Disclaimer : I think my genie is obsolete…despite the three wishes he's supposed to grant me, the characters still aren't mine. Is there a refund policy on magical brass lamps?
I admit I started this while taking a break from my open fan fics...started experiencing writer's block with them. And while I have several advanced chapters ready to go for each of them, I'd like to get a few more for each. While the mind started to wander, I came up with this...it was supposed to be short, but I was just having too much fun with it.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
He was dreaming that he was hammering wood.
Knock! Knock! Knock!
No, he was dreaming that there was a woodpecker on the tree he was walking past.
KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!
Okay, not quite dreaming any more…but why were his neighbours hammering stuff into the wall so late?
KNOCKKNOCKKNOCK!
He rolled over and groggily opened his eyes to stare at the green numbers on his clock. It was 3:17. And dreamland disappeared to admit the reality that there was someone knocking on his door…at 3-frickin'-17 in the morning.
Rolling out of bed, he stumbled through the apartment. Even in his half-asleep state, he managed to avoid making contact with end tables and couches and other potential painfully toe-stubbing objects.
KNOCKKNOCK…
Without glancing through the peephole, he ripped the door open.
There, in half-knock stance was an angel.
White dress ending above the knees, white sandals laced partway up her calves, white wings…even a halo.
The angel grinned at him and innocently asked, "Did I wake you up?"
Don Flack ran a hand through his bed-mussed hair in an attempt to clear his head.
"Even detectives need to sleep." He muttered.
"Can I come in?"
"Sure." He stepped to the side to admit entrance to the angel. Why was there an angel in his apartment? Why was there an angel in his apartment at 3 in the morning? Why was there an angel in his apartment at 3 in the morning who looked remarkably like Lindsay Monroe?
He blinked, sleep slowly leaving and alertness beginning to creep in.
"Hey, your halo's crooked." He quipped.
"I think I have a broken wing, too." The angel replied.
"I don't believe my first aid training covered that." He admitted.
"Help me lose the wings, pour me a cup of coffee and let me just relax, please."
"Uhh…Monroe…not that I mind seeing you in feathers…thanks for fulfilling that fantasy, by the way…but why are you here?" Flack asked, still not certain if he was dreaming.
"Help me lose the wings, pour me a cup of coffee and I'll explain." She amended.
"Okay…I can buy that." Flack approached and studied the wings.
"Nice boxers…you didn't strike me as the plaid type." Lindsay grinned, commenting on the detective's state of attire.
"Yeah, well, Danny's got the market on yellow happy faces, so that left me with plaid or plain. Plaid is easier to wash…goes into almost any pile."
"Spoken like a true bachelor." Lindsay paused. "How do you know about Danny's underwear, Flack?"
"You wanna lose the wings or not?"
Lindsay nodded, keeping her mouth shut.
Flack stood behind her, staring down at the wings. A feather floated up towards him and he snorted it away.
Lindsay stood patiently, feeling his body warmth even through her white angel costume.
"There was a party at my building. Things got a little wild and out of hand." She started to explain as Don's fingers found the fasteners holding the wings on to her back.
"Um hmm…" He hummed, working the straps.
Lindsay felt a small jolt as his fingers skimmed her back. The angel costume was made of flimsy material…thin and clingy.
"My neighbour got a little drunk and wouldn't leave me alone. Backed me into a wall while attempting to ask me out."
"Why didn't you just go back to your place and shut the door?"
"Too loud." She exhaled as the wings were removed.
"Why didn't you call the cops?"
Lindsay turned to face Don and rolled her eyes.
"I have to live with these people. I figure one party, one night…tomorrow it'll all be forgotten."
Don shrugged. He didn't believe it would be, but let Lindsay figure it out.
"Coffee?" She asked.
"Look, I'll make the coffee while you get changed." Don suggested. "You can't be comfortable in that."
Lindsay shrugged it off.
"Besides, I'm not comfortable seeing you in that. I'm a guy…half asleep…"
"You suggesting you'd come on to me?"
