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pickledpascal · 5 months

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Bewitched

Chapter Four: When the Day Met the Night

Warnings: slurs but mostly fluff somehow

Word Count: 2.5k

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True to her word, Emily arrived by plane in Montana the following weekend. Well, it was actually Thursday morning but Emily had a few excused absences she could use up. Beau picked her up from the airport with coffee and a few different pastries from his new favorite café. All thanks to Kiera.

Emily sighed happily after her first sip. Beau got her a hot chocolate, something he hadn't tried before but thought it would be nice in the cold weather. He knew Emily drank coffee, occasionally, but didn't want to get her hooked at a young age.

“Good?” Beau asked as he adjusted his hands on the steering wheel, glancing her way.

Emily nodded with a contented smile, keeping both hands on the warm cardboard cup. “It's so good. This the place you and Kiera met at?” She asked smugly.

Beau rolled his eyes. She knew the answer. She just wanted him to admit it. “Yeah.” He said after a while. “But I stayed for the really good croissants and danishes.”

“Sure,” Emily said, doubtful. “Totally not because there was a hot, tall goth girl with piercings and platform boots that only made her taller.” She teased with knowing eyes.

“Wait, how'd you know about the boots?” Beau blinked.

Emily smirked, “That was just a guess.”

Beau let out a forced cough and looked away from Emily, turning the volume up on his radio. “Wow, that's—um—you like Taylor Swift, right? What's this song called?” He knew it was on a pop station but he couldn't recognize what song was playing.

“Willow.” Emily stared at her father, amusement in her eyes. She'd never seen him quite like this before. Flustered. All because of a woman. A woman he hadn't known for that long.

The truck stopped just outside the Airstream. Beau helped Emily take out her luggage and put it inside his trailer with a small sigh. Thankfully the park he stayed in provided Wifi for all the guests. Emily had some homework she wanted to get done. It was last minute, especially after Midterms and everything were done.

“I finally have some food and a working grill so I can make you dinner tonight instead of getting takeout or something.” Beau offered Emily as she came out of the Airstream, one of his blankets around her shoulders.

Emily hummed in response as she sat next to Beau. “Burgers would be nice.”

Beau wrapped an arm around Emily's shoulder and pulled her closer, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Then burgers it'll be.” He leaned his head against hers.

Having a simple moment like this made Beau's heart swell. It's been a while. A quiet, soft moment with Emily was few and far between these days. There was the part where they lived so far away and he couldn't travel too often as Sheriff. So he enjoyed it as best he could. Beau knew he would have to let go eventually. He just hoped it wouldn't be so soon.

“You ever talk to mom about Kiera?” Emily asked softly, moving her head so it lay against Beau's shoulder.

Beau shifted uncomfortably, pursing his lips. “Sometimes.” It's not that he still liked Carla, he just felt weird talking to a woman he used to love about a woman he currently has feelings for. “We're still… working out our relationship.” He wanted to stay friends, or friendly, with Carla for Emily.

There was a moment where he thought he still loved her.

But that was quickly shut down since Kiera came along. She was amazing, beautiful, nice—after he got to know her—and he fell for her. A little harder than he first expected but he couldn't exactly control it. What he was feeling. What he wanted to feel with Kiera. It was all so new yet familiar at the same time.

His phone buzzed in his pocket. Beau grabbed it an looked at the caller ID. Kiera? He answered it, lifting the speaker to his ear. “Hey!”

“Yeah, hey!” Kiera's voice was harbored, breathing heavily. She was stressed, he could tell. “I'm really sorry to bother you right now but Dalia got in trouble at school—possible suspension or something—and I'm a little swamped at work right now. Would you mind going to the school for me?”

Beau blinked at her words. He knew Dalia was a handful but suspension, really? For a second grader? “Uh, yeah, sure. I'll be right there.” He glanced at Emily who was looking at him strangely.

“Thank you!” Kiera sighed happily. “I'll see you after work.” He could imagine her shoulders slumped with relief.

“Change of plans?” Emily asked as Beau hung up the phone.

Beau shrugged apologetically. “Kiera's kid got in trouble at school,” He sighed and pressed a kiss to Emily's temple as he stood. “I gotta go get her.”

Emily stood up as well. “If you're going, I'm going.”

Beau pursed his lips. It wasn't like he was taking Emily into a hornets nest but he wasn't completely sure what he was walking into—never was when it came to Dalia—and he wasn't sure he wanted Emily around for that. For a seven-year-old, Dalia was intense.

But he knew Emily was stubborn. Much like himself. Much like her mother. “Okay.” He said carefully.

Emily and Beau arrived at the school. Beau parked his truck in the front, assuming that there was no need to find a space since they wouldn't be there too long. They walked into the front office where Beau did not see a certain dark-haired child clad in pastels waiting to be picked up.

“Hi, um, I'm Beau Arlen and I'm here to pick up Dalia Styx.” Beau said to the lady at the front desk, his signature smile on his face.

The lady's eyes widened at the sight of him. “Right, Ms. Styx did say a Beau Arlen was coming,” She bit her lip as she looked down at her computer. “I didn't think she was telling the truth.” She whispered the last part but Beau could hear it.

Everyone in Helena knew of Beau at this point. Whether that be because of the backpacker case he worked on with Cassie or any other, smaller case he worked on, it was nice to know he was known. Denise always said it was because he was the hot new Sheriff from Texas. That always made him flustered.

“Dalia is in the principal's office.” She explained as she adjusted her glasses. “I can show you the way.”

Beau glanced at Emily and nodded at the office lady. “Yeah, that'd be great.” He wondered what Dalia could've even done to end up in the principal's office.

Beau and Emily were led into the office and down a few winding halls. How did the outside of the school look so small but this office was huge? They stopped at the end of the hall at a large wooden door, decorated a bit differently than the ones they passed. The hinges were brass at it had a large window in the middle that was covered by curtains on the other side.

The office lady left as Beau opened the door. “Ah, Sheriff Arlen. Sit,” Said the principal—Mr. Pope. Beau saw the nameplate on his desk. “And you are?” His eyes shifted to Emily.

“His daughter.” She responded, glancing to Dalia who sat in one of the two chairs in front of the principals desk. Her arms were crossed as she stared at the edge of the desk.

