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“We’ve narrowed down the sites of the other explosives. Bomb techs have found and disabled two of them. We can assume that he has the third with him.” Kelly reported.
The news over the coms made Jubal just a bit more at ease. At the very least they stopped a potential for mass casualties.
As Jubal jumped out the van with SWAT right behind him, Maggie sent him a look, OA by her side.
“He still has a bomb in there, we need to be smart.”
They’d found his van parked on the south side of the abandoned building. The area was secured.
“The moment he realizes that his bombs are no longer active he’s going to panic. At that point there’s no telling what he’ll do.” OA advised.
None of them liked this situation.
Jubal knew the risks, with a nod to SWAT, they entered the building. Jubal lectured himself to prepare for just about anything. With each floor that they cleared, he could feel his dread increase.
The last door, they stood outside, waiting for instruction. His hand wasn’t steady.
“Sir, do we breach?”
Jubal hesitated, before he swallowed, nodding.
They gave a count right before they were bursting down the door. Jubal spotted movement on the far side. Jeff had been pacing, and the second he saw the many officers filling the room, he gripped the bag on his shoulder and pulled you closer to him towards the broken window. You stumbled with him, raising your hands. Jeff has a gun in one hand and a switch in the other.
“Jeff Rivers. We’ve already disabled the other two bombs. It’s over. You haven’t killed anyone yet, it doesn’t have to end here.”
Jeff looked frantic and you were a bit relieved. Your phone was tucked in your pocket, so you’re relieved that they’d heard everything.
“Put the gun down and we can end this peacefully.”
“No, NO!!”
He was now waving the gun around, clearly pissed.
“WHY AM I THE ONLY ONE THAT’S SUFFERING!! IT’S NOT FAIR!!”
He was spiraling and now you weren’t liking the situation. There were at least a dozen people in the room, if he set off his bomb it would take out the entire floor, maybe even the building.
“You guys need to leave.”
You instructed.
Jubal shook his head.
“You know we can’t do that.”
Jeff has backed all the way to the edge of the building, and the subtle sound of water rushing by below catches your attention.
Maggie and Jubal had been trying to negotiate, but it’s useless.
The erratic beats of this man’s heart is a clear indication.
“Please, just let her go, please...”
Jubal is begging at this point and for once you’re actually glad you don’t have your sight, because watching his broken stare would hurt too much.
Jeff doesn’t say anything, just lifts the switch.
Now one is really given a chance to react and you tackle him right off the ledge, both your bodies barreling out the broken window. Jubal stares in horror as your bodies hit the water and not even ten seconds after the bomb goes off. The building shakes and the water shoots up into the air like a fountain before it drops.
Maggie’s eyes show fear, and OA mirrors that expression.
Jubal is unable to say or do anything.
It takes him a moment to register the scrambling of agents in the room. OA is the one that ends up giving instructions.
Maggie grabs Jubal by the shoulder.
“JUBAL!!”
He jolts at the yell.
“We have to get out of here, the bomb damaged some of the structure. This place could come down on us.”
He stumbles, then nods, turning to the chaos that has started.
With your gym bag on your shoulder, your intention is to buzz by Jubal’s office before you head out. A few of the agents greet you on your way up. You’ve memorized the path, so you know how to get there. However when you move through the hall, everyone seems to be bustling around.
You intend to ask what the chaos is about.
There’s so much going on, despite that your ears track the erratic heartbeats of people moving around. No flags seem to raise, not until you smell it.
The subtle scent of plaster.
The type that is usually associated with a bomb.
The first thing you track is the person carrying it. A man, late thirties from what you can tell. At least six feet, strong build, unsteady right hand, the one that’s holding the switch. You need to think of something quickly.
You try to be subtle, because one mistake can set him off. The last thing you need is this bastard setting off a bomb there. You follow the man cautiously. He’s moving towards Isobel’s office. You sense it when he turns, and all you offer is a smile. You’re hoping your disability will give you some leeway, at the very least he won’t suspect anything, but apparently that’s hoping too much.
“(Y/N)?”
Jubal steps out of the room, reading your expression.
That seems to trigger the man. He grits his teeth as he grabs you, arm locked around your throat as his free hand lifts to show the switch. People rush in the room and guns are raised.
“Back up!! EVERYONE BACK THE HELL UP!!”
You can easily get out of this hold, but you’re not confident that you’d be able to disable this bomb, so this hostage situation might be the best play. He must be after something bigger, otherwise he would have set it off the moment he stepped into the building.
“Okay, okay, take it easy.”
Jubal’s voice tries to calm the man down, but his heart is beating erratically.
You wish you could offer him some comfort, because you don’t need to see his face to feel the fear.
“I’m going to walk out of here with this agent and no one is going to stop me.”
“Listen, you want an agent, take me. She’s just a civilian. Take me.” Jubal negotiates.
Your capturer just shakes his head, moving back towards the elevator. No one makes the mistake of getting close. Once he’s in range, he presses the button. Jubal looks devastated.
“Please, please I’m begging you, let her go. Take me!”
“Not a chance. She’s important. I just need one scumbag official and it looks like I got the best one.”
“WHAT DO YOU WANT?!”
Jubal asks desperately.
The man just grins.
“You’ll know soon enough.”
The elevator doors close and people are frantically moving around the room.
“Get me visuals!!”
The order rings in the room as agents rush to pull up feed and information on your kidnapper.
~
It’s clear he has some mission. He’d shoved you into a van and the lingering smell of rust and plaster from the C4 is present. There’s more bombs. You need to find out where they are, what this man wants.
“You’re blind.”
He glances back, and you do your best to look like a wounded animal. You say very little in hopes that he’ll take it as fear.
“Why are you doing this?”
He makes another crazy turn that makes you jest into the hard surface.
“Wouldn’t you like to know. I didn’t realize they employed disabled agents.”
“I’m not an agent.”
He sends another look behind you, probably displeased. Given how rash his actions were you know he assumed they were just lying to him. Now you’re almost fortunate that you were the one he grabbed. He hasn’t even bothered to check you for a phone. With your hands bound behind your back, you carefully slide out the phone.
~26 FED~
“Eyes up everyone!!”
Jubal’s call pulls everyone’s attention. The image of your assailant is displayed on the screen.
“Jeff Rivers. I want to know everything, where does he eat? Where he does sleep, where does his barber live?”
Jubal sounds a bit desperate and everyone can tell why. The ringing on his phone diverts his attention and he tenses. When he clicks the button, he expects to hear your voice, he needs to.
“So you’re just some disgruntled employee?”
Your voice on the other side makes him turn to everyone, making a gesture for silence as he connects his phone to a speaker.
“Law enforcement failed me! I was arrested for a crime I didn’t commit. I had a fiance, a great job and a house. Two months in jail and I lost everything. My family abandoned me, my fiance wanted nothing to do with me! Everyone thought I was some serial bomber.”
“Now your idea to prove them wrong is to set off bombs at federal buildings. What a smart plan.”
The screeching of wheels echo and Jubal sends a look to Isobel as Kelly pulls up the location from your cell phone. The second they have it locked, all eyes move to the main screen.
“You suffered and now you’re going to put other people through what you survived?”
“SHUT UP!!”
The aggressive yell makes Jubal tense.
“They’ll all get what’s coming to them.”
It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that nothing good is coming.
Greg was practically beaming when you walked into the lab with Grissom and Catherine.
“I don’t have time for your games. Tell me what you have before I shoot you in the foot.”
The monotone of your voice made him get right back on task. So did the threat.
“Right, well the hairs we recovered weren’t from your typical animal. It’s specific to a certain kind of rodent. Anyone want to take a guess of which one?”
He looked around with a grin and when you placed your hand on your waist, impatient, he cleared his throat.
“The white tailed woodrat. Fun fact, southern woodrats live in caves and cliffs. In the west, woodrats occur from the deserts to the mountains.”
Grissom hummed.
“So we were right, our suspect was out there with the victim.”
Catherine smiled.
“Looks like John has some explaining to do.”
She gave Greg a pat on the shoulder.
“Good job.”
He nodded with a triumphant smile, leaning over with his eyes closed as if to receive a kiss. You just walked out.
“Next time for sure!!”
He called.
That was typically how all your visits went. He’s known for his antics, so you’re not even surprised when you come in sometimes to see a wacky t-shirt or crazy garment on his head, much like today.
The next case had led to a murder at a circus. You weren’t even phased when you entered for your evidence and he was wearing a red curly haired wig and similar round rosy colored nose stuck to his face.
“Did you know circuses originally started for individuals with body deformities? They were outcasts and the circus is where they found themselves."
“I’m surprised you didn’t join one.”
“Hah, that was actually clever. I’ll give you that one.”
He turned back to the microscope.
“So you were right about the fabric. There were traces of the same cleaning detergent on the wife’s jacket. Same with the boots. We have a match.”
He moved back, wheeling over to the other desk as he swiped a sheet of paper. When he rolled back to you he held it out. You were about to take it, but he pulled it back and you just glared.
“Nuh uh, what’s the secret word?”
“Hand it to me or I'll shoot you.”
He gulped.
“Close enough.”
You took it, walking right out, oblivious to the look Greg sent as you made your way down the hall.
He was used to hostility. You were probably the only person that threatened him whenever he went on his tangents. Catherine had warmed him countless times to stop pushing your buttons. She insisted that one day you might actually follow through and shoot him.
Heaven knows sometimes she’s thought about.
Maybe Grissom has too.
A casual snack on a late night case is what you need. You felt like you’d been working for days which had in fact just been about twelve hours. Greg had walked into the kitchen to grab himself a snack, making some coffee. Apparently he had the same idea. When you saw him you lifted a brow.
“You’re still here?”
He nodded, taking a seat with a smile.
“Grissom wanted his best on the case so I decided to reign in the calvary.”
“I heard they were down a guy that’s why you’re out in the field.”
“Potato, tomato.”
He waved his hand, then placed both elbows on the table dropping his chin into his palms as he looked at you. For a while you didn’t really say anything, just had your meal. But the longer he sat there the more irritated you seemed to become.
“Quit staring at me.”
You grumble.
“Can’t help it.”
He was wearing a dopey smile and you just sent him a blank look before you rolled up your trash and stood, tossing it. You didn’t even bid him goodbye, but he still waved, the very same smile on his face.
Yes, you were certain that you disliked the young CSI. He talked too much, made terrible jokes at the worst possible times, and he seemed hell bent on chasing you which really was in poor taste. You were positive you’d done everything to discourage him but he seemed like a dog with a bone. You’re almost positive that you’d never said anything remotely nice to him, yet he kept smiling at you like a lovesick puppy.
His presence was a nuisance.
That’s what you told yourself. Any day that you didn’t have to see him was a blessing.
At least that was the thought.
When you got called to DC to work a high profile case with your brother, you were happy to assist. You’d only been there for two weeks. You hated to admit it, but it was strange going to a crime lab and not seeing the smile you were used to, or poorly concocted pick up lines.
When you returned to Vegas you felt strangely calm, or maybe just comfortable. You had a nice rhythm here. That was it. That’s all it could be.
You shook the thought and went right back to work the following week. Given the close partnership with your department, you did a lot of cases with them, just like Brass.
When you came to collect your sample you expected the spiky haired over zealous scientist, what you got was Hodges.
“Where’s Greg?”
It was strange.
You’d never worked a shift where he was absent.
“Is that a joke? Everyone knows he’s in the hospital. He got shot a day ago.”
Hodges looked up when he realized it was you.
“Oh, welcome back I guess.”
His tone was anything but welcoming and you just went back to work. You meant to inquire about Greg getting shot, but Grissom walked in.
“You’re back. How was DC?”
You turned.
“What happened to Greg?”
Grissom shifted.
“He was shot. Luckily it went through his shoulder and missed anything vital. It happened in our last case. We were out in the field. He actually saved my life. He hasn’t stopped boasting about it either.”
Somehow you felt relieved knowing that at the very least he was well enough to act like the annoying guy he is.
“Are you worried about him?”
Grissom lifted his brow and you didn’t respond, just kept your face neutral.
“We should get back to the case.”
You moved to get the evidence from Hodges and Grissom merely walked over, a small smirk on his lips.
The shift carried on and as much as you tried to avoid it, your eyes would drift to Greg’s work station. Grissom explained that he would be back in a few weeks. Apparently he himself was getting antsy being bed ridden. You were certain that you weren’t even affected. If anything you should be happy for the peace.
But the quiet just felt..empty.
Catherine and Warrick explained that they had set up shifts to visit him. Yesterday was Nick, the day before Sara. Today was supposed to be Grissom.
“You’re going to see him?”
Everyone in the room looked over at Grissom’s words.
“Yes. I don’t think it would look very good if everyone did but me.”
Catherine did her best to hide her smile.
“Of course. You’re right. Have fun.”
She was smiling a bit too wide. Right then she must have realized that your request to see him was more than just a means to save face. You didn’t stick around to entertain any more questions, just left.
