RICKMAS 2024

Perhaps it was unwise to leave Harper to her own devices, but large rewards weren’t made on small bets. His first stop upon return was the cellar. Karl had found the breach with ease, a small trap door tucked into the corner where the overhead light couldn’t quite reach.

“Well?” Hans asked, crouching at the edge to get a better look. Karl had to hunch over, mindful of the haphazard support beams imbedded in the hard packed dirt. Purposefully shining the beam in Hans’ eyes, Karl climbed the ladder.

“The first branch off is about a hundred meters away. She took the left passage, the right’s collapsed.” Karl looked behind Hans’ shoulder. “Where is she?”

“Considering my offer in the comfort of her home,” Hans answered smoothly.

“You left her alone?” Karl growled, his tone usually harsh given their usual dynamic. Shaking his head incredulously, he lit a cigarette. “You’re playing with fire, Hans. No pussy is—”

“I advise you to stop while you’re ahead, Karl.” Hans’ eyes narrowed, all warmth from his kiss with Harper evaporated as he pulled the ledger from his coat’s pocket. “Despite what you believe, the wrong head is not in control. As it stands now, she and I are at an impasse. Her crimes are contained here.”

Irritation simmered beneath the surface, but Karl would come to heel. He may not agree with Hans, but they’d run through the gauntlet together many times over, earning a degree of respect and trust for each other. Crossing his arms, Karl sighed and dipped his head in supplication.

Returning to the living room, Hans eased into a recliner, ready to see just how deep Harper’s crimes went. Theo passed his a handful of printouts, spanning Harper’s life in addition to the extensive information regarding the Moonshine King. Many articles revolved around successful rescues, one was a nod to Harper’s placing first in a cross country race during school. She looked so happy, triumphantly holding her first place medal in front of the camera. But that light in her eyes dimmed the following article, her father’s obituary. Even at her graduation from medical school, the light remained noticeably absent.

However, this Moonshine King proved interesting. Local news painted him a “redneck Robin Hood,” the town’s opinion of him polarized. The piece announcing his death coincided with the final entry in his ledger. Harper was indeed in charge of leading their safe passage that night, and by extension partially responsible for the death of three federal agents. 

But Hans noticed something else, a key piece of information Harper missed in her haste. She wasn't the only young person employed by the Moonshine King. Hans requested Theo use his particular skillset to delve into the county database itself. Another idea formed in Hans’ mind. With any luck, they could kill two birds with one stone. 

The emergency room buzzed with a chaotic zen Harper Slaughter had long since grown accustomed to. Beeping monitors, the chatter of nurses, the hum of fluorescent lights, with the occasional grenade of grievous injury tossed in to spice up the night. This was where she thrived, a storm of urgency balanced by her steady hands and clinical detachment. Yet today, that balance felt off.

Hans Gruber’s words haunted her, his offer swirling in her mind like smoke in a closed room. A way out. A fucking job! The audacity of it had shaken her, yet the allure had struck deeper than she cared to admit. It was more than the offer; it was the man himself—sharp, magnetic, and impossible to ignore.

She hadn’t answered him. She couldn’t. Not when every instinct screamed that Hans was dangerous, his intentions as layered and unpredictable as his accent. Yet, against her better judgment, she considered.

A TV droned in one of the patient’s rooms, the news replaying clips about Nakatomi Plaza. Harper kept her head down, drinking stale coffee and scribbling patient notes, but her ears caught every word.

“…the daring heist and hostage situation that left law enforcement scrambling…”

“…an unknown group of criminals who infiltrated one of the most secure skyscrapers in Los Angeles…”

“…the mastermind still unaccounted for…”

Her pen stopped mid-word. The details matched too well. The polished demeanor, the strategic mind, the latent danger simmering beneath his charm. He hadn’t been full of shit. He’d spoken the truth.

“Can you believe it?” one of the nurses commented, laughing as she passed. “Poof, just like that. Disappeared. Man, the FBI’s botching this one bad. Half the mountain’s rooting for these guys.”

