You know how to whistle, don't you Sam?

[hadtobe_said]

The house had been empty when he'd gotten home from his errands. He'd called out to Teresa, who hadn't said anything about going out, but there'd been no answer. It wasn't until he walked into the kitchen that he'd found the card. It first he assumed that it had been something his sister had sent, since it was his birthday in a few days. The

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[bettercop]

Once he entered, of course, Lisbon was waiting ready and waiting for him. All he would have seen when he first entered was most of her back -- the dress didn't cover skin on her backside until just a little above her hip -- and her calves. She was wearing a gorgeous red dress, and knew how to flaunt it. When he entered, she finally turned her head, just slightly at first, enough so that he could see the cigarette in her hand. She drew in a puff, holding it in her chest, and then released it.

Finally, she turned her whole body and sauntered up to him.

"Shut the door behind you," she murmured, in a low, husky voice. Once the door was shut, only a small desk lamp illuminated the room. She liked the way the shadows played on their faces, setting the mood of their encounter.

Mere feet from him now, she took another drag of her cigarette, her head turned just a little to the side so that the smoke would barely miss his face when she exhaled.

"You miss me, tiger?" She smirked, a little deviously, and adjusted his fedora so she'd have an excuse for her thumb to lightly graze his skin.

"I hope you've got answers for me, or this is gonna be a short meeting. And I'd hate to leave so soon," she teased. With her free hand, she held out a lighter to him.

[hadtobe_said]

When he first entered the room he was too overwhelmed by the dress, and the body in it, to say anything. It turned out to be a goo thing, because it took his brain a couple of minutes to catch up with what was going on.

God, it was like he'd walked into the pages of a Raymond Chandler story. The scene was set, the lights were low, and she looked like every femme fatale he'd dreamed of since he'd picked up him first hardboiled crime story at the age of twelve.

"You're hard to miss," he said first, because something was expected and it gave him a moment to think. Thinking, though, was hard when she was touching him and looking like that. Where had she gotten that dress and why hadn't he seen it before? And who had seen it before?

Lighting the cigar gave him an excuse to look away for a moment; he took a puff and blew a stream of smoke to the ceiling before looking back at her. What would Sam Spade, or Bogey, do in his position?

"I've got answers, sweetheart, but that doesn't mean you're gonna like them."

[bettercop]

Good, he'd caught on quickly enough. She'd half-wondered if this little venture would be a good thing, but by the look on his face, she'd made a wise decision.

She wandered back over to his desk, sitting in his chair and propping her legs up on the desk itself. The little fan on the table was blowing her hair around, and she continued to puff on the cigarette.

"Why don't you try me? I might surprise you."

If Sam didn't pour both of them a drink soon, she'd have to do that. The bottle of scotch sat out very conspicuously on the file cabinet, though.

[hadtobe_said]

"I'd be more surprised if you didn't surprise me." The words were true both of the brunette bombshell before him and the woman underneath that had planned it all.

Used to reading her body language he noticed the brief flick of her eyes towards the file cabinet. Not tequila, but more in keeping with the bitter PI he assumed he'd been cast as.

"It's been a long night, though. I'm sure you'll understand if I need to wet my whistle; following people the likes of your friends around sure does dry a person's mouth." He filled the glasses, as there happened to be two of them, and turned to offer one to her. "Care to join me?"

[bettercop]

"I wouldn't dream of disappointing you."

She hadn't smoked in years, but she could still manage a smoke ring, which dissipated slowly in the air as a slow smile formed on her face.

"Thought you'd never ask, stud. No ice, I take my scotch neat." She crossed her legs at the ankles, shuffling a few papers off the desk as she did so.

"I thought I'd come here tonight to explain the gun. It was a gift from my father years ago. I kept it locked up, but Johnny, he was always lookin' through my stuff, could've gotten the key anytime. Rotten man, that Johnny," she took a sip of her drink, "but I don't know, there was...somethin' about him. You know what that's like, don't you, Sam? You get attached to people."

[hadtobe_said]

"Good thing you don't want ice; the machine in the halls broken. Been that way since I moved in, and probably before that. Maybe it never worked." If he had ice, though, he'd be tempted to see how quickly it melted against her skin.

"The gun's the least of your troubles, doll." As she drank from the glass, her head tilted back, he couldn't take his eyes off of the curve of her neck, following it down to the pale skin of her chest, disappearing into the low cut neckline of the dress. he'd seen every inch of her, touched and probably tasted every inch of her, but somehow it was all different now.

