Rules

This time dinner went smoother. Since all of our food was already there we didn't waste time trying to make awkward conversation or getting nibbled on. And Hans paid enough attention to his meal to not be constantly looking at me. I think I may have snuck more looks at him than the other way around, this time. But it was mutual, and whenever Hans caught me at it he just grinned without comment.

I still always blushed and looked away.

When we were done I hastened to clear the dishes because Hans looked like he was about to offer to do it for me. I'm not sure how I would have reacted if I'd been forced to sit and stew in my thoughts while he bustled about around me.

The leftovers disappeared into my fridge, I was going to have to share that veggie platter with Megan, and then I was walking Hans to the door. I stopped in front of it and turned around. I wanted my goodnight kiss, but there was no way I was ready to do anything like that out where people could see.

Hans stopped and smiled. There was a glimmer of amusement in his eye. I think he thought he had me figured out. Hell, maybe he did. I figured he was probably in his thirties, so he had a good decade of life experience on me. And he was a hunky Viking Adonis, so double that for relationships. Maybe he'd made it with a terminally shy psychopath before.

...

That was totally going in my Hans/Salvatore mental slashfic.

Okay, anyway, back in reality. Hans smiled at me, and I folded my arms angrily. "Okay, this is not going to work," I said.

That startled him right out of his complacent amusement. "What?" He asked.

"Yeah, that's what I thought," I said. I had to crane my head back to look up at him, but that didn't stop me from trying to stare him down. "You know I wanted a goodnight kiss, but you were going to wait there and make me ask for it again, huh? No dice. I'm not putting myself through that every single time."

Hans had the decency to look chagrined, which didn't really surprise me at all. I was starting to realize he was way too nice for his own good. Appearances aside, the man was not the romantic lead in a swashbuckling bodice ripper. Which was about as big a shame as it was a relief.

"I see," Hans said slowly, and maybe he did, but I spelled it out anyway.

"Yeah," I said. "Now, I appreciate that you're trying not to push me, but if I'm the only one asking for anything then I'm the only one putting herself out on a limb, and that's just not fair. Plus, we've already established that I don't have a clue what I'm doing, so I probably wouldn't even know what to tell you to do half the time, anyway." More than half, I was sure, unless I started to crib from things Megan had told me or I'd read in naughty manga or online erotica. But I thought I'd let that slide for now. "So here's the new rule: instead of ignoring it if you think I want something, or might want to do something or try something or whatever, just ask, and we'll see."

Was this conversation weird? Was I being too blunt? I didn't know. But Megan had once found out a guy was a foot fetishist within minutes of meeting him. She'd probably used some kind of subtle intuition. But here I'd been sitting with Hans all evening and I still didn't know why he'd asked me out to begin with, let alone why he'd put up with me this long. Subtle intuition wasn't my strong point, so I was going with blunt.

"That certainly seems fair," Hans allowed.

"Good," I said. "And another one, if it's something like the restaurant and I decide to opt out half way through, that's got to be just as good as if I'd said 'no' to begin with." I frowned at him. "Look," I added, "I don't make the rules, I'm just laying them out so you know them. All you have to do is decide if you want to follow them or if I'm not worth it." I wished I had enough hair to flip it or something for punctuation. I put my fist on my hip and waved my other hand dismissively, instead. I'd told him I was difficult. Maybe now he'd realize I meant it. "Whatever," I said.

But Hans just nodded amicably. "All of that is perfectly reasonable," he agreed. "And I would never force someone to carry through with anything against their will."

"Alright," I said. "Okay then."

"Yes," Hans agreed. "Are there any more rules?"

I shook my head. "Not yet," I said. I was feeling a little off balance again. I'd been braced for him to say 'no deal' and leave.

"Then may I kiss you?" Hans asked instead.

I took a deep breath. "Only if you're more enthusiastic about it," I said. Oh God. Did I actually say that? But I had. I fought down a nervous laugh. Either I was riding some kind of bitchy high from having my demands met, or in my relief my nerves had demanded I be insane. Or both.

"Oh, really?" Hans asked with deceptive ease.

And I knew it was deceptive, it was that tone of voice, but I heard myself say, "Yeah. Your first one was too tame. The only part I really liked was being trapped against the counter."

What?! What the hell? Why are you provoking him?! My consciousness yelled at whatever psychotic subconscious urge had briefly taken over. I tried to hold in a nervous laugh, but I didn't have time. Hans grinned and swept forward with a growl and I shrieked instead, because the next thing I knew he had picked me up.

Hans was fast, way too fast for someone that big. He had one arm under my butt, lifting me up, and his other hand was cradling my head again, protecting it. My shoulders hit my living room door before I'd finished my shriek. I was pinned between the door and his muscled bulk, my feet dangling off the ground and my arms trapped, one under his arm, near his waist, and the other pinned between his shoulder and mine. He was leaning into me, way too close for comfort, and he didn't have to lean down to reach my lips this time. Hans tilted his head and pressed his mouth over mine.