"Like I said, half asleep. And it's short…I can see you legs…nice legs, fyi…and it's clingy."
"So?"
"Short, clingy dresses do strange things to guys, Lindsay…especially when we're half asleep. Please. Get. Changed." Don almost begged as he pointed towards his room. "Help yourself."
Shaking her head in disbelief, Lindsay made her way to the darkened room. She was sorry that she had woken him up, but he was the easiest to reach from her place.
The bed was rumpled, indicating that the normally calm and collected Detective Flack was a restless sleeper. She placed her hand on the side with the dented pillow and detected the warmth. Guilt gnawed at her for waking him. She'd make it up to him somehow.
Rummaging though his dresser, she found an old pair of faded blue NYPD sweat pants and a tshirt proclaiming the wearer to be a "wild thing".
Lindsay stood and noticed that the pants were definitely on the long side for her frame. Giggling, she wandered out into the kitchen and stared at Flack as he hovered over the coffee pot. She noticed the muscles in his bare back and found herself wanting to rub them, massage them.
"Guess they're a bit on the large side for me." She announced herself.
Turning, Flack stared. The pants bunched up around her ankles. The tshirt, an old thing given to him as a joke from some past female friend, hung on her.
"Yeah." He approached and knelt in front of her.
"What are you…"
"Tripping hazard. The last thing I need is to explain at work today how you hit yourself on the head when you tripped in my apartment at 3 in the morning."
"Sorry for waking you."
"Why the hell is your apartment having a party on a weeknight?"
"The social committee thought it would keep drinking to a low level." Lindsay admitted. "Guess they were wrong."
"Why an angel?" Don asked as he finished rolling up one leg and started on the other.
"It was one of the few costumes I could find in my size."
"Looks like my angel has fallen back to earth." Don whispered as he stood, commenting on her decidedly non-heavenly attire. Still looked good on her, though, he noted.
Lindsay stared silently at him. Her brown eyes left his face and traveled down his bare chest. She swallowed slowly.
"I'm…uhh…I'm gonna get a shirt." He said.
"No!"
Don stopped, confused.
"I mean, don't get dressed on my account." Lindsay winced. Smooth going, Monroe!
Flack hesitated. He was comfortable enough in just his boxers, but he had company…female company…Lindsay company.
The coffee pot spluttered out the last drops loudly, interrupting their awkward moment.
Don moved past her to grab two mugs from the cupboard.
Again, Lindsay found herself fascinated at watching his back muscles. And that's why you don't want him to grab a shirt. Her inner voice was mocking.
Flack turned to ask Lindsay how she wanted her coffee and found himself watching her staring at him.
And that's you don't want to grab a shirt! His inner voice taunted.
"Sugar?" He asked.
"Darling." She replied.
Blue eyes blinked, as he realized she was teasing him.
Two could play at that game.
"So, uh, this guy at your apartment…" He started.
Brown eyes turned wary.
"Yes…" Lindsay said slowly.
"What did he do again?"
"He wouldn't leave me alone…kept invading my personal space…"
Don approached slowly, his eyes never leaving hers…
"And?" He prompted.
"Kept trying to pin me in against a wall."
Flack placed his hands on the wall, his arms on both sides of her head, blocking her in between him and the wall.
"And?" He continued.
"He said something about improving neighbourly relations." Lindsay whispered, suddenly on edge at Don's behaviour.
"Ah." Don nodded knowingly, as he leaned in. "You know, we really should do something to get to know each other better. After all, we work together…it'd be nice to know that you have my back if necessary. We need to trust each other, right? Work together…long hours…pop in at 3 in the morning…it's all about understanding each other."
Lindsay stopped breathing as she felt warmth on her neck…slowly trailing light pressure down to where her neck and shoulder met. She gasped, feeling Don's lips find that soft spot just above the collarbone. His lips gave way to gentle nuzzling.
She raised her hands, in mild protest, only to find them bracing up against his bare chest. Unwillingly, her finger curled up on his skin, nails gently clawing.
