Title: For The First Time.
Author: collaboration between myself and SummerPixie aka Nate
Archived: Originally written for LWFF.list. Rewritten with the permission of Nate, for FF.net.
Disclaimer: Lethal Weapon Movies belong to Warner Bros. Our fond worship is in no way disrespecting their copyright.
Authors Notes: Takes place between LW2 and LW3. Rianne is of legal age and in no way is taken advantage of. No way. No how.
****
The door slammed. Rianne Murtaugh, the 18 year old African-American
beauty, for a whole two weeks did nothing but close doors with the force
of a whirlwind.
"This has to stop" Detective Martin Riggs sighed heavily. Roger and the
family were away for the week, Rianne was supposed to go with friends
skiing and he was house sitting. But Rianne turned up unexpectedly,
broody and in this mood. He knew 'boy trouble' when he saw it festering.
Martins forehead furrowed. 19 year old teenage boys.. scourge of the
earth. He well remembered what he was like, and wished he could go back
and change how he acted with his dates. He was slightly embarrassed and
guilty to say he wished he'd had a Rianne back when he was younger, even
more so since Rog dragged him into the house more than two years ago.
She was an intoxicating mix of girl-woman, that exceeded her age and
maturity for a 18year old.
They'd been closer of late. He loved her ability to make him smile when
nothing else, or no one else could. It was a gift.. one that he couldn't
hope to repay. Maybe this was his chance to repay Rianne for her love?
He promised himself he would talk with her when she came down. But two
hours passed, and it was obvious she wasn't coming down.
He couldn't stand around here all day. Making his choice he went up the
stairs to her bedroom. Riggs stood on the threshold for what seemed like
ages, debating. He was about to walk away when he heard her crying.
Damnit.
"Rianne?," Martin greeted the dark teenager, pushing open the door, and
standing awkwardly on the threshold to her bedroom. His breath was taken
from him from the sight before him.
She looked a vision. Her waist length tresses were pulled up into soft
curls which spiraled down her back, revealing those gorgeous black eyes
and high cheekbones of her Mother Trish. Her cinnamon coffee complexion,
the stubborn-streak, her quiet sometimes brooding personality came from
Roger, her dad. But it was her eyes that compelled him. Rianne was
sitting on her bed, her eyes red with dark circles beneath them. He
wanted to go and take her into his arms and hold her. It was killing him
to see her like this, but instead he just stood there, chewing nervously
at his lip.
"Hi Martin..." She muttered, not looking at him.
"Ah... may I come in?" Martin asked, all of a sudden bashful. Rianne
smiled, despite her obvious misery, then her head dropped back down to
her chest. Resuming playing with her hands, trying not to look at him.
His gaze peeled up her form, slowly devouring. Her shoes were patent
shiny leather, buffed until they became like a mirror. Her stockings
were a sheer black silk that caressed every slender curve and glorious
inch.. the School Uniform skirt was a tartan red, black and cream flared
skirt that rested on her calf - it was short enough to give him a
tantalizing glimpse of lace tops to the stockings. Martin mentally
groaned with desire. He should stop.. he really, really shou... Martins
eyes lifted. Her white buttoned blouse was slightly undone, the tops of
a lace bra encasing a heaving bosom the color of milky cinnamon. His
heart skipped a beat, thundering onward in arousing agony. Martin
sat beside her, blushing hotly and reprimanding himself for feeling this
way.
"You wanna tell me what's up?" he pryed the words out from the lump in
his throat.
"Would you want to kiss me?"
Martin nearly fell off the bed. Not only for her suggestion.. her
welcome suggestion, but for the answer he had secretly replied. Yes.
"Wh... honey, we're... I'm... listen, you shouldn't be asking this
question of me.."
There was a smile. A grin, and he'd swear she might be blushing as she
looked up into his eyes. His dark chestnut hair and blue eyes, that jaw
set strikingly in a way that made every woman wish he was theirs. And
here he was with her.. sitting on her bed, looking so devilishly
gorgeous "Not you, you goober," she grinned, half lying. "I mean, do
you think a boy would find me attractive enough to kiss?"
Hell yes! "Of course. Where on earth is this coming from??" he uttered, distractedly. Her silence was incriminating his first suspect. "The boy you've been seeing? Did he *do* something to hurt you?"
His voice held a modicum of menace, an obvious affection and protection
for her behind it. Her body trembled with the thought. "No, not him..."
Rianne blushed again. "But he said that I'm... ah,... bad..."
She mumbled something too soft, that he couldn't pick up. Instinctively
he leaned into her trying to hear. Bad mistake. When they touched,
something electric passed between them. As Rianne turned towards him
their faces were inches from the other - their lips almost touching.
