The Blue ones.
A story born from me eating…well…I won't tell you. Cause it will ruin the story. Hope you like this little bit of fluff. Enjoy and review!
Summary: Another day of reviewing boring reports causes Don decides to mix it up a bit.
Pairing: Don/Terry
Rating: PG
…the suspect, Margery Nelson, age 31, was apprehended at approximately 13:20H as she attempted to flee out of her second story apartment building through an open window…
Don ran his hand down his face. He swore reading old reports made him feel like he had aged 15 years. He leaned back in his chair in such a way that a less skilled man would have flipped it. But after many years he had perfected leaning-really-far-back-in-a-chair into an art form.
He had been sitting at the desk in one of the spare offices for what seemed like an eternity, with his partner Terry folded up on a small leather sofa beside him. A sofa also known as his ridiculously short bed when he was caught working late hours.
Her shoes had been kicked off at around two hours into reading the files that they were going over for a case. Her now stocking feet were tucked up underneath her lounging body as she read over a report.
He glared. She looked far too comfortable for being at work.
He sighed and stood up, arching his back in an attempt to work out the knot that had been building up since fifteen minutes in to reading the mind numbing reports.
He ground his hands into his eye sockets until he saw spots. He remembered faintly being told as a child that this was bad for his eye sight. A small part of him hoped that this was true, and that the effect of such abuse to his eyes would be instantaneous; if only to give him a reason not to read anymore of those reports.
He glanced down at the just-under-a-dozen he had left.
He held in a groan. Okay, more than a small part of him was wishing for blindness right now.
He glanced back at Terry, who was still looking altogether far-too-comfortable, and came to a decision.
"Hey!" Terry looked indignantly at the man now sitting on her feet.
Don lolled his head on the back of the couch and gave her a look. A look that small puppies who had done wrong and young children who had thrown their baseball through glass windows had been using for years. A look only to be perfected now, by a 37 year old FBI agent.
Terry rolled her eyes, long since immune to such looks from her partner, "Don?"
The gaze continued, "mhm?"
"You're on my feet," she wiggled her toes that were now trapped beneath him to make her point.
Still, the gaze, "am I?"
She cocked an eyebrow, "you are."
He simply continued the look.
She continued on, "what if somebody walks in?"
He raised his eyebrows, "yes, what if," he repeated ominously. More than a hint of mocking lacing his tone.
"They could reach the wrong conclusion about what's going on here."
His gaze narrowed almost unnoticeably, "the wrong conclusion about me sitting on your feet?"
Terry shrugged, "possibly."
He sighed and shrugged back, "they won't," his voice lackadaisical.
Terry frowned, "and you became clairvoyant…"
He grinned just a little bit, "…when I locked the door so the secretary wouldn't be able to bring in anymore files."
She held in a smile. Such displays of amusement would only encourage him, "Are you even allowed to do that? I mean, this isn't even your office."
Don grinned again, "we shall soon see."
She sighed, "You're still on my feet though."
He looked downwards slightly, "so I am."
She groaned, "Don."
The wounded-puppy-somebody-love-me-please look came back with a vengeance, "you could move them. So I, your tired and broken partner of ten years, could have a seat on the couch."
She held in a grin, "Well I could..."
In all honesty she was about to move her feet and let his have a space beside her. It would probably do him some good. She had a feeling that he hadn't rested in nearly 24 hours, in his usual Don-like fashion.
Don sat up and she had to smile at how he did it in such a manner that he didn't crush her. The smile was then replaced by a look of shock as he then grabbed her feet, sat back down, and pulled her feet directly into his lap.
He sighed in a fashion that clearly said 'I win'.
Terry suddenly felt far too close to her partner. Walls that she had carefully constructed out of brick walls could easily be torn down like they were made out of room temperature butter with proximity like this, "Don…"
He leaned his head back against the head rest again and closed his eyes. He tapped a finger to his temple as he said, "Clairvoyance. Door locked," Completely missing the reason behind her objections.
He then placed his hands back down to his lap, wrapping them lightly around her ankles. After a moment of silence she forced down the butterflies in her stomach and went back to reading as he continued to rest; her feet stretched across him.
After several minutes of reading she became aware of Don yet again. His thumb was now slowly rubbing the space behind her ankle bone. She felt her heart do an very annoying pickup of pace. She bit her lip and forced herself to continue reading. She soon found this impossible as the pressure from his thumb intensified and became less of a "rub" and more of a "caress".
She took a deep breath. The sensation was nice. Really nice. Confusing and distracting nice. Read the same line five times nice.
She put down her report, "Don?"
"Terry?" He quipped back.
"You're rubbing my ankle."
