Title: Something Found
Author: ScullyAsTrinity
Rating: R, for sexxxxxual situations.
Category: CJ/Danny
Notes: This part is for Amanda too because she wanted a little bit of normalcy, and a little bit of sex.
[Something Found]
Just as CJ was about to crawl into her tub for a bath, there was a loud knock at the door. She was disinclined to answer it, but did so anyway, just in case it was Josh, drunk out of his mind because he found out about the bill and drank himself into a stupor. Reaching across the back of the bathroom door, she grabbed her purple silk robe and flung it on herself.
Making her way to the front door, she was confronted with the image of a distorted Danny, through her peephole. His head hung low, and his clothes held the tell tale wetness that came from walking in a torrential downpour.
Her heart twinged for a moment, and she pressed her face against the cool wood of the door. Sighed, she sighed and looked at him again, and caught him bringing his hand up again to rap on her door.
"What is it Danny?" She murmured, not really expecting him to hear her, but he did.
"I just, can I come in? Just for a minute?" He said, his head finally lifting to reveal the pain in his eyes. CJ toyed with the idea, he hand on the chain of the door, her head still against the wood.
Reluctantly, she unchained the door and swung it open, refusing to look him in the eye as he passed by her into her apartment. She offered to take his coat, he refused, but stood there, dripping in the center of her living room.
CJ feigned exasperation, placed her hands on her hips, tilted her head. "What?" She asked, ending it on a sigh.
"CJ, something's missing here. I've felt strange since last week, and I just, I want..." He trailed off, moved around the back of her couch, sat down. Danny Concanon, the witty reporter was gone now. He had been replaced with a tortured, dejected man that CJ had never seen before.
She moved and sat down next to him on the couch. He had dropped his head into his hands, elbows resting on his knees, but when he heard her movement, he looked up, met her eyes for the first time that evening.
"I don't know what's happening here Danny, I just..." It was her turn to be at a loss for words.
"You just think it would be better if we'd be friends." He finished for her, knowing that it was coming, but not wanting to face it.
"I just think that all that we do to try and make this happen... it's not enough. It never seems to be enough."
"I know. And you know I want it to be. Really, all I want right now is, well. Nevermind." Danny leaned against the back of the couch, and his face fell just a bit more. Suddenly, he began speaking again. "I wake up at night CJ, in the middle of the night, and I wonder why you aren't with me, I wrack my brain for reasons that you're not with me right then, in my bed. And I can never come up with a good reason. So I'm gonna ask you now, give me one really good reason, one reason and I'll leave."
Stricken, she did think, but couldn't come up with a good explanation to Danny's question, so instead, she sat there silently.
"Friends." She muttered under her breath and looked over, out the window, into the rainy night.
"Platonic." He said in response, following her gaze to the rain. They both sat there for a bit, and then Danny got up and began pacing her living room, leaving boot prints all over her white rug.
She got up to halt his movement, as it was making her very agitated, and he grabbed her by the arm, stared her in the eye, willed her to try and make him stop.
And somehow in the middle of it all, his hand had snaked through her hair and his lips had collided with hers in a very unfriendly manner. Her lips responded in kind, the thought of a platonic relationship flying out the window with the rest of her reason.
Not that she was sure quite what it felt like to love someone. She was familiar with longing, like that she had felt when he had left for the year. And she had felt yearning, longing, wanting. She had missed him, and needed to be filled in some inexplicable way. As if longing wasn't enough, she would cry herself to sleep, wondering if she had truly given up what she had always wanted to have.
Depth. Intuition. Nothing had she wanted more than to know just what it would have been if it had been him,
Now she was getting a second chance, a chance to know just what exactly the true feeling of love and longing felt life.
Her hair spilled upon the off-white of her pillows and she wondered for a moment what he saw when he looked down upon her. Then, well then, she didn't care, because she saw the tiny blue flecks in his eyes, saw him staring through her and realized that he wouldn't be looking at her if she weren't letting him. If he didn't want to be there.
His kisses rained down on her cheek and for a moment she thought she heard something binding escape from his lips but she ignored it. Like she always did, because she wasn't inclined to trust.
She thought she had closed the blinds, but the moonlight filtered in anyway, splayed over the hair that was splayed over the pillow. She barely registered the tear that ran down over her cheek. Barely registered the pad of his finger that wiped it away. She was thoroughly amazed that he didn't leave then, seeing her weakness. Astounded.
