amop-series #14#
/DUMB LUCK/
Andrew Flynn came across Sharon Raydor in the lounge area of the cafeteria on the second floor after having spent a good fifteen minutes trying to locate her elusive whereabouts. She was reading a newspaper and enjoying what looked like a cappuccino, sitting in the sofa closest to the wide window, her face serene and her posture relaxed.
Andy sat down next to her with a big grin, trying his hardest to not clap his hands together in glee.
“Did someone call for the bomb squad?” he paused and then with his arms spread out wide, “I’m here to safely deliver you from the deadly grasp of boring news; any second now I’m sure all that paper is about to explode.”
Sharon looked at him; a confused and rather dumbfounded expression that quickly turned into amused smugness, eyes sparkling.
Andy couldn’t help but smile back even if he was going for a serious expression.
“Bomb squad?” Sharon repeated and even her voice was tingling with warmth as she took him in from top to toe, an arched eyebrow at the half hazmat suit.
“Someone said there was a situation in the cafeteria,” Andy joked, keeping his voice grave and low, “and I can see now, they meant you are in dire need of a bomb check,” he waggled his eyebrows, “I am qualified to check you out, Ma’am.”
Sharon pursed her lips, “Is this some sort of roleplaying fantasy you are acting out - like the time you came to my office in your undercover Gartner gear?”
“Ma’am,” Andy said with a straight face, ignoring her sarcastic comment, “I don’t role-play. I am the defense between you and the dangerous world we live in; my sources tell me you are dangerously close to a paper cut,” Andy took the newspaper out of her hands, careful of keeping it a safe distance from himself and then he threw it onto the sofa table with a puff of air as if it had been extremely heavy.
Sharon eyed him as she crossed her arms “You are a riot today, I can tell.”
“I’m always a riot,” Andy grinned back.
“You done playing war games and now you have nothing to do but annoy me? Have all the testosterone gone to your head, is that it? Or are you just dehydrated and in a state of delirium?”
Andy nodded with a cheerful smile, “Oh yeah - what a blast it is, war games. I don’t think I’ve sweated as much since fucking Sergeant Baskin put me through the hoops at the academy,” he pulled at the hazmat suit he still had on, tied around his waist so he could at least breathe - the grey LAPD t-shirt he had on still feeling damp from being in the closed suit for a whole day.
“What are you wearing underneath it?” Sharon said with a suspicious smile, looking at his lower body covered in the heavy suit, “Boxers or briefs?” She gave him a sly look from beneath lashes, her smile lazy.
“You don’t wanna know,” Andy complained, “It’s like fucking Sahara down under - I feel like I’ve been in a sweat tent for days on end.”
Sharon smiled crookedly as she eyed him, her eyes alight with amusement, “You should go to the gym more often, lieutenant.”
“You inviting me to come along to a work-out with you?” he asked, deliberately leaning towards her, eyes on her white silk blouse; it was thin and he could detect the outline of her chest easily, the swell of her breasts beneath the flimsy material. Shit, she did look rather fancy today he thought, the pearly blouse and a black skirt that was a teeny bit shorter than normal - her favorite pair of black Manolo’s.
Sharon shook her head and Andy noticed she had earrings on as well. “I’m telling you that you should work up a sweat more often, lieutenant,” her mouth twitched and she gingerly patted his shoulder.
“Again with the innuendo,” Andy smirked, ”Are you inviting me to a nightly round of bed games, Captain? Because in that case, I’m not declining.”
“Maybe - when you are in better shape,” she joked, crossing her legs as she regarded him.
“Ouch,” Andy pouted, “You wound me. I’m in a great shape,” he paused and with a lowered voice, “I can show you shape, alright.”
Sharon shook her head, “Why are you here?”
“Don’t you just find me roguishly handsome now that I’m in the LAPD counter-terrorism bureau? It’s positively bad boy-ish, wouldn’t you say?”
“You are always a bad boy,” Sharon said with a dry voice.
Andy pouted.
Sharon relented, “Yes, honey, you are handsome indeed. I’m especially admiring the sweat on your brow.” She smiled with a pointed look, “oh god, and your damp grey t-shirt is giving me a lot of unsavory thoughts.”
“Hey, you try waddling around in this ridiculous sweat tent of a suit for an entire day and you would be all sweaty too, honey.”
