a/n: Post-ep for Ripple of Hope, Ben's POV

I Don't Have To Do Anything

It's late and I really just want to go home. Yet, here I am, sitting in the quaint, sterile customer lounge, waiting as the guys balance the tires on my car. I was passively watching the news on the television suspended from the ceiling, but that has become a futile effort as I am continually finding my gaze drifting to a very uninteresting portion of grey carpeting. I know what's happening. My mind is purposely diverting my attention, focusing my eyes to stare blankly at the floor so it may concentrate on a brown-haired woman by the name of Kate Reed. The number of times I flick my eyes back to the television is becoming increasingly irrelevant as my brain is overpowering my refusal to settle on that particular thought.

My head is wrapped so tightly around Kate right now. I close my eyes and all I see is Kate searching her pocket for her phone. I see her walking out of the elevator. I see all of her walking out of the elevator. Hey, I'm a guy. And I like nice things. And there she was so, yeah, I let my eyes roam as she walked away. When she turned around and I lifted my eyes to hers, something changed. The urges I had been fighting all week, wanting to hold her, wanting to kiss her, washed over me like a flood. The doors closing between us snapped me from my reverie, forcing me to take a few steps forward to guide the doors back into the recess, but the thoughts lingered. I could barely process what she was saying as I tried to find an excuse, any excuse, to justify fulfilling my fancy. Then I caught the words: "I'll see you tomorrow." Now, I never have to do anything. That's what I told Kate yesterday. And, it's true. At least it was until that moment. As she said her good-byes, as she turned to walk away, I lost the battle and I gave in to the impulse. I had to do something to keep her close.

I reached out and grabbed her arm, pulling her back to me. My eyes found her mouth as she, in her clumsy back step, ended up exactly where I wanted her: pressed against me. With my hands on her hips, I leaned into her, kissing her softly. She started to back away, removing her arm from between our bodies and placing it on my chest to put some distance between us. But I wasn't willing to let her go. I wrapped my arms around her smaller frame, slowly recovering the small amount of space she had managed to procure. Then Kate gave in. She relaxed a bit and accepted the kiss, becoming a willing participant. I felt her hand on my neck, then in my hair and every bit of my being screamed in delight of the contact. When our lips separated, I opened my eyes, thinking our kiss had ended. I was surprised when her hand held my jaw and she leaned in for a rather involved connection of our lips.

With this last caress, Kate realized what we were doing. She pushed me back, pulling her mouth from mine. I licked my lips, relishing the fact that I could still taste her, and lifted my gaze from her mouth to her very confused and very surprised eyes. "I'm sorry. I had to do that." Truth. I had to. I had to know how soft her lips were, how she would feel in my arms. She wished me a good "tire thing" and we exchanged a small series of awkward good-byes. As we parted, the elevator doors closed, separating us for good.

As much as it stops there, however, it doesn't stop there. Because here I am, in this damned lounge, alone with my thoughts. And in my thoughts, we don't go our separate ways. No, no. "I'm sorry," I tell her, lifting my hand and gently taking her chin between my thumb and forefinger. "I had to do that," I whisper against her mouth. And I kiss her again, softly, lingering slightly. She doesn't protest, doesn't push me away, so I let the backs of my fingers glide under her chin and across her neck. She meets my eyes, a small crinkle knitting her brow, and I know I have touched a sensitive spot under her ear. I settle my hand behind her neck and slowly pull her mouth to mine. Again, the kiss is soft, lasting mere seconds longer than the one before.

Kate still doesn't push me away.

I move us from the doorway of the elevator, carefully dropping my coat and briefcase on the floor so I can wrap my arm around her waist. I take her coat and purse and place them next to mine as I kiss her a third time, still with a tender touch. Her hands, now unoccupied, move to my shoulders. This is the last warning I give her, the last opportunity to stop everything.

But she doesn't. Instead, she sighs against my mouth.

I turn her around, gradually and carefully pushing her against the wall next to the elevator as I nip at her lips with deliberate slowness. I press my body into hers, finally covering her mouth completely. I can feel the ripple of tension that swells around her body as her fingers tighten gently on my shoulders. I continue to kiss her, taking my dear sweet time to tease her lips. She tries to return the kiss, but a well-timed shift of my body along hers interrupts her efforts and prompts a soft whine of desire.

I think that I may be full of myself for believing Kate would allow me to continue such a bold move. No, I know I am full of myself for thinking that. But, Kate didn't put much time or effort into stopping me when our lips first met. She may not be the strongest woman, but she is feisty and if she really wanted out of that moment, she could have easily freed herself. She returned the kiss. She didn't push me away and slap me across the face. She didn't yell at me and tell me how off base I was. She returned the kiss. So, I am choosing to believe that I did something right.

"Mr. Grogan? Your vehicle is ready."

"Thank you." Of course it's ready. It's not enough to be stuck in this lounge with nothing to divert my attention from Kate, but now my vehicle is ready and the only place it has to take me is home. Home, where I'll have plenty of places to imagine satisfying my curiosities about Kate. I want her lying in my bed with my arms wrapped around her. I want her beneath me, submissive, and above me, demanding. I want Kate in any and every manner that entails.

Dinner. Maybe I should invite her to dinner. Maybe I can figure out what that 'something right' was, and do it again. And again and again, because kissing Kate in front of the elevators at the Reed and Reed offices just does not do my fantasies justice.