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The next few days leave little personal time for Shaw and Elizabeth. At night, there's just enough hours for them to sleep and then it's another case, another Number, back-to-back. But the team does pretty good staying on top of everything and somehow, still, nobody ends up dead. (Shaw thinks they're approaching some kind of record.) By the time the latest stream of SSNs from the Machine dries up, the team is relieved, but also proud of the number of deadly plots they've managed to foil recently with no loss of life...and minimal loss of kneecaps.
(The last guy really deserved it. Shaw's glad they have people like Finch and Elizabeth on their side to eradicate the revenge porn site the fucking asswagon had been running.)
Shaw wakes one morning to find a text message from Finch: No numbers today. Give my regards to Miss Ruben. I will see you tomorrow.
Shaw smiles, dresses, and heads for the Belleville loft. This time, Elizabeth is the one to call—she must've woken early. Shaw gives her the good news; Elizabeth happily promises to be over within the hour.
Elizabeth shows up later that morning. This time her knee socks are black and the hem of the pleated blue skirt is higher than usual, swirling two or three inches above her knees. Paired with a crisp white blouse, a knotted blue scarf that matches the skirt, and shiny leather shoes, Elizabeth looks far more like a schoolgirl than usual, and Shaw is really wondering if Elizabeth has figured her out and is messing with her on purpose.
"You look, uh, youthful," Shaw says as Elizabeth bends over to takes off her shoes. Her eyes flicker between Elizabeth's legs and ass.
"Thanks," Elizabeth says. There's a sly little grin on her face, blink and you miss it, as she straightens and stretches, shifting her hips so the skirt swirls. The motion draws Shaw's eyes downward.
(Definitely on purpose. Not that Shaw's complaining.)
Elizabeth takes Shaw by the shoulder, pulling her in for a kiss, a quick peck on the lips. "That's for saving my ass yesterday," she says. She leans in again, hungrier, and this time she doesn't bother giving a reason. Shaw's fingers entwine themselves in Elizabeth's frizzy hair.
They hold the embrace briefly after their lips part.
"What are you in the mood for?" Shaw asks gently.
"Hmm," Elizabeth says. She chews the inside of her lip. "I want to practice with the blindfold first. Then we can get to the fun stuff."
"Okay," Shaw says.
"I'll be up there in a bit," Elizabeth says, tilting her head towards the guest bathroom.
Shaw heads upstairs to the bedroom. As she crosses the room, her eyes fall on the record player. She hesitates mid-step and then kneels before the shelf, searching through the albums. She wants something relaxing, something jazzy, but not all saxophone and swank—Elizabeth has more of an eclectic taste in music, alt and funk and rock-n-roll, and Eddie Harris won't cut it.
Her fingers stop at Aja, and she pulls the album from the shelf. The record is pristine, not a scratch, either brand new or very lovingly cared for. Shaw places it in the record player and starts it playing. A minute later, Elizabeth comes in.
"What's that?" she asks curiously. Her brow furrows as she listens, but when the recognition hits, she smiles. "Oh! Steely Dan!"
"I think music will help," Shaw says, adjusting the volume knob so the song is audible in the background but no louder. Donald Fagan mumbles about alcoholic beverages over a funky bassline as Shaw says, "Another thing to ground you."
"Yeah, let's try it," Elizabeth says.
"You ready?"
"Uh-huh." She fidgets with her hands and clasps them tight in front of her.
Shaw takes the blindfold out of her pocket and twirls her finger. Elizabeth turns around, facing the wall. Gently, Shaw brushes the hair away from her face and pulls the silken fabric over her eyes. Elizabeth lets out a tiny gasp when the blindfold covers her eyes—she always does—but there's no further reaction as Shaw ties the ribbons in place. "Okay," Shaw says, taking a step back.
Elizabeth's breathing is calm, if not particularly deep—a major improvement over the first few times they've tried this. She still looks a little pale, but not enough for Shaw to be concerned.
"How's it feel?" Shaw asks.
