipped forward, and would have fallen right on her face had Seth not caught her. “Jesus fuck, Katie. I can’t tell if you smoked or drank more.”

He eased her back onto the bed, and she fell the rest of the way onto her back with a breathless oof. She felt him tugging at her socks, and she wiggled her toes at him. He pinched them, and she squealed, writhing away, rolling the rest of the way onto the bed.

Richie chose that moment to appear, having changed into some pajama pants and a tank top in his room. He moved to sit beside Kate, and she tugged at him until he flopped down with her.

Then she made him scoot until they could lay at the foot of the bed, in front of the TV - their usual spots, with Richie on the far side and Kate smack in the middle. He went without complaint, laughing under his breath.

Seth took note of this, and put his hands on his hips. “Oh, yeah? You gonna stay awake through the whole thing this time?”

“Mm-hmm,” Kate nodded innocently, chin on her folded hands.

Seth rolled his eyes, but went to his dresser, and pulled out some clothing. “Well, here. You can’t sleep in that.”

And the clothes were tossed unceremoniously onto her back. Kate groaned. “I was just getting comfortable,” she griped, but rolled off the bed anyway, stumbling only a little this time. Seth eyed her warily, but she waved him off.

Thankfully, the world had stopped spinning while she was lying down, and she made it to the bathroom without too much trouble. Seth’s clothes hung loosely on her, boxers low on her hips, shirt slipping off one shoulder. But she was much more comfortable now.

She folded up her party outfit carefully, and left it sitting on Seth’s dresser by the TV. Then she reclaimed her spot on the bed, pressed from shoulder to hip with Richie.

For a brief moment he turned, pushing his face into the crook of her neck. Blinking, Kate’s hand instinctively found the back of his neck, fingers brushing through his hair. “You okay?” She murmured. “You smoked a lot, too.”

He shook his head and hummed; she could feel it vibrate against her. “Just enough,” he said quietly. Kate snorted at that. Both of the guys had iron constitutions, something she’d envied more than once. She’d lost a lot of bets before finally catching on; these days she refused to wager anything remotely valuable against them.

“You, on the other hand,” Richie continued, pulling his head back and fixing her with an affectionately exasperated look, “seemed determined to put Burt out of business. We made it through three joints between all of us.”

“Point taken,” she sighed. Then she perked up slightly. “I don’t suppose you’ve got any more?”

“Absolutely not,” came Seth’s voice from her other side. He’d donned his own tank top and pajama bottoms, and stood at the edge of the bed, scowling down at her. “No more debauchery for you tonight.”

“…maybe just a little debauchery? As a treat?” She pulled her best pout at him.

He seemed to freeze for a split second, like something had shorted out. Then he rolled his shoulders back, and a smirk crawled across his face. He came around the bed slowly, and leaned down until their faces were level with each other. Her eyes widened, and so did his grin. “That really depends,” he murmured, “on your definition of the word.”

Her heart lurched into her mouth. The world suddenly grew sharper around the edges, the cold, creeping ache of returning sobriety washing over her.

For one impossible second, she wondered if he meant -

No.

She knew better than that. She had to know better than that.

Somewhere along the way, she'd started wanting things she had no business wanting. She'd known that for a while now. But there was Kyle, back in Bethel. There was Vanessa. There was the simple, undeniable fact that society did not work the way her traitorous imagination sometimes wanted it to.

They were friends.

They shared clothes and food and space. They held hands when she was scared and let her sleep over when she didn't want to go home. Richie touched her the way he did because he was affectionate, and Seth flirted because he flirted with everybody.

They were friends.

She repeated it to herself sometimes, the way Daddy used to recite scripture under his breath when he was trying to be brave.

Just friends.

It was easier that way.

So she rolled her eyes with as much dignity as someone in oversized clothes could manage. "My definition," she informed him loftily, "is significantly less interesting than yours."

His grin widened again, dimples flashing.

"Coward."

“Jackass.”

Then she rolled over onto her side, tugging at his wrist. “Movie now.”

"Bossy when you're stoned," he observed, but he still went over to his collection of VHS tapes and started flicking through them.

"I'm not stoned. Anymore."

Richie snorted. "Kate, you asked me for another joint thirty seconds ago."

"That proves nothing."

