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Cass's POV
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In that fleeting moment when I first wake up, a wave of contentment washes over me. My body feels relaxed and satisfied, my muscles unwound and my mind clear. Staring up at the white popcorn ceiling, a gentle and involuntary smile tugs at the corners of my lips, feeling content.

But then- the suffocating weight of reality crashes over me.

Faded memories wash over my mind like a freezing tide, tightening my previously relaxed muscles and constricting my lungs. The photo. The motel room. The water, the drugs- the deal, the mutual...

Rick leaving.

In an instant, the smile fades, replaced by snapping shut my eyelids as the staggering weight of regret settles over me.

The mistake. That's what it was.

A sharp exhale echoes from the far side of the room, jolting me from my thoughts. "Look, Gareth, you're my financial advisor, I know it's your job. But I don't give a shit if it's a bad investment move. Get rid of my shares," Rick's voice, though even and controlled, carries a hint of frustration from where I assume must be the desk of the small motel room.

While I'm waging a war internally over my growing feelings and mounting regret, he's managing his finances.

Nice.

After a heavy pause, Rick vents his frustration once more, the sound of shuffling papers punctuating his irritation. "I don't want my name associated with that damn company in any way, regardless of the impact on my fucking stock standing. How difficult is that to understand?" Rick demands, his tone brimming with genuine exasperation.

With a tightness in my chest, I summon the courage to sit up in bed, pulling the thin duvet to my chest to cover my silk top. Despite my attempt at modesty, I can't shake the memory of Rick's intimate gaze from last night- how he saw more, touched more... tasted more.

My gaze darts up to see Rick sitting at the desk, pinching the bridge of his nose as he listens to Gareth. He's dressed in his navy suit that he wore the first time I saw him, just without the suit jacket this time.

My heart aches as I look at him, the glimpse of his exposed neck beneath his unbuttoned collar igniting memories of his sculpted torso from last night- how his hot skin felt beneath my fingertips, how it responded to my touch. My gaze moves to his stubbled jawline and his unruly curls cascading behind his ear and grazing the nape of his neck, begging to be touched.

Longing spurs in my chest, threatening to engulf me as I battle back tears at everything that happened last night. The knowledge that what happened was influenced by drugs hangs heavy, but beneath it all, there's an undeniable truth- I wanted it. My desire wasn't solely fueled by that damn water bottle, though it seems that's not the case for Rick.

Overwhelmed, I steal a glance at the glaring red numbers of the cheap alarm clock beside me, registering that it's 9 a.m. I must have slept longer than usual.

A movement catches my eye, and I turn to find Rick's gaze fixed on me, his eyes widened. My stomach twists as we share a moment of intense but fleeting eye contact, his intense blue eyes gazing into my faded green ones. God, just seeing his face after...

Rick's expression twitches and he mouths "Sorry" motioning to his phone, before swiftly getting up and stepping outside.

I watch him leave, my lips parted, feeling a rush of air fill my lungs as he disappears from view. Swearing softly under my breath, I bury my face in my hands.

Fuck my life.

Around twenty minutes later, I emerge from the bathroom, having swiftly showered in the less-than-ideal tub, applied some makeup, wrestled my hair into some semblance of order, and slipped into my usual knee-length skirt and blouse. Glancing up, I notice Rick has abandoned his phone, now busy packing his laptop into his bag.

My eyes linger on the way his fingers deftly spread the opening of his bag before he slides the device into its designated place, making my chest tighten before I quickly look away.

"Hey," Rick's voice breaks the silence, soft and gentle as I approach to stow my toiletries in my suitcase. My heart stutters as our eyes meet, swiftly looking away.

"I uh, called the tow place. They're sending a truck who'll give us a ride to Kings County," Rick explains, his tone so careful and kind that it makes me want to throttle him.

Taking a deep breath through my nose, I nod, zipping my suitcase shut. "When would we get there?" I ask flatly, not looking up.

"Afternoon. We'll have a few hours before our dinner with Carol," Rick explains, and I refrain from the urge to get further pissed off considering we are so far from where we were supposed to be thanks to his inability to read a goddamn map.

With a sigh, I drag my suitcase off the bed and onto the floor, opting not to dignify Rick's statement with a response. Better to be quiet than fight again.

"D'you want to talk about it-" Rick starts tentatively, his voice trailing off as I cut him off abruptly.

