Disclaimer: Nope, Rookie Blue definitely does not belong to me.
A/N: Wow, it's been too long. But I was away Friday afternoon until late Monday night, and I've been working on a multi-chapter ficlet that I'll get up ASAP.
This is just a quickie. It's the first Chris/Gail fic! Woohoo ;). I don't know why, but after the initial unsureness of the pairing, I've found that I like it quite a bit. (Nowhere near as much as Andy/Sam, but ... what could top that?)
This follows episode 6, 'Bullet Proof'.
[P.S. I've decided that I like 'Chrail' as a couple name. I just hope it sticks! ;)]
Oh, and in this one: 'you' refers to Gail.
Hope you like!
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You've never been the type to play it safe.
You're always up for adventure and mystery, and aren't hesitant to march headfirst into the unknown.
And this situation is not the unknown; at least, not really. You've had sex before; in serious relationships (that never ended well), and out of them. Heck, it's not even your first time doing it in the back of a car.
But, for some reason – doing this now, with Chris – it feels more unknown than almost anything you've ever experienced before. For some reason, despite your strong inclination to not worry about whether you play it safe, you can't help an inkling of thought in the back of your mind telling you that this should end here and now before it goes any farther and turns into something either of you might regret.
Your brain vehemently screams 'STOP', while your heart and body are insistently exclaiming 'YES, YES, YES'.
But even with his hands entwined in your hair and his lips pressed against yours, your brain wins out over the rest; you turn your head away from him and take a deep breath. But the break is more than just for oxygen, and Chris can tell.
"What's wrong," he gently murmurs; his voice is husky and quiet and his breath is invading your senses. He shifts slightly, away from you, and you distinctly feel his sudden lack of proximity (though it does help to clear your thoughts.)
"Should we be doing this?" you ask him, your voice much more unsure than you'd like it to be. Everything about this situation makes you feel vulnerable, and you hate feeling vulnerable. When you look at him, his brow is scrunched up – possibly in confusion. You continue, "I mean, what about Denise?"
She's just occurred to you; Chris' long-distance, yet long-term girlfriend. She's gone back home now, but – come to think of it – you don't even know if he ended up proposing to her. You're a lot of things, but you won't be the other woman; especially if he's engaged.
The confused look disappears only to be replaced by a small smile, and he shifts closer to you once again before lightly pecking your lips. He keeps his face close to yours as he replies, his breath once again enticing you and threatening to distract you. "We talked, I told her I wasn't ready for marriage, and she told me never to call her again. So, I'm pretty sure we're over."
You look deep into his glowing, green eyes before gripping the back of his head and pulling his lips back down to yours.
Maybe it's wrong … maybe things aren't supposed to be going this fast. You don't know what you feel for him, or if he even feels anything meaningful for you at all …
(But since when has that mattered to you in a situation like this, anyways?)
All you know is that when he kissed you earlier, it was right. You don't know the how or the why; but you couldn't ever truthfully describe it as wrong, regardless of the reasoning.
And now, as he helps rid you of your shirt (and you him), you know that this is what you want.
The honest curiosity on his face when he asked you why you're so mean was oddly endearing; and the fact that your abrasive attitude hasn't deterred him is definitely on the plus side. He's caring, and sweet, and so much more pure than you can ever hope to be. There are so many things about him that you wish you could be yourself.
He's just so – innocent; (even if he isn't really).
And although you've never been with anyone like him before … you want him.
You're fairly certain that you still will in the morning …
(At least, you sure hope you do.)
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