Beau sat next to Dalia and pursed his lips. “Can you tell me what happened? Kiera wasn't too… descriptive on the phone.” He glanced at Dalia who seemed to be more regretful that she was caught.

Mr. Pope looked from Beau to Dalia. “Why don't you explain what happened?”

Dalia pouted and rolled her eyes. “My classmate called my mommy a tranny so I called her a motherfucker.” Her eyes shined with pride and Beau had to resist the urge to laugh. “And then she told on me to the teacher. She said I said the B-word and I called her dumb because motherfucker doesn't start with b.”

Mr. Pope looked from Dalia to Beau then up to Emily who was trying her best to suppress laughter. He narrowed his eyes at the teen.

“Is suspension really necessary? From what she said, her classmate started it first.” Beau commented. He tried to reason. If anything, saying a slur should be enough reason to be suspended.

Mr. Pope shook his head. “Dalia will be suspended for a week. Given that the holidays are soon, it'd give her more time for her to reflect on her actions.”

“I won't.” Dalia smiled sweetly at her principal. “You're giving me more time to learn more from the books my mommy gets me. So thank you!” She jumped off her chair and slid her backpack on. She took Emily's hand and pulled her out of the office.

Beau watched and then turned to the principal. “We're gonna get her out of your hair so, um, bye.” He waved before he followed Dalia and Emily out of the school.

He helped Dalia into the truck since she was weirdly short for someone related to Kiera. A woman so tall Beau questioned if she was taller than him some days, not that it'd matter. Or that he'd care. Alright, maybe he'd care a little. But not in the way that it emasculated him, no, he liked it. Liked it maybe a little too much.

“You're really cool for a seven-year-old.” Emily said as Beau started to drive. She glanced back at Dalia through the rearview mirror.

Dalia shrugged. “My mom said I should just be myself and everyone would like me.” Her eyebrows furrowed. “At least, the people that mattered.”

Beau hummed as he looked at the center of his steering wheel, a fond look on his face. Kiera was so young and yet seemed so wise in the short time they'd known each other. Her life was tumultuous. He was starting to realize she needed to mature faster than he did. Faster than a lot of people he knew. And she wanted to give her daughter a semblance of a normal childhood, even with Dalia’s overactive imagination and strange interests.

Dalia unbuckled herself as Beau parked his truck. She slammed open the door and ran up the porch. “I've been here before! I never knew you lived here.” She said excitedly. Beau cocked an eyebrow. “I wonder in the woods sometimes. I've seen this place, the pretty lights,” She looked up at the lights with wonder in her eyes. “The 1984 Airstream. The way it reflects the lights…” She hummed.

Beau and Emily shared a look as they exited the truck. “You okay with staying here until your mom comes to pick you up, sweetheart?” Beau got on one knee to be level with Dalia.

“Yeah. You're gonna be my new dad soon anyway.” Dalia tilted her head, a crease between her eyebrows. The comment surprised Beau. “Actually, you'd be my first dad! Because my mommy wasn't ever really a daddy and I technically have two mommies. One who birthed me and the other who—” She stopped, looking up at Emily and Beau. They looked at her weirdly. “I know where babies come from. I read.”

Beau ruffled Dalia's hair with a big smile. “Yeah, I gathered that.”

“Mommy told me not to let a stranger touch my hair unless they ask.” Dalia pursed her lips in thought. “But you're not a stranger.”

“Dalia, do you wanna come read with me? I'm doing a book report on urban legends.” Emily suggested. She had a feeling Dalia would like it.

Dalia grabbed Emily's hand and practically dragged her inside the Airstream.

Beau watched and let out a sigh as the door closed. And locked. Okay. No disturbances. Beau sighed as he sat on his porch, clasping his hands between his knees. Dalia calling him dad, even if not completely, made Beau feel all kinds of things. Emily was the only child he wanted for a while. She was perfect. A handful still, even if she was just one girl. And then Kiera came into his life, inevitably bringing Dalia into it as well.

She was a one-of-a-kind, that's for sure. A child whom her mother trusted so deeply that she would not get lost or killed in the woods, who stood up to people, and who knew a lot more than Beau could imagine. Maybe he did want more kids. Just Dalia. And her weird, dark, but fun, mind.

Kiera walked up to Beau’s porch. He saw a retro-looking car next to his truck. It was painted black much like Kiera’s clothing choice.

“Thanks for getting Dalia,” Kiera smiled as she sat next to Beau, adjusting her coat. “What'd she do this time?” She asked with a small sigh. As if it was procedure at this point.

Beau bit the inside of his cheek, wrapping an arm around Kiera. “I don't think I'm at liberty to say.”

“That bad, huh?”

Beau shrugged. “Not exactly.”

Kiera sighed and looked down at her knees. Her jaw was tightened and she was wringing her hands slightly. Beau was an oblivious man but was also observant. She was nervous. Second guessing herself. He had a clue as to why.

Beau held her closer, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “Dalia stood up for you. A kid called you something bad. You're raising her right. Standing up for those you love, isn't that something you'd do?” He smiled warmly at Kiera as he lifted a hand to her cheek.

Kiera lifted her eyes to meet Beau’s and let out a small sigh. “Yeah. I just–” She glanced down. “I wonder if putting Dalia in a public school is the right thing. I wonder if… I'm doing this wrong. She's so much smarter than me,” Beau listened, deciding that's mostly what Kiera needed at the moment. “I'm autistic too. But a different kind. She's the smart kind of autistic that likes reading books and learning and recognizing patterns while I just obsess over The Cure and The Cramps and only like eating Mac and Cheese for weeks until I change my safe food to something else. Why do you think I only wear black? I do like black. But colors just feel wrong. The–The textures of it, it's different and it's like I'm the only one who can feel it. Scratchy, weird, ugh, I hate it.” She rolled her shoulders in disgust, scrunching up her face.

Beau frowned at Kiera. He hadn't known about this yet. Well, a little of it. Dalia had inadvertently told him she and Kiera were on the spectrum but he didn't know the extent of it. This wasn't something he could change but it was something he could accommodate in his life.

Beau sighed and pursed his lips. “You're doing the best you can. Unfortunately, sometimes, that's all we can do.” He rubbed Kiera's shoulder.