"Fine," Elizabeth says. Shaw dislikes that response, because Elizabeth regularly and chronically abuses the term, adapting it to mean anything from "just got the best birthday present ever" to "nearly got blown up in an exploding warehouse". But her voice is relatively unperturbed, so Shaw lets it slide. Elizabeth tilts her head. Shaw gets the impression that she's listening closely to the song.
"I like the music," Elizabeth says. She starts swaying in time to the beat. "It's relaxing."
"That's good," Shaw says.
"And—" Elizabeth's brow furrows again, like she's concentrating. She moves her head. "It gives me a sense of direction." She points towards the record player. "The speakers are there. So that means the bed is..." She pauses, considers, and points again. "...there." She's not 100% accurate, but it's close enough. Elizabeth moves back and forth, taking small, deliberate steps. "I can tell where I am from the sound."
"The brain does weird stuff without the eyes," Shaw says. "It can fill in pieces of the room from the echos reflected back at you. Your sense of hearing is sharpened."
"So I'm a bat," Elizabeth says. She laughs. It's weak, brief, but it's also the first time Shaw has ever heard Elizabeth laugh while wearing the blindfold, so there's that. "I'm batwoman. John's got competition coming."
"Please don't start talking like you've got a sore throat," Shaw says as Elizabeth starts to wander. She holds her arms out in front of her and feels out each step carefully with her stocking-clad feet. It's slow, but Elizabeth makes it to the bed without incident. Her fingers brush against one of the posts.
"Right where I thought it'd be," she says, sounding pleased. She turns around quickly, leaving Shaw to scoot backwards out of the way of her arms.
"Not bad," Shaw says. She shifts a few feet to the side. "Try a moving target."
Elizabeth obliges. When her outstretched fingers get within a few inches, Shaw moves again. "Oops," she says. "Over here."
Huffing, Elizabeth re-orients herself and moves towards Shaw.
"You're doing good," Shaw says. She moves in an arc and Elizabeth keeps turning to face her, following her voice. "Still feeling all right?"
"Yeah," Elizabeth says. "Look out, I'mma catch yooww!"
Elizabeth's foot meets the rug and the rug wins. Shaw rushes forward to catch Elizabeth by the wrists before she falls. The end result is Elizabeth's face pressed up against Shaw's breasts, a situation which neither of them mind very much.
Somehow, the blindfold is still in place.
"Hmm," Elizabeth mumbles into Shaw's chest. "I fell into something soft." Shaw helps her stand and releases her wrists, but Elizabeth doesn't move away—no, she moves closer. Her hands reach out and find Shaw's shoulders. One hand goes up, tracing along Shaw's smooth neck until her trembling fingers rest lightly against Shaw's cheek. The other hand moves downward, feeling its way over Shaw's breast and down her ribs until it reaches her hips. "Something very...Shaw-shaped."
"And what shape is a Shaw?" She stands still, allowing Elizabeth's hands to explore her profile. Elizabeth's hands are very warm, and Shaw can feel the heat from Elizabeth's body radiating through her thin tank top.
"Is sexy a shape?" Elizabeth asks innocently as one hand dips down towards Shaw's ass. The other explores her back.
Shaw leans forward to whisper into Elizabeth's ear. "You bet it is," she says, and Elizabeth hums contentedly.
"Let's get to the bed," Shaw says. "I'll guide you."
Together, they make their way slowly across the room. Halfway there, Elizabeth finds the button on Shaw's jeans and unfastens it. Shaw helps Elizabeth up onto the bed, shimmies out of the pants, and crawls up after her. Elizabeth ends up sprawled out luxuriously on her back, surrounded by fluffy pillows and forest green sheets.
"You know," Shaw says, "your hearing isn't the only sense that's amplified when you're blindfolded." Her hand creeps under Elizabeth's skirt. Elizabeth starts and gasps at the unexpected touch. "Every other sense gets turned up." She runs a finger lightly upward, tracing delicately along the inside of her leg. "Especially your sense of touch." Shaw lets her hand drift just a little too far north, and Elizabeth mumbles softly.
"You good?" Shaw asks.