Now walking down the hallway, you didn’t realize how heavy your heart felt until you saw him lying on the bed through the blinds. He had a comic book in his hands, and his eyes were focused on the page, but his gaze seemed a bit distant.
When you got to the door that weight all but disappeared. You gave the door a soft knock, opening it as you stepped in.
The second he saw you he was wearing that grin. You closed the door, taking in the many flowers and balloons on the table at the entrance.
“You look comfortable.”
He nodded, almost puffing his chest.
“Well, you know what they say about heroes.”
There was the boasting Grissom mentioned. You were about to say something in response, but your eyes caught the slight tremor in his right hand. You looked up, just in time to see him tuck his hand under the sheet, planting a smile on his face.
“So you came and forgot to bring me flowers, that’s not very subordinate of you.”
He was teasing, and you would have just taken it as his usual playfulness, but you saw the quick change. He’d done what he could to mask that moment of weakness. Nothing about him seemed out of place. His hair was still spikey, he was smiling and he wasn’t wearing a brace, so you could only assume that he was healing nicely.
He was fine.
At least on the outside.
Having a profiler brother made you more aware of things.
Moving closer, you took a seat on the chair that was pulled up to the side of his bed.
He didn’t say anything and you suppose you could have said any number of things, but at the moment it became clear that there was one thing that he needed. Maybe your blunt nature had made you more observant and willing to say what was on your mind.
Reaching over, you gently took his hand that was somewhat buried under the covers. He looked a bit stunned. Whether for the observation or the simple touch, you weren’t sure. What you did know was one thing.
“I’m glad you’re okay Greg.”
Your hand closed over his palm, and you saw the slight waver in his eyes. He’d been scared, rightfully so. You know more than anything he’d probably put up a brave face. Due to his goofy nature it worked. At least for a while.
You’ve had your fair share of bullet wounds and it always left you with some unsettling feelings. For Greg, that must be amplified because he’s not used to being out in the world the way the rest of you are.
When he squeezed your hand back, this time you felt the tremor in his hand. The comic book was now laying in his lap, and he let out a dry laugh, raising his free hand to wipe at his eyes, possibly to get rid of any tears that threatened to spill.
With a soft exhale, he lowered his hand, this time looking at you with a sincere smile.
“Thank you..”
It was a soft whisper, one that you accepted with a nod of acknowledgement.
You weren’t ignorant. Your job had been a bit of a default because of your ‘gift’. In actuality it felt necessary.
You should have been glad that most people just thought you were weird. You’d gotten better at managing.
So, at the very least your superiors didn’t think you were crazy. You suppose having a gypsy aunt helped to solidify the story, because some of the people you worked with just made distasteful jokes every now and then.
“Still talking to dead people Gordon.”
The snide comment from a cop was something you were used to.
“Good one, still cheating on your wife with your personal trainer?”
That’s what you wanted to say, but of course the question would arise on how you found out and you weren’t interested in answering those questions. So you forced a smile on your face walking past him as you headed to see Sophia. She asked that you drop off the evidence you found.
Maybe that wasn’t the only reason you were there.
You opened the door, putting the items down on her desk. The bold letters written on the top of the note ensured that she would see it as soon as she came in.
“Thank you.”
You lifted your head, offering a smile at the woman standing in front of you, the subtle white glow of her body was indication enough of her passing.
No matter how many times you did this it never got easy.
Guiding spirits.
“They have everything they need to catch your killer.”
You stated after you’d tucked the extra documents under the folder.
She wore a weak smile, turning to the door, staring out the blinds at the many bodies rushing through the halls of the precinct.
“How do you do this job? It’s hard enough alone, but with all that you see, how can you show up everyday with all that you know?”
That was the million dollar question.
“Because I made a promise to my dad, and I’ve never broken a promise.”
Regardless of what people thought, you had a job to do at the end of the day. Your gaze shifted when her body seemed to shimmer. Your expression fell slightly at the realization. They only ever really passed on when peace was given.
She seemed to realize the same, because she turned behind her, staring in awe at something.
“Wow..”
She was laughing despite the tears in her eyes. You’ve never been able to see past that veil, but you knew that whatever was waiting for her, it was amazing.
She gave you one last look.
“Thank you for everything.”
You simply nod and just like that, she turns, stepping forward. In a blink she’s gone and you exhale softly. Her death had been brutal and like most cases it was painful, even more so that you’d been with her when her family came to claim the body.
A tear escaped your eye, despite your best efforts to stop it. You suppose it was naive to think that you’d get better at handling the emotional aspect of your gift. You’d been so distracted that you didn’t hear the door open.
“Can I help you?”
You blinked and there stood Captain Brass. He looked concerned. Quickly wiping your face, shaking your head.
“N-No. I was just dropping some documents off for Sophia’s case. If you’ll excuse me.”
You maneuvered around him, head bent as you paced out of the door.
That was typically how your life went. Being a CSI at Las Vegas Crime Lab was not so much your calling, but your duty.
Each day you went in you put your all into every case. You tried to give a voice to the people that couldn’t speak for themselves. An analogy that Grissom used once that seemed to fit perfectly.
Some days were tougher than others.
Like tonight.
You were handling a different case that led you to the hospital to follow up with a doctor about a surviving witness. Your eyes were deep in your folder when your phone started going off. With furrowed brows you slid it out of your pocket to check. The only thing that stopped you was the pair of feet before you.
Clearly the person had stopped because you were about to run into them. With your phone in hand you lift your head to apologize, shocked to see Brass standing before you. He looked equally stunned. It wasn’t his presence that startled you, but the very noticeably golden glow his body was giving off.
“You can see me..”
He sounded astonished, and you swallowed.
You didn’t want it to be real, but when you finally opened the message on your pager, it confirmed what you were seeing.
Captain Jim Brass was shot.
“(Y/N).”
Grissom’s call made you look up. He moved to your side and you were doing your best not to look directly at Brass, because at the moment you were the only one who could see him.
“I-I heard what happened and I came to see. How is he?”
It was a blatant lie.
The only one you could make up at the moment. Just by looking you could see the pain in Grissom’s eyes.
“He’s in surgery.”
Surgery.
Maybe that would help explain the current predicament.
“Am I dead?” Brass asked.
You mentally shook off the words, keeping your focus on Grissom.
“I know you can hear me, just shoot straight with me, I’m dead.”
“The doctors haven’t told me much.”
You expect as much, glancing in Brass’s direction, you weren’t oblivious to the way he looked at you, as if assessing.
“I guess the rumors were true after all. What a way to find out you weren’t just the niece of an overzealous con artist.”
At least his sense of humor hadn’t left.
Grissom looks curious, and that’s when you realize that you’ve been staring at that blank space for way too long.
“I have to get back to the lab. I’ll be back. Thank you Grissom.”
He nods, and you rush off shortly after.
Your plan had been to zoom home and figure out a plan of action. That’s why you’d pretty much sprinted to your car. It took a while to get home. Safe to say when you got to the door you did not expect a certain police captain to be standing in your living room.
“Good to see you too. So you can see me.”
You couldn’t fathom it, this was a first. He shouldn’t have been able to leave the hospital. Not on his own at least..
You expected him to have a different expression, but Brass looked pretty laid back given his situation.
“I guess it was only a matter of time huh. I thought I’d bite the bullet at my desk with a nice glass of whiskey.”
“You’re not dead.”
He paused, and you ran a hand through your hair. It wasn’t just one thing that didn’t make sense, it was everything. Now that you’re in this position, the only thing you can do is explain it as best you can.
“Usually spirits can’t roam freely unless I have a possession, something they treasured. Something tangible. I don’t have any of your belongings yet you walked right out of the hospital and your body is..”
Your words pause for a moment.
“Your body is glowing golden, not white. I don’t think you're dead. I think somehow you’re trapped between here and-”
“The afterlife?”
You nod, taking a seat on your couch. Brass is still standing there looking official and you’re no closer to figuring this out.
“I’ve never dealt with this situation before.”
You reply honestly.
For once, you’re not sure what to do. You might have to request the rest of the day off in hopes that you could find some solution. Even if you solve that, you’re still a bit lost and frustrated, because now you’re torn.
If he’s trapped then how do you determine which path he needs to take? Do you convince him to figure out a way to fight, get back here, or do you help him pass over? This is the first time you feel overwhelmed because you’re not sure what to do, you’re not sure how to help.
You place your hands over your face, letting out a sound of defeat.
“Chin up, at least you didn’t get shot.”
Your head whips to the side and you glare at him.
If the stress doesn’t kill you his humor surely will.
Ultimately you’d cashed in on some of your sick days. Given the circumstances, Ecklie hadn’t even truly questioned it. Your plan was to go through some books and see if you could find some lead to this problem.
The first day you called your aunt but she hadn’t been much help.
“What is to be, will be.”
She said it with a cheerful tone that almost made you want to jump right out a window.
You’re back to square one and you still know very little about Brass’s status at the hospital. Officers had been taking shifts. You were contemplating steering clear of the place because whenever you went over there you’d get into stupid arguments with Brass.
Like now.
“So you’re not very good at this huh.”
You squeezed the canned drink in your hand, lifting your head as you looked down the hall with a frown.
You weren’t trying to lose your job on top of all of it for yelling at someone who wasn’t there but he was really testing you.
“Just be quiet. “ You grumble.
He laughs.
“Looks like I hit a nerve. Since you’re the only one who can see me I’m sure you realize I’m going to be around for a while. Better get used to it.”
You really hope he would just step into the light right about now.
“You just prayed for me to step into the light didn’t you.”
“No.”
You don’t look at him and he just wears a smug little look.
Maybe tomorrow will be better.
~The Very Next Morning That Was Indeed Not Much Better~
“Good morning.”
You screamed and Brass just grinned.
His sudden appearance almost made you drop your cup.
“Sorry, I couldn't help myself.”
You had half a mind to throw your mug at him, but you figured he was already having a rough time. Placing your hands on the counter you mumbled under your breath.
“So any leads on helping me pass over.”
You turned to him slowly, eyes holding hesitance.
“You seem a bit eager to pass on.”
“Well, I’m not getting any deader, am I sweetheart?”
“You’re not dead.”
You mutter, picking your mug off the counter as you place it back in your cupboard.
You weren’t in the mood for coffee anymore.
“I appreciate the wishful thinking but it’s been days. I’m not exactly expecting a miracle. I already killed the guy that shot me, so what’s keeping me here? Aren’t you the ghost whisperer? Hurry up and work your gypsy magic.”
“Has anyone ever told you you’re annoyingly pushy?”
“I’d like to think of it as persistent or passionate.”
You snort, rolling your eyes.
As irritating as he’s being, he’s right. You’ve passed on more than a hundred spirits already. It should be easy, yet nothing about this situation is easy.
“By the way, nice shorts.”
You blink, looking down, face heating when you realize that you are practically wearing booty shorts.
In your defense it was six in the morning and you weren’t exactly expecting company.
“S-Shut up!!”
Brass just laughed as you scurried away.
Your time with Brass was nothing if not enlightening. You’d hoped you could get him where he needed to be, if nothing but the fact that he would no longer be roaming around your place.
Honestly you thought he’d be a bit more crass, but it took you about a week to realize that he never really ventured past your living room and kitchen. Given his abilities he could come and go as he pleased.
One night you’d stepped into the living room to check on him and he was just standing at the window, looking at the raindrops hitting the glass.
“It’s a little weird. I usually hate the rain, but it’s a bit relaxing right now.”
You suppose you could understand why.
“Grissom said your daughter stopped by.”
He just let out a dry chuckle.
“I’ll believe it when I see it.”
You couldn’t really blame him for being a skeptic.
“Brass, I never asked you, but do you want to-”
“You should get some sleep.”
His need to change the subject seemed to give you a bit of clarity. He moved to place a hand on your shoulder to give you a friendly tap, but you shrugged it off and he stopped.
“Why the hell am I wasting my time if you’re not going to try and fight.”
“I thought that’s what I was doing?”
“No it’s not. Since you've been here you haven’t once asked me to help you get back.”
He looks as though he’s been caught and that confirms everything. From the start it felt like he accepted it. The ridiculous jokes, acceptance, you probably should have seen through it sooner.
“Aren’t you supposed to help me, even if the outcome isn’t something that you want.”
You feel a bit attacked, because that strikes a nerve. In a way he’s right. In a lot of ways, this is similar to a DNR. On a spiritual level rather than a legal one. If he decided that he was done fighting then you should respect that yet…
Some part of you can’t seem to let go.
“I-I don’t care what you say! I’m getting you back here and that’s final! You have no say in this!!!”
You storm off, chest puffed and when Brass hears your bedroom door slam he actually smiles.
The following morning you feel a bit ridden with guilt, but you refuse to fold, so you just offer a hand for him. He’s confused when he sees you holding your hand out.
“Truce.”
You’re not really looking at him and he wants to laugh, but he just chuckles, taking your hand.
“Truce.”
As agitating as he was at times, you couldn’t deny that the short time with him, you’d grown a bit fond of him. You’ve known him for a few years and your encounters had been far and few between.