"Talking about it is the absolute last thing I want to do, Grimes. It was a mistake, there's nothing else to say," I snap, the mere thought of revisiting the events of last night sending a jolt of anxiety through me. I'd much rather bury it deep within the recesses of my mind, never to be seen again.

Especially considering that Rick doesn't know the whole truth- that it wasn't just the drugs for me. I'll be damned if I let him find that out to use it against me.

There's a momentary silence, during which I steal a glance and catch Rick's downcast expression. His hand is resting on his belt, his jaw clenched in what seems like genuine discomfort. As if he actually cares.

My heart pangs at the ridiculous idea.

He thinks that we simply did what we both regret under the influence, and I'm upset about it. For me, the longing ran deeper than damn chemical influence. It was merely a catalyst, pushing me to do what I was too afraid to admit to myself.

I lost myself to reckless impulses, allowing emotions I'd long suppressed to seize control. But I've come to terms with it. It's over now, and I just need us to move past it.

My eyes dart back to Rick, his mouth parted and eyebrows drawn together as if he's going to say something. But his silent words are cut off by a deafening honk outside the motel room that makes me flinch.

"Looks like our ride is here," I state, inhaling deeply to steady myself, my grip tightening on my suitcase.

"Cass-"

"Stop," I interject sharply, my heart leaping into my throat, a surge of revulsion twisting my stomach as my eyes flash to his. "Don't call me that."

Don't call me Cass like you did last night. When I let myself pretend you want me.

It hurts too much.

Rick falters, his mouth closed and muscles in his jaw feathering as he averts his gaze with a small nod.

At the second blare of the horn, frustration surges through me, and I curse under my breath. Wrenching open the door of the motel room and pulling my suitcase behind me, I stride towards the waiting rusted tow truck, my emotions roiling beneath the surface.

The drive with our strange tow truck guy, Axel, is far too long and far too excruciating.

I huddle against the window, attempting to lose myself in the details of the case by reading the files again but the memories of last night persist, an unwelcome intrusion that threatens to overwhelm me. Despite my efforts to concentrate, the relentless bumps and jolts of the truck only exacerbate my discomfort.

Eventually, I concede defeat, setting the file aside with a resigned sigh and instead fixating on the passing scenery outside. Clenching my eyes shut, I exhale as I focus on my breathing and not the way Rick was breathing last night.

Not the way his hot breath felt against my skin or how his chest shuddered with heaving breaths as I-

My breath catches sharply in my throat, and I shake my head, willing the blush creeping up my cheeks to dissipate.

Before long, the passing scenery transitions into a quaint little town, and I'm taken aback as I read the sign indicating we've arrived in King County. It's strange that two major industrial corporations have chosen to settle in such a small, picturesque place.

The tow trunk pulls around to the Hilton Rick told me about before, and it seems to be the largest building on the outskirts of this charming little town. I offer a brief word of thanks to the driver before swiftly retrieving my suitcase from the back, ignoring Rick's attempt to assist me.

I don't need his manners born out of a place of pity.

After grabbing our respective and thankfully separate room keys from the front desk, we both head for the elevators to take us to our floor. But being met with the idea of being shut in a small confined space like that with Rick after everything makes me want to throw up on the nice tile we're walking on.

"I, uh, think I'll head to the bar," I mumble, nudging my head toward the small dark bar in the lobby across from the front desk.

Rick turns to me, visibly surprised. "It's 3 pm," he remarks, his brows drawn together with confusion.

I narrow my eyes at him, my jaw clenched with exasperation. "I wasn't asking for your opinion. I'll see you at dinner," I mutter, before turning on my heel and striding over to the bar, my suitcase joining me.

Taking a seat on the nearest barstool beside an older woman with a grey pixie cut, I release a heavy sigh. Glancing over my shoulder, I catch a glimpse of Rick disappearing into the elevator, our gazes briefly locking before the sliding reflective doors obscure him from view.

"What can I get you?" The woman behind the bar interrupts my thoughts, drawing my attention back to the present. I order a light white wine, my voice perhaps sharper than intended.

The brunette bartender offers me a sympathetic smile before turning to pour my drink.

"Tough day?" the grey-haired woman beside me inquires, her piercing blue eyes meeting mine with a gentle curiosity. The creases at the corners of her eyes impart a sense of wisdom that oddly comforts me. Maybe pouring my heart out to a stranger in a bar is just what I need right now.

