Pretty, Funky, Unorganized

A collective groan rang out and McCree huffed angrily. “Son of a god-damned, motherlovin’ -”

Someone next to McCree cleared their throat loudly. He glanced over and saw a pair of little girls sitting beside him. They both had wide eyes, staring at McCree expectantly, waiting for him to say a naughty word. The girls’ father was eyeing McCree with an aggravated look.

“My apologies,” McCree said, flushing and tipping his hat to the family, “seems my mouth got the better of me again.”

“Uh-huh,” the father said, shaking his head a bit.

“Mister,” asked the littlest girl.

“Yes, little lady?”

She giggled and grinned, “Are you a real cowboy?”

McCree smiled from ear to ear, “I don’t get to ride horseback as much as I’d like to anymore, but I can still rope n’ lope with the best of ‘em.”

Both the little girls let out a long ‘oooooh.’

“What’s a ‘lope,’” the older girl asked.

“It’s a kind of movement the horse makes,” McCree explained.

Before the children could ask anything more, their father spoke up. “Alright now girls, we’d better stop pestering the cowboy and see if we can find a hotel room for the night. I don’t think we’re getting on a plane tonight.”

“Aw,” both girls whined, hopping out of the chair. “Bye Mister Cowboy,” the littlest one said.

“Hope you get to ride a horse again soon,” the older one added.

McCree laughed, “Me too, little miss, me too.” He tipped his hat to them again and channeled his Woody the Cowboy impression for a, “Take care, partners.”

Both girls lit up and waved happily as their father ushered them away.

“What’s a man gotta do to get a family like that,” McCree chuckled to himself. “Can’t wait to have me a couple a’ girls to spoil the hell out of. “

With that thought, McCree’s mind instantly wandered to you. He glanced down at his phone and frowned at the clock. It was late where you were, but not ridiculously late. He could maybe chance a phone call.

But was that needy? To be calling you up in the middle of the night just to talk after only 1 date? But then again, this wasn’t technically a normal relationship. Maybe since he was your ‘sugar daddy’ he could call and have it not seem desperate.

Well, at least not too desperate.

“Fuck it,” he mumbled, grabbing his things and wandering around the airport, looking for a quiet place to have a personal conversation. McCree tucked himself into a hallway next to the closing food court and made himself comfortable, his luggage acting as a backrest as he lounged on the wooden bench.

McCree sat there, waiting for you to pick up – hoping you would pick up – while simultaneously wondering what he was going to say to you. He was debating the pros and cons of making up a more legitimate excuse for calling you than ‘I’m lonely’ when you answered.

“Hello,” you said, sounding a bit groggy.

“Ah, damn,” McCree said, scrunching up his face in embarrassment, “I woke ya up, didn’t I? I’m sorry darlin,’ I’ll – ”

“No, no! I wasn’t asleep,” you explained hurriedly. “Well, maybe a little, but I was just snoozing on the couch, so no worries. Something up, McCree?”

“Nothing dramatic,” McCree drawled, smiling at the drowsy tone in your sweet voice, “just stuck in a snowstorm is all.”

“Ew,” you said passionately, “I’m not looking forward to winter here in the city. It makes me even more of a hermit.”

“Better to be snowed in at home than in an airport.”

“Ah, shit! You’re still at the airport? Can’t you go get a hotel room or something?”

“I could,” McCree shrugged, “but I fully intend to hop on the first flight out of here. I just wanna be back in my bed.”

“Aw, I’m sorry Jesse,” you cooed, “I know we haven’t been together long, but it sure seems like you’re on the road more often than not. That’s got to be hard.”

“It is,” he sighed, “but it’s a little easier now.”

“How so?”

“Well, cause I got the idea of coming back and seein’ you to keep me goin,’” McCree said with a sly grin.

“Ever the charmer, aren’t you,” you laughed, “Tell you what, when you get back to town, I’ll have you over for a proper home-cooked meal. How does that sound?”

McCree groaned almost erotically. “Oh babydoll, you have no idea how good that sounds. Its been ages since I had anything home-cooked.”

You giggled on the other end of the line and McCree smiled wistfully. He missed you. He’d give just about anything to have you snuggled up next to him right now.

“Darlin,’” he asked.

“Yes?”

“Thanks for answering. I was in desperate need of a pick-me-up.”

“Of course, McCree,” you said kindly, “that’s what I’m here for. Did you just want to chat in general, or did you have something on your mind?”

“Nothin’ in particular, beautiful, just saw a couple of cute as all hell kiddos and their Pops and got all sentimental,” McCree admitted.

You laughed loudly and when you spoke again you sounded just a tinge mischievous. “I bet kids love seeing you, don’t they? That hat and those boots and those spurs . . . “

“Are you makin’ fun of my style, beautiful?! I’m downright offended,” McCree teased.

“I’m not making fun of anything,” you replied, “not in the least! The first time I saw you I was delighted. And I still am.”

“That’s good to hear,” McCree chuckled, “’cause if you weren’t a fan of my get-up we probably wouldn’t last very long.”

“I adore your ‘get-up,’ Jesse and never think otherwise – right down to the stitching on your boots, not to mention the size of them . . .” you hinted.

“Oh honey,” McCree moaned as he felt himself getting stiff, “don’t you be doin’ that to me when I’m stuck in an airport.” He already wanted you so fucking badly, but hearing you say that you wanted him too? It was almost too much.

“Sorry, big guy,” you hummed, “I’ll make it up to you sometime soon.”

“I’m going to hold you to that, sweet cheeks.”

A tender silence fell between you, McCree trying to savor every moment he could. He didn’t want to go back to staring at the ceiling and hoping he could sleep.

“Can I ask you something a little odd,” he said, letting his daydreams go a little wild.

“Please do,” you replied, yawning a bit.

“You like kids?”

You hesitated a moment, surprising McCree, but eventually said, “Yeah, I like kids, but if I’m being totally honest, they intimidate me too.”

“Intimidate ya?”

“Well yeah! I was an only child without little cousins or anything, so kids always make me a little nervous. I never liked babysitting because I was so terrified I’d do something wrong and someone would get hurt or choke on something and die. I don’t know. Maybe ‘intimidate’ isn’t the right word, I think I just get really nervous because I’m inexperienced, but I’m a girl, so I’m supposed to be a natural at taking care of kids but I’m just . . . not.”

McCree frowned at the overwhelming uncertainty and shame in your voice. “Darlin,’ I think you’re being a little hard on yourself.”

“I – I know,” you said timidly, “I’m sorry. It’s just been a rough week for me.”

“Don’t apologize,” McCree said warmly, “anything I can do for you? I hate to hear such a lovely woman feelin’ so low.”

You giggled at him and sighed, “No, Jesse, I don’t think there’s anything you can do, but I appreciate the offer. And I’m glad you called – made me feel a little less lonely.”

“Anytime you need me, you call hon’.”

“You know I’m the one working for you, right,” you asked jokingly.

“What? Is a man not allowed to care about his employees,” he quipped right back.

“Touche,” you laughed. “By the way, why did you ask if I like kids? I thought you said you didn’t have much in the way of family.”

“Oh, you know,” he fumbled, “just curious. Just ‘cause I don’t have a family now doesn’t mean I don’t want one someday.”

“I, um, oh,” you said quietly.

“No pressure or nothin,’” McCree sputtered out, “the question just came to mind ‘cause I was thinking about how you’d – ”

“How I’d what,” you pressed tentatively.

McCree flushed, thankful no one was around to see him. “I was – uh – well I may have just been thinkin’ about how you seem like you’d be a real good mom is all.”

“Oh Jesse,” you all but whispered, “I . . . Th-thank you. That’s really sweet.”

“Darlin,’” McCree said gently, trying to change the subject, “you sound tired as all get out.”

“That’s probably because I am,” you mumbled.

“Then I better let you get some rest,” McCree insisted, “goodness knows I could talk to you for hours, but clearly you need some shut-eye, so you get to bed – ya hear?”

“Alright, alright. I’ll do the arduous work of leaving my blanket cocoon and walking to my bed if you insist,” you said with a dramatic flair.

“I absolutely do,” McCree chuckled.

“What about you,” you asked, “are you going to be ok all on your lonesome?”

“I’ll be just fine, lovely. A little chat with you has me feelin’ right as rain,” he said with a fond smile.

“Promise,” you said gravely.

McCree laughed, “Cross my heart.”

“If you say so.” You were yawning as you spoke, making it hard for McCree to understand you, but also making him grin.

“Goodnight, sweet cheeks.”

“Goodnight, Jesse. Hope you’ll be home soon.”

You hung up first and McCree sighed. “Home,” he murmured, “wouldn’t it be nice to have one of those someday.”

“Talking to yourself, McCree,” came your sweet voice from behind him. He swiveled around with his most captivating smile on but faltered as he saw you, his eyes going wide and brows jumping up. “Well I’ll be damned . . . ” he muttered without thinking.

You burst out laughing and swayed bashfully. “McCree you may be a champion flatterer, but when you’re genuine, you’re truly genuine.”

“Sorry, missy,” he said, going red, “you just look real lovely tonight.”

“Thank you,” you said, brushing your hair back, “you look damn fine, too.”

McCree smiled, regaining his confidence, and offered his elbow to you while taking one last look at the way your flared dress gave you a shape that was almost too perfect. “Shall we,” he asked.

The two of you entered the packed place and approached the hosting omnic.

“Evein,’” McCree said, whipping off his hat, “Jesse McCree, reservation for two.”

“Mr. Jesse McCree,” the omnic repeated, taking a moment to process before saying in a very unconvincing voice, “I regret to inform you that your reservation has been canceled due to unforeseeable circumstances. We hope you come back to dine with us soon. Goodbye.”

“I – what,” McCree said with a scowl. “The hell do you mean my reservation has been canceled?!”

