#tuckertag

Tucker cleared his throat, thumb jutting back in that direction. “Um. We, uh, we… Everything’s ready.” His gaze wouldn't stay on her for longer than a millisecond. “We’re going in now.”

The dark of night, the old house, the cold drafts and unexplained sounds… none of it scared Cait, because she couldn’t focus on any of it. All she could feel all night was the hot blush on her cheeks, the pit in her stomach, and the shame as she realized Tucker wasn’t looking at her, talking to her, or even standing close by. 

She tried to break the awkward tension by asking a question about some of his equipment—one of his toys as Specs had called it—but all she got in response was a split-second look her way from across the room and a matter-of-fact, grumbled answer.

She felt like such a nuisance. Why, why did she have to say what she’d said? Why couldn’t he have walked over just a few seconds later? She’d never wanted to make him uncomfortable, or make him think she’d deluded herself into thinking anything would happen between them. God, she probably sounded like some kind of stalker-fan.

Specs and Natalie kept the night from falling into one long, awkward silence, something Caitlin was extremely grateful for. The two of them were getting on great, and Steven seemed thrilled every time he got to answer one of Natalie’s inquiries about his job, the case, or the history of the house. He seemed more focused on her than the investigation.

When the night was over, all Cait could manage was a weak smile as Specs and Tucker finished loading up the van. Natalie and Specs were wrapping up a long convo—Cait would ask for all the details later. Right then, she just wanted to get out of there.

“Um, I’m gonna go warm up the car,” she interjected, gesturing to the vehicle parked down the long driveway. “Thanks,” she said, reaching out to shake Specs’s hand. “This was cool.”

He took it earnestly with a single shake, telling her it was their pleasure. “Sorry we didn’t have any sightings tonight.” He turned back to Natalie. “But I’ll be in touch as soon as we review the footage.”

Caitlin offered her hand to Tucker, because it would’ve seemed rude not to, though she really just wanted to hurry back to the car and try to forget the whole thing. She looked up to meet his eyes, and found nothing but the same unreadable gaze he’d been wearing all night. “Uh, thanks again. I appreciate you guys letting me tag along.”

His hand found hers, and she fought not to let her breath catch at the warmth of it, the way her hand felt so small in his, the fuzzy feeling that fell over her whole body.

“Yeah.” His response was simple and gruff, bringing her right back down to earth.

She took her hand from his and tried to suppress her embarrassment for the millionth time. 

The events had just kept repeating in her mind since that night. Even now at work, reorganizing the bin of clearance CDs, she could hardly focus. Specs had emailed Natalie the next day, saying nothing exciting had shown up in the footage, but that they all should do it again sometime. 

Cait gave some excuse about her work schedule being too chaotic the next few weeks—she knew Nat saw straight through it. She’d tried her best to cheer her up from her moping, insisting that she saw Tucker looking at her throughout the night. But Cait hadn’t expected Tucker to be interested in her before, and she certainly couldn’t believe he would be now.

What Cait didn’t know was that Tucker was interested. Beyond interested. He’d been interested ever since he and Specs had met Natalie at the comic shop and she’d mentioned that her friend would be excited to meet him. He thought maybe she’d been insinuating something along the lines of attraction. Then he’d met Caitie and hoped to God that’s what she’d been insinuating. 

She was pretty. She was sweet. Hell, she even smelled sweet, better than the little snack cake he was eating. When she shook his hand hello and looked up at him with those kind brown eyes, he felt a surge of confidence—he wouldn’t blow this. If he had a chance with her, he wasn’t about to screw it up.

Then he’d overheard her confession to Natalie. Like meeting her celebrity crush. She wasn’t just maybe a little interested in him… she really had a thing for him. It should’ve made him ecstatic… but what if he didn’t live up to whatever she thought he’d be like in person? What if he said the wrong thing and made her reevaluate, what if spending time with him made her realize she was completely out of his league? What if he came off a lot cooler in the videos, what if he looked better on camera? What if they had nothing in common? What if he couldn’t think of anything funny to say?

The confidence disappeared in an instant. Too worried about saying the wrong thing, he barely said anything all night. He was so self-conscious he could hardly look at her, let alone talk to her.