Another nurse chimed in. “Yeah, but they killed people. Ain’t genius—it’s evil.”

Harper forced a neutral expression, nodding along under the expectant gazes. “I guess so,” she murmured, her tone as bland as her coffee. Inside, her nerves frayed like a rope under strain.

“What I wouldn’t give for one or two of them bearer bonds,” the security guard chuckled.

The shift dragged on, and just when she thought she might find a moment’s peace, the automatic doors slid open, revealing Brad swaggering in with another man limping alongside him.

“Dr. Slaughter!” Brad called, his grin wide, as if their latest interaction never happened. “Got a special delivery for ya. FBI agent managed to break his ankle chasin’ shadows.”

Harper’s stomach dropped, though her face betrayed nothing. She straightened her shoulders and walked toward them, a professional mask firmly in place as she led the agent to a wheelchair.

“Let’s get ya checked out, sir.”

The agent, a wiry man with sharp features and piercing eyes, grunted as he sat. His badge gleamed on his belt, the sight of it sending a chill down Harper’s spine. She recognized him—Agent Tomlin. He’d been like a dog with a bone where the Moonshine King was concerned, always too close for comfort.

Brad excused himself to chat with the front desk after the x-rays, leaving Harper alone with Tomlin.

“Well, well,” Tomlin greeted, mock politeness oozing from his Tennessee drawl. “It’s Dr. Slaughter, now? Color me impressed.”

Harper remained silent, palpating his swollen ankle.

Tomlin smirked, leaning back against the gurney. “Funny how someone with your history ended up here, playing Florence Nightingale. Small town, small hospital, small ambitions.”

Harper’s hands stilled for the briefest moment before she continued wrapping his ankle. “I’m just doing my job.”

Even though I’d like nothing more than to twist your damn ankle further.

“Of course you are,” he said, his voice dropping to a murmur. “But I wonder—does anyone here know what you used to do up on that mountain? What you were willing to do to keep the Moonshine King’s operation running smooth?”

Her jaw tightened, but she refused to look at him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, come on, Harper,” he said, leaning forward despite the wince it caused him. “You think the past stays buried just because you want it to? Especially when people like me don’t stop digging.”

She finished the wrap and stood, taking a deliberate step back. “You should stay off that ankle for a few days,” she advised mechanically, ignoring his veiled threat. “I’ll have someone get you a set of crutches.”

Tomlin’s smile held no warmth, his eyes narrowing. “I’ll be around.” His tone laced implication and loathing. “And I’ll be keeping an eye on things. Including you.”

“Our tax dollars hard at work as always.”

Harper turned on her heel and left the room, her pulse pounding in her ears. Her chaotic sanctuary of an ER couldn’t soothe her now. As she returned to the floor, she caught sight of Brad laughing with a nurse, oblivious to the storm brewing just beneath the surface.

In the back of her mind, Hans’s offer lingered. I can pull you out. And that kiss. Only in his sturdy arms, with his lips pressed against hers, did all the worries crowding her mind silence. Making out with a fucking criminal. And only because she craved the solace Hans Gruber could offer, Harper decided to take a trip to the Nelson house after her shift. 

The rising sun cast twisting shadows on the pavement. This was the right thing to do, Harper told herself. Hans had to leave before Agent Tomlin stumbled on the case of his career and Harper had to play it cool for the duration of the FBI’s visit. She couldn’t bear for Hans to get caught in this dragnet.

The Nelson house loomed, quiet and nondescript as ever, its aging frame blending into the misty mountain’s embrace. If anybody was home they were still asleep, though Harper suspected Hans was an early riser. Erring on the side of caution, she knocked even though Hans strolled into her house as if he owned the damn place.

The door cracked open, revealing a hazel eye devoid of any warmth and the barrel of a gun. Surprise flickered across Hans’ features as he opened the door. Standing in a perfectly ironed shirt, the collar unbuttoned and sleeves rolled up, Hans quirked an eyebrow, calm and collected as if he wasn’t the most wanted man in the country. Something about the sight made her heart gallop and mind slow down.

