Paige is a survivor. (paiging) wrote in blackpoint, @ 2014-08-03 22:08:00 |
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Entry tags: | paige, vernon boyd |
who Major Boyd and Paige Rivera
what Drinks, some awful karaoke, and a fade-to-black~
when Saturday night
where Hawaii
status Complete!
Paige had elicited a promise of drinks from Major Boyd on a few occasions, but they’d both been so busy that finding a time had been a challenge. He’d been sent off to serve, and she’d been swept up in things at the station and in finalizing all of the remaining adoption details. The constant stream of Teen Wolf kids meant a lot of extra paperwork to get them noted and written down, but Paige didn’t mind. Really, all of her work in all aspects of her life felt like so much progress. She’d done well for herself back in Beacon Hills, to be sure, but there was definitely something to be said about being able to do so with even more openness and with far less devastation.
Of course, work wasn’t at the top of her mind right now. Malia always was, certainly, but she was largely focused on the constant stream of drinks and on watching the handsome, very impressive soldier singing karaoke onstage in such a way that so many of the kids would probably pay money to see. She grinned and laughed and hollered when necessary, finding it all so fun and perfect and genuinely enjoying herself. He was so, so amusing like this, though she thought he was pretty hilarious regardless. Everyone deserved the chance to let loose, even fancy Majors.
She applauded as he finished, ordering another round of drinks as promised and extending his to him as he rejoined her with a grin. “For a job well done, Major,” she said. “I can’t decide if I ought to suggest you try a music career or not.”
After coming to Hawaii when he was younger, Boyd had spent the majority of his time protecting people in one way or another. Having Erica, Isaac, and Cora back alive and well had been a blessing, and he wasn’t going to waste the opportunity. He had watched them move past the events of the show and settle down with people to love and take care of them, but he still had kept a close eye on his pack. Perhaps it was a latent guilt about not being able to save Erica in the bank vault all those years and a lifetime ago that made him keep a close eye on her family, but he had realized that seeing them together and whole was a priority of his.
That feeling had transferred into his career as a Marine. He took great pride in being a part of an organization tasked with keeping the nation safe from threat, and it had never bothered him that it took away from time for himself. He was comfortable being shipped off to serve - even if each time took its toll due to the high risk nature of his particular missions (never one to waste a resource, the US government was pretty keen on using his werewolf talents to the best - and highly classified - of their abilities.) Boyd had been lucky to come home each time whole in body and mentally sound after some debriefs, and he didn’t take that blessing lightly. The kids that kept pouring through needed him, so he used that as an incentive to come home each time.
However, his duties kept him from having a lot of time to enjoy things for himself. Bantering back in forth with Paige online was a nice reprieve from his duties, and while he would have liked to spend more time in person with her they both had obligations that came first. That made him pour a bit more cheese on their karaoke performances when they were together, her laughter making sacrificing his normal dignified composure worth it. He didn’t hold back on singing both the lead and backup vocals of the Queen song that he had chosen, even throwing in the guitar solo for good measure. These people didn’t care as long as he didn’t sound too much like he was howling at the moon, and the drinks in their system made their applause come all the easier.
Boyd headed back to their place at the bar when he finished, his white teeth flashing in the murky light as he basked in his karaoke glory. He took the beer Paige was offering him with an appreciative, deep laugh in the back of his throat and toasted her with the glass before taking a sip. “Thank you, thank you,” he said after swallowing, bowing in her direction. “I think I’ll stick to my day job, Officer. I don’t think America’s quite ready for me to take my show on the road.”
Paige’s life here was far less dangerous than it’d been at home, to be sure, and definitely came with less risks than Boyd’s did. She had her own set of responsibilities, though. In addition to her actual work, she had Malia, and that was an entire job on its own. Actually being with her and building their relationship had been the easy part, because she loved Malia so much it was actually a bit startling. However, there was a lot that came with being an adoptive mother. There were still little checks and things that happened and she had to make sure that everything with the courts stayed current. She’d never envisioned herself becoming a mother, to be honest, but being one had come so naturally. At least on an emotional level. The rest was taking some settling in, but she was so overjoyed to be in that position.
Those days between the moons were always Paige’s best. Her body felt normal and even her scarring seemed a lot less overwhelming. She tried to time more of their opportunities to hang out on these days, wanting to be as pleasant a person as she could be. She enjoyed spending time with him, even if it was a bit interesting to have such a bantering, frankly flirtatious relationship with someone she knew as his younger self back home.