You squeezed Jesse’s arm and pointed to the back of the restaurant. He leaned over and saw a group of Talon executives talking in the back.

“Those God-damns sons of – ” McCree growled, clenching his jaw.

“Those guys are from that shady company, right? The one that keeps getting a bunch of legal allegations thrown at them and then cleared over and over?”

“Yes,” McCree said quietly to you, “their our main rival in Overwatch. Every damn part of would love to go over and tan their hides but – ”

“Please don’t,” you said, gripping him a little tighter. He looked down at your concerned face and melted a bit.

“What you think I can’t handle myself,” he asked with a grin.

“I’m sure you can,” you said worriedly, “but I’d rather not get in trouble with people like that. And, well . . . ”

“Well what, missy,” he pressed.

“I’d rather not watch you get hurt either,” you admitted, a flush coming to your cheeks.

“Ain’t you sweet,” he drawled, winking at you and chuckling as you went bright red. “Let’s just get out of here, then. Wouldn’t be very becoming of me to be pickin’ fights before the appetizers I suppose.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” you sighed.

“What now,” McCree laughed, holding the door for you.

“We get some . . . interesting patrons at Mona’s. I can’t give any details, but yeah, I’ve seen a guy or two get overly macho and get their ass kicked before I could finish a drink,” you explained with a hint of annoyance.

McCree laughed. “Well, I’m glad to hear I ain’t your worst first impression.”

“Far from it,” you said slyly, looping your arm around his before he could even offer it.

Why did this feel so right? Why did you feel so right? So quickly! The warmth McCree felt when he was near you was incredible, but also somewhat . . . intimidating. It felt too good. Just like it always did when he first met someone. The idea of him being destined to see you disappear out of his life was enough to make the man feel sick.

But he didn’t want to worry about that, at least not tonight. You were here and close and his for at least the next few hours.

You and McCree stood outside the swanky restaurant both of you wondering what to do next.

“Sorry for the trouble, missy. Seems luck ain’t on our side,” he said awkwardly.

He seemed so unsure of himself, the poor man. In the short time you’d known McCree it seemed as if he operated in a constant swing between infallible confidence and daunting self-doubt, so you stepped in.

“You know,” you began, “there’s a really good little taco place around the corner if you feel like taking a walk with me. We’ll be a little overdressed, but I don’t mind if you don’t mind.”

McCree let out a loud, good-humored scoff. “I’ll never say no to tacos.”

You smiled and led him along the sidewalk, sneaking closer to him when the path got crowded. Usually, this silence with a new client would be a bit uncomfortable, but at the moment you just felt safe. When someone who thought they were too cool to move out of the way, McCree gently steered you to the side and shoulder checked the fuck out of the guy, making you snort in amusement.

“Now look back with a nasty face on. He’ll scamper on off, I guarantee it,” McCree whispered in your ear. You followed his instructions and gave the other man a dirty scowl as Jesse did the same. Sure enough, the big bury man was all puffed up, like he was ready to come charging, but when he saw both your and McCree’s face, he shrunk a bit, turning to head away from you.

“Oh my god,” you giggled wildly, “I’ve never done anything like that! I can’t believe that bodybuilder grunt just walked away!”

“I’ve always gotten a kick out of making guys who think they are too good to be polite realize they’re bein’ dumbasses,” McCree said, still smirking.

“Why is that,” you asked, looking at him, silently wondering if that beard of his was as soft as it looked.

He frowned for a moment thoughtfully. “Never thought about it, to be honest,” he admitted, “but I imagine it’s because I used to be that little asshole. I was a piece of work back in the day.”

“Really,” you asked in surprise, “you’re so chivalrous now.”

“You have my boss to thank for that. Knocked some sense into me and I’ll always be grateful for that,” McCree said fondly.

“You’ll have to tell me about him sometime, but after we eat. Just the smell of this place is enough to make my stomach growl,” you said excitedly, dragging McCree to the window to order. He rushed along behind you happily.

Ten minutes later you and McCree were camped out at a rough picnic table, scarfing down spiced up meat slathered in cheese, veggies, and a mound of guacamole. He had tossed off his jacket and whipped his tie over his shoulder as things got sloppy, but he seemed perfectly pleased to be eating cheap food on the street rather than fancy Italian food.

“Looks like you’re enjoying yourself,” you said as he gulped down another bite.

“The fact that I didn’t know about this place ‘til just now is a damn crime,” he said passionately.

“Sometimes I bring people here, and they think it’s much too ‘low-brow’ for them,” you explained.

“’Low-brow’ is my home,” McCree said, licking his fingers. “I come from very ‘humble beginnings’ as Overwatch’s bio of me says.”

“And how would you describe it,” you asked, grabbing another napkin in an effort to save your dress from a stain.

He sighed, glancing away from you. “I’d call it ugly. Ugly, ugly beginnings.”

His tired, broken voice caught you off guard, striking you to your core. What had the world done to him as a child? “M-McCree,” you said gently when he remained quiet, “are you alright? I didn’t mean to bring anything up that was – ”

“No, no, little missy, you’re fine,” McCree said shaking his head, his smile coming back in a flash, “I didn’t mean to get all dark. Guess I’m more sleep deprived than thought.”

“Don’t worry about it. I do that too,” you said honestly, “when I’m overly sleepy my brain starts being an asshole.”

McCree laughed, “That’s a very good way a’ puttin’ it.”

“Indeed I have,” Mona grinned. “This is Jesse McCree, an Overwatch employee and newbie to our field. I’m sure you’ll figure out why I brought him to you.”

With that Madame Mona turned, leaving both you and the man in front of you with a small frown. Usually she gave you at least a little bit of info about your customers, but not this time. What the hell was she up to this time?

You and McCree turned your heads to look at one another in perfect time, making you flush and bow your head embarrassedly. He was certainly handsome, there was no denying that, and he had an incredibly charming demeanor surrounding him. The man was almost dangerously appealing. It was enough to make you unconsciously worry about his intentions, but you knew Mona would never bring a man to you that would hurt you.

She knew your past, she knew your fears, she knew your deep-seeded trust issues.

So you took a deep breath and looked back to McCree who was patiently standing near you. Well, at least he wasn’t pushing your boundaries, that was a good sign. “Please,” you said gesturing to the seat beside you, “join me, won’t you?”

“I’d be delighted ma’am,” he said, sitting down and setting his hat on the armrest.

“Ma’am,” you said with a playful scowl, “I don’t get called that very often.”

“I didn’t mean any offense,” he began, but you quickly shook your head.

“Oh, and I didn’t take any! Just found it a little amusing is all. And rather sweet.”

He smiled widely at you and settled into this cushion a little more. “I’ve always believed you should be respectful of any woman you come across, especially one as lovely as yourself.”

You leaned back against the back of the couch and let out a long, “Oooh.”

McCree frowned at you. “What’s ‘oh?’”

“I was figuring you would be a sweet talker, but I wasn’t expecting you to lay it on so thick and so quick,” you teased gently.

He opened his mouth as if to defend himself, and the shut it defeatedly and laughed. “Yeah, I ‘spose I do that. I was being honest, though, I swear. You are gorgeous.”

“Thank you,” you said flushing. His tone wasn’t as smarmy this time, and you completly believed him this time. It was enough to make your heart race.

“So,” he said hesitantly, rubbing the back of his neck, “like Madame Mona said, I’ve never done anything like this before . . . “

“I suppose you’ve got questions then,” you said understandingly.

“That I do, but I don’t want to sound rude, either,” McCree explained.

“Ask away,” you said crossing your legs and lounging on your half of the sofa casually, “I’ve had this conversation a number of times.”

“How long have you been doin’ this?”

“A few years,” you replied, “I’ve taken time off here and there to try other things, but I’m happy here. It’s been good for me.”

“You like it then,” he asked, sounding skeptical.

“Yes,” you nodded firmly, “I do. It may be hard to believe, but for personal reasons this environment of having a community of people looking out for me as I provide companionship for others is something I really needed. After I got used to it, the job became fun and rewarding. I feel lucky to be doing this.”

“Huh,” he said thoughtfully, “now you got me curious. Sounds like you’ve got quite the story.”

You looked down at your hands awkwardly for a moment, “I do, Jesse McCree, I do, but that isn’t something I like to talk about right off the bat. I hope you’ll understand.”

He seemed to get the meaning behind your words – the apprehension and lingering fear that snuck it’s way into your tone – and didn’t press you for any more answers. “That’s just fine,” McCree said, “just glad I got the chance to meet ya here.”

“As am I,” you said with a chuckle, “you seem like quite the interesting guy yourself. Can I ask what brought you here? Are you looking for a date for an event, or something that might last a little longer.”

“Honestly, miss, I’m not entirely sure,” he admitted with a thin sigh, “I jus’ – ”

It was quiet for a long moment.

“You can be honest with me, Mr. McCree,” you assured him tenderly, “we all sign confidentiality agreements, and even more important if you ask me, I’m not the type to judge anyone here. We all have our reasons and needs. We all have things we are looking for.”

He gave you a lopsided smirk and leaned back, his arm across the back of the couch, his hand coming close enough to touch you if he tried, but he didn’t. He didn’t try to test your limits by getting handsy like other patrons did, and you were incredibly thankful for that. Respectful customers were always a welcome surprise. “Well if I’m bein’ honest,” he said timidly, “I’m just damn tired of bein’ alone every time I clock out. Seems like no matter what city or country I’m in, I end up go to bars and lookin’ for someone special but end up just makin’ mistakes. On the rare occasions I get to be here in the city and have a bit of time off, I want to be with someone I like, not spendin’ hours bein’ a lonely old barfly.”

Your heart melted at how dejected he sounded. It seemed like a multi-prong problem – he wanted to be home more and the loneliness was creeping in. Suddenly you understood why Madame Mona brought him to you.