Sharon smiled, her eyes bright, “I’m sorry, you look adorable,” she paused. “Is that enough? Am I allowed to read the newspaper now or do you need me to stroke your ego a bit more?”
Andy leaned close and then puffed out with a breath, “You can stroke me a bit more, yes please.”
Sharon rolled her eyes and then tried to reach around him to grab the newspaper; Andy barred her access, taking her wrists instead and giving her a pouty look, “C’mon - you’ve gotta entertain me.”
Sharon sighed, “Can’t you entertain yourself?”
Andy shook his head in the negative, pouting.
Sharon smiled, “You do look so adorable when you pout, lieutenant - I think you should do this more often, maybe people will feel less inclined to file reports against you.”
Andy shook his head, his lips pouted further in disbelief, “Adorable? I’m not adorable.”
Sharon giggled, “You are adorable.”
Andy sighed and let go of her wrists, “Teddy bears are adorable, Sharon. Butterflies and goddamn little cute babies are adorable. Homicide police officers in the counter-terrorism bureau are most certainly not adorable; we are fierce and raw.”
“Exactly, you are such a sweet teddy bear,” she patted his hazmat-suited thigh now.
“Goddamn, woman, that is not a compliment,” Andy roared, feigning annoyance.
Sharon compressed her lips and he was sure she was fighting down laughter now, “Lieutenant, if I was in any way attracted to men in the counter-terrorism bureau, you would be the first one I would call. Happy?”
Andy shook his head, “Not by a long shot.”
“You are very handsome,” she said around another suppressed laugh, “That do it for you?”
Andy continued to shake his head.
Sharon leaned closer and then clasped her hand around his forearm, “You've got a great biceps,” she cooed, her fingers massaging his muscles.
Andy smiled back, “Oh, you are making me blush now, careful - I might just invite you out to dinner.”
“I’m married.”
“You’re separated,” he told her, leaning closer to her as well.
Her eyes narrowed, “Whatever.”
“I just want you to be frank; are you seeing other bomb squad’s?” he whispered in feigned outrage, his lips inches from her ear now. He leaned back and caught her answering smile.
“Yes - they come and go.”
Andy looked to the ceiling, “You are destroying me.”
Sharon shook her head, “To be honest, I’ve never thought I would be this amused by budget cuts.”
“Oh you just wait till you see the tape from our ‘drill’ in the murder room; fucking hilarious.”
Sharon quirked an inquisitive eyebrow, “What drill?”
Andy smiled, “A bimbo and her hitman and a little idiot OCD valet got into it, we all had to jump in - one big disaster. It counted as our counter-terrorism-practice-catastrophe however, so I’m not complaining. I’m having security send me a tape of the whole thing; we can watch it together, if you like.”
Sharon laughed, “Is this one of your underhanded ways of asking me to have dinner with you?
“Yes,” he replied - and he meant it seriously.
“Your place - or mine?”
“Yours,” he answered.
“So,” she drew the word out, “in reality you are inviting yourself to dinner.”
“You know me, always the gentleman.”
She shook her head and then she leaned across him and took her newspaper from the table; “Why don’t you go fetch yourself a cappuccino - on my account,” she waved him away to the cafeteria.
Andy got up with a long sigh, feigning a lot of suffering, “You just want to see me walk in this stupid attire.”
She tilted her head back, eyes on him with humor, “You got it, Mister.”
Andy waddled up to the cafeteria bar and paid for a double cappuccino; he looked back over his shoulder and found Sharon waving at him with a smirk.
He gave her a little bow in return, laughing when she had to hide her face behind the paper.
With his coffee in hand he crossed back, set the cup on the table and then threw himself back in the sofa, blowing at Sharon’s newspaper till she became sufficiently annoyed and regarded him instead of the paper.
“My god,” she exclaimed, a little narrowed look in his direction.
“I’m bored,” Andy sighed.
She rolled her eyes and took a long sip from her cappuccino, eyes on him.
“It’s briefs,” Andy said to her, feigning innocence as he sipped coffee, looking at her over the rim of the cup.
She tilted her head, “I know.”
“How?” Andy asked, confused.
“I could see the outline when you walked.”
“You were checking out my ass,” he laughed goofily.
She raised one eyebrow, “I thought it was my turn seeing you never do anything but stare at mine.”
“Touché,” Andy admitted, clinking his coffee cup gently against hers.