“Is that what you tell yourself or do you lose yourself in self-loathing too?” Kiera asked.

Emily snickered from behind the pair. Kiera and Beau turned to look at her. “Sorry, just—uh, I'm Emily.” She stuck out her hand for Kiera to shake.

Kiera stood and accepted the hand with a small smile. “I know.”

“Woah, she is tall.” Emily said before she could think.

Beau chuckled as he stood next to Kiera. Dalia came running out of the Airstream and immediately hugged Kiera's legs.

Kiera brushed Dalia’s hair away from her face as she squatted down to talk with her. “You alright?” She asked softly.

“Uh-huh! Emily was talking to me about the Hull House mansion which is said to be one of the most haunted places in America!” Dalia said excitedly with a nod of her head.

Kiera looked up at Emily who was a little too distracted in seeing if her nails were chipped. “Was it fun?”

“Yeah! And, Beau,” Dalia turned to the cowboy. “The wolves like you.”

Beau cocked his head. “Uh, thanks?”

“No problem!” Dalia grinned.

“Look, sweetheart, we gotta go. I don't want to intrude on father-daughter time as much as I already have.” Kiera said apologetically, patting Dalia’s shoulder.

Emily looked at Beau who appeared like a kicked puppy. “We're having burgers.” She said as nonchalantly as possible.

“Yeah, uh–” Beau smiled nervously. He still wasn't good at this. Kiera never failed to make him feel so… so weird. In a good way. Like he was in middle school and had just mustered up enough courage to ask his crush to the homecoming dance. “W-Would you like to stay for dinner? We are having burgers. You like burgers right? Unless you hate burgers—oh, you hate burgers.” His shoulders slumped.

“No, I like burgers.” Kiera chuckled, an amused smile on her face as she looked at Beau and Emily.

Beau perked up and then nodded. “Great!”

Kiera looked down at her daughter. “Do you wanna have dinner with Beau and Emily?” She asked softly.

“Are they bison burgers?” Dalia looked up at Beau. He shook his head. “Then yes!”

Emily held out her hand for Dalia to take. “We can make the mixture. My dad taught me the perfect recipe.” Dalia quickly ran over and entered the Airstream with Emily.

“Why is bison a bad thing?” Beau asked curiously.

Kiera wet her lips and rubbed at her arms to keep warm. “Bison was traditionally hunted by Native Americans before white colonizers decided to kill bison for sport, effectively cutting off one of our sources for food,” She explained with a sigh, “Montana is one of the only places that still have wild bison. Very few. And they're sometimes killed for meat. Dalia has the moral compass of a saint. Most times. She doesn't like to eat bison. She doesn't like eating any meat unless she can be certain it died of natural causes. However, there are exceptions.”

Beau hummed. That child did have the moral compass of a saint. Doing what needs to be done and showing mercy on animals who don't deserve it. That sounded saintly to him.

“That why you asked her if she wanted to eat with us tonight?” Beau cocked his head, taking Kiera's hand. Her skin was cold and he knew he attracted warmth.

Kiera hummed in response. “Yeah. And she's been craving my squash stew for weeks but I can never find the right ingredients around here. I thought she'd say no.” She admitted as her eyes found Beau's. “She likes you. A lot.” Beau pursed his lips. He'd only interacted with her twice. But he could tell it was the truth. “One day you might end up as her favorite person. Too bad it's been me all her life.” She teased softly.

Beau nudged Kiera with his shoulder and then pulled her close. “Who's your favorite person?”

“Right now? You.” Kiera murmured as she pressed a kiss to Beau's cheek.

He swore if he would've died right then and there and would've been happy.

------

taglist: @deans-spinster-witch

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justpadaleckisackles · 1 year

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Big Sky | Beau, Emily & Carla

#big sky #beau arlen #emily arlen #carla de lugo #jensen ackles #cree cicchino #angelique cabral #my gifs #mine #jensen roles

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countrymusiclover · 1 year

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8 - Our Past's Are Complicated

Part 9

Other Hoyt's Off Limits

Tag list - just ask to be added ☺️

Sitting up in my bed I was still half asleep stretching my arms and legs out hearing footsteps come down the hallway of our place. My sister and I decided to split the cost of the house so I didn’t have to find my own place. The footsteps halted in the doorway where I looked up. “Hey sis, Cassie called me and said she got a call from Cormac about something suspicious. So I’ll see you later.”

“Alright. Tell me what she says when you get back.” I responded hugging my knees to my cheek underneath the blankets.

She turned on her heels flipping her hair over her shoulders when she paused. “Let me just make something clear. You’re not seeing Beau right like we planned?”

Knitting my brows together I tried to play it cool like we weren’t secretly dating without her knowing. We had only had two dates and I’m not sure you could call that we had a long kiss. We only had quick little ones here or there. “What no way. We made a deal and I promised I would stick to it.”

Jenny leaned her back against the doorway crossing her arms over her chest. “Look you better not be lying to me. I don’t want you to get hurt like with JW. I dated a cop and it didn’t work out. Dating someone that you work with especially.”

“Travis and you shouldn’t have happened and I’m sorry to say that but it is true. You shouldn’t have gotten together when he was undercover.” I scoffed, crossing my arms over my chest, getting a little annoyed that she was judging me.

My sister pointed her index finger at me, raising her voice towards me. “This isn’t about Travis, this is about you, Mallory. The night you found out about the girl that he killed you came home sobbing to me. I don’t want you to feel like that again. You’re my sister and I am trying to protect you.”

Tossing the covers away I got up from the bed shrugging on some black leggings with my shirt that had a cowgirl hat on the front of it. Putting my hair in a ponytail I heard my phone go off figuring it was Beau. “I understand that but you should go. Cassie is waiting for you.” She gave me a straight face exiting the bedroom leaving me alone.

“Hey darlin’ I was thinking about bringing over some pizza and beers since we have the day off. Sound cool to you?” He asked through the phone.

Closing the fridge I pulled out some beers knowing that my sister wouldn’t be back for a few hours so I could replace the ones we drank. “Yep I’ve got the beers covered. So come on over.” It wasn’t long before I heard him knock three times on the front door only an hour later.