Seth looked up. “So what’re you in the mood for, then?”

Kate rolled the rest of the way, until she was on her back, looking at him upside-down. She tried reading the movie cases the best she could. “That one,” she pointed.

Seth looked down. “Seriously?” He asked with a snicker. But he pulled it out of the crate, and went to stick it in the player.

“I want something funny,” she said quietly, shrugging.

Seth finally flopped down beside her. “Then funny you shall have,” he grinned down at her, and grabbed at her side, fingers digging in.

Kate squealed and batted at him, trying to wiggle away, but she just rolled into Richie. Immediately she felt his arm lock around her, and the other hand clapped over her mouth. Seth’s fingers found her ribs again, and she thrashed helplessly, shaking with muffled laughter.

Finally she had to throw her hands up in the air, and Seth withdrew just enough so that she could breathe a little. She tugged at Richie’s hand, still over her mouth, and he loosened his grip finger by finger, though he kept his other arm wrapped around her middle.

“You're both awful,” Kate informed them, still wheezing a little.

“Yet you keep coming back,” Seth said smugly.

“Starting to think you’re a glutton for punishment,” Richie chimed in, squeezing her.

Kate huffed - no kidding. For a moment something in her chest constricted painfully. “Probably,” was all she said.

She languished in Richie's hold for another minute, lacing their fingers together over her stomach. Then she slowly rolled away, closer to Seth, who briefly squeezed her hip, before scooping up the remote and hitting play.

She stayed conscious until Sue made it to the pub and met Mick. Sometime after that, the voices around her began to blur together.

The last thing she heard was Seth saying something about kangaroos and Richie laughing under his breath.

Somewhere in the dark, a hand found hers.

Kate smiled to herself without opening her eyes.

Then sleep took her.

She turned to Richie, who was on her other side, perched on the arm of the couch and smoking one of Burt’s joints. As if he could pick up on her thoughts, he turned more fully towards her, angling his head down to her, pushing his hair out of his face. “What’s up?” He drawled lazily.

Smoke curled from his lips as he spoke, hanging in a haze around them. Even the secondhand stuff was enough to get her feeling a little dizzy, and she waved a hand though it impatiently. “I’m thirsty,” she told him, poking him in the thigh.

He took the time to take took another hit, then leaned away slightly to blow the smoke out the corner of his mouth, away from her. “For what?”

“Vodka and that stuff, the cherry syrup. Please,” she made sure to add.

Richie laughed low in his throat at that, ducking his head a little as he looked at her. “Cherry syrup.”

Kate tried very hard not to pout at him. “Don’t start.”

“I’m not starting anything.” He tilted his head. “I just like that that’s what you call it.”

“Well, I don’t exactly spend my weekends doing shots in Burt’s basement.”

“Good,” he said easily, sliding slowly off the arm of the couch and onto his feet. “Somebody should maintain standards around here.”

He disappeared into the crowd and the smoke, holding his joint above everyone’s heads as he went.

With a little sigh, Kate tucked herself further into the couch, curling up with her booted feet beneath her as she snuggled into the corner. Kalinda looked over from where she’d been flirting absentmindedly with one of the football players.

“You good? You look a little…”

“Freezing?” Kinda,” Kate said with an embarrassed laugh. “‘It’s what I get for sacrificing function for fashion.”

Kalinda made a sympathetic face. “I hear that,” she nodded ruefully. “I’m just lucky this sweater matched this outfit.” She gestured down at herself.

The football player - something Taggart, that’s the only part of his name she remembered - drifted off, apparently bored now that talk had turned to clothes. Kalinda didn’t seem to notice.

The two were deep into discussion by the time Richie made it back, joint between his lips and two drinks dangling from his fingertips. Kate let out a relieved sigh. “Oh, my God, thank you,” she groaned, grabbing up the drink, noticeably hers due to its color. She proceeded to bury her face in it, and inhale a mouthful.

Heat licked her throat and belly as the vodka slid down her. Kate suppressed a grateful shudder.

Richie watched as she gulped down the drink, brows raised. “Didn’t think you were that keen on getting shitfaced tonight,” he said dryly.

Ugh. Time to come clean. “I’m not trying to get drunk, I’m trying to get warm,” she retorted sullenly, lifting her face briefly from the Solo cup without meeting his eyes.

