Y/n knew she was walking a fine line with Dexter Morgan.

The more she studied him, the more questions she had. His mask was flawless—too flawless. But she had spent her career peeling back facades, and something about Dexter made her want to dig deeper.

She just wasn't sure if she was doing it as a profiler... or as something else entirely.

Tonight, she found herself at a familiar place: Lush, a dimly lit bar near the precinct where officers and detectives went to drink away the horrors of their jobs. The air smelled of whiskey, beer, and stale cologne. She sat at a small table in the corner, nursing a drink, mind still wrapped around the case.

And then he walked in.

Dexter wasn't the type to frequent places like this—too many people, too many interactions. Yet there he was, scanning the room before his gaze landed on her.

Y/n smirked. Interesting.

He approached with that same effortless ease, sliding into the seat across from her. "Didn't take you for the drinking type."

She raised an eyebrow. "Didn't take you for the social type."

Dexter smiled, his fingers tracing the rim of his glass after ordering a drink. "I'm full of surprises."

Y/n studied him, the way he moved, the way his eyes held hers without hesitation. He was comfortable around her now. That should have made her feel like she was winning whatever game they were playing.

But it didn't.

Because now, she wanted to understand him.

She leaned forward slightly, lowering her voice just enough to make it personal. "Tell me something, Dexter. If you could do anything—anything at all, no rules, no consequences—what would it be?"

A flicker of something passed over his face. Not shock, not fear.

Curiosity.

For the first time, it was as if she had caught him off guard. His grip on his glass tightened for just a second before he masked it with a small chuckle. "That's an interesting question."

Y/n smirked. "And?"

Dexter tilted his head, eyes studying her with the same intensity she had been giving him for weeks. "I guess that depends... Are you asking as a profiler? Or as you?"

Her pulse skipped—just barely. Damn.

She should have known he'd turn it back on her.

"I'm asking as someone who doesn't like to play by the rules," she said smoothly, taking a sip of her drink.

Dexter's smile deepened, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Then I guess I'd do the same."

Y/n wasn't sure what game they were playing anymore.

But she was sure of one thing—

Dexter Morgan was far more dangerous than she had imagined.