I glanced once more at myself in the mirror, my reflection revealing the obvious nervousness that I felt.

'First date in a decade and it just had to be with an angel.'

Although the long jagged scar split the width of the right side of my face, I couldn't help but admire that I was quite the attractive man even with it. I studied myself slowly, carefully avoiding catching my own gaze. The blue depths haunted me whenever I found myself staring into them - the pain below the surface far too easily distinguishable.

My sandy hair was a mess, though coupled with my neatly trimmed beard it gave me an almost shaggy look.

I was half-tempted to comb it but thought otherwise. Being more beast than man, why not at least look the part, I thought with a grin.

With the long sleeve shirt Hayden had picked out and a pair of dark denim jeans, I grabbed my jet black leather jacket to complete the ensemble as I headed out the front door.

Just as I pulled up to the curb outside of Hayden's house she emerged. I was thankful that she had listened to me; looking comfy yet sexy in a pair of frayed and faded jeans with a light beige cashmere sweater that came down to just above her midriff - revealing the hint of her toned abs to my hungry gaze.

I honked lightly as she made her way down the path towards the car. Her eyebrows knit together in slight anger, throwing her hands up as if to say 'What the hell!'.

"You didn't need to honk, I was coming." She grunted as I leaned across the center console to push open the door for her.

"I know," I replied as she slid in. "But I enjoy annoying you."

"You can be such a dick."

"Ooo, first compliment of the night."

Ignoring my sarcasm, she said "I still can't get over your car."

"What's wrong with my RAV?" I asked defensively.

"Nothing," Hayden was quick to answer. "I just figured you Army boys would leap at having a Charger or, like, a Corvette. Something fast and flashy." She shrugged.

"That's something a freshie would do. I don't need to draw attention to myself. I'll have a beautiful woman at my side to do that for me."

Hayden appeared to melt in response to my words, her head tilting slightly against the headrest as she regarded me - a goofy smile spreading even as her eyes softened.

"Aw, Gray."

"Keep that between you and I. Have a reputation to maintain after all."

"Oh, of course." She answered, pretending to lock her lips before throwing away the key.

I chuckled softly as I pulled away from the curb, reaching over to clasp Hayden's hand in my own. She quickly intertwined our fingers, pulling it into her lap. I could see her smile of pleasure as she glanced down at our hands, her thumb stroking along the back of mine.

"You look quite beautiful this evening, Ms. McDowell." I said softly, meaning every word. Although the only makeup she wore appeared to be a hint of eyeliner, she had straightened her hair - the chestnut locks appearing glossy even in the dim lighting of the car.

"You look quite handsome yourself," She smiled, her eyes glinting with approval as she gave me a once over. "But where are we off to, Mr. Shaw?"

Glancing quickly away from the road, I answered "To Caledonia."

Her surprise was apparent, "Caledonia?"

Nodding, "I know of a nice little restaurant there. I checked online and they are still open. But first I have something planned that I believe you will enjoy."

"Oh, you brought condoms?"

With wide eyes I turned towards her, my eyes only narrowing once I quickly noted the smirk plastered upon her face.

"Keep teasing me and I might have to pull over just to put you over my knee." I growled out, the thought of my hand print darkening her ass cheeks causing my cock to lengthen in response.

"Promises, promises." She replied, dismissing my threat with a shake of her head and a smug smile.

---

As I pulled into the parking lot twenty minutes later, Hayden turned to look at me in obvious surprise.

"A shooting range?"

I smiled softly, "I think you will enjoy it. Shooting a gun can be quite exhilarating."

"Like, at people?"

With a frown, "Maybe not that exhilarating..."

Her grin emerged once more, "Gotcha."

I shook my head as I shouldered the door open, my loud exaggerated sigh only earning a bout of laughter from my date.

I quickly took Hayden's hand in my own as I rounded my car, leading her towards the front door and to the first stop of our date.