Getting up from the couch I flung open the door smiling towards my boss. He walked in sitting the food on the table in front of the tv before embracing me in a hug. “I’ve missed you, Mal.” Nuzzling my head into his chest flinging my arms around his neck. His arms secured around my waist resting his chin on top of my head softly. Clutching my hands into fists behind his back I sniffed slowly starting to cry into his embrace where he clearly noticed. “Mallory, what’s wrong. Why are you crying? Talk to me sweetheart.”

He broke the hug gently holding his hands on my forearms. Those green eyes focused on me as I let tears slip down my face. “Beau, it’s nothing…I’m fine. Let’s eat pizza.”

I removed myself from his hold but he managed to snag my wrist quickly. “Hold on, Mallory. Seriously, you know you can talk to me. So please tell me what is bothering you.”

“Jenny and I had a fight sort of this morning…” I trailed off where he led me down to sit on the couch intertwining my hands with his in my lap. He didn’t say a word, just letting me go at my own pace. “She’s piecing together that we are getting close. I hate lying to her but she has put this idea in her head that you will be like my ex John Wayne. And I brought up her ex Travis because he’s why she won’t date cops anymore…she thinks that will happen to me…to us.”

Beau reached up, wiping away some of the tears from my cheeks. “The drug dealer cartel.” I nodded my head yes slowly before he kept talking. “Look, you shouldn’t be having fights with her about our relationship. Now you told me about your past with JW and I even have my own past. So don’t ever think that you can’t talk to me about what you think I might do wrong. I messed up with Carla and Emily but I will do better with you,”

Squeezing his hands in mine I wiped away opening the pizza box handing him a piece taking a bite out of mine. “Can I ask what happened between you two? Like why didn’t it work if you don’t mind.”

“It’s fine, don't worry.” He took a bite handing me the pepperoni from his piece since he just wanted cheese pizza tonight. “Let’s just say that we had fights over little things. Me coming home and drinking after a hard day of work. That turned into almost everyday before I left for work. And I just became different around everyone…long story short I’m trying to move past them now.”

Sitting my piece of pizza down I lay my head on his shoulder where he draped his arm over tugging me closer into his embrace. A comfortable silence filled the house while we just sat there together. Slowly turning my head I saw he was staring down at me longingly too. “You’re a good guy, Beau. I wish I would have met you first.”

“You’re perfect, Mallory. Your ex was a dumbass.” He responded in an almost mumble underneath his breath blinking once as he leans forward and I followed shortly, connecting our lips in a long kiss. He snacks his arms around my waist where I climbed in his lap, never breaking the kiss.

Running my fingers up his chest I gripped the fabric of his white flannel shirt for a few minutes before my fingers knotted themselves in his hair tugging a few strands hearing him moan into the kiss. The Texas sheriff ran his hands up my back resting one hand there moving his other up to cradle my face gently. I broke the kiss for a split second hearing us both panting but we were so caught up in the moment that neither of us seemed to care.

Beau deepened the kiss cupping the other side of my face with his hand. Wrapping my arms around his neck he leaned back onto the couch when I tilted his chin up not expecting that our day would go like this. He moved his hands underneath my shirt, breaking the kiss searching for me to tell him stop. “Do you want me to stop?”

"No. I…um. I've never done anything more than this. Not even with my ex.." I blushed, feeling embarrassed that here I was still a virgin while my sister was married and already had a kid in college.

Beau gently turned my chin back toward him so I was focused on his green eyes resting his forehead against mine. "We don't have to do anything else if you're not ready for it honey." Bending my head down I snuggle into his warmth letting him wrap his arms around me kissing my forehead until his phone rang. "Arlen, what's up. Wait, what do you mean you let her go into the woods alone?"

I could tell by the frustration in his tone that it must be the new husband he was talking too. He hung up the phone causing me to sit upright on the couch. "What was that about?"

"Carla's new husband, Avery. He let my daughter go into the woods by herself and now he called saying she was all in a panic. Also they found a dead girl's body that was brought back. I'm sorry Mallory but I've gotta go." He stood up, removing himself from my hold heading for the door.

Snatching my boots that I had accidentally thrown under the couch coming home late from the office I grabbed my cameo jacket calling his name. "Beau, wait." He paused watching me grab my house key following him to his truck. "I'm coming with you."

Comments really appreciated ❤️

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zepskies · 15 days

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A Good Man Is Hard to Find

Pairing: Beau Arlen x F. Reader

Summary: When Beau starts pulling away from you and Emily during a very difficult case, will the pressure make or break your relationship?

AN: This is a sequel story to the Take Me Home storyverse, set just a few months after Part 9!

Word Count: 5.5K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, a Law & Order: SVU-esque case, angst, perilous situations and violence, hurt/comfort and fluff.

Catch up on TMH: ⤵️

❤️ Take Me Home Masterlist

You took pleasure in the sounds you were pulling out of this man.

You continued to kiss down his neck. Each of your movements was slow and purposeful.

Your hips rolled against his, brushing your clothed, aching core against his risen length. His hands were like steel bands on your hips, not letting you leave even if you wanted to. He groaned.

“I needa get ready for work,” Beau chuckled. And he pointed out, “So do you.”

You smiled against his skin, and you gently dragged his flesh between your teeth.

“It’s still early,” you argued in his ear. You teased the shell of it with your tongue, making him shudder and rock his clothed hard-on between your legs. The wet tip of his cock dampened your panties further.

His hands moved down your thighs, caressing, squeezing, getting a handful of your ass in the process. Just as his fingers dipped under the satin hem of your panties, his phone buzzed on one of the nightstands. Beau let out a sigh of disappointment and reached over blindly for it.

He saw the caller ID and took in a breath to get himself together first. Even though he didn’t quite succeed, he answered the call.

“Mornin’, Jenny,” he greeted. You grinned.

“Tell her I said hi,” you whispered.

Beau shot you a “stern” look, though his lips curved at a smile. He mouthed at you to behave.

You gave him a look that was cheeky at best.

“We caught a new case. If you want, you can meet us at the scene instead of the precinct,” said Jenny.

“Okay, where to?” Beau asked.

While Jenny gave him the directions, you used his distraction to your advantage. You shimmied out of your underwear and the overly large shirt you’d stolen from him last night. Then you drew down the waistband of his underwear and freed his cock into your hands.

“Okay, sounds g—” Beau was forced to pause on a sharp inhale.

