Author's note: Just a quick thanks to those of you still reading and reviewing. The following is, as promised, a lovely M-Rated, smut-filled chapter. Please welcome Chapter 10, in which our heroes engage in a close encounter of the first-time kind, and in which plot advances. Please let me know what you think!
CHAPTER 10 -
Lips against skin and clothes flying off. That was how it happened, or so she would say if interrogated.
It had started as a kiss in the kitchen, a thank you for artfully-made sandwiches. But then, with no warning, she was pressed against the fridge, her arms around his neck, her legs around his waist, his body flush against hers. His mouth trailed kisses down her neck, his strong arms kept her stable. Refrigerator magnets got knocked off and scattered.
She had started tugging at his shirt, and he made a conscious decision, probably the last fully-mental decision of the night. He carried her into the bedroom, avoiding sharp corners of furniture and doorways. He closed the door, almost tripping on his shoes. He set her down, her feet touching the floor softly.
The stood, forehead to forehead. Maybe she was standing on the tips of her toes, maybe he was slouching. It was hard enough to breathe without concentrating on the details. Their eyes locked and he was certain he'd never been this close to her. Ever. He could see every one of her eyelashes, feel every time she exhaled.
She pulled off his t-shirt as he attempted to open her blouse, the buttons so tiny he felt ridiculously inadequate. He felt almost like he was fumbling.
She kissed him hard and he forgot about the buttons for a second, until she pushed him away. A mischeivous glint in her eyes, she started undoing the buttons one by one, just out of his grasp. He watched, mesmerized as she put on a show for him, slowly unbuttoning her blouse.
But she didn't take it off. Every button undone, it hung on her, just waiting to be pushed off.
He did just that. His lips on her neck, his hands pushed the fabric until it slid off her shoulders. Her bare shoulders that he just needed to kiss.
Her breathing grew shallow as he moved behind her, kissing the top of her spine, his hands fanning out on her belly and holding her close. He moved to unhook her bra, his fingers sliding under the elastic. Slowly he let the straps drop from her shoulders and then he was there, his hands cupping he breasts, hands too large for such small breasts, she thought. He didn't say how perfect she was because he thought it wasn't time for overstating matters.
He kissed her nape, the tiny hairs standing on end at contact.
His hands slid down her belly, to the top of her jeans. He took a breath to ask for permission, but she nodded swiftly, getting there before him.
She leaned back into him as he undid the top button, the slowly unzipped. He pushed her jeans gently past her hips, his thumb tracing her navel. The pants rested atop her feet for a while, as his hands travelled to her thighs, back up her hips. He smiled against her skin and she could almost feel it. "What?" she whispered, her breath catching in her throat.
"Nothing," he whispered back, his voice almost giddy. That he made her lose her breath...
"Your turn," she said, turning to face him. Her hands on his hips kept him just far enough, not close enough to kiss her, but close enough to inhale the scent of her shampoo. He leaned into her hair, groaning as her fingers skimmed the top of his jeans. "Good. It's about time," she whispered. He smiled, his hands moving to graze her back. She shivered. "You're kinda knocking my concentration."
"That's the point," Piz said, laughing.
She felt his breath on her scalp and she smiled too. "Ooh, button fly," she said, her fingers undoing the top button. Piz sucked in his breath. She laughed. "Yeah, that's what I thought."
She slowly, tortuously, undid the rest of the buttons, her fingers lingering over him. His jeans dropped to the floor with a plop.
Veronica looked up into his eyes. He was waiting for her to make a move.
She nodded almost imperceptibly.
Piz leaned in to kiss her, lips meeting lips. She pushed his boxers off and he tried to keep his focus, but it was impossible, his lips stilling for a fraction of a second as she left him completely naked. His hands made their way up to her face, and he kissed her with so much more force.
She broke the kiss, a smile on her lips and in her eyes. She took a moment to look at him. All of him. Even in the dimly lit room, she could tell his cheeks were flushed. She felt a rush of heat as her eyes scanned his body. He was hard for her, his eyes devoured her.
She felt parched, her mouth dry at the sight of him.
She took a few steps back, towards the bed, and tilted her head to the side, beckoning him closer. He didn't need much by way of beckoning. The sight of her, prancing around in just her panties, was more than enough. He stepped out of his jeans and bent over for half a second to pick something out of his backpack. Two foil packets.
She was thinking of a clever thing to say, but he didn't let her get to it. He dropped the condoms on her dresser by the bed and then he closed in on her. His mouth covered hers and suddenly, they were attempting to defy the laws of physics, somehow trying to occupy the very same space. Her hands travelled down his body, touching him, revelling in the muscles and skin. Her short nails dragged on his hips and she could feel him tense under her touch. His eyes closed as her hands ventured lower still, fingers closing around him. He moaned her name into her mouth and pushed her hand away.