Grissom’s team typically worked directly with him, so you’d have run-ins every couple months. Back then you regarded him no different than the cops at his precinct.
But now it feels different.
“So how long have you been able to see all of this?”
It was a question he’d brought up one evening. With the litter of books in your lap about faith and passing over, you looked up. It’s not strange for him to be curious. To be honest he’s the first to ask.
“Ever since I was seven.”
Your eyes are back in the book, still working your angle.
“So you saw him, your old man.”
You stop altogether and maybe he feels as though he’s overstepped, because he looks like he’s waiting for you to tell him to piss off.
“I did.”
He’s the reason you’re doing this.
“Promise me you won’t hide from it, you’ll use this gift to help people.”
“I-I promise dad, I promise!!”
All he’d offered was a smile, and that was the very first time you’d passed a spirit over.
“At the time I was young, so everyone thought I was just dealing with loss. I guess being a kid works in your favor for certain situations. No one believed I actually saw him and everyone around kept telling my mom I was just trying to find my own way to grieve.”
“You’re better than a lot of us.”
You almost wanted to laugh at that. He made it sound so noble. For a second you think he’s going to tease you, but there is nothing but sincerity in his eyes.
“I know you’ve heard what they say about you.”
“Watch out, Gordon’s a freak.”
“I heard she talks to dead people.”
“Gypsy my ass.”
“I guess they’re hiring crazies too.”
The statements cops had made in passings, or the ones you heard second hand. You weren’t oblivious. But it’s not like you could really say anything. Proving your abilities was almost as dangerous as defending them.
“If I survive this I’ll be sure to recommend you for a medal.”
He looked cheeky and you actually laughed at that. A genuine, belly hurting laugh. Brass found himself joining in at the pure ridiculousness of the statement.
It was the first time since seeing him that things felt light.
You thought the toughest part would be accepting that you actually kind of enjoyed his company, but you were wrong.
The toughest part was walking into the hospital the very next day and hearing those words.
“I’d encourage you to begin putting his affairs in order.”
The doctor’s somber advice was like a gut punch.
It felt like they’d practically given up.
Catherine had left after those words were spoken and Greg and Warrick were standing off to the side. Nick was at Sara’s side. Grissom seemed to be the only one keeping it together on the outside and you knew that was more for his team than anything else.
The officers within the vicinity didn’t need to hear the words, from the reactions you knew they understood. You’d turned back, expecting Brass to still be at your side, but he was nowhere to be found and you panicked.
You spun around, rushing down the hall.
When you broke the corner, relief washed over you when you saw him sitting in an empty chair next to a vending machine.
Your steps slowed as you approached and he just leaned back.
“You don’t have to look so sad. It comes with the job. If not today then tomorrow. It’s what we signed up for. Maybe it’s payback for what I did.”
“That wasn’t your fault!”
You were angry that he was bringing that up at such a time. Everyone knew he hadn’t meant to shoot that officer. and he looked up, so did the couple that passed by, confused as to who you were yelling at.
You just huffed in defeat, storming off. You didn’t want to spend another day in that hospital.
~
When you got home, you practically slammed the door, not at all surprised when Brass seemed to pop up at your side as if out of thin air.
“Dick move leaving me at the hospital. Is that how you treat your superiors?”
You weren’t in the mood for his comments at the moment.
“You’re such an asshole.”
“A label I’ve heard a dozen times.”
He was still trying to play it off with his poorly timed humor.
You wanted to be angry with him, but in a way, you could see where he was coming from. This situation was completely out of his control. You should probably be proud that he was accepting it so graciously. With another heavy breath, you dropped onto the couch.
You were out of ideas. You feel as though you’ve read every book on planet earth that could have given you any kind of insight.
There’s nothing.
You’re lost and just about ready to give up. It’s infuriating. This is the first time that you weren’t able to help and it’s painful. More so because this isn’t some stranger. This is a coworker, a friend..
When you feel a hand on your shoulder, you look over.
“It’s not your job to solve everyone’s problems.”
There’s a strange sense of understanding in his eyes and your shoulders drop almost in defeat.
Your eyes tear up and in that moment he realizes the weight you've been carrying. It’s never been easy seeing spirits, but this time, it’s even harder. They always said that for cops, homicide was different when you saw that one person on the table.
You suppose this is one of those moments.
You’d never been particularly close with Brass, but you knew him, and he was a good guy. Probably the few dozen left in the world.
“If it’s my time to hit the dirt then it’s my time. There’s nothing you can do to change that.”
You offer a weak glare.
“You’re not exactly making me feel better.”
He grinned, and despite the shitty circumstances, you let out a dry laugh, the tears slowly running down your cheeks. He gave you a gentle rub on the shoulder, and when you let out a soft sniffle, his attention changed.
The hand that was once on your shoulder lifted slightly and he reached out, gently cupping your cheek. The action caught you a bit off guard, and unconsciously, you leaned into the touch.
You felt strangely safe.
His thumb brushed your cheek, catching the remnants of your tears.
The subtle action made you lick your lips, gulping nervously. His gaze had softened considerably and you suppose you must have been mirroring the same. Your body felt warm, unable to pull your gaze away from him. When you bit your bottom lip, you couldn’t seem to stop yourself, you leaned in, the very moment he did and your lips met in a tender kiss.
Your fingers immediately moved to grab at his suit and he welcomed it when you pulled him forward. You both fell back on the couch and he groaned softly when your legs wrapped around his hips as he used his elbow to balance his weight.
Your hands were now gripping at the back of his suit. You would not have separated had it not been for the lack of oxygen. He pulled back to catch his breath and you were panting, trying to do the same. His eyes were solely focused on you and the events seemed to play back in your head, cheeks going red.
He smiled at the bashfully awed expression.
“I appreciate the memorable farewell.”
You were confused at the comment, that’s until you felt the warmth on your fingers tips. The back of his suit was giving a bright glow. Realization hit you like a truck, and you tried to grab him, find a way to hold on, keep him there, he just gave you a saddened smile. The more you tried to hold one the faster he seemed to be disappearing and after a few seconds, his body was no longer solid.
You were crying now and he shook his head with tears of his own.
“Thanks for keeping me company Gordon.”
In a blink, he was completely gone and you were laying there, frozen, unable to utter any words.
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You nodded, walking past the front desk as you headed straight for your office. The second you were inside you dropped your items on the couch as you sighed heavily.
Closing your eyes, you tried to get a grip.
“The man that let you go is a fool. I won’t make that mistake.”
Those words had been whispered as he thrusted into you from behind. With a shuddering breath, you shook your head, trying to clear your mind.
“It was a mistake, that was a mistake.”
After the many waves of pleasure had passed, you woke the next morning and snuck out of there. You were almost relieved when your things were on the table in his hotel. You were positive that neither of you had grabbed it, so room service must have brought it in at some point.
No matter how hard you tried you couldn’t seem to forget any of it. It was useless. The only reprieve you have is the fact that you’ll probably never see him again.
The knock on your door was a good distraction, your coworker walking inside. From the looks of it she had something juicy to tell you.
“Just a heads up, I heard we’re getting new management. Some big shot just bought the paper.”
As long as your job stayed intact you didn’t care which rich guy bought it.
The press company you work for is popular, so it’s not that unexpected.
“Word is he’s an uptight celibit.”
You raised a brow and your co-worker laughed.
“I’m serious. His name is James Wesley. All the guy does is work and make millions apparently.”
The look she wears shows that she’s gonna dig deeper.
You just sip your coffee.
“I’ll be working on my article if you need anything. Don’t let Andy catch you gossiping.” You poke. She giggled.
“No promises!”
She called scurrying off.
At least you have entertainment to keep your mind off your troubles for a while.
The rest of your morning was a bit laid back.
When you were all called in to meet the new owner, you couldn’t deny that you were intrigued. According to your boss, he was busy, so he would only have time to meet with a few of the higher publishers.
You knew your name would be on that list, so you were comfortably completing your latest article as you resided in your office contemplating your night of questionable choices.
The knock broke that train of thought.
“Come in.”
You didn’t look up, not until the door closed. Your supervisor was standing there with a smile on his face and your body went stiff at the man next to him. That very same stare as last night was directed at you. Yet you can see hints of surprise written on his face.
You had about five seconds to school your features and get your shit together.
You stood, moving to offer as much professionalism as you could muster given the circumstances. You stayed close to your desk, a bit afraid to get too close.
“This is (Y/N) Castle. Our last stop. If you need anything else please let me know Mr. Wesley.”
He nodded at your boss who excused himself with a look that said put your game face on. The door shutting felt like a cold shower. Of course out of all the men in this damn city you could have had a one night stand with, it had to be some rich entrepreneur.
“I..”
Words wouldn’t form. He didn’t really say anything either, just stood there, watching you like he’d done that night, almost like he could read everything. Your thoughts, panic. He pushed up his glasses, finally moving over. The closer he got the faster your heart rate went.
He stopped when he was right in front of you, and when he gently touched your cheek, you could feel yourself almost leaning into it.
“I thought it was the alcohol, but you really don’t know who I am?”
His thumb brushes your lower lip and you swallow. In all honesty, you have no idea who this man is. You’re not some oblivious fool, after all you’re paid to have answers to questions, but you couldn’t place his face at all and you’d only learned his name this morning.
“I-”
He kissed you and you squeaked when he pushed you against the desk. Your hands dropped onto the surface, shocked, panicked, aroused…
The last thing you should be doing is this. It’s clear that he’s an influential man. Everything about him screams danger, and now learning that he’s some freaking billionaire, you should be running in the opposite direction, but every brush of his lips makes you want to melt.
The delicate touch against your back has you submitting, and when he finally pulls away, you let out a staggered breath. Your eyes are closed, and his lips move to your cheek, then down to your jaw, against your neck.
Your hands grab at his suit.
“W-We can’t be doing this you’re..”
He’s..
“Y-You’re the boss I-”
He nips at your ear and your mind is gone. You really should have educated yourself on who the hell this man was, maybe if you’d recognized him the first time around he would have lost interest and you wouldn’t be fighting between your mind and your body right now.
You have enough on your plate. Messing around with this guy is going to ruin you. You're not sure you can handle another heartbreak right now. You whimper, lightly pressing against his chest
“P-Please..”
You expect resistance, but he moves back almost immediately at the plea and when he sees the conflict on your face, his hands move off your body.
“I apologize.”
It takes a few seconds for him to get back into that professional persona and you’re still trying to gather yourself, thankful for the support of the desk.
This time you can’t blame the alcohol for any bad decisions.
You’re a journalist for goodness sake. This entire situation is like every newspaper front cover you’d ever read.
“If..If this ever got out it would be messy.”
“So you don’t want me.”
You can’t believe he would even ask such a ridiculous question. You’ve already established that sex with this man is absolutely mind blowing. Add the status and his nerdy/secret undercover criminal energy, you’d be an idiot to say that you aren’t interested.
But as it stands you need to figure out the situation with your lease, sort out the fallout of your break up and complete your article piece before the end of the week.
You have more than enough on your plate. Adding more to that would be a mistake, especially since everything about this man feels so dangerously mysterious.
“I can’t want you. I can’t want this. I know I’m some kind of experiment for you. You’re some pent up stick in the mud and you’re looking for a high. I’m..I have my own shit to deal with and I can’t risk losing this job.”
It’s the only thing keeping you afloat right now. Both mentally and literally.
“You never answered my question.”
Your look of disbelief must be amusing.
He takes a step forward.
“Do you want me?”
This time it’s said much lower and you clench your fist. Maybe if you’re honest it’ll make breaking this all off easier.
“I want you.”
You confess.
“I want you so much I’m going crazy! All I’ve been able to think about today is last night. I feel like I'm going to lose my mind..”
You look a bit desperate.
“So you’re right, I want you, but I need this job.”
“Understood.”
Your brows furrow.
“What does that mean? Understood.”
“I won’t approach you again. This is your decision. You want me, that’s all I need to know.”
For a moment you think he’s joking, but he says nothing more, straightening his jacket as he walks out.
The second you step into his apartment, his scent seems to be everywhere. Not that you’re surprised. He takes your coat with a smile.
“Make yourself comfortable, I’m going to check on the pasta.”
You nod, folding your cane as you slowly venture forward.
Your fingers drift over the wallpaper as you make your way to the kitchen. You can hear Jubal moving around somewhat frantically and when he notices you he smiles.
“I hope you’re hungry.”
“Absolutely famished.”
It takes him a few more minutes to get everything set. The meal you share is nice and the conversation is even better. After he very adorably boasts about his cooking, you both find yourself on the couch, going back and forth about various topics.
Jubal is talking about his kids, describing them, and the topic of family seems to bring you a melancholy feeling. Maybe he notices. You feel the shift in his posture against the couch. You know he’s curious. You don’t talk about your life much, but he knows you lost your father.
You’d mentioned Stick only once before around him.
“It’s okay Jubal, you can ask me.”
