Attempts to find a Quiet Place in the Eye of the Porn *Robin- pov, Don, Billy, Don/Robin; PG-13/K*
Title: Attempts to find a Quiet Place in the Eye of the Porn
Series: Ulysses *11/12*
Universe: Odyssey
Author: loozy
Characters: Robin- pov, Don, Billy; Don/Robin
Rating: PG-13/K
Summary: She loves to do that when Don is unaware of her scrutiny and with his guard down.
Word Count: 4600
Spoilers: after 5x23, Angels & Devils
Notes: Words cannot express how grateful I am to valeriev84...
Prompt: # 28 Chemistry
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters mentioned in this fic. Numb3rs and everybody associated with it belong to Cheryl Heuton & Nick Fallucci and CBS. IronMan belongs to Marvel Comics and Stan Lee. Rovert Downey, Jr belongs to himself.
Feedback: Yes, please. I love every kind of review, even the bad ones, as long as they are helpful and constructive.
On Sunday, Alan invites them for lunch.
Charlie and Amita are back from whatever retreat they went to, so it is going to be the whole family, plus Billy. It fills Robin with a very girly giddiness that she is considered family by Alan. She has known it before, in a way, from how he and Charlie behave towards her, but to actually hear it is another thing entirely.
He calls them on Saturday evening while they are preparing dinner together. Billy is chopping up avocado, onions, tomatoes and all kinds of spice plants that they got at the farmer’s market two blocks down from the apartment. Don is boiling the pasta and sautéing the tomatoes and onions with garlic that make up the alio olio of their meal.
Robin is watching them, amused at the fact that she was kicked out of the small kitchen by the two men who insisted that they are able to make dinner on their own. They told her to entertain them while they are cooking but so far the iPod playing has been enough. They even dance around and sing. It is all very very amusing and she has to fight to keep from laughing out loud. She knows Don and Billy are aware of her, and she loves that they are comfortable enough with her around to do these kind of silly shenanigans.
It is also always good to see Don relaxed enough to actually be silly.
She simply cannot get rid of those mental images of both Don and Billy taking care of her… One would think that Don was not enough for her, which he is, she is quite satisfied with him, thank you very much...
What the hell is going on with her then?
Maybe it is just her true naughty nature emerging, the one that her sisters always claimed to have known of.
Hmm.
She is distracted by Queen’s Don’t Stop Me Now which causes Don and Billy to start singing at the top of their lungs, quite off- key, but with so much zeal that she is soon hanging off the door frame, tears forming in her eyes. Don uses that to catch her off- guard, grabbing her by the hips and swinging her around in his arms. She can see Billy grabbing his ever- present digital camera and taking a couple of photos and she hopes that she will never forget this moment.
After Queen, Beyonce’s Halo plays, which first earns her a dirty look from her boyfriend because she has been messing with his iPod again, and then Billy and he break out into the most awful fake hiphop- dance sequence imaginable.
She actually has to race to the toilet to make it unless she wants to pee herself.
From the swears she can hear while washing her hands, the men, or mainly Don, forgot about the pan and the pot on the stove and the lovely smell of burnt water reaches her. Luckily nothing much has happened, but they are a bit subdued now, only growling in response to the singer’s higher reaching notes, which is still funny enough.
It is even funnier that they both know the lyrics. At least Billy has the excuse of his niece playing that song often enough for him when they talked, but Don? No, she cannot think of a reason why he should know the song, other than listening to her sing it. He had been more than amused when she had turned the radio up louder. R’n’B is not really her style, but for some reason that song touched her.
Anyways.
Eventually, the food is nearly done and while Don is setting the table, she uses his moment of distraction to exchange their mp3- players. His taste in music is all right, but she feels her music is better suited to the light mood of the evening. Not that his is all depressing but there is only so much Led Zeppelin, The Who and Ramones she can take.
The food is very good, proving to her that Don can actually cook when he puts his mind to it. Billy’s ability is not so much of a surprise since he told her that he actually took cooking classes together with his twin sister during their last year in high school. She had wanted to impress her future husband and blackmailed her brother into going with her so that she would not be alone.
Robin had asked, of course, what the blackmail material had consisted of, but Billy had not answered.
She still wants to find out the answer to that question. She just needs to find a way to go about it.
Saturday night is unspectacular. They eat, they mess around, chat, and she is thoroughly enjoying herself. After last night’s angst fest, this is exactly what they all need, what the purpose of Billy’s visit was, to have them reconnect and to give her a glimpse into what Don was like before he came back to Los Angeles.
The banter is light- hearted, the beer, wine and Campari flow freely and at around midnight they have the crazy idea to watch Iron Man, which has her containing herself.
Oh, the glee.
Oh, the tension.
She ends up lying in between them, sandwiched quite neatly, though leaning more towards Don, his shoulder, actually, and on the screen you have Robert Downey, Jr, what more does a girl want?
A threesome, apparently, because her thoughts are having fun with her libido again.
A foursome, to be correct, and where did that one come from again?
She groans softly and buries her face in Don’s shirt to which he snickers and pats her head. She stares at the screen again and sees that at the moment she had been groaning, Iron Man was not wearing his shirt.