And then she was lying on her bed, his hands dragging her panties down her legs, as he nipped at the skin behind her knee, between her thighs. "Piz," she hummed, her voice strained.
His breath hit her first, warm air and then the pull of his mouth just where she needed it most. His tongue, hot and... she felt a moan leave her mouth and bounce off the walls. Then another. He licked her slowly, sucking her in...
Her hips began to move to the rhythm he'd set and she felt a wave of heat rising as he stroked her just to the edge of her breaking point.
And he stopped.
She gasped, confused. In the haze of heightened sensations, she couldn't understand. "Don't stop," she pleaded. "Please..."
He smiled, taking a second to torture her. He sucked on her inner thigh and trailed kisses on her skin until he was back at her center. And then he renewed his assault.
Two quick flicks of his tongue and she was there, undone, throbbing, her moans nonsensical combinations of his name and curse words.
He travelled back up her body, lapping up stray beads of sweat as he went along. He kissed her chin, her neck, waiting for her eyes to open. He nibbled on her earlobe before whispering, "You taste so fucking good."
"Hmmm...." she managed, smiling through closed eyes. "You..."
In any other occasion, he would have grinned, satisfied, but this wasn't any other occasion. There was something different. Not just the empty apartment, or the tacit permission she gave him. It was about them. He wanted her so badly and, for the first time in their short relationship, he could tell they were on the same page. He whispered into her ear, something only for her, his arm reaching for one of the condoms.
"You boyscout you," she whispered, eyes hungry. She sucked on his collarbone, smiling. Glowing. There was something light about intimacy with Piz. It felt new, untarnished. She felt new.
He ripped open the foil packet and felt Veronica's hand on his. "Let me," she said.
He nodded slowly.
Piz sat on the edge of the bed, and Veronica climbed atop him, her legs straddling his hips. She grinned, eyes sparkling, as she slowly stroked him.
He groaned against her shoulder. "Veronica," he said, and even her name felt new on his lips.
She rolled the condom on him, carefully, and she felt him jump in her hands. She laughed. "Hey," he said, eyes half-lidded as he brought her closer. "It's not fair to laugh at my predicament."
"Laughing with you," she whispered. Their eyes trained on each other, Veronica used her hands to guide him to her center.
Contact was delicious, resistance was futile.
Nose to nose, lips to lips, eyes too close to focus. They breathed each other in as Piz entered her slowly. His hands steadied her hips. She bit down on her lower lip, her grin disappearing gradually, replaced by a slow revelling in this new reality. She gasped when she felt him inside her completely.
He waited half a second, breathing her in. He gave them a moment to adjust, his hands running up and down her back. She leaned in, her lips brushing his, her arms settling on his shoulders. He trapped her lower lip between his teeth, teasing her. His tongue danced across her teeth, dipped into her mouth. Slowly he started their movements, easing himself out of her and then back in, setting a langourous pace. She whimpered into his mouth with every thrust.
There was something messy about sex with Piz, she thought for half a second before he thrust inside her again. Something completely uncalculated and spontaneus. The way he pulled her closer, changing the angle, speeding up his thrusts to meet the climax building inside her. The way his arms surrounded her. The way his mouth dragged on her neck, to her breasts. And he would groan in pleasure as he thrust deeper and deeper into her.
And his smile, that knowing smile when she moaned, when her back arched.
Fun.
It was fun.
Her hips moved to meet his thrusts and he thanked whatever gods he needed to thank that he had his feet firmly planted on the ground, helping with the whole leverage thing. His hands on her shoulderblades, he could feel her body tense around him. But her face... her eyes, half-lidded, unguarded, her mouth showing the beginnings of a smile.
Naked. Truly naked.
He smiled against the skin of her neck and softly whispered in her ear. Her name. Nothing but her name.
She shivered. "Close," she whispered, and he knew she was. "So close." And there it was. A shadow of a smile.
Somehow, invoking any and all athletic expertise, he managed to flip them on the bed, until he was on top of her. Entering her again, he kept his thumb on her clit, pressing down. And he thrust inside her, again and again. So close. He felt her tighten and contract, her back arching off the bed, his name a hiss between her lips.
Two more thrusts and he was right there with her.
He buried his face in the crook of her neck, kissing her shoulder softly as their movements stilled, her name a prayer.
A couple of minutes later, when all the mundane aspects had been dealt with, he lay beside her, naked still, soft kisses on her shoulder.
