It was only supposed to be an outing today. Actually, the whole two months from now were supposed to be vacation time. Then, how you might ask, did he end up in lock-up, on a goddamned Friday, swarmed by drunk off their asses people that somehow agreed to sleep on or near him? Well, it all started with a bar fight. He didn't start it. Some punkass Casanova wannabe couldn't take a no from the bartender and he stepped in. What did he get? A punch to the face. Of course he retaliated. Of course he won. If he weren't in lock-up, you could bet your pretty little ass, he'd grin and say, "You should see the other guy." Childish, he knew but fuck. It'd had been forever since he'd been let loose. Granted there were other ways but still, the thought counted, right? Still, he guessed it wasn't so bad with the cute girl curled up on his lap. You. He grinned at the memory of earlier tonight. You had a mean right hook. And you stood up for yourself too. Safe to say, he never respected a female bartender more than tonight. Never wanted to just. . . Well, he wasn't exactly sure what but he knew he'd love your company. Little firecracker, he thought with a smile, running his fingers through your hair as you slept while he shoved off a dude trying to drool on his lap. He liked your fire. A lot.