She grinned as he joined her, the laugh drawing one from her as well. She toasted him back, nodding to his bow, and drinking from her own glass. “You’d have such a gimmick, though. ‘Werewolf soldier turned lounge singer.’ You’d be a hit.”
“At least I’d have a sizeable guaranteed fanbase,” Boyd bravely agreed, teasingly shaking his head at the thought of all of the various Teen Wolf kids that now lived among the various Blackpoint refugees. They’d had a field day seeing this. A second groan followed, this time slightly dismayed as he thought of all the fan attention from the general public that it would garner. There were times that he forgot that he was reliving his past in the height of the show’s popularity. He kept a low profile due to his military career, but there weren’t many other Vernon Milton Boyd, IV’s around to direct the attention off of him. He could only imagine the looks of devious glee on Scott and Erica’s faces as the fanmail started coming in again.
He nodded towards the front of the room where a younger woman had taken the stage, valiantly attempting to cover an Alanis Morissette song. “What kind of mood are you in today?” he asked, doing his best not to wince when the lady tried to growl in the microphone. “I’m hoping that we’ll get a Pat Benatar encore.”
“And a ravenous one at that. I think Selena Scottie would be the president of your fanclub, with little Melissa at her side,” she said, grinning. Between the hoard of actual Teen Wolf kids plus the vast array of show fans, it would’ve been an utter nightmare to actually do any of this. She’d shown a few of the kids the videos and pictures purely because they were hilarious, but she’d never put that sort of thing on something unsecure. Sending Boyd any more viral than he already was would be awful. She was lucky enough that her character was fairly short-lived (literally and in episode terms) and was barely remembered beyond being a source for Derek Hale’s manpain. It made it easy to go through the day.
“You’ll have to get me a little drunker before you start making requests, Major,” she commented, laughing. “I’m feeling a little Dolly, but I need to finish this beer first.” She was drinking about half of what he was, if only because it took him a hell of a lot more to get even close to her level, compliments of the werewolf thing.
Boyd shook his head, scrubbing at his cheeks in embarrassment. The girls' attentions were flattering, but a bit alarming at the same time. He was comfortable in his own skin, but he just saw it as that. It was no secret that a lot of the female teenagers found him attractive, and much to his own horror he had overheard little Melissa comparing him to a Disney prince after Scott warned him that it was happening. Joking and hearing it firsthand were two different things, and the knowledge that Melissa wasn't the little werewolf who clung to him during the fulls was a reminder that he wasn't a young wolf any more.
"I come back from a tour and you complain that you aren't drunk enough," he rumbled, turning to signal the bartender. "I'm not feeling too chivalrous right now, so drink up." He focused on the woman who had appeared, ordered Paige another drink to loosen her vocal cords, and finished off his own drink before speaking again. "Remember, I need to make some blackmail footage of my own so I don't have to keep twisting Parrish's arm when I need a file."
Paige didn’t deal with nearly as much of that as Boyd did. She was at an age where the boys weren’t so much younger than her, so there wasn’t that playful banter about her attractiveness in the same way that there might’ve been otherwise. Most of her relationships with men were like that with Parrish, so more like a sibling. And then there was Derek, who only ever looked at her with whimpering apology.
“I lead a very hard life, Major Boyd. Don’t you get sassy with me,” she teased. She finished the beer in her hand before the new one arrived. “Good luck with that. We both know I’m a quality performer, so blackmail isn’t likely.”
“I’m feeling pretty lucky tonight,” Boyd told her, wrapping his long fingers around his beer and cradling it against his chest as he leaned against the bar as he tried to take up as little room as possible. It was pretty much a lost cause; genetics, werewolf abilities, and military training had shaped him into a sizeable man that didn’t compact against walls or into airplane seats easily. He was the brawn of the group, able to do the heavy lifting physically and emotionally as needed, and it only ever played to his disadvantage when he tried to keep drunk women’s heels from stabbing him in the toe.
He eyed her, trying to gauge where she was in her cups, and switched out his empty glass for a full one of his own. “I hear ‘hard life’ and then you laugh at me, so forgive me from not going easy on you tonight. I’ll bet you a round of drinks that you’re too tortured to willingly sing a top fifty pop song.”