Just as naked.
She reached up her hand to push his hair off his forehead, while he kept drawing circles on her belly. "Mmmmm," he hummed, his eyes half-closed.
She giggled. Could she remember the last time she'd giggled?
"What?" he asked, his eyes opening. His index finger drew a straight line from her navel to her chin, and she laughed this time.
"That was fun," she said. "Really fun."
Piz quirked an eyebrow. "Fun?" he asked, his smile widening.
She laughed. Full on, belly laugh.
"I'm going to take this the best possible way," Piz said, resting his head on the pillow and looking up at her ceiling.
She caught his hand in both of hers and kissed his open palm. "You should," she said, the laughter subsiding.
He caught a glimpse of her in the darkened room. Her smile was even better than her afterglow.
"So... Fun? That's what I get?" he asked.
Veronica contained a laugh. "These things are fun and fun is good."
"You're quoting Dr. Seuss at me?" Piz laughed. "Don't I feel sexy."
"You should feel very sexy," Veronica said, her consonants dragging in some fake accent. She rested her head on his shoulder, grinning.
"I should?" he asked, eyebrows raised. "Enlighten me."
"You made me laugh... you made me... you know..." she blushed and he smiled. He'd made her blush. "All in the middle of this fraking week. You are my superhero."
"Hmm," Piz said, pulling her closer. "I could get used to being a superhero."
"My superhero."
"Your superhero."
"Now, my superhero, I suggest we take a shower and get in our jammies, lest we fall asleep naked and wake up to shocked parental unit."
"Did you just say we should take a shower?" Piz asked, raised eyebrow and smiling eyes.
"Oi, Piznarski, you are one smooth superhero guy."
- - - - - - - - - -
Daybreak filtered in through the blinds obscenely early. This was one thing he had yet to get accustomed to in California: early, inclemently sunny mornings starting at five-thirty AM during summer.
Piz turned to find an empty space beside him. No matter how early he woke up, Veronica always
had a head start.
He sat up and stretched his arms. His legs were, of course, killing him, but it was a decent trade off for the previous night. He shuffled to the doorway on bare feet, only to find Keith Mars staring back at him from the kitchen, with Veronica nowhere in sight. "Morning, Stosh," Keith said. "Coffee?"
"Uh, thanks Mr. Mars," he answered, his hands pressing down on his hair. Awkward, he thought. Very awkward. "Veronica?"
"You called?" Veronica asked from the living room, where she'd just been out of sight, going through tabloids.
"Morning," he said.
"You look different, Stosh. Doesn't he look different, honey?" Keith asked, pouring Piz a cup of coffee.
Piz stammered, before deciding to say nothing.
"It's probably just his hair," Veronica said from behind the paper.
"Probably," Keith agreed. "No movement on the Casablancas front. I'm gonna sleep a couple of hours before heading over to the Lab."
Piz narrowed his eyes. "Doesn't the new sheriff mind you hanging around?"
"Ah, you see Stosh, for Vinnie Van Lowe to care if I'm at the Lab, he'd first have to figure out where said Lab is located," Keith clarified. "And with that bit of parting wisdom, I leave you."
"You have a nice nap," Veronica called.
Once Keith was out of earshot, Piz's eyes widened. "What was that all about?" he asked.
Veronica lowered her paper. "He has this weird psychic ability..." she answered.
"Creepy."
"He's just messing with you," Veronica offered. "Did you know it only takes fourteen aliens to change a lightbulb?"
Piz took a long sip of coffee. "No, I did not know that."
"Ah, the beauty of the Morning Starr. They took over the Inquisitor and, at first, there was some editorial hostility. You know, one wanted a picture of a naked aliens, the other wanted a picture of a Naked Katie Holmes abducted by naked aliens. Finally, they figured out how much they had in common."
"Here's to naked aliens," Piz said, raising his cup to hers. They clinked mugs. "Do I get a kiss good morning or is this the way you treat all your men?"
"I guess since you didn't see the revolving door in my closet, I'm gonna have to kiss you," Veronica offered. She leaned towards him and captured his mouth in hers, pulling away just as he started to deepen the kiss. "I'd love to take this to its logical conclusion but I have work to do."
"I have one last shift at the radio for the graduation announcements. The ceremony's this afternoon," Piz explained. "You'll have to count out my sleuthing skills."
"I think I'll manage," Veronica said, glancing back at the paper. "Ooh, look, flying fish!"
Piz pulled the tabloid away, as she clutched it tightly. "Let go, woman."
