The Beard, a pitch fanfic

A/N: This is the response to a prompt I received on tumblr: Mike and Ginny are at a better place in their friendship. Ginny has taken to playing with Mike's beard at random times when they are hanging out. At first, it was to playfully mock him, but now she isn't really aware that she does it. It all comes to a head one night while having dinner at Blip and Evelyn's house. Not only does Evelyn see Ginny's actions, while they have a playful argument. She also see's Mike's look of total adoration as he looks down at Ginny.

So this piece is a little different from my usual stuff. Basically, it changes POVs after each "X". You can tell whose POV it is by the first name. I actually had a lot of fun setting the story up like this so if it goes over well, I'll probably do it well.

Ginny isn't even sure when it became a thing. There was a point in time when she hated Mike's beard, and had many a barbed remark to make about it, but something's different. Maybe it's the way he cleaned it up after he and Amelia ended their...whatever. Maybe it's whatever he shampoos it with that leaves it smelling like soap and impossibly soft to the touch. Maybe it's that he's found the perfect length: long enough to be soft but short enough to help him toe the line between mountain man and model. Ginny's loathe to admit it, but the beard has officially become hot.

And she's normally not so touchy, but there's something nice about scratching the wispy hair on her captain's chin. Maybe it's the sound he made the first time she did it, something between hum and groan that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. Maybe it's just the opportunity to touch him. Again, she's not really sure. She just knows that if he's close enough to touch (which is often) she's probably gonna do it.

Mike doesn't know what to make of Ginny's new attitude toward his beard. She was one of the few women who actually didn't like it. (Amelia was ambivalent about it on her face, adamant about it other places.) But something's different and now she likes to scratch it. It should feel strange, the way she almost pets him, but there's something about her fingernails gently scraping his skin (or maybe just Ginny touching him) that makes his mind short circuit.

He'd be lying if he said he didn't like touching her with it, rubbing it on her silky cheeks. He feels 7 again when he does it, holding her down to rub his face against hers, and her bubbly laugh almost brings him to the playground again (or at least a time when his back and knees weren't so brittle, and he had a chance with a girl like Ginny Baker).

It's Ginny's mind that short circuits when she arrives at his place and he opens the door in nothing but his jeans. She's aware that her captain is a large man (Evelyn once called him strapping and Ginny laughed at the Harlequinn romance novel compliment), but she assumes his love of beer would have left him...pudgy. He's nothing of the sort, instead boasting soft almost unstudied muscles. Her eyes wander over the expanse of soft curls across his chest and the trail down his stomach that disappears below the waistband of his boxers peeking out of his jeans. His eyebrows waggle and Ginny rolls her eyes at the smug grin on his face. "Pretty different from that bedroom poster of yours, huh, rookie?"

She snorts as he steps back to let her in. "If you wanna know the truth, I was wondering how you don't have a beer gut and love handles."

He shrugs and the muscles in his back flex. Ginny's ashamed of how hard her pussy clenches as she follows him into his living room. He points at the couch. "Park it, rookie. I've gotta finish getting ready."

Ginny rolls her eyes. "Don't use too much rouge. It makes you look whor-ish."

He laughs as he walks away and Ginny waits a moment before she follows him. His bedroom is exactly what she expects of Mike Lawson: minimalist decor and lots of black and white. She smirks at his upholstered leather headboard and the matching high-backed chair in the corner. His denim shirt is hanging on its back and Ginny's ashamed of the way she holds it to her nose to breathe in his scent. It's leather and sandalwood, soap and something that's just Mike. She replaces the shirt, moves on to look over his dresser. She smirks at his Obsession cologne, thinking it shows both his age and narcissism.

The bed's crisp white sheets draw her to it and she sits down tentatively, wondering which side is his. (Mike Lawson is definitely the kind of man with a specific side of the bed, if only to be crotchety.) She lays back, finds herself staring up at the night sky.

"Nice, huh?" She jumps at his voice and sits up. Mike nods at the skylight. "I never thought I'd like it, but now it puts me right to sleep."

Mike's not sure what possesses him to join her on his bed, lying back and looking at her until she does the same. There's something serene about lying beside her, her warmth radiating onto him, he might have relaxed except that he can't forget that he's in bed beside Ginny Baker. He almost stops breathing when she rolls onto her side to look at him. "So is this what you do? Ask girls to come look at your skylight then put the moves on them?"

