FF: We Shall Rise Refreshed
Title: We Shall Rise Refreshed
Author: Ellie elliestories
Rating: PG13
Post "6B"
Summary: The morning after.
****
She awakened slowly, which was unlike her. It was a long, barely-conscious moment before she realized she was not ensconced in her bed at home, as she felt safe and comfortable. When she rolled onto her back and began to stretch, however, she realized where she was. Peter's room. Peter's bed. Stretching, she thought she felt remarkably sore for someone who'd not been able to move much the night before, for fear of one or both of them toppling off the bed in the middle of it all.
In this enormous old house, with rooms to spare and architectural flourishes aplenty, Peter had chosen this garret. Like the narrow bed in which she rested, with its plain white sheets and flat pillow, the room lacked adornment, was almost remarkable in its simplicity. Gleaming wood and white walls, the papers piled on the small draftsman's table that served as a desk the only sign of disorder. Aside, she thought, from the trail of clothes leading from the doorway to the bedside.
Twisting her head to the side, she inhaled deeply of the sad excuse for a pillow, smelling Peter, smelling them, and something else. She sat up a bit, taking a deep breath, eyes closed. Over the scent of sex permeating the room, there was something else, something that was making her stomach rumble. Not normally one for breakfast, she'd burned enough calories the night before to be ravenous now. On the other side of the door, she heard quiet steps on the wood floor, a soft squeak now and again as the steps approached. The investigator in her offered concern at unknown footsteps in a home not her own, as she sat naked in bed, but the naked woman knew it was Peter, a fact confirmed when he opened the door seconds later, a tray in hand.
He was in nothing but his boxers, and a smile lit his face when he saw she was awake. "Morning, Liv."
"Morning yourself." She sat up a bit, keeping the sheet around her, but turning to sit against the wall, making room for him. He sat next to her, placing the tray over his own lap, grinning and swatting her hand away when she reached for it. Any worries she'd had over awkwardness evaporated in that moment. Without a word, he handed her one of the coffee cups, two-thirds full but still steaming. He didn't look her in the eye as she tasted it, black with just a hint of sugar. She closed her eyes and smiled, savoring it. He leaned back against the wall then, too, shoulder to shoulder with her, their bare thighs touching under the sheet.
Peter cleared his throat a bit, and picked up a knife, gesturing to the large plate of pancakes. "Walter taught me the Secret Bishop Recipe. These, however, do not contain whatever secret love potion I'm sure he prepared for us the other morning."
She laughed, watching him cut a wedge of the syrupy pancakes. "It's probably better we didn't eat them then. I'd hate for this to be all a result of drugs."
Peter shrugged, and offered her the bite of pancake. "He's not a bad cook. You just need to watch what he's cooking and make sure it's safe for human consumption. When it is, you're in for a treat."
Closing her lips around the fork, she felt the tickle of his fingers against her chin as he guarded against drips of syrup. "Mmm. Banana pancakes. These are delicious." Smiling, she was delighted to watch his face break into a mirroring grin. "You going to share the secret?"
"Nope." He ignored her look, and began cutting the enormous pancakes into bite-sized pieces. He offered her another bite, which she accepted, before taking one himself. They ate quietly for a few moments, until there was little left of the breakfast, and one of his hands began to insinuate itself under the covers, following the curve of her hip. She smiled around the fork as he fed her the last bit of pancake and traced the top of her thigh, tracing the crease between hip and thigh, teasing.
Peter moved the breakfast tray to the floor, then moved back to her side, kissing her slowly as his weight pushed her onto her back. Kisses trailed across her cheek, towards her ear, when he pulled away just a bit. His breath hot on her ear, he whispered, "Nutmeg."
"What?" The peal of laughter run out before she could think, and he laughed with her, collapsing on his side next to her, wedged against the bead-board wall.
"The secret ingredient."
In answer, she closed the distance between them with a twist of her neck, capturing his lips with her own. She needed to trust him now, to know he was being honest with her. "Thank you."
His hand slid across her collarbone, tracing it lightly, pulling the edge of the sheet along with it, exposing her to him. Then both of them jumped apart at the slam of the front door, two stories down. Olivia clung precariously to the edge of the bed, as they listened for further indication of Walter's whereabouts. After a few seconds, they looked at one another.
"We should probably get dressed." Peter kept his gaze above her shoulders, one finger twirling through her hair.
"Yeah." She made to move to leave the bed, until the heavy tread of Walter's footsteps on the stairs broke their reverie.
"Peter! Peter, are you and Agent Dunham up there together? I hope you're--"
"Yes, Walter!" Peter called, cutting him off. "i'll be down in a minute." He flopped back on the bed, staring up at the canted ceiling. "Sorry."
"It's all right," she said, one hand on his shoulder as she sat up and looked back at him over her shoulder. "Maybe tonight we could try my place."
"It might be a good idea." He sat up next to her, then reached down to snag a few pieces of clothing off the floor, pulling his t-shirt over his head.
"The bed's more spacious, too." She untangled her bra from her t-shirt, uncertain how they'd ended up twisted together to start with. They dressed quietly.
Peter slipped from the room before she did, casting a quick smile and wink back over his shoulder at her. "I'll see you later."
Olivia nodded, and watched him slip from the room, feet making no sound on the hardwood. As she was zipping up her boots, she heard Peter greet Walter, and the distant sound of pots and pans clanking in the kitchen. Carefully, she made her way down to the front door, and out into the brisk late morning sunshine. Walking to her Explorer, she took just a moment to inhale the fresh air, and enjoy the sunny hint of spring it carried.
