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Seth Gecko is many things.
He's stubborn, sure. He's brash and reckless, granted. He's a good shot, maybe even the best in his precinct.
That last one depends on who you ask, though. (Kisa would probably beg to differ.)
But one thing Seth Gecko isn't, is oblivious.
Oh, yeah. He knows.
He knows exactly what people are thinking when they see him and Kate together.
Look, he's fully aware that the beard makes him look closer to thirty-nine than twenty-nine, all right? Whatever. He doesn't fucking care. He likes it. It makes him feel like himself, so fuck Tanner and anyone else at work who gives him shit for it.
(He'd say fuck Scott for giving him a hearing aid for Christmas, too — but, if he's being completely honest, it was kind of funny. He was even the slightest bit proud of the little punk.)
Either way, it's not Seth's fault that his girlfriend looks so young.
… Okay, fine. So maybe Kate is young.
Maybe when they'd first met, even he hadn't been able to guess that she'd been a hell of a lot closer to graduating college than high school.
But he would just like to state, once and for all, and for the fucking record, that his girlfriend, Kate Fuller, is not fucking jailbait.
It's just something about her particular combination of large green eyes, fair skin and delicate little bow-shaped mouth, all topped off with a shiny mass of dark, Disney princess-y hair. All of that would probably have been pretty incriminating to begin with.
Throw in the fact that she's practically hobbit-sized, and, yeah, he can definitely see why people tend to look at him like he's fucking Humbert Humbert when they kiss in public, or hold hands.
Honestly, he's fine with it. The dirty, judgemental looks, the murmurs and whispers, the pointed glances and the contempt behind the veiled insults — he can deal with all of that.
Seriously.
Although, to be fair, it's probably only thanks to Kate. After meeting her, he's surprised to find that the well of his patience runs a lot deeper than he'd thought it ever could. He's not sure if it's the light pressure of her fingers on his arm, or the comforting sound of her voice that works miracles at soothing his nerves. Something about having her around just reassures him that it's not always strictly necessary to flat-out punch loudmouthed assholes who insist on flaunting their self-righteous opinions in his face.
Also, he's just got neither the time nor the energy to give a shit what anyone else thinks — especially not when he's got a fucking queen like Kate Fuller on his arm. That's the thing that deserves his full, unreserved attention, no matter what.
But it's never really occurred to him that when it comes to dealing with the holier-than-thou judgements of strangers, his girlfriend — his compassionate, kind, patient girlfriend — might be dealing with some issues, too.
Right now, though, standing here in this shitty little convenience store with her — he'd say that it's starting to occur to him a little bit.
"He's still staring," Kate grumbles, replacing the pack of Oreos she's been pretending to inspect back onto the shelf.
Seth blinks, before angling slightly towards the counter for a quick glance at the elderly storekeeper, frowning at them over the edge of his newspaper. "Oh, yeah."
He hadn't even noticed, to be honest. How the hell could he? His girl is wearing a pretty little dress and her favourite scuffed up Converses, with one of his shirts thrown over on top, the sleeves rolled up and the tails knotted loosely around her waist. She looks cute as fuck, and he's not about to let some asshole in a convenience store distract him from that.
"Well, it's rude," Kate insists, deliberately turning her back on the storekeeper as she pretends to be browsing further down the aisle.
Seth grins, yanking slightly on their intertwined hands to slow her down. "You're the prettiest thing in the entire store, babe. Poor guy can't help but stare."
She rolls her eyes, but willingly leans into the kiss he plants on her temple. "And here I thought it'd be impossible to find cheese even staler than the one in the last aisle." She taps a finger to her chin, looking for all the world like she's comparing the prices of candy bars marked on the shelves. Seth knows for a fact that she's still glaring at the storekeeper out of the corner of her eye, but he can't bring himself to decide on whether it's more endearing or intimidating.
She makes a noise in the back of her throat, the half hum, half growl she always makes when she's particularly annoyed. "He's not even trying to at least pretend that he's not staring."
Seth holds back his own huff of exasperation, releasing her hand so he can sneak his under the waterfall of her hair, his palm curving over the back of her neck. "It's fine, Kate," he says, keeping his voice low. "Remember Thanksgiving? If we could get through two whole hours of both your Aunt Lindas at the same dinner table, princess, we sure as hell can get through this one guy. Easy."
Kate exhales, and he turns his body towards hers, grateful for the way she melts against him. "Fine. Okay. Let's go."
He leads the way over to the counter, setting their few purchases on top for the elderly storekeeper to scan. Leaning over, he grabs a pack of mints to add to their small pile. "That's it. Thanks, man."
To his surprise, the man scoffs at his last minute addition. "Think you're getting lucky tonight?" he says, gesturing towards the mints.
Seth narrows his eyes — but he feels Kate's hand tense in his, so he clears his throat and shakes his head impassively. "Funny," he deadpans, injecting a good dose of nonchalant boredom into his tone. "If you don't mind, we're kind of in a hurry."
The elderly man keeps scanning their items at the same torturously slow pace, his slitted gaze sliding down to their joined hands. He coughs, a painfully transparent attempt at getting Kate's attention. "That's mighty nice of you, young lady," he drawls, his mouth twisting in the parody of a kind smile. "I wish my little niece would come visit me from time to time. All you kids these days — don't ever have any time to spare for your relatives no more, do you?"
Kate pulls herself up straight, the way Seth knows she does whenever she's getting ready to sock it to him.
"I'm sorry," she says, the timbre of her voice edged with ice and ringing clearer than usual. "You must be mistaken. My boyfriend and I aren't related." Her lips press together in a thin line. "Obviously."
Well. She has a point, he supposes. From the contrast of his olive complexion to her pale one, his thick brows to her slim arches, the sharp edges of his jaw to her rounder chin, they couldn't possibly look any less alike.
"I certainly must be mistaken," the elderly storekeeper says, barking a false laugh. "You'll have to excuse me, sweetheart. S'not every day you see such an—" his derisive gaze sweeps over Seth before flicking back to her, "—an unorthodox combination."
"How much is it?" Seth cuts in, already flipping open his wallet in his haste to be over and done with his current situation.
Kate deliberately leans over the counter, one of her hands curling lightly around his arm. "Oh, hang on, babe, I just remembered — we're fresh out of condoms, actually." She peers up at the old man behind the counter, the corners of her mouth turning up in a cool smile. "We'll take a box of those, too. The Magnums, please."
Seth just barely manages to refrain from choking audibly, swallowing hard before he can make a sound. His elbow tightens in on himself, trapping her hand against the side of his ribcage. "Kate—"
She sighs, leaning easily into his side. "I know, I know. You're right."
With a blithe flip of her hair, she turns back to the storekeeper and smiles wide. "Make it two."
The door barely manages to swing all the way shut behind them before he's already pulling her into a hard kiss, his free hand wrapping all the way around her waist to hitch her up against his body.
"God, I love you," he breathes against her lips, diving in for another quick peck before letting her slide free.
She laughs, taking his hand in hers and before to pulling him along the sidewalk. "I know. Come on."
He lets himself be dragged along, blinking after her as he readjusts his grip on the bag of their purchases. "What's the hurry?"
She throws him an exasperated look over her shoulder. "What, did you actually think we were picking up the extra condoms just for kicks?"
His mouth hangs open in unabashed shock — and then he breaks into a small jog, lengthening his stride so that he pulls ahead of her.
"Come on, princess," he commands, now tugging her along instead of the other way round. "Hurry up with those little dwarf legs."
She gasps in insulted offense that's really only partly feigned, but the punch she lands to his shoulder makes him grin anyway.