He laughs. "Well to be fair, rookie, I didn't ask you. You came in here all on your own. But I'll admit the skylight's a conversation starter."

She snorts, reaches out to scratch his beard. "You don't date girls who can hold conversations, Lawson."

"I have sex with them occasionally." He smiles, points at the sky. "See that right there? It's the North Star."

Ginny rolls onto her back and looks up. She sees a few stars, none of which she'd point out as the North Star. "No it isn't."

Mike snorts. "Of course you know that now. But in the dark, after a few glasses of wine, you'd believe it."

Ginny laughs. "That is so sad."

Mike shakes his head. "It's not gonna work on you because you haven't had the Mike Lawson treatment. Rookie, if I had put the moves on you, you'd be eating this up."

"Oh I doubt that." Ginny isn't sure if she actually doubts it, or what she would do if Mike actually put the moves on her.

"Try me."

Ginny gives his beard another scratch and looks at him curiously then gets off the bed. "You're on."

Mike follows her to the living room and he leads her back to the front door. He's grinning mischievously, like he knows something she doesn't. "Now this is where it starts. We've had a nice dinner. I've told you a couple of stories about my heyday, asked you about yourself, maybe bought you flowers. Now we're back here for a drink, the most innocent of nightcaps."

Ginny snorts. "I think innocent nightcap is an oxymoron."

"Definitely. But if you were really looking for something innocent, you wouldn't have come home with me, would you?"

Ginny nods. "Point taken."

Mike takes her hand then reconsiders and wraps his arm around her thin waist. He gestures to the living room. "You know Mick Jagger used to live here."

"Really?" She's not sure if it's a line, but it's piqued her interest. And Mike's hand on her hip is giving her butterflies. He leads her to the living room and they sit on the couch. "Now usually I would leave the AC on so it's cold enough for me to turn on the fireplace. It gives the room a nice glow, and women love the way they look by firelight for some reason. So I offer you wine, then I give this surprised face-it's adorable-and suggest hot chocolate instead. I go into this bit about how I make the best hot chocolate in the world. I get the whipped cream on your nose, kiss it off, and you're ready to sleep with me right now."

"That does not work on women. I call complete bullshit."

Mike scoffs and stands up. "Give me a minute."

He goes into the kitchen and Ginny follows after a moment. She stands in the doorway, watches him pour a packet of Swiss Miss in a mug. He goes to the refrigerator, pulls out a carton of vanilla almond milk and shows it to her. "If a guy ever makes you hot chocolate with water, leave him. He doesn't care."

He microwaves the milk then adds it to the mug, stirring it gently. Ginny has to admit there's something endearing about the care he's showing. She wonders if it's for her, or if he's entrenched in the ritual. He tops the cup with canned whipped cream then takes it back to the living room. Ginny sits beside him on the couch and takes the mug. It's delicious, and there's whipped cream on the tip of her nose. She's not sure what to expect but his lips are soft and his tongue flicks the tip of her nose so gently that electricty runs down her spine, makes her shiver. She never thought she'd enjoy someone licking her nose He smiles, smug as can be. "Now you keep drinking and I keep doing that. Eventually it heats up and I ask if you wanna look at the stars."

Ginny pretends she keeps drinking, making sure there's whipped cream on her nose, to disprove his cassanova ritual's effectivenes. (It's defintely not because his tongue is warm and each time he leans over he puts his hand on her thigh.)

Mike can't believe he's doing this, putting the moves on his rookie. But she wanted to see him in action, and he wouldn't disappoint. And if it got him somewhere... Well he'd deal with that then.

He kisses the dollop of whipped cream off the perfect tip of her snub nose and looks up at her face. She's giving him what he can swear are bedroom eyes and his fingers flex, holding onto her thigh for a moment. His voice is low and if he could take his eyes away from her face, he's willing to bet money he'd find goosebumps on her arms. Her hands shakes a little as she brings it up to touch his beard. She doesn't scratch it like she usually does, just traces the outline of his chin. "Wanna go look at the stars, Baker?"

She nods, her tongue darting out to wet her lips and Mike realizes she's close enough for her to wet his lips too. He stands up, takes her hand, and leads her to his bedroom. They resume their spot on the bed and she looks up at the sky for a moment then turns to him. "So how'd you learn to do all this?"

