A/N:

HELLO! :D:D:D

It's been almost forever, hasn't it? Well guess what... you can't get rid of me that easily!

I feel as though I owe the people who constantly follow my stories an explaination for '26 Characters'... MDH fell off the planet, as far as I can tell. Even her tumblr is gone. I am actually kinda worried, but I can't get in contact with her at all, not even text. So, I am unsure what path the story will take, considering we were writing it together, and it was her chapter that was up next... (not to mention I lost my KICKASS 'O' chapter when my netbook crashed... . I'll just give you this, it was called 'Oh!'... let your imagination go where it will...) SO I'm going to have to figure out what to do. I'm open to dumb ideas here. ;)

ANYWAY. This story! I was ITCHING to write something, and I asked for a prompt on tumblr... and dancequeen80 gave me this to work with. She was first, so she wins the prize of this fanfic! So this is dedicated to the EXTRAORDINARY DQ... haha. DQ. Now I want Dairy Queen. ...I digress.

Also, I don't have a BETA, so the mistakes that may or may not be present are all mine. Let me know if there's anything blaring.

I'm awfully ADD tonight, so without any more rambling from me, for your consideration: Coffee Cups.

-Wouldn't it be cool if I owned them? ... I said 'IF'...-

Steam swirled out of two coffee cups, forgotten and left to grow inevitably cold. For now, though, the wisps of heat intermingled with one another, coiling, tangoing in a pair, up until it disappeared from view.

Not that anyone was around to see it.

No, their owners had abandoned them not more than ten minutes before, twining themselves together much like the steam from their disregarded mugs.

It had started casually, as these things always do, brewing quickly from nothing out of the ordinary to heated, rich passion. Much like the coffee itself, perhaps.

The day had been a long one, filled with twists and turns that neither of them had imagined. The complications arose not only at work, but within themselves as well.

He had been this close: this close to shutting down completely and walking away. It was too painful, too heartbreaking to stick around. Every time he saw her with him; saw her trying to fake the relationship that was so clearly a ruse more than anything real, anything he so clearly knew that he could give her, he (dramatically) felt like a piece of himself was withering away. There was a point; and that point was drawing incessantly nearer.

And then everything changed; it changed so fast that he barely registered what was happening. There were words; loud words; and all of the sudden she was out the door, leaving him standing in a stunned silence. He decided something in that moment: it was now or never. Now, or spend the rest of his life wondering. That wasn't his game. That wasn't his style. He made it a point to get what he wanted; what he needed. It was more than a want. She was as crucial as air, as far as he was concerned.

He nearly sprinted after her, not really sure what he was going to say, but he had to do something. He stopped in front of her stunned hazel eyes, catching his breath, composing his poetry.

What came out was far from poetical.

A blathering mess of apologies, sympathies, and comfort spilled from his lips, and before he could stop it, he was asking her to come over for coffee. She looked like she didn't want to be alone. Truthfully, he never wanted her to be alone.

She agreed, but on the stipulation that they went to her place instead. Floored, he followed her in a stunned stupor.

Was she actually letting him take care of her?

After they were settled in, each with a mug to their liking, they sat in comfortable silence. The coffee tied them together in so many ways, that it was almost as if the hot beverage did the talking for them. Coffee was more than coffee... it always had been. It was a liquid hug, or a squeeze of the hand. Comfort. Support.

Surprisingly, she spoke first. Everything he had been wondering about what had happened at the precinct came pouring out of her pretty mouth, from what had gone wrong, to the subject of most of their disagreements. He wasn't all together shocked when he realized that he himself was a huge topic of dispute. And then, before he could blink upon this realization, all the arguments that she had made in his favor came tumbling out. She needed him. She wanted him. She knew they were more than partners, and that status change was not a new one.

Her eyes grew wide and she almost comically slapped a hand over her mouth, as if she thought she could plug up the dam of affections that she had just released. She had been so focused on just letting all of her frustrations out to one of her best friends, that it hadn't really dawned on her that he was not an innocent third party. She excused herself to not only refill their mugs, but to collect herself.

She returned, setting both mugs with fresh coffee on the table that sat at their knees. She caught his eyes and they smiled warmly back at her, and suddenly, a burst of strength hit her, and she returned his gaze with as much affection as she could muster. His look was so genuine, so raw and with just an inkling of dark desire that she nearly came unraveled. Suddenly, the coffee was not enough. Suddenly, the metaphor wasn't enough for what she really needed.

With one fluid motion, she sat herself snugly in his lap, almost laughing aloud at his puzzled, yet shocked expression.

"Just go with it," she purred, wiggling her hips into him.

His eyes relayed a question, which she promptly read.

"This could never be a one-time thing for me. What about you?"

He wordlessly shook his head no, and at her smirk, he reached up and tangled his hand in her hair and brought her lips resolutely to his. The electricity that they created when their lips finally touched was intoxicating to both of them, and they quickly deepened the kiss to drink up more of each other. His lips began to travel down her cheek, to her jaw, and finally her neck. She tossed her head back, and let out a breathless whimper that was lyrical to his ears. He responded with a low moan of his own, rumbling down her neck, hitting her right to the core. They continued for a few moments until she pulled back, studying him for a fervent and heavy moment.

Wordlessly, she stood up and reached for his hands, pulling him up to her level. Her hands traveled up his arms and down to work at the buttons on his shirt. He lifted her chin, asking another question with his eyes, to which she playfully rolled hers, and kissed him again, pouring her emotional answer into it. This satisfied him, and he took his turn at unbuttoning her blouse.

Piece by piece, and foot by foot, clothing dropped onto the floor as they made their way to the bedroom. Finally, only skin remaining, she backed him into her room, shutting the door behind her.

And so, the two mugs sat, out of sight, out of mind. The more heat that was generated in her bedroom, the colder the dark liquid became. Each moan, each pleading word seemed to cause the coffee cups to lose the allure they once held.

Coffee just couldn't compare anymore.

A/N:

I feel like I'm a bit rusty, so tell me what you think! Pretty please?

Also, I think I might take 'applications' for people who want to pick up MDH's slack (at least until I can locate her) and write '26' with me... PM me if you're interested, with a writing sample, or a link to your writing. :D

Be kind; review! :]