“You okay?” Jenny asked.

“Y-Yeah. Just fine. Had a tickle in my throat,” Beau said.

"Okay, well just so you know," Jenny said, continuing to give him tidbits of information that he really should've been paying attention to.

He cleared his throat, shooting you an incredulous look. You didn’t pay him much mind as you began to touch him with care, from the weeping tip and along the shaft down to the base, even caressing his balls.

Beau’s furrowed gaze held yours as his breath faltered again. Your deft hands lined up his cock to your entrance. You teased yourself on the sensitive head of it, brushing it through your wet folds and against your clit. You had to bite your lip against a moan, but you didn’t quite manage to stifle the sound.

“Okay, Jenny. Thanks, I’ll see you there in a bit,” he said in a rush.

He hung up as soon as he could, but all the while, you were unrelenting. You finally sunk fully down on his cock, taking him all the way inside your wet heat.

Beau let out a strained groan and grabbed your arms. He sat up and pressed his forehead to yours. His lips formed a chiding smile.

“That wasn’t very nice,” he said. His voice was a bit rough, sending a shiver down your spine.

“You want me to be nice?” you teased, beginning to let the full length of him slide out of you. You welcomed him back inside with a rock of your hips. “I just need a moment of your time, Sheriff.”

He nodded breathlessly. “Think I can manage that.”

You smirked and held onto the back of his neck as you rode him. You had a feeling you would find fingerprint bruises on your hips and thighs tomorrow, but this was worth it.

It took a lot to see Beau lose control, even in the bedroom. Now, he had a hand tangled in your hair and his lips fastened to your throat. He helped you move on him with a guiding hand on your hip. You slipped a hand from his shoulder and further parted your folds to find your clit.

But as Beau so often did, he moved your hand away so he could usher in your pleasure himself. He massaged your clit until your inner walls became almost too tight for him to drive up into you. Your thighs shook around his hips, and he managed to hold off on his own release until you came, hard on his cock.

You cried out near his ear and held onto his shoulders. He supported your collapse against his chest, but he still grabbed your hip tighter and rutted into you a few more times, until he was able to spill into you and fill you up to the brim with his warmth. You clenched on him on purpose, milking him for all he was worth.

Fuuuckin’ hell, he thought with a grunt, and he panted against your shoulder. He laid a belated kiss there.

“What a way to greet the sun,” he remarked.

You laughed breathily, caressing his cheek.

Beau was, inevitably, running late for work. He found that he was okay with that as he kissed you goodbye.

You were still in your robe and holding a mug of coffee. You didn’t need to be at work for another couple of hours. Your Tuesday classes didn’t start until 10:00 a.m.

“Have a good day, baby. I…” you trailed.

Certain words were poised on your tongue. Words that neither of you had said to one another just yet. Your heart started tripping up a bit as you realized it.

Even though you’d known the truth of what you felt for him for a while now, you’d been very careful to let him say it first. You told yourself you didn’t want to pressure him, in light of his contentious divorce and how new this all still was between you and Beau…

But more often, you wondered if you were maybe projecting, considering your own rocky past. Maybe it was just self-preservation.

“Yeah?” Beau questioned. You waved him off with a nervous chuckle.

“Nothing. I don’t know,” you said. “My coffee hasn’t kicked in yet.”

He just smiled and gave you one last kiss to the side of your head before he left your apartment.

Beau arrived at the scene of the crime: the parking lot of a movie theater. Jenny and Poppernak were already there inside the perimeter of yellow caution tape while the Forensics team did their thing. Jenny checked her watch when she saw the sheriff.

“What took you so long?” she asked.

“Traffic,” Beau lied, his face warming. “What’ve we got?”

He quickly shifted his attention to the pool of blood staining the ground between his deputies. The path of his gaze led to the victim: a young woman wearing a blouse, skirt, and heels. The skirt was torn up to the hip. Her neck was cut, deep but clean.

There were other signs of struggle; road burns on her right thigh, like she had been dragged. Jenny even found a can of pepper spray rolled under the victim’s car.

“Maybe he was trying to get her to his car. She fought back hard enough that he cut his losses,” she theorized.

Beau blew out a sigh and nodded grimly.

“Okay. Let’s get started.”

Two months gave the Lewis and Clark Sheriff’s Department two more murders. Both were women, presumably alone and late at night, and in the dimly lit, poorly secured parking lot of an establishment.

Stressed didn’t begin to cover how Beau Arlen walked back into the precinct two hours before he truly had to. What little forensics they’d been able to uncover from each scene (and on the victims) let them to conclude that the suspect was male, and likely between 5’10” and over 6 feet tall.

As they now had a murder cluster, Beau and his team determined that the victims were found within a 5-mile radius. Both Emily’s school and the college where you taught were within that range.

It had led Beau to long nights spent at the precinct and in town, researching, canvasing, working with his team to lock down possible leads.

But those two months had also led him to cancel dates with you and plans with his daughter. He hadn’t stayed over your apartment in weeks. You’d spoken to Emily, and she told you he was often late in picking her up from school on his custody days with her. When she was with him, he always seemed distant, distracted.

It was all too familiar, Emily told you, and she hated it.

You were worried and becoming increasingly frustrated. Any calls you made to him to check in were a few minutes at most, before he left you hanging to go back to work.

Beau had told you this was a difficult string of homicide cases, and very little else. You knew that he shouldn’t and couldn’t tell you too many details about the case, but you also couldn’t help but feel that he was pulling away from you…and leaving you in the dark.

You’d just gotten home after a longer day than usual at work. Frankly, you were exhausted. All you wanted to do was shower and find whatever you could in your fridge to have for dinner. You didn’t care what it was at this point.

Before you could go rummaging, however, your phone started to ring. You sighed and went back to the purse you dumped on the kitchen table, and you saw that the call was from Carla. Your brows knitted in confusion. She’d been on a business trip in California for one of her higher-profile trial cases.

Carla was polite on the phone, but sounded a bit stressed.

“Emily just called to tell me that Beau hasn’t come by to pick her up from school. She’s been there for two hours,” Carla said.

Your eyes widened in surprise. “What? That’s not like him.”

“I know, but he’s not picking up his phone. Is he with you?” she asked.