Riggs was frozen for what seemed like forever, when her breath fluttered
across his lips and cheek with the last of her sentence.
"Kiss... er." Eegads, he was gonna be punished. Physically he made
himself pull back, dragging his crumbling resolve with him. "Huh?"
Rianne felt the moment was gone and sighed sadly, looking back down at
her hands. "Kisser. Michael said.. he said I was a bad kisser." she
resigned, disheartedly. "Then laughed at me. The next morning, I found
out he'd gone and told the rest of the school as well."
"What?!" Martin's jaw dropped. He wondered how much trouble he could get
in with Captain Murphy on stringing up this tosser, Michael. "That
loser! gimme his full name and I'll see how fast he can run with a dozen
cops chasing him down."
Rianne immediately blushed again. "Not him, it was me. I just wish I
knew what to do..." Martin looked at her, his heart spilling over with
affection. His fingers gently tipped her chin back so that her eyes were
level with his own. "Haven't you ever been kissed before?"
"No," she confessed shyly. "Michael was my first.. not that there will
EVER be a second time."
"Yes there will be," Riggs insisted passionately, ignoring the growing desire to have been that one. Sighing inwardly, he took her gentle hand within the warm shelter of his own two, and looked deeply in her eyes. "The man that will be blessed to have been kissed by you, will know what it is truly like to know a woman of such beauty, intelligence and spirit has loved him, and given him the greatest gift of that love. More intimate than the marriage bed, it is to be kissed. Kissed softly, gently and with passion, that it reels the senses and steals your breath..."
Martin gently cradled her face with one hand, pulling her dark eyes to him with an intensity that bordered divine intimacy. His own face nearing hers with slow deliberation. " and returns it with his own."
Rianne was quickly loosing herself in his green eyes, forcing herself to hear above the rushing blood in her ears. Her eyes slid shut on their own as Martin gently kissed her. The most arousing gentleness and intimacy she had ever dreamed a kiss would be. Chaste, loving and knee-knocking glorious. His mouth covered hers, and the pressure increased minutely as the older man's lips covered her own. Then quite suddenly, he pulled away breathing hard and furious. His eyes were wild, wanting desperately to pull her back with him.
He cursed his thoughts and made his fingers loosen their grip on Rianne, skittling back guiltily. The soft mewl from a disappointed Rianne, drew his heated gaze to her face. What he saw shook him to his bones.
Her face shone, frozen in a moment of intimate and longed for bliss. Martin closed his eyes desperately, trying to regain control. "I-I'm sorry, Rianne. Pleas-Please forgive me."
Riannes eyes fluttered open, just a crack, to meet his guilty and reproachful gaze. Her heart stopped, dead. A kiss that had given her the world, and a look that had stolen it away. Goddess. The pain of his rejection was a thousand times worse than Michael's. She had never loved Michael, he was a distraction at least and a chance to love at most. But not the crush turned love that Martin always had been.
And perhaps now, never would be again.
Somehow, somewhere she found her voice. "Don't. I'm not and I'll never be regretful of what you gave me tonight."
He took a deep breath and licked his lips, hypnotized by the look of
desire in her face, desperately fearing she could see through his words, the exact reflection in his own eyes. He didn't regret their kiss either, not one shameless moment. The only regret he had, was the situation they were in. She was Rogers eldest daughter. He was Rogers police partner and best friend. She was 18, going on 25. He was tipping 30, going on a reckless 18. As much as he wished it was different - it wasn't.
"If you were only...."
Riannes gentle fingers captured his lips, stilling his wish because it mirrored so much her own. "I know," she whispered softly. "I know."
So many years of "If only," And a respite that would have to last for a lifetime... at least for now.
He captured her hand with his own and gently placed a kiss to the palm. She flung herself into his arms, holding him as close as she could. It was going to be friendship, deeper than it had been before, but nonetheless - a bond as strong as love.
He pulled away a long time after, parting with a kiss on her forehead. "By the way, Rianne;" he whispered huskily over his shoulder, just as he opened the door, stepping past the threshold and turned to face her again. "Michael is wrong in everything he said and did, because..." Martin smirked devilishly, his eyes flashing dangerously as the door slowly slid shut between them. His mouth working in silent, dedicated and lusty reply; "Wow."
She sat agape as the door slid shut, her gasp of shocked awe quickly dissolving behind one of the most wicked smiles she'd ever known. She flushed hotly, her heart keening wildly in her chest. She may have not been Martins first kiss, but from this moment on, he was hers. And no matter what the future held for them both; she would always love him for that.
Not for the first time, she knew, maybe, just maybe..
it wouldn't be the last.
