"Little Diversions"
Author: Medie
E-mail: [email protected]
Rating: PG
Keywords: D/M, romance, humor
Pairing: Miranda/Declan
Series: part of the "A Day Off" Trilogy
Spoilers: none
Disclaimers: Not mine. Not even close.
Summary: Declan's feeling devious.
"Little Diversions"
by M
Thunk! Thunk! Thunk!
Miranda's fingers stilled on the keys and she looked up - staring off into
the air as she waited.
Thunk! Thunk! Thunk!
"Declan."
Looking over at the woman sitting at his desk, Declan Dunn was the picture
of innocence which was belied only by the rubber ball in one hand. "What?"
"Stop that."
"Stop what?"
"Stop bouncing that ball off the ceiling." Her gaze landed on his face and,
though only he could see it, softened - a sparkle entering her eyes. "It's
distracting."
Pointing at the laptop, she reined in the smile at the mischievous look in
his eyes. "Paper!"
Declan grinned impishly. "No, Miranda, *that* is a laptop."
Rolling her eyes, she gestured at the laptop again. "Declan, I have a paper
to finish, I'm almost done, I need quiet!"
"Then quiet you shall have!" He proclaimed, tossing the ball aside and
cradling his head in his interlaced hands. "I'm not sayin' another word
until you say you're done."
"Thank you." Miranda flashed a small smile and lowered her gaze to the
laptop screen as she began to type once more.
Declan held to his word as best he could. Several moments passed where the
only sounds in the office consisted of Miranda's typing and their breathing
then Declan shifted on the couch, sighing.
The slim woman sitting at the desk glanced up but the man before her
appeared to be fast asleep.
Though suspicious, she shrugged it off and returned to her work. It was a
subject that required fairly focused concentration and that was something
Miranda was a master at. A few seconds was all it took for her to become
completely absorbed in her work.
It was the moment Declan was waiting for. Knowing Miranda like he did, he'd
been expecting it. He also knew she had plenty of time to finish that paper
but, in typical Miranda-fashion, was intent on doing it *now*. And, in
typical Declan-fashion, he was intent on teaching her to have a little fun.
It was how the dynamic of their relationship, the friendship and the
romance, worked. Miranda was the one who kept him grounded and he was the
one who taught her how to dream. Or as Miranda succinctly put it, she was
the realist and he was the dreamer.
After easing himself slowly off the couch, Declan inched around behind her
and, for a few moments, he just stood behind her: watching her work. He
liked moments like these . . . when he got the chance to watch Miranda being
Miranda. Her mind so focused on her work, he could almost see the ideas
moving fluidly through that quicksilver mind of hers.
Sometimes, it amazed him to watch her in action. Others it scared him. The
only thing Declan was sure of was that he'd definitely gotten on the Big
Kahuna's good side to deserve Miranda in his life.
Smiling, he reached out to lightly run his fingers down over her glossy dark
hair.
Beautiful . . .
"Declan . . . " Miranda lifted the aforementioned head at the touch. She'd
been right. He was up to something. Carefully she hid a smile as she
resigned herself to the fact the paper was going to have to wait - though
she wasn't going to make it easy on him. It was much too much fun to make
him suffer.
"Yes . . . " He replied in the same tone she'd used, deliberately drawing
out the one word response.
"What are you doing?"
"Touching your hair." A wicked glint appeared in his eyes.
"Why are you touching my hair?"
"Because I like it." Reaching out, he stroked his fingertips over the silky
strands again. "Feels nice, soft."
"Thank you." Her voice quiet, suffused with warmth brought from both the
compliment and his proximity. "But . . . "
"I know, I know." With an amiable chuckle, the anthropologist turned to
browse through his books while she returned to the computer.
Five minutes hadn't passed before he was leaning over her shoulder,
apparently interested in her paper.
Enjoying the little game, Miranda kept her gaze on the screen and the steady
rhythm of her fingers didn't slack. If he wanted to distract her, Declan was
going to have to work at it.
Inhaling the faint scent of her perfume, he rested his chin against her
shoulder. "It looks good."