Both of the guys had protested her choice of dress when she’d hopped into the passenger seat that evening, but Kate had shrugged them off. The crowd will keep me warm, she’d responded, laughing.

“Told you to bring a jacket,” Richie reminded her now.

Kate groaned into her drink. “Don’t.”

“I distinctly remember warning you.” He leaned back, watching her with a sort of lazy amusement. “And I also distinctly remember you ignoring us.”

“Well, now I’m cold and you’re being insufferable. So really, who’s the winner here?” She huffed another breath into the cup, crinkling the plastic beneath her cold fingers. Warmth lit up her belly from the vodka, but it hadn’t reached the rest of her yet. Her shoulders drew up instinctively against the chill, and she pushed herself further into the corner of the couch, tucking her head into Richie’s side.

Automatically his arm went around her shoulders for a moment, before he slowly pulled himself upright, leaning forward with an elbow braced on one knee. His drink went on the coffee table in front of them. Then he offered Kate the joint, and, blinking, she took it.

After a moment’s pause where she considered it thoughtfully, she took a careful hit off it.

Richie stilled beside her. The music still thudded around them, voices carrying through the haze of smoke - but his attention settled fully on her as she inhaled. Watching.

As she exhaled slowly, he finally moved again, hooking a hand behind his neck and peeling off his hoodie.

“Here,” he murmured, gently depositing it in her lap.

Her head, her skin, everything was faintly buzzing as she sank her fingers into the soft, worn material. Dimly she registered Kalinda on her other side, watching them like a hawk. One fueled by gossip and rumors.

But Kate was feeling too good now to really care about any of that, about what it meant when a guy gave you his jacket. That toke had really been just what she’d needed to finally relax a little. Besides, it wasn’t as if they’d never given her their clothes before. Just not in such a public setting.

So, giggling to herself, Kate handed the roach and her drink over to him, and picked up the hoodie and slipped it over her head, further tousling her already messy bun. The sleeves hung past her fingertips, and she knew it would fall low on her thighs once she stood up - there was nearly a full foot between her and Richie, after all, and a lot more muscle.

As the garment fell over her, his scent wrapped around her too - weed, and the faint underscore of cigarettes and Hugo Boss. And something warm beneath it all that belonged only to Richie.

Something hot and heady curled low in her stomach, something that had nothing to do with the vodka or the smoke.

“Better?”

Richie had pulled up and crossed one leg up on on the arm of the couch, and he leaned on it, watching her steadily - the joint dangling from his fingertips, momentarily forgotten, the smoke curling slowly into the air around him.

She beamed up at him, and he gave her a lopsided grin.

“Now you don't look like you're about to die.”

She laughed softly into the collar of the hoodie, tugging it up to cover the lower half of her face. “Your concern is touching.”

“Wasn't concern.”

Kate cocked her head at him, mouth tilting a little. “No?”

“Nope.”

“Then what was it?”

Richie shrugged, taking another drag off the joint. “Self-preservation. If you froze to death on Burt’s couch, it'd be a whole thing. I’d be obligated to help hide the body,” he gestured vaguely with the roach, “etcetera etcetera.”

Kate snorted.

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Kalinda watching them again.

Richie seemed to notice it too.

Instead of moving, though, he settled himself more firmly on the arm of the couch, one boot hooked against the cushion and the other planted on the floor, leaning back onto the slanted back of the sofa. It looked deeply uncomfortable.

Kalinda's eyebrows climbed higher.

Kate waited, with increasing incredulity, as the silence stretched on.

Until she finally burst out, “that cannot possibly be comfortable.”

“It's fine.”

“It looks painful.”

“It's really not.”

“It is.”

Richie opened his mouth, clearly prepared to defend this increasingly ridiculous position with his life.

Before he could, Kate grabbed him by the wrist and scooted toward the middle of the couch. “Get down here, you idiot.”

Caught off guard, he fumbled, slipped, and landed heavily beside her. The couch bounced. Their shoulders collided, and she collapsed against him in a giggling heap.

Automatically his arm went around her shoulders, steadying her.

Kalinda made a strangled sound. Kate ignored her in favor of settling further against him, still giggling a little, and he let her. He tucked himself into the corner of the couch, and she tucked herself against his side, feet folded up beneath her. Then, finally situated comfortably, she turned back to Kalinda. Kalinda who looked like she was biting her cheek, hard, face twitching.

