Title: In the Wake of You
Author: Ayrki
Disclaimer: AR owns all of DEBS and for this I am very happy. I merely muck about when challanged or the muse whapps me with the cricket bat of inspiration. [rubs head] And is it any wonder I have a constant headache for weeks at a time?
Summary: Response to a challange issued by Dizzy. See blaming for details.
Rating: Eh, maybe an M leaning to an MA rating. It's not as...detailed as the drabble 'Interlude at Midnight' but it ain't fluff. There's allusions that could make it graphic.
Notes: Right, this thing is kinda all contained in here, but there are three things I want to expand upon. I'm not too happy with leaving them to hang, but short of expanding upon this thing even more, I think I will leave it and possibly continue after I finish my obligation.
Blame: "madndizzee (5:07:31 PM): can u drabble up A&L having phone sex? i dare u :)" I have quotage of who is to blame! Another one for Diz because she's an insistant enough shit to make me write when I should be working on other projects. No more challanges until I finish Linger! [coughs] Hopefully, you will find this to your liking.
Written: Circa 2006
"Aaaaaamy."
"What, Lucy?" the blonde in question smiled into the phone at the wheedling tone her lover employed.
"Why did you have to go so far away?"
She laughed at the petulance in the reformed criminal's voice. Dear god, Lucy sure could moan like a child with its favourite toy taken away. "Because Australia's pretty far away from Barcelona; probably by your design too."
The dark mutter was barely audible through the connection. "No, my design was to sink the bastard."
"Lucy. What did I say about disparaging remarks about the Australians?"
"Why'd you have to take their side anyway?"
"I did not take sides, Lucy. Unless you count thinking that making 20 million plus people have to swim is a bad thing."
"They have over 35 thousand kilometres of coast line. They can swim. Maybe."
"Lucy!"
Unseen, the dark woman winced, knowing that tone instinctually. "I'm sorry. They woulda been fine. The damn thing was faulty anyways; what's the drama?"
Amy's pause drew out long. "Do you realise you just sounded like an Australian? 'What's the drama?'"
"I do not!" God, she was cute when indignant.
Tilting her head back, the laugh she released was warm and full. Pacing over to the large window of her rooms that looked out over the river, Amy crossed her arms over her chest as she lent against the glass and looked out. "Do to."
"You're teasing me." The response was sullen and accusing.
"Of course, I am. I have to get you back some how for all the times you leave me waiting."
"Oooh, below the belt shot, Bradshaw."
"Well duh, Lucy. Where else would it be?" She snickered at the silence her lover responded with.
"Okay, I'll give you points for that one."
Shifting so that her back touched the cool pane, Amy smirked into her empty room. Though luxurious and very comfortable it, like all other hotel suites, lacked the creatures comforts of home. Namely one slender brunette with devastating eyes and the sexiest swagger the artist had seen outside of pirate movies. Hell, it was better than even Johnny Depp's, when she really thought about it. "And what else will you give me?"
Lucy's jaw dropped as she recognised that particular tone. It went straight to where desire pooled in her groin. "I'm not actually in the best place to be talking about that, babe." Dark eyes glanced about as she really decided this wasn't a conversation she was so happy having with that many ears around.
"What, shy now, Lucy?"
Shit, that was a challenge if she'd ever heard one. "Never," she lied through her teeth, and they both knew it. Waving frantically, she caught a driver's attention and he quickly slid into place. "Hang on a sec, babe." Lucy climbed into the vehicle and gave her destination to the man. "Sorry about that."
"Where are you?"
"In a car," Lucy replied vaguely. "Now, about this giving business. It depends entirely on just what you want."
"And if I said you?"
"Well, then I would reply it serves you right for flying half way across the world from me," she responded with a grin.
"Hasn't stopped you before.
Aw, man, did she have to manage to remember every damn escapade? "True, but I wasn't in a car at the time. You know about the dangers of driving and talking on a cell phone."
"It's called a hand's free kit, Luce." The brunette was absolutely silent, so many implications held within that statement. "And that goes only for the driver, anyway."
"And do you really want me discussing just what I want to do to you with someone else overhearing?" She watched as the driver's eyebrows hiked up. Fantastic.
"I'm in another country; what do I care?"
"Brat."
"I learned from you."
Lucy was quiet for several minutes, mulling over her choice and words. "I won't ask what you're wearing because it doesn't matter. You're naked. End of story."
"Oh, how romantic," was the rather dry response.
"Hush, you. You're naked because even though you are breathtakingly gorgeous in everything you wear -even a burlap sack, if memory serves- you never keep clothes on for very long when I'm around." And it was true. Lucy had a mild problem with the barriers of fabric that kept her from the silky skin. "But if you'd rather a scene set, then imagine this: you've been away a long time, off on some tour for your art. It's been two, agonising months of eternity since I saw you last."
