Pairing: Alex/Olivia
Spoilers: None. Slightly AU, pretending Alex never got shot.
Disclaimer: Based on the song Backseat Bushwhack by Avenue D, which is a TERRIBLE song that you should probably not listen to. I think it melts braincells, although it somehow inspired mine. I'm just weird. I know this series is WAY out of character for Alex and Olivia, but I decided to write it anyway.
...
Laundromat:
"Fuck me at The Laundromat against the machine..."
...
Olivia hated doing laundry. No, the word 'hate' wasn't strong enough. She loathed carrying the heavy baskets (they were always heavy because Olivia procrastinated), she abhorred running out of detergent, and she despised the annoying clanging sound that her washer made as her jeans, tops, and underwear tumbled around inside.
When something inside of her washing machine broke (after she had already poured the detergent) she almost cried.
Resisting the urge to slam her head in the door, Olivia sighed. She really needed clean clothes for work the next day. Her neighbor on the right, a sweet old lady, was probably dozing off in the middle of the afternoon, and Olivia was on the outs with her neighbors to the left... something about a noise complaint. There was nothing else for it. She would have to use the Laundromat across the street.
Several minutes later, Olivia was searching for quarters and explaining her tale of woe to the owner of the Laundromat, a gentleman from Brooklyn. They knew each other by sight, but Olivia could not remember his last name for the life of her.
As he headed for the back room, Olivia scanned the establishment, trying to select a washer. Fortunately, it was almost five and most commuters were stuck in city traffic. She was the only one there and she had her pick of the machines. With a reluctant sigh, she chose the one furthest from the window, figuring that it got less use.
"Just what I want to do on my day off," Olivia grumbled, lifting the plastic basket that contained her still damp clothing. Opening the door and bending over, she began throwing her wet clothes into the washer. Finally finished, she rolled her quarters into the coin slot and bent over the machine to select her cycle. The washer started to hum and she was about to turn around when two soft, firm hands cupped her from behind, squeezing her ass through her jeans.
"What the fuck!" she hissed, whirling around and preparing to slug the creep that had tried to cop a feel. Familiar, teasing blue eyes froze her arm in mid swing.
"I'm not sure about the first part, handsome, but I think I'm up for the second," said Alex, resting her hand on Olivia's hip. Surprised and confused, the detective nodded dumbly, her frustration and anger evaporating.
"What are you doing here?" Olivia asked, distracted by the burning, hungry look in her lover's eyes.
"You ask too many questions." Pressing her body close to Olivia's, Alex backed her captive up against the rumbling washer. "You're shaking almost as much as that laundry machine," she whispered, her lips only a breath away from Olivia's. The detective did not deny it. Alex's voice and body language screamed sex, and Olivia's body was reacting.
She gave another long shudder as sharp teeth closed at the base of her throat. A soft, warm tongue followed, soothing the stinging flesh. Before Olivia knew what was happening, the loud zzzzip of her jeans being undone echoed through the empty Laundromat. She had enough presence of mind to squirm around to the side of the machine farthest from the door, trying to escape her lover's questing hands.
"Oh no you don't," Alex murmured before her mouth covered Olivia's in a hard kiss, nibbling on the detective's lower lip. Alex pressed closer, making the overwhelmed detective squirm beneath her hips. Olivia was caught completely off-guard. Although she was a pistol in the courtroom, Alex was surprisingly demure in the bedroom. It had taken months of careful, loving attention to draw the reserved blonde out of her shell.
Her previous partners – all men, Alex had confided – had not been particularly adventurous, either. Good New England boys usually kept two women at a time, one to please their mothers and one to please themselves. None of them had bothered to make the experience exciting, knowing they could always seek pleasure elsewhere. Good New England girls, on the other hand, were supposed to refrain from mentioning sex at all costs, especially with potential husbands.
But now, Olivia's Good New England girl was revealing a new, adventurous side to her personality. Dear God, is this the same woman who was almost too shy to straddle my face? Maybe there's hope for my handcuffs after all...
The washing machine vibrated against her back, the loud clanging sound muffling her small gasp of surprise as Alex's fingers found her through the fabric of her underwear. "Alex, baby, no... I – I can't... we..." Olivia whimpered helplessly, overwhelmed by the circling, teasing fingers.
Alex, not one to waste an opportunity, took Olivia's open mouth in another kiss. Olivia responded by suckling the tip of her tongue, making Alex groan and press her fingers harder, pulling aside elastic and plunging in to wet heat.
Unable to keep her eyes open, the detective let her lover take charge, her head rolling back and exposing the column of her throat to Alex's mouth. She was amazed at how fast she was rising, at how much she was feeling... The only words she seemed to remember were 'Oh God...' and 'Alex...', which she gasped over and over again as the pad of Alex's thumb made teasing circles in exactly the right spot...
The sharp, stabbing pulses in her lower abdomen caught her completely by surprise. Before she realized what was happening, white spots flashed behind her eyelids and she fell forward into Alex's arms, almost losing her balance. It was quick, brutal, bordering on painful. Alex, however, did not seem disappointed.
"Don't worry, detective," she purred, kissing the soft skin just beneath Olivia's ear, "that was just a warm up. Now, take me up to your apartment... there's still about half an hour on the timer."