This story has been bouncing around my head for a week.

Summary: Coreen gets caught in a bar by our favorite cop.

Disclaimers: I own nothing.

Just a Little

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Coreen giggled at her friends joke and straightened her top for the hundredth time. Being around Vicki so much was starting to make her a little more conservative. Her top was a black corset tied with bright green ribbons down the front and it covered all of her stomach and most of her chest. Lower, she was in a black mini skirt and a pair of black-heeled sneakers and green fishnets. Her friends all loked at something over her shoulder and she turned, drink still in hand. She paled. "M-Mike?"

"Aren't you a bit young to be drinking?" he raised an eyebrow. She looked over her shoulder to see all of her friends had abandoned her. She sighed, turning back to the Italian.

"Just a little." she winced.

"Really? Because nineteen and twenty-one seems to be a bit of a difference." he smiled.

"You aren't going to arrest me, are you?"

"I work murder, Coreen. Unless you get behind the wheel of a car and hit someone, it's not my jurisdiction."

"So...why did you scare off all my friends?"

"Because, Miss Fennel, I would like to dance." he held out his hand. She looked at him, eyes wide. He was still in his suit, for crying out loud. She scanned his face.

"Are you drunk?" she smiled.

"Just a little." he mimicked. She rolled her eyes and took his hand, setting her drink down, and went out onto the floor with him. The song was fast and loud, but the lyrics were whispered. She smiled and closed her eyes. Her hips began to sway to the beat and her hands moved into her hair. She felt one of his hands rest on her abdomen and the other capture her hip while he swayed and bucked against her. "Come here often?"

"If I say no, will you call me a liar?"

"Damn straight." he laughed.

"It's my weekly sanctuary."

"Good. And how exactly do you get in?"

"The guy at the front door is a close, personal friend."

"Close, personal?" he breathed against her neck. She grinned.

"Detective." she scolded teasingly. He smiled.

"Mike." he corrected, tone demanding.

"Mike." she nodded.

"So, exactly how close and personal are you and the doorman?"

"Not this close." she shrugged. They continued to dance and she turned in his arms. He smirked, looking her over, and tightened his hold on her back, pulling her closer. The song changed and more people got on the floor, making it practically impossible to have extra room, and they were left to try to dance against each other. He reached down and grabbed her hand.

"Come on." he breathed against her ear. They made their way through the crowd and to the back of the bar in a corner. Out the back door. Into the alleyway. He pushed her gently against the brick wall and she smiled up at him. He leaned down, smiling slightly. "You are so beautiful." he sighed, hands on either side of her. His lips crashed onto hers and her hands went into his hair. His hands captured her hips, pulling her against himself, while his mouth trailed over her jaw, nipping at her skin.

"If you don't mind, why the sudden change?" she breathed. He pulled back momentarily and looked at her.

"Coreen, you're a good woman. You're very kind. You're very patient. I think this should've happened...much sooner..." he leaned back down and traced his gentle kisses down the side of her neck. She sighed, hands moving to his shoulders. To her shock, he bit her neck gently. She gasped and felt him smile.

"Mike."

"I know you, Coreen. Don't tell me you don't like that and don't tell me you want me to stop." he hummed against her skin. "Unless you want me to leave?" he began to draw back, but she held his head to her neck.

"No. Don't leave." she breathed.

"How hard do you want it?" he moved his lips just over the skin of her neck, ear, back down to her collar.

"Just a little." she smirked. He coiled one hand with hers, fingers laced, and put the other to the small of her back, pinning her tightly between himself and the wall. His mouth latched over the side of her neck and he bit her while the hand not holding hers moved around her front and up her skirt. "Mike." she moved her free hand down to his waist and fumbled with the buckle of his belt. She got it undone and wasted no time undoing the button and fly before sliding her hand between the elstic of his boxers and his warm skin.

He stroked her gently and she wrapped her hand around him, whimpering. The harder his bite became, the faster their strokings went. He would increase and dull the pain every few moments so that she didn't adjust to it and just when it was almost breaking, he would pull back. After a few minutes, she became putty, stroking him languidly. He came and bit her harder, drawing blood and breaking skin. They both stayed against the wall, her panting and him with his mouth over the bite, but not biting anymore. She felt him hesitate a moment, freezing completely, before he sucked on the wound.

"Mike?" she asked. He pulled back and smiled at her sadly. She stroked her hand down his cheek and he fixed his pants and she her skirt and hose.

"C'mon. I'll buy you a drink." he offered. She smiled.

"Well, considering I just gave you one." she shrugged. He nodded.

"I...I don't know what...I just..." he tried to form an apology for something he didn't regret. The first thing in months.

"Mike, I'm not questioning you. I don't have the right. You want what you want and you like it or not. But no one's opinion should matter to you but your own."

"I'm not crazy?" he winced, waiting for her to yell that he was. She smiled, still holding his hand, and moved closer to him.

"Just a little."