"Try tough 36 hours," I respond dryly, accepting the glass of wine with a murmured thanks and taking a long sip.

"Sounds like you need that drink,"  the woman comments, a hint of amusement in her voice. I chuckle bitterly, my gaze fixed on the pale yellow liquid swirling in the small wineglass, familiar waves of regret and embarrassment washing over me.

With a heavy sigh, I turn back to the woman. "You could say that. It's the only thing that could possibly salvage this mess of a human being," I agree sarcastically, my mouth pressed into a tight line and cheeks burning with self-hatred.

The woman grins, raising her whiskey glass in a silent toast. "That makes two of us," she says, her voice dry yet filled with understanding. I can't help but grin in return as we clink our glasses together.

As the afternoon progresses and a few glasses later, laughter spills from my lips as I clutch onto the stranger's shoulder, shaking my head in disbelief. "And after that bitch, we had to go to a disgusting motel and share a room!" I exclaim with horror, earning a laugh from the woman beside me.

The alcohol courses through my veins, numbing the edges of my thoughts as I take another sip from my wine glass.

Lowering my glass, my lingering laughter turns nearly as bitter as the shitty sauvignon blanc I'm drinking. "And after spilling out all my trauma about my abusive ex, he and I practically slept together. Can you believe the fucking idiot I am?" I demand breathlessly, shaking my head and struggling to contain the tears threatening to spill as I turn to the woman whose name I don't even know.

Her mouth parts slightly as she listens intently, setting down her glass on the countertop.

My stomach twists with unease. "I don't even know why I'm telling you this. God, what is going on with me?" I mutter to myself, running a hand through my hair before covering my mouth as if to stifle any further rambling to this unwitting stranger.

"No, I understand. About the ex at least. I know what that's like," The woman responds quietly, causing me to pause, slowly lifting my gaze to meet her sincere eyes. "The power he holds over you. The power and the fear. Sharing that with your coworker was intimate. More intimate than any sex could ever be," she says wisely, making my brows knit together with fierce emotion.

Swallowing hard to suppress the lump in my throat at the unexpected depth of understanding from this stranger, I nod in agreement. "You understand," I murmur quietly, my words slightly slurred from the alcohol's effects.

"I do. Keep your chin up. you've made it this far." She murmurs, her words a soothing balm to my troubled soul, eliciting a slight smile.

"Now if only I hadn't fooled around with my work enemy, huh?" I comment with a snort, attempting to inject a bit of lightness into the heavy atmosphere, which earns a grin from the stranger.

"Yeah... that's probably not healthy in literally any fucking way," she jokes, her dry humor prompting a snort from me, and I can't help but notice the faint smirk playing at the corners of her lips.

I glance at the ornate clock above the bar and groan, my laughs fading quickly. "I have to be at a dinner meeting soon. Damn it," I curse, rubbing my temples and signaling the bartender to close my tab.

"A dinner meeting?" the grey-haired stranger asks from beside me as I hastily sign the tab, her curiosity piqued.

I nod, ensuring to leave a generous tip before sliding the receipt back to the bartender. "Yep. He and I have to meet with our client to discuss her case and determine who's better suited for the final argument in court," I explain, offering a grateful smile to the bartender before turning to the stranger.

The woman looks at me for a moment, a slight smile tugging at her lips. "Is that right?" she asks curiously, and I nod as I carefully get down from the barstool to grab my bag.

"Mmhm. Thank you for- listening to my rambling and... understanding," I express sincerely, feeling a sense of gratitude toward this stranger.

"It was nice," she says kindly, probably relieved that I'm no longer going to be burdening her with spilling out my entire soul.

_______

Rick's POV - last night.
_______

My hands dig into my forehead, the heels of my palms pressing against my skin as I grapple with the whirlwind of emotions crashing over me.

Despite the overwhelming pleasure of finally doing what I've been dreaming of for weeks, a fierce guilt gnaws at my stomach, feeling like the biggest asshole on the goddamn planet.

I should've told her before—

I shouldn't have let it happen but fuck- how could I have had the strength to say no?

You fucking idiot.

The door to the bathroom clicks open, and I look up, my heart pounding in my chest as Cass walks back into the room. Her expression is stoic, unreadable.

"Cass-" I begin desperately, knowing I have to tell her before it's too late, but she cuts me off.

"Goodnight Grimes," Cass responds, those two words spoken with a flat finality makes my heart sink.

'Grimes.'

She regrets it. Fuck.