There’s still a bit of hesitance on his part, but he finally seems to get the words together.
“Before, you spoke about someone named Stick. Was he your foster parent?”
You almost laugh at that.
Parent would not be a word you’d use to describe Stick.
“Stick was my mentor. I was a kid when I lost my dad. When he started training me I thought it was because he cared, but he just wanted a soldier. He’s one of those vigilante types.”
Now Jubal understands.
“I wasn’t comfortable being a mindless soldier and he didn’t want some clingy orphan, so I left. The guy was a jerk, but at least he taught me how to look after myself. “
You brush your hand over your wrist.
Jubal feels a bit guilty now.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories.”
You just smile, because you understand. He just wants to know more. Jubal has been vulnerable around you in the past, so it’s only fair that you offer the same.
“It’s okay. It’s nice to talk about it sometimes. Foggy is really the only other person I’ve confided in about this.”
“I’m glad I’ve been added to that list.”
You are too.
The air seems a bit lighter and when he reaches over and takes your hand, you lift your head.
“I have to admit I was surprised you agreed to have dinner with me.” He expresses.
“Really?”
“Really.”
He nods with a laugh.
Now you feel as though you need to be a bit more transparent.
“If I’m being honest, I’ve been interested for a while now.”
You’ve known Jubal for about two years. Foggy knew the second you started talking about the guy that you were smitten and it had only taken OA a few meetings to figure it out.
Now Jubal seems intrigued.
“You never said anything.”
You just rub your arm.
“I don’t exactly have the best track record when it comes to relationships.”
Frank Castle could attest to that. As well as Elric Natchios.
“My disability tends to make people weary and when they find out about my abilities, well it’s intimidating. It’s hard finding a balance. Most guys are either anxious because they think I'm defenseless or too capable.”
“What about you?”
The question isn’t what you expect and his thumb runs over your knuckle.
“How do you see yourself?”
He elaborates.
“I..”
That’s a bit of a complicated question. One you’ve never really considered before. No one has ever really asked you this.
“I guess I’d have to say that I’m strong.”
You laugh, because it’s both accurate and ironic.
“Resilient, driven, kind, beautiful..”
The words he speaks makes you flush.
“Those are just the ones off the top of my head.”
He says with a grin.
If you weren’t already enamored with the guy before, you sure are now. You move a bit closer, and Jubal smiles when you slowly begin to lean in. He mimics the action, palm laying gently on your cheek as he kisses you softly.
The tenderness of his touch and the carefulness of each action makes you so warm. Sometimes you forget that you don’t always have to be strong. Times like this you’re reminded of a fragility that you seem to crave.
Jubal takes special care with you, and not in a manner that makes you feel deficient in any way.
Pretty soon those careful kisses become a bit more insistent, and you climb into his lap, brows knitted as your hands run down his chest. You’re the one who pulls back to catch your breath. Jubal’s heart race has picked up, and so has yours.
One thing you’re sure of, you’re happy he asked you out for dinner.
Your little night activities are the first thing you remember when you wake.
You notice that you’ve changed into a loose shirt and you realize that after that situation, he’d helped you into bed. You’d already been pretty drowsy due to the alcohol and clearly he’d made sure you were tucked in before he left. You groan, covering your face.
You’re embarrassed.
Somehow you manage to get out of bed and take a shower.
Hopefully work will keep you distracted.
You go through your morning routine and when you step into the office, Foggy is the first to greet you.
“Geez you’re alive! Thank goodness. I thought you fell in a man hole or something.”
Your brows furrow and you pat your pants the sudden realization that you hadn’t checked your phone this morning.
“Sorry. Last night was a lot.” You mutter distractedly. You take a seat, both hands just messing with your cane. Foggy just stands there, waiting.
“So…are you gonna tell me how the date went?”
Just replaying the events makes you flushed. Foggy just watches you for a second before he grabs a chair and slides it right next to you.
“Alright spill, it couldn’t have been that bad. You’ve been crazy about this FBI dude for months now.”
You run a hand through your hair. You’re a bit relieved that Karen hasn’t arrived yet. To be honest, you’ve always had an easier time talking to Foggy with just about anything. He’s not going to let this go and you sort of need to let someone know. Why not your best friend?
“Last night was actually pretty..well it was great. We had dinner and he walked me home.”
“Is that all?”
You blush.
“Foggy you know about the..well, my thing..”
You make a getsure and he nods in acknowledgement.
“Yeah. What about it?”
You lean in a bit closer.
“We didn’t even go all the way. All he did was touch me and I..well I was screaming.”
Just expressing this makes you want to melt into a puddle.
“Wait, wait , wait wait, you mean you-”
“Yes.”
“Wow.”
Foggy looks impressed.
“Got to hand it to him, he’s good. Just his hand, are you sure?”
“I’m pretty sure I would know.”
“Damn. I know you’re sensitive but usually it takes a bit more for you to get all horny.”
“Could you not say that so loudly!”
“Dude, there’s no one here but us, I got you.”
You just let out a sigh.
He’s pretty shameless.
By some miracle you go about your day without crashing into anything due to your daydreams. Jubal has also left a message for you to stop by after work and you can’t seem to stop buzzing. By the time you make it home you jump into the shower and stay there for a bit longer than planned. Maybe you hope it’ll wash the nerves away.
You’ve managed to make dinner and listen to some notes on your case when you hear the doorbell. Your heart skips, and when you move to the door, you can feel your skin get warmer. You open the door.
Jubal watches you with a smile.
“Hey.”
“Hi.”
You respond shyly.
You step aside to let him in, closing the door when he’s inside. You were certain you’d at least be able to keep your composure when he was here, but his aftershave makes you a bit light headed. Sometimes your enhanced senses drive you a bit crazy.
He takes a step forward, and you anticipate each one. When he’s much closer, he reaches out, gently taking your hand. You interlock your fingers and he takes the last step, slowly guiding you into a kiss. This one is slower than last night, more calculated.
His lips part and join with a sense of precision and an equal amount of passion. Your legs tremble, and your hand reaches for him, flattening against his shirt. It slowly moves around, sliding over his back as you pull him closer. You’re matching each careful kiss, and he smiles at the soft moans you begin to release.
You’re the one who pulls back, just enough to get a breath. You huff, and he’s still wearing a smile as your breaths mingle. Your eyes are closed, and he presses a kiss to your cheek.
“Keep your grip tight. Straighten your shoulders.”
The instructions being given to you from behind had you doing your best to focus. You thought that Warrick had just been bluffing when he said he would help you practice your shooting but he was serious. You’re on week two and your skills need some work.
Pulling the trigger, you fire three shots. When you finally lower the gun on the table, you laugh a bit awkwardly. None of them had landed where you intended. At least this time it was closer to the center. The first time you missed the paper completely.
“Not bad right?”
You turn to Warrick and he smiles.
“It’s good that you kept your eyes open this time.” He laughs.
There was that.
You feel a bit guilty. He’s taking time to help you and you don’t feel like you’re getting any better.
“Hey, don’t worry about it. You’ll get the hang of it. Come on.”
He gestures for you to pick the gun back up and you do so with a little sigh.
“May I?”
He asks to help you adjust your posture. You agree, and he moves closer. Both hands move to yours that are now holding the gun. He adjusts your fingers at the trigger and his body helps you fix your posture. Before you’d been nervous about holding the gun, now you’re more aware of his assistance.
“Keep your eyes forward, focus on what you wanna hit.”
How exactly does he expect you to focus with his body so close?
“I-I think I got the hang of it.”
You mumble.
He hums and you swallow trying your best to maintain your composure.
The little training session ended on a good note.
You’d offered to pay for breakfast this time around. Now devouring pancakes, you’re laughing as he tells you some stories about him and Nick fooling around. It was nice, getting to know him, getting closer.
The week seemed to fly by, unfortunately your workload didn’t.
The clash of two cases had you a bit backed up, so when Catherine came in looking for her samples the same time Warrick did you weren’t even surprised. Greg was explaining what he’d found to Warrick and Catherine was waiting for the machine to process the unknown substance they had dug out of the victim’s wound.
Your eyes strayed ahead when you saw another worker stick some decorations on the wall. Catherine smiled. With all the craziness you’d almost forgotten that the year was almost over.
“Any new year's resolutions?”
Catherine questioned.
Your eyes seemed to automatically search for Warrick who was on the other side of the room. You just bit the inside of your cheek and Catherine smiled just as the sheet of paper was printed. You handed her the document with a smile and Warrick seemed to have gotten what he needed, because he was waving his file with a smirk.
“Looks like you didn’t strike out this time.”
You joked.
“Straight home run.”
He explained, exiting the room with a wave, Catherine not far behind. You slid into your chair.
You had to admit the only good part of the job sometimes was catching the bad guy. Too often than not the evidence seemed to be invalid. Times like that Grissom always knew what to say. You weren’t sure if he was just that good at his job, or he’d seen so much that he understood exactly how the world works.
Whatever the case, all you could really hope for was a happy ending.
By the time the shift had ended you were already pretty much packed up. You intended to leave when you heard Warrick calling you.
“Hey, I was hoping I would catch you.”
You slowed down, a smile on your face.
“What can I help you with CSI Brown?”
He shared a smile.
“Grissom’s having a little get together later at his place since we missed New Year’s. You should come.”
The invitation made you light up.
“I’d love to. Text me the time and I’ll be there.”
He was content with the response, so after you left, you planned to eat a late breakfast and catch a nap before the little party later. Unfortunately your little nap went longer than intended and you’d ended up showing up an hour late.
Not that anyone minded. The laughter alerted you that they’d already started the festivities.
There were a whole lot of people, twenty at most. You were even surprised to see Brass there. Then again, given the relationship with the team, it probably would have been weird if he didn’t show up. Warrick smiled the moment he saw you and you gave a bashful wave as he handed you a beer.
“Sorry I’m late. I should have set an alarm, I overslept.”
“No worries. The only thing you missed is Catherine and Nick’s showdown.”
You quirked a brow, just in time to see Nick slide off the wall, stumbling to pick himself up with a laugh. Catherine was in stitches, and from the sound of it, just as intoxicated as Nick.
She offered him a shoulder as they stumbled over to the couch. You couldn’t help but smile at the scene. Grissom was at the side with Sara, wearing a similarly happy expression. It was nice to let loose every now and then.
“One more drink!!” Nick called, lifting his hand.
“I second that!!” Catherine encourages. Grissom just shook his head.
“They’re going to regret that in the morning.” Warrick spoke.
You were positive the hangovers would speak for themselves.
The night carried on with laughter, conversation and a lot more alcohol. You’d only had two beers since you’d driven and Warrick seemed to be doing the same. Nick and Catherine both passed out on the couch. Much to Grissom’s displeasure. Brass was chatting up a woman who worked in finance. A friend of Grissom’s. Greg had been flirting with just about everyone.
At one point you’d stepped out to Grissom’s backyard, just to catch a breath. Apparently Warrick had the same idea. He closed the slide door and you offered a smile as you leaned on the railing, looking up at the sky.
“It’s hard to believe that the year is already over.”
Warrick nods.
“Time seems to be moving faster than we realize. Gotta remember to enjoy every moment.”
“That almost sounded like a wise quote from Grissom.”
Warrick chuckles.
“Maybe he’s rubbing off on me.”
There were times you could see how they were alike. Grissom trusted Warrick a lot, had faith in him and you could understand why.
“So how about we start the New Year off with some more shooting practice.”
With a bashful smile you shook your head.
“I’ve been having a hard time focusing, so it might be better if we put that on a back burner.”
His brows knitted.
“What’s distracting you?”
He seemed genuinely curious and you shifted on your feet before you fully turned to him.
“You are..”
For the first few moments there was confusion, but then his expression evened out, realization coming slowly. You’d hope that you wouldn’t have to outright explain it.
You held his gaze, soft, inviting, longing..
In one swift move he’d cupped your cheeks and close the distance. Your lips connected and you moaned at the desperation of his kiss. It was unrelenting and you held on, pulling him as close as your bodies would allow.
When your back hit the door, he pulled back, as if to apologize, but you just shook your head.
“Don’t stop..”
You pleaded.
He looked just as needy as you in that moment, and he laughed softly, pressing a kiss to your cheek.
“As much as I’d like that, defiling Grissom’s backyard would definitely get me fired.”
He was right. But your heart was still racing from the kiss.
“Only if you get caught.” You said softly.
His smile was twice as wide and you returned it. You were still a bit surprised. You’ve recently discovered your feelings, but you weren’t aware of his. Maybe he could read the question on your face. He just stroked your cheek softly.
“I thought I was being obvious.”
He stated.
Your forehead creased in confusion and he just smiled, eyes straying to your lips as he licked his own. The desire in his eyes seemed obvious and you swallowed, now a bit breathless. Clearly you were just a tinge bit blind.
Jubal walked into work that morning with a bit more pep in his step and OA wasn’t oblivious to the way he looked down at his phone and smiled.
“Good news?” He asked.
Tiffany and Scola looked up and Jubal just chuckled.