…
Gawd; they are quite ridiculous, aren’t they? ;)
Andrew Flynn came across Sharon Raydor in the lounge area of the cafeteria on the second floor after having spent a good fifteen minutes trying to locate her elusive whereabouts. She was reading a newspaper and enjoying what looked like a cappuccino, sitting in the sofa closest to the wide window, her face serene and her posture relaxed.
Andy sat down next to her with a big grin, trying his hardest to not clap his hands together in glee.
“Did someone call for the bomb squad?” he paused and then with his arms spread out wide, “I’m here to safely deliver you from the deadly grasp of boring news; any second now I’m sure all that paper is about to explode.”
Sharon looked at him; a confused and rather dumbfounded expression that quickly turned into amused smugness, eyes sparkling.
Andy couldn’t help but smile back even if he was going for a serious expression.
“Bomb squad?” Sharon repeated and even her voice was tingling with warmth as she took him in from top to toe, an arched eyebrow at the half hazmat suit.
“Someone said there was a situation in the cafeteria,” Andy joked, keeping his voice grave and low, “and I can see now, they meant you are in dire need of a bomb check,” he waggled his eyebrows, “I am qualified to check you out, Ma’am.”
Sharon pursed her lips, “Is this some sort of roleplaying fantasy you are acting out - like the time you came to my office in your undercover Gartner gear?”
“Ma’am,” Andy said with a straight face, ignoring her sarcastic comment, “I don’t role-play. I am the defense between you and the dangerous world we live in; my sources tell me you are dangerously close to a paper cut,” Andy took the newspaper out of her hands, careful of keeping it a safe distance from himself and then he threw it onto the sofa table with a puff of air as if it had been extremely heavy.
Sharon eyed him as she crossed her arms “You are a riot today, I can tell.”
“I’m always a riot,” Andy grinned back.
“You done playing war games and now you have nothing to do but annoy me? Have all the testosterone gone to your head, is that it? Or are you just dehydrated and in a state of delirium?”
Andy nodded with a cheerful smile, “Oh yeah - what a blast it is, war games. I don’t think I’ve sweated as much since fucking Sergeant Baskin put me through the hoops at the academy,” he pulled at the hazmat suit he still had on, tied around his waist so he could at least breathe - the grey LAPD t-shirt he had on still feeling damp from being in the closed suit for a whole day.
“What are you wearing underneath it?” Sharon said with a suspicious smile, looking at his lower body covered in the heavy suit, “Boxers or briefs?” She gave him a sly look from beneath lashes, her smile lazy.
“You don’t wanna know,” Andy complained, “It’s like fucking Sahara down under - I feel like I’ve been in a sweat tent for days on end.”
Sharon smiled crookedly as she eyed him, her eyes alight with amusement, “You should go to the gym more often, lieutenant.”
“You inviting me to come along to a work-out with you?” he asked, deliberately leaning towards her, eyes on her white silk blouse; it was thin and he could detect the outline of her chest easily, the swell of her breasts beneath the flimsy material. Shit, she did look rather fancy today he thought, the pearly blouse and a black skirt that was a teeny bit shorter than normal - her favorite pair of black Manolo’s.
Sharon shook her head and Andy noticed she had earrings on as well. “I’m telling you that you should work up a sweat more often, lieutenant,” her mouth twitched and she gingerly patted his shoulder.
“Again with the innuendo,” Andy smirked, ”Are you inviting me to a nightly round of bed games, Captain? Because in that case, I’m not declining.”
“Maybe - when you are in better shape,” she joked, crossing her legs as she regarded him.
“Ouch,” Andy pouted, “You wound me. I’m in a great shape,” he paused and with a lowered voice, “I can show you shape, alright.”
Sharon shook her head, “Why are you here?”
“Don’t you just find me roguishly handsome now that I’m in the LAPD counter-terrorism bureau? It’s positively bad boy-ish, wouldn’t you say?”
“You are always a bad boy,” Sharon said with a dry voice.
Andy pouted.
Sharon relented, “Yes, honey, you are handsome indeed. I’m especially admiring the sweat on your brow.” She smiled with a pointed look, “oh god, and your damp grey t-shirt is giving me a lot of unsavory thoughts.”
“Hey, you try waddling around in this ridiculous sweat tent of a suit for an entire day and you would be all sweaty too, honey.”