The room is shrouded in darkness as Cass flicks off her lamp, rolling over in the bed. Part of me screams to climb into bed with her, to force her to talk and hold her close to comfort her clear upset feelings, but the more rational part of me knows there's no way I can do that. She doesn't want to talk about it.

Like she said- it's just a business deal.

And there's nothing worse than an annoying client who keeps pushing for conversation after the deal is done.

Sighing heavily, I slip on my shoes and quietly step out of the room, the door closing softly behind me. The desolate parking lot is illuminated by the glow of street lamps, casting shadows across the asphalt.

Leaning against the motel wall, I exhale a long breath, gazing up at the starry sky in search of comfort.

The sight triggers memories of my childhood here in Georgia, nights spent on the farm with Louise, sneaking out to the barn to gaze at the stars before Dad burned it down.

We'd invent names for the constellations, creating stories about them until our laughter cramped our stomachs and filled the air, a distant echo of simpler times.

A fleeting smile touches my lips as I cross my arms over my chest.

If only things were so simple now.

Closing my eyes with a cringe, I exhale sharply, self-loathing suffocating me.

You coward.

- present -

I inhale deeply, feeling the weight of the situation I got myself in as I pivot and stride down the hallway away from the elevators. My heart pounds, knowing I need to find Cass before dinner and confront her about last night.

I have to muster the courage to tell her all of it. No matter what it'll do our strained relationship or to the remaining dregs of my pride, I have to. Its the right thing.

The echo of my footsteps reverberates in the empty lobby hallway, stark in contrast to the chaos of turmoil within me.

Letting out a steady exhale, I steel myself to tell her that last night, I took advantage of her. That, like a miserable piece of shit, I couldn't fight my desire for her despite having not drunk a damn drop of that drugged water.

But will telling her the truth just drive her further away?

Doubt gnaws at me considering the way she's treated me since. Ignoring my attempts at talking and her clipped responses is all I need to understand that she's upset. Rightfully so, despite her not knowing the entire situation.

But despite this, I brace myself for her rejection, knowing it's what I deserve at this point. For what I let happen.

Vivid memories of last night suddenly assault my senses, relentless and unyielding. I pause abruptly, mid-stride, my jaw clenched tight in frustration as the haunting images refuse to fade, my hands culred into tight fists at my sides.

In the recesses of my mind, Cass's heavy breathing echoes, a reminder of our shared intimacy. I can still feel the warmth of her skin under my touch, the taste of her lingering on my tongue. Flashes of her head thrown back in pleasure, her expression etched with desire, momentarily paralyze me.

With a deliberate exhale, I attempt to regain control, fixing my gaze on the polished tile beneath my shoes, willing myself to rein it all in.

The ding of the elevator interrupts my internal struggle, drawing my attention upward. My eyes widen as the doors slide open, revealing Cass standing in front of me, her posture tense, arms crossed over her work-appropriate dress, her expression stoic as her eyes meet mine. I see a flash of that regret I've noticed all day within those beautiful green irises, making my heart sink.

She regrets it and doesn't even know everything.

She deserves the truth.

"Dinner, Grimes?" Cass asks me flatly, but I can't help but notice her slight unsteadiness, a flicker of concern stirring within me.

"Yeah. Are you okay?" I ask, the question spilling out instinctively, my gaze quickly flitting up and down her frame, wondering if she had a drink too many.

Cass exhales heavily as she steps out of the elevator, her movements abrupt as she brushes past me, our brief contact sending a shiver down my spine. Her words, tinged with frustration, land like a weight on my chest. "I'm sick of you being nice to me. It's fuckin' weird," she mutters, the edges of her speech slightly slurred.

Before I can fully process her words or what I'm doing, my hand darts out on its own accord, grasping her elbow to stop her.

A small gasp escapes Cass's lips as I hold her back, her head turning to mine, her eyes wide. I stare down at the connection of my hand curling around the soft skin of her elbow. The sensation of her warmth beneath my singers sparking a bizarre sense of deja vu, despite the fact I've never grabbed her elbow like this before.

"Are you drunk?" I blurt out, a note of disbelief creeping into my voice as I examine her with surprise.

Cass's expression quickly shifts, her features hardening in response to my question. "Are you dunk?" she fires back, a hint of satisfaction evident in the quirk of her eyebrows, as if she 'got me'.