“Hello, Doctor.” The words were pleasant, but his tone contained a mixture of danger and promise. A predator toying with his prey. “A house call? I’m flattered.”

“We need to talk,” Harper muttered, pushing past Hans. Fuck, he didn’t have to do a damn thing and he still exuded a masculinity capable of bringing Harper to her knees. She cut her eyes to the living room in question.

Hans shut the door, leaning casually against it as he watched her pace the room. “They’ve already gone,” he said, his tone unhurried. “There was one loose end to tie up, but now they’re on their way. I trust they’ll be back in Europe before the day’s end.”

Her breath caught, and her hand tightened into a fist at her side. “What do you mean ‘loose end’? What’d you do?”

The flicker of fear in her eyes didn’t escape him, and for a moment, Hans felt a pang of something foreign. Guilt, perhaps. Concern. He stepped forward, closing the distance between them in measured strides.

“Nothing you need to worry about,” he said softly, his voice low and reassuring. “Nobody was harmed.”

“That’s not—” She broke off, looking away, her arms wrapping around herself as if trying to shield against the chill in the room.

“Harper,” Hans said, and there was that rare tenderness in his voice now, the one that made her believe everything would be okay. He reached out, his fingers brushing her arm. It sent a shiver down her spine. “Look at me.”

Reluctantly, she did. Her eyes were wide, her walls crumbling in a way she hadn’t anticipated. “The FBI is here,” she said, her voice trembling despite her effort to stay composed. “They’re back to look for more evidence to nail me, and they’re going to find you if you don’t leave. You can’t stay.”

He didn’t flinch, didn’t even blink at her words. Instead, he stepped closer, his hand sliding down her arm to her wrist, holding it lightly. “Is that all?”

Her breath hitched, and she tried to pull away, but his grip was gentle yet firm, keeping her rooted in place. “Is that all?” She asked incredulously, her voice sharper now, almost defiant. “You’re in danger!”

Hans tilted his head, his gaze unwavering as he studied her. “The danger is always there, Harper. I’ve made peace with that. But you…” He stepped closer, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “You are something unexpected. Something I can’t quite let go of.”

She swallowed hard, her heart racing. “You’re insane.” The words sounded hollow even to her own ears. No, Hans was firmly in control in every aspect of his life.

His hand slid up, brushing her hair back from her face, his touch as deliberate as his words. “Am I?” he murmured, his dark eyes searching hers. “You feel this too, don’t you?”

Harper’s breath came in shallow bursts now, her pulse roaring in her ears. She couldn’t trust him, but also couldn’t deny the pull he had over her, the way his presence seemed to fill the room, making it impossible to think straight. With him she felt safe, invincible even.

“You’re dangerous.” Not a complete lie, but in her soul Harper knew Hans wouldn’t harm her.

He smiled, a faint curve of his lips that was equal parts charming and smug. “And yet, you’re still here.”

The air between them grew heavy, charged with an unspoken tension that neither dared name. Harper’s hand slipped from his grip, but she didn’t move away. She couldn’t.

“You don’t have to do this alone,” Hans said, his voice softer now, almost pleading. “You think happiness is out of reach. But I see you, Harper. I see the fight in you, the fear, and everything in between. Let me help you.”

And then his lips found her neck, each nibble a spark. All the fear, all the uncertainty fell away. There was only Hans, his cologne enveloping her senses. It didn’t take him long to discover that ticklish spot behind her ear, nor his his hands, his warm large hands, to creep under her shirt.

“Shall I stop?” Hans murmured, his thumbs  softly tracing patterns against her hips. 

“No,” Harper moaned, pulling back to take him in. Hans’ distinctive hooked nose looked regal in the weak lamplight, like a king from some long ago empire. Wordlessly, he pressed his lips to hers once more then led her up the stairs.

Only in Hans’ room did Harper realize she still wore her scrubs from the night before. Her underwear wasn't anything cute either, certainly not good enough for Hans.

“You are exquisite,” Hans whispered, gently removing her top. “Sit.”