You were well acquainted with that all-encompassing loneliness and that need to find a place that made you feel safe. If you could help this man some peace, you would. In a heartbeat. And if you had a bit of fun with this handsome guy and made a good paycheck, even better.

“Hey,” you said scooting closer to McCree and pulling him from his dazed thoughts, “I get it. If there’s one part of my job that I love more than anything else it’s making people feel as if they’re not so alone in the world. I know how awful that can be.”

“Now that just can’t be true,” McCree said, back to acting like Mr. Smooth, “a pretty little peach like you being alone? I can hardly believe you’re here and don’t have a ring on your finger.”

You shrugged, “What can I say? Maybe I’m just super picky.” If he wanted to be a jokester and not get into the root of his problems during a first meeting, that was just fine, you’d follow his lead.

“Maybe,” he chuckled, “and who could blame ya? A gal like you should have someone equally stunning by yer side.”

“Do you practice all your suave lines in the mirror or something, or are you just naturally this smooth,” you asked cheekily.

McCree laughed loudly, a hearty, joyful noise that made you happier just by being close enough to hear it. Oh shit. This man. He was going to get to you, you could feel it. But you were a professional and knew how to keep your distance when needed.

Even if a part of you really didn’t want to.

Even if there was something in you that was already interested and tempted by McCree.

Even if you already had a fondness for him.

You knew better to expect ‘true love’ from this job, but a good experience would be nice.

So you offered to take McCree to discuss a contract, trying not to steal too many glances of his striking figure in the elevator.

@watch-your-grammer @zarcake-writes @collinssie @seachelle-the-tideborn @pand3mold3 @gladiosamicitias @killerqueen-23 

While it sounded innocent enough, in all honesty, it was a place for rich men and women to meet sugar babies in a safe and discrete environment. The outside of the building was innocuous enough to make McCree wonder if he’d gone to the wrong address, but the moment the double doors swung open, he understood.

“Well I’ll be a son of a bitch,” he chuckled as his eyes went wide. Neon lights in the shape of hearts, lips, and all body shapes lined the black walls of the lobby creating a wild contrast. There were a few men and women sitting along the sides of the room, waving cutely or chatting with other patrons, all of whom seemed to purposely frame the older woman in a massive satin chair that may as well have been a throne at the back of the room. She looked up and tipped her head to the side at McCree who flashed a bright smile and tipped his hat in return. The woman grinned and beckoned him closer with a finger adorned with long, painted nails. McCree walked quickly to her.

“Evenin’ ma’am,” he said in his most charming voice.

“Good evening,” she said with a nod, slowly looking him up and down with a smirk, “always lovely to see a new patron. It’s Jesse McCree, is it not?”

“Well yes, ma’am,” he said feeling a little uneasy, “I do apologize if we have met before and I don’t recall.”

“Ugh,” she said with a good-natured laugh, “that accent! My babies will be fawning all over you. And no, we have not met, but I make it my business to know the eligible, wealthy people in this city.”

“But of course,” McCree nodded, “here I was worrying Genji might’ve told ya about me.”

“Oh dear Genji, such a sweet boy,” she sighed dreamily, “if I were only younger . . . I will have to remember to thank him for referring you. But enough about all that, tonight is about you. Tell me, Mr. McCree, have you ever been a sugar daddy before?”

“No, ma’am, and please, just McCree is fine.”

The old woman hummed and grabbed a tablet from the side table next to her, looking down at it intently with her long, fake lashes. The gal sure knew how to dress the part of an expert matchmaker. She began tapping away at her screen, not bothering to look up at McCree as she berated him with questions.

“Looking for men, women, or no preference. No judgment here.”

“Well I’ve had a history with both, but – ”

“Just be quick and honest, honey, and we’ll get you someone to be on your arm in no time.”

“I suppose a lady then,” he wavered, suddenly incredibly unsure of what he really wanted. Mostly, he just wanted to have someone to hold when he needed to, someone to wrap an arm around and giggle at his jokes. However, in his line of work, there was little time to spend making a real relationship with someone, so why not pay for some companionship? McCree certainly had the bank account for it.

“Omnic or no,” Madame Mona continued.

“No.” All that metal was a bit cold for him.

“More skinny or more rounded.”

“Eh,” he said with a thoughtful look, “not a fan of anyone too boney, I guess. I gotta say though, no offense to your process, ma’am, but talkin’ about people all categorical like is a little . . . well, it makes me feel like my HR department would slap me.”

Madame Mona gave him a warm smile. “I always like when someone tells me something like that. Shows that they won’t treat my wonderful employees like objects, but don’t fret, cowboy, this is just some preliminaries so no one’s time is wasted. You’ll get to know a few gals personally before any decisions are made. Now, just a few more questions, a rundown of the rules, and then you can enter those double doors and see the wonders of my company for yourself.”

“Sounds lovely,” McCree nodded.

The old woman laughed again, “Those eyes of yours! Gracious! Anyway, any preference on age?”

“Not particularly, but not too far on either end of the spectrum.”

“Any bodily features that might be a deal breaker? Tattoos, scars, piercings?”

He chuckled. “That’d be awfully hypocritical of me.”

“I see,” she said tapping the screen like a mad woman, “you know, my boy, I think I know exactly what you need and what I think you want, but it’s not my place to decide. You’ll have to realize what you want is foolish on your own, so why don’t you head on through the doors and explore the floors. Once you’ve got a good idea of what we have to offer, you can discuss a contract with a girl you like, or you can come see me if no one ‘clicks’ with you. Ok?”

“I – alrighty,” McCree said in confusion, “but what you said about what I need – ”

She smiled wickedly and cut him off without an explanation. “As for the rules, McCree, know that this is not a whorehouse or anything of the like. My babies are professionals and protected to the fullest extent of the law. If at any moment one of my employees feel uncomfortable or mistreated you will be held accountable. There is surveillance everywhere in here, and all of my employees have panic buttons, so don’t be a dick. I will kick your ass out, and you will not have another chance, clear?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he nodded eyeing the two massive bodyguards on either side of the old woman.

“Lovely. Other than that, be courteous unless asked otherwise – including on the BDSM floor – and if you insult any of my employees without cause, you will be kicked out. Within these walls and the courtyard out back, you are only allowed up to makeout sessions, nothing more. Contracts have to be in place for anything more intimate. Your first visit is free, and fees will be discussed if you come back or if you find someone you wish to spend more time with, understood?”

“Be a gentleman, don’t get too passionate. Got it,” McCree smiled, still internally reeling at the phrase ‘BDSM floor’ being flung about so casually.

“Good! Have fun then, my boy!” With a wave of her fingers, the doors opened to a beautiful room full of beautiful people. And, more importantly, a bar that McCree made his way to, scanning the array of people milling about. The bartender got him a drink and handed him a small map of the place.

‘First floor: Basic Babies, perfect for brief relationships or newcomers.’

‘Second floor: Omnic Heaven, they deserve rights and pleasure.’

‘Third floor: The Intellectuals, for those who value deep discussions and companionship.’

‘Fourth floor: Kings and Queens, they are in charge and deserve to be worshiped.’

‘Fifth floor: Devoted Darlings, those who love to pamper and care for their SO.’

The list went on and on. It was mind-boggling!

“The fuck have I gotten myself into,” McCree mumbled in amazement, but there was still an undeniable excitement building in him. He picked up his glass and did just as Madame Mona suggested: explored.

And holy shit was there a lot to see.

And holy shit she was right about everyone fawning over him! Damn. Men, women, and omnics all tried to charm him, flaunting themselves in a variety of ways. While it was remarkable and a boost to his ego to feel so desired, no one felt quite right. No one stirred a feeling of genuine interest in him. If anything, seeing all the floors and all they encompassed showed him what he didn’t want. Some people were a bit dull for his taste and others were too much. Yes, some struck his fancy physically, and there were a few he sort of liked, but nothing . . . special. Which was rather baffling to him. In a place with this many potential partners, how could no one feel any more appealing than all his previous flings?

Just as McCree was waiting for his next whiskey and contemplating going back to the pretty raven-haired woman on the first floor, someone cozied up next to him, long acrylic nails drumming on the marble bar top. He bowed his head in embarrassment. Was he really bad enough at finding a good match that the boss had to come to his rescue?

“Can I buy you a drink, Madame Mona,” he asked, turning to her.

“No, but thank you, my boy,” she replied. “Besides, they’re all on the house for me.”

“I see,” he chuckled.

“Not having any luck, McCree,” she asked in a knowing tone.

“I – well, now – I’ve – ”

“Oh fess up, young man,” she beamed, tapping the brim of his hat, “you have no idea what you’re looking for!”

“Maybe I don’t,” he said, leaning on the bar, “but ain’t exactly looking for ‘forever’ here either.”

“True,” she nodded, “but you don’t want the same thing you’ve always had, do you?”

“You got a set of tarot cards hidden in that dress, Madame Mona,” McCree asked with a grin, “I’m like to believe you’re reading my mind.”

“Not quite,” she smiled, “I’ve just been doing this a long time. Reading people is what I do, and you’re an easy one to read. Some people come in here looking for something simple, some fun or some drama, but there are some – my favorite patrons – who come in here because they need to figure something but about themselves. That’s where my babies and I come in. I know them all as if they were my children and I know what they have to give, so why don’t you come with me and I’ll show you where I think you need to be.”

McCree hesitated, but in the end, adjusted his hat and nodded. “I’ll trust you, ma’am. Seems you know yer stuff.”

“That I do, that I do.” She led McCree to the back of the first floor to a pair of tall wooden doors removed from the rest of the party and gestured for the doorwoman to let them through.

A stunning garden greeted McCree, adorned with all sorts of trees and flowers and statues. The space was small and had plenty of nooks and crannies for hiding away, making everything seem much more private. The music was calmer here, just floating above them, soft enough to allow the babbling water of the fountain to still ring out.