"Yeah." Elizabeth says. Her voice is quiet but confident. "Yeah, I'm good."
Shaw begins to undress Elizabeth, like unwrapping a precious gift. She starts with the scarf, unknotting it and pulling it carefully from behind Elizabeth's head before tossing it aside. Next comes the blouse. Shaw unfastens the top button, revealing a patch of pale, freckled skin that's just begging to be kissed. Shaw obliges, suckling and teasing the skin between her teeth, and then continues to unfasten the buttons, one at a time, punctuating each one with kisses on Elizabeth's neck, chest, and shoulder. When she gets to the last button, she helps Elizabeth wriggle out of the garment and tosses it to the floor. Elizabeth's bra soon follows, then her skirt, and finally, Shaw slowly divests Elizabeth of her panties.
She leaves the socks.
"Uh, you're forgetting something," Elizabeth says when she doesn't feel Shaw's hands on her legs. She tries sitting up, but Shaw pushes her firmly back down to the bed.
"Nope," Shaw says. "I'm not."
"I'm pretty sure you have a fetish," Elizabeth says, laughing.
"Only one of us is qualified to diagnose that, and she vehemently protests."
"I'm sure sure she doaah!" Her reply turns into a moan as Shaw's hands find Elizabeth's breasts, her thumbs teasing the pebbled nipples.
"Good little schoolgirls don't talk back," Shaw says, grinning. "They listen to the teacher and do whatever the teacher says."
"So you're the teacher?" Elizabeth says.
Shaw gives her a playful little swat on the ass. Elizabeth squeaks in surprise.
"Quiet, little girl," Shaw says, rubbing the spot where her hand made contact. "Teacher is talking."
Elizabeth snickers but keeps her mouth shut.
"That's better," Shaw says. "Now, you've been an awfully good girl the past few days." Shaw runs her hands over Elizabeth's stomach. "Professor Shaw's gonna give you a grade to match."
Shaw takes her time; there's no pressure. Finch has practically guaranteed that the entire day is theirs, and Shaw is going to take advantage of that. Her hands roam. She's intimately familiar with every landmark of Elizabeth's body, of course; everything from the cluster of freckles on the base of Elizabeth's neck to the uneven birthmark on her inner thigh, from the long, thin scar on the outside of her right leg to the defiant streak of bright ginger through her bush. But familiarity does little to reduce the excitement of rediscovery. Shaw patiently traces her way between the landmarks, leaving a trail of kisses and nibbles in her wake as she gradually spirals in towards Elizabeth's nethers.
By the time Shaw's fingers finally brush against Elizabeth's pussy, they come away damp.
"Excited, are we?" Shaw says. Her fingers travel up and down Elizabeth's lips before parting them. "What a good little schoolgirl. So eager to learn."
"That's 'cause I have such a sexy teacher," Elizabeth says breathlessly. She makes a strangled grunt of pleasure as Shaw's fingers dance.
"You've got the hots for your teacher?" Shaw asks.
"You bet," Elizabeth says.
"Dirty little girl," Shaw says approvingly. Her fingers quicken, moving in little circles, and Elizabeth cants her hips towards Shaw's touch. "Tell your teacher how hot she is."
(Shaw hopes the demand will jump-start Elizabeth's imagination, keeping her mind off the darkness. It has nothing to do with vanity or anything of the sort. Honestly.)
"She's sexy," Elizabeth breathes. "She's like a panther, all strong and muscular—oaah!" She gasps as Shaw's free hand migrates up to Elizabeth's breasts to play with her nipples. "S-strong and s-sleek, and s-she's got an awesome ass—"
"Damn straight," Shaw says.
"—and—and she's really smart and kinda bossy, like, she's got this look that makes people hnnnnng more, more please—"
(Shaw teases one of her fingers inside Elizabeth.)
"You like the bossy?" Shaw says, wiggling her finger. "Does it turn you on?"
"Yes," Elizabeth breathes. "Mmmm, yes—"
"You like it when I'm in control?"
"Hnnnng, yes, please—"
"Please what?" Shaw says. "Tell your teacher what you want."