“Now, what were you saying about Margaret and that one guy?”

Kalinda, who was still staring, startled in place. “Uh. Right. That.”

It took her a minute, but she finally got back on track, and soon she and Kate were exchanging info like a pair of inside traders. The whole while Richie sat docilely behind her, his thumb occasionally brushing against her shoulder. She could feel it even through her layers. Not quite realizing what she was doing, she shifted just slightly, so that his arm pressed more firmly against her.

He huffed out a quiet breath at that, and then his other arm reached around, holding the joint out in front of her. Humming in thanks, she absently took another hit, feeling the THC hit her system, spreading from her pleasantly fuzzy head out to her limbs. God, why had she never done this before coming to Houston? She’d really been missing out. On a lot of things.

But the high coaxed her brain back towards more pleasant thoughts, and she offered the joint to Kalinda. The girl shrugged, holding up her nearly-empty Solo cup. “I’m good,” she said, smirking. Then she snagged a passer-by, someone from the marching band, if Kate wasn’t mistaken. “Kyle, would you be a sweetie and get me a refill?” Kalinda smiled her most beatific smile, flashing her dimples, and held up her cup. “Vodka cranberry, please.”

The name did something to Kate, something faint but unpleasant. She shifted against Richie, suddenly hyper-aware of everywhere they touched - the warmth of his side, the weight of his arm - and the fact that she was wearing his clothes.

Oh, who cared. Kate felt good, felt loose and a little giddy, and she was with her friends, and that was that.

She burrowed just a little more against Richie, and his fingers wrapped around her shoulder, anchoring her to him. If they’d been alone, she’d have been in his lap by now - not because it meant something, but because it was comfortable - but they weren’t and she couldn’t. It would look - well. Not good.

It wasn’t that she was doing anything wrong. They were friends. Probably her best ones, if she was being completely honest. No offense to Jess, but she’d never been as close to her as she was to the guys. And she couldn’t help it that the three of them were just very tactile people.

The conversation slipped easily back into place after that. Kalinda resumed dispensing gossip like it was a public service, Kate contributed where she could, head pleasantly hazy, and Richie stayed tucked into the corner of the couch behind her, saying very little. Every now and then he'd pass her the joint or make some quiet, sarcastic observation over her shoulder, sending her and Kalinda into fits of giggles.

Time seemed to soften around the edges, the music and chatter blurring together with the warmth of the hoodie and the steady weight of him beside her. It was comfortable. Easy enough that, after a while, she stopped paying attention to the rest of the party altogether.

Kate was halfway through telling Kalinda that Monica Hayes had absolutely stolen that top from the mall when the weight against the couch shifted.

Richie looked up.

Before she could turn to see what had caught his attention, somebody dropped bonelessly into the empty space beside her, jostling the cushions hard enough to make her spill a little vodka on her hands.

“Guess how much I won,” Seth asked, turning his back on a sputtering Kalinda and grinning broadly at her. He’d thrown his arms along the back of the couch, one partly behind her, and he used that hand to snag a loose tendril of her hair and tug.

Laughing, she wiped her hands on Seth’s jacket. He didn’t even seem to notice. Then she tried to brush her hair away from him, but he clung to it, winding it around his finger. “Guess,” he said again.

She had to bend her head back a little so he wouldn’t pull too hard. “Two bucks,” she smirked up at him.

“You’re in debt,” chimed in Richie.

“Cute. Real cute.”

He finally let go of Kate’s hair so that he could reach into his jacket, and pulled a ridiculously large wad of bills halfway out of an inner pocket, so that only the two of them could see. He smirked at Kate’s wide eyes. “Made bank, baby.”

“Man, don’t flash that shit around,” snapped Richie, but quietly. He cast a wary glance around them, narrowing his eyes briefly at Kalinda over Seth’s shoulder.

“I ain’t flashin’ shit. I wasn’t born yesterday, jackass.” Seth tucked the money back into his jacket, looking put-out.

“Coulda fooled - ”

Kate elbowed Richie in the side. “Oof,” he finished weakly, rubbing at the spot where her elbow had connected.

“See? Kate knows what’s up.”