“I didn’t even know this place was back here,” he murmured, looking around the dimly lit area curiously.

“Yes, I purposefully left it off the map. Only the ones who are truly curious or I think ought to start in this place find it. These are my gentler babies, the ones who get overwhelmed by all the madness inside and feel at their best when they are a bit secluded. Most of the time these dears are highly sensitive, too, and simply cannot deal with the more . . . tenacious patrons we sometimes get.”

“The drunk and horny ones,” McCree offered.

“Yes. And the serial mommies and daddies – the ones who are in here for someone new all the time. Tell me, McCree, does this sound like the type of person you usually go for?”

“Not particularly,” he admitted, grinning as a shy-looking young man who flushed as they walked by, “but I can see the appeal.”

“You’re usually with the more ‘bimbo’ type, aren’t you,” she asked bluntly.

McCree coughed on his drink. “I – no! And I’m not entirely sure ‘bimbo’ is a kind term to use on anybody.”

“Oh, you know exactly what I mean,” she said waving her finger at him. “I love all my babies, but some of them aren’t exactly the brightest or the most interesting. They all have their fortes, but not all of them are wonderful at academics or philosophical thought. What I think you need, McCree, is someone who will nurture you and challenge you. Someone who will make you smile and scold your filthier habits all at the same time.” Madame Mona plucked the dwindling cigarette from his mouth and snuffed it in a nearby ashtray. “This girl is one of my most lovely babies and I think she’ll make you think more than any other relationship you’ve ever had before. One of my biggest accomplishments is seeing a patron leave here knowing exactly what they need to have a long, healthy relationship. I believe if you give this young woman a chance, you’ll get to that point, too. And isn’t that really what you want? Something that will last? The moment you walked in you didn’t seem like the type that came here out of curiosity or lust, but because you were running out of options. Perhaps even hope, and that is what you need, McCree.”

He swallowed hard. God damn. She could read people. He hadn’t even realized all that about himself, but it all felt true. Incredibly true. He did want something real, something that made him feel whole. His hope had been dwindling, no longer seeing the point of regular old dating after all his failures. That being said, McCree just couldn’t get himself to give up entirely, though. He wanted love too much, so he nodded at Madame Mona and turned the corner that led to a small sofa surrounded by long, vibrant vines.

That was the first time he saw you in all your incredible beauty.

He poked his head out of the door with an apologetic look. “Forgive me, I did not mean to wake you.”

“It’s okay,” you said sitting up and rubbing your eyes, “I can always nap later. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he huffed, glaring at the bathroom behind him.

You stood and ambled over to him sleepily. “So you just felt like curing out my bathroom? I know it’s small, but at least it works.”

“That is not the problem,” Hanzo explained, “I just managed to drop my cufflink down your drain, it all. Just a minor inconvenience. I need to go by my apartment to change anyway.”

“Something special about this cufflink,” you asked, pulling back your hair.

He looked a little sheepish. “No. It is only a trinket.”

“Come on you pressed,” opening up your linen closet and grabbing the mop bucket, “fess up.”

With a bit of confusion on his face, he watched as you began to push all the junk under your sink to the sides to make way for the bucket. “I admit, it has some sentimental value, but what on Earth are you doing?”

“Emptying out the P-trap,” you yawned, “to get you your cufflink.”

“The what?”

“P-trap.”

His frown deepened. “A trap for pee? In the sink?”

You burst out laughing. “No, my cute little rich boy, not that kind of ‘pee.’ Just plumbing. Come here, I’ll show you,” you said gesturing for him to kneel beside you.

He did as instructed and you handed him a flashlight to hold. After losing power while taking a shower, you kept one in every room. As soon as you put on rubber gloves, Hanzo got apprehensive. “My beauty, it is just a cufflink, no need to do anything drastic.”

“It’s basic plumbing,” you grinned, adjust the beam of the flashlight by moving his outstretched hand. “What, will I no longer be a beauty if I get my hands a little dirty?”

“Not at all,” he said, handing you the towel you pointed at, “but I am more than happy to call a plumber to deal with this for you.”

You scoffed, reaching into the back of the cabinet under your sink to shut off the water supply. “No way in hell am I letting you pay for a plumber for this! And the plumbers ‘round here are usually booked for weeks. Just give me a sec, this won’t take longer than a couple of minutes.”

In curious silence, Hanzo watched as you unscrewed the slip nuts on either side of the curvy piece of PVC pipe and let the water trickle out. Once it was all dripped away, you pulled out the bucket and felt around for the little piece of metal. You smiled triumphantly as you pulled out the little silver pin.

“Ta-da!”

Hanzo chuckled at you and shook his head. “Who knew I had fallen for such a handywoman?”

“What can I say,” you shrugged, holding his cufflink out for him to take, “some of us were broke ass college students who couldn’t afford to hire a professional. Thank god for YouTube tutorials.”

His whole body recoiled as you held the slightly soiled piece of metal out, “I don’t suppose you have some rubbing alcohol?”

You giggled, taking off one of your gloves and handing grabbing a nearby bottle. “How did you get by before you met me?”

“A lot of hired help,” he smirked, helping you up. “Thank you for doing this for me, especially after I woke you up so rudely.”

“No worries,” you said, swishing the disinfectant around, “I’ve done it plenty of times with earrings before work.”

With a quick tug, Hanzo pulled you close and kissed the well of your neck. “You are remarkable,” he said wistfully.

“Hanzo,” you laughed, “it’s the most basic plumbing you can do – the opposite of remarkable.”

“One man’s common is another man’s unbelievable,” gazing at you dreamily. His look hade your heart race. “I wish I could stay here with you another day.”

“I get the feeling a workaholic like you has plenty of vacation days built up,” you grinned wrapping your arms around him.

“That I do, but unfortunately I also have a meeting with an international client as well. You know, it has been a very long time since I wanted to take a day off. I have always felt I needed the distraction.”

You gave his cheek a quick peck and toyed with his silken hair. “Lucky for you, I’ve got a ton of vacation days, too. We’ll have to make good use of them soon.”

“Indeed we will,” Hanzo hummed, “but for now, I must go. May I call you later? See if you are up to lunch?”

“Please do,” you nodded, reluctantly letting him go. “I’ll tell you all about the other household repairs I can do.”

“Sounds delightful,” he smiled, kissing you as long as he could before rushing out the door.

You spent the next hours or so pretending you would be productive, but instead fell asleep on the couch.  It was your cell phone blaring away that woke you up in a panic.

“Hello,” you said rubbing your tired eyes. Then came a three hour long, entirely infuriating conversation with your company. They had found out you were released from the hospital and wondered why you were not clocked in. Less than a week after you had been shot point-blank. You were still sore and taking a myriad of drugs to help your body patch itself up. You doctor had told you to stay off your feet as much as possible for a week, and even after that, you were supposed to avoid anything that put too much stress on your body until your next appointment. If anything happened to your injured lung, it could be utterly deadly.

And yet the boss was yelling at you for ‘bungling the Lucio event.’

After your call had been dropped the third time while you were being transferred, you gave up and turned your phone off in a fury. “Fuck that,” you snarled, breathing heavily through your anger. Your pain flared up in response, and you held your chest. “I am not at all ready to go in yet,” you whispered dejectedly. You steadied your breathing and eyed the pain pills on your coffee table. Sure they would help, but opioids scare the hell out of you after watching one of your classmates dissolve into addiction. You snatched your phone and turned it back on.

“This is exactly why ‘do not disturb mode’ is a miracle,” you sighed, scrolling through Facebook and smirking as the office’s calls went right to voicemail. Being petty could feel damn good.

But then a notification reading ‘one missed call from Hanzo’ popped up.

“Oh fucking fuck,” you hissed, rushing to call him back.

“I hope I did not wake you for the second time today,” he said as he answered.

“No, no,” you sighed, “just avoiding someone else’s call.”

“Who is that,” he said gravely.

“Work,” you grumped, “they wanted to know why I wasn’t at my desk and it became a whole thing from there.”

“You were shot in the chest mere days ago,” Hanzo reeled, sounding just as angry as you.

“It’s a load of bullshit,” you griped, “but I don’t really want to talk about it right now.”

“Why don’t you let me take you out to a late lunch then,” Hanzo offered. “I can meet you at that burger place you told me you were telling me about. ‘Drown your woes in a plate of bacon and cheese covered fries,’ as you said in the hospital.”

“Dear god that sounds amazing you groaned,” getting up to get dressed, “but it doesn’t really seem like your kind of joint. It’s a greasy, hole in the wall kind of place.”

“I trust your judgment,” he said matter of factly, “and I will take off my tie before entering.”

You grinned, knowing he would still stick out like a sore thumb. “Sounds good. I’ll call a cab.”

Sure enough, Hanzo’s suit and sleek appearance had the other patrons raising eyebrows – the place was right next to campus, so most people were in sweats and sneakers. As you slid into the seat across from him, Hanzo gave an unnerving look to the group of guys who were staring at him from across the room. They instantly looked away, and you grinned.

“I probably shouldn’t love it so much when you do that, but I do,” you giggled.

“Do what,” Hanzo asked, sliding a menu over to you. He had left his gloves, probably a sign that he thought this place was grimy – which it was, but that was all part of the charm.

“You know, scaring the shit out of people with a look.”

His brow furrowed a bit until you nodded toward the table of young men. “Ah,” he said casually, “I suppose it is an automatic reaction for me now.”

“You make it sound like you’ve been stared at a lot,” you hinted.

“I have,” he explained, “ever since I was a child.”

“Care you elaborate?” He hesitated, as he always did when his childhood came up. “Come on,” you pleaded, “you don’t have to tell me much, but if this thing between us isn’t going to implode there’s got to be a little more give and take. You know I won’t judge you.”

