Author's Note: Last chapter to what might be my favorite Cherri fic to write.
Mm... delightful. Honestly, it was never something she actively missed. In fact, it generally was one of her least favorite aspects to being close to someone, having them invading your personal space while you were trying to sleep. But it would be an outright lie to say she hadn't woken in a blissfully contented state, warm but not too warm, wrapped up in a body that was heavy with sleep, scented with Menthol and fragrant with that natural woodsy scent, arms hugging her middle, holding her tight, hands that were a little larger and a little rougher than one would expect splayed across her naked belly beneath her tank top.
She was a little bit surprised they'd stayed touching all night, more than touching, cuddling. But really, why should she have been surprised that Chris LaSalle was a clinger? He possessed just the personality type for it. Not to mention the last experience she had sleeping with the man in the cold, hard back of the SUV.
Moving, and subsequently ending the embrace, was the last thing Merri wanted to do, but she was beginning to feel... There was a heat slowly creeping through her body, its source a pulling sensation deep and low in her belly. It was a shame her body was having a reaction she would not be able to entertain, for she genuinely was loving lying in Chris LaSalle's arms, being tenderly spooned. She tried not to think about the flesh that was pressed up against her back, the fingers flexing slowly against her belly and... whoa, how had she not noticed his other hand had managed to weasel its way between her thighs, was lying sandwiched a few inches above her knees but moving unerringly, almost undetectably northward. Well, that explained the heat blooming in her belly and face.
She sighed, and carefully rolled over, causing her bedfellow to stir, removing his hands as she shifted to face him. He blinked, his dark blue eyes heavily lidded with sleep. He yawned, his mouth going wide as a cat's as he sucked in a deep breath of air and then groaned as the inhalation placed stress on bruised ribs.
"Not feeling any better?" Merri asked, resisting the urge to touch him. Now that they were both awake and it was a new day, she wasn't sure exactly where they stood with one another.
"Much better for wakin' up to your pretty face."
Normally, she would give him shit for the corny line, but she was just too damned pleased that his flirtatious charm had returned.
"I'll be fine, Merri," he said, his intense blue eyes now wide awake and focused on her. "But are we gonna be? I'm honestly a mite confused findin' ya in bed with me, what with ya bein' upset by the lack of boundaries between us 'n' all."
She couldn't blame him. It was rather hypocritical to lecture the man for his failure to respect her personal space only to climb under the covers with him, even if it was just for some platonic cuddling.
"I was wrong," she said. "Oh, don't look so surprised. I'm not so uptight that I can't admit when I've made a mistake."
He chuckled quietly. "No, ya ain't. An' I know now that I was pushin' ya too hard."
"I'm not like you, Chris," she said. "I keep my emotions reeled in tight. I haven't let anyone in for a long time, not friends... not..."
He raised an eyebrow at her unfinished thought, the corner of his mouth twitching. Without comment, he placed a hand on her hip. She wasn't sure where this was going, only knew that they could never go back to the way they'd been. She either had to push him away, alienate her partner, which would eventually lead to her transferring, running away again, or she had to accept who he was, let him be her friend, a close friend, a true friend. She'd forgotten what it was like to have people in your life that you knew so well, knew all of their eccentricities, hopes and fears, that some random comment from a stranger, an advertisement on a poster, a whiff of a certain scent brought a dozen memories of them to your mind. They stayed with you always, even when you were apart. Such intimacies were a treasure, were essential to the mental health of human beings. And why should she deny herself them any longer, just because she'd lost the person in the world who was so close to her that she'd practically been an extension of her soul? Yes, she could be hurt once more. But that was a risk of living. And having had her sister, growing up together, sharing so much, it was better than never having her at all. And pushing away people meant she would never have anything close to that bond, that joy, again.
She reached out and cupped her partner's face. Personality-wise, he was like Emily in so many ways. Good-hearted, effusively affectionate, always possessing an unwavering cheerful joy, even on bad days.
"I like you, Christopher LaSalle." She felt the muscles in his cheek twitch beneath her fingers as that charming grin of his began to emerge and grow in its exponential way.
"I like ya, too, Meredith Brody," he said, fighting the smile that had already begun to curl his lips. She schooled her own happy grin, hoping she was a bit better at obfuscation than her partner, considering her specialty in interrogation. They stared at one another, pretending the confessions hadn't made them extraordinarily happy, to the point of giddiness.