"Jesus Christ, Gray. How the fuck are you, my man?"

I grinned as I took John's proffered hand, giving it a firm shake.

"I'm doing well actually. How about you?"

His grin mirrored my own as he spread his arms out wide, gesturing to the racks of weapons behind him. "I'm living the dream, brother."

Nodding, I turned towards Hayden. "Hayden this is John. He served in the Army as well. He was a weapons technician."

"I made sure all the guys' toys were cleaned and efficient - so they could do more pew pew, and less jam jam." John explained upon seeing her slight frown.

Not giving us a chance to speak, he continued in a more somber tone. "I heard through the grapevine about what happened to your squad. I'm so sorry. What a fucking bureaucratic mess. Those fucking politicians sent you boys in to die."

"Hayden is Dalton's younger sister..."

John winced as he turned towards Hayden, "Sorry." He mumbled softly.

Hayden smiled softly, though it didn't quite reach her eyes I noticed. "It's okay,"

I knew it wasn't okay. The pain still lingered there. One just had to know how to look for it.

Turning back towards me, John asked with a more jovial tone "I'm guessing you're not here to catch up?"

"Unfortunately not. We are actually on a date and I figured I would show her something she likely has never done before."

"Have you ever shot before, missy?" John asked Hayden.

"Does a Nerf gun count?"

His laughter was harsh, like that of sandpaper. "Might I advise she start with the Uberti 1873 Cattlemen?"

I sighed loudly, drawing Hayden's gaze. "Yes, because I want her to dislocate both her shoulders. How about we get her to crawl before you expect her to run?"

The man offered me a sheepish smile and a shrug. "Can't blame a guy for trying. The rounds are $5 a pop after all. Have to do something to pay the bills around here!"

"An Uberti 1873 is an old revolver style pistol. It fires 357 Magnum rounds. The recoil can be quite difficult to control given the amount of grain - the weight - of the bullet itself." I explained to Hayden.

"Oh," She frowned, glaring daggers at John even as the man attempted to appear innocent. "What's the easiest?" She asked as she glanced back towards me.

My eyes surveyed the racks behind John, smiling as I spotted a favourite.

"Let's get her started with the Springfield 1911," I pointed at the black pistol - the sleek design appearing almost sexy in nature.

"Ah, the Range Elite Officer Operator is a good choice." John agreed as he retrieved it, doing a quick press check before laying it flat on the counter. "And for yourself?"

"You know me," I smirked.

"Creature of habit." The man grunted as he turned back towards the rack. "No variety."

I grinned as he returned to lay the Sig P210 beside the Springfield 1911.

"How many rounds are you looking to shoot?"

"Do you have 9mm in 115 grain?" I asked. Seeing the man nod, I continued, "We will take five-hundred rounds then."

"Five-hundred? Isn't that a lot?!" Hayden exclaimed, eyes wide.

"No, not really. Why? Do you think we will need more?" I asked with a smirk.

Hayden had the grace to blush, looking far too cute as she waded further and further out of her comfort and into mine.

"How much will it be?" I asked as John set the box of rounds beside the two pistols, retrieving my wallet from my back pocket.

He quickly held up a finger before turning back towards the rack once more, pulling several drawers out before announcing his success with a triumphant 'ah hah'.

Laying two pairs of safety glasses and protective ear wear beside the pistols, he waved my question away. "This one's on the house."

"John..."

He shook his head, "Don't even try to give me shit on this one. It's on the house. Now get out there before I give you nothing but blanks."

Giving the man my thanks once more, I took the two pistols and the box of ammo as Hayden grabbed the safety equipment.

I heard her offer the man her thanks as well before I led her towards the range.

"This is called the Weaver Stance," I said loudly as I went about fixing Hayden's posture. "It is probably the most popular shooting stance - with good reason."

Hayden looked quite adorable in a pair of ear protectors and protective glasses, her face serious.

I kicked the inside of her foot gently, "Wider." I commanded.