Oh God!
She really needs to contain herself until Billy is in the other room, and then she will have her way with Don. Oh yes, she will. He will not be able to resist her.
After the film she more or less kicks Billy out and wakes up a snoozing Don by kissing her way up and down his chest, flicking his nipples here and there.
He startles awake from the doze he slipped into when the long day started catching up with him and it takes him a moment to realize what is happening before he starts to participate.
******
Now, Sunday morning, eleven am, she is lying in bed with Don by her side, half his face covered by the pillow he always manages to burrow under even if he starts off with sleeping on top of it. One night she will have a video camera record how he does it. He is dead to the world and she is content. Her boyfriend is not wrapped around her like in a cheesy film or novel, neither of them are big on cuddling when actually sleeping, preferring their own space, so that gives her ample chance to observe him.
She loves to do that when he is unaware of her scrutiny and with his guard down.
His brow is not furrowed, his mouth not turned down, but rather slightly open, little breaths escaping in puffs, he is not quite snoring, more like whistling. The hair on the side he slept on will be flat whereas the other will be laden with electricity once he gets the pillow off it. The lashes flutter now and again and his brows waggle a bit and she has to grin when his nose scrunches up. It is such a Don- movement to do when asleep and she hopes that their child will do that, too.
It is too adorable.
And also hot.
The hand not clutching the comforter to his body is lying lax on the sheets, open with the fingers slightly bent. She loves his fingers, they are a piano- player’s fingers even if he has not played in a while. He does not have the time to do so.
Those fingers can do things that other men have tried and failed at before. One more reason to love him, on a purely shallow note. The sex is mind- blowingly fantastic.
Those fingers that hold a gun and fire it on a daily basis but also do a fairly bad impression of a chicken scratch when forced to write anything are rough with callouses from years of not only handling weapons but also baseball bats and hockey sticks. Whenever they hold hands, his are rough against her slightly softer palms. Rowing has left its marks on her, too, and she cannot count the number of times her blisters roughened up and scarred over.
He loves that about her hands, has told her so often enough, that they are not the typical woman’s hands.
The comforter is down by his hips and she can see the scar rise up towards his chest and swallows.
It is a big thing, given that the injury itself was not that huge, but they had to widen it for surgery on the internal organs that were damaged and now stands out starkly against his skin. She wants to touch it, did so when the bandages first came off to reassure herself that he is still here, with her.
This is what that attack has done to her.
She needs to see and hold him whenever he is close. He, in turn, does not seem to mind, sometimes she feels as if he needs to contact as much as she does, and not all of it is in a sexual context. He is re- evaluating things now, his job, how much it means to him, and he has even breached the topic of a desk job with her, even though she has nixed that idea.
Yes, she would rest easier knowing that he is away from the danger, but she also knows that if he makes this decision now based solely on the injury, he will not be content. He will figure it out, and she will be there for him.
Her hand ghosts over the scar and up his strong chest, to his slightly hardened nipples. His erogenous zone, one of the first things she ever discovered about his preferences in bed. It just shows how well they fit together, the same goes for her, too.
Her eyes come back to the scar.
In the beginning, it had terrified her to the core because it was proof that despite all his efficiency, professionalism and skill, Don was still human, could still die. For whatever reason she had never owned up to that fact until the attack shoved it right in her face.
She would have preferred to be able to ignore it, to have the attack not happen.
That phone call she had received during the conference had shattered the illusion of the safe and sound world she had felt so comfortable in. Outwardly, she is still the same woman, cool, calm and collected, the three ‘c’s of composure’ as her mother had called them. They had been instilled into Robin and her sisters from the moment they were old enough to understand words.
Such patterns are hard to break, but for Don Robin finds herself defying lessons she has known all her life.
There is another set of c’s.
Callous. Cunning. Cruel.
It has taken her some time to get rid of that set. Harvard was the first step, out from under the scrutiny of her mother, she was able to understand that the male population is not out to get the female population; to steal their freedom and independence.
She loves her mother, but that does not mean she has to agree with the woman.
As she slowly trails a hand up into Don’s hair, she wonders how the two of them would get along.
She does doubt it in a way, simply because they are such opposing characters, and her mother can be overbearing, especially when it comes to her daughters. Sometimes Robin has wondered if her mother married the wrong man and so decided to try and stop her daughters from making the same mistake.
Only she cannot see what is wrong with her father. He is a lovely man, patient and kind, maybe a bit conservative in his world views, but she loves him. He is kind of like Alan, always there with a listening ear and probably the only person bar her younger sister, who was alright with her moving to Los Angeles when she was offered the position of AUSA here. It is a bit like fate, isn’t it, when she considers it in retrospect.
Don Eppes and her moved to Los Angeles in the same year, if for different reasons.
Still, she would like to have Don meet them, if simply to show him that she has a family, too. He might think she does not should she continue to withhold them from him.
Haha.
She knows he knows better than that. They just need to find a weekend to get away together, with a real reason, and not a reason, like what she tried with New York. She still cringes over what she attempted to do back then.
Not her best moment.
Dark hazy eyes blink up at her when her fingers trace his brow. Seconds after waking, Don is different from the Don she knows and loves.