"Jesus Christ. You can't meet Carol like this," I mutter under my breath, concern knitting my brows as I tighten my grip on her elbow, sensing her resistance.

She groans as she struggles against my stronger grip. "You don't control me, as much as I'm sure you w-would like to. We already canceled and rescheduled this damn thing three times. We have to meet her," Cass mumbles defiantly, shaking her head with stubborn resolve. Despite the frustration coursing through me, I can't help but admire her unwavering determination.

"Ca- Adams. Look at me," I murmur softly, my tone firm yet gentle, willing her to pause in her struggle. Cass complies begrudgingly, her gaze meeting mine with a sassiness that threatens to crack my resolve.

She huffs, her cheeks flushed with a rosy hue from the effects of alcohol, her green eyes slightly glazed but still retaining their piercing intensity.

Pretending to be examining her, I duck down slightly so we're eye-to-eye, squinting my gaze as it drags over her features. From her captivating green eyes that I wish would gaze into mine like they did last night, to the delicate curve of her nose and the faint freckles hidden beneath her makeup, to that mouth.

And that's where I make the mistake.

My breath catches in my throat as my gaze lingers on her lips, a surge of desire coursing through me as memories of that mouth from last night flood my mind. Lips that had tasted mine, lips that had been wrapped around me, lips that had whispered vulnerabilites in the darkness of the night.

Like being hit by a truck, I abruptly realize the depth of my feelings for her, the forbidden desire that threatens to consume me. With a sharp inhale, I release her abruptly, my eyes squeezing shut in a futile attempt to quell the turmoil raging within

"Fine. Let's go," I concede quickly, knowing the faster we get this over with, the faster we can return to New York and I can get back to my normal life. A life where I can attempt to bury these unsettling emotions and move on from the tangled web of mistakes I've woven with Cass.

"Finally," Cass huffs dramically, brushing past me once again to lead the way to the hotel restaurant. I follow, trying to shake off not only the tumultuous feelings Cass elicits within me but also the feeling of being back here again.

I hadn't been back since Lori, Carl, and I moved to New York a decade ago. The memories flood back, each one a bittersweet reminder of my life a long time ago, a life I was forced to leave behind.

Too consumed with thoughts of my past, I accidentally bump into Cass, making me stumble back in surprise. Withdrawing my hands that instinctively reached for her waist, I look down at her, wondering why she's stopped in the doorway of the restaurant.

"Shit." Cass curses under her breath her horror evident as she looks into the dimly lit restaurant.

"What?" I question, following her gaze to a table for four with one woman already sitting down, reading the menu. She has to be Carol as she's the only woman sitting alone and waiting.

"It's fine, come on," I urge Cass gently, leading the way, hearing her let out a small sound of what seems to be frustration as I she follows me. "Carol Peleiter?" I ask as I reach the table, making the short-haired woman look up, a broad smile pulling across her face.

"That's me," Carol beams before glancing beside me, where Cass is now standing. Sensing some tension, I glance between them, noticing Cass's slight wince in her expression.

Deciding to brush past it, I pull out one of the chairs for Cass, making her pause, her eyes flashing to mine before she sighs and takes the seat. After ensuring her comfort, I settle into my chair, clearing my throat to address Carol.

"Mrs. Peleiter, I have to apologize for-"

"Carol. Call me Carol," she interrupts me, making me nod with a slight smile.

"Carol, I'm sorry we had to reschedule this so many times. I hope it doesn't reflect poorly on us or the firm, some... unprecedented circumstances delayed our arrival," I explain delicately, hoping we haven't lost a client because I'm too damn enamored by my coworker to properly read a map.

Carol looks at me for a moment, her penetrating blue eyes locking onto mine before shifting to Cass, who remains absorbed in her menu.

"I understand. I've heard of some... interesting things happening around these parts. I'm just glad you're here now," Carol says, making a smile of relief break across my face.

The rest of the dinner passes without incident, thankfully. We're able to discuss Carol's case and explain the legality of the situation, especially what Smith is doing with his lawyers. Eventually, Cass seems to warm up to Carol and open up, not seeming close to being drunk as she switches into her professional facade.

The evening winds down with a relaxed conversation, and I find myself explaining to Carol, thanks to a few drinks, the reasons behind our delayed arrival. She appears genuinely interested, prompting me to share the details, albeit skimming over the more... intimate parts of our recent experiences. Carol listens with amusement, her eyes twinkling mischievously above her whiskey glass while Cass remains more than happy to let me explain.

