Two Pair, Queen High

by Penn O'Hara

These two pairs of detectives have gone where no partnered detectives should go, so… how do they handle it? Two different pairings behaving in different ways. Carolyn'Mike, then Bobby'Alex. An epilogue to A Shift of Axis, in two parts. Girls' POV.

An epilogue to "A Shift of Axis", in two parts. This one from the women's POV. Carolyn/Mike, then Alex/Bobby.

oOo

"Two Pair, Queen High"

Copyright 2006 Penn O'Hara

T

Usual disclaimers apply.

Companion piece is "Two Pair, King High", the men's POV.

Timeline: Immediately after "A Shift of Axis"

A/N: These two pairs of detectives have gone where no partnered detectives should go, so… how do they handle it? Two different pairings behaving in different ways.

oOo

The ladies' POV…

Rubbing her forehead, Carolyn looked up from the legal pad in front of her. It had been an eventful day with a satisfactory, if not brilliant, ending. Deakins had sent the four of them home to change but ordered them back for debriefing. But now she wanted nothing more than to go back home and sleep.

Thumping her elbows onto her desk, she rested her chin on bridged fingers and watched Mike opposite her, persevering on the laptop and exhibiting a fair semblance of multi-fingered typing effort. If he were that good, she wondered why he'd insisted she type up his notes the night before.

She sighed. Had it only been twenty-fours hours since she'd jumped him in the locker room? What a delicious thought. Instead of recording copious notes on the day's events, she could be in the precinct sauna easing the day's tension out of her body and having her way with Mike at the same time. That would be even better than going home and sleeping. She sighed again.

Gazing at the dark sheen of his hair, the darker bold lines of his brows and prominent nose that didn't detract from the appeal of a very masculine jaw and chin and very kissable mouth, Carolyn couldn't stop another sigh.

Mike looked up without raising his head, his bright eyes agleam with humor. "That's the third sigh in almost as many seconds," he said. "What's up?"

Carolyn felt the heat rise from her neck and flood her face. She was glad he couldn't mind-read. "I just wish we were anywhere else than stuck here at our desks."

"We? You including me in that fantasy?"

Carolyn smiled. "Sure am."

Mike rested his wrists on the edge of his laptop and fixed her with an interested look. "Where did you have in mind?"

"Well…" Carolyn considered trying for coy teasing and then decided against it, going for the direct approach instead. "I just finished reliving our workout in the locker room and was in the process of imagining you in my bed or me in yours. What do you think?"

Mike's brows shot up. "You got a girly bed, by any chance?"

"Girly bed?" Carolyn suppressed the smile this time, and schooled her face into what she hoped was a look of indignation. "Define 'girly'."

"Lacy bedspread. Lotsa pillows. Pink bed lamps…"

Carolyn sat back in her chair, playing the game and changing her indignation into mock horror. "Do I look like a woman who has pink bed lamps?"

Logan looked her over, hanging back with his answer, then relented. "Nah. You look like you've got muted ceiling spotties…track lighting even…brown and cream comforter with chocolate sheets, a firm mattress and a coupla silk scarves in the drawer beside your bed."

"Shit!" Carolyn back-pedaled, pushing her chair back and nearly knocking over her mug of cold coffee. "How did you–?!"

Logan laughed and went back to his typing.

"Mike…" Carolyn hissed. "How did you know?"

He ignored her, concentrating on the keyboard in front of him.

Leaving her chair, Carolyn rounded the desk and lowered the lid of his laptop, letting him slip his hands out in time but preventing him from continuing with his work. "How do you know about the scarves?"

Mike looked up into her face, held her shocked eyes for an instant, then his humor evaporated. He cocked his head to the side, his eyelids half-closing and Carolyn's gaze was drawn to his lips, looking full and enticing. Her heart hammered in her chest.

"Eames told me about the lights and bed linen." Mike's voice lowered to a sexy rumble. "The scarves I guessed."

Carolyn went to swat him but he caught her wrist in his and held, massaging the pulse that skittered under her sensitized skin, a favorite caress of his. "You get to belt me after sex, Barek, not before."

Carolyn's knees nearly buckled at the sensuous laden promise. God! She wanted him bad. "Let's go," she breathed. "I want to see you naked on those chocolate sheets, Logan."

His mouth curved in a slow grin. "What about the paperwork?"

Looking round the late night office, Carolyn saw only a few hardcore workers shuffling through papers. And of course, Bobby and Alex, although ordered home by Deakins, were still sitting at their desks trying desperately to pretend each other didn't exist. Carolyn determined to find out what went down to put such a tangible barrier between them.

"It'll be here tomorrow morning," she said, looking back at Mike. "If there's one constant in my workday, I know it's the paperwork."

"Hey, there's a second constant now," he said, eyes wide and pointing to his chest. "Me!"

"Ooooh, yeah." Carolyn entered into the spirit of his fun, having made her decision. "So get your nice buns out of that chair and take me home!"

He finally got the hint. Carolyn watched Mike stand and bow toward her and she was sure she saw a challenge in his eyes. Play or pay.