When the night was over and she’d said goodbye, he felt… well, he wasn’t sure, exactly. He hadn’t been suave or smooth like he’d hoped, but at least he didn’t embarrass himself. Given how chatty Specs and Natalie had been, he was sure it wasn’t the last time he’d get to see Cait—they could all hang out again sometime, he thought. 

That was, until Specs got in the passenger's seat of the van as Cait and Natalie drove away.

“What is your problem?” Specs asked, buckling up.

Tucker raised an eyebrow, his lip curling at the unexpected attitude. “What?”

Specs huffed, as if it was obvious. “If you don’t wanna make friends with them, that’s none of my business. But they’re, like, fans of ours. Is it too much to ask for you to act professional?”

Tucker could only scoff, moving his hands out in a gesture of what the fuck are you talking about? “Name one thing I did that was unprofessional.”

“Uh, the entire thing. You were acting like you’d rather’ve been at jury duty, Tucker.” Specs shook his head as Tucker started backing out of the driveway. “Like the whole thing was some kind of inconvenience. If you didn’t want to do it, you should’ve just told me—I could’ve gone solo.”

“You don’t even know how to use half that stuff,” Tucker grumbled under his breath. Had he really seemed so uninterested?

“It’s too bad, really.” Specs’ voice lost its hostility as he relaxed against his seat. “I was hoping she’d be your type.”

“What?”

“I mean…” Specs shrugged. “If Natalie and I ever… If we ever became… involved… I guess I just mean it would’ve been convenient if you’d been interested in Caitlin. We’re friends, they’re friends. Makes things simple.”

Tucker stopped at a red light and glared over at Specs. His interest in Natalie wasn’t the bombshell he seemed to think it might be—it’d been obvious since they’d met her. What tripped Tucker up was the way his own best friend had completely misread him. If he thought that… what must Cait have thought? 

“I never said I wasn’t interested.”

Specs turned to him with a laugh, which quickly fell into a look of stupefaction. “You’re serious.” He blinked a few times before his expression changed to one of understanding, then pity. “Tucker.”

Tucker’s heart sank. Had it really been that bad? He tried to convince himself it wasn’t, that Specs was exaggerating. He’d been too focused on Natalie to be paying much attention to anything else, anyway. That was it.

A few days later, he came up to Specs as he was sitting at his laptop to ask if he’d set anything up yet for them all to hang out again, maybe do another investigation together. Specs grimaced, and explained in the gentlest way he could: Natalie was down for another hunt together. Caitlin…

“Says she’s too busy,” Specs said, not sounding like he believed it. 

Incredible, Tucker thought. For once in his life he’d had a chance with a woman—a woman who was nice, who was cute, who found his work interesting, who’d been wearing the t-shirt of a band he loved, who was attracted to him… and he managed to throw it away in a few hours. 

He sighed, doing his best to keep a poker face, though he was sure Specs saw right through it. Who wouldn’t be disappointed?

“Uh, our new business cards are ready,” Specs said, trying to cheer him up. “The printer called while you were in the shower.”

“I’ll pick ‘em up.” He tried not to sound so depressed, but his voice came out gruff and unexcited anyway. “What’d’you want for lunch?”

“Oh!” Specs perked up, jotting something down on his notepad before ripping off the page and handing it to Tucker. “It’s a new sandwich place Natalie told me about. Thought you might be interested. I'll look up the menu and text you what I want.”

Tucker grumbled out an agreement, tucking the paper into his pocket and heading to the front door.

Unfortunately, the mindless errand didn't do much to cheer him up, even if the business cards did look great. As he parked in an area of town he wasn't too familiar with, he hoped this new sandwich place was good—good enough to take his mind off things.

Walking up to the restaurant, he passed by a second hand CD store. He'd have to stop by sometime when he wasn’t so bummed out. Looking through the window, he could see they also had a small selection of tapes in the back, a large area for records, and rows and rows of neatly organized CDs. Closer to the door there was a bin with a large clearance sign over it, and a tall brunette who was sifting through it. Great, just another reminder of—

He felt himself freeze as she turned, her long waves moving out of her face as she continued to browse. It was Caitlin.