"Would it be considered an unwelcome invasion of personal boundaries if I tried ta kiss ya?" he asked, still staring intently into her eyes. Now she really had to fight the pleased smile threatening to break out on her face. She took a moment, pretended to consider the question, even though the playful glint in those dark blue eyes informed her that he wasn't being fooled for an instant.
"Yes, it would," she said, still not even remotely convincing him that she was serious, especially since she'd been slowly gravitating towards him, closing the foot of space between their noses. "But I'll allow it."
He leaned in, pressed his lips against hers in a delicate first touch. It was tentative, testing, seeking. That fabled spark struck, its current flowing through her, making her nerves hum. It was bullshit, she knew, the idea that a 'spark' existed between certain people. But physical attraction, and emotional for that matter, did not in fact occur between everyone. It was a rare occurrence, and the anticipation of a first kiss with someone you already adored and were attracted to... it was electric. It was immediate and she only had a fraction of a second to wonder whether he'd felt it too, before his lips were sliding against hers and then parting, his tongue dancing over her top lip as she opened her own mouth to return the exploration.
Soon his hand migrated from her hip to her buttocks, and she was digging her fingers into the back of his neck, their bodies coming together like polarized magnets. It was amazing, and oh, how her body wanted her to continue. But it was too fast. She'd caused an incident at work, strained her relationship with her coworkers, hurt her friend's feelings, all because she couldn't cope with what had felt like an intense level of intimacy with the man currently kissing her like she was the only woman in the world -no, like she were the only important thing in the entire universe.
Also, he wasn't quite in the full bloom of health to be taking on such physical exertions, the thought of which made the tug in her belly more desperately insistent, and which led to her considering fun ways in which to satisfy her stupid carnal need and pleasure him without his having to work too hard.
No.
She couldn't. They couldn't. She liked him too damn much, so she placed her hands on his chest and gently pulled away, stealing a last few kisses before their embrace finally broke.
"I'm sorry," she said, watching him lick his lips contemplatively before he nodded soberly and looked away from her, and she realized what her apology sounded like. "That was really nice, Chris, but I can't go any further right now."
His eyes snapped back to her face, and he gave her his intense, scrutinizing gaze.
"Ya mean..." His hopeful face and puppy dog eyes were so goddamn, irresistibly adorable. She patted his cheek, ran her thumb over his kiss-swollen lips. She'd done that. It gave her a ridiculous sense of pride.
"I. Like. Kissing. You." She punctuated every word with a peck to his lips. When she pulled away, he grinned stupidly at her.
"I'm not sure where this is going," she said. "But I'm not going to over-think it. Because I like you. And I like spending time with you. But we're going to have to take it slow."
"So, no more kissin'?" He looked severely disappointed yet resolved. Because, despite her becoming annoyed by his invasion of her personal life, he was a gentleman. He simply hadn't known he was being invasive and offensive, and once she made it clear, he'd completely stopped the behavior. Only, she'd realized that hadn't been what she wanted.
"Kissing is fine."
He grinned.
"How 'bout cuddlin'?"
She grinned back at him.
"Cuddling is fine."
Now that she was no longer in denial, she admitted to herself that she absolutely loved the cuddling.
"How 'bout..." He grabbed her and pushed her onto her back, hovering over her, burying his face in her neck and nuzzling her violently as his hands rucked up her tank top and found her naked sides. "...ticklin'?"
God help her, she was extremely ticklish. She laughed and writhed beneath him, breathless and at his mercy because she was afraid throwing him off from her would aggravate his injuries. But if he didn't stop...
"No tickling!" she choked out between gasps of laughter. "No more!"
He showed no sign of letting up, so she (as gently as she could) flipped him onto his back on the mattress beside her. He inhaled sharply and groaned.
"Chris, are you okay?" She leaned over him, which was a mistake, albeit it ultimately a pleasant one, for he had only been playing possum and pulled her down into a kiss as electric as the first.
Merri enjoyed the rest of her morning in bed cuddling, kissing and playing with her partner, her friend, reveling in how light her heart felt, how letting someone in had also freed her, how wonderful such shared intimacy was.
END
A/N: Yay! I kept it PG… Well, PG-13, at least? Hm… How to play with these two next? Or I suppose I could take a break and leave them be… (Although I'm resisting the urge to write a Cherri version of a 1x18? episode tag. With all the LaSalle teasing Brody goodness, and her personal life angst… yum.)