Dora's was sandwiched between a tattoo parlor and a pawn shop. "Here? Really?" Jim grimaced.
"You're going to love it," Blair promised, hopping out of the truck and drumming his fingers restlessly against the hood while Jim made sure his wallet and badge and gun were all where he wanted them to be.
"I don't want to have to arrest somebody while we're at lunch."
Blair didn't dignify that with a response, just went inside. Jim followed.
The blast of air-conditioning washed over him. He took a breath: beer and tortilla chips and grease.
Half a dozen deer heads stared down at them, unblinking, festooned with faded Christmas wreaths. They sat at a booth near the door.
"Muñoz told me about this place," Blair said. "Supposed to be the best lunch place you've never heard of."
"You sure he wasn't just fucking with the rookie?"
"Fuck you," Blair said cheerfully, as their waitress walked up.
"What can I get you boys?" She was stocky, about fifty, with a chipped front tooth.
"A burger, well-done, all the fixings," Jim said, and handed back the laminated menu, which was sticky to the touch. "Iced tea, please."
"Enchiladas for me," Blair said. "And iced tea."
"You want onions or jalapeños with that?"
"He doesn't," Jim said, smiling at her sweetly, and took Blair's menu out of his hand to pass it back.
"I hate it when you do that," Blair grumbled once she'd left, though without rancor.
"You eat those raw onions, I won't be able to sit in the truck with you," Jim pointed out.
"What about jalapeños?"
"Too spicy," Jim said.
"Not for me, they're not. How did you ever eat Peruvian food?"
Jim shrugged, leaned back in the booth, folded his arms (it made his biceps look bigger) and smiled. "Your choice, Chief. Eat those peppers and you won't be kissing me for days."
The waitress came back and slid their glasses of iced tea across the table, beaded with condensation.
"Well, when you put it that way," Blair said. He was looking down, fiddling with his silverware, but Jim could see the heat pinking his cheeks.
This thing between them was so new Jim could hardly believe it was real. But Blair met his eyes now, and the promise in them was so plain it curled Jim's toes.
"So after lunch," Jim said. "What's the plan?"
"I thought we might walk for a while," Blair said. "Check out a few bookstores on Pier street?"
"Hot out," Jim said. "We have air-conditioning."
"What, you want to go home, take a siesta?"
"It's our day off," Jim pointed out. "Why not?
He'd never done this with Carolyn: finding some unknown restaurant, then going home to fuck in the middle of the afternoon. But Blair was grinning, and it made Jim want to do dirty things to him.
"I could live with that," Blair said.
"It's a plan," Jim agreed, and leaned back to wait for what came next.
(500 words)
The End