Turn up the corners of your lips part them and feel my finger tips

Chapter One

Sonora enters her apartment after a long shift. Her body is sore from lifting and pushing and being on her feet for almost ten hours. Her scrubs smelt of the hospital, disinfectant lemony and clean and the faint smell of washed out chocolate pudding from the first hour of the shift. God had it really been ten hours since she'd been home? She finds her door knob unlocked, but she is unafraid.

Once inside she locks the door. Her cat, Baxter, trots up to her, rubbing her legs and sniffing her shoes, which she promptly slips off, kicking them to towards the closet. They don't quiet make it, but they are enough out of the way no one will trip. Baxter runs after the white sneakers, investigating further.

Food is cooking. Nice food, fried food. She drops her messenger bag (decorated with tens of pins and permanent marker) on the couch (something else for Baxter to investigate) and went to the kitchen where he was standing over the stove, stirring noodles in a pot. "Hey." He greets with a smile. "I was wondering when you'd be getting home."

She kisses him and touches his bicep as she walks by to the cabinet. She takes out the cat food; Baxter comes running it at the sound of the dry kibble. "Just one of those days. I went looking for you an hour ago."

"Just lucky today," he says. "I hope you're hungry."

"Starving."

She feeds the cat, fills up the water bowl. He finishes dinner and she watches. She likes the way he looks when he is sitting at home without the lab coat. His normal clothes aren't any different from his work clothes, the thing that makes him a doctor is the coat and the stethoscope. The kitchen is hot from the stove despite the fact the fan is on. Sonora goes to the kitchen for a glass of water.

"There was a death-cat at work," he says as he turns off the burners.

"Oh I've seen them on the news." she puts her glass down and goes to get plates. "They sleep next to someone before they die."

He nods, puts food on the plates. "This one's name was Debbie."

They take the plates into the living room, sit on the couch, the coffee table their dining table. He gets the drinks, silverware and comes back sitting next to her. Baxter leaves his investigation of the bag to try and get scraps. She shoos him away with her foot. "You're not afraid of cats now are you?"

"Of course not." though the death-cat did mess with his superstitions.

They eat, watching TV. When the meal is done, she puts the dishes in the sink while he messes with the cat. In the kitchen she goes to the pantry, gets the cat food and Baxter immediately abandons Lawrence for food. She comes back out, flops on the couch next to him, putting her feet on his lap. "I never want to go to work again," she declares with a heavy sigh and leans her head back on a pillow.

"You don't mean that." he takes one of her tiny feet and begins to rub. "The kids love you."

"I know," she sighs. "Just a rough day." She always threatens to quit when her feet hurt. He rubs the other foot and as most nights, the foot rub leads to him running his hands up her legs. She pretends to not to notice when he reaches up, and pulls the scrubs off and tosses them to the floor. She is wearing black, lacy undies; a grin splays across his face.

He moves over top of her, she moves her legs apart, letting him rest his pelvis against hers. She kisses him, putting her hands on the side of his face, down over his shoulders and holds onto his biceps. His hands wander over her thighs, her ass and over her ribs and breasts. She takes his shirts off, tossing them to the floor. His skin is warm compared to hers. She kisses his neck, scratches his back.

Their position changes; his sits on the couch while she is on top. Her hair falls in her face as she moves, up and down, rhythmic like waves. He keeps his hands on her hips, guiding her motions, controlling the pace. She calls out his name as she orgasms, he shortly follows. He leans back into the cushions, pulling her back with him. She wraps her arms around him, strokes his hair. She presses his ear to her sternum, listening to her heart beat. It is the most beautiful sound in to the world.

***

Lawrence runs his finger along Sonora's spine as they lay in bed. It's the middle of the night, the moon light falls on their figures. "That feels nice." she says. His hands are strong, yet gentle against her. The way he touches her, she knows that his patients are all safe in his care.

"What are you doing tomorrow?" he asks her.

"I have to work another double shift. We could meet in the on-call room on the tenth floor," she smiles as she thinks of this. She loves their work quickies; clothes being haphazardly pushed aside, mostly still on. The look of desire in his eyes, the smile on his face. He holds her up against the wall, or keeps her steady on a stack of boxes.

"Yeah," he answers, thinking the same things she does. She is beautiful under the glow of florescent lights just as she is now in the moonlight. He touches the side of her ace, tucks a curl of blond hair behind her ear. "Let's get some sleep."

She nods. They kiss and he embraces her, gets in an ass grab before pulling the sheets over their bodies. She laughs and presses her face into the pillow. He puts his arm round her waist. He places his head on her chin, inhaling the scent of her hair. Her body is small against his, their legs overlap each others. This is the most beautiful moment of his life.