“No, I just got home. He has to be still at work,” you said. You restrained a sigh as you grabbed your purse back up. “I can pick Emily up.”

“Are you sure?” she asked, in a relieved tone that suggested that was what she’d wanted all along, but she still wanted to be polite about it.

“Yes, I’ll get her. Don’t worry,” you said. “And I’ll talk to Beau about this.”

“Good,” Carla said. “I appreciate that.”

After getting off the phone with Carla, you texted Emily and let her know you were coming to pick her up. She texted back:

Are you sure? I can just take an Uber to your place or something.

You replied:

No, honey. Don’t worry about it. I’ll be there in 15 - 20 minutes.

You didn’t manage to get ahold of Beau until you’d already picked Emily up from school. You braved through thirty minutes of traffic to get home again, and you stopped to grab dinner on the way.

Beau didn’t get to your apartment until later that night. You and Emily had a nice dinner of Tex-Mex takeout (though she’d said it was definitely better in Houston). He looked tired and apologetic as he went to hug his daughter first.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” he said. “I just got held up at work.”

Emily nodded and tried to smile at him, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

“It’s fine, I get it,” she said.

Beau knew his daughter well enough to see the truth. He sighed, but he went over to you in the kitchen next. You were putting away the leftovers. He laid a hand on your back and tried to kiss you in greeting, but you only gave him your cheek.

You didn’t meet his eyes when you slid over the plate you’d set aside for him: a massive carne asada burrito with all the sauces, just like he liked it.

Beau felt like an ass.

You left him to heat up his food and went to Emily, who was helping to clear the kitchen table.

“Do you need help with your homework?” you asked her. “I know you said you did some at school while you were waiting.”

She nodded. “Yeah, I’m pretty much done. I’ve got it.”

You smiled at her. “Okay, good job.”

The next item on your mental list was grabbing the bedsheets out of the dryer, to set up the pull-out bed from the couch later for Emily to sleep.

Beau watched you putter around the apartment while Emily settled in front of the TV with the remainder of her homework. He felt like an outsider with his own girlfriend and daughter…and there was an eerily familiar feeling churning in his gut.

Later that night, you were reading in bed. Beau stepped out of the bathroom after a shower, with the towel wrapped around his hips, his chest and arms all dewy. You had to force yourself not to take notice.

You’d been missing him—practically aching for him for weeks, for two months. You were also upset with him though, and for more than one reason.

After he got dressed for bed in a long-sleeved shirt and some sweatpants, Beau once again noticed that deceptively calm look on your face. He knew that face, just as he sensed the tension in the air.

He sighed and came to sit on the edge of his side of the bed. Or at least, the side he’d claimed ever since he started sleeping over regularly here. Somehow, his own trailer had become a bit stale and lonesome, unless Emily was staying over.

Beau watched your profile and saw the way you were trying your best to ignore him.

“I get the feeling you’re mad,” Beau said, breaking the silence. “Sorry about today. I know Carla called you…I just got caught up with something at work.”

“Carla was right to call me,” you replied, though your eyes didn’t leave the page that you weren’t reading. Beau’s lips pursed.

“Darlin’, would you look at me, please?” he asked.

You dropped your book into your lap, and you met his gaze.

“All right, tell me. Why’re you mad?” he asked.

You raised your brows with a tense frown.

“I’m upset with you. Because this is the first night you’ve spent here in over a month. And it’s not because you wanted to.”

You shoved the blankets off your body and slipped out of the bed. Beau’s shoulders sunk a bit.

“Come on, honey. You know that’s not—” he tried, but you weren’t done.

No, you were very far from done.

“I’m upset with you, because every time I try to extend an olive branch and make plans with you, you reschedule at the last minute,” you snapped. “I’m upset with you because what few and far between conversations we do have? They consist of me trying to figure out what’s happening with you, trying to share with you about what’s going on with me—and you’re either half-listening, or you’re running off before the five-minute mark.”

Again, Beau opened his mouth to argue as his brows furrowed, but you beat him to it.

“And not to mention, you forgot your daughter,” you said. “You’ve been forgetting her, and you’ve been shutting me out.”

Beau stood along with you, his whole body tense with frustration.

“Look, it’s not like I’m out there cheating on you! I’m doing my damn job!” he said.

His words hit you like a physical blow. Your mouth fell open in soft shock. Tears even stung in your eyes.

“Reminding me of Michael,” you nodded in understanding. “Okay. Wouldn’t be the first time this month.”

Beau bristled; he didn’t think it was right for you to compare him to your bastard ex-boyfriend.

“Hey, that’s not fair,” he said.

"This isn't fair," you retorted, gesturing between you both with a pointed finger.

Beau's lips pursed. His jaw clenched as he averted his gaze, so he could better hold his tongue before he said something he might regret.

Too late...

Eventually, you stopped waiting for him to answer you.

Beau saw how you withdrew, both from the argument, and from him with a sigh. You crossed your arms and held yourself when you headed into the bathroom.

He internally deflated. Shit.

Something told him that if Emily wasn’t occupying the only other sleeping place in this apartment, he’d have been booted out of your room.

Things were tense the next morning.

Beau agreed to take Emily to school, since you picked her up yesterday. You gave Emily a hug before they left, and you had even packed her a good lunch for school. You knew she had to do that herself whenever she stayed at her dad’s place.

And yes, while the teen was old enough and responsible enough to pack her own lunch, you just wanted to make sure she knew you were still in her corner, no matter what friction might be happening between you and her dad.

You and Beau parted ways that morning with tension still lying between you, just like it had been last night in your bed. After they headed out, you found yourself at a loss, feeling unbalanced.

You didn’t have a class today until noon, so you took the morning to truly think about what was happening here. Whatever Beau’s case was about, you knew it was serious and complex, and he didn’t want to talk about it, likely for your safety.

All you could hope was that Beau, Jenny, Poppernak and the rest of the team were able to solve it quickly. You even began to wonder if it was fair of you to add stress on Beau’s shoulders when he was dealing with something that was clearly taking all of his energy, and making him distant with both you and Emily.

Blowing out a big sigh, you supposed you could try to be gracious one more time. You braved the annoyance of putting real clothes on—a blouse and work casual pants, as you later would have to go in to work.

You first headed over to the precinct with your purse on one shoulder and a plastic bag hanging from your other hand.