"I want you to fuck me," Elizabeth gasps.
"I didn't hear that," Shaw says.
"I need you to fuck me! Please, Shaw—"
"Professor Shaw."
"Please, Professor Shaw," Elizabeth begs. "Please fuck me!"
"I can do that," Shaw says. She removes her finger, eliciting a disappointed moan from Elizabeth. "You just stay right here for a moment."
She crawls over to the nightstand and pulls open the middle drawer. She does it slowly, giving Elizabeth plenty of time to hear it sliding open, before she rummages around inside.
"Hmm," she says. "Maybe we should use—no, not that one. What if we—nah—" She spots the item she's looking for immediately, but she stalls for a few seconds more, letting Elizabeth wonder which toy she's chosen, before pulling out one of Elizabeth's favorite vibrators: a cordless vibrating wand. It's slightly smaller than its mains-powered ancestors, easier to grip, but its size belies its power. Shaw clicks the wand on low. Elizabeth stills when she hears the quiet buzz and a smile begins to spread across her face. Shaw waves the wand back and forth through the air, teasingly, knowing that Elizabeth is tracking it by its sound.
"Still doing alright?" Shaw says. Elizabeth nods. "Yes, Professor Shaw," she says.
"I think you're doing great," Shaw says. "You're being a very brave girl. I think you deserve a toy for that."
Shaw brushes the head of the wand against Elizabeth's thigh. Elizabeth gasps, startled by the unexpected contact. Shaw does it again, edging the wand closer and closer to Elizabeth's pussy, and the third time she touches the purring device between Elizabeth's legs, drawing it upward. Elizabeth's entire body jerks, but she moans and spreads her legs further, eager for more. Shaw does it again, moving the wand in tight circles for a little longer before she takes it away a second time, leaving Elizabeth to groan and clench her fists in frustration.
Shaw teases Elizabeth with the wand, keeping it in contact with her body for only a few seconds at a time before withdrawing it. She keeps the interval random, unpredictable; denied the use of her eyes, Elizabeth has no way of telling when Shaw is about to touch her with the vibrator again, and during each pause, Elizabeth's frame is etched with anticipation.
"Please," Elizabeth begs. She struggles to raise her hips, hoping to meet a toy that just isn't there anymore. "Longer!"
"You want longer?" Shaw asks. "Sure, I guess can give you longer." She clicks the switch on the vibrator and the buzzing gets louder. Elizabeth cries out, her mouth agape, when Shaw presses the vibrator against her clit.
"Oh god," she gasps. "Oh fuck—"
"Good schoolgirls get rewarded," Shaw purrs. With her free hand, she easily slides two fingers inside Elizabeth, whose moans and gasps are becoming more guttural by the second.
"Fuck—god, yes, fucknnnnggggg—"
Shaw is a master. (That's not bragging or anything. It's just a fact.) She knows the best ways to pleasure, the best places to apply pressure, to rub and kneed and bite and lick. She knows how to keep someone on edge for hours (much to Elizabeth's occasional consternation), and she knows how to prolong the pleasure until it's almost too much to bear. Elizabeth's body is a familiar, well-played instrument to Shaw; she knows what Elizabeth wants, what gets her going, and she knows exactly how to give it to her. Shaw's fingers move rapidly, hitting all the right spots, and when combined with the steady thrum of the vibrator, it doesn't take long for Elizabeth to get the release she craves.
Elizabeth's climax is heralded by a long, wavering moan that cuts off abruptly. Her body arches off the bed. She holds that position, every muscle quivering, her body wrought with tension, until she collapses. Shaw keeps the vibrator pressed firmly against Elizabeth's body the entire time and doesn't let up with her fingers. Soon, Elizabeth is writhing.
"Uh-uh," Shaw says, withdrawing her fingers and grabbing Elizabeth's thigh to keep her from rolling away from the vibrator. "You're not through yet."
Elizabeth's response is a shaky moan. Her fists are clenched around wads of sheets and she continues to squirm, gasping out nonsensical syllables the entire time.