When we're done, I shake Carol's hand, assuring her to contact us if she has any further questions.

Cass and I actually manage to go to our respective rooms this time as the night comes to an end. Though with the distractions of the night now gone in a painfully quiet hotel room, I'm left alone with my wandering thoughts, staring up at the blank ceiling.

... sleep doesn't exactly come easy.

______

Cass's POV
______

Rick and I meet again with Carol briefly the next morning to go over any remaining questions she has about the firm or the case before we fly back to NYC. At the end, Rick nods at Carol, before letting me know he's grabbing the new rental car from downstairs.

As Rick disappears around the corner, I turn back to Carol with a sheepish smile, scratching my arm absentmindedly. "I am so sorry about last night- the bar- it was ridiculous-"

Carol grins, giving my shoulder a playful pat.  "Believe me, I've heard worse," she reassures me dryly, but I still cringe, easily done with the added discomfort of my pounding headache. "And it's actually made me like you," she adds, making my head snap up to hers, blinking with surprise.

"You can't be serious," I scoff, a hint of disbelief in my voice, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth.

Carol grabs her purse from the chair she's just gotten up from, slinging it on her shoulder. "Dead serious," she affirms with a wink before turning and striding out of the glass-walled conference room.

Smiling to myself, I look down as I get up from my chair, busying myself with my bag.

"Oh, and Cass?" Carol asks from the doorway, making me look up in surprise. "Doin' all that with Rick? Nice," she grins mischievously before returning and exiting, leaving me momentarily stunned, staring after her with wide eyes.

Luckily the direct route back to Atlanta is much quicker than the scenic route Rick took us down last time. We arrived at the airport in just a couple of hours, perfectly timed for our flight.

As the plane begins its ascent, heading north towards New York, I find myself gazing out the window, pretending like I'm not overly aware of Rick sitting right next to me. Pretending as if I'm not affected by our proximity and pretending like I don't know exactly how his mouth feels as he-

"Adams, we need to talk about what happened the other night," Rick begins, his voice hushed as he leans in slightly. His verbal reminder of what I can't stop thinking about makes me stiffen, my jaw clenching in a futile attempt to force myself to calm down.

Turning to him, I meet Rick with a steely glare. "What happened to the part of the deal where we never have to talk about it again?" I challenge, my brows knitted together and the corners of my mouth downturned.

Rick tilts his head to the side with exasperation as he lets out a sigh. "We can't ignore it forever. I can't... we have to-" he mutters, his frustration triggering a surge of irritation within me, prompting me to cut him off.

"-Want to know the exciting thing about free will? You don't really have to do anything!" I interject snarkily, raising my eyebrows at him once before I bring my water back to my lips and glance out the window, surprise darting through me at the distant storm brewing beyond the thick acrylic of the window.

"You're insufferable," Rick mutters under his breath. Because I'm staring out at the dark clouds I'm hoping the plane will avoid, I can't see his face but I sense a smile in his voice.

"And you're a pain in my ass," I retort dryly, refusing to look over as he so clearly wants me to.

"I don't know if I went anywhere near your ass-"

"Grimes," I grit out with aggressive warning, my eyes wide as I whip my head in his direction. Only to find Rick looking down, a smirk curling his lips.

"Dick," I huff, shaking my head in frustration although my heart has quickened its pace.

Before Rick can come up with a cocky response that I know is coming- "Don't you dare," I warn lowly, only eliciting a snort from him that definitely does not slightly chip away at my steely resolve.

It does send some strange relief through me though. Maybe things can go back to some semblance of normalcy between us. Dealing with cocky Rick is far easier than the Rick who consumes my thoughts and ripped out my heart two nights ago.

There's a distant and yet somehow deafening boom of thunder that makes me flinch harshly so my elbow smacks against the hard armrest. Our plane suddenly lurches with abrupt and aggressive turbulence that has the rest of the passengers crying out and my stomach dropping.

Panic shoots through my immediately tensed body, my hand instinctively seeking refuge in the warmth of Rick's forearm, clinging to him desperately. My heart rate skyrockets, each beat a dull thud in my chest as I watch the dark clouds swirl outside with horror, raindrops battering against the window.

The pilot makes some vague announcement over the cracking intercom that I don't seem able to hear over the pounding of my heart and the roar of the thunder around us. Still gripping Rick for dear life, my mind is racing and my chest heaving with panic, lost in the chaos of my thoughts.