Hanzo sighed deeply and leaned back in his chair, “I suppose you are right.” He looked out the window and spoke quietly. “My family was very prominent where I am from, and as children, Genji and I were recognized and notable – and therefore scrutinized – from a young age. We were taught we were superior and in turn taught that we were feared. I especially took to this idea, cultivating an image and persona that kept others beneath me.”

You leaned across the table and ran a few fingers up his arm. Hanzo looked to you for a brief moment before looking down, as if ashamed. “Sounds to me like you were pressured into acting that way.”

“Even if I was,” he huffed, “I still had a choice to act otherwise, and I did not. My brother was able to be his own man, even though he was raised much the same way.”

“No one said being a kid and learn the ways of the world was easy,” you assured him, “we all did stuff we’re not proud of. But you’re moving forward, that means a lot.”

He gave you a thin smile. “I think you give me too much credit.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. “Did you, or you not just say something revealing about yourself?”

“I did, but I hardly think one small change constitutes ‘moving forward.’”

“It’s all about baby steps, handsome baby steps.”

The two of you ordered and ate a delicious bounty of unhealthy, happy-inducing food, Hanzo slowly loosening up. He even admitted the greasy fare ‘did, in fact, have decent flavor.’ Eventually, he set down his fork and gave you a knowing look.

“What is it,” you asked warily.

“Are we going to talk about your job making you upset now, or not?”

You groaned loudly. “Do we have to? I don’t want to ruin such a nice lunch with you, and I get the feeling I’ll be battling the bosses for the rest of the day.”

“Very well,” he said, sipping his drink, “but let me know if I can help, will you? I am more than happy to rain hell upon anyone for you.”

“Aw shucks,” you laughed, “you’re so sweet and intimidating.”

He scoffed. “I believe I can count on one hand the people who think I am sweet.”

“Just me?”

Hanzo thought a moment, “Very probably, yes.”

You smiled warmly at him, and he did the same, making you flush and toy with your necklace. Something in the back of your mind was suddenly clawing for attention. “Hanzo?”

“Yes,” he asked, still gazing at you.

“When are we going to talk about what we’re doing here? How we label this? Where we want it to go?”

He sighed and stroked his chin. “I know we need to, but I admit that I have been holding the conversation at bay.”

“You care about me, don’t you,” you asked softly.

“This morning you said you’d, well, ‘fallen for me.’ I not going to make you say any weighty words or anything, but you’re invested in us, right? You’re going to meet me halfway and talk to me and – ”

Hanzo reached across the table and took your hand, “I am completely dedicated to you. If you need anything from me or our relationship, you need only ask. I am here for you, as you have always been there for me.”

“Good,” you smiled, “I guess I just needed to hear it.”

He smiled and pressed a kiss to your knuckles, “I will be sure to tell you often. I adore you, and everything about you.”

@collinssie @watch-your-grammer @zarcake-writes @yesthisisbae @eebbapanda1@deercapitate @missbumblina@skyrina@justjaaaay@thewetbones@skyelentnight @ilovebva@punk-dork @cbrokeherboobs@sobanoodledragon@sydniesamm@honeyburger@knightofsexyness @queenoflabyrinths@speakingishard@iknowimcutethanks @ninevast@ivymarquis @sydniesamm@barbie-the-centrist@tumblertrash@angle0fthegourd@shaybae1997 @lillypet95 @rusty-potato@tt-nikithakppr @honeydew-do-you @kitties-and-unicorns @spookymf@seachelle-the-tideborn

“Hey,” you responded groggily.

“There’s my pumpkin,” your Nana chirped out, squeezing your hand. Your grandfather snorted in his sleep, but didn’t wake up.

“He could sleep through a plane crash,” you giggled.

“At least he remembered his neck pillow this time. Last time we traveled, he forgot it, and the chiropractor nearly lost his mind,” Nana chuckled. “But enough about him, how are you, my strong girl?”

“I’m fine,” you shrugged, “sore again, but I feel like I can take a deep breath now, so that’s nice.”

“I will go find a doctor,” Hanzo offered, heading to the door. Your Nana watched him leave then turned back to you excitedly the moment he was gone.

“Tell. Me. Everything,” she demanded giddily.

You grinned. Of course, you weren’t going to tell her everything, hell you couldn’t even tell her half of it, but you knew the old gossip wouldn’t let you rest until she had at least a few details.

“Alright, Nana,” you laughed, “I’ll tell you some of the good stuff. I met him at this fancy party a while ago, and we kinda got together. Trouble of it is, he sorta, um, dumped my friend to be with me instead.”

“Oh,” she said, lowering her voice as if every word you said was a precious secret, “well that’s complicated.”

“It was Lori. You remember Lori, right? The one who I was always covering for at work and driving home after benders?”

Nana’s face went sour. “Yes, yes. I remember you telling me about her. Never understood why you liked her in the first place.”

“Well, she helped me out when I first got to the company. Now I realize she was just using me, but still, that’s how it happened. We haven’t really spoken since I started going with Hanzo, though. That is, until she shot me.”

“She’s the one who shot you,” your grandmother reeled.

“Yeah,” you sighed, rubbing a sore spot on your chest, “that was her.”

“Good grief! What a jealous bitch!” You smirked at her swearing. As a kid, you had learned all your naughty words from grandma.

“I still can’t believe she went this far,” you groaned. “Hope they find her.”

“Oh they did,” your Nana said, “Hanzo said she’s been incarcerated and is going to be locked up for a very long time. Now that I think about it, he sounded very confident of that . . .”

“He probably made sure of it,” you murmured quietly.

“What was that?”

“Oh, nothing,” you said trying to put on a sweet smile. Nana didn’t need to know you were dating the sort of man who would throw money around and bribe officials to make sure you were safe. But you knew he absolutely would.

“Well, in any case, he seems like a nice man, if not a little quiet and scary at times.”

“You think he’s scary,” you laughed. He was, but it was different to hear your grandmother say it.

“Do you not?! He’s so grave looking with that angular face of his! And so somber! There was a rather unpleasant nurse in here a while ago who made a remark about ‘only stupid people get shot,’ and before your Grandad could start barking, Mr. Shimada there gave the fellow the most powerful look! Stopped the man dead and made him lose two shades of color in his face. Gave me the shivers, too.”

“He can be like that,” you admitted with a smile, “but he means well.”

“I get that impression,” your grandmother smiled. “He seems quite taken with you.”

“He is,” you nodded, “and I’m very lucky.”

“Not half as lucky as he is,” she said with a wink. “Although, I do wish he would open up a little. We’ve been sitting here for hours but he didn’t say much.”

“Gana-nana, opening up is absolutely not his strong suit.”

“Oh, but it’s just me! I’m a sweet old lady! Who wouldn’t feel okay opening up to me?”

“Someone who has a very complicated relationship with his own family,” you clarified.

“I see,” your Nana said, glancing at the door behind her. “He looks like the type of fella with some baggage. You just keep your priorities straight, alright? You are your first priority, and you don’t have to fix anyone.”

“I know, Nana, I know,” you chuckled. “You taught me that well when I was younger.”

“No grandbaby of mine is going to get roped into micromanaging a man like I did in my first marriage,” she said firmly.

“I’m doing my best,” you promised her.

A moment later, Hanzo and a doctor came in, prompting your Nana to smack your Grandad awake.  The doctor greeted you with a smile before launching into a summary of your progress. “Everything looks good so far. The tissue melded together quite nicely, your lung function is getting more normal, and you seem to be in good spirits.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, “I’m still sore and tired, but I feel like I’m getting there. Or maybe I’m just getting used to it.”

“Either way,” the doctor said, tucking her tablet under her arm, “I can’t see any reason you can’t go home now.”

“Really,” you grandmother asked worriedly, “so soon?”

“Yes. She’s been a model patient, and we have follow-up appointments scheduled, too, so I’m confident she’ll be fine. Should you need anything though, you can always give me a ring.”

“I’m not protesting,” you said taking the woman’s card from her outstretched hand. “Get me out of here!”

Your Grandad laughed. “You’ve hated hospitals since the day you popped out. Have I ever told you that story about the day your parents took you home?”

“Yes,” you groaned, “only a thousand times. ‘The minute yer momma stepped out of the sliding doors you clammed up and just looked around. Were quiet as a peep the whole way home.’”

You caught Hanzo smiling at your reenactment and wondered if you would ever hear stories about his childhood. Genji would probably happily spill the beans for you.

“Well if that’s the case,” the doctor continued, “hopefully you’ll feel better once you get some fresh air. However, once our pain medicine wears off, you might be feeling a little wiped out, so I recommend having someone at least come to check on you every once in a while if not stay with you a few days.”

“Maybe I should stay then,” Nana said, turning to her husband.

“You have to go? So soon,” you asked, your heart sinking a little.

“Rodriquez passed away last week. His memorial is the day after tomorrow,” your Grandad explained heavily. The name was familiar since he and your grandfather had been friends for decades.

“That’s awful,” you said shaking your head, “but you should both go to the memorial. I’ll be okay. The gals and Hanzo can look after me.”

“Oh, I don’t want to bother them,” your grandmother said with a wave of her hand. “I can stay.”

“It would not be a bother at all,” Hanzo finally piped up, “I had already planned on staying with your granddaughter should she need me.”

“Yeah, don’t take away my chance to make Mr. Fancy Pants here play nursemaid,” you joked, grinning at Hanzo.

“Well,” your grandmother hesitated, “it would be nice to be there for Rodriquez’s husband if he needs me. That dear man hasn’t been without his sweetheart for over seventy years . . .”

“Yes, go take care of him,” you insisted, “I’ll be just fine.” That, and you would rather spend your lazy days watching Hanzo’s handsome form take care of you instead of watching your Grandad rearrange your kitchen ‘the right way.’