It was his turn to gasp. Definitely the right decision to not grab a shirt.
He pulled away slightly to look down at Lindsay's petite body.
His blue eyes, normally so aware of the goings-on around him, looked confused.
"I'm not dreaming this, right? You are here?" His mind had started to wonder if he was sleepwalking and dreaming that there was a fallen angel here in kitchen and almost in his arms.
Lindsay bit her inner lip and nodded slowly.
"And you came here because you didn't want to be with your drunken neighbour?" Don's mind was slowly kicking into gear.
Lindsay shook her head.
He inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly.
"You thought you'd be safe here…and here I am practically mauling you like him." Don bowed his head.
"Hey, I am safe here." Lindsay tilted his head so that they were looking at each other. It was her turn to take a deep breath.
"I'm even safer here." She stepped forward, chest to chest. Reaching back, Lindsay took one of Don's hands away from the wall and wrapped around her waist.
He moved his other arm slowly, so that the fallen angel was now in his embrace. Safe.
They stood in his kitchen, silent, listening to the other breathe…catching the faint beating of their own hearts.
Lindsay breathed him in, catching the faint scent of his soap.
She yawned.
Don felt her jaw expand on his chest and smiled.
"You want that coffee now?" He asked, reluctant to let Lindsay go.
Soft brown hair moved, her head shaking in the negative.
"Okay." He paused, realizing that they couldn't just stand here in the kitchen. "What would you like?"
He felt her smile and suddenly became slightly nervous.
Lindsay reached a hand up and dragged her nails down his chest again.
"Why do I have this feeling that my fallen angel has turned to the dark side?" He muttered.
"Aren't you mixing metaphors, Flack?" She asked huskily. "I'm still just an angel."
"Yeah, with broken wings, a crooked halo and I have this funny feeling that somewhere under that hair are two little devil horns."
"What about a forked tail?" She asked innocently.
He nodded without thinking.
"Well, then, I think you should find out. After all, if I'm a devil in disguise, you should know, right?"
"And…ummm…how do you suggest I find out?" He asked, his stomach flipping.
"You're the detective…look for the evidence."
"But what do I do with the evidence when I find it?"
"You're in luck, detective." Lindsay stood up a bit and licked one of his nipples. "I happen to be a CSI. I'll help you to interpret the evidence."
"Aren't you biased, though? You'll tell me what you want me to hear. Sounds devilish to me."
"Oh, for the love of…" Lindsay reached up and grabbed Flack's head. She pulled him down to her level and crushed his mouth against hers.
His fingers, which had been lying on the sides of her hips, flexed outwards before digging into the soft flesh and pulling her closer to him.
This was heaven, he mused. Only an angel – fallen or not – could do this to him.
A moan was heard…like someone suffering...only in hell would such a sound be heard, though. He realized it was him.
His tongue demanded entrance and, like the gates of heaven, Lindsay's lips parted. The suffering left and he rejoiced in exploring her moist, warm mouth.
Without thinking, his thumbs began to rub in small circles on the points of her hips, slowly increasing in pressure.
Another moan was heard and he realized that this time it was Lindsay.
He picked her up and turned one hundred and eighty degrees. Backing her up towards the counter-top, his body lined flush up against hers. As they reached the counter, he lifted her up so that he could gain better entrance into her mouth.
A soft clang was heard as the two empty and forgotten mugs were knocked over.
Tongues fused, meshed, warred, parried and comforted. Hands grabbed, rubbed, clawed and gave solace. Pain and consolation. Give and take. They explored each other, only to return to territory discovered moments ago.
Lindsay ran a leg along one of Don's thighs and wrapped it around his waist, pulling him up against her on the counter.
Hardness met her covered soft entrance. Don growled softly in frustration.
Lindsay heard the growl and felt it through Flack's chest and mouth.
She peeled her mouth away and took deep breaths of cool air.
They remained there, one standing and one sitting, forehead to forehead, each trying to regain self-control.
