"I didn't think it would be that easy," he says truthfully. "Not...because of you, or anything. I just..." He exhales slowly, trying to find the right words. "I didn't realize how much I wanted it."
Lee blinks. "Dude, in what universe could that possibly be a good thing to ask someone after sex?"
He rests his chin on the top of Mercutio's head with a sigh. "I was trying to arrest a criminal. She caught me off-guard, tortured me, made me help her take another agent hostage and then shot me in the head. Good enough answer?"
"Mmm." He settles back against the pillow, thinking.
"The guy I was working with when I died," he says hesitantly. "The one I had to help the terrorist capture. I blamed him for my death, when I first came here. I told him it was his fault for not doing anything to save me...It wasn't his fault, though."
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After a moment, he reaches over to stroke Mercutio's arm.
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He grins.
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"How did you die?"
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He rests his chin on the top of Mercutio's head with a sigh. "I was trying to arrest a criminal. She caught me off-guard, tortured me, made me help her take another agent hostage and then shot me in the head. Good enough answer?"
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"Yeah, well, it's over with now." He stares at the ceiling, lost in thought, absently stroking Mercutio's hair.
"How did you die?" He knows, of course, but he wants to hear Mercutio's interpretation of it.
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"The guy I was working with when I died," he says hesitantly. "The one I had to help the terrorist capture. I blamed him for my death, when I first came here. I told him it was his fault for not doing anything to save me...It wasn't his fault, though."
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