"When I was in high school, I fell for this girl named Roxanne. And when I say fell, I mean dropped out of a plane with no parachute. So I asked her out one weekend when my parents were out of town, took her to the nicest place in Omaha, which was probably a Chili's or something." She laughs and he's grinning, blushing hard. "Well, after dinner, I brought her back to the house to hang out in my basement. The fireplace was a space heater and the skylight was an old tv, but the hot chocolate bit sealed the deal. I couldn't believe how much she went for it, but she stopped kissing me and gave me this look with her eyes all dreamy, and said 'This is the best date I've ever been on.' It's my personal mission to get that look from every woman who makes it to this bed."

He can tell she's ready to crack a joke, but nothing will come out of her mouth. And she's giving him a look that's very close to Roxanne's.

Ginny's breathless, her mouth incredibly dry despite the thickness of her saliva. She's not sure if it was his silly nose kisses or the image of a young love struck Mike Lawson that's making her want to kiss her captain. Or maybe it's just what's right in front of her face: the shirtless subject of her girlhood affections who had just given her butterfly kisses on her nose and was now looking at her like he was ready to move onto her lips. She isn't surprised when he does, but still her breath hitches as he cups her face in his hand, nudges her lips apart with his tongue then licks his way inside.

The beard feels nothing like she would have thought. It doesn't scratch or irritate, instead almost tickling her face as he explores her mouth. And so soft in her hands as she holds his face. He hums against her lips when her fingertips graze his earlobes and the sound makes her clench so hard she's sure he can feel it through her jeans. Something vibrates between them and it makes her hiss before she realizes it's her phone, remembers why she's at his house to begin with. Mike feels it too, pulls away and lies on his back in a way that shouldn't make her want to straddle him. She pulls out her phone. It's Evelyn, probably calling to chew her out for being late to dinner. "Hey Ev."

"You're late, Genevieve."

Ginny's cheeks flush with heat at Evelyn calling her by her full name, something only her mother does. "We're running behind. Lawson had to put on his makeup and wet set his hair."

He swats her thigh as he rolls off the bed and she laughs, extending her leg to gently kick his butt. It's then that she notices how much those jeans love his butt. She watches him look over the shirt on his chair then shake his head and go to his closet. He reappears a moment later with a black shirt and a muddy green one, and holds them up for her to choose. Ginny points to the black one and he puts down the green shirt. She watches him put on the black one and button it up before she realizes Evelyn's still talking. "What'd you say, Ev?"

"I said hurry up. Blip's already angling to eat dessert before you two get here."

"What's for dessert?"

"Lemon merengue pie."

Ginny's eyes light up and she suddenly notices the emptiness of her stomach. "We're on the way."

She hangs up, looks at Mike as he shrugs on the leather jacket that he thinks is so cool. "Evelyn made lemon merengue pie."

His face lights up just like hers. "Why didn't you tell me that when you got here? I would have never let you get me side-tracked."

Ginny rolls her eyes. "You're the one who wanted to show me your ancient mac moves."

Mike quirks his eyebrows. "They worked, didn't they?"

"You stole one kiss, old man. Stole being the operative word."

"You kissed me, rookie."

Ginny can't remember if she did, but she's almost positive he kissed her first. "That is a complete lie."

"It's definitely not. I was there. I would know." When she laughs and her nose scrunches up like it always does, Mike has to root himself to the spot so he doesn't kiss her again. Instead he picks up his keys and puts them in his pocket.

"Okay let's just say we kissed each other," she suggests.

"We can say that." He follows her out of the room and mutters, "Even though it's not true."

"Shut up, old man."

It's then that he notices she's not in her usual Nike gear. (She's the only person he knows who doesn't seem to own any clothes not made of lycra and spandex.) She's wearing a plaid shirt and black leggings (An unchangeable part of the Ginny Baker uniform. Mike doubts she owns actual pants.) and little black boots. A little sliver of skin between the bottom of her leggings and the tops of her boots. Why that's sexy, Mike can't say.

They leave the house and Mike can actually feel her standing behind him as he locks the front door. He turns around and she's not as close as he thought, but he can still reach out to brush her hair back from her face. She reaches out and scratches his beard and Mike's hand moves to the back of her head, pulls her close enough to feel her shaky breath on his lips. There's nothing shy about the way she looks at him and he's millimeters from her lips when her phone buzzes again and breaks the spell. He makes plans to break her beloved iPhone the next time he gets a chance. Ginny pulls out her phone nad looks at the screen then up at him. "Blip's got the pie."