“Just another good training session.” Jubal explained.
OA was the one smiling this time and the knowing look Tiffany and Scola exchange had Jubal raising a brow.
“Something I should know about?”
“Oh nothing, we’re just wondering when you’re planning to ask her out.” Scola stated.
“Ask who out?” Maggie questioned walking in, placing her bag on the desk.
“(Y/N).”
They all answered in unison.
Jubal laughed, ran a hand down his tie then gave another laugh.
“What, no I’m not going to, she doesn’t want me to- we’re just-”
He was fumbling over his words and Maggie laughed.
“Trust me, if you ask, she’ll say yes.” OA encouraged.
Jubal shifted a few times before he placed his hands on his hips.
“You think so?”
“Definitely.” Scola replied.
Jubal hummed, about to ask further, but the dinging of his phone proved that he would have to put it off.
“Saved by the bell.” Tiffany joked. They all let out a soft laugh as they followed him to the jock.
~
“Thanks Murdock.”
The pat on your arm had you smiling, wiping the sweat from your brow.
You’d just got done with a session against a supervisor on the fugitive task force. When he heard about the program he’d requested to have regular training sessions.
Turns out it was great practice because you were learning a lot more from him. The introduction of so many fighting styles has actually sharpened your skills.
“No problem. See you next week.”
You dropped the towel on your shoulder with a soft breath.
You were in desperate need of a shower. You’ve been going for a few hours with some breaks in between. When your phone dings, you find yourself feeling around for your bag. Grabbing the head phones, you slip it in to listen to the message. You smile the moment you realize it’s from Jubal.
“Hey, you’re probably busy so I won’t be too long. I was wondering if you wanted to grab dinner, my treat. You’ve been working pretty hard. What do you say?”
Of course the obvious answer is yes.
Once the reply is sent, you wait for him to respond, heading out of the training area.
~Later~
The knock at your door is expected. You seem to catch his aroma before you even open it. The second you do, his scent hits you and it’s heavenly. You’ve decided that regardless of the friendly invitation, it couldn’t hurt to get just a bit dolled up.
The dress you’re wearing makes him smile.
“You look amazing.”
You smile.
“Thanks, I’d offer the same, but for all I know you could be wearing boxers.”
Jubal laughs aloud and you giggle.
He offers his arm which you take graciously. Jubal has informed you of this nice restaurant and you’re eagerly anticipating it. You both take a cab and when you get there, he guides you to the table and pulls out your seat. When the menus come, he comically reads each dish and you decide on the best as you laugh at his antics.
When he made the suggestion for dinner you were a bit anxious for obvious reasons.
It’s why you’re on your second glass of wine.
A waitress stops by to check how everything is going.
“Is everything to your liking?”
Jubal nods and you do the same. You’re about to ask for a glass of water. But her words interrupt you.
“If you have any issues I’d be happy to help you with them sir.”
You can tell just from the tone of her voice that there is an underlying meaning in those words. You quirk a brow and Jubal politely declines.
“We’re fine, thank you.”
She says nothing more, just walks away and Jubal laughs a bit nervously.
“You must be pretty handsome for her to so boldly flirt with you when you have company.”
“Oh, devastatingly handsome. You have no idea.”
You laugh at Jubal’s exaggeration.
The rest of the meal is filled with easy conversation and you drink the last of your wine. Jubal of course has offered to walk you home. You’re standing at your staircase. At least you’re trying to ensure you stay upright. You might have gotten ahead of yourself with the drinks.
“Thank you for the dinner.”
“Of course, I’m nothing if not chivalrous.”
An easy smile makes its way on your face as you move to take a step but you stumble for a second, and he catches your arm.
“Woah, everything okay?”
You nod, a bit embarrassed.
“I’m..I’m actually a bit of a lightweight.”
You admit.
“You had three glasses of wine.” He says with a laugh in his voice.
“Well it tasted great, I couldn’t help myself.”
In actuality, you were a bit nervous and you were hoping the alcohol would help ease your nerves. You place your hand on the railing to steady yourself and Jubal helps you up the stairs. When you get your key out, you open the door and he helps you inside. Once inside, the door closes and you drop your keys on the counter.
“I’ll grab you some water.”
You wave it off.
“I promise I’m fine. Just a little buzzed.”
“I’ll just take your word for it.” He chuckles, grabbing a bottle of water from your fridge. You move to the couch and he follows, removing the cap as he hands it to you. You take it gratefully, sipping the drink. When you’re satisfied, you place it down with a sigh. Jubal just looks at you with a smile.
“You look happy, so I guess that’s good.”
You just giggle.
“Sorry for the hassle.”
“Don’t be. I guess even superheroes have weaknesses.”
You fight back another laugh.
“I’m not a superhero.”
“I don’t know. You fight crime and you have kick ass abilities, sounds like a superhero to me.” He’s teasing and you remove your glasses with a soft laugh as you run a hand through your hair. Now in the comfort of your home, you feel a bit more at ease.
“You’re beautiful.”
It sounds like a musing, and your head lifts as you turn your head in his general direction. He seems to catch himself.
“Sorry, sorry, that was inappropriate.”
He tries to laugh it off, but you can hear his heart rate, and it makes your own speed up. You shake your head before he can fully retreat.
“No it’s..it’s okay. Thank you.”
Your voice is soft.
You feel a bit embarrassed now. He’s quiet and it doesn’t take a genius to know he’s looking right at you. Maybe the liquid courage still running through your body is what gives you the idea to ask this next question.
“Jubal, is it okay if I..”
You hesitate, but he moves a bit closer to hear your request.
“Would you mind if I..”
You lift your hands, as if to explain and it takes him a moment to understand.
“Oh, you want to?”
He makes a circular motion gesturing to his face. You tilt your head and he laughs at his own silliness before he gently reaches for your hands.
“You want to touch me.”
It sounds so suggestive and it makes you even more aware of this situation. You gulp, nodding and Jubal smiles, shifting closer. Your knees are now touching and he’s still holding your hands. He slowly moves them towards his face, and the second they make contact, the warmth of his skin does something to you.
He removes his hands, giving you a chance to do as you like. He closes his eyes, and you don’t move, not immediately. It takes you a moment, and when you finally do, your palms glide over his cheeks. Your thumbs move up, around his eyes, over his eyebrows, then back down his nose.
Your expression is a bit awed.
One of your hands pulls back, and your other drifts down. Your thumb stops right at the curve of his lips. Jubal’s eyes fluttered open, taking in the expression now present on your face. You look a bit enamored, and he does his best not to make a move. Your touches are a bit tantalizing.
Your thumb moves lower, tracing the shape of his lips and a pleasant feeling settles in his stomach. Your breathing has become a bit shallow. You keep going lower, grazing his beard and that seems like the last of his restraint. He gently takes your free hand, turning his head to press a kiss to your knuckles and your breath hitches.
He pulls back, and your hand slowly lowers, now laying on his shoulder for support. You lick your lips, and he smiles, hand cupping your cheek. His thumb glides over your cheek a few times before he slowly begins to move in. The action seems like a means to encourage you, or offer you a chance to draw back if you need to. In your head it feels like a taunt, because he’s moving so slow. It’s driving you crazy. The first thing you feel is his breath that tickles your lips.
The first kiss is nothing but a subtle brushing. He pulls back, testing the waters, and you tighten your grip on his shoulder, urging him back in. You can’t see where his lips are, but you need them so desperately.
“Jubal please… just kiss me..”
He chuckles at your neediness, nodding as he closes the space completely. His beard tickles you and you wrap your hands around his neck, determined to keep him close. Your fingers grip at the back of his shirt as he kisses you with a sense of urgency.
You do your best to keep up, mimic each action, but each touch is five times better than you expect and you feel a bit overstimulated just from his kisses. When his tongue gently brushes against your own, you moan louder than intended, body trembling against him.
This time he pulls back, looking at you, breathless.
“Are..are you okay..”
His breathing is heavy, and you nod a bit embarrassed.
“I-I’m fine. S-Sorry I just..”
You need to collect yourself. You untangle yourself from him, placing your hand in your lap.
“Sorry..”
Your brows knit as you work to get your breathing under control.
Jubal shakes his head, placing a hand on your shoulder to assure you.
“You don’t have to apologize. Did I do something wrong?”
“N-No!”
You hadn’t meant to shout and Jubal waited patiently for you to explain. With a few more soft breaths, you finally get yourself to calm down.
“All of my senses they’re heightened so sometimes it’s..it’s a little harder for me..”
It’s so embarrassing to explain.
In short, you get aroused a lot faster and you’re a lot more vocal.
“Is it uncomfortable?”
He sounds worried.
“No, no. It isn’t. I’m fine I promise.”
You look down at your lap with a sigh.
“Sorry, I feel like I’ve ruined the moment.”
You just let out an awkward laugh.
When his palm cups your cheek, your head lifts.
“You haven’t ruined anything.”
He kisses you deeply, and you moan again as he begins to lower you to the couch. Each kiss makes your body quiver and when he pulls back and begins leaving kisses against your neck, you whimper trying to hold in your sounds.
You bite down your lower lip and he smirks. His hand moves down your body and your mind tracks the path. You end up gripping the pillow behind your with one hand and pressing the other against your lips to keep your sounds in.
His hand moves to your thigh, sliding under the fabric of your dress. When his hands slips into your panties, you’re lost. You fist the pillow and one stroke of his hand is all it takes. Your hand moves to the side of you as you scream.
Jubal lets out a deep chuckle, hand still in delicate territory as he moves up your body and presses a kiss to your lips. He keeps making steady strokes and you’re practically moaning into his mouth.
When he finally slides a finger in, you make a grab at his shoulder, and he makes one careful curve with his finger that sends you over the edge. Your hips lift and you gasp out a moan. Jubal welcomes it, and eases his hand out of you when you finally come down. Your head turns to the side as you try to gather your bearings and your breath.
“That was pretty sexy.”
He whispers into your ear.
You just let out a soft moan, still holding unto him. You need some time to get it all back under control, and Jubal is more than patient.
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hey. The emily prentiss tag keeps being used for non Emily related posts. Could you please try and refrain from tagging Emily in fics that don’t centre her, thanks :)
Hi! I’m not sure if you read my story, but it is a criminal minds/csi crossover. In this part, Emily Prentiss is in the fic. That is why I added the tag. Although it was not centered around her, I find it easier to label so my readers are aware.
However, I can understand how that could be frustrating. I usually don’t add characters unless they are in the chapter or story. In the future I will be sure to pay closer attention to that.
Being a part of CSI in Las Vegas was the best thing to ever happen to you.
You started from the bottom of the barrel and you worked your way up to one of the best Crime Labs in the country.
Your team is amazing.
Warrick and Nick were like the brothers you never had. Grissom was the dad, Catherine the mom and Sara the ambitious sister. In a lot of ways you were a family. You had fun with the boys, empathized with the girls and things were nice.
The current case had barely been called in two hours ago. You and Warrick had been assigned to the case, and you’d gotten there and started on evidence collection. It should have been simple.
Except it wasn’t.
The call Grissom received from Brass was one of urgency. All Nick heard was talk of a fire. When Grissom sped into the scene, they had practically stumbled out of the car, racing to the building that was now in flames. Cops seemed to be everywhere, firefighters spraying down the house to calm the flames.
Grissom had immediately begun to search for his subordinates, relief washing over when he saw Warrick standing at the back of an ambulance with a mask over his face as the paramedics tried to get him to sit down.
“Warrick!!”
The call pulled his attention, and Nick meant to ask for your condition. Warrick had practically ripped the mask off.
“(Y/N) is still in there!”
The color drained from his face, and Grissom seemed horrified.
Nick had only taken one proper breath before he was sprinting over into the direction of the building.
“NICK!!”
Grissom’s call was ignored, so was the yells from officers and firefighters alike. He kicked the door open, covering his face with his sleeve as he dashed inside.
It was hard to breathe, he knew it would be. Squinting, he did his best to rush through the space to search for you. The flames seemed to be everywhere.
“(Y/N)!!”
His yells echoed throughout the space, but no reply came back. The sound of the ceiling creaking above caught his attention and he dove just at the right moment before it came down, ash and wood blocking his view momentarily.
He’d barely made it through the living room. It was getting harder to see, breathe, think, but he pushed onto his feet, heading towards the kitchen to check. The sight of a body was sobering. Your kit was a few feet away, and he coughed, running over and checking your body for injuries. There didn’t seem to be any severe burns, but you were unconscious. Without a second thought he heaved you over his shoulders, securing you properly before he went dashing for the front door.
All he could hear was the sound of his heart thumping and he prayed that when he got outside he would be able to hear yours. Jumping over the broken and burnt pieces of wood from the fallen structure, he staggered out of the building, right before another burst of flames went off.
He was unsteady for a moment, but managed to keep himself upright up until the point that the firefighters had run to his side to help you off his shoulder. They took you quickly and a paramedic moved to his side, guiding him to the ambulance as he continued to cough, trying to pull in as much oxygen as possible. He’d ended up collapsing on the floor, and Grissom was at his side, about to give him an earful. Now with a mask on his face, All Grissom could offer was a smile of relief.
