Complicated

Chapter Nine: Tease

So why ya gotta stand there
Looking like the answer now?
It seems to me, you'd come around
I need you now

Do you think you can cope? You figured me out?
That I'm lost and I'm hopeless
I'm bleeding and broken though I've never spoken
I come undone in this mad season

Matchbox Twenty - Mad Season

Don had no idea what time it was, but from the fact his apartment was still in pitch black darkness he assumed it was some obscene time in the morning. He wasn't sure what had woken him, but he could still sense the disturbance lingering in the recesses of his mind. Don lay immobile in the stillness of his bedroom listening to the sounds of the night. There wasn't a single one he didn't recognize...

A creak on the landing outside his bedroom door, made his heart thud faster in his chest followed closely by the sound of the softest footfall. Maybe it was the ten years of NYPD instincts kicking into play or the fact he'd been up for over twenty four hours straight making him abundantly paranoid. Either way he snatched up the service pistol he had placed on the night stand as he bolted upright in bed, both hands were wrapped around the grip as his thumb slipped the safety off.

He watched as the doorknob began twist slowly. He raised his gun up higher, ready and waiting for the kill shot if he had to take it. The door jarred open just a crack. The silhouette of a hand slipped through followed by a rustle as the perp's clothing brushed the door frame before they clicked it shut.

"NYPD Freeze!" Flack screamed into the darkness.

The shadow froze immediately, Don kept his eyes on the perp, his gun trained on their outline as his left hand groped for the bedside lamp.

"You picked the wrong night to screw with me..." he snarled, flicking it on and bathing the room in a dim light.

Grace stood before him, her hands were up by her shoulders showing that she was weapon-less. She stared back at him, grey eyes wide in shock as her breathing came in rapid, quick gasps. Her dark hair was loose and wavy, falling just to her shoulders. She was wearing a white vest with nothing underneath and cute black boy boxers that hugged her ass just right.

"Grace?" he questioned, unable to believe his eyes as a mixture of fear and anger pulsated through him. "Are you trying to get yourself killed?"

Grace screwed up her eyes tightly before forcing herself to exhale deeply. He watched as her diaphragm rose and fell as she absorbed the breath.

"I could have shot you." he snarled, clicking the safety back on. His heart hammering in his chest as he glared at her.

"I am very thankful you didn't." Grace said as she lowered her hands down by her sides.

Don slid his service pistol back onto the night stand before turning his attention on her completely. Don raised his knees so his elbows came to rest on them. The white sheets covered his legs and pooled around his hips as his eyes fastened on her.

"If you've come here for a booty call then you can march your ass straight back out, there isn't a chance in hell I have energy to be your fuck buddy tonight."

"That's not what I came here for." Grace said in a low tone, taking slow steps towards the bed.

"I find that hard to believe." Flack retorted, watching as she drew back the sheets on her side of the bed and slipped underneath.

"Are you trying to make me change my mind?" she snarked back, rolling onto her side so her back was to him.

"Change your mind about what?" he exclaimed indignant. "Every time you end up in my bed your like some college kid who can't keep it in her pants."