Warning: Explicit Sex.

They have a routine. Both of them go to work, then they meet in the middle of the day for lunch. Mickey drops Rose back off at Henrik's with a quick kiss before heading back to the garage himself. At the end of the day, Rose catches a bus home and within about twenty minutes of getting back to the flat, Jackie's shouting at her that 'himself' has arrived. Jackie always offers to cook, which makes Mickey visibly flinch and Rose hide a smile behind her hand. They go to the pub, sometimes grabbing a bite beforehand and sometimes just having it there. They have a few drinks, and Mickey watches the football, and the night winds down without much fanfare, even if they do go back to Mickey's afterwards.

It has its nice moments. It's definitely better than her so-called relationship with Jimmy ever was. But it's just so... boring. Rose knows she could do better. Still, she likes Mickey a lot. Loves him, even. It's just that half the time that feels more like friendship than anything else, as if the kissing and sex and all that is only there so they can have the illusion of being a couple.

Rose is tired of it. And she knows that Mickey's not going to be the one to change things. It's up to her.

Between swigs of his pint, Mickey's going on and on about some great car that's been put in at the garage for a service. Rose barely hears a word of it. All she sees is the excitement that animates his face.

"Show me," she interrupts him. "C'mon, you never take me to your work. Let's go now."

He knows she's never shown any real interest in cars before, which is probably just as well, considering that that kind of girl would never have been drawn in by Mickey's fifth-hand old Mini. So of course he's taken aback. But he doesn't protest, even though the football match he's been watching is only half over. When Rose really wants something, there's never really a question; she gets it.

She takes his hand and lets him guide her a few blocks away to the locked-up garage. It's not breaking and entering, she assures him. He works there. He even has a key.

Mickey still looks puzzled a minute later as he tracks down the keys to the car, squinting to see in the shadows cast by the single overhead light he's turned on. When he finds them, Rose snatches them out of his hands and deactivates the central locking.

"Open the door," she orders. "Passenger side." Again, he obeys without question.

There's no backseat, but it doesn't matter. A flick of a button will fold back the hard-top roof, and then they'll have all the headspace they need for what she intends. Rose reaches for Mickey's belt and makes quick work of it. His jeans practically fall down all on their own, and with just a little help end up bundled around his ankles along with his boxers. Finally getting a clue as to what Rose is thinking, Mickey glances towards the car and grins almost wickedly. He toes off his shoes and then leans down to grab his wallet out of the back pocket of his fallen pants before stepping out of them. She rolls her eyes at him when he shakes about ten condoms free of his wallet.

"You must think pretty highly of yourself if you think we're gonna need even a third of them, mister," she tells him. She pulls his shirt over his head and then runs a hand down his bared chest, enjoying the power of leaving his arms trapped in the material for a long moment.

"With good reason," he brags as he struggles to free himself. God, Rose hopes so. Things have always been so tame between them. This just might be one of the better ideas she's ever had, if it turns out it actually has any chance of changing that.

Mickey helps her pull her own shirt, jeans and underwear off, and then dives a hand under her bra to tweak a nipple before she pulls the covering off altogether, letting the cold air finish the job of stimulating her. His mouth follows the path of his fingers before she pushes him away with a laugh.

She shoves him into the passenger seat, then leans down the side of the car to adjust the seatback down before climbing in and straddling him. The feel of plush leather on her knees gives her somewhat of an idea how it feels for Mickey, half-lounging back into the comfortable seat.

Rose braces one hand on Mickey's shoulder while she uses the other to guide him. She leans forward and kisses him as she sinks down. Her hair falls like a curtain around both their faces, blocking out the depressing sight of the only partly-lit garage and leaving just the sensations of the two of them and the car around them.

Rose drives the pace, rocking fast and hard just the way she knows Mickey likes best, but is usually too careful with her to attempt. She grasps Mickey's hand in her free one and then directs it to the polished wood of the dashboard behind her, partly to give him leverage and partly because she's half-sure that was one of the things he'd been waxing lyrical over back in the pub.

He lasts longer than she expects, but it's hardly because he's not enjoying it. He comes with a much louder grunt than she's used to, and he's much less reticent than he usually is when he's all languid with the immediate after-effects of sex, keen to continue running his fingers over her. Maybe he's right after all; she might just manage to get several goes out of him tonight, if she gives him just a little recovery time.

For now, he lifts her up onto the dashboard and leans forward himself. The top of the windshield digs into her shoulder blades, but it fades fairly quickly into the background with the much more pressing feeling of his mouth on her begging for her attention instead.

His hands move from her thighs to her waist as she climaxes, solidly supporting her until she starts to come down. He pulls her back down to sit on his thighs, and she leans into him, letting their sweat mingle and his slick skin rubs against hers. It's comfortable, at least for now, before things get unpleasantly sticky. But it's not in the same way that things lately have been just a little too comfortable between them. This is anything but boring.

"As good as a proper joyride?" Rose pants.

"Better," Mickey says. "'Cept now I'm gonna have to come into work early tomorrow and detail the inside of the car," he complains.

"But worth it?" she asks.

Mickey pretends to contemplate that. "I dunno," he says. "The clean up's gonna be a lot of work."

Rose pokes her tongue out at him. "Hey, you're the one who thinks you've got enough stamina to need a whole pack of rubbers," she says. "Trust me, by the time I'm through with you, you'll be sayin' it was worth cleanin' out ten of these."

Mickey's eyes light up even more than they had in the pub, and Rose is pretty sure it'll be worth just as much to her as well.

As far as she's concerned, they're never having sex in Mickey's dismal little flat again if having it elsewhere means it's like this. She's already imagining the next place she can drag him.

She doubts he'll complain, somehow.

~FIN~