Her fingers played over the texture of Danny's hair, attempting to count each curl, map his scalp. It was no use, she couldn't stay above that water that was threatening to drown her, so she let it.
Thirty-eight years, thirty-eight years and she had felt nothing remotely close to this. Her breath would hitch when his lips would fall upon her hairline, so tender, unlike the sex that she had enjoyed before. He was so startlingly tender, surprisingly loving.
And his lips fell upon hers when she felt the slide into her body. And he swallowed the gasp that escaped from her lungs and replaced it with a desperation to...
To...
Faster, harder.
But he didn't obey, would only look into her eyes and implore. Truth be told, if he were asked, he would say that it never happened like this. Never occurred with a semblance with pace; was generally finished rushed; generally ended with him leaving in the middle of the evening. It was different now, his thrusts felt purposeful, meaningful.
As much as he wished to be mad at her, punish her for making him wait so long to love her... all he could really feel was what she was to him. What he wanted from her, could feel what she wanted from him.
Because he could finally feel, all he wished to do was cry, but like any true man, held it in. Instead of tears, he dropped kisses on her cheeks, peppered them in her hair, tried to whisper things in her ear, but they were caught in her throat.
He heard her gasp, louder than before, and he looked down, into her eyes. Her first instinct was to look away, because she knew a connection like that would mean something while they were doing this. Knew once he saw the look her in eyes, he would know what it meant and wouldn't be able to pretend like his kisses meant nothing anymore. Another tear traced down her cheek and she swore that just for a moment, just a moment everything stopped and all that existed was her breath and him inside her.
But then, then he collapsed beside her, gently collapsing. Tears still staining her cheeks and his sweat still on his chin. She wished that she could find something wrong, find something to be upset about, so that she was on familiar ground again.
"You know what I want to say." He said, swiping his hand across her forehead, allowing his fingers to play in her hair. Ever so gently, she leaned into the touch and he felt her nod. "You know what I'm waiting on, I'm not saying it again CJ, I'm waiting on you."
With that, he kissed her forehead, her lips, her collarbone.
Then, she was unsure how to act, so she turned, and he brought his slightly shorter body up against hers, kissed her shoulder and said it again. "I'm just waiting on you."
Author: ScullyAsTrinity
Rating: R, for sexxxxxual situations.
Category: CJ/Danny
Notes: This part is for Amanda too because she wanted a little bit of normalcy, and a little bit of sex.
[Something Found]
Just as CJ was about to crawl into her tub for a bath, there was a loud knock at the door. She was disinclined to answer it, but did so anyway, just in case it was Josh, drunk out of his mind because he found out about the bill and drank himself into a stupor. Reaching across the back of the bathroom door, she grabbed her purple silk robe and flung it on herself.
Making her way to the front door, she was confronted with the image of a distorted Danny, through her peephole. His head hung low, and his clothes held the tell tale wetness that came from walking in a torrential downpour.
Her heart twinged for a moment, and she pressed her face against the cool wood of the door. Sighed, she sighed and looked at him again, and caught him bringing his hand up again to rap on her door.
"What is it Danny?" She murmured, not really expecting him to hear her, but he did.
"I just, can I come in? Just for a minute?" He said, his head finally lifting to reveal the pain in his eyes. CJ toyed with the idea, he hand on the chain of the door, her head still against the wood.
Reluctantly, she unchained the door and swung it open, refusing to look him in the eye as he passed by her into her apartment. She offered to take his coat, he refused, but stood there, dripping in the center of her living room.
CJ feigned exasperation, placed her hands on her hips, tilted her head. "What?" She asked, ending it on a sigh.
"CJ, something's missing here. I've felt strange since last week, and I just, I want..." He trailed off, moved around the back of her couch, sat down. Danny Concanon, the witty reporter was gone now. He had been replaced with a tortured, dejected man that CJ had never seen before.
She moved and sat down next to him on the couch. He had dropped his head into his hands, elbows resting on his knees, but when he heard her movement, he looked up, met her eyes for the first time that evening.
"I don't know what's happening here Danny, I just..." It was her turn to be at a loss for words.
"You just think it would be better if we'd be friends." He finished for her, knowing that it was coming, but not wanting to face it.
"I just think that all that we do to try and make this happen... it's not enough. It never seems to be enough."
