#zibell

Thanks for the prompt! It's been fun to write some Maggie/OA again. There's one small steamy sentence for them here, but I hope it's pretty tame and you won't mind if you're a romantic Zibell shipper. Hope you enjoy reading!

#20. …on a scar.

#21. …on a place of insecurity.

When she was eight years old, she tackled a rude boy on the soccer field and made him cry.  She picked herself up and kept right on playing until the coach yelled that she was bleeding on the grass.  She tried to bandage her own leg so that her mother wouldn’t fuss over her, and she avoided the little boy for the rest of the season so he wouldn’t know how much it hurt.

The large gash on her leg still remains discolored to this day, and she’s collected too many more to count over the years, including wounds that run a lot deeper than a silly scrape on the soccer field.

But Maggie Bell is really good at hiding her scars.  It’s so easy to hide under the Kevlar she wears at work every day and to keep people at a distance so they never get close enough to see.

Until it doesn’t work on her partner anymore.  At some point along the way, he becomes both the partner who has her back in the field and the one who shares her bed.  And she can’t hide the long scar on her leg from someone who’s peeling off her panties and pressing light, teasing kisses along her inner thigh.

But sometimes when she’s lying next to him in the dark, listening to the slow, steady breaths he takes while asleep, she traces the ugly dark line that runs along OA’s bicep and presses her own kiss to his rough skin.

Thanks for the prompt! This was a fun way to try to jump start my Zibell muse again. Hope you enjoy reading!

#46. ...out of envy or jealousy.

“Hey, you know where I can find Maggie?”

OA raises his voice above the din of the restaurant, and a couple of the staff behind the bar glare at him.

It’s busy tonight, and they’re annoyed at the interruption by someone who hasn’t ordered a drink, but one of the women is easily won over, as her eyes turn hungry and she purses her lips approvingly.

“Well, aren’t you just a fine specimen of a man,” she murmurs, sidling up beside him and running a finger down the front of his shirt, tugging at the V-neck and not minding at all when the top button pops open.

But OA doesn’t allow himself to be distracted, and he grabs the woman’s hand before it skims any lower beyond his chest.  “I’m looking for Maggie,” he repeats in a low voice.

“Tina, what the hell are you doing?  Get your hands off my man.”

OA is pretty used to hearing Maggie Bell give orders, but after two weeks undercover, she’s fully in character as someone who isn’t willing to share.  She comes barreling through the kitchen doors, dropping a tray of appetizers on the counter and giving Tina such a dirty look that the other woman instantly slinks away.

“Hey, baby,” Maggie whispers, and OA has never heard that husky tone before as his partner wraps a fist in the front of his half-open shirt and plants a possessive kiss on him.

OA completely misses Tina’s envious sigh because Maggie’s mouth is hot and insistent against his, and when her other hand quietly slips inside his back pocket, he nearly misses what she’s looking for by staging this little act.

He summons all of his composure to covertly pass the tiny surveillance bug into Maggie’s hand, and then he stumbles backwards, stunned from Maggie’s kiss and needing to take a quick seat on one of the bar stools before his knees buckle beneath him.

Maggie just laughs and gives him a wink, and there’s a bit of sway in her hips as she shoots Tina a smug, satisfied smile.