The thumb stopped, "Oh, sorry."
He grinned sheepishly at her and leaned his head back again.
Don's head snapped forward. He had just been about to nod off when he heard it. The noise. The sound.
The sound of plastic being rustled.
He shot a look at Terry, "What are you eating?"
She gave him an innocent look, "what makes you say I am eating?"
He glared, "cause you just answered my question with a question."
She gave him the innocent look again, coupled with an impish grin.
An impish, slightly blue, grin.
"and because whatever you're eating is turning your lips kinda blue."
She frowned, the gig was up, "damn."
He sat up, her legs were now stretched out, so he had her calves in his lap, "you have food and you're not sharing!"
She shrugged defensively, "I just started and you were falling asleep!"
His eyes narrowed, "likely story Blue-food-hogger."
"Blue-food-hogger?" She rolled her eyes, "How old are you again? Twelve?"
He lean towards her, "Ha-ha-ha funny lady. Dish out the contraband or I post a bulletin by the water cooler saying Agent Terry Lake doesn't not how to share," His hand was out, in the universal 'place food here' gesture.
She leaned away from him and held in a smile, "Well if you are gonna start slandering my good name, I don't think I should share."
Don grinned a grin that she recognized too late as one of challenge accepted and suddenly Don was reaching around her trying to get at the concealed bag.
Terry for the second time in an hour had to hold in a shriek of surprise as he suddenly had several fingers on her ribs. Her lungs felt like they were going to explode.
He was tickling her. With a look of pure malice in his eyes.
Silent laughter coursed through her body and she tried to turn away from him. The bag still clutched in her hands. As she turned he used it as his opportunity to tickle her newly exposed side. The sudden sensation causing her to arch her back and fall into him, the back of her head on his chest, her body writhing, trying to get away, and her laughter noiseless, lest everybody out side the office think they were going insane.
Just as she was about to flail/roll herself right off the couch, her hands still a death grip on her bag, Don grabbed her elbows and steadied her, his hands blessedly not prodding her now sensitive sides.
Her breathes were in gasps as silent laughter still shook her body and she swore all of her muscles now felt like she had just completed a 5 mile run. As it subsided and oxygen once again returned to her brain she managed to glare up at her partner, "Do you know how much that hurts?"
He looked down at her, a huge grin still plastered on his face, "what?"
"Laughing without making a noise!" She shifted her tired body so she was leaning on his shoulder, making his face not so upside down.
Don's eyes were sparkling with laughter, a smile still plastered on his face, "which leads me to, man you are ticklish! I hardly even touched you! Have you always been this ticklish? How have I not noticed it?"
Terry grinned self-depreciatively before studying his smile.
Don suddenly looked wary, "why are you looking at me like that?"
She softly smiled up at him, "you're smiling."
He looked confused.
She shrugged slightly, "its just I haven't seen you look happy like this in….a while. A long, long while."
He thought for a moment, "really?"
She smiled again, "yah, you've been…really concentrated for the past while. Really focused. I can't remember the last time I saw you this…cheerful," She frowned and suddenly felt embarrassed, She looked away from his intense gaze, "I don't know. It's just…nice, to see you smile again."
He grinned, "well having a beautiful woman in your lap can do that to a guy."
Terry knew for sure that her face had suddenly flushed. Her mouth now hung slightly agape but she couldn't get her brain to make it close. Right not it was too busy trying to get her to keep breathing.
She hadn't even really noticed their proximity until now. The feeling of him against her, like it had been when they were dating…it had just felt so comfortable.
Now she was suddenly very aware of rise and fall of his chest beneath her back, his hands still wrapped around her arms from when he had caught her before she had fallen. The heat from his body was now seeping through her clothes warming her. She could even feel his breath brushing against her face, and smell the familiar scent of his soap and aftershave. As Don stared down at her the atmosphere changed and it made Terry's breath catch in her throat.
Terry swallowed as her heart raced in a away that didn't have anything to with the tickling and laughter from a moment ago. This was no longer teasing and being silly. She felt her stomach do a move that she thought was only reserved for Olympic figure skaters.
Don's hand released one of her arms, she was about to sit up, away from the source of her conflicting emotions, when his grip on her other arm, instead of releasing, tightened and held her in place.
Terry's brain nearly lost its keep-Terry-breathing battle as Don brought his hand up to her face.
Just before his touch lit upon her skin he paused and frowned; his hand hovering just above her cheekbone. She could feel the heat from it radiating on to her skin and without thinking she moved just enough that his hand was now against her. She nearly sighed out loud at the familiar feeling of his hands against her skin. God she had nearly forgotten how great it felt.