"Neveeeeeer," she called out, following Piz around the kitchen as he ran away from her, tabloid in hand.
- - - - - - - - - - -
Piz hummed to himself on his way to pick up Wallace, and then, when Wallace got in the car, he kept right on humming. He hummed at every stoplight, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel.
"Why are you so happy all of a sudden?" Wallace asked.
Piz stopped humming but couldn't stop smiling. "I'm always happy."
"No. Sometimes you're mopey, and sometimes you're silly. But you don't hum all the time. Unless... Aw, man?!" Wallace attempted.
"What?" Piz asked.
Wallace closed his eyes, as if shielding himself from something. "Don't tell me, I don't need to know. What you and Veronica do is your business."
"I wasn't going to tell you anything," Piz pointed out.
"Humming is just as bad as telling."
"It's just humming."
"It's sex humming."
Piz chuckled. "Sex humming, huh?"
"Yeah."
Piz turned the radio up and kept right on humming.
- - - - - - - - - - - -
The cafeteria was buzzing with the breakfast crowd. Piz walked in to what seemed almost a sea of people, compared to the last time he'd been in here. No puddle of blood. A couple of girls sped past him, their graduation robes balled up in their hands.
He had the morning's first shift but he was still surprised to find Weevil, wearing his janitor overalls and waiting by the door to the station. Piz offered a handshake. Weevil took it.
"Do you need to..." Piz asked, pointing to the door.
"Nah. I just wanted to check up on things around here. I couldn't stop by V's place this morning," Eli explained.
"She's supposed to be there all day, watching the blinking light on the surveillance system. I'm not buying it," Piz explained, opening the door to the station and flicking on the light and power switches.
"Hey, mind if I take a look around? I wanted to the other day, but with Fennel bleeding and all..."
Piz shrugged. "Knock yourself out. The records are in the back."
"I'll steer clear of the equipment," Eli said.
"As long as you don't touch the presets on the broadcast console, everything's cool."
"Everything's cool until something gets lost and there's a chicano in the room," Weevil muttered.
"Veronica trusts you," Piz said, walking into the broadcast booth. Through the glass he saw Weevil laugh to himself, aware of the implication of what Piz had just said. Veronica's trust, so hard to earn, was Eli's. And that, in and of itself, made him trustworthy in Piz's eyes.
Piz adjusted his headphones and turned the "on the air" light in the broadcast desk. Pulling the microphone closer, he said, "Good morning, Hearst and let's hear it for the class of 2007."
- - - - - - - - - - - -
Piz was down to the last record of his shift when he noticed someone outside the broadcast booth. Squinting, he could make out the shadow of a tall male. Not Eli.
He let the song start and walked up to the glass. Upon closer inspection, he found himself staring back at Logan.
Piz would have rolled his eyes, but it wasn't the appropriate response to whatever brought Logan here.
At least there had been no bursting into the booth.
Piz signaled for Andy, a sophomore who was taking over the next shift, to step inside the cabin. They exchanged a handshake and Piz stepped outside to the control room.
Logan offered his hand. Piz hesitated a second, but shook it.
"Weevil mentioned you were around," Logan said.
Piz nodded. He started towards his locker, Logan trailing not far behind. "Weevil doesn't strike me as a person who mentions things."
"Yeah, well, he owed me a favor. I asked about Veronica, and he gave me your coordinates. Which, I guess, makes it official," Logan explained.
Piz grabbed his backpack from the locker and glanced at his watch. "I'm hungry. Are you hungry?" he asked.
"I didn't come here to bond, Piznarski."
"That's fine by me," Piz answered. "But I'm going to have lunch now. And you can either sit down and watch me eat while you ask questions, or you can also get lunch."
"Lunch?"
"Yes. Revolutionary idea, right? A meal at approximately noon."
"Sarcasm. Cute," Logan muttered. "I'm not sharing my fries," he added, following Piz out of the station.
- - - - - - - - - -
Veronica was, for lack of a better word, bored.
So when the blinking light on her computer started to beep and move, it didn't take her more than a fraction of a second to make a bad call.
She took her laptop and the keys to Weevil's car and set out.
- - - - - - - - - -
Piz dug into his burger with gusto, trying to seem cool. He knew, of course, that it was almost impossible for him to appear cool. The best he could do was aloof, and there was no way of being aloof at the moment.
"So... I know you didn't come here for the nachos," Piz said, since he was already on the receiving end of Logan's murderous stare.
"Or the chili," Logan added. "I'm gonna cut the crap and go straight to the point."
"Thank Darwin," Piz muttered, grabbing a fry. "Shoot."
"What have you found out?" Logan asked.