"That's not too hard to imagine," Amy whispered in reply.
"Two insane, heart-wrenching months as I've spent craving you for every waking and sleeping moment. If you think I'm bad when you get home from a long day at the gallery, imagine me now. Two months wrapped up in some stupid security project while you dash off around the world, sharing your brilliance with everyone. Letting them see you, touch you; giving yourself a part of them with your art and skill and absolute magnificence. Imagine just what the thought of everyone else getting you does, while I wait and crave you." Her voice fell to that low murmur she adopted instinctively, one she knew drove many a person wild, Amy being no exception. Dark eyes fell closed as she rest her head against the glass of the window. "God, how I've missed you."
"Luce."
"Shhh. I dream of you, every night. We're a thousand places, none of them mattering. All that does is that I am with you and you are with me. My tongue against yours as I pour everything I can feel but never say into that kiss. Telling you of just how much you mean, just how much it hurts, even when I'm with you.
"It kills me some times, just how much you make me feel. There are times when I look at you and I simply cannot breathe, something holding my heart, squeezing the breath from my body. And then, you look at me again and I am reborn.
"Every night I dream. I see you, I touch you, I feel you, I taste you. It's all memory though, and it's never nearly enough. I wake up wanting, needing, and aching for you. All day, it's there, this constant, throbbing, maddening desire. Every time I think it might finally be sated, it just grows stronger until it is all that I am. Throbbing, aching agony of want and need. And all I can do is just try to breathe, my world contracted to the moment until you return.
"This madness of mine is everywhere; my everything. Defining me, constricting me, destroying me, and creating me." Lucy's voice changed again, softening this time, but still maintaining that low thrum she somehow managed to master. "Now, imagine this is how I've spent eight long weeks. Every moment, of every day, knowing only my desire for you."
"I might spare the time for a quick 'hello;' it really depends upon just how sharp the need is. In all probability though, I'd say it with a kiss as I kick the door shut behind me. I let my tongue speak all my words in a way I know you'll never miss their meaning as I pull you flush against my body. We fit like nothing else I've ever seen before. Somehow, as though we were crafted to perfectly match each other. I kiss you long and hard, a laugh smothered between us as I am amused by just how damned insistent your hands are. My coat hits the floor with a negligent thump, neither of us noticing."
"The door is hard, my shoulders taking the impact of our bodies as you crash into me and I'm no less insistent in our pace. I need you. It's been too long, but then some times with us, five minutes is an eternity too much.
"Dear god, your skin feels like heaven against my hands. My palms itch constantly no matter what I'm doing unless I have the texture of your warm, smooth flesh beneath them. It used to be only diamonds able to provoke this compulsion to caress and hold. Now, they are as worthless as a common stone in the wake of you."
Ducking out of the cab after passing the appropriate bills over to a mildly red-faced man, she headed inside the expansive atrium-style entrance. "Madre del dios," Lucy groaned the phrase, thrusting everything she possessed into the throaty expulsion, ignoring the startled look a person she passed shot her. "I think I'd come from your mouth on my neck alone. I always think I'd be the aggressor, the one making love to you madly into the night, but always, I am wrong. I might have the reputation for being able to drive a woman wild with a single look, but you, my beloved, you shatter me in a moment. Walls broken down, my defences torn asunder until all that exists is you in me."
Studiously, she ignored the other occupants of the lift she ducked into. "My world defined in a touch, my world contracted to you. Ordinary mortal word cannot ever hope to contain the true meaning of what it is I find with you. Of what you let me feel. Every touch leaves a trail blazing across my flesh, soothing and inflaming me. And god in heaven, you feel exquisite; hot velvet and silk, slick heat becoming all I know, and my god, it's that intense I'm lost within your touch. It's all too much and yet, not nearly enough, and each time, I don't know whether I die or live a little more.
"Jesus, Lucy," Amy gasped. "I didn't think you'd actually take me seriously." The blonde groaned deep. "I'd go straight to the Perth Airport, but I don't think I'd survive the flight home."
Lucy chuckled low, the muted rumble doing nothing to help Amy's frayed nerves. "Never issue a challenge to an Andrades in vein."
"I... My god, you didn't even go into graphic details!"
Again, the dark woman chuckled and again, it did little for Amy's constitution. Still, she ignored those around her as she slipped out from the elevator, checking down each side out of instinct and for navigation. "To be erotic one must not descend to vulgarity, my dear, sweet beloved. For that, all it takes is a genuine passion, something I have in spades for you. I won't have phone sex with you, Amy." Lucy very nearly burst out laughing at the double take someone passing her experienced, stumbling into the wall hard. "But I will make love to you, in any way possible, even if reduced to only my words."
