My lame attempt as some sexy stuff…with a small dose of humour…I cant write anything without a small bit of humour in it. I really cant.

Again, this is not really for the D/L shippers out there. Though, if you do read, please no Flack bashing, and I would dearly love to hear your comments on the piece as a whole.


"Lindsay," Flack mumbled as she straddled him on the couch, her small nimble fingers making quick work of the numerous, and in her opinion, frankly too many, buttons on his shirt.

She didn't pay him any heed and once all the buttons had been popped, she dragged the shirt down his arms as far as it would go at present, and feasted on the tender, slightly stubbly flesh of his lower jaw. Paving a way down to his neck below. Her fingers fisting in the under shirt he had worn that day.

He was fighting a losing battle. If she continued the way she was going, he would be a goner.

"Lindsay," he said again, grabbing and tightly holding her wrists in his hands.

She looked up at him through a sheet of her hair. He could make out a faint blush across her cheeks and her eyes, which where fixed on him, where alive and bright. Her breath came in short gasps, as though she had just run up all the stairs to his apartment before jumping him.

"What?" she pouted, her lower lip jutting out more than usual.

She wriggled her hands experimentally, testing the hold he had on her.

He looked at her as she sat back on her hunches, her knees spread wide over either side of his thighs. "I don't want to rush things."

It was the truth.

After things had ended between her and Danny, and he had seen the way that she had dealt with it, he wasn't about to rush her into anything. He didn't want things between the two of them to end before they had even had a chance to begin - either because she was still on the rebound, or for the simple reason that she wasn't ready to jump head on into another long term relationship.

He was also, to a lesser extent these days, Danny's friend, and didn't want to be seen to be honing in his former girlfriend. At least, not when there had been a chance that things could have been rectified.

"Its been 3 months, 15 days and," she cocked her head to the side, looking past his and up at the clock that adorned the wall. "Approximately 2 hours since we went on our first date." she said, drawing him out of his thoughts. "Would you like to explain to me how that is 'rushing things'?"

"That long huh?"

"Don." she whined, biting down on her lower lip.

She pushed on his hands that still held hers in a tight grip. Pushing them so that her palms fell flat on the back of the couch and her face was right up against his, his hands now trapped by hers…not that he really wanted to go anywhere at that moment in time.

"I swear to god, Don Flack, that if I don't have you in me, in the next five to ten minutes then things are going to get messy."

"I like messy," he managed to tell her, his eyes alternating between her face and her body below, when she ground her hips hard against his and his mind went blank. He groaned.

"And there is no way in hell that you can tell me you don't want it," she said with a smirk while she tried to hold herself together and not melt in his hands. She kept herself tightly pressed against him, delighting in the feel of him beneath her every time he tried to move.

"So what say we," she managed to get out, gloating slightly, before the tables turned.

The world suddenly tumbled as she found herself falling backwards. Her back hit the softness of the couch and she was pinned down by the weight of his body on hers. She pulled her legs free from the tangle and wrapped them round his waist, maintaining contact.

"You are a distraction, Lindsay Monroe," he said, trailing his hot breath down her face and onto her throat. Pausing to blow lightly on a spot just behind her ear. She moaned. "A lovely" kiss "Beautiful" kiss "Distraction" kiss "And I've decided that you need my full attention."

He sat up with some difficulty, pulling her with him. As he stood, she placed her hands on either side of his face and drew him into a kiss. As it deepen, he tightened his grip on her and slowly navigated his way to the bedroom.

It was somewhere where he had been many, many, many times before, but with her in his arms and assaulting his every one of his five senses, it took far longer than usual to cross the simple eight foot space between his couch and the bedroom door.

"Why five to ten?" he asked, removing his lips from her throat to look over her shoulder and judge the distance to the door. It still seemed like it was miles away.

"hmm," she murmured, lifting her head from his shoulder, where it had dropped when he began to nuzzle her throat.

"You gave me a time limit of five to ten minutes Linds," he reminded her as they reached the door and he tried to get it open. His had slipping from the door knob in his haste.

Her hand came from to join his, gripping the door knob and turning, allowing the door to swing open of its own accord and he stepped through it, kicking it shut behind him. "Oh," she said, "Because I demand some foreplay."

He paused beside the bed, "I don't think you're any in position to demand anything Miss Monroe."

She smiled at him before using her weight to over balance him, and they both went crashing down onto the bed, him beneath her. "I think I'm in the perfect position Detective," she told him as the fall found him pulling her down more securely on top of him.

"In fact, I'm exactly where I want to be."