Okay. Deep breathing, Tommy. Relax. There's no reason Nolan had to know that you and his daughter (adoptive daughter, technically. Were adoptive fathers any less prone to bloodlust than real ones? Granted, he's Irisa's adoptive father, so he's probably prone to bloodlust either way, but what about bloodlust of the doting, overprotective father type? Had Irisa ever even needed protecting? So many questions, they rattle around in his head like flies.) had frantic, needful and somewhat one-sided sex on the very floor he now stands upon. There's no reason he has to know that his adopted, bloodlust-tastic daughter pushed him up against the bars behind which a criminal now resides.

Nope. No reason at all.

Just keep calm.

Nothing to worry about.

oh holy shtako Nolan's going to kill him.

Tommy will openly admit this to anyone who asks;

He has a sweet tooth. A terrible sweet tooth. Black brew to teeth-rotting coffee ice cream. Sugar and milk packets are his best friend.

Damned if he hadn't had a craving for orange sherbert from the first moment he met her.

"So... want to come over to my place tonight?"

Did that sound casual? Calm? He wipes his hands on the side of his pants, trying to hide the sweaty palms. She senses much where he sees little; can her green eyes detect the change in shadowing on his neck, where his veins pulse? Can she hear the drumbeat in his chest - the optimistic hummingbird that's praying for a three-lettered, one-syllable reply?

"Why? What's there?"

He's so transparent, the hummingbird crashes into the window.

Abandon ship! Calls the pirate captain that lives inside all little boys who dreamed of adventure in a world that still owned seas to sail upon.

He grabs a lifeboat but lingers on deck. Icy cold waters bite at his ankles. Icicles in the air; she generates her own windchill factor. Absolute zero. Liking you is like chaining me to a cannonball and expecting me to float! He wants to tell her. Then she glances up at him again - jade green to dark chocolate - and the words die in his mouth.

His next thought is, I could learn to swim.

I feel like I'm going to be writing Defiance drabbles for the rest of my life.