***
The end.
Author: collaboration between myself and SummerPixie aka Nate
Archived: Originally written for LWFF.list. Rewritten with the permission of Nate, for FF.net.
Disclaimer: Lethal Weapon Movies belong to Warner Bros. Our fond worship is in no way disrespecting their copyright.
Authors Notes: Takes place between LW2 and LW3. Rianne is of legal age and in no way is taken advantage of. No way. No how.
****
The door slammed. Rianne Murtaugh, the 18 year old African-American
beauty, for a whole two weeks did nothing but close doors with the force
of a whirlwind.
"This has to stop" Detective Martin Riggs sighed heavily. Roger and the
family were away for the week, Rianne was supposed to go with friends
skiing and he was house sitting. But Rianne turned up unexpectedly,
broody and in this mood. He knew 'boy trouble' when he saw it festering.
Martins forehead furrowed. 19 year old teenage boys.. scourge of the
earth. He well remembered what he was like, and wished he could go back
and change how he acted with his dates. He was slightly embarrassed and
guilty to say he wished he'd had a Rianne back when he was younger, even
more so since Rog dragged him into the house more than two years ago.
She was an intoxicating mix of girl-woman, that exceeded her age and
maturity for a 18year old.
They'd been closer of late. He loved her ability to make him smile when
nothing else, or no one else could. It was a gift.. one that he couldn't
hope to repay. Maybe this was his chance to repay Rianne for her love?
He promised himself he would talk with her when she came down. But two
hours passed, and it was obvious she wasn't coming down.
He couldn't stand around here all day. Making his choice he went up the
stairs to her bedroom. Riggs stood on the threshold for what seemed like
ages, debating. He was about to walk away when he heard her crying.
Damnit.
"Rianne?," Martin greeted the dark teenager, pushing open the door, and
standing awkwardly on the threshold to her bedroom. His breath was taken
from him from the sight before him.
She looked a vision. Her waist length tresses were pulled up into soft
curls which spiraled down her back, revealing those gorgeous black eyes
and high cheekbones of her Mother Trish. Her cinnamon coffee complexion,
the stubborn-streak, her quiet sometimes brooding personality came from
Roger, her dad. But it was her eyes that compelled him. Rianne was
sitting on her bed, her eyes red with dark circles beneath them. He
wanted to go and take her into his arms and hold her. It was killing him
to see her like this, but instead he just stood there, chewing nervously
at his lip.
"Hi Martin..." She muttered, not looking at him.
"Ah... may I come in?" Martin asked, all of a sudden bashful. Rianne
smiled, despite her obvious misery, then her head dropped back down to
her chest. Resuming playing with her hands, trying not to look at him.
His gaze peeled up her form, slowly devouring. Her shoes were patent
shiny leather, buffed until they became like a mirror. Her stockings
were a sheer black silk that caressed every slender curve and glorious
inch.. the School Uniform skirt was a tartan red, black and cream flared
skirt that rested on her calf - it was short enough to give him a
tantalizing glimpse of lace tops to the stockings. Martin mentally
groaned with desire. He should stop.. he really, really shou... Martins
eyes lifted. Her white buttoned blouse was slightly undone, the tops of
a lace bra encasing a heaving bosom the color of milky cinnamon. His
heart skipped a beat, thundering onward in arousing agony. Martin
sat beside her, blushing hotly and reprimanding himself for feeling this
way.
"You wanna tell me what's up?" he pryed the words out from the lump in
his throat.
"Would you want to kiss me?"
Martin nearly fell off the bed. Not only for her suggestion.. her
welcome suggestion, but for the answer he had secretly replied. Yes.
"Wh... honey, we're... I'm... listen, you shouldn't be asking this
question of me.."
There was a smile. A grin, and he'd swear she might be blushing as she
looked up into his eyes. His dark chestnut hair and blue eyes, that jaw
set strikingly in a way that made every woman wish he was theirs. And
here he was with her.. sitting on her bed, looking so devilishly
gorgeous "Not you, you goober," she grinned, half lying. "I mean, do
you think a boy would find me attractive enough to kiss?"
Hell yes! "Of course. Where on earth is this coming from??" he uttered, distractedly. Her silence was incriminating his first suspect. "The boy you've been seeing? Did he *do* something to hurt you?"
His voice held a modicum of menace, an obvious affection and protection
for her behind it. Her body trembled with the thought. "No, not him..."
Rianne blushed again. "But he said that I'm... ah,... bad..."
She mumbled something too soft, that he couldn't pick up. Instinctively
he leaned into her trying to hear. Bad mistake. When they touched,
something electric passed between them. As Rianne turned towards him
their faces were inches from the other - their lips almost touching.