He is softer, not guarded, cute and also very cuddly, kind of like a teddy bear. Only without the big teeth and massive body. Don’s teeth are white and shiny and his body is muscular, strong and not as fuzzy as a bear’s, either.
She likes it that way, it is perfect.
“Mornin’.”
Don in the morning is also not the most articulate person, something they have in common, preferring to speak in monosyllabic grunts that are meant to be words before he gets his first cup of coffee.
For her, if he is in a good mood, he makes an effort to actually speak coherently, though.
“Morning.”
“How long you been awake?”
“Not long.”
She brushes over his forehead, smoothes out the wrinkles that form when he glances over at the clock. It is a bit too early to be awake on a Sunday when they have nothing to do, really, and she knows it. She also knows a very effective way to get them both back to sleep.
Don in the morning is also very horny and after lightning speed- trips to the bedroom, they get to work on getting back to sleep in a fun way.
******
When they finally rouse, it is already half past twelve and the sun has risen to bathe the apartment in a warm glowing light. Billy is in the kitchen, trying to manage Don’s coffeemaker which they renamed LiLo, after Lindsay Lohan for its stoned and irratic behaviour and lack of direction.
You can press coffee on the damn thing and get lemons, is what Don always says, yet he still has not gotten rid of the abomination yet. It seems as if he is attached to it, for some reason. If Robin was a woman with less self- confidence and knowledge of Don, she would suspect him of fancying Lohan, which he does not, if his disgusted moaning whenever he sees her is any indication.
“Don, how the fuck do you work this fucking thing?”
Clearly, Billy is not a morning person, either, without his caffeine shot.
Don just grins, grabs the kettle and fills it with water before turning to his friend and then points to the damned machinery.
“Billy, LiLo. LiLo, Billy.”
“LiLo?”
“After Lindsay Lohan.”
“The fuck you naming that thing after that fuckin’ pseudo actress?”
“’cuz it’s a bitchy piece of shit. That’s why we named it LiLo.”
“Ah, makes sense. So we’re having instant?”
“Yes. Didn’t you get any yesterday, too?”
Robin pushes off the door frame where she has been lounging, and walks over to the ‘fridge to set the table for breakfast.
“No, yesterday it worked.”
“Yeah, well, she is a bitch, that’s how she got the name.”
“And how exactly would you know about that woman anyways, Eppes?”
Don smirks, then points to Robin.
“Girlfriend. And trashy magazines. And what do ‘ya got to say for yourself, Billy- boy?”
“Sister with children. And trashy magazines.”
As they banter on about everything and nothing, starting with what they’re having for breakfast, then moving on to how they are having the eggs they settled on, Robin sits down at the table, sipping her coffee and watching those two very fine specimen walk around in the kitchen.
Or maybe it is more like parading, in a way.
Neither of them walk, both of them can apparently pull off a strut if they want to. She knew this about Don already, knew that he rarely walks without purpose, which shows in his stride, but Billy was a blank sheet. Until now.
Now she can see him swing his hips when he opens the ‘fridge door to get butter and bacon, his lean built emphasized by the basketball shorts he is sporting over the boxers that are peaking out from underneath. She is not sure if he is teasing her, but is willing to go along with it for the sake of her fantasies.
Don is another matter.
Contrary to popular belief around the water cooler, spiced up by pseudo knowledge supplied by Nadine, he does not sleep in the nude, always moving to at least pull on a pair of boxers even after sex. Now, he is dressed in a pair of sweats and nothing underneath as the nights have gotten chilly and she needs him to warm her. It is sweet that he is willing to be her very personal furnace. They do not even need to cuddle for him to heat up the blankets and everything around him. Every time he moves, his sweats glide over his ass and Robin is practically salivating by the time he bends down to retrieve the grill from the oven.
She really would like to jump him right now, this very moment, and would not even care if Billy was watching, or maybe even participating.
Now there is a nice thought that she has been playing with for the last couple of hours, actually since Friday evening, to be honest, and maybe she should have a talk with Don about the possibility of a threesome?
It might be hot, and she knows that she can make Don do nearly everything that is not job- related.
If that is not devotion, she does not know what is, and surely that should out him into her mother’s good book should she know about this, right?
Maybe, but first Robin would have to tell her who she is dating.
Her father knows his way around law enforcement, what with having been a judge at the Massachusetts Supreme Court and still has his ears out for news, especially in the FBI. Robin is very sure he knows Don, and probably even Billy, since they were both living in Boston during their FR- time, and her father always knew who and what was going on in her hometown.
And that is also one way to kill a mood, thinking about the parents.
But then again, that mood vanishes, anyways, the moment that Billy actually slaps Don’s ass when the other man is stretching up to get something from the pantry.
What the Hell?
All she can do is stare and fight with herself to not Not NOT moan out loud.
That would be a very bad idea. Very very very bad.
All she can see now, in constant repeat and in slow motion to boot, is the image of Billy smirking, swinging his hand and then landing a perfect smack on Don’s bottom, something that she herself has tried multiple times to do but has always failed.
Is that a sign?
