A Different Kind of Merriwick Gift
Guys, I don't even know…this just sort of happened? I had three separate ideas running around in my brain and they all sort of got together and then…this?
Cassie and Abigail are both very gifted at picking up on other people's feelings/intentions etc so it seemed obvious to me that they'd both pick up on Sam's obvious (sexual) desire for Cassie – and that their unrequited sexual feelings would be driving Abigail up. the. wall. So Abigail, being Abigail, would feel obliged to do something about it. I don't think 'giving Cassie a vibrator' would occur to Hallmark Channel Abigail, but for the Abigail that lives rent free in my head, this seemed to be in character. But I'm interested in your opinions on this, just go gentle, yeah? Because this fic is kind of out of my comfort zone.
I must warn you though – although this fic is rated M for sexual content, Cassie and Sam do not have sex (with each other) in this fic. So please don't be mad at me!
A massive thank you must go to xfphile who beta'd the shit out of this for me. It probably wouldn't have ever seen the light of day without her encouragement.
She's the real MVP.
...
Abigail Pershing was only just learning the true meaning of the phrase 'no good deed goes unpunished'. And while she might not be being punished as such, she certainly felt that she was being unfairly repaid for trying to be helpful.
At Grey House, she shut her bedroom door firmly, only just shy of slamming it. It seemed that sometimes stirring the pot, especially when its contents were this hot, meant that you got burned.
She was so happy that Cassie and Sam were together, finally, but it appeared that her assistance was still required.
And Abigail was only too happy to help.
Especially if it meant she might actually help herself as a result.
They were still so tentative, so restrained, that it was going to drive Abigail to distraction. Was her cousin really not aware that Abigail picked up on every single frisson of emotion between Cassie and Sam, and that their first bolt of attraction, of connection, had singed her all the way in New York?
She unwound the scarf from her neck, throwing it onto the bed with barely concealed contempt. It wasn't the garment that was preventing her from catching a breath, though.
It was them.
Rationally, Abigail understood why Cassie wanted to take things slowly with Sam. She couldn't imagine even thinking about trying to start dating again if you'd had, and lost, the kind of marriage that Cassie and Jake had shared, but Abigail wouldn't have pushed so hard if she hadn't been certain they were meant for each other.
It didn't help that Sam's physical desire was so strong that, had he been in possession of Merriwick magic of his own, the whole street would have gone up in flames by now. It was potent enough that the very air seemed to crackle with it whenever he visited Grey House, though Abigail was the only one who noticed it. She was grateful that Grace was still shy of her seventeenth birthday and not yet in possession of the full complement of her gifts.
Already anticipating another night of tossing and turning under sweat-tangled sheets, Abigail knelt down to retrieve an unopened box from under her bed. She drummed her plum-toned fingernails against the cardboard in thoughtful consideration, a strand of dark auburn hair falling across her eyes as she pondered.
She knew that something had to give, because if it didn't she might just lose the final grip on her sanity, and simply lock her cousin and the doctor in a room together.
Oh, and now wasn't that a delicious idea…
And wouldn't it serve them both right?
The following morning, Cassie was tidying up in her bedroom, smoothing out the clean sheets she had just put on the bed, when she heard a tap on the door.
"Come in, Abigail," she greeted with a weary smile. Her cousin was not particularly a morning person, so a visit this early in the day could only spell trouble.
Her smile faded to a curious frown when the younger woman stepped into the room, and Cassie realised she looked a little…sheepish? Not a word she had ever previously had cause to use where her cousin was involved.
She also sensed reluctance about her, and was aware that Abigail held a box behind her back, but she couldn't hone in on what it was so she couldn't determine if it had anything to do with the other woman's odd change in demeanour.
Okay, it was Abigail, so of course it did.
But trying to sense what it was only filled her with a mix of dread and anticipation.
She just wished she could put her finger on why.
Abigail knew that she had to say something, but Cassie's inquisitive look had her rooted to the spot.
"I…um," she began as the silence became too awkward for her not to fill. She trailed off, clearing her throat.