Mike frowns. "Shit. Let's go."

Ginny doesn't want to hand over her keys for the simple reason that Mike expects to drive her around. And if there's one thing she loves, it's needling him. "Just get in the passenger seat, old man."

He shakes his head. "I've seen you drive, rookie. No way."

Ginny's not the greatest driver. She can admit that. Just not to him. She shakes her head. "I guess we're not going anywhere then."

Mike smirks, steps closer to her. "Baker, if I have to take those keys from you, you're gonna regret it."

Ginny's not sure what to make of his ominous smile, but she's never been one to back down from a challenge. And she's willing to bet she can call her captain's bluff. She jingles them before his face then drops them down the front of her shirt. "Do it then."

She's not sure what she expects but the way he grabs her isn't it. And she's definitely not expecting him to stretch her out on the hood of the car and trap her hands above her head. Her chest heaves, every nerve ending ready for him to cross another line, but he only lifts her shirt enough for the keys fall out. Still, there's something more to the intensity of his expression. Maybe it's the fact that he's between her legs, using his hips to hold her still. (It's probably definitely that.) He lets her hands go and picks up the keys, and Ginny has to remember what's going on to make her body stop missing his warmth and weight as she slides off the car. He gives her that Mike Lawson grin as he unlocks the doors of the black VW bug. "Let's go rookie. It's pie time."

She turns to head for the passenger side, actually pouting, and Mike smacks her ass to remind her who's boss. She snorts as she gets in the car. Mike leans in to let the seat back so he can fit in her clown car. "Why'd you buy this toy?"

She shrugs. "It's cute."

Mike rolls his eyes as he folds himself into the driver's seat. "For Barbie, maybe."

"Whatever. You wanted to drive so drive, old man."

They bicker all the way to Evelyn and Blip's house, disagreeing about everything from his speed to what radio station to listen to. By the time they park in the Sanders' driveway, he's sufficiently annoyed his rookie into a resigned silence, her head turned defiantly out the window. Mike thinks it would be the perfect moment to kiss her, especially the side of her neck exposed by her turned head. But they've played with enough fire for one night so he just gets out of the car, annoying her a little more by reaching over and opening her door.

Evelyn can see there's something off about Mike and Ginny the minute she opens the door. There's always something off about them (side effect of blatantly unresolved sexual tension) but this is different. They almost look...guilty. She decides to grill Ginny in private so she smiles as she lets them in. "I should starve you both for being late, but Blip's had enough to eat for one night."

"It was Mike's fault," Ginny replies immediately.

Mike snorts. "We probably could have saved 20 minutes if you weren't such a little shit about your car keys."

"We definitely could have saved time if you didn't need so much time to get ready. You always end up looking like a used car salesman. It shouldn't take you half an hour to get there."

Mike laughs and Evelyn smirks as she follows them, thinking the Mike she's known so long wouldn't take shit off any other rookie. "Fuck you, Baker."

"You don't have the hips for it, old man."

He laughs again as they plop onto the couch. Mike takes a slice of pizza from the box and Evelyn's eyebrows rise when he hands it to Ginny before he gets a piece for himself. He looks up at her and waggles his eyebrows. "Couldn't spring for the good pizza, Ev? Make Blip loosen the purse strings."

Ginny rolls her eyes. "This is the good pizza, old man. Way better than that cardboard from Sal's."

"Don't disrespect Sal's, rookie. It's been the best pizza in California longer than you've been alive."

Ginny snorts. "You've been in California longer than I've been alive but that doesn't make you special."

He laughs, bumps her with his elbow. "Fuck you."

Ginny laughs, bumps him back. "You have got to stop throwing yourself at me. It's embarrassing."

"Rookie, you wish you were that lucky." Evelyn almost thinks it's his usual shit, but there's something about the way he looks at Ginny that tells her he's the one who's wishing. Blip walks in and she gives him their "something's up" look. His eyes dart to Mike and Ginny and she quirks her eyebrows. She's surprised when he doesn't look surprised, instead just giving the faintest shrug as he on the couch.