You entered the double doors and walked in past the reception desk, then through the bullpen. You noticed right away that there was a commotion going on, as you saw Jenny leading in a man handcuffed behind his back. You almost bumped into him as they crossed you in the hall.

The man was tall and lean, with pieces of his coiffed dark hair falling over his sharp blue eyes. They found you, and his lips curved into a smile after he gave you a once-over.

His smile made a shiver of unease prickle down your spine as you froze.

“Keep moving, Casey,” Jenny ordered.

Beau was right behind her, though the moment he took in the exchange between you and Casey, Beau stalked forward and stepped in between, urging the other man forward with a firm hand on his shoulder and a stern look of warning.

Jenny and Popernak led the suspect into a room for questioning, while Beau’s hand found the small of your back and guided you into his office.

He closed the door behind him and carded a hand through his hair. He let out a subtle breath and turned to face you. He didn’t look all that happy to see you, just tense.

“What’s going on?” he asked. “Sorry, we’re a bit busy today.”

Before you could speak, he added, “Matter of fact, it’d be better if you called first next time.”

Your mouth snapped shut. Your brows knitted together in a glare, and you handed him the bag you carried in. It contained a nice hot sandwich and fries from Tonya’s diner, made by Donno himself.

“Here,” was all you said, before you walked out the door of the sheriff’s office.

Beau watched you go in surprise, with the word “wait” halting on his tongue. His gaze traveled down to the open bag between his hands, and sure enough, the smell of a good meal hit him, making his mouth water and his stomach twist with guilt all at once.

Damn it, he sighed. But lunch (and a phone call to you) would have to wait. He set it down on his desk and hastened down the hall to where their suspect, in what had been dubbed the “Fall Murders,” had finally been arrested and held for questioning.

Casey Sanderson; ex-military, dishonorably discharged, an abusive mother in his childhood and an unstable mind following two tours in the Middle East had left him unbalanced, according to his friends from his unit.

His DNA was also discovered under the fingernails of the most recent victim, Christina Mendez. Two weeks ago, her body was found behind a gas station late at night, her neck carved by a knife, and bruises littering her arms and body.

Beau entered the room where Poppernak and Jenny had already gotten started on the suspect.

“Casey here has lawyered up,” Jenny informed him, though her gaze never left the suspect. They were forced to wait on further questioning until the lawyer arrived.

“Ah, the Sheriff of Nottingham,” Casey remarked. His cool blue eyes watch with a measure of nonchalance as Beau stood behind his deputies, arms crossed.

Casey nodded up at him. “Was that your girl out there in the hall?”

Beau’s formerly calm face turned to stone.

Casey’s lips curved slightly.

“Good taste,” was all he said.

His tone was mild, yet it still made Beau’s skin crawl. And his rage built, igniting his blood. He did everything he could to temper that wildfire into a simmer that rolled just underneath his skin.

Jenny and Poppernak knew him well enough to see what he was thinking. Both of them watched him with hidden wariness and concern, especially when Beau stepped forward, placing one hand on the table between him and Casey Sanderson. Darkened green eyes met cool blue.

“Where were you on November 2 between 10:00 p.m. and 4:00 a.m.?” Beau asked.

Beau was irate when, a few days later, the ADA prosecutor called him at his office first thing in the morning to inform him of the latest news on Casey Sanderson.

“What the hell do you mean he got out on bail yesterday?” Beau snapped. “We have DNA evidence.”

“He claims that he and Miss Mendez had consensual sex earlier that evening, in the women’s bathroom, of all excuses, but they parted ways after leaving the movie theater,” said the ADA. “As you know, we couldn’t put him directly at the gas station near the theater, where she was found. The defense lawyer convinced the judge that the remaining evidence is too circumstantial to warrant holding him without bail.”

Fuckin’ hell, Beau let out an angry breath, carding his fingers through his hair. He hung up with the ADA moments later. His cell phone lighting up with a notification drew his attention, even perking him up a little, but he deflated when he saw it wasn’t from you.

Just Carla letting him know that she’d take Emily for the weekend this time, just like he’d asked. He felt bad for it, but he needed more time to concentrate on his cases. Sanderson was just one of many now, and Poppernak and Jenny couldn’t handle it all.

Beau tried to rub his tired face back to life, but once again, he thought of you. He still felt guilty, and he still missed you. Missed you like hell.

He hesitantly picked up his phone and he called you, hoping you wouldn’t let it go to voicemail again.

Admittedly, you were being a bit petty. You were screening your boyfriend’s calls.

However, if Beau Arlen wanted to see you, then he could get his ass up off that office chair and come to you this time.

You were tired of giving out olive branches left and right. You didn’t deserve to be the one left waiting and wringing your hands, wondering if this man even cared about you…as much as you’d come to care about him.

So you ignored his call—the second one today, and you prepared for your afternoon classes.

Even after your classes were done for the day, you graded a batch of papers to get them out of the way. As much as you couldn’t wait to go home, you didn’t feel like doing more work when you got there.

Another hour and a half ticked by before you finished grading and inputting the percentages into the online gradebook. Then, with a weary sigh, you grabbed your purse and your workbag and headed down to the garage where your car was parked.

You always tried to park in the same spot for faculty, in a space closest to the elevators. You found your car and put down your workbag in the backseat first. When you closed the door, you saw a figure in the window’s reflection.

You gasped and turned around. A man covered your mouth as a scream tore from your throat and echoed loudly in the garage.

He shoved you hard against the car door, but thanks to a few self-defense lessons from both Jenny and Beau, the heel of your hand came up on reflex.

It hit the man up the bridge of his nose with a crack. He shouted and reared back. When he pulled his hand back, it came away bloody. And you finally recognized him as the man you saw at the precinct: tall, thin, dark brown hair, angry blue eyes now staring back at you.

“Fucking bitch,” he chuckled. “Got some fight in you.”

Fear was a living thing inside you, but you somehow managed to force your body to move.

You scrambled for the driver’s door of your car and tried to open it, but the man shoved it closed, then grabbed at you once again. His forearm pressed across your chest and pinned you there.

The edge of a knife poised at your throat, making you freeze in panic. The blade teased your skin, hot breath against your cheek.

