Fic: The Necessary Blonde
Title: The Necessary Blonde
Author: MeiLin
Rating: NC-17
Characters/Pairings: Capt John Hart/Shae Han (oh yeah you know it baby)
Summary: Capt John tries to play a player. Very close to PWP. OK, it is PWP. You got a problem with that?
Spoilers: Possibly for "Kiss Kiss Bang Bang."
A/N: Shae Han, aka Miss Dexter, is the major OC in my novella Valiant. This might make more sense if you're familiar with the character, or you just might want to look at it as Capt John having hot monkey sex with a gorgeous blonde.
"You do realize you look like a bellhop in that get-up," came a lazy voice just behind him.
Captain John Hart rested one hand lightly on his right-hand holster but didn't turn around. He put one foot up on the railing of the esplanade and kept his gaze nominally on the big, dirty river running past them. "Really? I think it suits me. Dashing calvalry officer and all. The pretties dig the boots."
The voice laughed, low, and so invitingly that he finally had to turn around to see the owner properly. Ah. Much better than he had expected, in fact, just the sort of contact he liked to work with: Blonde, leggy, sleepy-eyed, impossibly sexy in her restrained black pantsuit. This would be fun, especially the getting her out of it part. Well. The really fun part would be taking her for everything she's got, but to each its time.
"Do you trust me enough to come up to my room?" she asked, with a little smile and a raised brow.
"Oh, darling, I thought you'd never ask," he smirked. "But don't you think you should at least tell me your name? How rude of me--I'm Captain John Hart."
"Of course you are. For now, you may call me Miss Dexter," she said coolly.
"Yes, miss," he said sardonically, but there was a faint flicker of uncertainty in his pale eyes. Something about this one didn't add up. He was pouring it on, but it just beaded up on her like oil on water. He began to reassess his approach.
They walked in silence to the nearby hotel. When they entered the lobby, the first thing Hart saw was a very fat young woman in a very pink and ruffly ballgown. Strange--there was another. And coming around the corner from the bar were a squad of Storm Troopers in gleaming white armor...
"What the hell--?"
"Science fiction convention. My favorite cover. No one will give us a second glance here, and we may talk about alien artifacts all we'd like. We could probably do our business right here in the lobby. But where," she said, fixing him with a glance, "is the fun in that?" He recognized the predatory smile; it had graced his own face more than once. His jeans suddenly felt very tight, and his mind was quite uneasy. But he flashed her the same smile in return, and hers widened. "Ah, we understand one another. I knew we would."
He followed her into the elevator. She didn't seem to care whether she led or followed, didn't seem to be aware of his weapons, didn't seem to care about tactics at all. Even so, he could tell that she was aware of everything going on around her, and the exact tempo of his heartbeat.
Dangerous, this one. God, he was hard.
The elevator chimed and slid to a stop. They stepped out into the hallway and 'Miss Dexter' swiped her key card on a nearby door, motioning for him to enter.
Once they were inside he decided it was time to show her who was in charge of this little affair, and he slammed her against the wall, pinning her hands. The hazel eyes went wide, and her mouth opened slightly. He took the opportunity and slammed into her mouth, pressing his unmistakable erection against her until they both groaned. "My, we're eager," she breathed against his lips.
"Are you complaining?"
"No." And before he knew what she had done, she'd broken free of his grip and had effortlessly flipped him against the wall, knocking the air out of him. She took him by the neck and kissed him senseless. He hadn't been kissed like this since...since...
She ended the kiss and looked into his dazed eyes. "And how's Jack?" she grinned, releasing him.
"What. What?" He recovered himself. "Jack who?"
"Please, 'John,'" she said, once again cool and professional. She walked into the outer room of the suite, throwing her suit jacket over a chair. "Good lord, are all your generation of agents this unprofessional? Or is it just you two lovebirds?"
He watched her warily, and decided to say nothing.
"Never mind. Cards on the table, yes?" she said, settling into a chair and crossing her long legs. "My name isn't Dexter," she continued.