"God—!" Shaw makes out. "Fffffuugggh more!"
Shaw obliges, kicking the speed of the vibrator up a notch.
It's very fortunate that there's no neighbors around.
Shaw makes Elizabeth come again, and again, and then one more time for good measure before she clicks off the wand and sets it aside. It takes a minute or two, but Elizabeth's gasps and moans gradually taper off and she relaxes; her hands unclench the sheets and the tension drains from her body. Shaw rubs her thighs and says, "How are you doing?"
"Over the moon," Elizabeth gasps. "That was great."
"I'm gonna take off the blindfold now," Shaw says. She crawls up and carefully peels away the mask, dropping it onto the pillow. Elizabeth blinks and winces at the light. Her pupils are huge.
"Welcome back," Shaw says.
Elizabeth stares at her.
"Who are you?" she says, and for a second, Shaw is wondering what the hell is going on, but then she sees the grin pulling at the corners of Elizabeth's mouth as she tries and fails to keep a straight face.
"Nice try," Shaw says, sticking out her tongue.
"Darn, I really thought I had a Spock face that time."
Shaw snorts and crawls off the bed. "I'll be right back," she says. "I'll get us some water." She heads to the bathroom and returns with two paper cups. Elizabeth downs her drink in two gulps and lays back against the sheets, her body relaxed and languid. Shaw joins her.
"How was the blindfold?" she asks.
"It was fun," Elizabeth says. "After awhile, I didn't even realize I was blindfolded."
"I was being kinda distracting," Shaw points out. Elizabeth chuckles.
They fall silent and Shaw notices just how quiet the room is.
"The record stopped," she realizes.
"I didn't even notice it was playing," Elizabeth says.
"Hang on, I'll flip it." Shaw sits up, but a hand clamps down on her shoulder and yanks her back down to the sheets.
"—what—"
Elizabeth moves fast; somehow, she ends up on top of Shaw, straddling her chest and pinning her down to the bed. Shaw knows from experience that Elizabeth is next to impossible to dislodge from that position—not that she tries very hard.
"I'll get the record," Elizabeth says. She grins, drops the blindfold on Shaw's chest, and says, "It's your turn now. I expect it to be on your face by the time I get back."
"The student has become the teacher, eh?" Shaw says as Elizabeth jumps off the bed. "I can live with that." Which is an understatement, because one of the few things that turns her on more than Elizabeth in knee socks or Elizabeth tied up—or better yet, Elizabeth in knee socks and tied up—is Elizabeth firmly in control.
Shaw doesn't see it very often, but Elizabeth in full-on Domme mode is hot.
"No backtalk," Elizabeth says sternly over her shoulder. She's doing that thing where she arches one eyebrow and it ignites a spark of thrill between Shaw's legs. Elizabeth's face is the last thing Shaw sees before she ties the blindfold around her own head and lays back in bed to await her fate.
She hears the rattle of buckles, and she smiles.
"Well, Miss Shaw," Elizabeth says from somewhere to Shaw's left. (Shaw digs the way she rolls the double-s into a z, kinda like Finch does, but sexy.) Elizabeth tsks. "Your grades have been absolutely abysmal this quarter. What do you have to say for yourself...?"
She doesn't have much to say at all.
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Two days later, late at night, a blown substation transformer cuts power to the office building where they're searching for their latest Number
Elizabeth yelps and moves closer to Shaw as the office lights overhead flicker and die, leaving only a few scattered emergency lights to illuminate the cubicles.
"Woah, hey," Shaw says, grabbing Elizabeth's shoulder with one hand, the other still clenched around the grip of her pistol. "Hang in there. You okay?"
Elizabeth shudders, takes a deep breath, and says, "Yeah. Yeah, I got this." She reaches into her skirt pocket and pulls out a compact flashlight. She clicks it on and gives Shaw a tight smile. "I'm fine."
"Atta girl," Shaw says, and they head on into the darkness.
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A/N Well, there we go, I finally finished it! The chapter didn't go in the direction I was intending it to go but I think it turned out okay anyway. Next up, Feature Creep!