“Is that so?” she said, laughing. “You know, that same statement from any other, less gentlemanly man would be quite a line. Unless, of course, Drunk Major is a bit saucier.” She observed the way he tried to make himself take up less space, but she knew just as well that he stood know chance of successfully doing so. He was such a broad man, and that was such a lovely thing. “I’d expect no less,” she said. “So you’re betting me that I won’t sing something in the top fifty?”
"Are you implying that I'm not allowed to be ungentlemanly from time to time?" Boyd retorted, a brow arching up in question. "I can let my hair down if the urge hits me." For Boyd not to be the gentleman was about as likely as his bald head suddenly sprouting hair for him to let down, but he did have a playful side that he let out every now and then. It had taken him a bit of time to develop it - circumstances earlier in his life had made it necessary for him to grow up fast - but as he had grown into his skin it had started to emerge. "Not just something. It has to be a pop song that the kids are torturing us with these day."
Paige’s eyebrows lifted as well and a grin curved across her face again. “Now that is intriguing. And seems awfully far-fetched. I’d bet money that you aren’t actually capable of being anything but a gentleman, in playful words or otherwise,” she said. Paige herself had spent a lot of time without a sense of humor as well, largely due to the fact that she spent at least a few days every month in the crippling pain of becoming a werewolf without the actual transformation of doing so. In her adult life, though, she’d gotten her playful spirit back. “Have you got suggestions, Major?”
"Everything's possible," Boyd informed her, toasting her with his drink before knocking it back. He had lost count of how many he had had so far, but he had consumed enough where he could feel his inhibitions starting to unravel. It took an unholy amount of booze to send him over the edge - he still shuddered at the bar bill from the last time he had been drunk - and he wasn't fond of losing full control over his senses. After all, at the end of the day he was a werewolf and he couldn't bear the thought of losing so much self control that he accidentally hurt someone if he took what someone was saying the wrong way.
He tapped his fingers against the battered wood of the bar, running through songs he had heard Scottie belting around the apartment when she thought she was being cute. "There's only one real choice here," he said, schooling his features into a very serious expression. "It has to be that frozen song."
“Everything? We’ll see,” she responded, grinning. Paige’s own mind was a little fuzzy around the edges, and she’d been pacing herself in time with his drinking so that they’d mirror each other. She didn’t want to end up so drunk so fast that sober Boyd felt like he had to take care of her instead of enjoying himself. She’d dropped some of her own cash on the bar throughout the night to help keep the bill from being quite so awful at the end of it all, too.
Her eyebrows lifted at the suggestion and she tossed back the rest of her beer before grinning and standing. “On it,” she said, and moved to the stage. Her rendition of “Let it Go” was a hot mess, and not only because she was drunk, but most of the bar chimed in, so it ended up being a rousing group number instead of a solo. She ended with a ridiculous note and a power stance before bowing graciously for her applause and returning to him victoriously. “Done and done.”
Boyd hollered along with the rest of the bar as they applauded Paige’s theatrical performance, his teeth flashing brightly against his dark skin as he grinned. He admired her free abandon and ability to rise up to the dare. It hadn’t been that horrible as far as challenges went - karaoke was a staple between the two of them and bets like these weren’t out of the ordinary - and she had performed admirably. He pocketed his phone when she drew near, the moment forever captured and safe in his pocket, and jokingly tilted his head as his face screwed up in a dramatic semblance of pain. “I think you hit some notes there that only dogs can hear,” he joked, stepping to the side so she could reclaim her barstool. “What can I get you?”
Paige knew that she’d be recorded, and she knew that it was just one more counterweight to all of the dirt she now had saved in the memory of her phone where he was concerned. With the alcohol in her system, she was unbothered by that fact. She took her seat, reaching to push against him at his ridiculous face. “Only for you,” she teased back to her wolf companion. “Surprise me.”
Boyd reached out as she pushed against him, steadying her with a hand on her back. “I didn’t know I’d have to bring the wolf to the bar,” he said, a trick of the light making his dark eyes seem to glow as he smiled at her. He turned his attention back to the bartender for a moment, and a few moments later her was sliding a Kamikaze towards her. “Try that and tell me what you think.”
Paige was sure that her push would do nothing, and found it amusing that he reached out to stabilize her in the aftermath. “Can’t leave home without it,” she responded, grinning. “It’s that animalism. Can’t get rid of it. And you shouldn’t.” Her eyebrows lifted when he ordered the drink. She nodded as he handed it to her, taking a long drink of it before pulling away, laughing a little. “Oh, I like that. Lord, it’s going to hit me like a ton of bricks, though.”