Carolyn fully intended to play.

oOo

Watching Mike saunter down her hallway, checking out the dark wooden hues of the furnishings in her living room, Carolyn wondered what he thought of her décor. Heavy oak cupboards and sideboards, battered walnut oval dining room suite, and scuffed teak and brocade three-seater couch all came under his scrutiny. But Carolyn figured it was the detective in him, casing the place, rather than showing a genuine interest in how she decorated her apartment.

She was proud of her mish mash of mix'n'match antiques, each piece discovered in disrepair, bought for a song and lovingly restored to a veneer of its original luster. It occurred to her with a start of surprise that Mike looked good standing there with his hands in his pockets amongst her antiques, adding his own brand of earthiness to the décor.

Good enough to eat. And she had put him in a position today where she had nearly lost him.

Biting her lip in guilt, Carolyn moved up behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist to press her face against his back.

"The bed's five paces forward and ten paces west through the second door on the left," she mumbled, rubbing her cheek against the rough material of his coat. She'd anticipated this for too long to wait much longer.

Mike turned slowly in her arms, crossed his hands over her back and pulled her hard into him. She gasped at the feel of his arousal against her as his head came down and he burrowed his face into her neck. "We haven't done it in a bed yet," he murmured, his warm breath sending shudders through her body.

Carolyn threaded her hands under his coat and smoothed her palms over the living heat of him.

"We don't need a bed," she murmured, seeking his mouth with her own.

Mike plundered her lips, his tongue diving to meet hers and her knees buckled, completely unwilling to hold her weight. He caught her and swept her into his arms, still kissing her, but instead of following her directions to the bedroom, he laid her out flat on the dining room table. Ripping the coat from his shoulders, his mouth curved into the lascivious grin she was coming to adore.

"Then let's not bother with one now," he crooned.

oOo

Alex watched Logan and Carolyn leave the squad room, not needing to be a detective to deduce what was on their agenda. Earlier, from the corner of her eye, she'd seen some up close and personal stuff between them, and Alex bet they'd decided to finish their 'work' in private.

She not only couldn't blame them; she envied them.

Transferring her gaze to Bobby, she wondered if anything had been achieved today. Worse than his ignoring Deakins' order to take himself and his shoulder wound home for rest, Bobby appeared to pretending nothing had changed in his relationship with her.

Alex acceded that Bobby wouldn't be likely to stand up and shout to the world that he had been forced to be intimate with his partner, but she couldn't understand why he chose to ignore her, saying nothing that wasn't related to their contribution to Nicole's disappearance. She knew he was frustrated that he had again been unsuccessful in bringing Wallace to justice. But Alex wished he wouldn't shut her out in the process.

"Let's call it a night, Bobby," she said, trying not to sound cajoling but feared she failed miserably.

Bobby kept his head down, scribbling notes across the paper in front of him with his left hand and waved dismissively at her with his right. "You go," he mumbled. "I wanna finish up here."

"Bobby," Alex said tartly, finally letting her annoyance show. "Your arm has to be killing you, but you insist–"

Bobby waved his hand again. "I'm fine. I'll be fine."

"No, you're not!" Alex saw the crease of pain between his eyes, and the way his jaw clamped over his words. She pushed back her chair and leaned over the desk to whisk the file from under his nose.

Bobby froze, refusing to look up, and gazed at the blank desk in front of him. "Alex, don't–"

"Don't what? Don't remind you that I exist?" The words poured out before she could stop them. "Don't remind you of what happened between us today?" Aware her voice was rising, Alex brought her frustration under control with difficulty. "Don't make you face that things are different between us now?" She leaned over further. "Because whether you like or not, they are."

Alex itched to take Bobby's chin in her hand and force his head up. "Look at me."

Watching his fingers twirl the pen in his hand, he kept his eyes lowered.

"Bobby, look at me!"

He looked, and had such despair and agony in his face, that Alex' heart shriveled in her chest.

"I can't go back–" he said, his voice hoarse with strain.

"I know. We can't," Alex croaked, devastated he regretted their union so much. "I wouldn't want to–"

Bobby shook his head. "I can't go back home. Tonight. Yet. She was there… with evil on her mind and in her heart. Because of me, she…hurt…you."

Alex' heart lurched. She had so misread him, it was criminal. How could she have been so blind?

"Then come home with me," she implored him. "You can sleep on the couch, the floor, whatever. You don't need to go back there 'til you're ready. But you gotta get some rest, Bobby. We both do." She straightened, her hands flat against her desk. "I won't go home and leave you here. You threw yourself in front of a bullet for me and now you want to work yourself into a grave. I won't let you do it, Bobby."

He half-stood in his seat and Alex put out her hands to take his in them, encouraging him to leave his demons behind and be with her.

"We'll do this together, Bobby," she promised.

oOo

Feeling awkward as she let Bobby into her apartment, Alex hurried ahead of him to clear the way. She knew what a compulsively organized person he was, something she would never be, and felt embarrassed that he should see her apartment like this. He'd seen it before, but somehow, now, with their new intimacy, it seemed more important that her home be more like he would like it. Something in which he would feel comfortable and want to stay...