"I know. And you know I want it to be. Really, all I want right now is, well. Nevermind." Danny leaned against the back of the couch, and his face fell just a bit more. Suddenly, he began speaking again. "I wake up at night CJ, in the middle of the night, and I wonder why you aren't with me, I wrack my brain for reasons that you're not with me right then, in my bed. And I can never come up with a good reason. So I'm gonna ask you now, give me one really good reason, one reason and I'll leave."
Stricken, she did think, but couldn't come up with a good explanation to Danny's question, so instead, she sat there silently.
"Friends." She muttered under her breath and looked over, out the window, into the rainy night.
"Platonic." He said in response, following her gaze to the rain. They both sat there for a bit, and then Danny got up and began pacing her living room, leaving boot prints all over her white rug.
She got up to halt his movement, as it was making her very agitated, and he grabbed her by the arm, stared her in the eye, willed her to try and make him stop.
And somehow in the middle of it all, his hand had snaked through her hair and his lips had collided with hers in a very unfriendly manner. Her lips responded in kind, the thought of a platonic relationship flying out the window with the rest of her reason.
Not that she was sure quite what it felt like to love someone. She was familiar with longing, like that she had felt when he had left for the year. And she had felt yearning, longing, wanting. She had missed him, and needed to be filled in some inexplicable way. As if longing wasn't enough, she would cry herself to sleep, wondering if she had truly given up what she had always wanted to have.
Depth. Intuition. Nothing had she wanted more than to know just what it would have been if it had been him,
Now she was getting a second chance, a chance to know just what exactly the true feeling of love and longing felt life.
Her hair spilled upon the off-white of her pillows and she wondered for a moment what he saw when he looked down upon her. Then, well then, she didn't care, because she saw the tiny blue flecks in his eyes, saw him staring through her and realized that he wouldn't be looking at her if she weren't letting him. If he didn't want to be there.
His kisses rained down on her cheek and for a moment she thought she heard something binding escape from his lips but she ignored it. Like she always did, because she wasn't inclined to trust.
She thought she had closed the blinds, but the moonlight filtered in anyway, splayed over the hair that was splayed over the pillow. She barely registered the tear that ran down over her cheek. Barely registered the pad of his finger that wiped it away. She was thoroughly amazed that he didn't leave then, seeing her weakness. Astounded.
Her fingers played over the texture of Danny's hair, attempting to count each curl, map his scalp. It was no use, she couldn't stay above that water that was threatening to drown her, so she let it.
Thirty-eight years, thirty-eight years and she had felt nothing remotely close to this. Her breath would hitch when his lips would fall upon her hairline, so tender, unlike the sex that she had enjoyed before. He was so startlingly tender, surprisingly loving.
And his lips fell upon hers when she felt the slide into her body. And he swallowed the gasp that escaped from her lungs and replaced it with a desperation to...
To...
Faster, harder.
But he didn't obey, would only look into her eyes and implore. Truth be told, if he were asked, he would say that it never happened like this. Never occurred with a semblance with pace; was generally finished rushed; generally ended with him leaving in the middle of the evening. It was different now, his thrusts felt purposeful, meaningful.
As much as he wished to be mad at her, punish her for making him wait so long to love her... all he could really feel was what she was to him. What he wanted from her, could feel what she wanted from him.
Because he could finally feel, all he wished to do was cry, but like any true man, held it in. Instead of tears, he dropped kisses on her cheeks, peppered them in her hair, tried to whisper things in her ear, but they were caught in her throat.
He heard her gasp, louder than before, and he looked down, into her eyes. Her first instinct was to look away, because she knew a connection like that would mean something while they were doing this. Knew once he saw the look her in eyes, he would know what it meant and wouldn't be able to pretend like his kisses meant nothing anymore. Another tear traced down her cheek and she swore that just for a moment, just a moment everything stopped and all that existed was her breath and him inside her.
But then, then he collapsed beside her, gently collapsing. Tears still staining her cheeks and his sweat still on his chin. She wished that she could find something wrong, find something to be upset about, so that she was on familiar ground again.
"You know what I want to say." He said, swiping his hand across her forehead, allowing his fingers to play in her hair. Ever so gently, she leaned into the touch and he felt her nod. "You know what I'm waiting on, I'm not saying it again CJ, I'm waiting on you."
With that, he kissed her forehead, her lips, her collarbone.
Then, she was unsure how to act, so she turned, and he brought his slightly shorter body up against hers, kissed her shoulder and said it again. "I'm just waiting on you."