Blip smirks as he pulls out the board game. "So I let Ev pick the game and she decided on scrabble because she's determined to have as little fun as possible."

Evelyn shoots him a look. "Whatever. I'll just team up with Ginny since you don't like my game choice."

He shakes his head. "Nope. You stuck us with this game so I'm sticking you with me."

Evelyn smiles as she sits beside him on the love seat. Ginny slides onto the floor and sets up the board, extending her long legs under the coffee table, and Evelyn looks at him again when Mike scoots over so she's between his legs. His eyebrows raise but he gives her a look that tells her he's not too surprised. They deal tiles and Ginny goes to work arranging them. She turns to Mike to get approval of their word and Blip watches him whisper in her ear, his arms moving around her as he rearranges tiles. He could almost write it off as simple strategizing (or ever whatever Mike and Ginny usually do) but Ginny blows that out of the water with a simple move. She reaches up and almost absently scratches his chin, pets him like he's a cat, and Mike doesn't react, instead going on with his rearranging.

"That's not a word," Ginny protests.

"It is." He picks up her phone and unlocks it. (Blip wants it to be normal—he knows Evelyn's phone code—but still). He types for a few minutes then shows it to her. "It is."

"I like my word better."

"But my word can get us more points."

"Not if we play my word horizontally."

He almost laughs at Evelyn staring at them like they've both got extra heads, but Ginny's still scratching his beard and there's something intimate (admittedly, there's always been something a little intimate between Mike and Ginny, but even he can't explain this away) about the way they're talking. Ginny rearranges the tiles one more time. "What about this?"

Mike's brow furrows and Ginny continues her scratching until he nods. "Okay. But the next one's mine."

Ginny puts down the tiles, spelling out "symphony", then stares at Evelyn and Blip with a challenging grin. Evelyn looks down at their tiles then at her him. They've got nothing so they use their turn to trade in some tiles. Mike and Ginny get new tiles too and Ginny sits almost contently as Mike's chin rests on her head while he arranges the tiles into his own word. They tilt their heads to look at each other for confirmation and Blip's honestly surprised they don't kiss. (When did that happen?) Mike plays his word, smugly racking up twenty-five points. They fist bump too naturally, not even looking at each other, and he can see that Evelyn can't take it anymore. She stands up. "Ginny come to the kitchen with me."

Evelyn scurries into the kitchen. Ginny looks confused but extracts herself from her Mike cove and follows her into the kitchen. As soon as the door swings shut, Evelyn rounds on her friend. "What's up with you and the mountain man?"

Ginny shrugs. "We're the same as always."

Evelyn shakes her head. "No. There's always been something between you but it's a different kind of something. Spill it, Ginny."

Evelyn's almost sure she's overanalyzing but Ginny's face reddens and she looks around like there might be someone else in the kitchen. "We made out a little."

Evelyn's mouth falls open. Very few things genuinely surprise her but this...this does it. Until Ginny opens her mouth again. "On his bed."

She's sure Ginny can see what she had for dinner at this point. Her expression doesn't change when Ginny explains, "It wasn't like that. He has a skylight and I said something about it that turned into him showing me his date routine and it got away from us a little and..."

She's not sure what her face looks like as Ginny's voice falls away. "Okay I was gonna ask about the beard-scratching but the can is open and worms are everywhere so... Wow. Okay. Wow."

"I didn't mean for it to happen, Ev. We were just fooling around and suddenly we were actually fooling around and... And I don't even know where the beard thing came from. It's just nice now. He trims it up and washes it with something that smells so soapy and manly and—" Her face reddens. "Am I talking really loud? I feel like I'm really loud."

Evelyn's sure she's never seen her friend so flustered. Ginny's talking a mile a minute and Evelyn suddenly remembers how young she is, how much she doesn't know. "It's fine, Gin. We've all kissed someone we probably shouldn't. But let's be frank. You and Mike have had this date from the beginning."

"But what do I do now?"

Evelyn does the only thing she can think of. She goes into the refrigerator and pulls out a bottle of rum. "Have a margarita."

"That's all you've got?" Ginny's expression is nothing short of horrified as she looks at Evelyn. "Wow, Ev. Way to offer guidance."

