Title: Wait To Stop
Author: rekkidbraka
Rating: T
Pairings: EJ Barrett/Mike Renko
Category: Romance
Disclaimer: No infringement intended.
Spoilers: None
Summary: A random night out with E.J. and Mike.

"We haven't been out in a while," E.J. said to Mike, peering at him from her end of the sofa, which was opposite his. "We should go out tonight."

"We've been out," Mike muttered, frowning as he returned E.J.'s look. "We go out. We were out today."

"Grocery shopping doesn't count as 'out,'" E.J. countered.

"It doesn't count as 'in,' either," Mike pointed out.

"Because it doesn't COUNT," E.J. shot back. "We're going out tonight, Renko. You and me. We're going someplace nice, too. Not back to El Roacho Loco or whatever that place was."

"You liked the tequila, Barrett," Mike said. "Even if it didn't like you back the next day."

"You're going to dress up," E.J. went on, ignoring Mike. "I want you in a suit."

"And I want you in a bathtub of butterscotch pudding wearing nothing but stilettos," Mike replied matter-of-factly. "We all have dreams."

E.J. glared at Mike, narrowing her eyes.

"If you act like a jackass tonight, you'd better learn to live without two key parts of your anatomy, Renko."

Mike looked down at his lap, then glanced back up at E.J.

"You mean you're letting me have custody of them again just for this special occasion, Barrett?" Mike teased, smirking. "Hell, let's break out the Champale."

For once, it was Mike who was holding up the plans. E.J., usually the one who needed "just one more minute" to fix her hair or adjust this or redo that, sat cooling her heels on the sofa while Mike preened in front of the bathroom mirror.

"GET DRESSED!" E.J. yelled into the bedroom. She was growing impatient and Mike had apparently made reservations at a restaurant that was notoriously difficult to get into.

"Usually, you're ordering me to do just the opposite," Mike said, emerging from the bedroom.

E.J. turned to take a look at him and, upon seeing him, found that she couldn't speak.

He looked fabulous.

First of all, Mike hadn't shaved and so his usual five o'clock shadow and stubble was that much more pronounced, giving him a dangerous, edgy appearance. Not much turned E.J. on more than the feel of Mike's prickly stubble against her fingertips — or any other areas of her skin. The sensation drove her crazy.

He wore a light grey suit accented by a well-fitting black dress shirt. No tie. Mike would wear a tie if forced to but he hated them. Tonight he'd left his shirt unbuttoned just enough to give E.J. a peek at his chest hair. She liked this too. Lots. Although not overly muscular, Mike had a nice, lean, lanky build that E.J. appreciated. He was just a normal guy with a normal guy's body. Something else she liked.

And, of course, then there was the matter of Mike's cologne.

Unlike Tony, Mike actually knew how to wear the stuff to his advantage. Less was more. Mike's scent of choice — which managed to remain a mystery despite E.J.'s many attempts to get Mike to name his brand — was something classic and clean. Nothing perfume-like or overly musky. E.J. liked the fact that Mike's cologne didn't have to cover for anything; it wasn't trying too hard to say "Check me out" to a woman. As nice a guy as Tony was, his cologne (which she'd hated) was always overcompensating for something. Mike's cologne was just a little something extra as part of the Date Night deal. It didn't want or need to be noticed. And so E.J. let herself relish the soft scent of Mike whenever she got the chance.

"This okay?" Mike asked, peering down at his suit with a frown. He wondered if he should've gone for something more formal. Not a good sign when E.J. had nothing to say. Because she always had something to say.

"Okay? You look incredible," E.J. finally said in a tone that made Mike blush. Seeing how sexy Mike was in his suit, E.J. momentarily reconsidered the idea of Date Night. Maybe they should stay in.

Mike grinned shyly. He resisted the urge to say something sarcastic as a way of hiding how vulnerable he felt with E.J. looking him over from head to toe. He knew she already wanted him. The feeling was mutual.

"We should, uh, you know..." Mike stammered, nodding towards the door. His palms turned clammy just before he started to help E.J. up from the sofa and he quickly wiped them on his pants. He hadn't been this nervous around her the first time they'd met. Or the first time they'd kissed. Or made love. Or ever before, really. Why tonight?

When Mike pulled E.J. from the couch, she moved into his arms and kissed him tenderly.

"Are you afraid of me?" she whispered teasingly.

"Sometimes," Mike whispered back.

"Good," E.J. whispered, smiling, before kissing Mike one last time.

Once seated at their candlelit table, Mike took E.J.'s hands in his and fixed his green gaze on her.

"This count as 'out' enough for you?" Mike asked, a sly grin playing at the corners of his mouth. He hoped E.J. was impressed with his choice of restaurants this time around.

"Absolutely," E.J. said, bringing one of Mike's hands up to her lips. She kissed the skin tenderly before bringing Mike's hand up to her cheek, never taking her eyes off him. He could be so incredibly romantic sometimes, so amazingly disarming. Another thing about the guy that she loved.

Mike blushed at E.J.'s touch. He'd never been with someone who, he knew, adored him for who he was and yet managed to get him to try things that no other woman had. Going out to some trendy, hard-to-get-into eatery wasn't something he'd do on his own. But being with E.J. made Mike want to give these sort of things a shot, even if he complained about them at the outset. No matter how the night ended, he knew things would never be dull in her company.

"We oughta do this more often," Mike told E.J. The statement surprised her.

"Seriously?" she asked. "I mean, I'm all for it but you acted like this was the last thing on earth you wanted to do tonight, you know? Dress up and go out."

"I'm not hating it," Mike said.

E.J. smiled at him. Whenever she thought she might have Mike figured out, he threw her a curveball and she was back to square one of trying to decode the guy. Could he get any sexier?

"What?" Mike asked thickly, feeling E.J.'s shoulders fall as she let out a loud sigh. Holding her like this, his arms wrapped around her slim waist as they stared out at the Pacific together, Mike felt utterly content and calm. Dinner had been romantic but the drive out from the city to this spot on the beach had left him feeling dizzy with desire for her.

"It's amazing," E.J. told him. "The view here. But I wish we were home. I just... I want you to hold me. All night, you know?"

"I know," Mike said in a low, husky tone. Then he added, "But just... hold you?"

E.J. let out a little laugh. For a second, Mike had sounded worried.

"Before, after and during," she said suggestively, just before she turned back towards Mike, who took her hand and led her to the car.

It occurred to Mike, as he felt E.J.'s hands working furiously at the buttons of his shirt, then sliding down to his belt buckle before moving to hastily unzip his pants, that he'd spent about an hour picking out the suit that was now being practically ripped from his body in minutes.

But he didn't care. E.J. had spent as much, if not more, time getting ready and he'd had her dress off in one smooth zip.

And by the time he and E.J. fell onto the bed together, finally naked after so much work, Mike had lost all track of time.

"That suit," E.J. began drowsily as she lay sprawled half atop Mike, "looks so good on you. And off you, too."

Mike, who was already fighting sleep, moaned "Mmmmhhh..." in agreement. He always wanted to talk to E.J. after they'd made love but she wore him out. Literally.

"You sleepy, babe?" E.J. asked, yawning.

"Mmmmhhh..." Mike moaned softly.

"Butterscotch pudding, hmmm?" E.J. asked, smirking, her eyelids feeling heavy.

"Mmmmhhh..." Mike moaned again, managing a little grin at the thought.

"Mmmmhhh..." E.J. agreed, just before dropping off for the night.