Clichés
by: raileht

Summary: The last thing Diane Lockhart will ever be is a cliché.
Disclaimer: The ones you don't know are mine, the ones you do aren't.
Rating: M

Pairing: Diane/Kurt a.k.a. McHart
Warning: it's got sex, alright?

NOTE: I can't do Marilyn Monroe sexy Happy Birthday and god knows Red (marysunshine81) doesn't swing that way…so what's the next best thing?

Clichés

-o0o0o0o-

The last thing Diane Lockhart will ever be is a cliché.

And she works hard at it, to be honest.

Right from when she could think for herself and understand the world, she has always made sure she was not going to end up as another sad cliché or end up as a statistic. She was her own person, she was different and she wasn't some tawdry cheap copy of anything.

She knew proper behavior and followed it—but she didn't conform in other aspects. She had her own mind, after all, and she was independent. Always had been.

That said, it also meant she also lived to make sure she didn't find herself in the usual dismal pitfalls that people—women—usually end up in these days.

She wasn't divorced, she didn't have unruly children painting the town red and she didn't have a husband with his pants down in front of any skirt he could find. And while some people might find her being unmarried sad or an unfortunate occurrence, she was more than ready to—surreptitiously with her usual brand of class—chat about their perfect marital and parental life.

Nine-point-five times out of ten, she was pretty damned sure that would shut them up.

Diane Lockhart knew well of glass houses and she's worked all her life to make sure her glass house was well and clear of any and all scandalous silhouettes.

Well, that is, until today.

"I can't believe I'm doing this right now," she hissed, her eyes narrowing as she stood behind her desk, "Not here, not now. I'm at work, for god's sake!"

"When? Every time I try to bring the subject up, you bolt," Kurt McVeigh returned, for once his unflappable John Wayne-worthy taciturn demeanor was being shattered for the world to see. "I've tried to talk to you, I've tried to clear this out, but you've done nothing but avoid it."

"Because there is nothing to talk about," Diane insisted. "Please. Tonight. I promise. Just not here."

"No, we're doing this now," he insisted and she had to wonder where the sweet, quiet man she'd gotten to know on and off had gone. In his place was an immovable force and she was damned if she was going to give him what he wanted, "Now or I walk out and this time, I won't come back."

"Are you serious?"

"Yes," he nodded and there was John Wayne again, "I can't keep sitting around, wondering what the truth might be. I can't stay if I can't trust you."

Diane gave him a look, "You can."

"Then tell me the truth," he paused, "Who's Jack?"

Yes, as far as clichés went, Diane Lockhart was pretty sure she was getting the cake now, fighting with her lover in her office about another man.

Good god, she thought, what had she gotten herself into?

-o0o-

"He's nobody."

"Yeah? I don't buy it," he shook his head, "You don't take calls outside. You don't hide your phone and I've not given you reason to. I'll ask again, who is he?"

"He is nobody," she repeated, "He's a guy I met and nothing more."

"You met? A guy you met, that's it?"

"He served me, Will and a few other people here when we got sued," she answered—she wasn't lying so far. "He's a process server."

"Are you getting sued again?"

"What? No. Why would you ask that?"

"Because last I checked, process servers don't call before they serve you and from what I've noticed," he paused, "He's been calling a hell of a lot."

"What? Have you been spying on me?"

"No, I'm just more observant than you give me credit for," he frowned, "I ignored it because I thought it was work. But you've been evasive lately. I want to know now. I'm done ignoring this."

"My god, you're paranoid," she muttered, looking away, "He served me at a gallery. We talked before it happened, I thought he liked art and didn't think twice he might've been there for me. We got along quite well. We talk sometimes."

"You talk, that's it?"

"Yes," and inside, she insisted that was the truth. She hadn't done anything with Jack to make what she was saying a lie.

"Then why the secret? Why hide it?"

"I had the impression that I had my own personal life," she said icily.

"Diane."

"What?"

"You're not deflecting me with your anger," he shook his head, "I'm asking. I want to know. Since I got back, you've been…different."

Diane crossed her arms across her chest, "You were gone for a long time. Things change. A lot has happened. And yes, one of them was meeting Jack."

"Who is he?"

"I already told you."

"No," he shook his head, "I'm asking…who is he to you?"

She paused, debating for a moment within herself before answering, "A friend."

"Just a friend?"

"Of course."

"Why don't I believe you?"

"I don't know," she shook her head, "But whatever you might think…I can't believe either."

He looked at her, "Believe me when I say I can't believe I'm thinking this too. But I can't help it. I've got eyes too, Diane, and what I've seen…something's changed."

And right then, despite the fact she had vowed never to be one of those women, never to be one of those people who end up crossing their personal lives with their work, everything just flew out the window then. The anger she'd been feeling broiling under the surface was making itself known and suddenly, a part of her felt something break.

