Title: Passion

Author: Jeanine (jeanine@iol.ie)

Rating: PG

Pairing: Sara/Warrick

Feedback: Makes my day

Disclaimer: If it was in the show, it's not mine.

Archive: At my site Checkmate () , Fanfiction.net; anywhere else, please ask.

Notes: For the LiveJournal CSReports Virtual Rewind challenge, to the "Buffy titles" challenge. And I couldn't just write one, so I ended up doing a minor series.

***

Sara is surprised when the rain comes out of nowhere, is even more surprised when Warrick's reaction is to make a run for the nearby trees. Which is nothing to her surprise when Warrick comes over all chivalrous, takes off his jacket and drapes it around her shoulders.

The next thing she knows, his lips are on hers and he's kissing her, gently at first, almost chastely, and she wants to pull away, wants to ask him what the hell he thinks he's doing.

Instead, she surprises herself, and probably him, by kissing him back hungrily, opening her mouth to his as she winds her arms around his neck, forgetting about the storm around them, losing herself in a storm of passion instead.

Her skin is cold, but his hands are warm as they work their way under her top, and, as her hands discover, his body is just as warm. But it's the contrast of the smooth warmth of his body at her front and the roughness of the tree bark at her back as he pushes her against it that makes her gasp into his mouth, not an expression of pain but rather pleasure at the contradictory sensations.

He's not to know that though, and he pulls away from her lips, leaving his body flush against hers, staring at her with eyes that are darker than she's ever seen them. He draws in a deep, shuddering breath, shaking hands reaching up to frame her face as he rests his forehead against hers. "Sara, I'm sorry…" he whispers, and she cuts him off with a shake of her head, the words coming automatically to her lips.

"I'm not," she tells him, and he looks surprised for the instant she looks at his face before she draws him closer, kissing him again.

Eventually, reluctantly, they tear away from one another, noting with some embarrassment that the storm has passed, that the sky is once more blue. They're on overtime as it is, so she doesn't feel the slightest bit guilty about checking their evidence at the lab and heading straight for home, and judging by the fact that he's at her apartment door scant minutes after she arrives, nor does he.

Further evidence to mutual lack of guilt is the way that she pounces on him the moment he's over the threshold, hardly pausing to close the door. He chuckles low in his throat, the sound unbelievably sexy to her, and she's already working at the buttons of his shirt. She's a smart girl, but between his lips and his hands, it's hard to concentrate on the work at hand, gets harder when he spins her so that she's pressed against the wall, his hands, more dextrous than hers, already sliding between their bodies.

Sara's head falls back against the wall and she realises they're not going to make it to the bedroom.

Right after that, she realises she doesn't care.

And right after that, she stops thinking altogether.