“You just make sure those lady friends of your come over too,” Grandad said warningly. “I like that feisty one, and I want to make sure someone is scrutinizing this man of yours with a critical eye.”

“Marvin if you don’t cool it I’m never making you my signature alfredo sauce again,” your Nana snapped.

“Alright, alright,” the old man said, putting his hands up in surrender.

“Don’t worry, Grandad, Nicole is already on the job, isn’t she, Hanzo,” you smirked.

“She seems quite determined to find every possible fault in me,” Hanzo admitted.

“Good,” you grandfather muttered.

“Why don’t I go get a nurse to get you ready to go,” the doctor – who had been watching the spat with an amused smile – said before ducking out.

Not long after, you were bundled up in a pair of sweats and ready to finally go home. It was late in the day now, and you couldn’t help but notice you grandmother’s yawns.

“Nana, Grandad, did you get a hotel room,” you asked.

“Yes, but we can see you off to your apartment first. We’re fine,” the old woman replied.

“Speak for yourself,” Grandad said with a stretch, “I’m beat. Let this suit-wearing galoot take her home since he’s so keen on proving himself a good guy. We can come over in the morning and make the girl breakfast before we head out.”

“She’s out grandbaby Marvin! How are you not more concerned by all this?”

“Because I know just how tough our grandgirl is,” he said patting your arm. “We helped raise a hell of a young woman, and I know she’ll be okay.”

“Thanks, Grandad,” you said leaning over to kiss the top of his head. “And thanks for being a worry wort Nana, but I’m okay. All I want to do is sleep in my own bed, so you guys go hit the hay, too.”

“Oh alright,” she relented, “but you let me know if you need anything.”

“Yes ma’am,” you nodded, taking a step to Hanzo’s side.

“I have my car waiting,” he said offering his arm to you. You held his elbow and waved to your family.

“If you would rather be with them,” Hanzo began, “I will not be offended in the least.”

“No, no,” you said firmly. “I love them to bits, I do, but when I’m hurt or sick Nana starts hovering and makes it hard to relax. Grandad starts cooking way too much and destroys the whole house in the process. No, what I need tonight is quiet and you.”

“I am happy to oblige,” he said with a thin smile, opening the car door for you.

It felt like an excruciatingly long ride home, so the moment you were in the door you couldn’t help but scream, “Thank. Fucking. God!”

“You hatred of hospitals is . . . remarkable,” Hanzo said with a chuckle, locking the door behind him.

“Most things about me are remarkable though, aren’t they,” you grinned, leaning in to kiss him. This was the first time you had been able to properly put your arms around him since the two of you reconnected, and it felt fantastic. You buried your face in his chest and breathed in deeply. He always smelled clean and fresh, but now there was a tiny hint of antiseptic smell lingering on him, too. Fucking hospitals.

Hanzo kept his arms around your waist and smiled down at you. “Remarkable seems the most perfect way to describe you,” he agreed.

“It’s nice to be with you like this again,” you said softly. “I knew I missed being next to you, but I hadn’t realized just how much I’d missed it.”

“I know precisely what you mean,” he hummed gracing his hand up and down your back. You shivered.

“How long did the docs say I had to stay away from ‘strenuous activity,’” you asked leadingly, kissing the sensitive spot under his jawbone.

“Two weeks so you may properly heal,” he replied, “and I will be counting down every hour.” His hands gravitated to your ass as he left a trail of kisses from your ear to shoulder.

“Don’t tease me,” you laughed, pulling away from him.

“Forgive me,” he said with a glint in his eye, “it is still my favorite way to pass the time.”

You turned toward your kitchen and ruffled your hair. “I don’t suppose I could convince you to grill me a cheese while I take a quick shower instead?”

“Of course I will,” he nodded, making his way to your fridge, “but be careful not to get your injuries too wet. I have had plenty of experience with the waterproof coating they put on bullet wounds these days. It is only waterproof to a degree.”

“Have you been shot before,” you asked from the bathroom doorway.

“You have seen my scars before,” he said with an air of apathy, “you know how extensive they are.”

“That’s true,” you said thinking over the first time you saw him with his clothes off, “guess I didn’t recognize any of them as a healed bullet hole.”

“I am glad you have not had much experience in that,” he said pulling a pan from a cupboard. You couldn’t help but admire his toned butt.

“Here I thought all your scars came from sexual exploits gone wrong,” you laughed.

“I must admit, a few of them are,” he shrugged.

“Oh I’ve got to hear about that,” you demanded before heading to wash the grime off of you.

By the time you were feeling clean and mostly normal again, the pain medication was wearing off, leaving your aches much more noticeable. You flopped onto the couch in your pjs and sighed, rubbing your stitches. Hanzo brought a plate to you a moment later and sat.

“Thanks, Hanzo,” you said blinking your tired eyes.

“Are you feeling worse now,” he asked, his arm resting on the back of the couch behind your head. You nodded. “What can I do?”

“Nothing,” you said simply, “I think I just need to sleep in my own bed. And the warm, cheesy goodness helps, too.”

He smiled wide. “I’m glad my sandwich preparation skills are still adequate. I do not cook as much as I used to.”

“You used to?”

“Yes, after I . . .  broke away from my family, I lived alone for a number of years on very little means, and so I had to learn to cook. You should have seen my first attempts. They were some of my most undeniable failures.” He grimaced as if he could still taste something burnt in his mouth.

“You’re so dedicated, though, I bet you did all the research and all the practice and figured out how to ace all your favorite meals,” you said worming a little closer to him.

He let out a loud laugh, “You certainly know my tendencies.”

“Will you make me something fancy someday,” you asked, taking another bite, “I’ll return the favor.”

“Anything you like,” he promised in a low tone, weaving his fingers into your hair. The sensation put you even more at ease, and your lids grew heavy.

“Hanzo?”

“Yes?”

“Will you stay here with me tonight? I know we can’t have any fun or anything but I – I’d . . . ”

“If you want me to stay I will,” he said with a small kiss to your forehead. “Anything you need, I am here.”

“Thank you,” you said placing your hand over your chest. “I just – it’s hard to feel safe and strong after what happened. I try my best to a confident woman and take care of myself, but after Lori . . . I just want someone close by. As much as I hated being stuck in that white room with an IV in my arm, at least there was a nurse call button and staff looking out for me all the time.”

“You will never be alone if you do not want to be so long as I am alive,” Hanzo sad firmly. “I could not be there when you were hurt, but I will do all I can to keep you safe from now on.”

You giggled, “You are a formidable guy. I’d be scared to fuck with someone I knew you cared about.”

“And I pity anyone who dares antagonize you once you recover. I have no doubt you will come out of this stronger than ever. It is just who you are, and one of the things I most adore about you.”

“You’re so good to me,” you smiled, kissing his arm.

“I will try to be deserving of you.”

“I know, and I will be, too. But no more trying tonight. I’m exhausted and I need some sleep. ASAP,” you groaned.

“Do you have fresh sheets for your bed,” Hanzo asked, standing.

“Yeah, in the top of the closet, but I don’t know if they really need to be changed yet.”

“Nonsense,” Hanzo said with a small frown, “few things feel better than fresh sheets. Finish eating, and I will make up your bed.”

“Thanks, my considerate man,” you beamed.

After a few moments of spacing out, you heard Hanzo call out to you.

“May I ask you for a favor,” he asked.

“Um, sure,” you hesitated.

“Remind me to but you decent sheets,” he said, a displeased lilt in his voice.

“Are you judging my bedding,” you laughed.

“Yes, my beauty, yes I am.”

“Fancy pants,” you chuckled under your breath. Despite Hanzo’s insistence that your sheets, pillowcases, and mattress all needed to be replaced, he still crawled into bed with you, letting you snuggle up as much as you wanted. With him pressed against you, the feeling of safety settled into your bones and allowed you to drift peacefully off to sleep.

@collinssie @watch-your-grammer @zarcake-writes @yesthisisbae @eebbapanda1@deercapitate @missbumblina@skyrina@justjaaaay@thewetbones@skyelentnight @ilovebva @punk-dork @cbrokeherboobs@sobanoodledragon@sydniesamm@honeyburger@knightofsexyness @queenoflabyrinths@speakingishard@iknowimcutethanks @ninevast @ivymarquis @sydniesamm@barbie-the-centrist @tumblertrash@angle0fthegourd@shaybae1997 @lillypet95 @rusty-potato @tt-nikithakppr @honeydew-do-you @kitties-and-unicorns @spookymf @seachelle-the-tideborn 

You had told dear old Mom and Dad that you didn’t mind.

But you did.

But at the same time, you were used to being second priority to their business.

But it still stung.

At least your grandparents were on the way, the wonderful people they were. Despite their age, the moment they heard you were hurt, they were buying train tickets. Your grandfather was very kindly deep down, but he was also very cantankerous and refused to fly on airplanes. His doctors had cleared him for air travel plenty of times, but the old man still would not board a plane for the life of him, hence why your Nana and Grandad were still in transit. That and your grandfather’s appointment with one of his three medical specialists.

Hanzo, however, had been at your side every evening to keep you company. Your friends were still extremely skeptical of him, so he avoided seeing them as much as possible. It was amusing to see him so tentative about something but he, “would rather not get his head bit off by three impassioned women.” You couldn’t blame him. Mags, Nicole, and Jules could be damn formidable when they need to be, especially when it came to one of the other girls in your little cohort.

It was nice though, having Hanzo all to yourself again, curled up on the small hospital bed absently talking about anything that came into your heads. He was being much more forthcoming this time around, sharing little stories about himself, answering silly questions a dating profile might ask. He preferred the country to the city, but wouldn’t be able to stand the commute into work. He didn’t like driving the vast majority of the time, but was also very particular about his cars. The man had a pilot’s license he used a few times a year to escape everyone and everything for a few days. He had homes all over the world, but none of them were more than two bedrooms – he preferred small spaces to big, unless he was outside.