Boyd turned so he was looking directly at Paige at this, intrigued. “If I didn’t know better I’d think you were calling me feral,” he pointed out, an eyebrow arching up to invite further explanation as she tipped her head back. He nodded, satisfied that he liked her choice, and knocked his own back. While it wouldn’t hit him as hard as it did her, he was starting to feel fuzzy around the edges as the copious amount of alcohol started settling in his system.
She could feel the alcohol coursing through her, but she already had enough in her that it just mixed in. She’d definitely feel it in the morning, though, but she couldn’t be concerned with that at the moment. “You could look at it that way if you wanted,” she said, grinning. “I think it’s more that you’ve been animalistic for so long that it’s become a part of you. You embraced it, and made it work for you. And now, somewhere under that dashing Major calm is a passionate animal.” And then she laughed. “My words aren’t great, but you know what I mean.”
Boyd ran his thumb around the rim of his glass, thinking back over what he had done in his career as he considered her words. What she was saying wasn't too far from the truth. He worked hard to keep himself calm and more along the gentle giants when it came to the people from back home, but there were times where he had given in to the wolf inside him while he was out in the field. There was a reason why what he did was considered classified, and his werewolf tendencies were a big part of them. It was something similar to how he had acted after being in the vault for months without moon exposure but now with added military grade equipment.
"You're becoming awfully philosophical for someone with all that alcohol in her system," Boyd teased, rumbling deep in his chest, "so if I start growling at you to lighten up you'll have to excuse the passionate animal."
Paige knew what it was like to have those sorts of things bubbling just under the surface. In her case, there was no release for it. Every month, she had the ripping pain that should’ve accompanied a shift, but it never broke free. She’d had to learn herself how to deal with it and make peace with it, but it was much harder to be okay with. The negatives far outweighed any positives, after all. But it was her lot in life, as the bite was his. They made do.
“What can I say? Even a body full of liquor can’t keep me down,” she said, grinning. “I can certainly do that. It’s been awhile since I’ve been properly growled at anyway.”
“No? That’s a shame,” he joked, leaning closer to her so he wouldn’t be overheard by those around him if the music suddenly dropped. Paige’s grin was infectious, and for a brief moment Boyd’s eyes glowed blue that had nothing to do with the murky lighting in the bar. He reached up and pushed some of her hair behind her ear and emitted a low growl, keeping it short and to the point as not to draw too much attention to them at the sudden rolling noise. “You should know better to challenge me, Paige.”
“It is indeed,” she responded, that same lightly challenging tone in her words. The glowing eyes were a give away of what was to come, but even still, there was something very stirring about the way he pushed her hair behind her ear and growled that low, deep sound. It sent a little jolt through her body, cutting even through the haze of the alcohol. “Should I? But having you meet them is so intriguing.”
Boyd caught Paige's reaction to his growl, and a small, secretive smirk appeared on his face. Part of him was distantly surprised at the physiological response, but the animalistic side of him that she had hinted at earlier was pleased at the response. He continued to rumble as he pulled back, this time from suppressed laughter instead of a growl, and stopped so he was still close enough to her that he didn't need to raise his voice much over the music to be easily heard. "Is that right? And what makes it so intriguing to you?"
That smirk was lost on her, given their positioning, but she heard the continued sound and could take that as a sign that he was pleased by the reaction she’d had. She grinned at the laughter, shrugging a shoulder at his question. “I find that seeing these other sides of you is pretty fascinating,” she responded. “It’s interesting to see a different side to you than the buttoned-up soldier.”
Boyd gave her thigh a squeeze and backed off, reaching for his drink. He wasn't the only one to have felt a jolt at their proximity, and he used the few seconds to get his own telltale eyes back under control. They were back to their normal dark brown when he fixed them back on Paige, and he adopted an air of nonchalance as he addressed her confession. "Not many people get to see past that buttoned up facade," he told her, pointing the neck of his bottle at her in a mock salute, "so if you ever have any questions about that side let me know."
Paige actually felt genuine disappointment when he backed away, the tension that had built nearly to a point starting to ease as they separated. She couldn’t tell if she’d had too much to drink or what, but she definitely was feeling a little breathless, and her heart was racing just a bit, something she knew that his werewolf hearing would likely give away, but his chivalrous nature likely would keep him from mentioning. (Though, she’d seen more of the passionate side, so who knew.) “I’m not even sure what sort of questions I’d possibly ask,” she responded, laughing. “I think that side is better explained through the growls.”
