A/N: I'm back! Well, Robin is. I think you'll enjoy this almost as much as she does.

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Meddling – Robin 4
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"Anything you heard tonight that you'd like to try?" His voice is husky, seductive and my stomach flutters and tightens. Instinctively, I know that this is a tone that he has perfected and used successfully on many, many, and many, women. I just can't seem to force myself to resist it on principle. This man is a drug.

Instead, I'm leaning against the doorpost of my Uncle Mac's house and my face hurts from smiling so much tonight and I think my blush might become permanent in that way that adults warn children that their face will freeze that way when they make faces. For the record, I never believed that, I'm just now wondering if there might be a grain of truth when you've held the face for say, oh, four or five hours.

Sighing softly I grasp the lapels of his black, cashmere coat. Looking up at him I'm not bothering to hide just how much there are many, many things he's lectured me on tonight that I want to try. I lick my lips, pleased to see his eyes flicker down to watch and to feel his breathing shift, quicken, under my hands. I tilt my head back and let out a husky laugh. He's leaning over me in that way that invades my space and that used to annoy me at the hospital. I pull at his coat and let out another laugh as the unexpected movement causes him to stumble slightly.

"There was this one thing you mentioned," I tell him. Truly, the man should have a degree in talking about kissing. And poetry; his descriptions of kissing, including hand placement, are poetic. He was right that day when he told me he was cultured and a good conversationalist. And I was partially right to ascribe such talents as being related to the culture and conversation of seduction. I can't particularly complain about that now.

Maybe tomorrow? The voice of cynical reason floats through my mind and a small sigh, sad this time, escapes between my lips.

"Stop thinking, Scorpio."

I close my eyes and tell him to just talk to me. When he talks to me I can let myself go. It's the silence that gets me in trouble. Or saves me, depending on your perspective.

"Which particular type of kiss did you want to try? Where should I place. My. Hands?" Even as he asks he slides one hand behind my neck and puts the other one on my waist. Yeah. That's the one. He must have been filing away my reactions to the various things he described in that gravelly voice of his. Maybe his medical school really did give degrees in Seductive Arts?

"This one?" His breath blows across my lips. I want to whimper. It's just a kiss!

Oh. My. God.

My knuckles must be white on the lapels of his coat as his lips and breath work a magic that I can feel tingling through my entire body. He hasn't even pulled me away from the door, his hands are just resting where's he puts them, the pads of his fingers playing me like an instrument in time with his lips.

I have never been kissed like this. I will never resent his experience again.

All right, I will. Just not when he's kissing Ime/I.

A whimper does escape my throat when he pulls back. My eyes pop open and widen as I see the effect that this kiss has on him. His cheeks are flushed and his eyes are dilated and dangerously hooded as he looks down on me. I see him swallow a couple of times before he clears his throat.

"I think I'd better go, Robin."

My eyes drop to the hands still gripping his coat. It takes my mind a few stuttering moments to pass along the command to let go. My fingers ache from holding on so tight.

"We are doing this again."

The kiss or the date thing? I bite my lip to stop myself from telling him to sod dinner and next time let's just get right to the kissing. Not that I could speak in coherent sentences right now.

"Go inside, Robin. Get some rest."

I nod dumbly and I don't even care when he chuckles and asks me for my keys. I'm sharing the humor with him as I dig the keys out of my coat pocket and hand them to his outstretched hand. I'm really hoping that Uncle Mac isn't waiting on the other side of the door for me. I feel about sixteen right now as it is.

My keys are clutched in my hand as I fall against the door he has closed behind me. This time my slide to the floor is because my legs are completely rubbery from the lingering sensation of his lips on mine. I'm not sure I will actually survive making love to that man.