It didn't matter, the glass houses and it sure as hell didn't matter she was in her office made of glass. Something had snapped then and even the legendary Diane Lockhart self-control could not contain it. Something broke.

"Who the hell do you think you are?"

He blinked at her, "What?"

If she wasn't so angry, she would have laughed at the expression on his face—it bordered on confusion and general cluelessness that worked against the intelligent man she'd known.

"You think you can just come and go, take what you want and leave!"

"Now, that's not true, I—"

"It is!" she snapped, "You come here when you need something, you come here and like an idiot, I go and god knows why but I do! Then what happens? You leave. Just like that, you leave!"

"That's not fair, Diane, last time I left, I asked you to come with me and—"

"And what? Drop my life for you? Drop everything because you asked?" she snarled, rounding her desk and moved towards him, "I am not some little kewpie doll you can drag around because you think you know better. This is my life, this is who I am. Either you take it or you leave it. You do not come in here, tell me you want to take me away and expect that it will be as easy as that! This is my life, for god's sake!"

"Diane—"

"No!" she cut him off, "You come and go and I've let you. No questions ask. I expect the same of you. I've been generous, much too generous and I question myself…but never you. You leave and you know what? Life goes on. Including mine. I was bound to meet someone else, I was bound to meet new people and until you make up your mind about what you want, about whether the next time you will come back after leaving again, I am not bound to you."

"Are you saying you've met someone else? That his Jack guy…he's someone new to you?"

"He's someone," she shook her head, walking past him and sat down on the visitor's chair in front of her desk, "He's nobody but before you came back…I considered him."

"Are you considering him now?"

"I don't know," she shrugged, "When are you leaving again?"

"I never said I was leaving again."

She looked at him, "You never say you're leaving until you leave."

"I didn't think it mattered to you."

"Just as I thought I didn't matter to you until you're here, in Chicago."

"That's not true," he shook his head, "Far from the truth."

"Does the truth even matter? Does it ever when you're here?"

"It does to me," he leaned back against the desk, crossing his arms as they looked at each other, "I didn't know you felt like that. You never say anything."

"Why bother? When you're just going to leave again?"

"You never said you wanted me to stay."

"I didn't think I had the right to," she shrugged, "And I was alright with that."

"What if I'm not?"

She frowned, "What?"

"What if I'm not alright with just coming and going?" he asked, "I've…I've always wanted to stay, Diane, but with you? You're uneven ground. I never know if I'm coming or going with you."

She didn't say anything so instead, he breathed in deeply and asked, "Is this guy the one you want? Because I can let you go, Diane. Just say the word and you'll never have to think about me again."

Diane looked up, eyes wide and surprised, "What?"

"I'm man enough to let you go," he shrugged, "If it will make you happier."

"It's that easy, isn't it?"

He stared at her, "No. Not at all. It's…it will be hard. You're not easy to get over, Diane, in case you don't know that. Why do you think I keep coming back?"

"I can think of a reason," she smirked.

He grinned, slowly, "I'm more of a gentleman than you might think, lady."

"I thought so," she drawled.

"So…" he stopped, "Just say the word, Diane, and I'll go."

Her eyes softened, "He's nobody, Kurt, I promise. We…talk. We went out…well, he stood me up and we went out—"

Kurt stared, "He stood you up?"

"That night…I came to you."

He took a deep breath again, "So, I was, what, back up?"

Diane gave him a look, "No…I just realized that night that I…missed you. More than I was willing to admit to myself. So I took a chance, went to you."

Kurt kept quiet, looking out the windows of her office.

"I didn't come to you just because I couldn't have Jack," she said, "I just realized that night that I missed you, that I was sitting there waiting for some guy who couldn't even show up or call ahead…that I had a perfectly decent man and I let him go."

"You said you saw him again."

"Nothing happened," she shook her head, "I didn't…I didn't know what we were. I didn't know you were staying in the same state, for heaven's sake. I gave it a shot. Nothing."

"Is that it? You just speak with him on the phone?"

She nodded, "That's it. We talk…he knows about you."

"And I didn't know about him."

"I know that wasn't fair, but…this is what I didn't want," she shrugged, "I didn't want it to be seen as a big deal because it isn't. We'd just gotten back together, we don't even know what we are…I didn't want to rock the boat."

"You never shy away from things like this," he pointed out.

Diane shrugged, "You're just as every bit the uneven ground to me as I am to you."

Kurt finally looked at her then, "Boy, have we bungled this up."

She chuckled, shaking her head lightly and placing a hand on her cheek, "Yes, we have. And I admit I messed up a little too."

He reached for her wrist, pulling her up until they were face to face, bodies barely touching but close enough to feel each other breathe, "If you want me to stay, I'll stay. Just ask me to stay."