****
Author: Ellie elliestories
Rating: PG13
Post "6B"
Summary: The morning after.
****
She awakened slowly, which was unlike her. It was a long, barely-conscious moment before she realized she was not ensconced in her bed at home, as she felt safe and comfortable. When she rolled onto her back and began to stretch, however, she realized where she was. Peter's room. Peter's bed. Stretching, she thought she felt remarkably sore for someone who'd not been able to move much the night before, for fear of one or both of them toppling off the bed in the middle of it all.
In this enormous old house, with rooms to spare and architectural flourishes aplenty, Peter had chosen this garret. Like the narrow bed in which she rested, with its plain white sheets and flat pillow, the room lacked adornment, was almost remarkable in its simplicity. Gleaming wood and white walls, the papers piled on the small draftsman's table that served as a desk the only sign of disorder. Aside, she thought, from the trail of clothes leading from the doorway to the bedside.
Twisting her head to the side, she inhaled deeply of the sad excuse for a pillow, smelling Peter, smelling them, and something else. She sat up a bit, taking a deep breath, eyes closed. Over the scent of sex permeating the room, there was something else, something that was making her stomach rumble. Not normally one for breakfast, she'd burned enough calories the night before to be ravenous now. On the other side of the door, she heard quiet steps on the wood floor, a soft squeak now and again as the steps approached. The investigator in her offered concern at unknown footsteps in a home not her own, as she sat naked in bed, but the naked woman knew it was Peter, a fact confirmed when he opened the door seconds later, a tray in hand.
He was in nothing but his boxers, and a smile lit his face when he saw she was awake. "Morning, Liv."
"Morning yourself." She sat up a bit, keeping the sheet around her, but turning to sit against the wall, making room for him. He sat next to her, placing the tray over his own lap, grinning and swatting her hand away when she reached for it. Any worries she'd had over awkwardness evaporated in that moment. Without a word, he handed her one of the coffee cups, two-thirds full but still steaming. He didn't look her in the eye as she tasted it, black with just a hint of sugar. She closed her eyes and smiled, savoring it. He leaned back against the wall then, too, shoulder to shoulder with her, their bare thighs touching under the sheet.
Peter cleared his throat a bit, and picked up a knife, gesturing to the large plate of pancakes. "Walter taught me the Secret Bishop Recipe. These, however, do not contain whatever secret love potion I'm sure he prepared for us the other morning."
She laughed, watching him cut a wedge of the syrupy pancakes. "It's probably better we didn't eat them then. I'd hate for this to be all a result of drugs."
Peter shrugged, and offered her the bite of pancake. "He's not a bad cook. You just need to watch what he's cooking and make sure it's safe for human consumption. When it is, you're in for a treat."
Closing her lips around the fork, she felt the tickle of his fingers against her chin as he guarded against drips of syrup. "Mmm. Banana pancakes. These are delicious." Smiling, she was delighted to watch his face break into a mirroring grin. "You going to share the secret?"
"Nope." He ignored her look, and began cutting the enormous pancakes into bite-sized pieces. He offered her another bite, which she accepted, before taking one himself. They ate quietly for a few moments, until there was little left of the breakfast, and one of his hands began to insinuate itself under the covers, following the curve of her hip. She smiled around the fork as he fed her the last bit of pancake and traced the top of her thigh, tracing the crease between hip and thigh, teasing.
Peter moved the breakfast tray to the floor, then moved back to her side, kissing her slowly as his weight pushed her onto her back. Kisses trailed across her cheek, towards her ear, when he pulled away just a bit. His breath hot on her ear, he whispered, "Nutmeg."
"What?" The peal of laughter run out before she could think, and he laughed with her, collapsing on his side next to her, wedged against the bead-board wall.
"The secret ingredient."
In answer, she closed the distance between them with a twist of her neck, capturing his lips with her own. She needed to trust him now, to know he was being honest with her. "Thank you."
His hand slid across her collarbone, tracing it lightly, pulling the edge of the sheet along with it, exposing her to him. Then both of them jumped apart at the slam of the front door, two stories down. Olivia clung precariously to the edge of the bed, as they listened for further indication of Walter's whereabouts. After a few seconds, they looked at one another.
"We should probably get dressed." Peter kept his gaze above her shoulders, one finger twirling through her hair.
"Yeah." She made to move to leave the bed, until the heavy tread of Walter's footsteps on the stairs broke their reverie.
"Peter! Peter, are you and Agent Dunham up there together? I hope you're--"
"Yes, Walter!" Peter called, cutting him off. "i'll be down in a minute." He flopped back on the bed, staring up at the canted ceiling. "Sorry."
"It's all right," she said, one hand on his shoulder as she sat up and looked back at him over her shoulder. "Maybe tonight we could try my place."
"It might be a good idea." He sat up next to her, then reached down to snag a few pieces of clothing off the floor, pulling his t-shirt over his head.
"The bed's more spacious, too." She untangled her bra from her t-shirt, uncertain how they'd ended up twisted together to start with. They dressed quietly.
Peter slipped from the room before she did, casting a quick smile and wink back over his shoulder at her. "I'll see you later."
Olivia nodded, and watched him slip from the room, feet making no sound on the hardwood. As she was zipping up her boots, she heard Peter greet Walter, and the distant sound of pots and pans clanking in the kitchen. Carefully, she made her way down to the front door, and out into the brisk late morning sunshine. Walking to her Explorer, she took just a moment to inhale the fresh air, and enjoy the sunny hint of spring it carried.
****