"Johnny's in with bad people, Mz Lisbon, and he's doing his best to drag you down with him." He downed his drink in two gulps, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

[bettercop]

She took another sip of her drink, purposely licking the rim of her glass for a brief second, with just the tip of her tongue. One more puff of her cigarette, and then she put it out, grabbing her glass as she moved towards him.

They were mere inches apart, and she stared at his neck, her warm breath against his skin as she looked up at him.

"I'm not goin' anywhere, Sam," she assured him, with a cocky, half-smile. The thumb of her free hand went out to play with his collar, skin grazing skin faintly. "I like it here too much. Right here, with you."

She leaned in closer, so that her breath was hot and tickled his skin more obviously now. "Unless you think I'm no good for you. Might take you down with me. You wouldn't think that about little ole me, would you, Sam?"

[hadtobe_said]

"Maybe you're no good for any man. Or maybe you haven't found the man that's good enough for you." He used his empty highball glass as an ashtray, the burning end protesting as drops of alcohol and pressure made it sputter and die in a small acrid cloud of smoke.

"I do know one thing for sure, though." He could feel the heat of her body through his clothing, the fire enough to have him undoing the top buttons of his vest. He touched his hand to the underside of Teresa's chin, the first physical mood he'd initiated, and looked into her eyes. "I'm not letting Johnny drag you anywhere, not while there's breath in my body."

[bettercop]

When he touched her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes, it was the first time since the evening had begun that she felt the facade crumble a little.

"You gonna make me stay? Keep me here with you, Sam?" It was a question on the surface, yes, but in reality, it was a challenge. Make her stay.

[hadtobe_said]

"Might be that the best way I can help you is to get you out of here. Stick you on the bus out of town so you can get away from this slum." It was a challenge, right back at her, kicking their game up a notch.

[bettercop]

Challenge accepted.

The grin on her face was positively devious; the look in her eyes told him there would be no mercy in her handling of him, that she would take what she wanted.

And what she wanted was him. Always.

Not saying a word, she bit her lower lip and began to undo his tie.

"Might be that we need each other." She pressed a kiss to his neck, and then began to undo the rest of the buttons on his shirt. "Might be that we'll ruin each other."

Once his shirt was unbuttoned, she pressed a few kisses to his collarbone, and then turned him and pushed him against the desk. Her leg began to rub up against his, and her hand went out to cup his cheek.

"Might be the only thing that makes to me right now is you."

And then she kissed him, hard.

[hadtobe_said]

"Sense flew out the window when you walked in the door." Tonight, and every night, because God, he'd do anything for the woman rubbing against him right now, anything at all.

The first time he'd fantasized about a woman, way back in junior high, it had been after seeing To Have or Have Not for the first time. The image of her leaning against the door frame, lighting a cigarette, had fueled many dreams as had characters similar. Strong women, sure of themselves, their bodies and their men. This was the first time he realizes just how much Teresa reminded him of those women, even though he'd long since realized that she was everything he wanted.

"Need, though, well I can't deny that." His hands pressed against the bare skin of her back, the rough texture of his fingers in contrast to the silky smooth skin. Her dress against his chest made him shudder once, the knowledge that he was well on his way to being undressed while she was still fully clothed was an erotic one.

[bettercop]

Her tongue pushed its way forcefully into his mouth, not even asking permission to enter. She wanted to taste him, and only him, wanted to drive him wild, wanted to make him beg for her to set him free with the power of her touch.

"You do need me, don't you, tiger?" She finally pulled away from his mouth to suck at his earlobe, whispering harshly against the skin. "Tell me how much."

[hadtobe_said]

Need you more than I need my next breathhe was about to say in his more honest voice, but that wasn't how a cynical New York PI would answer.

"How do I know this isn't just about a dame, using every trick she has in her bag to get information?" His question came out with less cynicism than he'd intended, but then it was hard to concentrate when her mouth... oh Christ, and his earlobe...

[bettercop]

Rather than answering him right away, she undid the button, and then the zipper, of his pants. Her mouth moved to his neck, then, licking delicately across the skin.

And then she slid his pants down his legs, lifting up her dress and grinding against him.

"Guess that's a chance you've gotta take."

[hadtobe_said]

"Jesus, Mary and Joseph." She wasn't wearing anything under the dress, her body warm and wet against his skin, her entrance so tantalizing close. it was a good thing that he didn't really have a reason to distrust her, because no way was he strong enough to say no to what was being offered.

"Gotta take," he repeated. He contemplated turning them around and pushing her onto the desk, covering her as completely as he could. It had merit, enough so that he was sure to have more than one dream about it, but this was her show, and she was the one in control. The desk was fortunately clear, probably her doing, and he slid back until he was sitting on the edge. He pulled her up onto his lap and waited to see what she did next.