Maybe Don needs his ass to be slapped by Billy on a regular basis, and maybe she could learn something from watching it again and again? She does not mean the mental video, but the real - life version. That would be lovely, really.
She really would like to have some downtime with the two guys right now, read them the riot act for teasing her like this and then have her wicked way with them.
Maybe it would be better for her sanity to think about her parents.
Which would mean she would be missing out on whatever show the guys are putting up and is she insane?
Maybe, yes, that is debatable, but she is sane enough to not not appreciate a sight like this.
And thank God that neither Don nor Billy are paying any attention to her. If they had been throwing her looks, she might have suspected them of playing with her, but they are in their element, having found their groove back, and why in crikey fuck are they playing around like that?
On a completely unrelated note, where did that Tropic Thunder- reference come from, anyways? She wants to smack Don on the back of the head for quoting it when in private. Why did he have to make her watch it again? Or actually it was the other way around. Together with Iron Man. It is a good thing that he never said anything when she subjected him to a row of movies in the last couple of weeks all starring the same actor… Hmm… On that note, Robert Downey, Jr and Don? Wow, very nice imagery, too…
Maybe she should go for a run.
Yes, a run sounds like an excellent idea, she can get rid of all the tension inside her, and if she could she would take Don with her to help her relieve some of that tension in a hidden area in the park…
It is not like they have not done that before, you know?
Her thoughts are disrupted by Don placing a plate of scrambled eggs with scallions and tomatoes in front of her, together with a cup of spicy tea, a combination which she loves to have. She wants to thank him, she does, but then she gets distracted by a fleck of something nestled in the chest hair near his right nipple and all she wants to do is flick her lips over it again and again until it is gone.
And then maybe some more for good measure, just to be sure he is clean and because he loves it, and the sounds he makes when she sucks his nipples?
Oh yeah, baby, that is audio porn right then and there.
Plus, he opens his mouth a little and these little puffs of breath come out and his lips are forming this beautiful bowshape that just makes her want to kiss him senseless once she has let off the nipples.
But no, they are not alone, so she just settles on smiling at him and then picking at the something with her fingers, and if she tugs a bit at the hair to get a reaction out of him, well, so be it.
He just smirks at her, as if he knows exactly what is going through her mind and when she glances down she just glares at his lower half.
That man has to have the best self- control ever known to mankind.
She wants to hit him over the head with her full plate and then clean him up with her tongue before killing him slowly during sex, but alas, they have company, and if he can behave, then so can she.
She hopes.
Her hormones laugh at her and tell her to just give up and give in.
As they eat breakfast, conversation flows easily, and apparently she is part of it, too, though later she will not be able to remember a single thing.
Robin feels as though she has the classic image of a devilish figurine on one shoulder and an angelic one on the other, and both are warring for dominance.
The fake devil looks a lot like her mother, while the other looks like Don. A shrink, Don’s shrink, preferably, she likes the man, would have a field day with that image, especially what with her mixing up the sexual designation, the devil as a woman and the angel as a man.
Or maybe she should never have watched Dogma. Her whole religious views have been a bit askew since then.
The devil- Mom and angel- Don are now fighting for dominance over her head, her thoughts, her imagination and she really hopes that Don wins because that might bode well for a possible future meeting between the two real life- people.
He can be quite diplomatic once he has set his mind to it, and for her he would make the effort, she is sure.
Somehow she gets through breakfast and the washing- up, which she does not have to do, because the two men can be quite gentleman- ly, too, and besides, Don likes his dishes done just this way, exactly, and while she is good for drying them, she is not the right person to wash them.
He can be anal that way.
And why, why did she just think of anal when she went for a whole four minutes, repeat: four minutes, without thinking of sex with Don?
Thank God Billy is a good reader of people’s emotions and he retreats into his room with this huge gigantic smirk on his face while Don and her go to the bedroom, hands already going places that would make Billy’s sister Katherine surely blush from head to toe.
She needs to get rid of all this horniness before they head over to Alan’s.
Don is more than willing to help her with her ‘problem’.
That is at least one problem taken care of.
******
They lie in bed after, her head resting on Don’s slightly sweaty chest, and Robin is nearly lulled into sleep by his rhythmic stroking of her hair.
She loves what he does to her before, during, but also after sex, because no- one has ever managed to relax her so fully that she just wants to melt into a puddle beneath his hands.
“I don’t think Charlie and Billy are gonna get along.”
And just like that, she is not sleepy anymore.
“Why do you think that?”
“Because… I dunno… Billy has never liked him.”
“Did they ever meet?”
“Only that one time when Billy came to LA to help us with a case, but they didn’t hang out, you know? There’s this kinda strange tension between them… Just, you know…”
His worry- vein has come out. She reaches a hand up to stroke it.
“Everything’s gonna be okay. They’re big boys, they can work it out, whatever it is.”
“I hope so. But I don’t think Charlie likes Billy, either, really dislikes him, you know?
“Well, then…”
She actually does not know what to say to that.
“Tension.”
“Yup.”
“This is gonna be fuuuuuuuuuuuuun.”
She draws out the word on purpose, hoping to make him laugh, chuckle, anything to elevate his mood, but all she gets is a weak lift of the lips.
“Yeah.”