The last thing Nick saw was your body being placed on a gurney as they carried you into an ambulance to help you.
When the chaos was over and the house was no longer in flames, the facts were brought in. Catherine, Sara and Grissom had taken the case the moment they heard you were in stable condition.
It took about a day to catch the killer who turned out to be a disgruntled employee of the victim. Apparently he’d returned to the scene to get rid of the evidence. He knew the area in and out and had managed to sneak by, setting the place ablaze to cover up it all.
Grissom was glad to make the arrest, even more so when heard that you’d finally woken up. Warrick and Nick recovered quickly considering their limited exposure.
You weren’t surprised when the team showed up the following morning, balloons and all. You were laughing, straightening on the bed. They’d placed the gifts down and moved closer to express their relief. Warrick looked guilty and you supposed you could understand. He’d been on the upper floor when the fire started and ended up in a brawl with the killer. He’d been unconscious for a few minutes from the blow.
You hadn’t even realized the place was on fire until you saw the smoke. By then the entire kitchen had gone up in what felt like a matter of seconds. Had the firefighters not dragged him out he probably would have ended up in a worse position than you.
“I’m sorry.”
You shook your head at his apologies.
“You have nothing to apologize for. I’m glad you’re okay.”
With smiles and laughter, you were just grateful that no one got hurt. When the doctor came in to lecture you about getting some rest, they were bidding their goodbyes. They were clearing the room, but Nick lingered.
You could see the understanding looks, and even the doctor had stepped out for you to have a quick conversation with him. You were smiling at him. The door closed and he moved closer to the bed.
“Grissom told me you went full superman, bolting into the place like a maniac. I guess I owe you that drink huh.”
You bumped his hand playfully and you expected an equally lighthearted response, but the look he sent you made your smile slowly drop. He looked almost terrified and your brows furrowed.
“Nick I’m-”
You weren’t offered a chance to finish, he took a seat and pulled you into a hug. Your arms had ended up awkwardly extended at how sudden the hug was. You could feel his heart thumping heavily.
“I’m so..glad you’re okay..”
His voice wavered, and it was then you seemed to understand the extent of his fear. His hug was tight, and you weren’t sure what to say.
Yes, you’d been scared, it was a terrifying experience, but having them around had made it feel less heavy. You suppose you’d taken for granted how much more it must have been for him, running in there searching for you.
Just as you meant to say something he pulled away, taking a breath as he ran his hand over his face, planting a smile.
“Hurry up and get better.”
You were about to respond, but he lowered his head and walked right out the door. You weren’t sure how to feel about the encounter.
It took about two weeks for you to actually be cleared. The doctor insisted that they needed to be safe due to how long you’d been in there and how much smoke you’d taken in. You were advised to report any issues. With a clean bill of health, you were back to work.
Greg had not so subtly brought you a cake and a few of the others had placed a banner to celebrate your return. All in all it felt great to be back. You were ready to be out in the field.
“Sara, (Y/N), you take the casino.”
Grissom was handing out assignments. You went to reach for the paper when Nick stepped forward.
“Actually, is it okay if I work this one with (Y/N)?”
Grissom looked curious, but didn’t seem to mind.
“Sure, why not.” Nick took the paper and Sara smiled as Grissom continued distributing cases. You sent a smile at Nick.
“Missed me that much huh.”
He just laughed, nodding.
“Sure did.”
With your cases, you all dispersed.
You weren’t surprised that the crime scene was packed with people. The body was found right next to a slot machine and the customers who’d been using the slots nearby seemed more concerned with grabbing their winnings than sympathizing with a victim.
“Come on, how long are you guys going to take!!”
The man had been yelling at you all for the last ten minutes. The cops were dispersed taking statements, the yellow tape keeping everyone else outside. For the most part you ignored him. Snapping your photos.
“Hey bitch I’m talking to you!!”
You just rolled your eyes, brushing it off. When you saw Nick walk past you, you raised from your learned position.
“What did you just say?”
He’d gotten right into the man’s face and you looked a bit surprised, moving to Nick’s side.
“Nick, hey just ignore him, he's a moron.”
You placed your hand on Nick’s chest to push him back just as an officer came to move the man who was getting unruly. When the man was being escorted away, you sent Nick a look.
“Dude, what the hell? Since when do you pick fights with civilians?"
He still seemed pissed, but he didn’t say anything. You lowered your hand, clearly confused.
For a moment he just stared at you, and you couldn’t read the expression.
It lasted for maybe a few seconds before he collected himself.
“Let’s get back to work.”
That’s all he said. You weren’t sure what to make of it, so you decided to just keep an eye on him. Maybe he was just having a rough night.
Despite that, the both of you carried on with the evidence collection for the next hour. After some discussions about the victim and people associated with him, you caught a lead that the man’s spouse was a place to start.
“You can head back to the lab, I’ll follow up with the wife.”
“I’ll come with you.” He spoke.
You laughed it off.
“Nick, I don't think I need extra body guards. The cops are meeting me there.”
“Still, it’s better safe than sorry.”
He’d never been so adamant on something that small, so you brushed it off. You would have thought nothing of it if he hadn’t been practically glued to your side for every trip. Even when you went back to the lab just to follow up with Greg. The only place he didn’t follow you in was the bathroom. It got to the point that you’d sneakily grabbed Catherine to the kitchen to have a word before Nick came back from trace.
“Is there a reason you’re holding me hostage?”
You released her arm.
“Sorry, I just really needed to talk to you.”
“Okay, what’s the problem?”
You looked over her shoulder.
“Okay, I might be overthinking it, but do you think Nick has been acting weird?”
“Weird?”
“Yeah. He’s been watching me like a hound and he got into a scuffle with a guy at the casino. I don’t know, it just seems like he’s on edge for some reason.”
“You know men, maybe he just needs to get laid.”
You sent her a blank look and she smiled.
“Just ask him. He might just be overcompensating. He did run into a flaming building two weeks ago. He might just be running off a high.”
“Hmmm.”
You hoped that’s all it was. You meant to ask more, but he came around the corner.
“Hey, where have you been, I thought you left without me. Let’s head over to the casino. I need to talk to the owner.”
You meant to make an excuse to stay with Catherine.
“Have fun kids, call if you need me.”
She was out of the room in seconds and you just glared in her direction.
“Traitor.”
Looks like you would have to wait until you cracked the case to interrogate Nick.
It took about twelve hours to catch the killer who ended up being the head of security at the casino who was banging the guy’s wife. You were grateful for another case solved, but the little voice in the back of your head was still pushing you to ask Nick what was going on. Even after the case was solved he still seemed uneasy and you couldn’t for the life of you figure out why.
Usually during your team ups you both would crack jokes, or make playful comments but the entire shift felt off.
Finally done with your internal speculations, you confronted him.
“Alright, we need to talk. What the hell is going on with you?”
You stopped him in the locker room. Nick slipped on his shirt as you walked in, almost glaring at him. He closed the locker.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
He was sliding on his watch and you scoffed.
“Really, you looked like you were about to body slam a civilian, you practically forbid me from going anywhere without you and you’ve been giving me weird looks all day.”
He still wouldn’t really look at you and it was a bit frustrating.
“Nick just talk to me!”
“I don’t know what you want me to say.”
“That’s funny because it looked like you had a hell of a lot to say to that guy at the casino.”
“He was being an ass and he could have hurt you.”
“So now you think I can’t protect myself?”
“That’s not what I said.”
“Then what is it? Tell me, just tell me!!”
“I CAN’T LOSE YOU OKAY!!”
He slammed his hand on the locker and you flinched. Not at the action, but his words, that stare.
Your back was now pressed to the locker as his hands settled on either side of you, trapping you against the structure.
Suddenly it seemed to make sense. His guilt, that fear in the hospital, his overprotectiveness.
You weren’t sure what to say.
Your lips parted, and the position felt strangely intimate. This isn’t the first time he’s been this close, it is however the first time your heart has beaten this fast due to his closeness. His breathing had been a bit heavy from the previous argument. It was slowly balancing out, and when you swallowed, he did the same, eyes drifting from your gaze to your lips.
When his hand slid down the metal surface, he took a step forward, licking his lips. You weren’t sure what was more shocking, the fact that this was actually happening, or that you suddenly felt a bit desperate to taste his lips. Everything felt so tauntingly slow, and when you were both just a breath away, your eyes fluttered close, almost out of instinct.
“Nick, Grissom says you need to..”
Warrick’s voice broke the trance and Nick pulled back almost immediately. You weren’t sure how much he’d seen. He just looked between the both of you before he spoke again.
“Sorry. Grissom needs you to send the release form.”
Nick nodded, eyes on the floor.
“I’ll be right there.”
He sent you a brief look before he was walking out of there. Warrick stepped to the side for him to pass, and as he made his way down the hall, Warrick sent you a look, but he didn’t say anything. He lingered for a moment before he left. You exhaled shakily, sliding down the locker, now seated on the floor, trying to gather your bearings.
Clearly there was a lot that needed to be discussed.
It’s easier to do your job without all the baggage.
You didn’t think it would feel this light not to walk around with the weight on your shoulder. You were actually humming as you matched the blood samples and when Nick walked in you knew it was for his results.
“Hey, I’m almost done, give me a second.”
Clicking a few keys, you printed the information. The document came streaming out of the machine you turned to Nick, he seemed apologetic.
“Something wrong?”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know (Y/N).”
You weren’t really sure what he was apologizing for, at least not at first. When realization hit, you just wore a small smile.
“It’s okay.”
Nick isn’t exactly Ecklie level douchebag, you knew for him the nickname was probably just one of those things.
“Here, your blood samples were a match.”
He took the paper with a smile.
“Thanks.”
“No problem.”
You look over his shoulder, almost expecting someone else. Warrick. Usually both of them are joined at the hip.
“Is Warrick not in today?”
Nick shook his head.
“Took a personal day. Grissom said he had something to do in New York. Both of them left. Catherine’s the boss today.”
“Oh, it must be serious.”
“Guess so.”
He waves the paper.
“Thanks again, see you later.”
“See you later.”
With a wave, you’re a bit curious about what had taken Grissom and Warrick away. Maybe a cold case. You shrug it off, heading back to your station. Maybe you should get Warrick a drink the next time you see him. He always brings you coffees after all. He’s also really nice to you, and he did give you a hug when you were pretty much crying your eyes out..
You blush.
He’s just a really nice guy.
Slapping your cheeks, you get back to work.
A few hours of processing countless samples and DNA and you’re clocking out. You’re still a bit curious behind the mystery trip, so you send a text, just to check in.
“Thanks for checking up. We’ll be back tomorrow.”
His response makes you feel a bit more at ease. You go to sleep without a worry that night.
The very next day you’re the one who comes in with the coffees. You have five, one for each of them. When you walked into the kitchen, Warrick looked about ready to leave.
“Hey, looks like I caught you guys at the best time. I bought coffee.”
You smile and they all seem grateful, each taking a cup. You know they appreciate the drink, yet the smiles they wear seem awfully suspicious.
“Umm, everything okay?”
Warrick is holding a file, placing the coffee down. The manilla folder is a mystery to you. He just holds it out.
“We didn’t want to say anything until we caught him.”
You’re not sure what that means, but you take the folder nonetheless, opening it. The image of your mother makes you freeze, and the mugshot of the man next to it has you staring in disbelief.
“You were a kid when your mother was shot. Even though you identified the man they didn’t have enough to hold him. He walked free and you had to live with that. I spoke to the officers who ran the case. They weren’t able to do much back then, but technology has advanced since then.”
Grissom explains.
Your hands are trembling, because there’s a part of you that thinks this is a lie. That they hadn’t actually caught the scumbag that shot your mother in cold blood. You’d always been too afraid to even look at the case. When you landed your job, you kept going back, but you could never find enough to prove it and the officers that worked the case were adamant that there was nothing they could do.
You look up with tear filled eyes. Warrick stepped forward, placing a hand on your shoulder.
“We got him.”
You weren’t really sure what to say. There didn’t seem to be actual words to describe your gratitude. Grissom simply smiles.
“I hope this will bring you some sort of solace.”
He has no idea how much this means to you. Rushing over, you hug Grissom tightly and he laughs softly, patting your back.
“T-Thank you..”
He just shook his head.
“You should thank Warrick.”
You pull back and Grissom gives you cheeks a little pat. When you turn to Warrick he’s grinning.
“Ready to learn how to shoot a gun?”
All you can do is laugh as you run over, pulling him into a hug that he gladly accepts.
Your daydream was interrupted by JJ’s question. You lift your head and JJ, Prentiss and Garcia are looking at you curiously.
”I’m fine.”
You're careful to keep your tone even, but it does nothing.
“Are you sure about that?”
Prentiss lifts a brow and you sigh, dropping the pen on the desk. The second you got the slip from Hotch you’ve been distracted.