Diane's eyes met his and for a moment, they just looked at each other until she smiled, "Stay."

Then he kissed her.

-o0o-

It was amazing how time could be obliterated by a kiss.

With her hand behind his neck, his lips pressed against hers and the most breathless kiss that tasted of gentle passion that turned into a suddenly ignited fiery lust that was lit inexorably by the intoxicating tangible essence of her lover.

It was a swirl of color and flesh and before she knew it, she was pressing him against her desk, bodies pressed together and her leg was trapped between his, pushing at her skirt. She gasped when his hands gripped her hips and he moved his lips from hers, down to her jaw.

"Oh, good god," she moaned, closing her eyes as her hands curled around the hair at the nape of his neck. His leg pressed hard against her and he was right there, knowing exactly what she wanted and for a moment, caught in a sudden dizzy spell, she wondered if she would even need to have him within her.

His fingers dug into the fabric of her black skirt while his other hand inched along the edge of the chalk white oxford shirt she wore that day, pulling at the tucked in edges.

And that was all she needed to get back to her senses, pushing back from him slightly with both hands on his chest, "No. Not here."

"You sure about that?" he asked, pushing against her bent arms between them, his knee pressing insistently against her, bunching her skirt in front while the edges of the back clung to the back of her thighs.

"I'm not doing this here," she hissed, "For god's sake, it's my firm and I'm in my glass office."

"The blinds are down," he reminded her.

"Not opaque," she ground out as she bit the inside of her cheek, feeling him pressing against her even more, "And the door-the door...the door's blinds aren't—oh!"

"Diane…"

She pushed against him though it was halfhearted, "I am not having sex in my office, I—Jesus!"

The laugh that came from him almost made her slap him, "You've never?"

"No," she grunted, pushing against him though he kept his hold on her, even going as far as slipping his arm around her waist. "I am not Will Gardner."

"For future references," he pressed forward and placed an open mouthed kiss on the side of her neck, "You're not supposed to say another man's name while we're…well, together like this. And that goes double for Will."

"Jealous?"

"Damn right," he growled, nipping slightly at her neck, making eliciting a laugh from her she had no chance of suppressing, which was his intended effect, "He gets to see you more than I do."

"He doesn't see me this way," she gave him a wicked grin.

"Better not," he grunted, his hold firm around her waist while the other began to pull at her button down in front.

"No, no," she squirmed against him, this time to get away, "Not in my office. I'm a professional and—"

He chuckled, reaching up to place his hand on the back of her neck and gave her a deep kiss, taking her breath away. When they pulled back, she was breathing heavily and was slumping against him slightly, "Just to remind you, darling, so was Clinton."

"You son of a—" he took the rest of her words away with another kiss, bringing out a gasp within her as he moved down her jaw then to her neck and there was nothing for her to do but thrown her head back and moan. He moved his hand to her lower back, pressing her harder against him as her knee bent a little while his ground against her.

"God, god, god…" Diane moaned, "Christ."

"Kurt," he said, "Unless you're up to upgrading me."

"You…smartass, oh!" she hissed, her eyes rolling to the back of her head.

"So I've been told," he chuckled, "Still saying no?"

"Bathroom," Diane's eyes flew open, pushing back against him hard enough to jostle her desk and everything on it. She was wild, nearly shaking with irrepressible lust that sent her blood boiling through her veins.

She grabbed him by the wrist and he didn't feel inclined to fight her as she pulled him to the third door of her office, this one solid wood and definitely opaque and she pushed it open. He followed after a shove from her, laughing to himself at the frenzy of her movements.

There was no sign of hesitation when she slammed the door closed and he followed, his back smacking against the wood loudly and she was on him with no second to spare.

Her lips burned against his and his hand slipped to the back of her shirt after a harsh tug, his touch falling on the burning skin on her lower back. She hissed, reaching between them with her eyes half closed and her lips trailing along his throat and unfastening his belt and then his zipper.

Kurt moved his lips underneath her ear, pushing her hands away and pounced, pushing her until her back was against the wall next to the door, pushing her skirt up until they bunched high around her hips.

Her teeth dug into the spot where his shoulder met his neck just as he thrust himself inside her, lifting her leg and he held on to her thigh, his fingers digging into her skin. Her gasps and moans filled the marble bathroom, joining his occasional grunts.

She arched her back, eyes widening and nearly rolling to the back of her head when he froze for a moment, savoring being this close to her, breathing her in as much as he breathed in the oxygen his body demanded under the strain.

But she wasn't about to wait long, pushing him back as much as she pulled him in at the same time, her mouth crushing against his in a wanton kiss. He continued his thrusting, accepting her bruising kisses as she accepted his nearly rough thrusts.

