Title: Say You Don't Want It.
Pairing: C/G
Rating: K
Disclaimer: Lie to Me and the characters herein are not mine. Rosa Mexicano is delicious and should be sampled if you're in the D.C. area.
Summary: "Typically, Foster, kissing tends to extend the bounds of friendship."
A/N: I've a penchant for writing in the second person, as other fandoms *coughBonescough*, well know. Sorry if that isn't your cup o' tea. No beta all mistakes are mine. Thanks for reading, please enjoy.
.::.::.
Love is a faultless desire.
The act itself, unconditional;
Until tarnished by man's folly
.::.::.
"Say you don't want it."
"Come again?"
.::.::.
It's late. Emily's waiting for you at home, but you took Foster out for dinner because she did a bang-up job on the case and food is the best way to thank her without ever having to say it. You both went light on the wine, nothing to atone for this evening. Just a good meal and great company.
When Foster said she wanted to eat at Rosa Mexicano over at National Harbour, you had to make a huff, if only because she expected it. Sitting at a small table outside, conversation wandered aimlessly throughout your meal. You kept getting distracted by her perfume. It hung in the muggy air then would carry on the breeze and you'd find yourself momentarily lost in her scent.
Sometimes, you'd catch her looking at you with a little twinkle in her eye and you knew that look. It was her happy look.
"When you look at me like that, I feel like I'm dressed in a pudding costume. You aren't going to eat me, are you?"
"Hadn't thought about it," she replies coyly as she crosses her legs, her foot mere centimeters from your calf. "Though, if you were covered in pudding, we could certainly forgo this strawberry shortcake."
You smile at her response, a low hum in your throat. Gaze settling on the passersby walking along the water, you slide your chair closer to hers, shoulders and forearms brushing at intervals as you lapse into silence over tea.
.::.::.
"This… us…You and me," she whispers and it catches a bit on the breeze. "Say you don't want it."
You can hear your heartbeat in your ears for those endless moments. The shadows pull at her features, distorting your ability to get a full read off her lovely face.
.::.::.
After paying for the meal, you both decided to wander along the pier, both unprepared to part for the evening. Foster mentioned something about Emily and her new boyfriend. Surprising you both, you said he wasn't half bad. You felt her laughter as she slipped her hand along the crook of your elbow, the subtle shake of her head at your words.
"I assume you did a background search?"
"Why else do you think I said he wasn't half bad?"
She shrugged as she cast a look at you. "Background checks don't account for personality, Cal."
"He had a strong handshake, good eye contact, called me Sir, and held the door open for my daughter. All the last guy did was bring her a shoddy rose from a grocer."
"Oh? And you've never given a girl cheap flowers before?"
"No, just a world of trouble and a kiss to make up for it."
"Then what do you give to the ones you really care about?" her tone was flippant, but bordered on serious.
.::.::.
"It's not a matter of want, Foster," you say as you turn and take a step towards her, almost afraid to close the distance. "The want is undeniable," your head falls to the side, "I just… I don't want to hurt you."
While you speak she keeps her head bowed as she closes the distance, until all that's between you and her is sheer will power.
.::.::.
"Let's see… a world of trouble and free dinner?" you tried to say it with nonchalance but by the set of her jaw, you've missed your mark. You wondered what had changed over the past weeks for her to be so forthright in her approach.
"But no kisses?" she asked, tone still light as her eyes flickered to yours then straight ahead.
It was then that you felt a sudden lurch in your chest and realized this was the moment. It was the moment you'd both been dancing around for years, and for once, it wasn't precipitated by tragedy, stupidity, recklessness, or alcohol.
"Typically, Foster, kissing tends to extend the bounds of friendship," you offered lightly, still searching for a way to proceed.
"My point exactly," she replied evenly. "Is there anything wrong with that?" Something in her voice — the certainty, perhaps — struck you as unnerving. She must have been biding her time for a couple weeks, working up the courage to approach the matter. While you, well, you don't quite know anymore.
"Foster —" you'd wanted this, wanted her for so long, and now faced with the opportunity, you found the reality a bit too much to swallow. "There's a lot at stake here…"
She stopped walking at your words, her hand slipping from your arm as you walked a couple paced forward. Too wary of the look you'd find on her face, you didn't turn around, unable to breathe for those endless seconds.
"Say you don't want it."
.::.::.
Her hand glides up your chest, stopping at the base of your neck where her index finger dances along your jaw. Your eyes close and you swallow hard at her touch. For a moment you both stand there breathing in each other's air. You clench your hands tightly in your pockets, wary that they'll act on their own accord.
She speaks softly with so much conviction and trust that you forget to breathe. "Then don't hurt me."
When she tilts her head up and brushes her lips against yours, you can't decide if she's taunting you or trying to break your resolve. Whatever it is, it works, especially when her hand slips to the back of your neck and she presses harder. Seconds lapse and somehow your hands have wandered out and are clutching her hips tightly.
She pulls away, only a fraction and looks you in the eyes, the twinkle — her happy look — is still there, but magnified ten-fold. Your gaze falls to her reddened lips and you lean forward to capture them with your own. Tongue darting out as her mouth opens; you absently note that she tastes of strawberries, until all thought abandons you when the kiss depends in fervency.
You break apart in need of air, foreheads pressed against each other as you take in the feel of one another. The sudden trill of your phone breaks the moment, and you growl at the interruption.
"That'll be my daughter," you mutter as you pull away from her, tucking her hair behind her ear. You surprise her by pulling her in for one more kiss, loathe to part.
"I'll see you tomorrow?" you ask because tomorrow is Saturday. She grins at the shameless hope undisguised in your voice and nods.
"No where else I'd rather be," she replies, patting your chest as you step away slowly.
"C'mon, love. I'll walk you to your car," you sling your arm around her shoulder, relishing the feel of her tucked close to your side as you walk in synchrony.
When you reach her car, she's more reserved, but thrumming with happiness and it's rubbing off on you. Just for the night, you let it.
"You never said either way, you know… Whether you wanted this or not," she says hesitantly.
"Actions speak louder than words," you reply as you bestow a kiss of promise on her forehead. "Much louder."
.::.::.
A/N: And that's as mushy as I get. Need me some angst. ASAP. Thanks for reading.