Connor was regretting agreeing with Rite's suggestion they get a drink after work, as she shambled back to the booth and sat next to him, instead of on the other side. Typically he headed home as soon as he was done, but Donald had left him a message saying he'd be working late on a case. He'd hit a few snag in building the defense for his client, and the trial was in a few days.
So he'd gone with Rita to the bar a block from the station. It was a place popular with the officers, so it was busy, but they'd found a booth, and ordered a drink each. Then she'd gotten a second, and a third, while they talked about nothing in particular. Connor nursed his one drink because he'd be driving.
During their conversation, he couldn't shake the sense she was working herself up to something. He didn't mind waiting, but as Rita's speech began slurring, he became concerned. After her third beer, she headed to the bar and came back with something fancier, and harder, he suspected. She finished that quickly, and Connor suggested they should leave, but she got up, no longer quite as steady on her feet.
This was when she slid into the booth next to him.
She pressed close against him. "You saved my life," she whispered, making eyes at him. Her slurred words ruined the husky tone she was trying for. "I'd have been dead if not for you." She took a long swallow of her drink. Something in a tall glass and he could smell the alcohol coming from it. She looked at him again. "I love you, you know that, right?"
He wanted to move away, but he was pinned in the corner. He knew. Her crush had been evident from early on, and he'd made it clear he was happily married, not to mention gay. Rita had been okay with it, at least that's what she'd said, and other than a few longing glance she sent his when she thought he wasn't looking, she hadn't done anything about it. Until now.
She put a hand on his thigh and squeezed. "You really should give us girls a chance, you know. We can rock your world."
Connor chuckled nervously and moved the creeping hand off his lap. "Trust me, my world rocks plenty already."
She leaned up and put a hand on his chest. "You got no idea what I can do." she chuckled and rubbed his pecs. "You have such muscle definition." She tweaked one of his nipples.
He almost stood, trying to get away from her. He grabbed her hand and pulled it away. "Okay, I think you've had enough, Rita." As gently as he could, he pushed her back. "I'm going to drive you home." She slid to the edge of the bench, and almost fell over, putting a foot under herself just in time. She stood, wobbled, and held on to the table.
He grabbed their jacket, helped her in hers, then kept a hand on her to keep her standing as they walked to his car.
Unfortunately for him, walking back to the station's parking lot gave Rita plenty of time to snuggle up against him, and for her free hand to roam over his chest, stomach...and then his groin.
He moved back in shock, almost letting her go. He remembered to hold her only as she started falling down. He grabbed her hand none too gently when she tried to put it back on his chest.
"We are going to have a talk once you're sober, Rita."
Having her hands held only meant she tried to rub the rest of herself against him. Once at their car, he thought about putting her in the back, but he had a sports model, and she would be jammed against the seats, and even in her current state, he didn't think she deserved that. Not to say that she might decide to reach around him and-do something. He buckled her in the passenger seat.
The drive to her condo wasn't comfortable. As soon as he was rolling, she launched into describing the kind of life she could give him. How she'd provide for all his needs, give him tons of babies, and that they'd grow old together for centuries. Rita giggled as she said she knew people who could make it so she could have his children and others who could extend their lifespan.
Her building was one of the many glass and metal ones around the city center. When Lady Cavanaugh had pushed her vision for revitalizing the city, a century ago, these apartment buildings had been a large part of it.
He'd found out living here was expensive the first time he'd driven Rita home after work. She'd blushed as she explained, without him asking, that the condo had been her parents' and that the only way she could afford to still live there was that her grandfather had set up a trust fund to pay the exorbitant maintenance fee.
The passenger drop-off zone was wide, lined with flowers. The walkway to the door was pink and brown stones, and on each side, two feet of white sand had swirled, and circles raked in it. She'd stopped talking for the last ten minutes of the drive, and as he pulled her out, he had to hold most of her weight. He considered carrying her in his arms, but the through of her hands dangling down made him nervous.
The guard, a human, still fit even with his advanced age saw them through the glass door and came to open it. Rita had introduced him at some point, but Connor didn't remember his name.
She protested as Connor handed her over to the guard, proclaiming he had to help her to her apartment so she could thank him properly for saving her life. The guard shook his head at her behavior, and Connor left to go home.