He just stood there, in the middle of her living room, gazing around but Alex could tell he wasn't really seeing anything.

"Sit down, Bobby." She hurried to clear a magazine and a T.V. remote from the couch before he sat on them, then stood back to watch him settle in and collect the rest of her magazines before putting them at his feet. "Sorry about the mess…"

"It doesn't matter."

Alex wasn't sure how to reach him. "Your arm okay? Don't want a new bandage? You shouldn't have been using it so much back at the station." She bent forward to check the dressing on his left arm, but it looked dry still.

"No, thanks, it's fine."

"Coffee, then?"

A shaft of pain crossed his face at her suggestion and she could have bitten out her tongue. It was his exit to make coffee last night that began their twenty-four hour tour of torture by Nicole.

"I'm sorry." Now it was her turn to keep apologizing.

"Alex," Bobby said gently, holding up his right hand. "Come…come and sit down."

She hesitated, sat, but then didn't know what to do. Alex looked at her hands and felt if she didn't do something with them, she would go crazy. Bobby still had his hand out so she placed them in it and almost sighed when he started massaging them.

"If you didn't want me here…you should have left me at the station," he suggested.

"No." Alex hung her head. "That's not it at all. I want you here. I'm just not sure you want to be here."

He cupped her cheek gently. "When… have you known me to do something I don't want to do?"

Alex' eyes widened as she thought of what Nicole had put him through.

He nodded, as if reading her mind. "There was that, of course. I…I was forced into that, but…" His eyes softened with a warmth that made Alex catch her breath. "I wasn't exactly doing…something I didn't want to do. When presented with the, er, opportunity…I wanted to just keep on…doing it." His mouth broke into a self-conscious smile.

Alex' heart tripped. "And now?" She had to ask.

"You know as well as I…that it would be…unprofessional–"

"I know." Alex nodded sadly.

"–and that…personal relationships at work are, er, tricky at best and–"

"They are." She sighed with resignation.

"–if anyone got wind of it, there would be–"

"–hell to pay." Alex squirmed on the couch, sorry she forced him to put into words what she already knew.

"Well, we would be brought before Deakins and forced to, uh, account for ourselves and–"

"–he'd put a stop to it." She pulled her hands out of Bobby's comforting grasp.

"He'd probably transfer us. So…"

"This is it then." Alex threw up her chin and took a deep breath. "We stay professional. We stay good friends and a good working team and part company at the end of the day–"

"–or we be discreet." It was Bobby's turn to interrupt her.

Alex sat up straighter. "Huh?"

Bobby pulled her gently closer toward him. "I can be…discreet, Alex. Can you?"

He feathered her lips with his breath and Alex sagged against him with relief that he wasn't going to push her away and ask the impossible of her – to stop loving him, wanting to be with him, and losing herself in his arms.

She closed the infinitesimal gap that separated them and was enveloped in everything that was Bobby. Big, comforting, warm, and powerful. His lips were soft against hers, touching, lifting and pressing deeper, offering all that was him and asking her to give all that was her. Alex gave her answer by pressing herself against him, laying her head against his shoulder and wrapping her arms around his neck.

Bobby's hands slid under her shirt and up her ribcage, his palms cupping her breasts with reverence. His kiss extended into an erotic dance of tongues, his weight shifting so that she slid on top of his length as he stretched along the couch.

The power of Bobby became sensuous and toe-curling, building an ache within Alex that was greedy and demanding. He guided her hands beneath his pullover, sucking in his breath at her touch. Alex accepted his invitation, running her hands over his chest, and luxuriating in the silken feel of fine hairs on the heated velvet of his flesh. She felt him bunch her shirt in his hands and slowly draw the material up her back. Transferring her weight, Alex gave him access to pull it up over her head but she heard him grunt as if in pain. Fearing she was pressing on his bullet wound, she tried to shift her position.

"What's wrong?" he murmured against the hollow of her throat, sending new shivers of delight through her body as his lips moved lower. "Did I hurt you?"

"No, nothing," she groaned. "I'm just trying…to avoid your injury."

"It's only a small wound. Don't worry about it so much." She felt his teeth against her breast as if he were smiling. "I thought you might be…avoiding my, er, big gun."

Alex choked and pulled away sharply. "Bobby! Are you trying to be…funny?"

He groaned. "I didn't succeed, did I?"

"At a time like this," she said in horror, "no, you didn't succeed." She supported her weight on her arms and gazed down at him, his head pillowed by her favorite 'hug' cushion, which she would cradle to her chest while she watched television.

He looked crestfallen and she immediately forgave him. "Keep the humor for parties, Bobby."

"But I don't go to–"

"I'm sure you don't." She smiled down at him, anticipation making her eyelids heavy. "Now, enough talk. You were in the middle of something I believe."

"Mmmm, I was. In the middle of two very delectable…" He pulled her back down to him. "Ah, yes, here they are…"

oOo

Companion piece to come… Two Pair, King High … the boy's POV.