Monsters of the Week

Together With Qubi - [3] -

We had to clean up another gang-related in the afternoon, and Blair still hadn't sent me anything by the time we got back, so I threw my badge in the night drop and told Ralph to drive himself home. I think he'd mentioned that he had some con or something to go to on his day off, but I didn't really care. I hailed an autocab on my way out, checking my gun in with the armorer by the loading dock, and I didn't get to watch more than a couple minutes of the guys from the secure shredding contractor fighting with one of the cleaning robots over a bin before it pulled up and popped its door. I gave it Ibra's address and settled back as the door closed, my phone dinged with the bill, and the cab rolled off with a hum.

I probably shouldn't be this needy, shouldn't be triggered this bad by just hanging around Blair for more than a chance passing in the canteen, but "should" was different from "is". I had more pressing things to think about than sorting out my own shit; time on my ass on a fucking therapist's couch was time killers and rapists and other lowlifes were walking around free on the streets, or maybe worse, time that Ralph was wandering around unsupervised. I had limited free time, and I'd rather spend it doing something fun, like riding Ibra till he broke, rather than something not fun like whining about my problems to a meatbag Eliza emulator with a head full of their own neuroses they very clearly weren't working through.

This could pose its own problems, though. Last time had been kind of weird, like tended to happen when you hooked up intentionally rather than 'accidentally', when you had to admit that you wanted someone rather than just somebody. Maybe we'd end up having to have that huge awkward weird talk where we decide whether we want to take this seriously, or maybe Ibra would just get sick of my using him for sex and throw me out, but whatever: that wasn't happening tonight. That was off the table, and if he wanted to talk, it would have to wait till tomorrow morning. I bailed out of the cab and punched the elevator up to his floor from the lobby. He'd better have gotten home by now – he was supposed to be off shift, and damned if I was going to hang around waiting outside his door like a low-rent dial-a-slut waiting for him to get in.

I pushed the button on the door and stared at the camera; Ibra lived in a nice new building and had modern conveniences like that, so I didn't have to knock and yell at him to open the door like he'd have to if I ever felt good enough about Ralph's hobbies to invite him (or anybody else) over to my place. The door clicked as the bolts retracted, and when he opened the door I kicked my foot inside the frame, making sure that he couldn't change his mind. He opened it all the way anyway.

I stepped in and wrapped myself around his neck, digging my face into the wet curls behind his ear. He'd just gotten out of the shower and smelled good enough to eat. "Took you long enough, gorgeous."

"You rang the bell like thirty seconds ago. What's gotten into you?" His mouth was being critical, but his hands sure as hell weren't.

"We can talk about why I'm here fucking your brains out after the fucking part's done – and we haven't even started that yet, which is the problem for right now." I slid my hands down his body and yanked the hockey shirt he was using for a pajama top off over his head, threw it, then grabbed for his beltline. His sweatpants had some kind of weird knot in the drawstring – I couldn't pull them down, and if I tried to untie it, I'd probably just lose my patience and rip the cord in half. "What the hell are you doing with clothes on anyway? Actually, fuck, what am I doing with clothes on still?" I stopped and pulled my uniform shirt off and threw it by the door, then unbuckled my pants and let the weight of my service belt drop them to his floor. By then, Ibra had his stupid pants untied, like he should have from the start, and I pushed him in towards the living room. The bed was too far, but a sofa would do just fine to start.