Vegas in Red: I Won't Back Down5

John downed the Scotch. Felt it burn as it slid down his throat to his stomach. He licked his lips, watched as Moira did the same. She made a face, coughed. He smiled. Tapped the two shot glasses as they sat at the bar. It was a noisy, crowded mess of people and tables. Music was blaring. Laughter was loud, voices louder. The floor was sticky under their feet. John watched the glasses being refilled. "Better?" he asked.

Moira met his gaze. "Seriously? Worse now, thanks," she complained. Coughed again.

He chuckled. "Sorry." He downed the drink, smacked his lips together. Downed hers.

She sighed. "What now?" She almost had to shout to be heard.

"Another round."

"No! I meant the case."

"Oh." John smiled at the buxom barmaid who refilled both glasses. Downed his. Gestured at the other one.

She sighed. Downed it. Coughed and coughed. "God, that's disgusting!"

"What?" he exclaimed. "That's the elixir of life, baby!" he teased.

"The case?" she prompted, trying to be heard over the jingling of the slot machines.

"Oh." John downed the Scotch. "The case? Closed."

"So what's next?" she asked.

He shrugged. "You got me."

"Do I?"

He licked his lips. "Yeah . Let's go. You do need that other stiff one."

She smiled.

The buzz of the phone woke John. He stirred, shifting on the bed. He was tangled in lilac sheets with Moira on top of him. He smiled. He moved but felt constrained. He opened his eyes to see his arms above his head, handcuffed to the bedposts. He grinned, wondering when she had done that to him, and curious as to what she intended to do to him but the phone was still buzzing. Insistent. "Moira? Moira. Moira!" He jerked his body under hers, rousing her.

"Huh?" Moira woke. Sleepily eyed him, the way he was tied up in her bed. He flexed his muscles, making the chains rattle. Shifting deliciously under her. His hard, lean body hers for the taking. His body hair tickling her skin. She smiled. "John." She slid up his long, lean body to kiss him. Savoring the fullness of those perfect lips, that mouth.

"Phone," he instructed, enjoying her attentions. The kiss.

"Phone? Is that some kinky code word or…oh. Phone." She giggled. Glanced at it on the bedside table as it buzzed like an angry hornet. "I guess you can't get that, can you, sweetie?" She slid across, off him. Grabbed the phone. Slid back onto him and pressed the button. Held it to his ear.

"Yeah?" he asked, gaze on her messy spill of hair as it flowed along her naked skin. Her naked body pressed to his. Bare breasts partially concealed by her hair.

"Where the hell are you, Shep? I've been calling for hours! Hendricks wants you here ASAP!"

"Shit. Now? I'm all the way across town and chained to a—"

"Yes, now! ASAP, Shep!"

"Fine, Danville. Thanks for the heads up. On my way. Tell Hendricks I will be there in—"

Moira suddenly snatched the phone. "Hello? I'm afraid Detective Sheppard's being detained for extensive questioning and won't be able to leave for another hour."

"What? Who's this?" came the puzzled voice of the man on the other end.

"Don't worry. I'm a fully qualified biologist. I know what I'm doing." She ended the call. Slid to toss the phone back onto the table. Met John's glare with a saucy smile. A wink.

"Moira! I need to be in the—" John began, pissed, but actually the way she was moving on his body was quite delightful.

"Hush, sweetie!" She kissed him. "Let's just see how much interrogation you can take, shall we?" She nibbled along his inner arm. Kissed his jaw, his throat. She moved along his body, eliciting reactions despite his anger.

"Moira! I need to get to the office! Get that pert little ass off me and free me from these handcuffs, damn it! I need to oh fuck fuck!" he groaned as his anger growled into pleasure. She was sliding down his body, kissing and nibbling and biting. Running her nails sharply along his skin, sending shivers of anticipation along his cock. "Moira!"

"John, John, oh John…I will take you to task. Severely. Bad boy detective."

John tensed and groaned as she did just that.

Two hours later John hastily entered the precinct building. He had stopped at his place only long enough to shower, shave, and pull on some clean clothes. But that had not taken too much time. Not as much time as the sexual play had. He had been delayed by the teasing foreplay, then by the shuddering orgasms, then by Moira pretending to have lost the key to his handcuffs. Then by his having to spank her for her naughtiness, which naturally led to some very vigorous sex until he had finally dragged himself out of her house.

He tried to appear contrite but he couldn't keep the satisfied gleam from his eyes, the grin off his face. "Sorry," he said gruffly. "I had an interview across town."

"An interview?" questioned Hendricks, looking him up and down as if he could see the pleasure still thrumming along his body.

"That's not what she said," Danville commented. Laughter circled the room.

"Whatever. You're here now. You're heading the task force."

John blinked. "I, what? Huh? What task force?"

"You heard. You're heading the new task force. All of these violent deaths, these murders, the ones recently and in your past cases. I get the feeling they are all related in some way. Too many coincidences, and I don't believe in those."

"How could they be related?" John carefully asked.

"It's your job now to find out. Probe, probe deeper. See what you can find."

John was trying not to smile. He was wishing that Moira had heard those words. Oh, he had probed deep all right. Repeatedly. He couldn't explain this rush of feelings, emotion that went beyond the sex. He found himself wanted to send her roses. He found himself wanting to take her out to dinner at a real restaurant, not the diners they usually frequented. A real nice place, and he would even wear a pressed suit and a tie. He scowled, blaming these sentiments on the sex and nothing else. Nothing more. "What?" he snapped.

"Wow…whoever she is she has your head spinning," Danville observed.

"What? Of course not!" But he tried not to smirk as both heads were spinning, each in their own way. "Task force," he said, erasing all emotion, all erotica from his mind. "I don't see how all these cases are connected, sir. I mean there are different victims, different methods of murder, and different suspects."

"And if you include those older cases from before your accident it makes even less sense," Danville agreed.

John nodded. Remembering the fiction of his accident. The fiction of a drive-by shooting that covered up what really happened to him. Being killed by a Wraith with a gun, only to be brought back to life by another Wraith. God, he hated those things.

"Call it a hunch, Sheppard. See what you can find out. There's something going on here, and I intend to get to the bottom of it."

"Yes, sir," John agreed, wondering how on earth he was going to investigate without really investigating.