Sharon smiled, her eyes bright, “I’m sorry, you look adorable,” she paused. “Is that enough? Am I allowed to read the newspaper now or do you need me to stroke your ego a bit more?”
Andy leaned close and then puffed out with a breath, “You can stroke me a bit more, yes please.”
Sharon rolled her eyes and then tried to reach around him to grab the newspaper; Andy barred her access, taking her wrists instead and giving her a pouty look, “C’mon - you’ve gotta entertain me.”
Sharon sighed, “Can’t you entertain yourself?”
Andy shook his head in the negative, pouting.
Sharon smiled, “You do look so adorable when you pout, lieutenant - I think you should do this more often, maybe people will feel less inclined to file reports against you.”
Andy shook his head, his lips pouted further in disbelief, “Adorable? I’m not adorable.”
Sharon giggled, “You are adorable.”
Andy sighed and let go of her wrists, “Teddy bears are adorable, Sharon. Butterflies and goddamn little cute babies are adorable. Homicide police officers in the counter-terrorism bureau are most certainly not adorable; we are fierce and raw.”
“Exactly, you are such a sweet teddy bear,” she patted his hazmat-suited thigh now.
“Goddamn, woman, that is not a compliment,” Andy roared, feigning annoyance.
Sharon compressed her lips and he was sure she was fighting down laughter now, “Lieutenant, if I was in any way attracted to men in the counter-terrorism bureau, you would be the first one I would call. Happy?”
Andy shook his head, “Not by a long shot.”
“You are very handsome,” she said around another suppressed laugh, “That do it for you?”
Andy continued to shake his head.
Sharon leaned closer and then clasped her hand around his forearm, “You've got a great biceps,” she cooed, her fingers massaging his muscles.
Andy smiled back, “Oh, you are making me blush now, careful - I might just invite you out to dinner.”
“I’m married.”
“You’re separated,” he told her, leaning closer to her as well.
Her eyes narrowed, “Whatever.”
“I just want you to be frank; are you seeing other bomb squad’s?” he whispered in feigned outrage, his lips inches from her ear now. He leaned back and caught her answering smile.
“Yes - they come and go.”
Andy looked to the ceiling, “You are destroying me.”
Sharon shook her head, “To be honest, I’ve never thought I would be this amused by budget cuts.”
“Oh you just wait till you see the tape from our ‘drill’ in the murder room; fucking hilarious.”
Sharon quirked an inquisitive eyebrow, “What drill?”
Andy smiled, “A bimbo and her hitman and a little idiot OCD valet got into it, we all had to jump in - one big disaster. It counted as our counter-terrorism-practice-catastrophe however, so I’m not complaining. I’m having security send me a tape of the whole thing; we can watch it together, if you like.”
Sharon laughed, “Is this one of your underhanded ways of asking me to have dinner with you?
“Yes,” he replied - and he meant it seriously.
“Your place - or mine?”
“Yours,” he answered.
“So,” she drew the word out, “in reality you are inviting yourself to dinner.”
“You know me, always the gentleman.”
She shook her head and then she leaned across him and took her newspaper from the table; “Why don’t you go fetch yourself a cappuccino - on my account,” she waved him away to the cafeteria.
Andy got up with a long sigh, feigning a lot of suffering, “You just want to see me walk in this stupid attire.”
She tilted her head back, eyes on him with humor, “You got it, Mister.”
Andy waddled up to the cafeteria bar and paid for a double cappuccino; he looked back over his shoulder and found Sharon waving at him with a smirk.
He gave her a little bow in return, laughing when she had to hide her face behind the paper.
With his coffee in hand he crossed back, set the cup on the table and then threw himself back in the sofa, blowing at Sharon’s newspaper till she became sufficiently annoyed and regarded him instead of the paper.
“My god,” she exclaimed, a little narrowed look in his direction.
“I’m bored,” Andy sighed.
She rolled her eyes and took a long sip from her cappuccino, eyes on him.
“It’s briefs,” Andy said to her, feigning innocence as he sipped coffee, looking at her over the rim of the cup.
She tilted her head, “I know.”
“How?” Andy asked, confused.
“I could see the outline when you walked.”
“You were checking out my ass,” he laughed goofily.
She raised one eyebrow, “I thought it was my turn seeing you never do anything but stare at mine.”
“Touché,” Andy admitted, clinking his coffee cup gently against hers.
…
Gawd; they are quite ridiculous, aren’t they? ;)