It Happened One Night

You didn't have to look at Miguel to know that he was pissed. Feeling the beginnings of a migraine, you pinched the bridge of your nose and sighed. The tension in the car was so thick, you could cut it with a knife and serve it as a dessert option at the 'Cheesecake Factory'. 

"It's legal." The lawyer had looked over the license thoroughly, before glancing between you and Miguel over his glasses. You'd winced when you heard the wood crack from the death grip Miguel had on the chairs' poor arm rests. They'd never stood a chance against his irritation.

"Scott, seriously? Are there no loopholes?" You bristled at Miguel's insistent tone. A small part of you bristled at that. Resented it even. You knew it was silly, but having it aired out in the open, out loud and everything, really made you think, and right then, it made you think that strangling your new husband seemed like a perfectly logical next step. The man, Scott, pushed his glasses up his nose and pursed his lips before sliding the paper back across the table. 

"I don't know what to tell you, Miguel, it's a legally binding license. You two are in the eyes of the law, married. Miguel's jaw had tensed, and his gears seemed to be turning. 

"Annulment, then?" The words had you sitting a little straighter. Scott shrugged and began rifling through one of his desk drawers. 

"That's certainly an option we can look into, it hasn't been more than 48 hours yet, if we go ahead and start the paperwork," 

"No." Both men froze and looked at you, stunned. 

"No?" Miguel's voice was low, and it held a note of warning. 

After that, you'd shut down entirely, refusing to meet Miguel's cold glare. That poor lawyer, Scott, couldn't have gotten you out of his office fast enough. He'd practically herniated a disk in his rush to usher you out of the office before Miguel could murder you on his nice clean carpets. He'd given you a halfhearted smile and discretely shoved something into your hand. 

Glancing down now you saw that it was a marriage counseling pamphlet with a sickeningly bright yellow smiley face plastered on the front. You easily crumpled it in your fist with a snort. 

"What?" Miguel's eyes flicked momentarily from the road to you, gaging you suspiciously. You bit the inside of your cheek to keep from saying something snide about his grating tone. 

"Nothing." You said woodenly, shifting to look out the window. It was quickly becoming apparent that the man was impossible. He seemed hell bent on getting his own way, and that arrogance, you could probably smell it even if you were standing up wind of him. You sensed that Miguel was about to explode, but thus far he'd managed to keep his cool, he'd even offered to drop you off at your apartment. The bare minimum. The snide thought wormed its way into your mind, and you shook it off with a tired sigh. "You turn here." 

The sound of a turning signal, and he turned silently onto your street. 

"You just passed it." Your tone was dull as you tapped the glass slowly. You could hear Miguel exhale, before his over tired, irritated voice followed. 

"Why didn't you say anything?" He grumbled, fingers tightening into the pleather of the steering wheel. You stiffened and shifted to glance at him over the shoulder. 

"I forgot." 

"You for-" He choked on the words, and turned at the stop light, whispering rapidly in Spanish under his breath. Reaching the top of the street again, he slowed when you tapped the glass and brought the car to a stop. Putting the car in park, he cut the engine and turned finally to study you. You couldn't see his eyes behind those stupid shades, but you felt his glower, nonetheless. When he didn't say anything, and just continued staring at you, you began fidgeting in the seat. 

"Why are you looking at me like that, it's weird." Still nothing. Now your ire was being peaked. Two can play this game Mr. Piss Pants. You thought dryly and folded your arms. "And what's up with the shades anyway? I'd get it if it were sunny, but it's overcast at best." You gestured out the window for emphasis. Still nothing. He. Just. Sat There. Narrowing your eyes, you leaned forward just a little bit. "You know, I bet you even wear them at night, just to be contrary. Seems like something you'd do." A muscle ticked in his jaw. 

"I think you're being petulant, just for the sake of being petulant." He said blandly. This time, it was your jaw that ticked. Without another word, you wrenched the car door open, and slammed it shut. Without looking back, you stormed up the steps of your apartment, fishing into your pocket for your keys. 

Miguel leaned against the frame of the car and dragged a hand through his hair. You were being stubborn. He was too irritated, too tired, and too jet lagged to deal with this right now. And the way your hips twitched when you were angry wasn't helping the situation any. Sighing, he ran a hand down his face in exasperation and grabbed the purse you'd forgotten and followed you up the stairs. Without a second glance back at him, you left the front door open. Realizing that this was the only invitation he was going to get, Miguel followed you inside, closing the door soundly behind him. Turning around, you looked up at him and raised a brow. 

"What now?" His eyes narrowed as he looked down at you in irritation. Cocking your head slightly you smirked and shrugged. 

"Oh, nothing, I'm just wondering if you plan on wearing the shades indoors as well." Your smirk widened, and Miguel felt his eye twitch. "I know how blinding fluorescent light bulbs can get, but I never considered sunglasses. Guess I'm just conventional like that."

He knew you were goading him. He knew that. But that didn't change the fact that it was working. His ire was peaked, and he knew he was on the edge of snapping. Miguel slowly removed the sunglasses and placed them on a small table next to your purse. He turned to look at you, his eyes dark with warning. Miguel took a step forward, you instinctively took a step back, and lowered your eyes. A large hand cupped your jaw, and you flinched, waiting for the impact. 

When none came, you raised your eyes to see Miguel staring at you intensely, but his attention seemed to be focused on your cheek. Gently he brushed a thumb over the swollen area, and you bit back a hiss. Honestly, until just now, you'd almost forgotten the welt Todd had left on your cheek. It seemed; however, that Miguel hadn't failed to notice it. 

"Did he do this often?" The concern laced in his tone rattled you. When was the last time you'd been spoken to like that? You couldn't remember. And that thought alone brought a flush of shame to your cheeks. Your jaw clenched, and you forced yourself to meet his eyes. You weren't going to start being weak now. He watched as your eyes shuttered before you shrugged. 

