Destiny

Chapter 11: Poison and Pussycats

Warning: There be kissing. If it bothers you, don't read the last half of the chapter.

Bruno Dante glared at the paperwork on his desk. The piles bred when his back was turned, he was certain of it. He loved being in charge, but he hated this part of his responsibility. Oh he'd still do it, especially since it covered his ass, but there were nights when he just couldn't look at another page. Tonight was one of those nights.

If he had to read one more report, Bruno would not be responsible for his actions. This made it the perfect time to go check on McCarty. He had magnanimously allowed the rookie an entire day to think it over. Surely by now Jake had come to the right decision. Dante pushed his chair back with a sense of relief.

Making a quick stop at the coffee pot, Dante nodded to Orlinsky, letting the older man know what he was doing. The detective waited until his captain had walked into Pezzini and McCarty's office before standing. He carried an open file with him, pretending to be pacing and reading, but was actually making sure that no one would interrupt Dante.

The captain shut the door behind him and sat on the edge of McCarty's desk. "So, what did you decide?"

"Look, you're not going to ask me to do anything that would hurt Sara, right? I mean, I know she's a bitch, but she's still a cop." Jake knew he sounded like an idealistic moron, but that was the role he had chosen.

"She's a menace to other cops, you mean. Come on Jake; let's be honest here. If you didn't think she was hot, you wouldn't care what I wanted you to do." Bruno said bluntly.

"Yes I would. She's my partner, and partners take care of each other." McCarty protested, knowing how much Dante liked displays of loyalty, even if he felt they were misguided.

"Pezzini has dropped the ball too often, and it's always her partner who's left with his ass hanging out. That doesn't sound like someone I'd want to ride with. Aren't you afraid that one of these days her hot-dogging is gonna get you a spot next to Woo?" Dante pushed off of Jake's desk and paced, his arms flying with the intensity of his delivery.

Suddenly he stopped and put both hands on the desk. Bruno leaned down into McCarty's face and whispered, "Or worse, some complete innocent? Can you live with that detective? 'Cause I don't think I could."

"No." Jake bowed his head, as if in guilt. He kept it down until he was sure he had his face under control.

Inside he was seething. Pezzini was a lot of things, hot tempered, intolerant of anything that went against her personal code, domineering, and sometimes just plain bitchy. None of that made her a bad cop. In fact, they were necessary skills in a job this tough. Except maybe for the temper, but that was probably caused Sara's work environment. In a department where she was encouraged and guided by her captain, that might not even be an issue.

If the White Bulls had their way, it would never happen. The only way the Pezzinis of this world had a chance was if these bastards went down. This was part of what kept Jake on the job, all the good cops who were getting screwed for sticking by their convictions.

"All I want is for my people to be safe, and that means getting Pezzini off the force. With your help, I can do that. Are you with us?" Dante's voice gentled.

"I'm in," Jake said, glad he'd had the foresight to bug his own office. Everything Dante said would be another nail in the Bulls coffin.

"Welcome aboard. Now I know that you have concerns about what I want you to do. Relax. I think your imagination ran away with you. I don't want Pezzini dead. I just want her gone. So here's what I want you to do..." Dante leaned forward, keeping one eye on the door.

Jake clenched his fists under the desk as the man who was supposed to be the moral compass for the department poured poisoned words in his ear.

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The loud synthesizer music of the final battle pulled Sara from her unintended slumber. She opened eyes she hadn't realized she'd closed. The Fremen were riding their worms through the storm, attacking the Imperial troops. Pez glanced over at Ian and found his attention totally focused on the movie.

Enjoying the opportunity to watch him for a change, Sara gave a sleepy smile. Ian really was a hottie. It gave her a little thrill to see him sprawled out on her futon like he belonged there. Her eyelids were still heavy, and she closed them for a moment, basking in the rightness of the moment.

When she opened them again the movie was over. Sara was a bit upset with herself; she had wanted to watch Ian's face when Paul told off the Reverend Mother. Maybe he would want to talk about the movie, and she could get his reaction then? Pez turned her head to ask Nottingham if he had liked the movie, and found his face was inches from her own.

The faint flickering light of the television played over Ian's face, his eyes dark and mysterious. Slowly, hesitantly, he leaned forward. His lips brushed Sara's softly, testing his welcome.

Sara was surprised that Ian had taken the initiative. He never had before. It was nice to see him gaining confidence. Although Pezzini liked to call the shots most of the time, that didn't mean she wanted to be in sole charge of the relationship. What she wanted was a partner, not a patsy.