She would believe him that he believes her if he had said it with more conviction.
As it is, she cannot help but feel like this is the calm before the storm.
Series: Ulysses *11/12*
Universe: Odyssey
Author: loozy
Characters: Robin- pov, Don, Billy; Don/Robin
Rating: PG-13/K
Summary: She loves to do that when Don is unaware of her scrutiny and with his guard down.
Word Count: 4600
Spoilers: after 5x23, Angels & Devils
Notes: Words cannot express how grateful I am to valeriev84...
Prompt: # 28 Chemistry
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters mentioned in this fic. Numb3rs and everybody associated with it belong to Cheryl Heuton & Nick Fallucci and CBS. IronMan belongs to Marvel Comics and Stan Lee. Rovert Downey, Jr belongs to himself.
Feedback: Yes, please. I love every kind of review, even the bad ones, as long as they are helpful and constructive.
On Sunday, Alan invites them for lunch.
Charlie and Amita are back from whatever retreat they went to, so it is going to be the whole family, plus Billy. It fills Robin with a very girly giddiness that she is considered family by Alan. She has known it before, in a way, from how he and Charlie behave towards her, but to actually hear it is another thing entirely.
He calls them on Saturday evening while they are preparing dinner together. Billy is chopping up avocado, onions, tomatoes and all kinds of spice plants that they got at the farmer’s market two blocks down from the apartment. Don is boiling the pasta and sautéing the tomatoes and onions with garlic that make up the alio olio of their meal.
Robin is watching them, amused at the fact that she was kicked out of the small kitchen by the two men who insisted that they are able to make dinner on their own. They told her to entertain them while they are cooking but so far the iPod playing has been enough. They even dance around and sing. It is all very very amusing and she has to fight to keep from laughing out loud. She knows Don and Billy are aware of her, and she loves that they are comfortable enough with her around to do these kind of silly shenanigans.
It is also always good to see Don relaxed enough to actually be silly.
She simply cannot get rid of those mental images of both Don and Billy taking care of her… One would think that Don was not enough for her, which he is, she is quite satisfied with him, thank you very much...
What the hell is going on with her then?
Maybe it is just her true naughty nature emerging, the one that her sisters always claimed to have known of.
Hmm.
She is distracted by Queen’s Don’t Stop Me Now which causes Don and Billy to start singing at the top of their lungs, quite off- key, but with so much zeal that she is soon hanging off the door frame, tears forming in her eyes. Don uses that to catch her off- guard, grabbing her by the hips and swinging her around in his arms. She can see Billy grabbing his ever- present digital camera and taking a couple of photos and she hopes that she will never forget this moment.
After Queen, Beyonce’s Halo plays, which first earns her a dirty look from her boyfriend because she has been messing with his iPod again, and then Billy and he break out into the most awful fake hiphop- dance sequence imaginable.
She actually has to race to the toilet to make it unless she wants to pee herself.
From the swears she can hear while washing her hands, the men, or mainly Don, forgot about the pan and the pot on the stove and the lovely smell of burnt water reaches her. Luckily nothing much has happened, but they are a bit subdued now, only growling in response to the singer’s higher reaching notes, which is still funny enough.
It is even funnier that they both know the lyrics. At least Billy has the excuse of his niece playing that song often enough for him when they talked, but Don? No, she cannot think of a reason why he should know the song, other than listening to her sing it. He had been more than amused when she had turned the radio up louder. R’n’B is not really her style, but for some reason that song touched her.
Anyways.
Eventually, the food is nearly done and while Don is setting the table, she uses his moment of distraction to exchange their mp3- players. His taste in music is all right, but she feels her music is better suited to the light mood of the evening. Not that his is all depressing but there is only so much Led Zeppelin, The Who and Ramones she can take.
The food is very good, proving to her that Don can actually cook when he puts his mind to it. Billy’s ability is not so much of a surprise since he told her that he actually took cooking classes together with his twin sister during their last year in high school. She had wanted to impress her future husband and blackmailed her brother into going with her so that she would not be alone.
Robin had asked, of course, what the blackmail material had consisted of, but Billy had not answered.
She still wants to find out the answer to that question. She just needs to find a way to go about it.
Saturday night is unspectacular. They eat, they mess around, chat, and she is thoroughly enjoying herself. After last night’s angst fest, this is exactly what they all need, what the purpose of Billy’s visit was, to have them reconnect and to give her a glimpse into what Don was like before he came back to Los Angeles.
The banter is light- hearted, the beer, wine and Campari flow freely and at around midnight they have the crazy idea to watch Iron Man, which has her containing herself.
Oh, the glee.
Oh, the tension.
She ends up lying in between them, sandwiched quite neatly, though leaning more towards Don, his shoulder, actually, and on the screen you have Robert Downey, Jr, what more does a girl want?
A threesome, apparently, because her thoughts are having fun with her libido again.
A foursome, to be correct, and where did that one come from again?
She groans softly and buries her face in Don’s shirt to which he snickers and pats her head. She stares at the screen again and sees that at the moment she had been groaning, Iron Man was not wearing his shirt.
Oh God!
She really needs to contain herself until Billy is in the other room, and then she will have her way with Don. Oh yes, she will. He will not be able to resist her.
