Fandom: Desperate Housewives
Character: Patrick Logan
Notes: Icon Prompt from teamharkness. Takes place during "A Little Night Music." Unbeta-ed so feel free to jump in.
Warning: Gun kink
Summary: Patrick takes care of a little business.
Of course she had a gun in the house. I wouldn’t expect anything less from one of my girls, not even one who broke my heart. Luckily for both of us, I found it first. I’d hate to have to put her through the pain of killing me, and I certainly couldn’t let her stop me before I’d gotten what I came to Fairview for; revenge.
The gun had been well taken care of and was just slightly slick to the touch. I made sure the safety was on and took a deep breath, rubbing the barrel against my cheek, inhaling the faintly acrid odor of gun oil.
It felt good to have a gun in my hand. I’d never set out to hurt anyone who wasn’t an enemy of the planet, but once I’d accepted that it was a war to save the environment, then I knew I had to be willing to fight to the death, and that meant embracing the tools of violence.
I hadn’t really come down from the rush of hitting Nick the Prick with my car. Such a jolt of adrenaline, seeing that bastard hit the ground. How dare he take Angie and the baby away from me? I played the moment over again in slow motion, my own heartbeat rising at the memory.
Something else was rising. I closed my eyes, remember how beautiful Angie had been when I first met her. Young and innocent and willing to do whatever I told her to. Of all the girls who gathered around, she was my special angel. The nights we spent together; hours and hours…I had to undo my pants and reach inside.
Her hands; so soft and delicate. I remembered the first time she touched me, looking like a child opening a present. I’d had to tell her exactly where to squeeze and stroke and yeah…just like that. Not too much. Not yet.
I kept a firm grip on the gun, while I started to stroke. Even when there was no time for anything else, I could always get her to do this for me. Help me relieve the stress of saving the world. Help me show them all….Help me…help me Angie…please..please,… those fucking beautiful hands…oh god!!!
One hand squeezing me, one on the gun, imagining what it would be like to pull the trigger and watch her pay for what she’d done to me. But no, I’d decided there was more than that. She needed to suffer, and I needed to make it happen. It was my mission in life and I’d never turned down a mission.
I got myself wiped off and buttoned up, just as the door opened. She was still beautiful and she was about to get the surprise of her life.