"The Toothbrush Talk"
Characters copyrighted by Warner and his Brother's. No infringement intended.
Finale to my Carter/Abby romance fic set in season 8. Repeat after me: They will get together. They will get together. They will...
Be warned, I turned on the fuzz for this one. If the whole idea of them being together brings you out in a blistering rash then either read it and keep those medical bills to yourself or hit the back button on your browser now. :)
For Jessica. Shaving, just as the lady requested.
Extra big thanks to Drummer. Just 'cause.
------------------------
She's only just finished lathering his face up in shaving cream. He didn't ask her to. It just seemed like the most natural thing in the world to do. He needed to shave; she was closest to the cream.
His hands rest on the edge of the sink, either side of her. She reaches behind herself for the razor and then begins to hum the theme tune to an advert. One of those male-shaver commercials with montages of guy's stroking their chins in awe of how smooth they are. She's tempted to help him re-enact one and smiles at this idea.
He squints at his reflection in the mirror behind her. "Hey Abby, would you like me any less if I grew a goatee?"
She gives him a look, as she begins to gently comb his face with the razor. "Who said anything about me liking you?"
He pinches an arm playfully. "You're a nut."
"Just call me Hazel."
He groans and rolls his eyes. "That joke's hard to take without coffee."
She laughs lightly and tells him to be quiet or she'll end up nicking him. He smiles and complies. He's always thought it wise not to argue with a lady carrying a razor.
This all comes so easily. Being like this with him. Shaving with him and working with him and kissing him and making love to him. Waking up next to him.
It all comes so naturally.
She's never trusted anyone so completely with herself. On the worst night of her life, she knows that she could go to him and wilt into tears and he would take her in without question, wrap her up in his arms and hold her as long as she needed to be held. She has never made use of this gift, but she has no doubt that she has this - and always will.
And as comforting as that is, it also holds an element of fear, of vulnerability. In fact, that was part of the reason it took her so long to act on any of her feelings. Everything in her life seemed to have this uncanny ability to fall into a million pieces with due time and she didn't want to involve him in any of the fall-out; couldn't risk losing whatever they had for a quick fling.
So she pushed him, and he pushed back.
And he pushed her, and she pulled back.
The dance they did.
And somewhere in all that pushing and pulling he had kissed her, and she hadn't pulled back.
She often wonders why. Why her. What on earth could she possibly have to offer him? Out of all the other fish in the sea, why does he choose to be with her?
She continues to focus on his jaw, resuming her humming as she finishes with the last stray vestiges of shaving cream.
He smiles at her, "Done?"
She shakes her head, and puts the razor down on the sink behind her. He gives her a perplexed grin and she smiles as she leans in to kiss his jaw. "Done."
His arms circle her waist and he pulls her tight against him to kiss her deeply. She holds his face in her hands as he kisses her, pulling back first, and planting a small kiss on his nose on impulse.
"And if you grow a goatee, I'm disowning you."
He grins and holds her gaze for a moment before turning her to face the mirror, his hands resting on her waist. She laughs at this.
"What am I looking at?" she asks him finally.
"You," he whispers into an ear.
She laughs again. "Me. So?"
"You're amazing," he sighs into her neck, kissing her softly.
Shaking her head she smiles wryly, dropping his gaze.
He looks up at her reflection, "Oh you don't think so, huh?"
She catches his eyes in their reflection. He's watching her with an intensity that she's never seen before and something shifts inside her, like a tide capsizing.
She turns to kiss him deeply, passionately; tempted to take him there and then. There isn't any fall-out and nothing's falling to pieces.
She grins against him finally, slightly breathless, "You should go get dressed... we'll be late."
He shrugs, his hands still drawing circles on her waist. "We could always skip work and go to the zoo?"
She laughs, "There a difference?"
Another shrug and a smile. "Patients don't look so happy when you feed them."
She smiles, and pats his side with one hand. "Go get dressed, Carter."
He laughs and leaves her alone in the bathroom, with one final kiss to her forehead.
She builds up a puddle of water in her hands and then showers it across her face, looking up into the mirror. Maybe it's just her imagination, but she swears there's something different about her.
A year ago she wouldn't have believed that this man would ever mean this much to her. He is the first man who has ever made her laugh hysterically in bed. The first who has ever made her cry out in passion. She just can't be embarrassed in his presence. There are no secrets between them and there is no fantasy that will go unexplored. She can whisper anything into his ear and he will do it, he will fulfill it.
He walks back into the bathroom, doing up the last buttons on his shirt, his tie loose around his neck. He looks up at her a little hesitantly. "So... you wanted to talk?"
She pauses, and turns to glance at him. "Um, no."
He smiles, and looks up from his button. "No?"
She shakes her head, "No... I wanted to give you something."
She reaches behind herself and then holds something up in front of him. He looks down at the object she wields and then up at her. "A toothbrush?"
"My toothbrush."
He grins. "Your toothbrush?"
She doesn't expand on this and so he takes it from her hands, eyeing it with amusement. "What... is it for luck or something? If I rub it will a wish-granting genie appear?"
She laughs and shrugs, playing with his tie for him. "Sure. Luck. Keep it - next to yours. For luck."
He's still grinning when she looks back up at him, his eyes twinkling.
And she kisses him because she knows that she may, that she can, that kissing him that first time was not a mistake, and because someday soon, she wants her toothbrush back.
***
An end.
Thanks for all the wonderful feedback on the first one, it was the only reason I decided to tackle my writer's block head-on and finish this one. :)
Characters copyrighted by Warner and his Brother's. No infringement intended.