After the film she more or less kicks Billy out and wakes up a snoozing Don by kissing her way up and down his chest, flicking his nipples here and there.
He startles awake from the doze he slipped into when the long day started catching up with him and it takes him a moment to realize what is happening before he starts to participate.
******
Now, Sunday morning, eleven am, she is lying in bed with Don by her side, half his face covered by the pillow he always manages to burrow under even if he starts off with sleeping on top of it. One night she will have a video camera record how he does it. He is dead to the world and she is content. Her boyfriend is not wrapped around her like in a cheesy film or novel, neither of them are big on cuddling when actually sleeping, preferring their own space, so that gives her ample chance to observe him.
She loves to do that when he is unaware of her scrutiny and with his guard down.
His brow is not furrowed, his mouth not turned down, but rather slightly open, little breaths escaping in puffs, he is not quite snoring, more like whistling. The hair on the side he slept on will be flat whereas the other will be laden with electricity once he gets the pillow off it. The lashes flutter now and again and his brows waggle a bit and she has to grin when his nose scrunches up. It is such a Don- movement to do when asleep and she hopes that their child will do that, too.
It is too adorable.
And also hot.
The hand not clutching the comforter to his body is lying lax on the sheets, open with the fingers slightly bent. She loves his fingers, they are a piano- player’s fingers even if he has not played in a while. He does not have the time to do so.
Those fingers can do things that other men have tried and failed at before. One more reason to love him, on a purely shallow note. The sex is mind- blowingly fantastic.
Those fingers that hold a gun and fire it on a daily basis but also do a fairly bad impression of a chicken scratch when forced to write anything are rough with callouses from years of not only handling weapons but also baseball bats and hockey sticks. Whenever they hold hands, his are rough against her slightly softer palms. Rowing has left its marks on her, too, and she cannot count the number of times her blisters roughened up and scarred over.
He loves that about her hands, has told her so often enough, that they are not the typical woman’s hands.
The comforter is down by his hips and she can see the scar rise up towards his chest and swallows.
It is a big thing, given that the injury itself was not that huge, but they had to widen it for surgery on the internal organs that were damaged and now stands out starkly against his skin. She wants to touch it, did so when the bandages first came off to reassure herself that he is still here, with her.
This is what that attack has done to her.
She needs to see and hold him whenever he is close. He, in turn, does not seem to mind, sometimes she feels as if he needs to contact as much as she does, and not all of it is in a sexual context. He is re- evaluating things now, his job, how much it means to him, and he has even breached the topic of a desk job with her, even though she has nixed that idea.
Yes, she would rest easier knowing that he is away from the danger, but she also knows that if he makes this decision now based solely on the injury, he will not be content. He will figure it out, and she will be there for him.
Her hand ghosts over the scar and up his strong chest, to his slightly hardened nipples. His erogenous zone, one of the first things she ever discovered about his preferences in bed. It just shows how well they fit together, the same goes for her, too.
Her eyes come back to the scar.
In the beginning, it had terrified her to the core because it was proof that despite all his efficiency, professionalism and skill, Don was still human, could still die. For whatever reason she had never owned up to that fact until the attack shoved it right in her face.
She would have preferred to be able to ignore it, to have the attack not happen.
That phone call she had received during the conference had shattered the illusion of the safe and sound world she had felt so comfortable in. Outwardly, she is still the same woman, cool, calm and collected, the three ‘c’s of composure’ as her mother had called them. They had been instilled into Robin and her sisters from the moment they were old enough to understand words.
Such patterns are hard to break, but for Don Robin finds herself defying lessons she has known all her life.
There is another set of c’s.
Callous. Cunning. Cruel.
It has taken her some time to get rid of that set. Harvard was the first step, out from under the scrutiny of her mother, she was able to understand that the male population is not out to get the female population; to steal their freedom and independence.
She loves her mother, but that does not mean she has to agree with the woman.
As she slowly trails a hand up into Don’s hair, she wonders how the two of them would get along.
She does doubt it in a way, simply because they are such opposing characters, and her mother can be overbearing, especially when it comes to her daughters. Sometimes Robin has wondered if her mother married the wrong man and so decided to try and stop her daughters from making the same mistake.
Only she cannot see what is wrong with her father. He is a lovely man, patient and kind, maybe a bit conservative in his world views, but she loves him. He is kind of like Alan, always there with a listening ear and probably the only person bar her younger sister, who was alright with her moving to Los Angeles when she was offered the position of AUSA here. It is a bit like fate, isn’t it, when she considers it in retrospect.
Don Eppes and her moved to Los Angeles in the same year, if for different reasons.
Still, she would like to have Don meet them, if simply to show him that she has a family, too. He might think she does not should she continue to withhold them from him.
Haha.
She knows he knows better than that. They just need to find a weekend to get away together, with a real reason, and not a reason, like what she tried with New York. She still cringes over what she attempted to do back then.
Not her best moment.
Dark hazy eyes blink up at her when her fingers trace his brow. Seconds after waking, Don is different from the Don she knows and loves.