“Freeze, Casey!” came an angry shout. Both you and your attacker recognized that voice. Your breath was stifled in hope. Casey frowned in frustration.

Just over his right shoulder, you saw Beau holding his gun aimed at the man who held you. His brows were drawn together, his entire body poised to react to whatever Casey did next.

“Turn around, hands up high, and drop that knife,” Beau ordered.

Casey’s mouth edged into a humorless smile. “Evening, Sheriff. Up for a date night?”

He slid the blade just slightly against your skin, enough to draw a line of blood, and make you inhale sharply.

“I’m not gonna say it again! Turn around and drop the goddamn knife,” Beau snapped. “Try anything else, and I’ll make a third hole in your spine.”

Letting out a breath through his nose, Casey’s façade of nonchalance fell. He released you, stepping back slowly with his hands held in the air. The knife slipped out of his hand.

Beau stalked towards him before it even clattered to the floor. You were frozen where you stood pressed against your car.

You watched Beau stow away his gun and wrangle Casey’s hands behind his back, slapping on some tight handcuffs, and getting the man onto his stomach on the dusty ground, his cheek pressed hard to the asphalt. Beau held him down with one hand while he fished for his cell in his pocket to call for backup on the arrest.

Beau’s head lifted to catch your eyes. He gave you a reassuring look.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. I’ve got this,” he said.

His voice was warm for you, steady. When you nodded, it was a jerky motion as you held a hand to your racing heart. You then raised it shakily up to your neck and swiped at the trail of blood there. The wound itself was minor, just a sting, but it was a cold reminder of what could’ve been.

The wait for Jenny and the rest of the team was agonizing.

Beau kept Casey on the ground, facing away from you. Eventually you were able to peel yourself off the side of your car and climb into the driver’s seat, just so you wouldn’t have to keep looking at the man who attacked you.

Jenny and Poppernak arrived within half an hour to haul Casey up and drag him into Jenny's SUV. That allowed Beau to return to your car and tap on the window of the driver’s side. You jolted and looked over to find Beau’s reassuring face.

“They took him. It’s okay,” he said, only a little muffled through the door. You nodded and gestured for him to step back, so you could open the door.

The moment you were on your feet and out of the car, you went into Beau’s waiting embrace. Hot tears welled up in your eyes. You hiccupped and struggled to breathe steady, but Beau held you tight and soothed a hand over your hair, down your back.

“It’s over, honey, I promise. I promise I’ve gotcha,” he said quietly in your ear. You nodded and let his warmth seep into you.

“I’ll take you home, okay?” he said. “We’ll get your car tomorrow.”

You sucked in a trembling breath.

“Please,” you agreed. “Take me home.”

“Am I going to have to testify in court?” you asked.

Beau held you close in your bed later that night. You two had dinner together and had been rewatching old episodes of Friends to take both of your minds off what happened today.

Beau reluctantly nodded in answer to your question.

“The ADA will probably ask you to, but…you can say no,” he said. “I’ll back you, whatever you decide.”

“No, I want to,” you said, even though the thought made you tremble inside. “That animal belongs in a cage.”

Beau silently agreed with you. He admired you for your vehemence, and your courage to even say that you wanted to testify against Casey.

Beau laid a gentle kiss above your brow and continued to rub your back. You both had the blankets up to your hips with a bowl of popcorn balanced between his thigh and yours. He moved it over onto his nightstand so he could curl you more securely against him. You raised your head to consider him thoughtfully.

“Why were you on campus?” you asked, as it finally occurred to you. “How did you know I was still there?”

“I thought I could catch you after your last class, so I went up to your office to see you,” he said. “But you weren’t there. A receptionist was on her way out though. She saw you head out a little while before, so I booked it back down to the garage to see if you were there.”

He was never more glad to heed his gut instinct. That was when he’d heard you scream.

The memory made his insides clench. Beau shook his head against the rest of it. He let out a heavy sigh.

“I’m so damn sorry for what happened. You gotta know, all this time, this is what I was trying to prevent,” he said, with pain written on his face. “But I’m also sorry that I shut you out. You and Em. I just didn’t know how else to keep you out of this. After what happened this summer…I wasn’t gonna let that happen again.”

With tears stinging in your eyes, you nodded. You knew now that he hadn’t meant to hurt you.

Beau Arlen truly was a good man, and that was hard to come by.

You shifted so that you were propped up on your elbow, resting on his pillow. You stroked his cheek.

“I understand. And I’m sorry too. I know that your job can be difficult, and stressful, and sometimes dangerous,” you said. “But I need you to talk to me. If we’re going to do this for the long haul, we need to communicate. I can’t be left in the dark like that again, Beau. I just can’t…"

It was your turn to sigh. "It feels too close to what I went through with Michael. Being lied to. Being told what I wanted to hear, never actually knowing what was going on, until it was too late.”

You admitted that last part with a hitch of emotion in your voice, meeting Beau’s eyes. His were full of remorse.

“I know. Again, I’m sorry. I promise, I’m gonna work on it,” he said, nodding. He planned to make it up to his daughter too. He would talk to her tomorrow.

You drew his attention back with the hand caressing his cheek.

“I just don’t want anything like that to happen to us. I love you too much,” you said. A tear worked its way down your cheek. “Beau, I love you.”

Beau grasped your hand, holding it to his cheek. His furrowed expression eased, and his lips slowly turned up into a smile. A true one, hinting at all the charm that was unique to this man. You’d missed that smile.

He dried your cheek with a gentle hand.

“Well that’s good,” he said. “Because I don’t think I’ve loved you more than I do right now.”

You laughed through more of your tears, and let him guide you into a tender kiss. One sparked another, and more, each one more searing than the next.

Beau’s fingers disappeared into your hair, just as your legs tangled themselves between his when he rolled you over, and underneath him, where he continued putting actions behind his words.

He gave you a promise that night, one that you’d both try to hold yourselves to in the morning.

AN: Ahh, I'm soft. This feels like the more "official" end to Take Me Home, though I'd be open to come back to these two if new ideas hit me. But until then, let me know what you thought of this one! 😘

Keep Reading:

Here's a drabble set directly after this one-shot. It's called A Crime of Passion:

Summary: When Beau Arlen decides to “make it up to you,” he’s damn thorough.

▶️ Next Story: A Crime of Passion

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