“I have another joint case with the Las Vegas Police Department.”
“And that’s bad?” Garcia asks.
JJ and Prentiss seem to already evaluate why you’re so distracted.
They both take a seat and Garcia is more than ready for the inside scoop. She pulls a chair herself.
“I’m just..confused..”
“Confused about what exactly? An attractive intelligent man hitting on you?” Prentiss asks.
You stare in shock and JJ laughs at your expression.
“We knew the second you came back and stopped ranting about that supervisor. It wasn’t hard to put it together.”
If you were being that obvious you’re almost mortified now. If they figured it out then Spencer definitely knew.
“Don’t worry, Spencer is just as oblivious as you when it comes to these things. He has no idea.” JJ assures.
That’s actually a relief.
“H-Hey!”
Garcia giggles.
“It’s your character flaw. You can break down a case, but not the more finer things. It might be hereditary.”
They seem amused and you just sulk in your seat.
“What am I supposed to do?”
You’re not sure how to face him and act nonchalant after the encounter.
“It depends, do you like him?”
“N-No! He drives me crazy. He keeps questioning my work, he doesn’t like to admit it, even when I’m right and he says the most ridiculous things that are actually sometimes pretty sweet..”
You trail off and they exchange a look.
“So you really like him.”
You groan, dropping your head on the desk.
“This is going to suck.”
They just laugh.
The trip to Las Vegas felt like it just flew by.
Another murder case, one the sheriff was apparently paying close attention to. When you get on the scene, Sara and Grissom are already collecting all that they can. You’d read the witness statements on the way and did a preliminary evaluation on the suspect the police currently have in custody.
Sara is the first one that spots you making your way behind the yellow tape as you walk into the house where the body is currently laying.
A young woman.
“Good to see you again.”
You nod.
“I wish the visits were under more desirable circumstances.”
Grissom is second to notice and he looks over, glasses perched on his nose. Despite all the coaching you did to remain professional, the second your eyes met, that seemed to rush right out the window.
Unconsciously you lick your lips and he just watches you for a moment, the way he does when he exams something he’d like to solve. It makes you feel a bit bashful to be so carefully studied. You quickly divert your gaze.
“Catch me up.”
You state, ready to hear all that they’ve gotten so far.
The rundown is quick.
Gunshot wound to the back of the head.
From the wound as well as blood splatter, it’s clear that she’d been killed somewhere else.
Grissom informs you that they’d done their preliminary and he gives his insights before the body is taken away to be examined.
For the next hour they gather as much as they can before you’re all off again.
When you’d all made it to the morgue, the evaluation leaves a lot for thought.
Despite the obvious, there’s marks on both her wrists and ankles, as if she’s been restrained. All of which had been carefully covered before by her clothing.
“These aren’t the only marks we found. Superficial bruises on her gluteus maximus as well as similar healed bruising on her throat, over her eyes as well as along inner thighs.” Your gaze hardens at the doctor’s assessment.
“She was sexually abused?” Grissom questions.
“That was my first thought as well. But the kit came back negative. What I did find was a contraceptive.”
Your brows furrowed.
“She prepared?”
That doesn’t make much sense.
“Not just that.” She moves to the table and you watch as she holds up a sheet of paper, handing it to Grissom.
“There were pieces of leather remnants on her wrists. The trace came back and you’d never believe what we found.”
You’re a bit confused and Grissom simply looks like he understands better.
“Thank you.”
The doctor nods with a smile and you follow him out as he takes off as if on a mission.
“Are you going to share with the class?”
“You’ll know soon enough.”
Great, another riddle.
You’re both on the road again. When you step out the car you look around and the building Grissom heads for doesn’t truly answer any of your questions. He’d made a few calls before you left, so you’re not surprised that the people at the reception desk expect you.
“We’re devastated to hear about what happened to Ms. Harper. Anything we can do to help.”
The woman seems very cooperative.
You adjust the camera around your neck.
“We’d like to see the room she frequently used.”
“Yes, of course, follow me.”
Grissom sends you a look as you both follow her down the hall. As you walk through, the many doors are a bit lost on you. This looks like any other high end establishment. When you get to the desired room, the woman unlocks it, turning to the both of you with a sly smile.
“If you’re interested we’re very discreet about our clientele.”
She sends an awfully suggestive look to Grissom before excusing herself. With his kit in hand he enters and you prepare for a pristine office, but what you get is something completely different. The door closes and your face is possibly every shade of red.
“I-Is this a….”
“Sex room. Yes. The bruises found on our victim were not from any altercation. She had some very specific taste. It’s possible that one of her regular attendants could be our killer.”
He moves through the room and you swallow at the many whips, collars, chains and other erotic items around the room. He chooses a spot to begin his work.
You’re still a bit thrown off. You’re positive you’ve never been this flustered in your life. You can’t understand how he could be so casual about this. Then again, he’s probably seen worse.
“Make sure you photograph everything.”
You jolt out of your daze.
“Y-Yes!”
You practically scramble away and Grissom hides a small smile as he gets back to it.
For the next hour you’re logging everything of potential interest. You’d move to the corner with the few rows of stands that have an array of items. You can’t seem to really grasp it. You’ve never really considered venturing in this direction.
For a moment you lower your camera, reaching for one of the leather cuffs. You turn your hand once it’s around, as if to check the size and compare your hand with that of your victim, maybe understand when they were made, or what the appeal is.
You intend to just lightly close the metal, but it clasps shut and you flinch when you tug and it doesn’t release.
“N-No way..”
This could not be happening.
You pull and pull but it doesn’t give way, when you look over, the desk seems to hold a small container of keys but it’s at least ten feet away.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
This is embarrassing enough.
“You’ve gotten more involved in roleplay I see.”
Grissom’s voice makes your cheeks color.
“I-It’s not like that! I-I was just trying to understand the time frame of her bruises and the damn thing locked me in.”
He chuckles, easily spotting the keys, strolling over there with his kit in hand. He places the kit down and grabs the keys. As he’s making his way back over you’re still fighting against the restraints.
“If you keep pulling you’re going to bruise.”
You frown.
“How the hell do people even like this? It’s so primitive.”
Grissoms just wears a smile, and as he gets closer, you become more aware of how scandalous this situation is. You’re at his mercy in a sense. Chained to this structure.
He’s now standing right before you and the difference in height makes you swallow. He looks down at you, taking it all in. You’ve stopped resisting, lips parted, eyes solely on him, arm still in a lifted position from your predicament.
“BDSM is about power. Some people enjoy holding it, others enjoy being at the mercy of it. Regardless of the position, all of those engaged have control over what they want, what is done. For many it’s an escape from the things in their life they can’t control. For others…”
He moves in, and the lack of distance makes your mind go blank. He lifts both hands to free you, his lips a breath away.
“It’s the thrill, the racing in your chest when your partner has you completely captured..”
He’s right about one thing, your heart is indeed racing. You're dazed, and just for a second you assume he’ll close the distance. The click of your restraint echoes and he steps back as you stumble, your hand now free.
“We should get going. There’s a lot of work to be done.”
He turns, moving to grab his kit and you straighten your suit with a shaky breath.
“Damn him.”
This is actual torture.
For the next few hours you’re hard at work. Grissom is working the evidence with Sara. Nick and Warrick have stopped by for a bit of guidance, as well as to observe the progress on your case.
Grissom has presented a theory and he seems very sure the murder was done during one of the victim’s ‘sessions’. You haven’t ruled it out. It’s obvious that she was moved.
You know that much.
“Whoever did this, completed it in close quarters. According to the abrasions under her eyes, she was blindfolded first. This was someone she trusted. They were seated, and so was she.”
Grissom takes a seat on the chair he’s staged in the center of the room.
“So he had a chair adjacent to her?” Nick asks.
Grissom shakes his head.
“Not adjacent. He sat first, she sat second.”
Warrick looks curious.
“She sat in his lap? That’s pretty ballsy.”
“It explains the bruises on her inner thighs. Her body gave way when she died, so he had to physically move her, that’s why they were superficial. He added a little extra force than usual.”
Grissom makes motions with his hands as if to mimic the weight and action. Warrick grins.
“Nick, maybe you should help him out.” He nudges. Nick laughs and Sara puts her finger on her nose.
“Not it.”
They all laugh and even Grissom smiles at the antics. When their focus changes to you, well, you know it’s trouble.
“Maybe we should have our profiler do a bit of roleplay.” Warrick states.
You know he’s teasing, and from the looks you know they don’t expect you to actually do it. But you feel a need to prove yourself, especially after your little incident.
“Fine! I’ll do it.”
You march over and Grissom seems a bit impressed. Warrick and Nick are snickering and Sara shakes her head with a laugh. Now standing in front of Grissom, you’re determined. He opens his arms and you climb on, legs straddling him.
Instinctively you press closer to avoid falling and when you’re situated, you meet his eyes, as if waiting for instruction. He’s looking right back at you with that gaze that seems to penetrate you right to your soul. Your pulse once again has gotten a mind of its own.
“Close your eyes.”
“W-What! Why?”
“Blindfold.”
He gestures around your eyes.
You’d rather not, but you’ve already volunteered, so you might as well commit. Closing your eyes, you keep your hands steady on his shoulders. Without your sight you seem to be aware of so much more.
Like how broad his shoulders are, or how good it feels to be this close. His hands move down to your thighs, and you bite your lip to prevent any sounds from escaping. His hands are big, they seem to easily slip under each thigh. Unconsciously you tighten your grip on his shoulders, back arching.
“Good job, we got him.”
His words make your eyes open, and before you can question it, he stands with an almost victorious laugh with you still in tow. Clearly you're caught by surprise, the fear of falling imminent, but he easily manages your weight with a palm gently pressed to your back and your gaze once again meets his. He says nothing, just watches you for a moment before he places you gently on your feet.
“Thank you.”
That’s all he says before he’s diving back into the evidence.
You’re not sure what to say.
An hour later you’re arresting the spouse.
Apparently he’d caught wind of his wife’s extracurricular and decided to put an end to it before his reputation was compromised. Grissom was proud to report that moving the body was the husband’s biggest mistake.
Now with your criminal behind bars, everything feels right.
Warrick and the others have wrapped up their individual cases, bidding their goodbyes.
You’re the last to see Grissom.
You’re not sure how, but the second the door closes he seems to know it’s you, because he’s wearing that smile again. Like he can read your mind.
“Listen, I think we should talk.”
You need to set a few things straight.
“This little game you’re playing, I’m not interested. You’ve had your fun, proved your point. I’m clueless and inexperienced when it comes to certain things. I can admit that. What I don’t like is being someone’s puppet.”
“Who said anything about being a puppet?”
You frown.
“Don’t play dumb. You keep doing these little things that make me-”
“Make you what?”
He stands, and suddenly you don’t feel as sure. He slides his glasses off easily, placing them on the desk.
“Nothing I’ve done has been a game.”
You hate how such simple words make you so happy on the inside. His approach is slow and with each step, you can feel your defenses lowering. This man, he infuriated you.
“I question you because I want to understand what you do. My job is figuring out the how, the why has never been of much importance to me. Yet it works for you. I’d like to know more, apply it in a way that works with my evidence. What better way to learn than from the best.”
He stops, now looking down at you and your gaze wavers.
“You’re an amazing woman, and I’d be lying if I said that I don’t appreciate it, your perspectives, insights, presence..”
The last part is mumbled and you’re almost certain your legs will give out.
“I apologize if this makes you uncomfortable. If you’d like me to keep our meetings strictly professional then I respect that decision.”
You should say it, explain that professional is the only route forward. But when he looks at you that way, it almost makes you forget how truly deficient you are in this area. How much you really have missed because he looks about ready to ravish you and all you seem to think about is what it would feel like if he indeed decided to slam you against the wall and steal your breath away.
“I..I..”
You can’t form a coherent word, much less a sentence.
“Yes?”
He encourages.
You swallow, and he simply smiles, hands gently cupping your cheeks.
“I’ll be gentle since it’s your first time.”
He’s teasing you again, you know that. You should yell at him, but he closes the distance and any retaliation disappears because his lips are so soft and he smells so deliciously tantalizing. It must be aftershave, because he’s said on more than one occasion that he doesn’t wear cologne.
Messes with the evidence.
You moan, hands gripping his shirt as he gently pushes you to the wall. Your back makes a soft sound and his hands change direction, gently running down your body. One lands on your waist, sliding up your back to pull you flush against him. You gasp when his lips part for a moment only to reclaim yours, this time his tongue has taken control.
You whimper, bashful with your own inexperience. Grissom gently coaxes you to follow his lead and you do so, getting a bit light headed.
Maybe he realizes, because he pulls away this time and you pull in a shaky breath. His lips have changed direction, now trailing over your skin. He presses a kiss to your neck, then another and another, slowly caressing you.
You’re convinced that you no longer have the ability to speak, because all that seems to escape you are desperate moans.
You’ve used a bit of your extra cash to purchase items needed in the office and Foggy is always ecstatic.