He is softer, not guarded, cute and also very cuddly, kind of like a teddy bear. Only without the big teeth and massive body. Don’s teeth are white and shiny and his body is muscular, strong and not as fuzzy as a bear’s, either.
She likes it that way, it is perfect.
“Mornin’.”
Don in the morning is also not the most articulate person, something they have in common, preferring to speak in monosyllabic grunts that are meant to be words before he gets his first cup of coffee.
For her, if he is in a good mood, he makes an effort to actually speak coherently, though.
“Morning.”
“How long you been awake?”
“Not long.”
She brushes over his forehead, smoothes out the wrinkles that form when he glances over at the clock. It is a bit too early to be awake on a Sunday when they have nothing to do, really, and she knows it. She also knows a very effective way to get them both back to sleep.
Don in the morning is also very horny and after lightning speed- trips to the bedroom, they get to work on getting back to sleep in a fun way.
******
When they finally rouse, it is already half past twelve and the sun has risen to bathe the apartment in a warm glowing light. Billy is in the kitchen, trying to manage Don’s coffeemaker which they renamed LiLo, after Lindsay Lohan for its stoned and irratic behaviour and lack of direction.
You can press coffee on the damn thing and get lemons, is what Don always says, yet he still has not gotten rid of the abomination yet. It seems as if he is attached to it, for some reason. If Robin was a woman with less self- confidence and knowledge of Don, she would suspect him of fancying Lohan, which he does not, if his disgusted moaning whenever he sees her is any indication.
“Don, how the fuck do you work this fucking thing?”
Clearly, Billy is not a morning person, either, without his caffeine shot.
Don just grins, grabs the kettle and fills it with water before turning to his friend and then points to the damned machinery.
“Billy, LiLo. LiLo, Billy.”
“LiLo?”
“After Lindsay Lohan.”
“The fuck you naming that thing after that fuckin’ pseudo actress?”
“’cuz it’s a bitchy piece of shit. That’s why we named it LiLo.”
“Ah, makes sense. So we’re having instant?”
“Yes. Didn’t you get any yesterday, too?”
Robin pushes off the door frame where she has been lounging, and walks over to the ‘fridge to set the table for breakfast.
“No, yesterday it worked.”
“Yeah, well, she is a bitch, that’s how she got the name.”
“And how exactly would you know about that woman anyways, Eppes?”
Don smirks, then points to Robin.
“Girlfriend. And trashy magazines. And what do ‘ya got to say for yourself, Billy- boy?”
“Sister with children. And trashy magazines.”
As they banter on about everything and nothing, starting with what they’re having for breakfast, then moving on to how they are having the eggs they settled on, Robin sits down at the table, sipping her coffee and watching those two very fine specimen walk around in the kitchen.
Or maybe it is more like parading, in a way.
Neither of them walk, both of them can apparently pull off a strut if they want to. She knew this about Don already, knew that he rarely walks without purpose, which shows in his stride, but Billy was a blank sheet. Until now.
Now she can see him swing his hips when he opens the ‘fridge door to get butter and bacon, his lean built emphasized by the basketball shorts he is sporting over the boxers that are peaking out from underneath. She is not sure if he is teasing her, but is willing to go along with it for the sake of her fantasies.
Don is another matter.
Contrary to popular belief around the water cooler, spiced up by pseudo knowledge supplied by Nadine, he does not sleep in the nude, always moving to at least pull on a pair of boxers even after sex. Now, he is dressed in a pair of sweats and nothing underneath as the nights have gotten chilly and she needs him to warm her. It is sweet that he is willing to be her very personal furnace. They do not even need to cuddle for him to heat up the blankets and everything around him. Every time he moves, his sweats glide over his ass and Robin is practically salivating by the time he bends down to retrieve the grill from the oven.
She really would like to jump him right now, this very moment, and would not even care if Billy was watching, or maybe even participating.
Now there is a nice thought that she has been playing with for the last couple of hours, actually since Friday evening, to be honest, and maybe she should have a talk with Don about the possibility of a threesome?
It might be hot, and she knows that she can make Don do nearly everything that is not job- related.
If that is not devotion, she does not know what is, and surely that should out him into her mother’s good book should she know about this, right?
Maybe, but first Robin would have to tell her who she is dating.
Her father knows his way around law enforcement, what with having been a judge at the Massachusetts Supreme Court and still has his ears out for news, especially in the FBI. Robin is very sure he knows Don, and probably even Billy, since they were both living in Boston during their FR- time, and her father always knew who and what was going on in her hometown.
And that is also one way to kill a mood, thinking about the parents.
But then again, that mood vanishes, anyways, the moment that Billy actually slaps Don’s ass when the other man is stretching up to get something from the pantry.
What the Hell?
All she can do is stare and fight with herself to not Not NOT moan out loud.
That would be a very bad idea. Very very very bad.
All she can see now, in constant repeat and in slow motion to boot, is the image of Billy smirking, swinging his hand and then landing a perfect smack on Don’s bottom, something that she herself has tried multiple times to do but has always failed.
Is that a sign?
Maybe Don needs his ass to be slapped by Billy on a regular basis, and maybe she could learn something from watching it again and again? She does not mean the mental video, but the real - life version. That would be lovely, really.