Boyd bumped his leg against hers, keeping it pressed against her thigh as he reached over to set his beer back down on the bar. He had heard her racing heart and quick breathing and gave them both a little time to recover. No, he wouldn't mention it aloud. He knew Paige's history with Derek and didn't want to accidentally force her back into some memories, but there was a part of him that wanted him to do nothing more than to see if her lips still tasted like the Kamakaze shot she had thrown back not too long ago. "Those answers would be a bit repetitive," he said, a bark of laughter escaping him at her answer, "but apparently highly effective."
The press of their legs together was just enough to keep her a little on that same heart-racing edge, though she could settle some without him so close to her ear. She’d have been surprised and a bit amused to learn that the thought of Derek had even crossed his mind, because he was the furthest thing from hers. His impact on her life had been immeasurable and overwhelming, from the scars, the pain, her eye, and everything else that went along with her attack. He’d nearly ruined her life – he’d nearly ended her life – and she certainly never forgot that, but she didn’t do all that much thinking about him on most occasions. She had better uses for her time. But Boyd was terribly sweet and such a gentleman for considering it. “I wouldn’t say highly,” she said, grinning, that same challenging tone returning. “Moderately, maybe. Decently effective.”
"Wow. Decently effective," he repeated, a hand going over his heart as he theatrically played up the insult. "Ouch. I'm going to have to do something about that." His mind spun for a moment, acknowleging the bait and finding a suitable way to deal with it, before he decided to throw caution to the wind. She had expressed an interest and thinly veiled challenge earlier to see the more animalistic side of him, so Boyd sat his drink down on the counter and moved closer to her. He dropped his face to the sweeping curve of where her neck met her shoulder and slowly made his way back up to her ear, letting her feel rather than hear the low growl this time. "That should warrant an upgrade."
“Decently,” she said, shrugging nonchalantly, playing along with this game they’d started playing. “You’ll have to try, but I don’t know if it’ll work.” When he surged closer again, she felt her breath catching, and the actions he took certainly did nothing to make it any calmer. God, this side of him was perfect. “Mildly effective,” she practically hummed in response, still challenging.
"I've got a tough audience tonight," Boyd observed, his exasperation mainly for show. He paused for a moment and traced the shape of her ear lightly with his lips and going quiet as he focused on the sounds she was making in response to what he was doing. There was nothing to indicate that what he was doing was unwanted - quite the opposite, really - and while he couldn't tell if it was primarily the alcohol talking he knew Paige was still in enough control of herself to keep up with their normal challenging banter. So far he hadn't gotten a knee to the groin or tazed, so he had to be doing something right. His hands settled on her hips and he turned her so she was facing him instead of the distant stage. "Am I going to get any helpful hints about how to get another upgrade?" He asked, putting the ball back in her court.
“No one has ever called me easy, that’s for certain,” Paige responded, teasing. She felt that little grazing of his lips and very much wanted more along those lines. What he was doing most certainly wasn’t unwanted, and she was more than content to be turned as she was so that they were facing each other. She adjusted to settle one hand against his thigh, the other pressing against his broad chest. “I’ve never been one for hints,” she said, even if her body language most certainly said otherwise, and she leaned in so that there was barely any room between them anyway. “If you want that upgrade, you’re going to have to take it yourself.”
"Is that right." Boyd picked up on the contradictory way she arranged herself, and fought against the urge to shut his eyes against the giveaway glow that he knew they must be emitting. He had years of experiencing how to control his outward werewolf signs, but he owed it to her to be truthful like she was being to him. He could smell the lime juice from the shot still on her as she leaned closer, and that was enough to make up his mind on what to do about the upgrade. He reached a hand up and threaded it into her curly hair, lightly preventing her from backing up, and closed the few inches between them by placing his lips on hers.
Paige hadn’t admitted any sort of attraction out loud until Lydia had brought it up, but that had only been a few days ago. It was still on her mind, therefore, and perhaps that was part of what was driving this. Lydia had suggested she offer a nudge, and she’d responded that she preferred these things to be a bit more natural, rather than artificially provoked. The way he responded was exactly what she’d been hoping for, and she met his lips with a pleased hum.
Boyd couldn't help the smile that curved his lips against hers as he felt her hum of approval. He wasn't a stranger to all of the small comments that had been directed to him about Paige over the past few months, and he would be the first to admit that he thoroughly enjoyed her company. However, neither of them had given the other the sign that there was a possibility of something more than a comraderie underlying their motives for seeing the other and their bantering hadn't been fully charged. Until now.