"I didn't keep track." A lie. Of course, you recalled every time he'd hit you. And of course, you recalled every time you'd hit him back. Your stomach sank. And this time you'd almost killed him. He deserved it, a part of you rose up to cry, but the lion's share of your heart still didn't believe that. It wasn't that you were in love with him, honestly you couldn't unequivocally say that you'd ever been in love with, Todd. No, it was simply that there was still a part of you that valued human life too much to truly wish death on any person. No matter how shitty they were.

Miguel watched you clearly warring with your emotions. It was obvious that there was something deeper going on, and he wasn't certain he wanted to get involved. However, he couldn't silence that protective inclination from roaring to life at the sight of that welt. It made his heart burn to see a mark like that on your skin. You might have a smart mouth, but no one deserved to be touched like that, let alone you. 

Not when there were such prettier marks you could be wearing. His thumb stilled over the welt, and he stiffened. Where had that come from? 

Unfortunately, you chose that moment to look up at him to speak and found your words drying up at his expression. Your breath stalled at the heat burning in his eyes, and you shuddered. His eyes tracked your face, before dipping to observe the subtle dip in the hollow of your throat as your breathing grew shallowed. Slowly his eyes rose to meet yours. Had someone broken in and turned up the thermostat in your absence? No, that didn't make any sense. But you couldn't find another rational explanation for the increasingly oppressive heat in the room. 

Miguel brought his other hand to cup the other side of your jaw and cradled your face gently between his hands. Tilting your head back slowly, he inspected the mark, willing himself to ignore your thundering pulse, or the way you subtly shuffled closer to him. 

"You said you hit him with a shovel?" He murmured, leaning in closer under the guise of examination, but his eyes wandered back to yours. Searching his eyes, you found yourself getting lost in the almost burnt sienna hue of his eyes. Your mouth opened a little and you nodded. Miguel's eyes creased at the corners at your dumb expression, and he hummed. 

"Knocked him out, cold." You forced out, unable to string any more words together. 

"Good." His eyes seemed to shine with approval, and his lips lifted at the corner. You knew you shouldn't thrill at this imposing man's approval of your assault on another person, but you practically preened at the simple praise. Your eyes shifted to consider the rest of his face. He had good bone structure. Really good bone structure. In a thousand years, you were certain that archaeologists would have a field day with his skeletal remains. 

You shook yourself free of that morbid thought and let your eyes trail to his lips. Closing your eyes, you leaned even closer, basking in his masculine scent. The hints of redwood, his own perspiration, and the lingering traces of bourbon proved to be a heady combination, and you had to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from sighing audibly. His nose glided across your cheek, and you groaned. One hand slid to the nape of your neck, and he kissed your jaw. 

"Miguel... we can't." You whispered, warring with your body as your head began to swim. He merely grunted and turned his head to rest his forehead against your temple. 

"Why not?" His fingers played with a curl at your nape that had escaped your bun. "We are married." He teased softly. Your jaw clenched, and you felt that prick of irritation again. 

"Not for long if you get your way." You bit out. Pulling back, he considered you. Eyes narrowing, he released his grip on your neck and stepped back. Sighing heavily, you pinched the bridge of your nose and propped a hand on your hip. "I don't know about you, but I'm a mess, Miguel. And I'm exhausted." Your shoulders slumped as you said the words, and you looked up at him in exasperation. "Something tells me that neither of us is in a good head space right now." 

"You sound like a psychologist." His lips twitched at the corner. You forced a tired smile and let out a dusty chuckle.

"I could be, but then again," Your eyes took on a teasing light and you shrugged. "Maybe I'm an internation art thief, there's a lot you don't know about me, O'Hara." Your teasing tone wasn't lost on him, but neither was the grain of truth in your words. When he stopped the think about it, reality came railing into his gut. You were a stranger to him. And he was a stranger to you.  Clearing your throat, you broke into his thoughts. "Maybe... we should take a few days to get our bearings, yeah? If you're half as exhausted as I am... we really aren't going to accomplish anything right now."

His shoulders tightened. Miguel wanted to argue that he could indeed accomplish several things in his present condition and was more than ready to very physically prove that point, if given half the chance. However, considering the stubborn set of your jaw, he saw that chance growing slimmer. 

"Okay, doc." Turning, he grabbed up his shades and the jacket he'd cast off when he'd entered and turned to look down at you once more. He fought to keep his face neutral as he considered you once more. You were fighting so desperately between irritation and timidity so stubbornly that it was almost adorable. "Just one question." You raised your eyes to meet his as he put on the shades again and raised a brow. Leaning closer again, he lowered the shades, and you watched his eyes light with amusement. 

"What's that?" You fidgeted and inched back, casting your eyes away from his. Miguel's merely creased at the corners once more as he kept his features and tone neutral. 

"How are we going to touch base?" He deadpanned, looking down at you with a raised brow. 

"I don't know, call me?" 

"I can't exactly do that without your number, can I?" Your eyes flashed at his smug tone. His brow twitched and his eyes danced. Scowling, you huffed and turned to rifle through your purse in irritation. Miguel folded his arms and watched you with a faint smile. You furiously scribbled your number on a post it note and shoved it into his hand. 

"There, asshole." You mumbled the last part under your breath, but with his superior hearing, he'd heard. Pretending he hadn't, Miguel tucked the post it into his pocket and pushed his shades up the bridge of his nose. "I look forward to our next argument." You said dryly, as he opened the front door. He paused with one foot out the door and glanced back at you. 

"It'll probably be a doozy, doc." He closed the door on your exasperated huff, and as he descended your front steps, you didn't bother to call him back to retrieve the wallet that had slipped out of his jacket pocket.