"If Veronica hasn't told you, there's probably a reason for it," Piz attempted.
"Yeah, that she hates me."
"Have you considered the possibility that it isn't about you?"
"Considered and discarded it," Logan said.
Piz gulped down some soda, taking a second before answering. "I can't tell you what she's found out, but I can tell you that there are a couple of leads that Veronica and her father are looking into."
"And what, you're the sidekick now?" Logan asked.
Piz shrugged. "Don't you have the nagging sensation that you're asking the wrong questions?"
"What would be the right question to ask, oh, Jedi Master?" Logan quipped. Sarcasm dripped from his voice.
"Look, Logan," Piz started, biting back his temper. "The only reason I tolerate you is that you mean something to Veronica. You have a history with her, and I can't win over that. But I'm not backing off either. And maybe I do sound like a Star-Wars-geek, but you know as well as I what the real question you want to ask is."
Logan looked away. "How is she?" he asked. "How is she really?"
Piz smiled into his drink. "She's good," he said, not looking up. "She's stubborn and beautiful and... she's good."
"The first two are gonna get her killed."
"I don't think you can take her away from danger. You just have to hope she won't be as reckless as she tends to be." Piz gave Logan a sympathetic look. "It's a long shot, though."
"Word for the wise: Don't hire a bodyguard to protect her," Logan offered, biting into his burger.
"Duly noted."
They sat in silence for a couple of minutes. Then, out of nowhere, Logan asked, "You got a cellphone?"
Piz showed Logan the cellphone he was carrying. "I'm using Mac's phone. Mine... broke."
"She has my number in there. And I have hers. So if there's ever any need to..." Logan trailed off, shrugging.
"Ok."
"Ok."
Logan stood up and took his tray. Piz didn't have any good parting words. "How's the... stab wound?" he asked.
Logan shrugged. "Getting there. How're the bruises?"
Piz shrugged. "Gone."
By way of a peace offering, neither chose to say anything else.
- - - - - - - - -
Veronica muttered to herself in the car. The tracking signal kept had been strong just moments ago, but she couldn't quite spot the car in the large parking lot of the mall, and the signal was getting weaker, but it wasn't moving.
Dammit.
Then she spotted it.
The car wash.
It was functioning, which meant there was a car inside. The interference of the machines would make the signal weaker and, if the car was being detailed after, someone would pick up on the tail. It was the only thing she could think of.
There were no waiting cars in line. She swore under her breath, and drove towards the car wash.
In the back of her head, she knew this was a bad idea.
But she pushed the thought aside and rolled up her windows.
She drove onto the platform the pushed the car forward and set the shift on neutral.
The sound of the warm water being sprayed against her windows dulled the sound of her cellphone, and she caught it ringing almost at the last ring. It was Piz calling from Mac's phone.
"Hey," she said, yelling over the squeaking sound of the wipers. "Everything ok?"
"Hey, so I'm done here and... What's that noise?" Piz asked from the other end. "Where are you?"
"Carwash down by the Plaza parking lot. I'm tailing Casablancas Sr., and our tracking device just got hosed down," Veronica said, wincing. She knew he was just calling to check on things, but she also knew he'd be worried.
"You're alone?" Piz asked, about to go into a reprimand. She could feel the disappointment in his voice, but he didn't sound surprised.
"Look, relax, I'm just gonna follow him to the-"
Just then she felt the door of the car open, jets of warm water streaming inside. She screamed, dropping the phone. She scrambled for it, knowing it would be the only way to get traced. A large hand grabbed her by the hair, dragging her out of the car.
- - - - - - - - - - -
A scream. Then a thud.
And Piz just knew.
He dialed Keith Mars' number but it went straight to voicemail.
No time.
Dammit.
He ran to his car and peeled out of the parking lot with little care for passersby. He opened Mac's flip phone with his left hand and searched for a number. "Come on, come on. Lauren, Leah..."
No Logan. There was, however, a Loudmouthed Asshole. And that was worth a shot.
"Hello, you've reached Logan, and here's today's inspirational message: It has long been an axiom of mine that the little things are infinitely the most important. Sir Arthur Conan Doyle."
"Loudmouthed asshole alright," Piz muttered.
He hung up and redialed. On the second ring, Logan finally picked up. "Miss me already?" he asked, sarcastically.
"They got her," Piz said. "Plaza Car Wash."
On the other side of the line, Logan found only one word. "Fuck."
TBC...
Author's note 2: Was that a little rushed? I'm feeling a little insecure about this chapter, it's one of my favorites, but still... Anyway, feedback is always appreciated.