"Geez, if I spread my legs any farther apart you'll be able to fit between them." Hayden retorted, frowning at me as she glanced over her shoulder.

"How about you focus on one gun at a time."

"Ugh, you tease." She muttered softly, glancing back down the range. "Why is the Weeber Stance best though?"

"Weaver." I corrected. "And it allows you to pull the sights closer to your face, while also allowing you to pivot easier if you were to be engaged with a combatant."

"Is this what you use?"

I nodded, "Though it depends on the situation. For shooting downrange, it is as fine as any other. In combat situations? It's not all black and white. In an active engagement you might switch through several shooting stances in seconds."

"Sounds complicated." Hayden frowned.

"Hence the daily training." I took one last look at Hayden's form before stepping back. "How does that feel?"

I watched as she gripped the pistol tighter in her hands, the gun swaying slightly from side to side as she breathed - muscles trembling.

"It feels good."

Nodding, I retrieved the magazine and passed it towards her.

"Slide it in there, yes. Now pull back the slide. See the round chambered? Now you're loaded. See the safety on the side? Other side. Flick that to the frontal position. Keep your booger picker off the trigger though. Okay, now I want you to center the iron sights down the range towards the black circle - keep both eyes open. Can you see it?"

"Yes."

"Okay, now exhale slowly and squeeze the trigger. Don't pull, or it will cause the pistol to lift upwards."

The shot was loud, even over my own protective ear wear. Hayden's hands were thrust upwards, nearly straight above her head, as she stumbled back a step.

I felt my gut clench as the gun waved precariously around in her hands before she finally leveled it once more - adopting the stance as I had shown her. Pale green eyes met mine as she glanced sideways to offer me a smile.

"Fun!"

The next shot she was ready for, her back foot moving only slightly as she absorbed most of the recoil cast off by the pistol.

Nearly fifty rounds later, Hayden had done nothing but punish the air - the target so far having escaped her increasing frustration.

"It's impossible. You can't hit something that small." She advised me, based on absolutely zero experience whatsoever.

With a shake of my head, "Here. I'll show you."

My eyes narrowed as she passed me the gun barrel first - leveled squarely at my midsection, her finger still on the trigger.

"Never point the gun at someone unless you are intending to shoot them," I admonished softly. Gripping the barrel, I pointed it downwards at my feet before removing it from her hand. "Always pass it hand grip first, like this." I said, showing her.

"Sorry." Hayden mumbled softly.

With a finger I tilted her jaw upwards until her gaze met mine once more. "Don't be. It's okay. I just don't need another hole poked in me."

Her smile returned at my words, "Neither do I, mister. So watch it!"

As I stepped past her, I said over my shoulder. "Don't worry. I have no plans on making any more holes, just filling the ones you already have."

"Oh," She mumbled softly, a pink tinge now darkening her cheeks.

I slid into the Weaver stance with an easy grace, a familiarity born from countless hours spent upon the range. With the pistol leveled, the iron sights firmly centered upon the target twenty-five meters downrange, I exhaled slowly as I allowed my mind to turn blank. Thoughts of Hayden, of my own depression, of Dalton's increasing presence, everything, faded. I let it all fall away until my mind was nothing more than a blank slate - the only thing in existence being the pistol in my hands and the target in front of me.

As the last of my breath sighed out from between my lips, I squeezed the two-and-a-half pound trigger gently in rapid succession.

The click of the empty magazine was barely heard above the boom cast off by the eight shots as they all bled together into one seamless echo.

As I ejected the spent magazine, I toggled the safety before laying both flat in front of me. I quickly retrieved the target from down range, a metallic whirling filling my ears as it rushed towards Hayden and I.

"You only hit it once?" She asked, as the target diagram came to a stop in front of us, the paper blowing slightly back and forth.

"No."

Her eyes widened as she realized I had placed all eight shots within each other, the spread less than half an inch.