Walking back into the station Monday evening, Meg looked at her ringing phone. "Sorry, I need to take this."
"Judging from that smile, it's a guy!" her partner teased, giving her a shove.
Meg couldn't hide her smile as she shrugged her shoulders and walked away. "Hi."
"Hey. Thought I'd call and see how you were doin' today." Dean's voice had a slightly unsure tone to it as if now that he had her on the phone he wasn't sure that calling was the right thing to do. "I know you said you had to work tonight…"
"Yeah, I'm still here. 24 on 48 off…"
"Really? What exactly do you do? 'Cause that's not the schedule I remember you having."
Meg kicked her work boots at the concrete floor. "It's not the one I used to have. I made a few changes in my life, remember? The 'new and improved' me."
Dean grumbled, "Just don't make too many changes. I like you. Old, new, and everything in between. You are just awesome."
Meg chuckled. "And that's why I lo… like being around you so much. You are a balm on my aching heart. Keep it up and I might not let… I might let you hang around for a while." She face-palmed and was glad he couldn't see the fuchsia blush that colored her face and neck.
"Oh, I'm not going anywhere." he promised.
Tones screeched through the station. "Gotta go. See ya!" Meg said as she hung up and dropped her phone in her pocket. She sprinted for her seat in the ambulance before the driver reached his door. "Let's roll!"
Meg really wasn't surprised when she pulled into her driveway on Tuesday to see that Dean's truck was already there. "I guess he thinks I have some 'splainin' to do." she said to herself in her best Lucille Ball impression. She shook her head as she grabbed her gear-bag from the back of the truck and headed inside.
Dean met her at the garage door with a carry-out cup. "Hot tea." he said as he reached for the bag. She just looked up at him. "What? You don't like coffee."
"I'm amazed you remember that from a conversation we had how many years ago? It wasn't yesterday."
Dean held her chin between his index finger and thumb. "There's not much about you that I don't remember. It's important to me. You're important to me. Let's get you inside. You look exhausted."
"Gee thanks, dear." Meg laughed, walking past him and shaking her keys. She unlocked the door and stepped inside. Once Dean was in, she shut the door and knelt to unlace the tops of her work boots.
"So you are an EMT with…"
Meg looked up from the floor. "The short version – I wanted to completely revamp my life. I didn't want to have anything left that he had touched; tainted. I left this town and this fire department. I left all of my, our, his, our, um, friends that we knew. I was a cleared EMT provider with excellent references willing to start immediately. They jumped at the chance to hire me. I bust my tail over there. I don't complain and I don't make waves. I also don't want to jump to the 'truck, so they love me. I like what I am doing." She stuck her boots in the bin by the door and stood. "I was going to tell you tonight. We'd talked about other things on Sunday."
Dean backed Meg against the wall. "It's fine. I should have realized that you'd changed jobs when you said you were working Monday night. And we haven't talked about mine yet, not that it's exciting or anything. I'm just wondering when you are coming back to the fire department." He nuzzled his face against her neck as he slid his hands under her thighs.
"Um, I haven't decided yet. That will mean… facing… dealing with… and I don't want to… yet."
He stepped closer, wrapping her legs around his waist. "I am picturing us running out the door together on a call. Me jumping on the rescue and you onto the ambo; me grabbing the Hurst tool and popping open a mangled car door and you right there with the stretcher and collar to treat the patient. Teamwork at its finest."
Meg's arms wound around his shoulders. "Quite the vivid imagination you have there, sir."
Letting his whiskers graze her lips as he spoke, Dean muttered, "You truly have no idea." Her thighs clenched involuntarily. With his body sandwiched between them, this movement was impossible for him to miss. "Meg…" He reached up and grabbed her hands, capturing them in one of his and pinning them to the wall over her head. His other hand cradled the base of her skull as he took possession of her mouth, capturing her lips with bruising force. His hips pressed against hers, keeping her locked in place against the wall. As quickly as it started, he released her. His head dropped to her shoulder as he panted and his hands held her hips in place so she didn't fall. "Meg, I… No force… I didn't mean…"
She flexed her legs to pull him back in contact as she caressed his jaw with her thumbs. "It's nice to feel desired." she whispered. "Never thought my BDU's were sexy."
Dean pulled back and pressed into the juncture of her hips once more, knowing she could feel his arousal. "Everything you wear is sexy. And all I've been able to think about is taking it… anything… off of you. The hell with slow. I know I said friends. Meg…" She wriggled against him, untucking her shirt from her pants. "What are you…?" Keeping her legs locked around his waist, she lightly pushed away on his chest so she had room to pull her shirt over her head without punching him in the face. "Oh… My…" He lifted her higher and buried his face in the valley of her breasts. She felt the straps on her bra sliding down and the fasteners on the back given way as he pulled the garment from her body. She was moving through the air and then she was lying on the kitchen table with Dean standing between her legs, pressing her breasts together. "Perfect. So perfect." he whispered before bending over to capture one peak in his mouth. He suckled hard, rewarded by an immediate squeal from his woman. He rotated between the two, listening to her moans and pants. When she began to beg, he knew there was no going back. He reached for her belt and swore. "Not happening on a table…" he grumbled, wrapping her legs around his waist once more. She grabbed his shirttails and began pulling on them. "Give me a minute. We'll get to the bedr…" Meg bit his ear and yanked his shirt up to his armpit. "Alright, alright." He put her down long enough to toss off his shirt before picking her back up and continuing his trek across the living room. Meg teased his nipple and toyed with his light chest hair before plunging her hand south, into his pants. "Meg!" He stumbled on the stairs as her hand surrounded his length. Up and down, up and down. "Stop!" She bit her bottom lip and shook her head. Dean carefully pulled her hand free and tossed her over his shoulder in a fireman's carry, his hand clutching her backside none too lightly. He reached the bedroom, knowing that Meg said she had painted the one she slept in, and strode inside. He kicked off his shoes and one-handed the fastener on his pants. Letting Meg slide down his chest, he put one finger on her nose. "Stay." he muttered. Taking two steps back, he shucked his jeans and socks in record time, never taking his eyes from her. He grabbed her waistband and tore at the fasteners, pulling and tugging the fabric away from her body. As soon as she was bare, Meg began to feel self-conscious. Dean's face was level with her not-so-flat belly and her hardly-model-shaped thighs. Before she could begin to question what he thought, his warm wet tongue was making a path all around her skin. Her hands trembled when they touched his head and she whimpered his name. "Oh, Meg… Meg…" He followed her down onto the bed, covering her as they both reached the mattress. Her thighs parted, he nestled between them like he'd always been there. And then she whimpered his name again. Dean couldn't hold off any longer. When he thrust, Meg arched into him and they were moving as one. There was no separation, no disconnect. Their forward and backward connection was in perfect unison, keeping them connected as one until they exploded, her head thrown back in a scream of ecstasy that he'd never imagined he'd see up close and personal and then he felt himself come from the bottom of his soul into her body. All he could do was let it happen - his back bowed, his own head bent back as he bellowed her name.
Meg's eyes began to close as she felt Dean's head drop to her chest. She wrapped her arms around him and whispered, "So, friends?"
His whiskers brushed against her breast as he replied, "Smartass. Fine. We're bosom buddies."
