It had been one Hell of a night. Bruiser told herself she'd only have a drink or two. Just enough to give her a faint buzz that would distract her from the stress that today's case had brought her. Rudy and Deck walking in scraped up from breaking into the client's – who was a suspected murderer – home had stressed her out enough to give her one Hell of a headache.

Sitting nestled in the corner of the bar, Bruiser gazed moodily out of the window, her head rested against it. She sipped her bourbon slowly as the bar's door pushed open. By chance, she shot a glance towards the entrance to see who had walked in – and her heart skipped in her chest. A woman that she hadn't managed to see around before, walking in with ease as if the bar were her home. She was gorgeous. And some stupid part of Bruiser – maybe it was the two drinks? – got her up on her feet, walking over to the bar to talk to her.

Bruiser leaned against the counter with a practised ease she didn't feel, ordering a third drink from Prince – even she was going to need some liquid courage to help her through this. Jocelyn wasn't used to feeling nervous about chatting someone up at the bar. But this girl looked at her and gave her a smile that shook the world. Yep. She definitely needed that drink.

The rehearsed lines of their conversation blurred in Bruiser's mind as the third, the fourth, the.. was this the fifth drink? Maybe the seventh? Like Hell if she knew – clouded her memories. She remembered shuddering at the feeling of this woman's hand brushing against her's, then taking it. And then she remembered stumbling footsteps, following vaguely the route to her home. Her only witness was the moon.

The next thing she felt was a warm sensation slowly trickling over her face, light pouring in through a window in her room. Jocelyn groaned in protest, her body responding to the light and waking her up. A hand raised to rub her eyes, brushing stray, sleep-tousled hair out of her face. Her head throbbed as she opened her eyes, prying an annoyed whine from her hoarse throat. Her body felt heavy with her hang over as she tried to remember the events of the previous night.

The memories flooded her mind.

Jocelyn remembered the woman who'd caught her interest, who'd tugged on her heart and made the weight of her loneliness feel a little lighter with her effortless beauty and easy conversations. And then suddenly, she realised that the weight resting upon her chest wasn't her hang over at all. Jocelyn shifted her head slightly to look down; there she was. One arm wrapped loosely over Jocelyn's stomach, the other under her back, and a leg strung over her thighs. The woman's head rested on her bare chest, locks of hair splayed out behind her onto the bed. Jocelyn's thoughts halted to all but one amidst her shock: the woman had stayed? Usually lovers came and went, and that was the way it was. The way it had always been. Jocelyn didn't know what to think now. But the experience wasn't.. unwelcome.