"Mmmhmmm . . . "
"I'm not bothering you, am I?"
"Uh uh."
"Good."
And so he remained, leaning over her shoulder, for a while until, to her
amused surprise, Miranda felt a hand slide across the smooth material of her
shirt, coming to stop on her midsection.
"Declan . . . "
"Yes, Miranda?"
"What are you doing?"
"Watching you type."
She looked meaningfully at the hand on her midsection then back at him. "Ok,
then what is your hand doing?"
"It's just there." Declan replied with a grin.
"Uh huh."
At her look, he put on an expression of pure innocence. "What? It is!"
"Behave, Declan." She instructed with a 'stern' look.
"I'm behaving!" he protested, mischief lurking in his eyes.
"No," A shake of her head accompanied her words. "You're deliberately trying
to distract me." She smiled despite the accusation. "Admit it."
"Maybe . . . " He singsonged, rocking on his heels slightly, feeling
decidedly mischievous.
She slanted a glance over her shoulder at him. "Yes."
He grinned. "You need to relax Miranda; take a day off and have some fun.
Just cut loose."
"Declan," She was the epitome of patience. "I need to finish my paper."
The anthropologist shook his head and reached down to pull her to her feet.
"No, you need to have *fun*, with me." She didn't resist as he tugged her
closer, molding her slim curves against his more solid, stockier form. "We'
ve been too busy lately . . . I miss you." Putting on his best 'pleading
little boy' face, he wheedled. "Please . . . "
She was waving, he could see the indecision on her face, it wouldn't take
much more.
Leaning forward, he skimmed his lips along her cheek and felt her lashes
brush against his as she closed her eyes, her breath quickening.
"Declan . . . " Her voice was thick and he smiled in triumph. He had her.
"One day, Miranda, just cut loose for one day . . . ok?"
"Ok." She echoed absently, resting her head against his, thoroughly
befuddled by his actions.
"Good." Taking her by the hand, he grabbed their jackets. "Let's go . . . "
Before she could react, he tugged her out the door.
TBC part 2
Author: Medie
E-mail: [email protected]
Rating: PG
Keywords: D/M, romance, humor
Pairing: Miranda/Declan
Series: part of the "A Day Off" Trilogy
Spoilers: none
Disclaimers: Not mine. Not even close.
Summary: Declan's feeling devious.
"Little Diversions"
by M
Thunk! Thunk! Thunk!
Miranda's fingers stilled on the keys and she looked up - staring off into
the air as she waited.
Thunk! Thunk! Thunk!
"Declan."
Looking over at the woman sitting at his desk, Declan Dunn was the picture
of innocence which was belied only by the rubber ball in one hand. "What?"
"Stop that."
"Stop what?"
"Stop bouncing that ball off the ceiling." Her gaze landed on his face and,
though only he could see it, softened - a sparkle entering her eyes. "It's
distracting."
Pointing at the laptop, she reined in the smile at the mischievous look in
his eyes. "Paper!"
Declan grinned impishly. "No, Miranda, *that* is a laptop."
Rolling her eyes, she gestured at the laptop again. "Declan, I have a paper
to finish, I'm almost done, I need quiet!"
"Then quiet you shall have!" He proclaimed, tossing the ball aside and
cradling his head in his interlaced hands. "I'm not sayin' another word
until you say you're done."
"Thank you." Miranda flashed a small smile and lowered her gaze to the
laptop screen as she began to type once more.
Declan held to his word as best he could. Several moments passed where the
only sounds in the office consisted of Miranda's typing and their breathing
then Declan shifted on the couch, sighing.
The slim woman sitting at the desk glanced up but the man before her
appeared to be fast asleep.
Though suspicious, she shrugged it off and returned to her work. It was a
subject that required fairly focused concentration and that was something
Miranda was a master at. A few seconds was all it took for her to become
completely absorbed in her work.
It was the moment Declan was waiting for. Knowing Miranda like he did, he'd
been expecting it. He also knew she had plenty of time to finish that paper
but, in typical Miranda-fashion, was intent on doing it *now*. And, in
typical Declan-fashion, he was intent on teaching her to have a little fun.