"You amaze me!" said Hart, opening his eyes wide in mock surprise.
She rolled her own in response. "My name is Shae Han. If you're of the same era as Jack, you may recognize it."
"Shae Han? THE Shae Han?"
She smiled smugly.
"Never heard of her."
She looked at him coldly. "You're Time Agency, late 51st, same as Jack. Wrist strap, darling," she added, pointing to his wrist. "For that matter, I've seen you on the Torchwood CCTV feeds and read Ianto's after-action report. I keep waiting for them to find all my little back doors, but they never do. So pretty and so dumb."
"You know, I told Jack he needed a blonde."
"And he had one, for a bit."
"Had in what sense?"
"Oh, in every sense," she grinned. "Almost worth being stuck in 21st century Wales. Almost." Hart's breathing picked up slightly. "You like that thought?" she said, rising from the chair. "Jack and me? How about this? Remember his pretty little secretary? Ianto?" Shae fingered the buttons of her silk blouse, watching him with those lidded hazel eyes as he came closer. "He's prettier than you know. The two of them together? Have you thought about it? Oh, I can tell you have. I've seen it. You wouldn't believe how hot."
Her voice dropped to a soft growl. "And the three of us? Can you picture that? Jack and Ianto and me, all out of breath and covered in sweat and each other's come? Better than you can ever imagine."
Hart knew she was playing him, and at the moment he didn't care. He slid his hands along her collarbone under the silk blouse and ripped down, mother of pearl buttons flying. He crushed her to him, biting at her lips as her hands worked at his belts. "Wait," he panted.
They broke apart and stripped down. Shae walked into the bedroom with a no-nonsense swivel to her naked hips. Hart practically ran after her, mostly needing to throw her onto the bed and fuck her senseless but also needing to keep her in sight. Just because he wanted her--and just because she was Time Agency Master Trainer Shae Han, oh yes, he knew very well who she was--didn't mean he trusted her.
Hart came up behind her and latched onto her neck, his erection against the cleft of her ass and his hands palming her breasts roughly. Shae pushed back hard against him, making him gasp. They were almost of a height, he thought. He jolted her hard. She dropped toward the bed with a small cry, his hands holding her hips against him as she braced herself on the mattress with open palms.
He slid into her, not bothering to take it slow or gentle, not with this one, and she gave a long, harsh moan. Only problem with this position, he loved to watch their faces when he fucked them hard like this. But the sight of her ass shaking with each thrust, her breasts swaying--he reached down and squeezed one hard, and she ground back against him, swearing in the Common Tongue.
*You like it like that, eh?* he grated out in return.
Shae pulled out of his grip and climbed up onto the bed. *Get up here. Knees.* She lay down before him, propped a pillow under her ass, and threw her legs over his shoulders. *All of it. Now.* He re-entered her, plunging deep. She took his entire length, swiveling up to meet him. *That's it,* she panted as he pulled out and thrust in again, *that's it. Yes.*
He set up a driving rhythm, and with each stroke her breasts shook and she gave a grunting sob. *Did Jack fuck you like this, Shae?*
*Yes,* she moaned, *God yes. Don't stop. I don't care what your real name is, just don't stop. Huuh--huuh--* Shae threw her head back, and Hart felt her clutch him deep inside. She screamed and writhed, until finally her legs went rubbery and fell on either side of him.
He put one hand under her ass and brought his other arm underneath her back, crushing her breasts against him. She offered no resistance, but lay limp and swooning beneath him. He buried his head in the crook of her neck and pistoned his hips into her until he came with a groaning shout. They lay there shuddering against each other.
"That was...that was..." he gasped in English.
"...Altogether too easy," said a male voice from the doorway. Hart rolled off her onto his feet to face a tall, elegant fair-haired man holding a gun on him. The man moved into the room, revealing a small olive-skinned woman behind him. She was also armed, and her large black eyes were sparkling with excitement.
Shae let out a low chuckle. "You could have interrupted us, you know."
"And miss the show?" said the woman. "Really, guvnor."