Finale to my Carter/Abby romance fic set in season 8. Repeat after me: They will get together. They will get together. They will...
Be warned, I turned on the fuzz for this one. If the whole idea of them being together brings you out in a blistering rash then either read it and keep those medical bills to yourself or hit the back button on your browser now. :)
For Jessica. Shaving, just as the lady requested.
Extra big thanks to Drummer. Just 'cause.
------------------------
She's only just finished lathering his face up in shaving cream. He didn't ask her to. It just seemed like the most natural thing in the world to do. He needed to shave; she was closest to the cream.
His hands rest on the edge of the sink, either side of her. She reaches behind herself for the razor and then begins to hum the theme tune to an advert. One of those male-shaver commercials with montages of guy's stroking their chins in awe of how smooth they are. She's tempted to help him re-enact one and smiles at this idea.
He squints at his reflection in the mirror behind her. "Hey Abby, would you like me any less if I grew a goatee?"
She gives him a look, as she begins to gently comb his face with the razor. "Who said anything about me liking you?"
He pinches an arm playfully. "You're a nut."
"Just call me Hazel."
He groans and rolls his eyes. "That joke's hard to take without coffee."
She laughs lightly and tells him to be quiet or she'll end up nicking him. He smiles and complies. He's always thought it wise not to argue with a lady carrying a razor.
This all comes so easily. Being like this with him. Shaving with him and working with him and kissing him and making love to him. Waking up next to him.
It all comes so naturally.
She's never trusted anyone so completely with herself. On the worst night of her life, she knows that she could go to him and wilt into tears and he would take her in without question, wrap her up in his arms and hold her as long as she needed to be held. She has never made use of this gift, but she has no doubt that she has this - and always will.
And as comforting as that is, it also holds an element of fear, of vulnerability. In fact, that was part of the reason it took her so long to act on any of her feelings. Everything in her life seemed to have this uncanny ability to fall into a million pieces with due time and she didn't want to involve him in any of the fall-out; couldn't risk losing whatever they had for a quick fling.
So she pushed him, and he pushed back.
And he pushed her, and she pulled back.
The dance they did.
And somewhere in all that pushing and pulling he had kissed her, and she hadn't pulled back.
She often wonders why. Why her. What on earth could she possibly have to offer him? Out of all the other fish in the sea, why does he choose to be with her?
She continues to focus on his jaw, resuming her humming as she finishes with the last stray vestiges of shaving cream.
He smiles at her, "Done?"
She shakes her head, and puts the razor down on the sink behind her. He gives her a perplexed grin and she smiles as she leans in to kiss his jaw. "Done."
His arms circle her waist and he pulls her tight against him to kiss her deeply. She holds his face in her hands as he kisses her, pulling back first, and planting a small kiss on his nose on impulse.
"And if you grow a goatee, I'm disowning you."
He grins and holds her gaze for a moment before turning her to face the mirror, his hands resting on her waist. She laughs at this.
"What am I looking at?" she asks him finally.
"You," he whispers into an ear.
She laughs again. "Me. So?"
"You're amazing," he sighs into her neck, kissing her softly.
Shaking her head she smiles wryly, dropping his gaze.
He looks up at her reflection, "Oh you don't think so, huh?"
She catches his eyes in their reflection. He's watching her with an intensity that she's never seen before and something shifts inside her, like a tide capsizing.
She turns to kiss him deeply, passionately; tempted to take him there and then. There isn't any fall-out and nothing's falling to pieces.
She grins against him finally, slightly breathless, "You should go get dressed... we'll be late."
He shrugs, his hands still drawing circles on her waist. "We could always skip work and go to the zoo?"
She laughs, "There a difference?"
Another shrug and a smile. "Patients don't look so happy when you feed them."
She smiles, and pats his side with one hand. "Go get dressed, Carter."
He laughs and leaves her alone in the bathroom, with one final kiss to her forehead.
She builds up a puddle of water in her hands and then showers it across her face, looking up into the mirror. Maybe it's just her imagination, but she swears there's something different about her.
A year ago she wouldn't have believed that this man would ever mean this much to her. He is the first man who has ever made her laugh hysterically in bed. The first who has ever made her cry out in passion. She just can't be embarrassed in his presence. There are no secrets between them and there is no fantasy that will go unexplored. She can whisper anything into his ear and he will do it, he will fulfill it.
He walks back into the bathroom, doing up the last buttons on his shirt, his tie loose around his neck. He looks up at her a little hesitantly. "So... you wanted to talk?"
She pauses, and turns to glance at him. "Um, no."
He smiles, and looks up from his button. "No?"
She shakes her head, "No... I wanted to give you something."
She reaches behind herself and then holds something up in front of him. He looks down at the object she wields and then up at her. "A toothbrush?"
"My toothbrush."
He grins. "Your toothbrush?"
She doesn't expand on this and so he takes it from her hands, eyeing it with amusement. "What... is it for luck or something? If I rub it will a wish-granting genie appear?"
She laughs and shrugs, playing with his tie for him. "Sure. Luck. Keep it - next to yours. For luck."
He's still grinning when she looks back up at him, his eyes twinkling.
And she kisses him because she knows that she may, that she can, that kissing him that first time was not a mistake, and because someday soon, she wants her toothbrush back.
***
An end.
Thanks for all the wonderful feedback on the first one, it was the only reason I decided to tackle my writer's block head-on and finish this one. :)