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She was losing it. Needing to harden, hating that she was out of control and sloppy, she punched the leather. He needed to apologize. He needed to stop the fucking car and kiss her. She had to slap him. Eve didn’t realize how badly she’d been craving this man.

His heart overflowed with good intentions but his fists felt best covered in blood.

Sometimes you can save someone’s whole world just by smiling at them. Kindness is one of those things that has immense value to the person experiencing it.

But if all this time between them had taught him anything, it was that they were orbiting the same fate. Together, always together, even when physically apart.

It felt real, seeing his friend like that. It was like a gift. He wasn’t into spiritual bullshit, but damn. "Damn. That Mouse had become his friend was a gift, but a curse as well. If he’d left that whole situation alone, would Mouse — would James — have had a better life? A different outcome?

Tell me I’m enough for you,” he demanded. “Can you be with me even though I’m so wrong?” She was satin and warmth. The way she squeezed, he was desperate to move, pound, inject her.She looked at him. “This is. You are. I can’t do this any more if it’s not with you. So please fuck me straight to hell.

I’m never opposed to sexual favors as payment.” He wrapped her ponytail around his fist, leaning close to her ear. “I’m too exhausted to kick your ass. Drop my hair. You know better.

Eve hugged him and whispered in his ear, "Careful. I'm fatal." He needed to remember that warning.He whispered back, holding her hair so she couldn’t squirm away, “Jesus. It’s like you said that directly to my balls.”She laughed so hard at his unexpected reply.

I can’t do this anymore if it’s not with you. Fuck me straight to hell." ~Eve to Beckett