"Don, I…"
"Linds, I…"
They started to speak at the same time…and stopped together. Just breathing.
"I want…" Lindsay started.
"Oh hell." Don pulled her against him again, pressing his mouth against hers, ravaging her with his tongue. "Lindsay, you aren't safe here."
She felt cold as he stepped away from her.
Lindsay hopped off of the counter and approached cautiously.
"I'm safer than you realize." A finger reached out and tugged the waist band of his boxers.
He shook his head in silent protest.
Lindsay watched his black locks move and reached up to smoothe them.
He backed up again.
She followed, her usually soft brown eyes suddenly taking on a predatory gleam.
Another step backwards. Damn, he hit the wall.
Another step forward and Lindsay found herself falling towards Don..
In their primitive kitchen tango, neither had noticed one of the pant legs unrolling. The tripping hazard Don had mentioned was suddenly proven to be a correct premonition.
Don bent down and caught her.
"Aren't you going to say 'I told you so'?" She asked.
"Nah…but maybe we should see if I have anything more your size." He suggested.
Walking carefully, the two entered his bedroom.
Flack suddenly became aware of where they were and the nerves returned.
"Okay…pants…short pants…." He muttered, opening his closet.
"I've got an idea." Lindsay announced.
Flack turned to catch Lindsay sitting on his bed and taking off the long sweatpants.
"If you're in your boxers, why can't I just walk around equally au naturel?" She pouted playfully.
Blue eyes stared in shock at the pants lying on the floor…and started their slow climb up delicate feet, smooth calves, sexy knees, soft thighs…and stopped their voyeuristic voyage at white lace.
"Lindsay!" Don raced to her, grabbing the discarded pants and tossed them into her lap.
"Don!" She jokingly protested and tossed the pants out into the hallway.
He looked around and grabbed the sheets and blankets he had tossed back earlier.
"Here." He covered her with the linen.
"You joining me?" She asked coyly.
"I'm not tired." He muttered.
"Goodie. Neither am I." Lindsay grabbed one of Don's hands as she leaned back.
"Lindsay." He moaned as lay on top of her. "I'm just a man, okay. And right now, a weak-willed one. With women, I just usually take what I want…but you're different. I can't just do that. You're…"
"Don." Lindsay's brown eyes were now serious, an honesty shining through them. "Take me."
He gulped, staring down at her in disbelief.
"Because if you don't, I'm going to take you."
He raised a dark eyebrow.
"And if I do the taking right now, you'll be walking funny tomorrow."
Don licked his lips.
"Flack…" Lindsay's voice warned.
"Okay, okay…I'm taking, I'm taking." He murmured, lowering his head.
"Oh, goodie." Lindsay whispered, arching up as he started to nuzzle the side of her neck again.
He turned her face to align their mouths. Again, his tongue asked for permission and he moaned softly as it was granted. Bracing himself on one elbow allowed his other hand to roam over her form under the sheets and blankets.
He knew that just under the linen, white lace waited for him. His male instinct told him it would be damp.
A large hand cupped her and even though the layers of cotton he felt her heat. Lindsay arched upwards again, mewing her desire and frustration.
"Don, I…" She gasped.
"I know…me, too." He brought his hand up to her face, stroking it, soothing it.
"Warm." She muttered.
He rolled off and tugged the sheets off of Lindsay. Again, he looked at the shirt, smiling at how appropriate 'wild thing' suddenly seemed.
"Hey, it's lonely over here." Lindsay grinned.
"I'm no CSI, but I know enough about angles and positions…" He started.
"Where you going with this, Flack?" She asked, wriggling over to grab one of his hands and place it on one of her thighs.
He looked down her legs overhanging the edge of the bed.
"Up and rotate, angel." He ordered, his head tilting towards the pillows at the head of the bed. He was too determined to not take her on the edge of his bed like some untried teenager.
"Don't like a challenge?" She taunted as she moved.