She was met with only silence and Lucy laughed quietly again, both warmed and amused at her lover. "I really haven't a lot of ways to respond to that."
"I know," she replied, reaching into her pockets and pulling out a few tools required. "That was kind of the point. You know I'm horrible with phones."
"Horrible is not quite the word I would be using at the moment," Amy assured her, still very much in doubt of her upper brain functions. It was impossible to think words that potent; maybe though, it wasn't the actual words but rather what lay behind them. What she could hear Lucy saying beyond her words, and of course there was the simple fact that the sound of Lucy's voice just *did things* to her. How many times had they played and teased, and how many times had she been unable to hold out against it?
"True, but Amy, if you really want to play, open your door."
"What?" The request was so weird, and strangely termed she sat up and stared in confusion. Was this some kind of new and extremely disturbing euphemism?
The laugh, though carried through wire and satellite, still held the exact same rumble that quickened her heart and pushed her blood faster. "Fine."
Amy could hear rustling through the connection. "Lucy, what the hell are you doing?
"Oh, just breaking into a hotel room."
"Security jo-?" Before she could complete her question, her instincts flared at the sound of the door to her suite giving a beep from an accepted key card. The cool, light weight of the Px4 Storm familiar in her hand, Amy was on her feet, shifting her stance as she moved behind a curve in the wall for cover, weapon ready as she held the mobile phone in her other hand.
"Before you go and shoot me, babe, you might wanna wait," Lucy stepped into the room, a devilish grin showing as she pressed the 'End' on the black and red phone her slender fingers wrapped around. "Kill me later."
"Lucy?" The hand holding the Beretta faltered, dipping down as Amy stared at her lover in shock. "What...?"
Lucy kicked the door shut behind her, sliding the card back in, this time with an entirely different set of instructions to block the reader. She leaned back against the door, smug and insufferably pleased with herself. "What am I doing here?" the brunette finished for her inarticulate partner.
"You're... You're supposed to be on a job." Astonishment aside, training took over and she engaged the safety on the weapon before replacing it in the pack from which she'd drawn it.
"Finished it," the brunette shrugged. "Besides," she glanced down before looking back up at Amy, shy and sweet suddenly. "I missed you."
Amy laughed and shook her head. "I can't believe you," she declared in amazement, setting down the forgotten phone as she continued to stare at Lucy. "I can't believe you're really here."
At that, Lucy released a full and unbridled grin. "Believe it, babe." And then Amy was running at her, paralysis shaken from her as the blonde threw herself into the one-time thief's arms. The door was hard; her shoulders taking the impact of their bodies as her artist crashed into her. She made little protest, instead pulling Amy flush against her, kissing her long and slow, hard and fast.
Then, it was Amy's back hitting the door hard as Lucy exchanged their positions, pushing up against the wall, her hands sliding under the terrycloth robe. She found to her delight and insane amusement, a great expanse of bare flesh beneath. Had she not told Amy that she would be naked? Chased away seconds later, the thoughts abandoned her as Lucy gave to the compulsion to simply feel. Silk, warm, taunt, and sating to the perpetual itch, dear god, her skin felt like the steps to heaven itself.
From Lucy's shoulders, Amy eased the leather away from her body, forcing Lucy to shrug it off. It hit the floor with a negligent thump, neither of noticing as the dark woman slid a hand up the thigh of the leg Amy wrapped around her hip. The journey begun so many miles away picked up just above Amy's knee, following the elegant curve of her body. Pulling her mouth away from the tangle of Amy's tongue with her own, Lucy followed the line of the blonde's jaw, then down the path of her throat.
Innate devotion and devoted knowledge found the juncture of Amy's shoulder and neck, exquisite and acute pressure answered by the deep groan of guttural reply. "Lucy." Strained and aching, the single word with duel syllables articulated the entire conversation between them. Anguish when parted, deep, soulful need when together; breathing the only thing barely possible in the wake of the incendiary nature of each other.
Amy laughed as her head tipped back, granting better access to the sought flesh; her hand conforming to the back of Lucy's skull, tangling in the hairs at the nape of her lover's neck. "Thought I was supposed to be the impatient one," she reminded with a smile.
Pulling back just long enough to give an entirely crooked grin, Lucy shrugged. "Best part of plays and the movies? When they adlib it. Life doesn't have a script, Amy. It's about just doing what feels right in the moment."
"Less talking, more kissing," the blonde replied, pulling Lucy's mouth back to hers, deciding just what exactly felt right to her.
"God, you are demanding!" Lucy laughed when she could, not all that entirely against the request. In fact, she was very enthusiastic about following it, but they were like that. A blaze ignited without the moment's warning.