Hart stood, naked and tense, trying to gauge intent. "So. You're gonna fuck me and steal my artifact."
"Oh, no. I fucked you and I'm going to pay you for your artifact. This," she said, waving at her two armed confederates, "this is just insurance. Jack never said much about his past, but he did drop a few hints about you. Thought it was necessary. Sean, is the item what we were promised?"
"As advertised on the tin, ma'am," he said in his smooth Irish baritone. "Mr van Statten will be pleased."
"Hmf," said Hart. "You share Jack's taste in secretaries. Buff Celts."
"Oh no," said Shae, stretching her long limbs on the bed. "My secretary is a little blonde American named Diana. Lovely long curls, heart-shaped face. You'd love her. This is Sean Malloy, my second in command." Sean nodded. "And Jane Da Silva, our transportation coordinator. Jane, be a darling and--oh, you brought me my clothes. Keep a sharp eye on him for a moment, Sean--" and she reached up and gave the dark-haired girl a long, tongue-filled kiss. "Right, as you were, sweetheart, watch the conman, there's a girl."
Shae quickly dressed, buttoning her jacket closed to hide the lack of a blouse. "Now, Captain Hart, you picked my pocket when we came in the bedroom, so I believe we're quits. The room's paid for overnight, checkout's at 11. Don't abuse the mini-bar too badly. Truly a pleasure doing business with you, and really," she added as she followed Da Silva and Malloy out of the room, "I would absolutely love to do it again some time." She smiled and shook her head. "Tsk. Agency standards must really have fallen in the 51st."
He heard the main door close after them, and sighed. Did every former Time Agent have a team these days? Maybe, he reflected, it was time to get himself one. He scratched his thigh and went to see how much damage he could do to the mini-bar before checkout time.
Author: MeiLin
Rating: NC-17
Characters/Pairings: Capt John Hart/Shae Han (oh yeah you know it baby)
Summary: Capt John tries to play a player. Very close to PWP. OK, it is PWP. You got a problem with that?
Spoilers: Possibly for "Kiss Kiss Bang Bang."
A/N: Shae Han, aka Miss Dexter, is the major OC in my novella Valiant. This might make more sense if you're familiar with the character, or you just might want to look at it as Capt John having hot monkey sex with a gorgeous blonde.
"You do realize you look like a bellhop in that get-up," came a lazy voice just behind him.
Captain John Hart rested one hand lightly on his right-hand holster but didn't turn around. He put one foot up on the railing of the esplanade and kept his gaze nominally on the big, dirty river running past them. "Really? I think it suits me. Dashing calvalry officer and all. The pretties dig the boots."
The voice laughed, low, and so invitingly that he finally had to turn around to see the owner properly. Ah. Much better than he had expected, in fact, just the sort of contact he liked to work with: Blonde, leggy, sleepy-eyed, impossibly sexy in her restrained black pantsuit. This would be fun, especially the getting her out of it part. Well. The really fun part would be taking her for everything she's got, but to each its time.
"Do you trust me enough to come up to my room?" she asked, with a little smile and a raised brow.
"Oh, darling, I thought you'd never ask," he smirked. "But don't you think you should at least tell me your name? How rude of me--I'm Captain John Hart."
"Of course you are. For now, you may call me Miss Dexter," she said coolly.
"Yes, miss," he said sardonically, but there was a faint flicker of uncertainty in his pale eyes. Something about this one didn't add up. He was pouring it on, but it just beaded up on her like oil on water. He began to reassess his approach.
They walked in silence to the nearby hotel. When they entered the lobby, the first thing Hart saw was a very fat young woman in a very pink and ruffly ballgown. Strange--there was another. And coming around the corner from the bar were a squad of Storm Troopers in gleaming white armor...
"What the hell--?"
"Science fiction convention. My favorite cover. No one will give us a second glance here, and we may talk about alien artifacts all we'd like. We could probably do our business right here in the lobby. But where," she said, fixing him with a glance, "is the fun in that?" He recognized the predatory smile; it had graced his own face more than once. His jeans suddenly felt very tight, and his mind was quite uneasy. But he flashed her the same smile in return, and hers widened. "Ah, we understand one another. I knew we would."
