Title: Mamihlapinatapai
Pairing: Cal/Gillian
Disclaimer: LtM not mine
Summary: A look shared by two people with each wishing that the other will initiate something that they both desire but which neither one wants to start. For Pineapple.
A/N: It's a ficlet, with quickly changing POVs. If you can't handle that then don't bother reading. It's already written. Thanks for reading and extra thanks to those who comment :)
.::.::.
It's been happening more often lately. These moments, these passing thoughts of fancy, are becoming less fanciful and more determined.
.::.
You're walking through the entrance. You've been out all day in hundred-degree weather and when you get to the office, all you want is a cold beer.
Instead of an ice-cold refreshment, you happen upon a curly haired Foster. In the kitchen. Running an ice cube along her neck with her eyes closed.
You stop and blink for a few seconds, wondering if you're hallucinating.
She seems to sense your presence and opens her eyes. For one eternal second, you see the desire, the come hither arch of her brow, the way her lids close slightly.
His mouth is ajar and he's got a slight tilt to his head, as though he's observing you in your natural state. You catch the way his eyes trace the movement of your hand along your neck, down to your breasts, and then slowly back to your eyes.
He's got a slightly dazed look about him that is endearing to the point of ridiculousness.
When his tongue absently slides over his lips predatorily, you remember that very real and very present danger. You straighten, smile quickly and toss the ice cube in the sink.
"Burnt my neck curling my hair this morning."
"Sure you did."