God, why was she so nervous? Okay, so she did know the answer to that – because, although she enjoyed pushing boundaries to their limits, she also knew where the line was and was all too aware that this time she could be stepping right over it.
But she was here now, wasn't she? And pot-stirring was what she did best.
So, with a deep breath, she crossed right over that line.
"So, I placed an order online and they sent me two by mistake. I tried to return it, but they just said 'their mistake!' and I could keep it," she rushed out, only to stop again when she realised she was babbling. "I, uh, thought you might want the other one?"
There was no going back to re-draw the line now. She would just have to wait and see how Cassie reacted.
Cassie folded her arms across her chest, wondering why she felt like this was just a smoke screen for something else. Abigail behaved strangely on a fairly regular basis – it was part of the Merriwick charm after all – but Cassie had never seen her quite like this before.
Abigail produced the box from behind her back and held it out to Cassie as if it contained an unexploded hand grenade, which…wasn't that far off as analogies went.
Now that the situation was quite literally out of her hands, Abigail seemed to regain a little of her usual mystique…and composure.
Before Cassie could quiz her, her cousin disappeared in a whirlwind of perfume and leather, with a belated, muffled cry of, "Enjoy!".
Bemused, confused, and yes, a little intrigued, Cassie opened the box.
And stared.
She only just stopped her jaw from dropping open.
"Oh, Abigail," she murmured, veering between amusement and embarrassment as a slight flush came to her cheeks. "What have you done now?"
Every now and then, apropos of nothing, Sam remembered his promise to himself that he would never get seriously romantically involved with a woman again. And then he laughed. There had been his initial flirtation with Stephanie when he had first arrived in Middleton, but would he have pursued her if she hadn't been quite so persistent? He knew that the answer was no. Lovely though she was, still no.
A fair few of his female patients had made it abundantly clear that they wouldn't object to a more intimate kind of physical examination than he offered during working hours, but he'd never taken any of them up on it. He was flattered, and okay maybe sometimes a little tempted, because he was a human male at the end of the day, but he had never given any real consideration to sacrificing his bachelor status.
Until Cassie.
Because as much as he had tried to convince himself (and her) otherwise, there was no way they could be 'just friends'.
He had enough ego to admit that the kiss he'd laid on her at the lake house might well have been the best, most satisfying one he had ever initiated. And it had also given him the very rare accolade of surprising Ms Nightingale – not something that seemed to happen more than once a decade. He just wished he had the opportunity to do it more often, both kissing her and surprising her, but they seemed destined to never catch a break.
It wasn't that Cassie was particularly shy regarding their public displays of affection – they'd put on quite a show for Martha in the Bell, Book, and Candle while Tara continued working in the background, but those stolen kisses and precious hand-squeezes only added fuel to the fire of Sam's desires.
Especially when they lived in the kind of town where everyone knew everything, and they were always everywhere, all the damn time.
It was then that he realised, bar of soap still clutched in his hand, that he'd been going over his patient list for the day when, as so often happened, he'd been distracted by her. Again. He hadn't had a woman live rent free in his head for a very long time, and found to his surprise, that he wasn't mad about it.
It might kill him, but he wasn't mad about it.
Abandoning the attempt at following any other train of thought, Sam continued to think about Cassie as he finished getting ready for work. She was so intuitive, he thought, selecting a shiny red apple from the fruit bowl (something he'd been eating more of since she had become part of his life), but he knew she was holding back from him, shying away from taking things further.
He understood that, he really did. And he'd be patient, he'd wait as long as she wanted, but sometimes it was hard.
He chuckled out loud at his own pun, juggling the apple, his car keys, and his phone without dropping any of them, hoping that was a good indication of how his day might go.
And then his thoughts were with her, again.
How he felt about her scared him. It wasn't just physical desire, it was something else, something more…something that he wasn't sure he was ready to explore yet. It was out of character for him to just let something be rather than planning and strategising so he could see what the final picture would look like.
