A surprise attack

It was a surprising experience, walking alongside Dean in nothing at all. Yes there was the eroticism that came with it, but there was more to it. Dean had been very kind, very understanding with me. He didn't laugh, he didn't mock. His questions seemed genuinely interested in me, and he found ways to connect himself to what I said. I felt a bit bad that I had only really talked about himself while he made the effort. If we did go on more dates, I would have to try harder in the future.

After five or ten minutes of walking, I had let my head rest on his shoulder, while his hand had lowered onto my hip. His thumb ran little circles over the bare skin there, but no more than that. I was fairly sure my Natural sticker didn't cover public sex either, and besides. It was one thing to do it in an abandoned parking lot, it was another to do it in the middle of a decently crowded park.

It was enough attention as it was, and I was happy to lean into Dean a little more. Even as we reached the entrance again, I wasn't sure if I wanted this to end just yet. We broke our embrace and he held my hand as we looked at each other.

"So..." I said softly.

"So." He agreed.

I took in a deep breath, butterflies swirling in my stomach. I was trembling all over and I was fairly sure Dean could see that. He placed his free hand on my cheek and kissed the other one. That was it, a soft kiss that barely lingered. My knees nearly gave out on the spot.

"I'd like to see you again." He said.

My mouth was dry and I swallowed, "Y-yeah. Me too. Maybe... God, I don't even know. I've never done this before. What do we do?"

He never got to respond.

There was a sound of tires screeching, of metal crunching. Asphalt cracked and we both turned in time to see a trio of monstrous dogs come barreling towards us, with a familiar motorcycle chasing behind them. I recognized the dogs, and the people riding them; the Undersiders, a small time gang that normally specialized in robberies and occasional turf wars. They weren't top tier villains, but they were just competent enough that most of the gangs decided they weren't worth the trouble of fighting.

The motorcycle belonged to Armsmaster, leader of the Protectorate. Which meant the Undersiders had fucked up.

Dean shoved me out of the way of the dogs in time for one to barrel over him. I hit the ground and barely had time to yell after him before one of the riders jumped off in front of me and pointed a gun at my face.

A tall slender women with long blonde hair, and a vulpine grin. She wore a skintight lavendar costume with black stripes, and her bottle-glass green eyes sparkled with a knowing malevolence in them. I had read about all the Undersiders members, and I knew this one; Tattletale, their resident thinker and strategist.

"Well, well, well. The Director of the Wards. You'll be coming with me ma'am. A little leverage to keep Armsmaster off our ass, I think."