He leaned in and kissed her stomach, bared from the twisting shirt. Somewhere, he dug up enough control to ignore the lace just below his jaw.
"Last chance, Lindsay." He warned softly.
"Don…I came here because I knew I would be safe…and I am. There's no place safer than here, with you, in your arms, in your bed…"
He stretched out beside her, rolling her over to face him.
"Thank god, cuz I don't think I could have let you go even if you had changed your mind."
Pulling her towards him, he kissed her, nipping her lower lip and soothing it afterwards.
Lindsay allowed a hand to skim down his ribs, trailing her finger nails until they met the band of his boxers. Sliding a finger under the elastic, she roamed down to his hip bone.
He tensed.
"Easy, fella." Lindsay whispered, as if calming a wild horse. "Easy."
Her whole hand slid under the cloth and, brushing lightly over the springy pubic hair, she wrapped her fingers around him.
He closed his eyes and hissed in pleasure.
Gently, her hand began to move, her fingers stroking him.
His hand covered hers.
"Hey, you want this over before it's even started?" He rasped out.
"It might take the edge off." She suggested.
"I don't want the edge taken off." He argued. "But this has to come off."
Pulling her upper torso off of the bed, Flack all but ripped the tshirt off of Lindsay.
"My god, you are an angel…so perfect." Don's voice was husky with awe and wonder. Reaching down, he stroked the side of one breast before cupping it.
Lindsay's head fell back against the pillows, eyes closed at the pleasure.
His hands covered her breasts, thumbs rolling in lazy circles over her dusky nipples. Her state of arousal was clearly indicated by the traitorously erect tips.
Eyes opening, Lindsay watched as Don lowered himself on top of her. She felt his erection against her and wiggled in impatience.
"Don…"
Blue eyes slowly met her brown ones.
"Sorry, babe…but you're just perfect…soft…" He nuzzled one breast as his hand played with the other. "And you smell so damn good."
Lindsay gasped as the detective's mouth settled over one nipple and started to suck. She felt his teeth gently roll the tip and didn't notice that the other breast was now neglected.
The hand that been paying attention to the other side was now slowly sliding down her rib cage and skimmed over her hip.
She inhaled sharply as a never-found-before erogenous zone made its presence known. Her hip being caressed shot a numbing pleasure up her side and her hips thrust upwards.
Don chuckled softly, his mouth continuing its ministrations on her breasts.
Lindsay tugged on his head, pulling Don up so that she could kiss him. It had only been moments, but already she found herself missing his mouth on hers. She hummed in pleasure as his tongue entered her mouth and entwined itself with her own.
She stilled briefly when she realized that his hand had ventured further south from his hip. Don hooked a thumb under the edge of the lace panties and tugged them down. Ever the cooperative one, Lindsay arched herself like a cat so that Don, trailing kisses as he moved south with his hand, removed the lace.
He kissed the insides of her knees and began working north again, coming to a pause at her mound.
Lindsay looked down at him and smiled. It was the only form of permission…encouragement…he needed. Leaning down, he parted the folds and breathed her in. With her scent invading his own senses, he licked her gently.
"Oh, D….D….Don…" She stammered, hands weaving into his hair.
Lindsay felt him smile against her thighs, male ego fully charged now.
She pulled him into her.
Okay, male ego just enlarged…along with another male aspect.
He licked, sucked, nipped, soothed…all while Lindsay gasped his name, writhed, wiggled, protested and encouraged.
Feeling a need to kiss her suddenly, Don slid up her body. Lindsay's eyes widened, realizing that he had removed his boxers at the same time as he removed her lace panties. She could feel him, no barriers, on her and that was the most delicious sensation.
He braced himself on his elbows, placed on either side of her head.
"Hey." He said.
"Hey, yourself." Lindsay smiled.
Don leaned down and kissed her. She tasted him…she tasted herself on him. She smelled him. She smelled herself on him. Her head swam.
His hips nudged her and she parted her legs so that she could wrap them around him.
"Lindsay."
"Hmmmm?"
