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Bobby knew he had a little bit of a uniform fetish--which was inconvenient at best and embarrassing at worst, especially when faced with cops--but despite the occasional flirting between him and Jody, they had never took any steps past that.
Of course, the night he was trying to sleep off a spell that left him feeling off-kilter and a little drunk was the night Jody had to come out to his house, in her uniform no less. Just his luck.
“Can I do something for ya, Officer?”
She smiled-- god that’s a cute smile-- and shook her head. “It’s just Jody right now. Clocked out before I came here. Just wanted to let you know that we finalized everything with the case, and the vics are in the hospital.”
“That’s great. Hey, where are my manners, do you want a beer? Coffee?”
“Coffee would be great, thanks.” He left to restart the coffee machine, Jody trailing behind. “Are you feeling okay? I don’t know what that spell did, but I don’t think anything from that coven would be good.”
He didn’t look her in the eye, irrationally worried that she would be able to tell what was going on if she saw his face. The coffee pot was strangely fascinating right now. “Yeah, everything’s fine. Little shook up, but nothin’ I haven’t dealt with before. You know how it is.”
“Is that why you haven’t been able to look me in the eyes all night? Come on, Bobby. We’re both adults here. What’s going on?” she asked, trying valiantly to catch his gaze.
Whether it was the spell or the years of flirting, he would never know, but he really didn’t feel like lying right now.
“I’ve, uh, I’ve just been feeling a little...pent up lately.”
She narrowed her eyes into a scrutinizing look, a face he’s seen her turn on criminals countless times before. “Do you think I haven’t noticed the way you stare at this uniform?”
God. He blushed, hoping the red was covered up by his beard.
“Though I may be living in a small town, I am by no means innocent. You, Bobby Singer, have a uniform fetish, don’t you?”
He rolled his eyes. “Well, you caught me,” he grumbled under his breath. “The guy who routinely fakes being in the FBI has a...” he blushed again. “A uniform fetish. Who coulda known.”
“Come on, Bobby, it’s nothing to be ashamed of. I’d be surprised if you were completely vanilla, to be honest.” She grinned coyly. “Right now, I think I’d like to see how far that blush goes. What do you say, Singer?”
And that comment sent a rush of blood south. Aw, hell.
Still able to keep his mind clear--the only sexual benefit of aging--he nodded decisively, stepping forward in an attempt for a kiss. She grabbed his wrists in one small hand, however, twisting out of the way and dangling her handcuffs in front of him.
“But first, on the charge of being an unending tease, you are under arrest. You have the right to remain silent.”