Three guesses what this one is about, eyy?
L
Lift
He watches her from his side of the steel box they are in, eyeing her carefully.
She had had a long day.
Not only has he witnessed every excruciated twist in the case they were working, but he could read it on her. The way her shoulders tensed, the way her brow was permanently frowning. He wanted to reach out to her.
She eyed him from her side of the metaphorical line she drew between them. She could feel his gaze on her, so intense it was damn near physical. She bit her lip, forcing her mind to the case. But his eyes were still there, caressing her with the touch he obviously wanted to use. So she gravitated towards him. She had had a long day.
That was her reasoning as she fell into him, her body crashing into his with a force neither of them expected. Her head met his chest and out of instinct his arms wrapped around her small body, holding her.
She would never admit as much, but she loved how small she felt in his arms.
How safe she felt there.
One of his hands stroked a pattern into the small of her back and the other was buried in her hair, lightly scratching right above the nape of her neck. He held her as she softened in his arms and her breathing settled to a slow pattern. He said nothing. She said nothing, either.
She pulled away long enough to tilt her head upwards, her lips meeting his.
At first he was hesitant, slow, but he got her meaning. "Mmm," he mumbled into the kiss, part of him unwilling to pull away and another forcing him to. "You're tired, Kate."
"Not that tired," she mumbled back, using the hand she tangled in his hair to pull his lips back to hers. Again he was murmuring into the kiss but didn't pull away. He knew denying her what she wanted would be futile, and he didn't have it in him to fight her.
She needed this. She didn't say as much, and she probably wouldn't, but it was true enough.
She needed this.
So instead he pulled her tighter, the feel of her irreplaceable, and pushed her against the elevator doors, gently, using a hand to balance himself above her and her arms snaked around his neck. The hand that was holding her hips against his stole away, only to push the emergency button on the elevator. The headlight turned off and the generator lights popped on, cloaking them in a soft, dim white light, and with that the elevator stopped its journey upwards.
His hand returned to her lower back, and he concentrated on her pulse point like it was his only goal in the world, the soft gasps she was making all he cared to hear.
She had had a long day.
Me and my elevator scenes…
I'm sorry, I can't help myself.
Also- the next chapter is making the rating rise, so you are warned.