“So not taking sides here,” Kate stated dryly, her head lolling back against Richie’s shoulder. She felt so light, as if she could float away at any minute. She closed her eyes. “You’re both ridiculous, is what’s up.”

Then she felt a light pinch at her side, and startled, eyes flying back open.

“Don’t fall asleep on us, princess. You wanna be known as the girl who passed out on Burt’s couch halfway through a party?”

“She will be, if you two don’t bore her to death first,” said a snide voice, and Kate remembered belatedly that Kalinda was still there, on Seth’s far side.

But before she could lean around him to speak, Seth reached out again, tugging at the front of her top. “Or freeze. You, uh, get cold, Fuller?”

There was a dangerous note in his voice; she could just hear the taunt locked and loaded behind his teeth. Kate huffed and crossed her arms across her front protectively. “Maybe I’m just making a fashion statement.”

He snickered and leaned back, so he could study her more fully. The playful expression slowly faded, then his head tilted. There was something in his gaze that had her clutching her cup until she heard it crinkle - a look she’d seen a handful of times now. A flicker of something warm, quietly pleased. Almost as if he liked what he saw.

Then his mouth quirked, and the moment vanished.

He made as if to get up, and Kate immediately protested. “You just got here!” She went to grab his jacket front, but just ended up sloshing her drink.

Seth just laughed. “Yeah, well winning makes a guy thirsty.”

But before made his way completely off the couch, he paused, one knee on the cushions and a hand catching himself on the back, leaning in so his mouth was at her ear. He got so close she could feel his lips just brush the delicate shell. “Also?” He murmured, tugging again at Richie’s hoodie. “Told ya so.”

Laughing, he ducked, but not quite in time to avoid Kate’s smack on his shoulder.

“I don’t know why I put up with you,” she sniffed, rubbing her hand and leaning back into Richie.

From behind her he stated, very seriously, “Too late now. We came as a set.”

“No refunds,” Seth added, finally clambering the rest of the way to his feet.

Kate rolled her eyes. “Believe me, I checked.”

Then Seth was off to the kitchen, probably for some tequila, and Kate was left with a goggling Kalinda and an amused Richie.

Kate blinked at Kalinda, slightly nonplussed at her expression. “What’s wrong?”

“…Y’all,” Kalinda finally declared, throwing her hands up, “are so frickin’ weird.”

Eventually Kalinda had to move, or get shunted off the couch by force when Seth returned, tequila bottle in hand. Rolling her eyes, she muttered something about drinks and stalked off in search of people who understood the concept of personal space.

Kate, now happily cross-faded and oblivious with it, only waved genially when she got up to leave, ensconced as she was between the two boys.

She found Burt and Ximena in the far corner by the pool table. Burt was perched on a stool with a beer in hand while Ximena leaned against the table, arguing with him about music, or movies, or politics. It was honestly hard to tell.

Kalinda stopped in front of them.

“Well,” she said after a long moment. “I wasn't expecting...all that.”

Burt glanced over her shoulder in the direction of the sitting area, then back at her. “Lemme guess. First time seeing the three of 'em up close?”

She frowned. “Is that...normal?”

Burt laughed into his beer.

Ximena, on the other hand, didn't look surprised. She just rolled her eyes and took a sip from her own cup. “Yeah. The Geckos are enough of a disaster on their own.” She paused, considering it. “Adding Kate to the equation somehow just makes it worse.”

“I dunno about worse, but weirder is pretty accurate,” Burt chimed in.

“Oh, you haven’t seen them out in the general public. It’s definitely worse.”

Kalinda was confused, intrigued, and also maybe a little worried. She was one hundred percent sure Kate had a boyfriend. She’d met the guy, after all.

She was less certain that the Gecko boys cared about this little fact.

Kalinda decided she needed another drink, and set off in search of one. And figured, just this once, that she'd leave well enough alone. Kate was a big girl, and if she wanted to collect a couple of extra boyfriends, well…as juicy as that was, it was exhausting to witness.

She caught one last glimpse of them as she headed for the stairs: Kate was still settled back against Richie, tucked into his hoodie, and Seth sat sideways on the couch facing her, their legs tangled up together.

Yeah. She wasn’t gonna try unpacking all that.

TBC! There's a part 2, coming soon :3