With a new confidence his fingers now skimmed across her skin and Terry closed her eyes for a moment, relishing the touch. How often had she secretly dreamed of this? During her weak moments; rekindling their old romance. She felt tendrils of warmth curl in her stomach. His fingers ran across her jaw, moved up and brushed lightly over her lower lip.
Her eyes snapped open and met with his. Her breathing was now more than slightly irregular and fast, something she couldn't hide from him due to the fact she was still leaning against him.
He stared down at her mouth, his thumb continuing to draw across it, his eyes focused, like he was thinking very hard about what he was doing. As he took another swipe at her lip she felt a tremble run through her.
A movement that Don obviously felt as well because his lips twitched into an almost impossibly small grin. His hand then lightly gripped her chin and turned her face towards him.
At that moment Terry's brain kicked in and panicked. Oh god, he is gonna kiss me! My ex-boyfried now partner, Don Eppes, is going to kiss me. Do I want him to?
A large part of her screamed, GOOD GOD YES!
But a smaller slightly more rational part of her quietly said, Dating your partner isn't something that is exactly encouraged within the agency. Not only that but we've now got a great friendship. Do I want to change our relationship? Go back to the ways of old?
The large part of her screamed in affirmation again.
But the small part spoke up, but should I allow him to? We are at work, suppose to be doing work, should we really start making out in the office? God I've been secretly wanting this for so long, and now suddenly he wants it to? Out of nowhere? What if he is just caught up in some moment. What if he regrets it when it is over? What if, what if, what if?
This time the loud shout telling her what to dodid not follow. It was then that in a very small voice Terry spoke up, "Don?"
Don's eyes snapped up to hers and saw them filled with so many different things. Doubt, confusion. Lust. Oh the lust was definitely there. But it as the doubt that made him stop in his tracks.
He drew his hand away and his eyes quickly found an interesting spot in the room that wasn't his partners mouth. He frowned, wincing, "god Terry I'm sorry. I don't know what..."
Terry shook her head and sat up holding up her hands, "no Don…"
He stopped and looked at her.
She was staring intently at her hands that were clasping and unclasping. Her mouth opened and closed as she fought to find the words, "Its not that I don't want to kiss you," She stopped and looked at him imploringly, "I mean I really want to kiss you Don." She laughed nervously, "you have no idea how much I want to kiss you," she rushed on.
Don held in a grin at the sight of his partner becoming slightly unhinged. Calm, cool and collected Terry Lake, in a near nervous break down. A very male part of him chimed in gloatingly at the back of his mind, because of me!
She bit her lip before focusing on her hands again for a moment, trying to gather her bearings, "Don this whole…thing…between us might be unexpected for you but…" She looked back up at him, "it really isn't new for me, I've been curbing these…urges for awhile now." She looked away from him, suddenly feeling very self-conscious, "Along with feelings of jealousy when your with another woman and fear when you go out into the front lines, and a really annoying habit of getting all flustered when I see you. I mean we broke up a long time ago and we're partners now. I shouldn't be feeling this way. So I've done nothing but push it all down. Hide it. Hell, be ashamed of it." she added sheepishly.
She stayed silent as he processed what she had just told him, though she didn't have the guts to look at him while he thought, "so for you to go to from partner/friend mode to wanting something more in a split second is kind of a lot for me to process. Cause I've wanted it but fighted it for... a long time."
Terry looked down at her hands. God she had shot other people, interrogated criminals, been at the frontlines of many life or death situation and she was unable to look her best friend/Ex-boyfriend in the face after she had told him she was still in love with him. That annoying loud voice was now making chicken noises in her head.
She began running through the emotions he could be experiencing right now. Stunned. Shocked. Aghast. Appalled. Horrified…the words got lower and lower as she continued on in her mental thesaurus. Oh god. I have just effectively destroyed any relationship I had with him. Terry clenched her eyes shut, she felt like she wanted to throw up.
She steeled herself and dared a look up into her partners face.
Hey…
What did you hear me say?
You know the difference it makes
What did you hear me say?
Yes, I said it's fine before
But I don't think so no more
I said it's fine before
I've changed my mind
I take it back
Erase and rewind
'Cause I've been changing my mind
Erase and rewind
Yah thought I would break it up, a kind of mini cliffhanger.
Second part already written and coming up next. Lyrics at the end here are from The Cardigans' Erase and Rewind, a song that you may have heard on the Never Been Kissed Soundtrack. I thought they really summed up the end of this chapter. I suggest you listen to this great song, it has a very sultry and angsty feeling to it.
Oh and the only beta for this was me so …if anybody would like to beta my stuff…I would be appreciative.
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