Riggs was frozen for what seemed like forever, when her breath fluttered
across his lips and cheek with the last of her sentence.
"Kiss... er." Eegads, he was gonna be punished. Physically he made
himself pull back, dragging his crumbling resolve with him. "Huh?"
Rianne felt the moment was gone and sighed sadly, looking back down at
her hands. "Kisser. Michael said.. he said I was a bad kisser." she
resigned, disheartedly. "Then laughed at me. The next morning, I found
out he'd gone and told the rest of the school as well."
"What?!" Martin's jaw dropped. He wondered how much trouble he could get
in with Captain Murphy on stringing up this tosser, Michael. "That
loser! gimme his full name and I'll see how fast he can run with a dozen
cops chasing him down."
Rianne immediately blushed again. "Not him, it was me. I just wish I
knew what to do..." Martin looked at her, his heart spilling over with
affection. His fingers gently tipped her chin back so that her eyes were
level with his own. "Haven't you ever been kissed before?"
"No," she confessed shyly. "Michael was my first.. not that there will
EVER be a second time."
"Yes there will be," Riggs insisted passionately, ignoring the growing desire to have been that one. Sighing inwardly, he took her gentle hand within the warm shelter of his own two, and looked deeply in her eyes. "The man that will be blessed to have been kissed by you, will know what it is truly like to know a woman of such beauty, intelligence and spirit has loved him, and given him the greatest gift of that love. More intimate than the marriage bed, it is to be kissed. Kissed softly, gently and with passion, that it reels the senses and steals your breath..."
Martin gently cradled her face with one hand, pulling her dark eyes to him with an intensity that bordered divine intimacy. His own face nearing hers with slow deliberation. " and returns it with his own."
Rianne was quickly loosing herself in his green eyes, forcing herself to hear above the rushing blood in her ears. Her eyes slid shut on their own as Martin gently kissed her. The most arousing gentleness and intimacy she had ever dreamed a kiss would be. Chaste, loving and knee-knocking glorious. His mouth covered hers, and the pressure increased minutely as the older man's lips covered her own. Then quite suddenly, he pulled away breathing hard and furious. His eyes were wild, wanting desperately to pull her back with him.
He cursed his thoughts and made his fingers loosen their grip on Rianne, skittling back guiltily. The soft mewl from a disappointed Rianne, drew his heated gaze to her face. What he saw shook him to his bones.
Her face shone, frozen in a moment of intimate and longed for bliss. Martin closed his eyes desperately, trying to regain control. "I-I'm sorry, Rianne. Pleas-Please forgive me."
Riannes eyes fluttered open, just a crack, to meet his guilty and reproachful gaze. Her heart stopped, dead. A kiss that had given her the world, and a look that had stolen it away. Goddess. The pain of his rejection was a thousand times worse than Michael's. She had never loved Michael, he was a distraction at least and a chance to love at most. But not the crush turned love that Martin always had been.
And perhaps now, never would be again.
Somehow, somewhere she found her voice. "Don't. I'm not and I'll never be regretful of what you gave me tonight."
He took a deep breath and licked his lips, hypnotized by the look of
desire in her face, desperately fearing she could see through his words, the exact reflection in his own eyes. He didn't regret their kiss either, not one shameless moment. The only regret he had, was the situation they were in. She was Rogers eldest daughter. He was Rogers police partner and best friend. She was 18, going on 25. He was tipping 30, going on a reckless 18. As much as he wished it was different - it wasn't.
"If you were only...."
Riannes gentle fingers captured his lips, stilling his wish because it mirrored so much her own. "I know," she whispered softly. "I know."
So many years of "If only," And a respite that would have to last for a lifetime... at least for now.
He captured her hand with his own and gently placed a kiss to the palm. She flung herself into his arms, holding him as close as she could. It was going to be friendship, deeper than it had been before, but nonetheless - a bond as strong as love.
He pulled away a long time after, parting with a kiss on her forehead. "By the way, Rianne;" he whispered huskily over his shoulder, just as he opened the door, stepping past the threshold and turned to face her again. "Michael is wrong in everything he said and did, because..." Martin smirked devilishly, his eyes flashing dangerously as the door slowly slid shut between them. His mouth working in silent, dedicated and lusty reply; "Wow."
She sat agape as the door slid shut, her gasp of shocked awe quickly dissolving behind one of the most wicked smiles she'd ever known. She flushed hotly, her heart keening wildly in her chest. She may have not been Martins first kiss, but from this moment on, he was hers. And no matter what the future held for them both; she would always love him for that.
Not for the first time, she knew, maybe, just maybe..
it wouldn't be the last.
***
The end.