"Well if y'all didn't work together, I would tell you to sleep with him and get it over with, but I've got nothing on this situation, Gin." She pulls two bottles of mix from the cabinet and Ginny picks the pomegranate flavor. Evelyn mixes their drinks and Ginny stands on the other side of the counter, rocking on her heels. She finally looks up at her young friend, her smile mischievous. "So... How was it?"

"He's such a good kisser," Ginny whispers. "Even the beard feels good. And he does this rolling thing with his tongue..."

Evelyn can't stifle her laughter. She shakes her head, leaning on the counter. "Oh my god, stop talking!"

Ginny can't believe she's spilled so much. She looks at Evelyn for some kind of understanding but the woman only shakes her head as she pours margaritas. "Evelyn."

Evelyn shakes her head. "I am speechless. And you know I always have something to say but not now. My mouth is shut wide open, Gin."

Ginny shakes her head too. "It's just... Have you ever had that thing for someone? You can't even explain it but something just draws you to them? I feel like a moth. I know it's gonna burn to touch the light but I want it so bad, Ev."

"That's love, Ginny. There's a million reasons not to do it, and a million ways to get hurt while you're doing it-"

"Is it worth it, though?"

"Every day. Not all day, every day mind you. But every day. Sometimes Blip makes me so mad I could murder him. Like literally murder him. I get my axe and alibi ready, and then he tells me a silly joke or brings me candy and I remember why I married him in the first place."

"He makes me so mad, Ev. Like mad enough to fight him. And then he looks at me and suddenly I'm helpless." Ginny can't count the number of times she's been ready to take Mike's head off, on the field and otherwise, and then he cracks a stupid joke (his puns are enough to make her physically cringe), or just gives her that damned smile of his, and she forgets why she's mad.

Evelyn smiles. "Nothing to do about that, Gin. It just is what it is."

Mike looks at the kitchen door, wondering what's keeping the women. He's also deliberately not making eye contact with Blip.

"So what's up with the petting?" he finally asks.

Mike's gaze snaps to him. "What?"

"Ginny. She was scratching you like a cat."

Mike shrugs. "Just something she does."

"And something you like," Blip replies, smirking at his teammate.

Mike shrugs again, not wanting to have this conversation but he knows there's no silencing Black Yoda when he wants to talk. "It's okay."

"Is it? Cause you looked disgusted."

Mike laughs. "What do you want me to say, Blip?"

Blip shakes his head and sits back in his chair, and Mike is struck by how alike he and Evelyn have become after being married for so long. He's always heard that you start to act like someone after so much time with them (he and Ginny now take their coffee the same way, but that's a change to consider when he's alone) and now he's sure it's true. "Don't say anything to me. I'm not the one molesting your face."

Before Mike can give a smart reply, the women emerge from the kitchen with a pitcher of margaritas and four glasses. Ginny resumes her seat on the floor between his legs. She frowns at the scrabble board. "Let's play something else."

Mike looks down at the top of her head. "Something like what?"

Evelyn answers, "Let's play 'Never Have I Ever'."

Mike's not sure what to make of her almost villainous grin. He throws a look at Blip whose eyebrows are raised even as he nods. "Alright."

Ginny looks up at him. "You in, old man?"

He won't back down from the challenge in her eyes. "You're on, rookie."

The game goes exactly as he suspected it would. Ginny barely drinks. Evelyn's glass is half-empty. He and Blip are halfway through their second drinks. Ginny's grinning as she leans her head back on his left knee. "You're a slut, Lawson."

He tweaks the tip of her nose. "And you're a prude, rookie."

She laughs harder. "Forgive me for not being looser than Miller's bedsprings."

Mike cocks an eyebrow at her. "What would you know about Miller's bedsprings, rookie?"

She laughs again. "Nothing I can say out loud."

He laughs too, knowing she's joking. (Or hoping anyway. She and Miller do have their own thing that he doesn't get but envies because Ginny makes him 12 again.) "I take back my prude comment."

She reaches up to scratch his beard then asks, "So who's turn is it?"

He pops the tip of her nose with his index finger, smiling at the way it scrunches up. "It's on you, rookie."

"Okay. Never have I ever...had sex in public." Her eyes widen as the three other players drink. "Okay, everybody spill."

"Blip and I were at Disneyland and the Small World ride broke down. We got bored after like half an hour so we went behind some mechanical French children and... Long story short, they fixed the ride and we were asked to end our visit to the Magic Kingdom." Ginny collapses in a fit of giggles, sagging against his thigh and Mike's not sure if it's the story or her reaction that's so funny.