He swore under his breath, turning away, stepping out of the view of the window and running a hand over his hair. Shit, his hair— he hadn’t even done his mohawk before leaving the house. He wasn’t ready, hadn’t prepared himself, had resigned himself to the idea that he’d never see her again. 

He couldn’t go in there. But if he didn’t… if he didn’t, what if he really never did get to see her again? What if this was his last chance?

He rolled his shoulders back, clearing his throat and straightening out his t-shirt. He’d just go in there and talk to her. Like a normal person. 

The bell above the door jingled as he entered the store—apart from Cait, there was only an employee behind the counter and a few teenagers looking at the records in the corner. 

“Hi, welcome to CD Sanctuary! Is there—” Caitie’s greeting stopped short as she looked up from the bin and met Tucker’s eyes. She paused for a second, her voice much softer when she spoke again. “Hi.”

God, she looked good in the daylight, he thought, taking her in. She was wearing a black camisole, camouflage cargo pants that sat low on her hips, and a roughed up pair of Chucks. Despite the simple outfit, somehow he’d never seen anyone look better in anything.

“Hi,” he managed, feeling stupid as he realized she wasn't shopping, she was working. This was a bad idea. He shouldn’t have come in.

“I… um…” She shook her head, laughing quietly. “Sorry. Are you looking for something specific?”

He felt his stomach drop a little as she picked up with her employee greeting. “No, I… I just came in ‘cause… ‘cause I saw you.”

“...You did?”

The baffled surprise in her voice told him Specs was right, as much as he hated to admit it. He really must’ve been giving the completely wrong signals that night. 

“I, uh… I thought maybe we could talk.”

Caitie shot a glance over to the register, raising her voice a little. “Sure, I can help you find that!” She nodded for Tucker to follow her into one of the aisles of CDs, giving him an apologetic look as she lowered her voice again. “Sorry. My boss. He’s a little strict.”

“I don’t wanna get you in trouble,” he murmured, gesturing towards the door. “I can go—”

“Don’t.” She shook her head, stopping in front of a section that spanned from Rage Against the Machine to Red Hot Chili Peppers. She pretended to rifle through one of the rows. “It’s—I… I’ve been wanting to talk to you, actually. I mean, to apologize.”

His brows furrowed as he looked down at her. He could smell the same sweet, fruity perfume she’d been wearing the night they met, and had to resist the overwhelming urge to lean down and bury his nose against her neck. “Apologize?” 

She looked up at him briefly before her gaze returned to the CDs. “Yeah. Um… I’m really sorry for the other night. I didn’t mean for you to overhear… what you heard. I know you probably must think I’m some kind of creep. And I know it weirded you out, and I just…” She shook her head. “I’m just sorry.”

“I wasn’t weirded out.”

She finally looked up at him and held his gaze, her eyes filled with confusion.

“I was…” The admission was hard to get out. “Nervous.”

“Nervous?” she repeated quietly, like she wasn't sure if it was good or bad.

“Nervous… that you might, uh, not like me as much in person. Nervous because…” He shrugged, smiling a little. What did he have to lose? “Because I would've been nervous around you whether I heard you say that or not.”

Was he getting his point across? Where was the line drawn between subtlety and failure to communicate? Hell if he knew.

But when he saw her cheeks flush red, he knew she understood: this wasn't a one-sided attraction. 

“Oh,” was all she said in reply, her face glowing warmer as she smiled.

He couldn't help feeling a surge of pride. He was responsible for that smile, that pretty blush.

“I thought, maybe, y'know, if you're not too busy, we could… have dinner, or lunch, or breakfast, or coffee, or something… together. Sometime. As a date.” He was sure he sounded like an idiot, barely able to think straight, but she was still smiling. What else mattered?

She bounced a little on her heels, gently biting her bottom lip, but unable to dim her grin. “I– Yeah, I mean, of course. Yeah. That'd be nice.”

A smile broke out on his face, the warm rush of relief flooding over his body. She said yes. Yes, to a date, with him. It would be the first date of his life. 

Tucker got his phone from his pocket, pulling up his contacts and handing it to her. “We can plan it later, if you want. When your boss isn't watching.”