But in the last year and a half, he had ended a toxic marriage completely, uprooted his life (and his son's, Nick would have only been too happy to point out), and somehow managed to build a relationship with his son that was perhaps the best it had ever been, so he knew how to be patient, and tenacious.
He also knew when something was worth waiting for
And if anyone was worth waiting for, it was Cassie Nightingale.
Several degrees away from 'unflapped', Cassie had washed her 'gift' from Abigail in the sink in her ensuite bathroom, and then hidden it in the middle drawer of her nightstand.
Out of sight, out of mind.
Except it wasn't.
Cassie was still baffled that Abigail had thought this was appropriate and, more to the point, why she had thought it was appropriate.
She couldn't help but wonder what Jake would say, and it made her smile. By a lot of people's standards their romantic life had been vanilla, but they had been so happy. Cassie had had no complaints at all in that regard.
And wasn't it nice to think of Jake now with a fond smile, rather than the crushing weight of grief?
She also knew that, despite many similarities in their characters, Sam and Jake were very different men. Sometimes she was completely overwhelmed by the raw desire that Sam felt for her, but fought to rein in. It was flattering, but also a little terrifying…especially because, in some ways, it aroused her in a way she'd never felt before.
Apparently that wasn't a secret either, given Abigail's rather thoughtful (but yes, still inappropriate) gift.
Cassie no more believed that her cousin had accidentally been sent two products than she believed in the health benefits of caffeine.
Still, its presence in her drawer lingered in the back of her mind all day.
They had a date that evening – just a simple dinner at The Bistro and a hand-in-hand walk along Main Street, with a pit stop for ice cream, obviously. She loved spending time with him – she always had. Even before there had been anything romantic between them, she had always enjoyed just being with him, and bouncing ideas, quotes, and banter back and forth had delighted her.
They lingered outside Grey House, neither of them wanting the evening to end as they drew out their goodbyes.
If Cassie didn't live in a B&B, with her teenage daughter, her father-in-law, and her nosy but well-intentioned cousin, would she have invited Sam inside? She wasn't sure, and she supposed she'd never know.
His goodnight kiss was sensational, though. Cassie's fingers dug into his coat, trying to find some purchase to steady her feet; feet she was in some considerable danger of being swept off.
The hungry look in his eyes told Cassie that he wanted more, even before her Merriwick senses had the chance to kick in. But as he stroked her hair behind her ear, his thumb gentle on her cheek, his passion faded into a tenderness that was just as devastating.
"Goodnight, Cassie," he breathed into her ear, sending a shiver up the entire length of her spine until she tingled with it.
"Goodnight, Sam," she whispered back, and, although she didn't turn, she knew he stood watching her until she had closed and locked the front door.
She waited until she felt him return to his own house before she let out the breath she had been holding.
She couldn't sleep. Every time she was close to floating into that abyss, she came awake again. Despite the cool evening, Grey House seemed suffocatingly warm and Cassie was forced to throw back the covers. She was lying on top of the sheet, but still felt lightheaded and sweaty in her thin nightgown.
She knew Sam was also awake.
And that he was thinking about her.
When sleep still refused to claim her – and Sam refused to leave her mind – her thoughts strayed to the contents of her middle drawer.
Cursing her cousin, Cassie reached out and pulled the drawer open, scrabbling through her rarely-worn undergarments for it. Her hands were so shaky, her palms so slick, that the toy nearly slipped from her grip.
Not for the first, or even the tenth, time that day, Cassie was forced to wonder why her cousin had thought it acceptable to give her a vibrator.
Lying back against the pillows, Cassie tried to relax, but her heart was beating a fierce drumbeat in her chest, and it only got worse every time she spied the toy out of the corner of her eye.
Was she going to…could she?
Sighing into the silence, Cassie pulled her nightgown up to her waist and parted her thighs.
She closed her eyes, unable to stop picturing Sam's face so close to hers, his breath on the side of her neck, and the barely restrained fire in his eyes. She shuddered, feeling an answering wave of desire clench low in her belly.