He pulled back and let his hand slide back to rest on the bar. "Do I finally get an upgrade?" He asked, his voice more gravelly than usual.
Paige hadn’t been looking for anything like this when she’d first arrived, especially when Malia had come into her life. There was so much to be done where the girl was concerned, to get her settled in and on a productive path. Then the sheriff had started the new unit, and that had preoccupied her as well. And then, of course, there was the Nogitsune stuff that the kids were handling, which was a distractor. At the moment, though, that charge was much too much to deny or ignore, and she had no intention of doing so.
“Definitely effective,” she responded, grinning, her own voice a lot warmer than it’d been before. Her hands stayed where they were, still facing him. “Though, there’s still some room for improvement.”
"I've heard that repeated trials are the best way to help with that," Boyd agreed, brushing back her hair and bending back down to her.
Boyd had too many obligations the count that normally kept him from acting on things he wanted to do for himself. He had his duties not only to the country but to the kids that kept pouring in, and trying to keep them all sorted and supported was a second job in itself. Life as a bachelor hadn't bothered him greatly and he wasn't a stranger to the way women saw him, but rarely did he act upon a charge like this. Paige, unlike most other people, knew where he was coming from and could understand what was going on inside his head.
“That’s usually the case,” she agreed, smiling against his lips as they met again. Paige hadn’t had any sort of contact like this since her arrival here, and before that it’d been a bit longer. She was focused on her career and on the work she did as a part of it, and that didn’t typically mean much time for anything more. It’d been so long since an attractive man had kissed her, and she felt a bit starved as a result. That, mixed with her genuine attraction for Boyd and the alcohol in her system, sent everything a little further. She wanted more. “You should come home with me,” she said when they parted again, a grin on her lips, her eyebrows lifted.
Boyd had been a lone wolf for many years. There hadn’t been someone steady in his life since breaking things off with Caroline in college, and what he had done back home didn’t leave much room for a serious relationship. His life was too unsteady and numerous times he had been reassigned without much notice, but that didn’t mean that he had lived like a monk. Still, this was the first time for him as well since he came through the portal that he put aside his responsibilities to others and focused on something that he wanted to do. “Are you sure?” he asked, hands sliding to her hips and giving them a slight squeeze. He was pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to back out of the offer she extended - he didn’t want to - but it was in his nature to double check. “Because I’d like nothing better than to follow you back tonight.”
Her hands, which had still been rested against his thigh and chest, slipped to fold around his neck. Asking him to come home hadn’t been her intention when she’d come out this evening. There was a part of her that briefly considered Malia as well, but she knew well enough to know that Malia would’ve figured it out even if they’d not gone back to their place. Animal instincts. (Plus, she thought Malia was off with the boy Kira watching a movie anyway.) “Very sure,” she responded, and it was the truth. For a long, long time, Paige had shied away from intimacy because of the sheer intensity of the scarring on her side and some self-consciousness because of it and the situation that had led to it. She didn’t trust as easily as she once had. She’d gotten to the point where it hadn’t mattered as much, but the casual encounters tended to leave the more unknown men with seemingly more of an opportunity to balk at the blemishes on her skin. She’d had too many dirtbags over the years who’d said something about it, who’d been grossed out and put off by it, and she’d had to toughen up as a result. Boyd already knew, though. He’d not seen it, perhaps, but he knew what was there in theory, and he’d seen the darker side of the bite already himself. “I want you to come home with me,” she said, making it very clear for his sake. “Actually, I want to leave here now and go.”
“Now’s as good of a time as it’ll ever be.” Boyd had told a few people that he was going out to Hawaii to visit Paige, and normally he would take the time to spend the night on someone’s couch so he didn’t have to drag a teleporter out of bed for the return trip to Hawaii. His absence wouldn’t raise any eyebrows, but sooner or later one of the kids would puzzle things out. However, he wasn’t thinking much about that at the moment. Right now he was focused on the woman in front of him and what the rest of the night had in store for them. He leaned in and pressed another kiss to her lips, lingering for a moment, before breaking away in order to close their tab. “Ready?”
Paige grinned, collecting her things and pulling her bag over her shoulder as he settled out their tab. She moved to her feet, meeting his lips when he pressed down, and nodded in response to his question. “Absolutely.”