“Man, life is good. Business is booming, you’re basically an FBI Agent/Lawyer. Things are nice.”
“You realize I’m not actually an agent.”
“Schematics.” Foggy reasons.
Karen walks over with a fresh pot of coffee.
She pours a cup for you, offering it and you take it with thanks.
Foggy leans against the desk with his arms folded and you turn your head in his direction.
“What?”
“Oh, you know what. Don’t act like you’re oblivious.”
You should know better than to expect him to let that go.
“I just remembered I have a training class today.” You place the cup down and Foggy laughs.
“You can’t run from it forever!”
That was sort of the hope.
When you step into 26 Fed, OA greets you at the entrance. You both step into the elevator, just barely stopping the doors when someone else rushes in. You recognize that cologne anywhere.
“Good morning Agent Valentine.” You say playfully.
Jubal grins, and OA gives a greeting, but pays close attention to the way you seem completely engaged with Jubal. The both of you talk back and forth before Jubal steps out to head to the jock. You assumed OA was doing the same, but he shakes his head.
“A friend of mine is coming to watch today’s training session, I wanted to give you both a proper introduction.”
“Thank you.”
He nods and you step back as the elevator starts moving again.
“So how long have you had a thing for Jubal?”
The question almost makes your shoulders stiffen and you turn around to deny it, but you can almost feel the grin on his face.
“I don’t have a thing for-”
The doors open and your words are interrupted. OA stretches his hand out and you grumble under your breath as you walk and he follows.
“Listen, Jubal and I are just-”
“You don’t have to explain anything to me, it’s none of my business.”
He still sounds smug.
You need to get better at hiding it.
Careful evasion of the topic and a few hours of sweat and punches later and you’re changing in one of the locker rooms.
Sliding on a sweater, you find yourself evaluating how to be more subtle about your attraction to the certain special agent in charge. You’re a bit distracted, that’s why you don’t sense the man in front of you until you crash right into him.
“Woah.”
He catches your by the arms and your folded cane hits the floor. Your glasses have also fallen.
“Hey, everything okay?”
It’s Jubal.
Of course it’s Jubal.
You nod with a smile.
“Yes, sorry about that. Usually I’m more coordinated. You’d think I was blind or something.”
Jubal smiles at the joke, and you mean to grab your fallen items.
“Let me.”
He moves to the floor, getting the cane and your glasses. When he straightens, he hands both to you which you take gratefully.
“Thank you Jubal.”
“Of course. How about I walk you back to your place. Don’t want you bulldozing anymore agents on your way out.”
“I survived a few decades with no incidents, I think you might just be lucky.”
“I feel lucky.”
With a warm smile, he releases you.
“Really Jubal, I’m fine. I was just in a bit of a daydream. I’ll be more careful.”
You can tell he’s reluctant to just walk away, because he must sense that there is more to it, but he doesn’t push. Which you appreciate.
“Alright, I’ll see you next week.”
“Next week.” You agree.
You give one last reassuring smile before you’re walking out. You aren’t oblivious to his stare that follows you.
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Graduation was filled with tears, cake and a whole lot of bubbly champagne. The little celebrations felt endless and when it all finally died down, the little after party at your house was coming to a close. Your mother was bidding the last of your guests goodbye as you started to clean up.
Clark had left a while ago with his parents, both of them very proud.
Lex lingered back, and when your mother turned the corner and saw him collecting the streamers, she smiled.
“I never thought I’d see the day. A Luthor cleaning my house.”
He gave a small smile, and she moved over to you, patting your shoulder. Given how close Clark and you were to Lex, you supposed it felt natural to have him in the house. She didn’t really see him that different from Pete, Lana or Chloe. All of you had formed a bit of a small group.
She liked him as your friend. Given what happened, you knew it was an adjustment at the start, but she seemed okay with it. You hoped it would make the news a bit easier to handle.
You casted a look at Lex, and he placed the streamers on the table.
You turned to your mother, and she looked invested, especially with how seriously you were now looking at her.
“Honey, what’s wrong?”
She’s concerned, and you just shook your head.
“I-It’s nothing bad.”
You look back at Lex, and he got the hint, moving to your side as he took your hand. Your fingers interlocked, and your mother studied the gesture, slowly putting the pieces together.
“Lex and I, we’ve been dating for about a year.”
For a moment nothing is said. When the silence became too loud, Lex took a step forward.
“I’d like you to know that we’ve been very careful. I understand that she has a future that can’t be jeopardized. I would never do anything to hurt her.”
His words are sincere, but your mother still looks as though she’s calculating all the information.
Her expression is starting to worry you.
“Mom?”
“Yep, still here. I’m just curious. Did she hex you or something?”
“M-Mom!!”
“I have to ask. I gave birth to her but you’re a very attractive man, the math isn’t adding up.”
“ARE YOU KIDDING ME!!”
She smiles, and Lex looks a bit relieved.
“Are you being serious right now!!”
“What, I mean he is a millionaire. Do you know how much of my charm it took to snag your father? He was so popular in college. I was fighting those girls off with a stick.”
You groan, placing your palm in your face.
“You’re unbelievable.”
Obviously you were worried about the wrong thing.
“I find it hard to believe that you did any chasing Mrs. (L/N).”
Lex’s charming smile makes your mother blush and you gape.
“Oh, how sweet.”
She moves to his side, taking his arm.
“Mr. Luthor, I might get the wrong idea and think you’re flirting with me.”
He laughs and you glare, grabbing his other arm.
“S-Stop flirting with my boyfriend! He’s mine!!”
It’s impossible to hide your jealousy and Lex’s smile is twice as big.
“Jealousy isn’t a good look on you dear.”
“Stop trying to steal my man mom!!”
That was how the conversation went.
Lex spent the better part of that half hour laughing as you continued to scold your mother as you all finished cleaning up.
You’d been grumbling as you did the dishes, while Lex was helping your mother fix the table, so you hadn’t heard the words they both exchanged.
“I appreciate you being so transparent.”
Lex was very conscious of the serious tone, as well as the expression of your mother’s face.
“Losing her father, it broke her. It had been so long since I’ve seen her smile. When she got that project with Clark, I was happy. She was so closed off and he brought her back out of her shell. Despite all of that, there’s a part of her that’s always hated anyone with the name Luthor.”
Her expression is a bit sad, and Lex understands. The contempt he’d seen when you confronted that day was easy to spot. When he saw the family photos, he realized. His family had always been just a thing in his life. There was no real bond, no unconditional love.
Yet he took one look at the photos in your home and he could almost feel it. He couldn’t imagine what it felt like to lose that. His mother was possibly the only one who loved him and she’d died when he was so young.
“The fact that she loves you must mean that you’re exceptional, because my daughter is an exceptional person and a great judge of character.”
Those words made him smile.
“Mom..”
The both of them turned, and you were standing in the doorway with a rag in your hand and watery eyes. Your mother actually laughed and you practically raced to her side as you hugged her.
Lex’s smile grew warmer as he watched the little moment before your mother reached out and yanked his arm, pulling him into the hug.
The entire evening was a blessing.
~Extra~
“I still can’t believe she tried to steal you.”
Lex is still laughing as you angrily pace around his living room.
“No need to get so riled up, I’d never choose anyone else, after all, I’m yours aren’t I?”
You should have known he would tease you.
All you can do is grumble, and he grins, leaning in and leaving a kiss on your cheek.
“You’re hot when you get all possessive and jealous.”
He intends to remind you of those words you said forever.
It felt like so much had gone wrong in your life and you supposed if anyone could relate it was Ratchet. It hasn’t been easy for either of you, maybe that’s why you’d found each other. Ratchet, to restore his faith in humanity and you to restore your faith in, well, everything.
All you seem to do is replay a few of the very comedic and sweet moments with him.
Like last month.
“Are those gummy bears and chocolate?”
You hadn’t realized you were craving it until he emptied the grocery bag. Ratchet has become very independent, and he always looks so accomplished when he gets all the products on your list when he shops alone.
“Yes. Your menstrual cycle is approaching and you crave these desserts when it arrives. I have also retained the necessary equipment to survive the tortuous experience.”
He pulled out two packs of pads as well as three boxes of tampons.
Honestly you’re a bit stunned. You’d only told him one time about your period. Only because he’d tracked your low iron levels and assumed the worse. After you spent twenty minutes assuring him that you weren’t dying, he seemed more assured that this was just a part of the human physiology that he wasn’t well versed in yet.
“H-How did you know my period was coming?”
“I’ve imputed your cycle into my system to ensure I have an accurate time frame.”
You weren’t really sure what to say. You kind of felt like crying because that was literally the sweetest thing ever. Your lower lip quivered and when he saw the change in your expression, he moved to your side immediately.
“What is wrong! Have I obtained the wrong sizes!!” He looked a bit panicked, eyes darting between you and the box of pads and all you could do is laugh. You shook your head with a smile, pulling him in for a kiss that he accepted happily. When you pulled away his eyes were glowing and you just grinned.
“You are..happy?”
You nodded.
“I am. Thank you Ratchet.”
He shared a smile.
“You are welcome.”
That was just one of the many. He’s been slowly adapting better, figuring it all out. When Optimus came back, things were tense, yet once again it seems everyone has managed to co-exist. At least to an extent. Bumblebee spends his days at the junkyard with Cade and a few other autobots. You stop by regularly. On days that you and Ratchet are free, you venture to different spots so he can just be himself.
You’ve been to a few states and a number of venues that are open, spacious and beautiful.
Today you’re at another spot that’s covered by a mass of trees. Earlier when he was walking the path you’d been seated on his metal shoulder just watching the beautiful view below. Now you’re both seated, looking down at what seems to be a valley. You’ve spread a blanket and placed down your basket with snacks and drinks nearby. Your sundress blends right into the atmosphere.
Ratchet’s optics are trained ahead, but yours are strictly focused on him.
Lately you’ve begun to really appreciate it, him in his true form.
He always seems to be free, relaxed and it makes you happy, among other things.
You cross your legs at the thought that rushes through your mind. The dress isn’t really doing much to help. Now you feel a little more aware of how easy it would be for him to touch anything, feel everything.
“Get a grip girl.”
Sometimes you need to remind yourself that he can see and sense a lot. He always seems to know when you’re excited. You’ve gotten a bit better at hiding it. But it’s not easy when everything he seems to do urges a reaction from you.
He looks down at you and you straighten, planting a smile on your face.
“I-It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”
“It is.”
His eyes are still trained on you and you try to casually squeeze your thighs together. When his hand comes down at the side of you, you jolt slightly.
“Your pheromone levels are elevated.”
“Dang it!!”
“I-It’s nothing! Being in this place just makes me really h-happy I guess.”
You hope you’ve done a good job at covering it up, but even that feels a bit weak.
“Is that all?”
The way he looks at you makes you want to confess so much right now. His metal fingers are maybe a foot away from your hip. You look between his hand, then back up at him, nibbling on your lip. It’s stupid to think you can truly fool him. Clearly he’s not going to let it go unless you explain yourself.
You lick your lips and his eyes track every reaction.
“I..”
You gulp, finally really holding his gaze.
“I really like it when you’re like this, in your true form..”
You admit bashfully.
The rings in his optics seem to glow a bit brighter and you swallow.
He smiles.
“What a naughty human you are.”
You blush.
“D-Don’t tease me!”
Ratchet merely chuckles and you mean to put him in his place, but he leans closer and you lose your words.
“If it were possible for us to mate in this form I would gladly make love to you right here.”
Your lips part in shock and excitement.
His hand reaches over and when he gently parts your legs with his fingers, you’re not sure what to expect but your heart is racing.
“We’re all alone here, you can be as vocal as you’d like.”
That catches you by surprise, so does his thumb that lands right between your legs, pressing against your most sensitive spot. He gives a purposeful stroke and you jolt in surprise, letting out a moan.
You end up on your back, and instinctively you try to reach for something. Your hands end up pressing against his chest plate as he starts a tauntingly pleasurable rhythm. You’re a bit breathless, both the gentle strokes and the sensations that run through your body.
Your arousal is so effortlessly written on your face as you practically claw at the metal as he continues his ministrations. You’re moaning, gasping, almost screaming and he’s taking it all in.
“R-Ratchet w-wait I-I-I’m gonna-’
Your hips jerk and you release before you can stop it, a staggered scream echoing in the space. You know one thing that’s certain.
Your panties are definitely ruined.
Your head drops against the blanket, chest rising and falling a bit briskly. Your eyes are closed and Ratchet laughs lowly, his fingers running along your inner thigh. You twitch, looking up at him with a sense of desperation.
He can’t truly express how fortunate he is. Not just for your honesty, protection, but your acceptance. The very thing he’d been ridiculed for by society was the thing you seemed to love most about him.
You love him regardless, a feeling he didn’t realize he craved until he met you.
You lift your hand and when you press it to his cheek, his expression softens. You urge him closer, and he welcomes it, the soft kiss you leave on his lips. All he feels is the warmth of it. When he pulls away, you still look terribly desperate.