It was how the dynamic of their relationship, the friendship and the
romance, worked. Miranda was the one who kept him grounded and he was the
one who taught her how to dream. Or as Miranda succinctly put it, she was
the realist and he was the dreamer.
After easing himself slowly off the couch, Declan inched around behind her
and, for a few moments, he just stood behind her: watching her work. He
liked moments like these . . . when he got the chance to watch Miranda being
Miranda. Her mind so focused on her work, he could almost see the ideas
moving fluidly through that quicksilver mind of hers.
Sometimes, it amazed him to watch her in action. Others it scared him. The
only thing Declan was sure of was that he'd definitely gotten on the Big
Kahuna's good side to deserve Miranda in his life.
Smiling, he reached out to lightly run his fingers down over her glossy dark
hair.
Beautiful . . .
"Declan . . . " Miranda lifted the aforementioned head at the touch. She'd
been right. He was up to something. Carefully she hid a smile as she
resigned herself to the fact the paper was going to have to wait - though
she wasn't going to make it easy on him. It was much too much fun to make
him suffer.
"Yes . . . " He replied in the same tone she'd used, deliberately drawing
out the one word response.
"What are you doing?"
"Touching your hair." A wicked glint appeared in his eyes.
"Why are you touching my hair?"
"Because I like it." Reaching out, he stroked his fingertips over the silky
strands again. "Feels nice, soft."
"Thank you." Her voice quiet, suffused with warmth brought from both the
compliment and his proximity. "But . . . "
"I know, I know." With an amiable chuckle, the anthropologist turned to
browse through his books while she returned to the computer.
Five minutes hadn't passed before he was leaning over her shoulder,
apparently interested in her paper.
Enjoying the little game, Miranda kept her gaze on the screen and the steady
rhythm of her fingers didn't slack. If he wanted to distract her, Declan was
going to have to work at it.
Inhaling the faint scent of her perfume, he rested his chin against her
shoulder. "It looks good."
"Mmmhmmm . . . "
"I'm not bothering you, am I?"
"Uh uh."
"Good."
And so he remained, leaning over her shoulder, for a while until, to her
amused surprise, Miranda felt a hand slide across the smooth material of her
shirt, coming to stop on her midsection.
"Declan . . . "
"Yes, Miranda?"
"What are you doing?"
"Watching you type."
She looked meaningfully at the hand on her midsection then back at him. "Ok,
then what is your hand doing?"
"It's just there." Declan replied with a grin.
"Uh huh."
At her look, he put on an expression of pure innocence. "What? It is!"
"Behave, Declan." She instructed with a 'stern' look.
"I'm behaving!" he protested, mischief lurking in his eyes.
"No," A shake of her head accompanied her words. "You're deliberately trying
to distract me." She smiled despite the accusation. "Admit it."
"Maybe . . . " He singsonged, rocking on his heels slightly, feeling
decidedly mischievous.
She slanted a glance over her shoulder at him. "Yes."
He grinned. "You need to relax Miranda; take a day off and have some fun.
Just cut loose."
"Declan," She was the epitome of patience. "I need to finish my paper."
The anthropologist shook his head and reached down to pull her to her feet.
"No, you need to have *fun*, with me." She didn't resist as he tugged her
closer, molding her slim curves against his more solid, stockier form. "We'
ve been too busy lately . . . I miss you." Putting on his best 'pleading
little boy' face, he wheedled. "Please . . . "
She was waving, he could see the indecision on her face, it wouldn't take
much more.
Leaning forward, he skimmed his lips along her cheek and felt her lashes
brush against his as she closed her eyes, her breath quickening.
"Declan . . . " Her voice was thick and he smiled in triumph. He had her.
"One day, Miranda, just cut loose for one day . . . ok?"
"Ok." She echoed absently, resting her head against his, thoroughly
befuddled by his actions.
"Good." Taking her by the hand, he grabbed their jackets. "Let's go . . . "
Before she could react, he tugged her out the door.
TBC part 2