When I glance over at Rick, he seems weirdly unaffected by the horrifying turbulence and the fact we're about a second away from dying, he's simply watching me with concern.

Fucking freak.

Abruptly, Rick pulls off my trembling hand from the iron grip I've maintained on his forearm, making my heart sink with disappointment. Despite the pang of hurt, I understand him wanting to get rid of my suffocating hold.

But then a wave of relief washes over me, my chest shuddering as Rick replaces his forearm with his hand, interlocking our fingers. My eyes flutter closed as I clutch onto his warm hand as if my life depends on it, a strange sense of security washing over me at his touch.

Embarrassment floods my senses, my cheeks burning with shame at my vulnerability. After needing this on our last flight as well, I can't help but feel like a burden, like a child incapable of traveling like an adult without Rick there to comfort me. The realization gnaws at me, threatening to erode what little self-confidence I have left.

Usually, it's just take off and landing that gets me, but usually, I'm not flying through the largest storm I've ever fucking seen.

"Did you know," Rick murmurs beside my ear, his calm voice a refuge among the storm raging around us, "that the first time I met Glenn, he called me a dumbass?" he asks, the strangeness of his words catching me off guard. With my brows furrowed in confusion, I look over as my attention is drawn away from the storm.

Rick grins fondly, at the memory I'm sure. "It was before we met at the office- the morning of his first day. I was in a bad mood for several reasons, one of which was that I was struggling to parallel park my car thanks to the massive truck in front of me. And I may have tapped Glenn's bicycle with my car, and may have completely smashed one of his tires rendering it unridable. Not my finest moment," Rick admits with a slight cringe, his honesty startlingly endearing.

With my heart still racing unpleasantly in my chest, I watch Rick, holding onto each word, the task becoming a distraction from the looming threat outside.

"He had every right to be angry," Rick continues, his expression softening with fondness. "Called me a dumbass without hesitation. Then twenty minutes later, he's introduced to his new boss- me," he adds, a wry tilt to his head as he meets my gaze.

In the dim glow of the plane's ambient lighting, I study Rick's features, clinging to his words like lifelines in the darkness of the storm.

"And no, he didn't go back on his word or apologize," Rick adds with a fond grin, "he just told me that 'like a 16-year-old girl' I needed driving lessons," he breathes with a slight chuckle that tightens my heart and coaxes a faint smile to my lips despite the lingering unease.

As Rick turns to me, a contemplative expression settles over his features. "That's when I knew that he'd be able to handle being my associate unlike the others before him," he murmurs with a smirk, his blue gaze softening as it meets mine. "And I could mold him into being the second-best closer in New York," he adds, his thumb tracing soothing circles over the palm of my hand, easing the tension radiating off me.

I swallow hard, willing myself to push past the suffocating fear constricting my chest and the pleasure tingling up my arm at Rick's comforting touch. "The second best, because no one can beat the very best and extremely talented top closer Rick Grimes, right?" I tease, my voice coming out trembling and weak.

Rick's smile lingers as he looks at me for a moment, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes before he averts his gaze, not answering my question.

Feeling slightly better after his story distracted, I glance down at our interlocked fingers, my stomach twisting at the sight. How the skin around my claw-like grip on him is turning white, making guilt wash over me.

Another tremor of turbulence rattles through the aircraft, jolting me back to the present with a sharp gasp. My muscles tense involuntarily, my grip on Rick tightening reflexively as panic threatens to consume me.

I cringe, knowing his hand must be going numb at this point. "I-I'm sorry," I whisper hoarsely, nudging my head at his hand trapped in my damn gargoyle grip.

Rick meets my eyes with a steady, reassuring look, his gaze scanning my face with a silent understanding. "Don't apologize. At least not to me," he murmurs quietly, his words laden with a depth I can't quite decipher, leaving me confused.

Unexpectedly, the aircraft groans and shudders, sending a surge of terror coursing through me, my heart hammering against my ribs with frantic intensity. I brace myself for the worst, the world outside swallowed by the ominous darkness of the storm.

"Hey, it's okay, we're just landing," Rick tells me, his voice soft and soothing, somehow easing my fear. Despite the darkness enveloping us, I just barely catch a glimpse outside the window, my eyes locking onto the faint glow of runway lights and the comforting sight of the lit-up airport beyond.

A shuddering breath escapes my lips, relief flooding through me as I slump back against the plush seat, the tension draining from my muscles.