She could feel the muscles on his arm and shoulder, flexing and she almost forgot to breathe, her eyes slamming shut as she let him take her. At this point, if she was ever sane in her life, she could not remember. She didn't want to. Screw sanity.

He lifted her leg slightly higher up and she muted her cries with a bite to her bottom lip, chest rising and falling as she breathed in and out, gasping at times with each thrust. If she let herself speak, she might scream, if not, then she might not be able to help anything else that might come out of her mouth, not when he was pushing into her like that.

So instead, she pulled at the front of his shirt, bending her head forward and bit him again, this time, on the shoulder, right through his shirt. If he felt pain, he didn't show it, but she let her teeth dig into his flesh underneath the fabric, moaning and keening against him.

He pressed his head sideways to hers, eyes closed, and thrust into her one final time. He nearly slipped, letting go of the grip he had on her waist and braced himself against the wall while his other hand held on to her thigh.

Diane shut her eyes tight and stars exploded behind her eyelids, a loud gasp escaping her lips as she let go of his shoulder. He grunted, moaning out her name, his body pressing her harder against the wall, bodies shuddering against each other, breathing raggedly and spent.

"God, oh, god," she moaned as he slumped against her, letting go of her leg and their bodies slick with a shin of sweat. She could feel her heart rioting inside her as her head swam slightly. "God."

"Told you the name's Kurt," he mumbled against her skin, pressing another open mouthed kiss on the side of her neck.

"Smartass," she smiled shakily, breathing heavily still so her words sounded winded. She glanced at his shoulder, horror dawning upon her for a moment. The fabric was dark but she could see the imprint of her bite on it anyway, "My god, did I draw blood?"

"Probably," he shrugged, placing a hand underneath her jaw and made her look at him, "I don't mind. Heard the vampire thing's all the rage."

She made a face, "That's disgusting."

"Hey, you're the one who bit me," he shrugged then he kissed her, his fingers slipping through her hair, "Thank you for letting me stay."

"Not exactly what I had in mind," she glanced past him then felt another horror slam against her, "God! I'm a mess!"

"You're beautiful," he said as she pushed past him and faced the mirror she had completely forgotten had been there. "You look thoroughly—"

"I swear if you finish that sentence, you will regret it," she frowned at him as she fussed with her hair, eyeing the suspicious touch of red on the side of her neck.

Kurt chuckled, slipping behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, "We're even."

"Even?"

"My lab, your office," he smirked. "Even."

She groaned when he bent down, his teeth grazing along her shoulder in gentle bites that sent jolts through her still sensitive system, "You're insatiable."

"Only with you, darling," he smiled at her on the mirror.

She made a face at him, "I can't go out there like this."

"I don't mind staying in."

"I'm sure," she responded sarcastically, "God, what did we just do?"

"If I need to explain, then we must've been doing it wrong..."

"Shut up! I'm being serious," she elbowed him slightly, earning a laugh that he smothered behind her shoulder. He was so obviously happy, it was infectious so she smiled as well. She felt a little giddy though she knew it couldn't be helped, not after what had just transpired. Had she really christened her office bathroom?

"Don't you have clothes here?"

Her eyes lit up at the reminder, "Yes, yes I do!"

"And you have a shower."

"I do," then she saw his reflection, "Oh, no you don't. No! Once is enough. You're insane."

"Diane, if you're going to play around, you might as well do it all the way."

"Newsflash," she smirked, "We already did it all the way."

"Oh, that mind of yours," he pressed closely behind her, nuzzling her hair back and kissing the skin on the back of her neck.

She moaned, reaching behind her to grab viciously at his hip, "Damn you."

He chuckled, "But really…you've got a pretty nice bathroom here. Perks of being the boss and I can't complain. You know we can—"

"Kurt."

"I'm just saying," their eyes met in the mirror, a mischievous smile playing along his lips, "Clinton didn't have sex in his office…he had oral sex."

She closed her eyes, unable to help the laugh though she tried to anyway, her body shaking against his as she attempted to suppress it with her teeth sinking into her bottom lip.

Kurt just smirked behind her, pressing his face into her mussed, moist hair and breathed in and exhaled her name from his lips. He pressed his body close to hers, their temperatures still warm, skin still a little moist.

"You're going to be the death of me," she proclaimed and then she finally turned around, facing him with a wicked gleam in her eyes.

"I serve at your pleasure," he hummed, pressing a kiss full on her lips.

"Damn right you do," she growled and grabbed a fistful of his shirt, lips crushing and their bodies igniting once more.

And so, the pair of lovers spent the rest of the time getting clean and christening the private bathroom of Miss Lockhart on the 27th floor.

It was such a cliché having sex in the office, but somehow, for once, Diane didn't mind.

After all, clichés became clichés for a reason, didn't they?

Happy Birthday, Red.