As the kiss deepened, Sara gave up on coherent thinking. Ian's lips were a familiar softness but the brush of beard and slight tickle of mustache were new. She fell into the myriad sensations, head tilting slightly to afford him better access. His tongue traced the curve of her lower lip before nipping it, just hard enough to send shivers down her spine.

Ian curled a hand in her hair, which he had not been able to do that night in the limousine. It was like wrapping his hand in warm, living silk. Impulsively he broke the kiss to bury his face in the rich brown locks and breathe deeply. Her hair smelled faintly of citrus, no sissy floral scented soap for Detective Pezzini. The lemon verbena blended with something subtler, an indefinable aroma that was all Sara. To Ian it was headier than the most expensive of perfumes.

"You smell incredible," Ian murmured against the delicate shell of Sara's ear.

Pez shivered in response and shifted restlessly against the hard body pressed against her own. She ran her hands down his back, reveling in the feel of hard muscle under the knit cotton of his black turtleneck.

Ian arched under her hands and purred in approval of her exploratory touch. Hesitantly he slid his hand out of her hair and followed Sara's lead by stroking down the line of her spine. She felt so good; he could hardly believe this was real. He turned his head slightly and kissed her neck, lips lingering over the rapid beat of her pulse.

Sara fisted her hand in Nottingham's hair and let her head fall back. Ian accepted the mute invitation to continue, kissing his way across her collarbone. He moved a little lower but was stopped by the fabric of her t-shirt. Remembering how it had felt to watch Sara slide down his body when they had danced, Ian decided to return the favor. He shifted back slightly, giving himself room to move. His head pulled back last, but not far.

At first Sara thought Ian was ending their embrace before it had begun, but when she opened her eyes she could see that was not the case. The heavy eyes, the flushed cheeks, the slow feline way he moved all spoke to her of a man in the grips of strong desire.

His breath was hot through the thin fabric of her shirt. Sara watched as he shifted downward, not knowing what Ian was going to do next. When he began to follow the curve of her breast, breathing through his open mouth with the barest hint of space between them, she trembled in anticipation. Just watching that dark head descend over the faded NYPD tee was more erotic than it had any right to be. He wasn't even touching her and her nipples were drawn tight under the blue cloth.

When his hand moved cautiously up from her ribcage to brush the side of her breast, she gave a wordless moan of encouragement.

To Ian's untrained ear it sounded like pain. Had he somehow jolted her stitches? He jerked his hand back as if it had been burned. He had not meant to go so far. A few kisses yes. How could he not wish to taste those honeyed lips? But he had to stop now, before the throbbing in his groin overrode his brain completely and he forgot about her arm again.

"Sara, I have to stop. Your wound," Ian was surprised to hear how rough and unsteady his voice was.

"Is fine," Pezzini all but snapped. Frustration made her cranky, and Sara was as turned on as she had ever been in her life. Her whole body was vibrating with tension.

"It might be now, but I would not trust me so much, were I in your place. Your kisses have a way of making me forget about everything else." Nottingham was so wrapped up in guilt that he said more than he had intended.

Sara stilled, temper blunted but not completely gone. "It does, does it?"

"Hallows the soul right out of my body," Ian agreed, peeping up at her through dark lashes.

How could she stay angry with Ian when he looked at her like that? Said things like that? It was rather flattering to realize that she affected him so strongly. Flattering, and exciting. Sara took a deep breath and fought the urge to pounce. Ian was right. Her arm was not up to the wild ride she suspected their first time together would be.

"So it's a spiritual thing?" Sara teased gently.

"Mind, body, and spirit in the most complete blending I have ever experienced." Ian covered her lips with a finger as she moved to reply. "I know such talk makes you uncomfortable. I will not speak of it again."

Feeling suspiciously like the little boy in 'Princess Bride', Sara shook her head. "I don't mind so much." Not anymore. Maybe not ever again.

A/N: Thank you all for reviewing. Erin, sorry it's been so long between posts. It takes me twice as long to write something with Jake in it. I have to rewrite it a few times before it sounds right in my head. I have every intention of finishing this, but I may slow down on posts a bit as we go into the holiday madness. Camyde, Thelma, Dune is one of the best written books I've ever gotten my little hands on. I reread it almost yearly. BorntoFire, I miss the series too. Hopefully this chapter will help tide you over until TopCow gets the movie made. (for anyone who hasn't heard about this, go to from the Texas Wizard Con. Cindy, well, it was better than 'Margaret Thatcher naked on a cold day'. LOL  Ian always reminded me of a big cat too. It's the way he moves. Meli-Chan, glad to have you along for the ride. Sara won't go quietly, the Force is her last link to her father. Dante is going to have a fight on his hands, even if he is holding most of the cards. Pezzini, nice to see ya again, and thanks for the review.