"Open your eyes, babe. I want to watch you when we join."
God, it took so much energy to open them…to wade through the anticipation and rejoin him in the here-and-now.
She licked her lips.
Don leaned down and licked them, catching a faint taste of herself on her lips.
Slowly, he nudged himself forward and found his tip poised at her moist entrance.
Gently, he entered her going half-way in…savouring the feeling of her walls around him.
He pulled out. Lindsay frowned.
He pushed in again, sliding up to the hilt.
Lindsay's brown eyes fluttered and she bit her lip.
"Lindsay, you feel so…"
"Don, wow…"
A few nudges, a few moments, a few wiggles and the two found a rhythm to call their own. He watched her beneath him, watched as she struggled between concentrating on him and giving in to the feelings.
"Let it go, Lindsay."
"Hmm?" Her eyes flew open.
"Go with the feelings…stop thinking…don't analyze…just…enjoy." He thrust a little bit more deeply to accentuate what he was saying.
"Oh!" Brown eyes widened and then fluttered in pleasure.
She couldn't feel her toes. Or fingers. Or several other body parts. And yet, she felt that her body was sensitized in way she had never experienced.
Lindsay tilted her head to the side.
Fingers were just explained. At some point, Flack grabbed her hands and meshed their fingers together. Right now, their hands were pressing down into the pillows.
In the back of her mind, she noted that Flack had an awful lot of pillows for a guy.
In fact…
Oh! He thrust deeply into her again, reminding her of where she was supposed to be.
She smiled guiltily up at him.
"Welcome back, babe."
"It's nice to be back…mmmmm…." She rolled her hips against him.
Blue eyes widened this time.
"Where did you learn…"
"Instinct."
"God bless mother nature."
Hips rolled again causing him to gasp.
"Lindsay, I have every intention of not coming before you, but if you…" He swore as she rolled her hips.
"If I what?" She grinned up at him.
"If you keep doing that…"
"This?" Again with the hips…dear god, she was killing him…
Back to the sparring were they?
He rolled his own hips against hers as they began their torture.
Both of them stopped and stared at each other in shock.
Those sensations…woah…tentatively, they rolled again…oh yeah…that was the Move…with a capital M.
Together they rolled against each other, finding nerves and spots that were usually discussed in locker room banter and girlie magazines.
"Don…I'm…"
He smiled down at her.
"C'mon, Lindsay…come for me…" He thrust and leaned down to kiss her.
"Mmm…"
"Oh..oh my!" Lindsay arched, her walls quivering, pulling him deeper. She leaned up and bit his shoulder to keep from screaming.
That little bit of pain was enough to throw him over the edge. Gasping her name, he thrust quickly into her, letting the white lights behind his eyes render him momentarily blind.
Collapsing on top of her, he breathed rapidly.
"I must be crush…"
Lindsay wrapped her arms around Don, holding his sweaty body against her own.
"Safe." She murmured.
Who's protecting whom, the detective wondered idly.
He leaned up and brushed a strand of damp brown hair away from her face. Lindsay smiled a thank you.
Sighing, Don rolled off and stretched out beside his new bedmate.
"So…" He started, suddenly feeling awkward.
"So." She replied, looking at him.
"When's the next party at your building?"
Lindsay ran a hand through Flack's hair.
"Tomorrow."
He blinked.
She shrugged.
"I mean, it's a Friday…wild and crazy things happen on Fridays. I think I'd be much safer here."
"Me, too." Flack nodded in agreement.
Lindsay yawned and flushed in embarrassment.
"C'mon…let's get some shut-eye. We can stop off at your place tomorrow on the way into work. Get you all presentable."
Lindsay frowned.
"The way I see it, Monroe," he started, "You have two choices if we went straight in from here. My clothing, which obviously doesn't fit, or your fallen angel costume. Either one's gonna start the rumours."
"Good point." Lindsay yawned again.
"Come here." Don pulled her closer. "Even detectives and angels need sleep."
She nodded sleepily, feeling safe.