Her skin was already damp and flushed with heat and arousal when she brushed her fingers between her legs. Taking a breath, both to steady herself and for courage, Cassie reached for the toy and positioned it at the apex of her thighs.
While she had been cleaning it earlier, she might have maybe, possibly, read the instructional manual as well, and it didn't exactly seem like rocket science.
She pressed the toy against her clit and used her thumbnail to flick the dial on at the lowest setting.
The shock of the vibrations sent her arching off the bed, her heart hammering even harder and faster than before, as the unexpected, but not unwelcome, pleasure rippled through her.
She flipped it off again, reaching up with a shaking hand to push sweaty hair out of her eyes.
She didn't know if she wanted to go and tell Abigail that she loved her, or if she wanted to go and murder her.
She'd known Derek a very long time; he'd never suspect a thing.
But now that she'd had a moment to just breathe, Cassie really wanted to try it again.
In the name of scientific enquiry, of course.
Prepared this time, Cassie flicked the dial again and let out a purr of approval as the vibrations stimulated her sensitised flesh. Because this was an experiment of sorts, she conscientiously flipped her way through the various settings – and nearly catapulted right over the edge when she reached the highest one.
Braver now, her initial embarrassment and shame tucked away, Cassie rose to her knees and pulled her nightgown over her head.
Slowly, cautiously, Cassie lowered herself onto the toy, letting her muscles adjust to the intrusion and muffling a cry at how good it felt.
Feeling – not thinking, or sensing – Cassie's left hand reached for her breasts, cupping each in turn and tugging on the hardened peaks of her nipples. Impossibly aroused, she reached for the switch and flipped the vibrator back on, using her hand to steady it.
Her hips began to move instinctively, chasing and seeking the friction of the toy sliding in and out of her, while the vibrations tickled her clit.
Movement was erratic now, her vision blurring as her hips stuttered, desperately increasing the vibrations as she rocketed towards her orgasm.
It was like all of the pent up feelings she had been holding for Sam since…well, possibly since he had arrived in Middleton, were finally being released.
With a cry that she muffled with her fist, teeth digging into her knuckles, Cassie let the pleasure claim her.
Sam was grateful that his shift at Hillcrest was an early one, because it meant there were fewer hours to lie here, awake, staring at the ceiling and thinking about Cassie.
He wondered if she was having trouble sleeping too, and if so, was it because of him? He wasn't sure if he could picture his perfect, unflappable, cool-as-a-cucumber, Cassie Nightingale tossing and turning in her bed, thinking of him.
Maybe his brain couldn't quite conjure up that mental image, but other parts of his anatomy had taken an interest.
Groaning, and grateful that Nick would be unconscious for hours yet, Sam crawled out of bed for a cold shower.
It did not help.
Not in the slightest.
Now that his (traitorous) mind had planted the idea of Cassie in her bed, unable to sleep because of him, he couldn't focus on anything else. He was surprised that the cold water didn't turn to steam as it streamed over his body.
With a growled curse, that might or might not have contained her name, Sam took his cock firmly in his hand as the water sluiced down around him.
He couldn't stop thinking about their goodnight kiss and how full of potential it had been. He felt like he could still smell her perfume in the air around him, taste her lipstick on his mouth. She had kissed him back so desperately, her fingers flexing against the material of his jacket…and there had been the promise of more.
So much more.
He shattered, releasing in a violent spurt against the side of the shower and sliding to a sitting position on the floor of the cubicle.
Oh. Wow.
If this was what just thinking about her did to him, then the real thing may very well burn Middleton to the ground.
He couldn't wait.
In her bedroom at Grey House, Abigail rolled over in her bed and buried her face in the pillow. She was very much afraid she was getting a dose of her own medicine.
Worse, her own magic.
It seemed like another good deed of hers was not going unpunished.
Honestly, if the two of them didn't get together and finally burn off all of the pent up desire they clearly had for each other, she was convinced it would kill her.
But, on the off chance it didn't, she was going to seriously consider acquiring some shares in the Energizer Bunny.