Put plainly, you were finally getting to know him properly, and he you. And it was great. You laughed together and day-dreamed about all the places you could take one another – he was incredibly unknowledgeable about the American mid-west, but you had only been out of the country once, years ago. You would fall asleep each night with Hanzo toying with your hair and murmuring random stories in your ear. He always made you feel warm and safe before you drifted off, which was remarkable considering how much you detested hospital rooms.

Tonight, though, you were hours away from surgery, which had your stomach flopping every which way, no matter what Hanzo said.

“My beauty,” he said crossing his arms and looking down at you, “you must calm down. There is no need to be worried. The procedure straightforward and you have one of the best surgeons available, I made sure of that. Please, try to relax.”

“They’re messing with my lungs, Hanzo,” you moaned, “those are pretty crucial. It’s scary. I could die.”

You were sitting up in bed, cross-legged and bouncing your knee nervously. Hanzo put a hand on each side of your face, the soft leather of his gloves sending a comforting smell to your nose. “You will not die,” he said fiercely.

A heavy sigh left your chest as you pursed your lips up at him. “It’s not like you to be unreasonable. You know I could die. We both do.”

“Yes, there is a possibility,” he admitted, sitting on the edge of your bed, “but I do not wish to think of it. Which, you are right, is not like me. Usually, I prefer to face things as they are, but there is much about you that makes me act oddly.”

“Hanzo,” you said scrutinizing his stone-like face, “you look exhausted.”

“I am fine,” he insisted unconvincingly.

“You’re usually here with me late into the night,” you said thoughtfully, “and I know you work like a madman, so I bet you’re not getting much sleep, are you?”

“You are more important.”

“No, I’m not,” you frowned. “Your well-being is just as important as mine, dumbass.”

He chuckled, “’Dumbass?’ I am a dumbass for wanting to spend time with you while you are injured?”

“Well no,” you said rolling your eyes and smirking, “but you gotta take care of yourself, too. Pretty soon I’ll be out of here, and someone is going to have to baby me while I recover, and I’m hoping that person will be you.”

“Do you believe your friends will allow that,” Hanzo asked with a raised brow.

“Meh, they’ll get over it. And they’re busy. Mags is nesting like crazy in preparation for the baby, Natalie is, well, Natalie-ing at a bunch of venues this month, and Jules has to get that monster of hers up and running for the horror film she’s working on.”

“What exactly does Natalie do,” Hanzo asked curiously.

“To be honest I’m not sure,” you grinned, “but I think she mostly goes to fancy restaurants and clubs to ‘appraise’ them. Mostly I think she’s just rude to people until they do what she says, but in all fairness, she does have exquisite taste and boosts the reputation of every place she goes to.”

“She gets to be judgmental and angry for a living?”

You snorted, “Basically! And she’s great at it.”

Hanzo glanced you over and smiled, “You seem to feel so much better. If only I could take you home now and pamper you.”

“You’ll look after me when I get out of here then,” you asked excitedly.

“Of course,” he scoffed, “I was only hoping I would not have to fight your friends for the privilege.”

“I think as the patient I get the final say on who takes care of me and I want it to be you,” you smirked scooting closer to him. “I bet you know how to pamper a girl right and you have two very good reasons to pamper me.”

“Recovering from a gunshot wound and what else,” he asked.

“Being a dick and causing us to break up in the first place.”

You meant it to be a joke, a gentle ribbing meant to start putting that whole mess behind the two of you, but Hanzo didn’t see it that way. His head ducked, and he grabbed the blanket under him tightly. “I do have much to atone for,” he agreed solemnly.

“No, Hanzo, I didn’t mean it like that,” you began, but then a nurse came knocking and interrupted you.

“Hey there,” the tall woman said, “we’ll be prepping you for the OR here in a sec, so you and the fella better tie things up.”

“Alright,” you nodded, and the nurse took her leave. Your fear kicked back up to a ten, and you sucked in a deep breath in an effort to calm yourself.

Hanzo noticed and took your hand. “We have done everything we can to make this procedure as smooth and safe for you as possible. You have a highly skilled and experienced team operating on you. There is nothing more we can do than hope for the best. I believe threatening your surgeon with scandal and loss of her medical license will only make her jittery, so I shall not do that again.”

“You threatened my surgeon,” you gaped. Hanzo grinned slyly, and you smacked his arm. “That’s a terrible thing to do!”

“I am only joking,” he snickered, “but I did pay to have her flown in to take care of you. These days I try to go the less violent route when I can.”

“These days?”

“Please, do not ask,” he huffed, shaking his head and standing from the bed. A moment later the nurses arrived to whisk you away. You grabbed Hanzo’s hand and squeezed it tight. “I will be just outside the whole time, I promise,” he whispered kindly.

“No,” you said shaking your head, “go home. Get some sleep.”

“I am not going to leave you while they operate,” he said incredulously.

“I insist,” you said firmly, “they’re going to keep me overnight at the very least, and I’ll just be sleeping, so you should rest, too. There won’t be anything you can do here.”

His dark, beautiful brows were low over his eyes as he thought over your request. “Fine,” he eventually said, “but let me know the moment you wake up, agreed? I know how much you hate to be alone here.”

You waved your hand and blew a raspberry, “Don’t even worry about that! My grandma and grandpa will definitely be here by then to smother me. I’ll be just fine.”

“They will be here tomorrow,” he asked, his voice wavering just a hair.

“Yes,” you said tentatively, “why does that seem to freak you out?”

The male nurse chuckled softly. “First time meeting the lady’s family?”

Hanzo straightened his posture, making him look wider and more imposing, but there was still a slight red tinge to his face.

“I get it,” the other man said with a reassuring smile, “nearly shit a brick the first time my met my fiancé’s family.”

The female nurse let out a loud laugh, “You were quivering like a leaf all day!”

You giggled and smiled widely at Hanzo who was doing his best not to look concerned, but now you could see he most definitely was. “Relax, it’ll be fine! My Nana will love you – she loves pretty much everyone at first – and Grandad will . . . Um, well, I’ll tell him to be nice.”

“How reassuring,” Hanzo moaned, his hand over his face.

“Lie back,” one of the nurses said, patting your pillow, “time to go.”

You bit your lip and eased down. The incisions from your last surgery were still a bit tender, and now you would have to go through it all over again. In an instant your roles had reversed again, Hanzo comforting you rather than the other way around.

“The people in that operating room have done this procedure numerous times. You are as safe as you can be in their care, and I will be back at your side as soon as I can,” he said before taking your hand and kissing it gently.

“I’m as safe as I can be,” you repeated with a nod. “Thanks, Hanzo.”

“Of course. Now rest easy.”

“You too,” you said with a thin smile before they wheeled you away.

Unsurprisingly, the next thing you knew, you were back in your room again. The only thing that had changed was the time of day and the renewed pain in your chest. You groaned and rubbed your eyes as the sun beamed on your face.

“Oh my poor little pumpkin,” a familiar voice cooed before your face was splattered with unrelenting kisses.

“Nana. Nana! NANA,” you shrieked through aching laughter. It hurt to have your chest bouncing up and down like that, but hearing your grandmother blubber out adoring phrases made it worth it.

“Let her breathe, Claudia,” you grandfather spat jokingly, “you’re going to suffocate the kid’s newly patched up lung.”

Your grandmother let you go and smacked her husband’s arm. “Oh, hush you! I can snuggle my grandbaby as much as I please!”

“Could you at least be a bit more gentle next time,” you asked, a hand covering your throbbing snitches.

“I – oh darling! I’m so sorry,” the old woman gasped dramatically.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” you insisted, “just very sore. But also very, very happy to see you two.”

“How ya feeling, chipmunk,” your grandfather asked, rolling his wheelchair up to your bedside with a massive smile.

“I’ve been better, but I’ve been worse, too,” you shrugged. “How are you holding up?”

“Fit as a fiddle,” he said doing a wheelie in his chair for show.

“One of these damn days you’re going to fall on your bald head and crack your skull open doing that,” Nana sighed, shaking her head.

“Babe, I’ve been doing this for ages,” the old man cackled, “natural to me as blinking by now.”

“Uh-huh,” his wife said doubtfully. Their banter instantly lifted your spirits and made you feel as if you were home again. Something about the way your grandfather still called his misses ‘babe’ and the way she still held his hand at every opportunity just made you happy inside.

“I’m glad you two are doing well,” you said sitting up in bed a bit.

“Us?! Us?!” Your grandmother gaped, “What about you?! My dear, sweet, baby girl! Shot!”

“Could hardly believe it when we got the call,” you grandfather agreed, “people these days . . .”

“I’m okay,” you assured them, “no need to fret.”

“Your granny is still going to,” your Grandad chuckled, leaning back in his chair a split second before your grandmother launched into a veritable speech on why she should absolutely be worried and just how worried she was. You barely got a chance to get a word in, awkwardly explaining to the old woman that other people were worried as well and ought to know that you were doing alright. She lectured right through your texts to Hanzo and the girls.

As expected, Nana and Grandad began to treat you as if you were paralyzed, not just recovering. She tried to feed you a mass of food she had prepared while he took it upon himself to inspect your bed to “make sure they didn’t give you shoddy digs.” You were turning down a third helping of chicken soup while listening to your grandpa complain about the lack-luster locks on the window when a timid knock rapped on your door, silencing everyone.

“Who is it,” Nana asked as if it were her own front door.

Hanzo opened up the door just enough to poke his anxious looking head in.

“Well hello there, dear,” your grandmother cheered, racing over to the door and throwing it open for him. “Come in, come in! The more, the merrier! Anyone who comes to visit my grandbaby is a friend of mine.”

“Thank you,” Hanzo said respectfully, taking a small step into the room.