Powerless to object, Harper sat on the edge of the bed. Hans admired her for a moment, ignoring the bulge in his trousers. The perfectly coifed criminal mastermind then knelt in front of her, removing her shoes, socks, and pants with a care that belied his larger than life reputation.

Those amber eyes held her captive as his thumbs hooked into her panties. “I could give you everything, Harper.”

He kissed a languid trail up one thigh then down the other like he had all the time in the world. Harper almost objected until he slipped a finger inside her, expertly finding the spot that made her see stars. All that came out was a breathless moan.

“You smell decadent,” Hans growled, his nose bumping her still covered clit. “I have to taste you.”

Harper threaded her hands through his thick hair, canting her hips to his distractions, silently begging him to stop teasing her.

Perhaps tired of waiting himself, Hans slipped her panties off and dove into her folds.

“So wet for me,” Hans crooned, the vibrations going straight to her core, as he slipped a second finger inside her. “So tight.” 

“Hans,” Harper whimpered, curling her fingers in his hair when he latched onto her clit. “Please.” What she was asking her, she didn’t even know.

The familiar tension pooled in her core, begging for release. More attentive than any lover before, Hans teased her, tightening the coil of her pleasure until it snapped in a body wracking orgasm. 

Coming down from her high, Harper ached for more. Hans watched her, licking her desire off his fingers, his eyes wicked. He had yet to touch himself.

“Can I return the favor?”

Hans flicked his gaze to the bulge in his pants then back to Harper. “Tempting,” he purred, slowly unbuttoning the rest of his shirt. “But I confess, it wouldn’t last long.”

Shrugging out of his shirt, a twinge of pain crossed his features. The bruise to his side was now a sickly green swirled with fading purple.

“How did that really happen?”

The lazy smirk he wore so well returned. “Is such information necessary at this point?”

Harper finally got her feet under her and approached him, leading him by the belt to bed. “Tell me and I’ll make it worth your while.”

“A three story fall,” Hans grumbled, more preoccupied by her delicate touches as she undressed him. And then the criminal mastermind Hans Gruber allowed somebody else control. He didn’t argue as Harper gently pushed him to his back. His thick cock jutted upward, weeping precum.

Harper swung a leg over his hips and slicked his cock, taking in Hans’ body. His broad shoulders, sparse chest hair, and a soft but firm stomach. His eyes blazed with seductive magnetism and the groan rumbling in his chest was music to her ears.

“Do you trust me not to hurt you?” Harper teased, enjoying being on top of Hans, figuratively and literally. His composure waned at the delicious friction. So close, but so far away.

“I fear I’ve already died and been denied heaven,” Hans growled, his hands finding her hips again. “If I were at my full strength, I’d have you screaming around my cock.”

Taking pity, Harper granted his release and impaled herself on his cock in one thrust. Seeing Hans’ eyes roll in ecstasy heightened her own pleasure. She forced him to keep a slow place, murmuring “no” and catching his hands when he tried to flip them over. His piercing hazel eyes never left hers.

Soon his hips stuttered and a growl tore from his throat when he pulsed inside her. The intensity of the moment sent Harper over the edge a second time. It almost wasn’t fair. He was handsome, rich, mysterious, had a big dick, and knew how to use it. Carefully, she peeled herself from him, mourning the emptiness she now felt. It wasn’t regret, just time to leave.

“Not yet,” Hans murmured, wrapping his arms around her as she tried to get up. If Harper didn’t know any better, she’d swear he was delaying the inevitable.

“I can’t go with you,” she sighed. “A life like that is too out of reach for me.”

“We’ll see,” he yawned, thoroughly unconcerned as he drew the quilt over her shoulders. She almost laughed at the feeling of him snuggling into her back, but then Hans spoke again. “Nothing is out of my reach.”

That was the Hans she expected. His arrogance didn’t bother her because she knew it was warented.

It was nice to be held as she slipped into slumber. A couple hours later she started awake, not quite sure where she was. Hans was gone, all traces of his time spent here erased except a letter left on his pillow.