Blip shrugs. "Well it was the only thing to do that didn't have a line."

Ginny finally recovers and turns to him. "Your turn, captain."

Mike can't believe he's blushing. "I went to Gap to get a sweater and the salesgirl said she wanted to see how it fit. I'll spare you the details, but the sweater fit and I sent her flowers to apologize for getting her fired."

Ginny's laughter renews. She's curled in a ball laughing, tears streaking her face. She shakes her head. "I had no idea I hung out with so many degenerates."

Mike laughs. "You're just late to the party, rookie."

Ginny's stomach is quivering as she and Mike drive back to his place. He parks in his driveway then looks at her with a smile that's almost teasing. "Wanna come in for a drink?"

She raises her eyebrows at him. "I vaguely remember being told that that's a trap, old man."

Mike looks offended. "You think I'd put the moves on you like some cheap date? I'm hurt, Baker."

Ginny rolls her eyes but gets out of the car. "Alright. But you're making me more hot chocolate. And I want it cooked on the stove like grandmas do it."

She follows him into the house and is immediately hit by a chill. She smirks at the back of his head, realizing he left the AC on. Mike looks back at her with a grin. "Sorry about the chill, Baker. Must have left the AC on. Clumsy me, right?"

Ginny snorts. "Side effect of old age."

She kicks off her boots beside the door and stretches out on the couch, watching as Mike heads for the kitchen. "I want extra whipped cream."

"I bet you do, Baker." He laughs at his own joke and Ginny rolls her eyes. She gets off the couch and connects her phone to the iHome on his mantle. She calls, "John Legend or John Mayer?"

"Got any Hozier?"

Ginny's surprised. "You like Hozier?"

Mike can admit that he only likes Hozier because he overheard her playing it. "I've heard a few songs. He's okay."

He can't believe he's actually making her hot chocolate on the stove. The pots in his kitchen are mostly decoration, and yet there he is, warming milk and sugar to make hot chocolate for someone he can't sleep with. Well, he could. But he shouldn't. At least not tonight. Well, probably not tonight. He shakes his head, letting the thought go. Music wafts through the open kitchen and he turns away from the stove to watch her drop to her knees to fiddle with the fireplace until she gets it started.

When he's finished with her hot chocolate, the whipped cream piled high on it, he goes into the living room. She's stretched out on a blanket, staring at her phone. Her feet are kicked up, her ankles crossed, and he's reminded of that night with Roxanne, being naked and nervous with a girl who made his stomach tight. He shakes it off, joins her on the blanket, presenting her cup with a flourish.

"Why didn't you make yourself a cup?"

He smiles. "Two cups means we can't share."

She laughs, her curls bouncing. "Very clever, Mr. Lawson."

He watches her drink the cocoa, licking the extra whipped cream off her top lip but leaving a dot on her nose. Mike leans up, making his back groan, and pulls her face close enough to kiss it off. Whether he really wants to or if it's just habit, he can't say. She laughs, dips her finger in the whipped cream and pops it on his nose.

Ginny's not sure what possesses her to do it but she leans over and kisses the whipped cream off her captain's nose, but his sharp inhale makes the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. She pushes her luck, slides his ears between her fingers and he hums, rolls onto his side and pulls her into him. He squints at her, asks, "Are you drunk?"

Ginny shakes her head, slides her hands down to his beard and scratches the way he likes. "Are you?"

He shakes his head too, pulls her closer and Ginny wraps her leg around him. "So are we doing this?"

"You're the one putting the moves on me, Lawson."

He laughs. "You lit the fireplace, Baker."

"But you made the hot chocolate."

"Because you asked for it."

"You could have said no."

"Me say no to a woman?" He laughs again and Ginny's mind goes blank from being close enough for the sensation to vibrate through her chest. Ginny rolls her eyes, a smile tugging at her lips. "Wanna go look at the stars, rookie?"

Ginny smiles as she sits up. "Lead the way, captain."

Mike gets to his feet, offers his hand to pull her up, and holds onto it as he leads her to his dark bedroom. Ginny climbs onto the bed and lays on her back, looking up at the skylight and Mike stares at her lithe frame bathed in the moonlight for a moment before he joins her. He stretches his arm out and she snuggles into the curve of his body.