“Harrumph,” Grandad practically growled as he wheeled himself over to Hanzo’s side, “is this that boss of yours that has been treating you like shit? ‘Cause I got a few words for him. . . “

“No, no,” you sputtered quickly, trying to save Hanzo from getting a grumpy earful, “he’s not my boss.”

“And watch your language in front of our granddaughter’s friend,” Nan said sternly.

“Clearly he’s a grown man,” your grandfather said, gesturing to Hanzo flippantly, “I’m sure he knows all the ‘naughty’ words.”

“Still. And don’t make assumptions,” his wife hissed before turning to Hanzo with a smile bright enough to blind a man. “Ignore my other half, traveling always gets to him.”

“And having my one and only granddaughter shot.”

“Do not joke about our baby’s baby getting shot,” Nana snapped.

Hanzo looked at you desperately for saving, and you struggled to contain uproarious laughter.

“Anyway,” Grandad said giving Hanzo a close once-over, “you a coworker then? Neighbor? What are you doing here?”

“I, well,” Hanzo began awkwardly, adjusting his tie as he tried to find the right words to say. Although, it seemed a bit like he was struggling to say anything.

“We’re seeing each other,” you blurted, also not sure how exactly to label your relationship.

“Oh,” your grandmother said with an air of confusion. Then she turned around to look at you, and her eyes went wide.  “Oh! OH! This is your – oh! Well . . . alrighty then.”

It was apparent that a lot of assumptions were being made all of a sudden and you smacked your head into your hand. What a fucking mess this was going to be. At least Grandad didn’t have a gun out like the last time you had brought someone home to meet them.

Hanzo recovered quickly and so smoothly it was as if nothing had ever happened. He put on his most charismatic smile and extended a hand to your grandmother. “I am Hanzo Shimada, ma’am. It is a pleasure to meet you.”

The charm dripping from Hanzo’s attempt to salvage his first impression was enough to make you flush. He shook your grandmother’s hand, putting his opposite hand around hers in a sweet and kindly way, making her giggle like a schoolchild.

“It’s nice to meet you too, Mr. Shimada. I’m Claudia.” She let out a flustered ‘oh my’ as he bowed lowly to her. “Oh I like him,” she fake whispered to you, jerking her thumb to Hanzo.

“I knew you would,” you grinned, giving Hanzo a quick wink. Look at him doing so well even though there was still panic in his eyes.

“Well I don’t,” Grandad huffed.

“Marvin,” your Nana gasped, smacking him again.

“Just being honest,” he shrugged, “never liked guys in fancy suits. I just don’t.”

“I think he looks sharp,” your grandmother retorted, pulling Hanzo deeper into the room so he could stand beside you. Your man seemed to relax a little now that he was close to you.

“Grandad,” you said with a sigh, “please don’t be too harsh.”

“At least let me ask a few questions,” the old man said, squaring himself up to Hanzo and scowling and the man.

“Of course,” Hanzo said calmly, but you could tell by the way his hands were tightly clamped behind his back that he was hanging on to his composure by a thread.

“You got lots of money, don’t you,” Grandad asked, keeping constant eye contact throughout his interrogation.

“Yes, yes I do,” Hanzo nodded.

“Make it behind a desk?”

“In many ways, yes, but I have also – ”

“Uh-huh,” your Grandad cut him off, clearly not impressed. “You planning on covering all my girl’s medical bills?”

“I already have,” Hanzo responded.

“You have,” your Nana gasped.

“You have,” you asked in shock.

“Yes,” Hanzo replied, turning to you. “I realize I should have asked, but the night it all happened I was only thinking of some way I could help. The last thing I wanted was for you to survive, heal, and then have a massive medical bill hanging over your head. I may not be a doctor, but I could at least do that one thing to make this all a bit easier on you.”

He looked almost embarrassed, and you ran a hand down his arm soothingly, “That really wasn’t necessary, Hanzo.”

“I know, but I felt as if I needed to do something for you, lest I lose my mind,” he said with a shrug.

“Yep,” Grandad said as if he’d found the murderer in a mystery novel, “you’re the type that likes to throw his money about to solve all his problems. Not my favorite type of man. Not. At. All.”

“Marvin,” Nana scolded.

“Grandpa,” you barked furiously.

“Oh, I can see through this guy a mile away,” your grandfather continued as if nothing had happened. “Not the type to take responsibility, just puts band-aid made of cash on everything to cover up the damage he does.”

Just as you were about to uncork at your usually very endearing grandfather, you saw Hanzo’s demeanor change out of the corner of your eye and went silent. Your grandmother did the same.

“I have not always been the best of men,” Hanzo said, no longer willing to be attacked and fully ready to defend himself, “but I am not a man who does not take responsibility for my actions. I know many men like that and I will not be put in with them. I have not always been a man of means, and I do not take my comfort for granted, nor do I use my wealth to buy favor with anyone. When I make a mistake, I am fully aware of that and do everything in my power to make it right. I know that the most important things in this life have nothing to do with material goods and I most certainly do not believe that money fixes everything. When it comes to loved ones, time and care are paramount, and that is what I intend to give your granddaughter.”

As Hanzo finished his retort, you found that you were smiling. People didn’t challenge your grandfather back home – a fact that the old man was known to push a bit too far sometimes – so watching the man you cared for basically say, ‘I don’t care what you think, I’m going to be with this woman so help me god,’ was oddly intoxicating.

But your grandfather ruined the mood in an instant with a strong punch back:

“If you care so much, where the hell were you when my grandbaby was shot?”

This took Hanzo aback, his head jolting just the tiniest bit in surprise before he looked at the floor in shame.

It wasn’t his fault.

Hanzo would have taken that bullet for you if he had the chance.

You knew it.

He’d even said it to you the other night.

You loved your grandpa dearly, but he had a nasty habit of being nasty to any man that got close to you.

And you weren’t going to have it this time.

“Grandad. Not. Okay,” you said lowly, making the older man turn to you with a look of shock, as if he had forgotten anyone else was in the room. “Hanzo cares about me more than you know and there was nothing he – or anyone else – could have done to change happened. Lori went off her rocker and shot me. That’s it. You have no right to make him feel guilty for that. I really, really like this guy, and I expect you to give him a chance, not just judge him because you can. He makes me happy, and that ought to be enough to make you realize that he’s worth getting to know at the very least.”

“I – you’re right,” your Grandad mumbled, squirming in his chair. He glanced up at Hanzo and sighed. “Sorry about that. Guess I got a bit overprotective there. It’s just that my grandbaby here is my world and seeing her all laid out in a hospital bed, attacked the way she was . . . I suppose I don’t trust anyone around her right now.”

“I understand,” Hanzo said with a nod, “she is worth protecting, there is no denying that.”

That answer seemed to please Grandad well enough, but the air in the room was still saturated with hostility.

“Oh Marv, you’ve been protecting our little grand-girl like she was a porcelain doll ever since she came into the world,” your grandmother said, diffusing the tension with a grace you’d only ever seen her possess. She put a hand on her husband’s shoulder and patted him. “Why don’t we get you something for that sweet tooth of yours? That ought to bring up everybody’s mood.”

“You’re right, as always,” your grandfather nodded, kissing his wife’s hand. “What would I do without you?”

“Ostracize everyone, evidently,” the old woman grumbled, only half-jokingly as she wheeled him out of the room. “Back in a tick, pumpkin! You eat some more of my soup while we’re gone, alright?”

As soon as they were gone, you let out a long sigh, and Hanzo slumped over as if exhausted.

“Please tell me you have a small family so I may not have to endure that ordeal too many more times,” Hanzo begged.

You giggled and pulled him close enough to kiss. “I have an itty bitty family, I promise. Grandad was definitely the worst of it, too.”

“That was a nightmare,” he groaned into your hair. “I haven’t felt that . . .”

“Inadequate,” you offered.

“Yes. ‘Inadequate’ in ages.”

“Yeah, Grandad has a way of doing that. He’s top dog in my little town back home, and I think that may have inflated his ego over the years. But you did great!”

Hanzo reeled back and frowned deeply at you. “’Great?’ How could that be described as ‘great?’”

“Because you let him have his piece, and you then pushed back when he went too far. Most men just roll over for him. He’ll respect you for standing your ground. Eventually.”

“Eventually,” he said dismally, rubbing his temples.

“Hey,” you said hugging his torso and resting your chin on him as you gazed up at his impossibly gorgeous features, “relax. The only other people you have to meet are my mom and dad. You’re a successful businessman, so they’ll fawn over you, guaranteed. That, and Nana is already head over heels for you, so she’ll break down Grandad’s resolve. Grinding down his edges is her specialty.”

“I am glad you are confident about all this, even if I am not,” Hanzo chuckled, weaving his fingers into your hair.

“Even if something does go bad, don’t sweat it. I’ll cover for you,” you laughed, the wound in your chest slowly getting used to the sensation.

“I have survived hundred upon hundreds of ruthless corporate meetings, but that was daunting,” Hanzo snickered, sitting beside you and placing a kiss on your cheek. “Although, I believe I am beginning to see where your penchant for biting jokes and profanity comes from.”

“Oh yeah,” you grinned, “that’s all slightly boozy Grandad babysitting me as a kid. Definitely.”

@collinssie @watch-your-grammer @zarcake-writes @yesthisisbae @eebbapanda1@deercapitate @missbumblina @skyrina@justjaaaay@thewetbones@skyelentnight @ilovebva @punk-dork @cbrokeherboobs@sobanoodledragon@sydniesamm @honeyburger@knightofsexyness @queenoflabyrinths@speakingishard @iknowimcutethanks @ninevast @ivymarquis @sydniesamm@barbie-the-centrist @tumblertrash@angle0fthegourd@shaybae1997 @lillypet95 @rusty-potato @tt-nikithakppr @honeydew-do-you @kitties-and-unicorns