It's over.

"Thank god," I murmur under my breath, my fingers quickly releasing their hold on Rick's hand, embarrassment overtaking the remnants of fear that still linger within me. I lack the strength to look back at Rick after that.

As our plane taxis towards the gate, I find myself lost in a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. On one hand, I'm grateful for the end to this fucking brutal trip that has literally almost killed me. On the other, I dread the idea of having to be with Rick for another moment longer, the weight of our strained relationship pressing down on me like a suffocating blanket.

He's seen far too much vulnerability than I would have ever wanted him to see in the past two days than anyone else has seen before. And he's my goddamn competition. That also lives across the hall from me.

God, I'm never going to be able to escape him.

Following deboarding, Rick and I make our way through the airport, and I find myself dreading the idea of sharing a car ride into the city. I'm so close to being freed from this forced proximity with him, but the idea of sitting for forty more minutes in agonizing and humiliating silence makes me want to slam my head into a hard surface. Preferably the concrete pillar I just walked past.

"Alright, the firm is sending a car for us..." Rick begins, his voice trailing off as we step through the automatic doors into the unforgiving downpour outside, the shelter of the entrance providing a brief respite from the relentless rain. The sight of rain-drenched streets and a line of yellow taxis stretching into the distance makes me inhale sharply, a beacon of hope of escape from this suffocating proximity.

My bright yellow and undoubtedly cigarette-stenched ticket to freedom.

"I'll see you at the office," I mutter to Rick hastily, determination driving my steps as I dart through the exit, the wheels of my suitcase clattering against the slick pavement in my rush to break free from the man Fate has handcuffed me to.

Ignoring his calls behind me, I burst into the downpour, raindrops pelting down on me relentlessly. I dash towards the nearest taxi, my chest heaving with exertion as I wrench open the door, already soaked to the bone after mere seconds.

"Hey! Can I share this taxi? I'll pay double!" I pant, my voice echoing over the drumming of rain against the car roof, my gaze darting between the imposing figure of the burly ginger taxi driver and the startled man occupying the backseat.

"Sure Darlin', get in," the taxi driver confirms with a nod, his response eliciting a relieved grin from me. Without hesitation, I scramble into the taxi, shoving my suitcase behind me and slamming the door shut.

As the taxi peels away from the airport curb, I steal a glance back, catching sight of Rick standing under the cover of the entrance, rain gathering in his curls, watching me leave, his chest heaving. My heart somersaults, a mixture of emotions swirling within me as I tear my gaze away and face forward.

Wiping the rain from my face and taking a deep breath, I steel myself for the reality of having just jumped into a stranger's taxi, my eyes darting briefly to the well-dressed man beside me. He seems preoccupied, fidgeting with something in my peripheral vision, but the reassurance of his attire offers a small measure of comfort amidst the uncertainty of the situation.

I face forward with a thick swallow, staring at the taxi's windshield wipers struggling to keep up with the downpour. Hopefully, Rick gets back okay.

"Nice to meet you too," my taxi mate's voice interrupts my thoughts, prompting me to turn towards him with a nervous smile, meeting his dark brown eyes that twinkle with amusement.

I swallow, realizing the man is quite attractive with his nicely styled straight brown hair and sharp all-black suit. His mouth is pulled at the corner in an amused smirk that has my heart fluttering.

My mouth parts, willing myself not to blush. "Hi, sorry about that. Was trying to avoid my coworker," I breathe with a slight chuckle, the rapid thud of my heart still echoing in my ears.

The man's grin widens, a glint of camaraderie shining in his gaze as he reclines against the seat. "I get it," he replies with a nod, his relaxed demeanor putting me at ease.

"What's your name? We're going to be stuck together for about an hour by the looks of the traffic, we may as well get to know one another," he suggests, his eyes lingering on me in a way that sends a subtle flush creeping up my cheeks.

"Cass," I reply with a nod, tearing my gaze away from his to glance ahead at our silent driver, whose intense blue eyes remain fixed on the road before briefly meeting mine in the rearview mirror. When I return my attention to the man beside me, I catch the subtle movement in my periphery as he extends his hand in a friendly gesture, which I take.

The moment I hold his hand in mine, I can't help but think about how different his feels to Rick's.

The man smiles, crinkling the edges at his comforting deep eyes as he shakes my hand.

"Shane."

_______

A/N: heheh