She's got the most feminine scent, jasmine and cinnamon, and Mike's ashamed of how much he wants it all over his sheets, all over him. He points to the skylight. "See the North Star, yet?"

Ginny snorts and shakes her head. "I know it's supposed to be visible from everywhere, but I'm not seeing it, old man."

He laughs, tweaks her nose. "You're supposed to agree so I can tell you something smart about astronomy."

She laughs too. "I can't believe women go for this."

"And yet here you are."

"Fully clothed and no more convinced to sleep with you than I was earlier."

Mike's willing to bet that that's a lie. "Well that's not the end of my moves. How it goes is that I tell you some random astronomy fact and then you're like 'Oh wow he's so smart' and I just shrug then I roll over and look at you."

Ginny won't ever tell him this, but there's something to his dog and pony show. Especially him rolling over to look at her with those steely blue eyes. And his hand is on her hip, his fingers flexing every few seconds. She can hear her voice shaking as she asks, "Then what?"

"I look at your lips." His eyes fall to her mouth. "Just long enough to give you goosebumps."

She's definitely got them on every inch of her skin, especially the curve of her waist warmed by his hand slipping under her shirt. And she's definitely a believer in his system now. She barely hears herself ask, "Yeah?"

"And then I look into your eyes again, really deep so you know something incredible is about to happen."

"Then what?"

She really doesn't need to ask, but his voice is so thick with arousal that she's desperate to hear it a little while longer. "Then it's just…happening."

She doesn't have to ask what's happening because his mouth is on hers and his hands are in her hair. Ginny twines her legs around his waist, hums appreciatively when he nips her chin on his way to the hollow of her throat. He peppers her neck with butterfly kisses and her thighs squeeze him tighter.

Mike almost doesn't notice it. He's having a hard time focusing on anything besides how good her skin tastes. But once the giggle erupts from her mouth, the record screeches to a halt in his head and he looks up at her. She covers her mouth, shaking her head, and Mike frowns at her. "Always a pleasure to entertain, rookie."

She shakes her head again. "It's not you. It's your beard. It tickles."

He smiles. That he can work with. He rubs it on her neck again, holding her still as she squirms. "No, no, no. You asked for it now take it."

"Mike stop!" He's never heard her sound so girlish as she wiggles in his embrace. He takes it a step further, tickles her sides until her face is red.

"Had enough?"

"Yes! Yes!"

"Who's the man?"

"Just stop!"

He tickles her harder. "Say it, Baker. I can't stop until you do."

She's trying to roll away from him but all she manages is turning onto her stomach. Mike rests enough weight on her to keep her from getting away. He keeps tickling her sides until she finally squeals, "Okay! Okay! You're the man!"

"Say it again."

"You're the man! Stop I'm gonna pee!"

He finally stops and collapses on top of her, plants a kiss on the crown of her head. "Good girl."

She lets out a breathless giggle, nudges him with her elbow. "Get off me, old man. And don't call me a good girl. I'm not your dog."

Mike laughs as he rolls off her but pulls her along with him. He wraps his arm around her waist, rubs her cheek with his beard to make her squirm again. "Yet."

"What?"

"You're not a good girl, yet, Baker."

Ginny turns to look at him and he smiles. "Is that so?"

He nods. "Good girls are made, Baker."

She gives him that snarky rookie look of hers. "And you're going to make me a good girl?"

"Very soon."

That look stays on her face. "We'll see about that."

Mike shrugs, not worried. She'll learn soon enough, and he's more than sure she'll like it. So he lays back on the bed, cups her surprisingly soft ass in his hand and gives it a squeeze. "So are we gonna discuss how you killed the mood?"

She laughs. "I didn't kill the mood. You didn't set it."

Mike scoffs. "You were completely hooked before you started laughing."

"I was stroking your ego, old man."

Mike answers by trailing kisses up her neck to the lamb-soft spot below her earlobe. She hisses when he tugs on the lobe with his teeth. "So I didn't set the mood? Maybe I should try again, huh?"

"Yes." It's so quiet that he barely hears it but there's no mistaking the way she trembles against him.

"I can't hear you, Baker."

"Yes." She's definitely louder and he smiles, kissed her, tugging on her bottom lip.

"Good girl."

A/N: Don't forget to review or leave a prompt/ request! XOXOXOXO