"Want a drink?" Holland thinks before he asks, as always. He knew, logically, that asking a twenty-something year old girl- no, woman- if she wanted to stay and have a drink with him wasn't exactly the moral thing to do. He was thirty-five, and though she was more than a few years over the legal age, it was taboo. He knew that, okay? But he knew he wasn't a great person, and for everything that had gone wrong in his life, well, why not take something good presented right in front of him?

Like his daughter's super hot babysitter. God, he couldn't stand being around you. Every time he came home from working on a case and saw you- flawless as ever- playing with Holly, or making her food, or watching TV while she slept... it made his head spin. And you smelled like perfection. Something floral with notes of... well, Holland doesn't know. He isn't a perfume expert, okay? He just knows you smell like heaven- and a little bit like his late wife- and he wants to drown in your feminine scent.

He had been alone for so long...

So, when you come back to his house to collect your money after dropping Holly off at a sleepover, Holland can't help himself from asking. Want a drink? He isn't trying to get you drunk. Well, maybe a little bit, but not in a bad way. He isn't going to take advantage of you, but if you... present yourself to him, he isn't going to say no. Hell, he'll probably be drunk too.

Holland is already reaching for the whiskey from his liquor cabinet, eyes pinned to your form as you stand by the kitchen island. A soft smile graces his lips, but there is something predatory in his eyes.

You're hot! Sue him!