She really would like to have some downtime with the two guys right now, read them the riot act for teasing her like this and then have her wicked way with them.
Maybe it would be better for her sanity to think about her parents.
Which would mean she would be missing out on whatever show the guys are putting up and is she insane?
Maybe, yes, that is debatable, but she is sane enough to not not appreciate a sight like this.
And thank God that neither Don nor Billy are paying any attention to her. If they had been throwing her looks, she might have suspected them of playing with her, but they are in their element, having found their groove back, and why in crikey fuck are they playing around like that?
On a completely unrelated note, where did that Tropic Thunder- reference come from, anyways? She wants to smack Don on the back of the head for quoting it when in private. Why did he have to make her watch it again? Or actually it was the other way around. Together with Iron Man. It is a good thing that he never said anything when she subjected him to a row of movies in the last couple of weeks all starring the same actor… Hmm… On that note, Robert Downey, Jr and Don? Wow, very nice imagery, too…
Maybe she should go for a run.
Yes, a run sounds like an excellent idea, she can get rid of all the tension inside her, and if she could she would take Don with her to help her relieve some of that tension in a hidden area in the park…
It is not like they have not done that before, you know?
Her thoughts are disrupted by Don placing a plate of scrambled eggs with scallions and tomatoes in front of her, together with a cup of spicy tea, a combination which she loves to have. She wants to thank him, she does, but then she gets distracted by a fleck of something nestled in the chest hair near his right nipple and all she wants to do is flick her lips over it again and again until it is gone.
And then maybe some more for good measure, just to be sure he is clean and because he loves it, and the sounds he makes when she sucks his nipples?
Oh yeah, baby, that is audio porn right then and there.
Plus, he opens his mouth a little and these little puffs of breath come out and his lips are forming this beautiful bowshape that just makes her want to kiss him senseless once she has let off the nipples.
But no, they are not alone, so she just settles on smiling at him and then picking at the something with her fingers, and if she tugs a bit at the hair to get a reaction out of him, well, so be it.
He just smirks at her, as if he knows exactly what is going through her mind and when she glances down she just glares at his lower half.
That man has to have the best self- control ever known to mankind.
She wants to hit him over the head with her full plate and then clean him up with her tongue before killing him slowly during sex, but alas, they have company, and if he can behave, then so can she.
She hopes.
Her hormones laugh at her and tell her to just give up and give in.
As they eat breakfast, conversation flows easily, and apparently she is part of it, too, though later she will not be able to remember a single thing.
Robin feels as though she has the classic image of a devilish figurine on one shoulder and an angelic one on the other, and both are warring for dominance.
The fake devil looks a lot like her mother, while the other looks like Don. A shrink, Don’s shrink, preferably, she likes the man, would have a field day with that image, especially what with her mixing up the sexual designation, the devil as a woman and the angel as a man.
Or maybe she should never have watched Dogma. Her whole religious views have been a bit askew since then.
The devil- Mom and angel- Don are now fighting for dominance over her head, her thoughts, her imagination and she really hopes that Don wins because that might bode well for a possible future meeting between the two real life- people.
He can be quite diplomatic once he has set his mind to it, and for her he would make the effort, she is sure.
Somehow she gets through breakfast and the washing- up, which she does not have to do, because the two men can be quite gentleman- ly, too, and besides, Don likes his dishes done just this way, exactly, and while she is good for drying them, she is not the right person to wash them.
He can be anal that way.
And why, why did she just think of anal when she went for a whole four minutes, repeat: four minutes, without thinking of sex with Don?
Thank God Billy is a good reader of people’s emotions and he retreats into his room with this huge gigantic smirk on his face while Don and her go to the bedroom, hands already going places that would make Billy’s sister Katherine surely blush from head to toe.
She needs to get rid of all this horniness before they head over to Alan’s.
Don is more than willing to help her with her ‘problem’.
That is at least one problem taken care of.
******
They lie in bed after, her head resting on Don’s slightly sweaty chest, and Robin is nearly lulled into sleep by his rhythmic stroking of her hair.
She loves what he does to her before, during, but also after sex, because no- one has ever managed to relax her so fully that she just wants to melt into a puddle beneath his hands.
“I don’t think Charlie and Billy are gonna get along.”
And just like that, she is not sleepy anymore.
“Why do you think that?”
“Because… I dunno… Billy has never liked him.”
“Did they ever meet?”
“Only that one time when Billy came to LA to help us with a case, but they didn’t hang out, you know? There’s this kinda strange tension between them… Just, you know…”
His worry- vein has come out. She reaches a hand up to stroke it.
“Everything’s gonna be okay. They’re big boys, they can work it out, whatever it is.”
“I hope so. But I don’t think Charlie likes Billy, either, really dislikes him, you know?
“Well, then…”
She actually does not know what to say to that.
“Tension.”
“Yup.”
“This is gonna be fuuuuuuuuuuuuun.”
She draws out the word on purpose, hoping to make him laugh, chuckle, anything to elevate his mood, but all she gets is a weak lift of the lips.
“Yeah.”
She would believe him that he believes her if he had said it with more conviction.
As it is, she cannot help but feel like this is the calm before the storm.