He followed her into the elevator. She didn't seem to care whether she led or followed, didn't seem to be aware of his weapons, didn't seem to care about tactics at all. Even so, he could tell that she was aware of everything going on around her, and the exact tempo of his heartbeat.
Dangerous, this one. God, he was hard.
The elevator chimed and slid to a stop. They stepped out into the hallway and 'Miss Dexter' swiped her key card on a nearby door, motioning for him to enter.
Once they were inside he decided it was time to show her who was in charge of this little affair, and he slammed her against the wall, pinning her hands. The hazel eyes went wide, and her mouth opened slightly. He took the opportunity and slammed into her mouth, pressing his unmistakable erection against her until they both groaned. "My, we're eager," she breathed against his lips.
"Are you complaining?"
"No." And before he knew what she had done, she'd broken free of his grip and had effortlessly flipped him against the wall, knocking the air out of him. She took him by the neck and kissed him senseless. He hadn't been kissed like this since...since...
She ended the kiss and looked into his dazed eyes. "And how's Jack?" she grinned, releasing him.
"What. What?" He recovered himself. "Jack who?"
"Please, 'John,'" she said, once again cool and professional. She walked into the outer room of the suite, throwing her suit jacket over a chair. "Good lord, are all your generation of agents this unprofessional? Or is it just you two lovebirds?"
He watched her warily, and decided to say nothing.
"Never mind. Cards on the table, yes?" she said, settling into a chair and crossing her long legs. "My name isn't Dexter," she continued.
"You amaze me!" said Hart, opening his eyes wide in mock surprise.
She rolled her own in response. "My name is Shae Han. If you're of the same era as Jack, you may recognize it."
"Shae Han? THE Shae Han?"
She smiled smugly.
"Never heard of her."
She looked at him coldly. "You're Time Agency, late 51st, same as Jack. Wrist strap, darling," she added, pointing to his wrist. "For that matter, I've seen you on the Torchwood CCTV feeds and read Ianto's after-action report. I keep waiting for them to find all my little back doors, but they never do. So pretty and so dumb."
"You know, I told Jack he needed a blonde."
"And he had one, for a bit."
"Had in what sense?"
"Oh, in every sense," she grinned. "Almost worth being stuck in 21st century Wales. Almost." Hart's breathing picked up slightly. "You like that thought?" she said, rising from the chair. "Jack and me? How about this? Remember his pretty little secretary? Ianto?" Shae fingered the buttons of her silk blouse, watching him with those lidded hazel eyes as he came closer. "He's prettier than you know. The two of them together? Have you thought about it? Oh, I can tell you have. I've seen it. You wouldn't believe how hot."
Her voice dropped to a soft growl. "And the three of us? Can you picture that? Jack and Ianto and me, all out of breath and covered in sweat and each other's come? Better than you can ever imagine."
Hart knew she was playing him, and at the moment he didn't care. He slid his hands along her collarbone under the silk blouse and ripped down, mother of pearl buttons flying. He crushed her to him, biting at her lips as her hands worked at his belts. "Wait," he panted.
They broke apart and stripped down. Shae walked into the bedroom with a no-nonsense swivel to her naked hips. Hart practically ran after her, mostly needing to throw her onto the bed and fuck her senseless but also needing to keep her in sight. Just because he wanted her--and just because she was Time Agency Master Trainer Shae Han, oh yes, he knew very well who she was--didn't mean he trusted her.
Hart came up behind her and latched onto her neck, his erection against the cleft of her ass and his hands palming her breasts roughly. Shae pushed back hard against him, making him gasp. They were almost of a height, he thought. He jolted her hard. She dropped toward the bed with a small cry, his hands holding her hips against him as she braced herself on the mattress with open palms.
He slid into her, not bothering to take it slow or gentle, not with this one, and she gave a long, harsh moan. Only problem with this position, he loved to watch their faces when he fucked them hard like this. But the sight of her ass shaking with each thrust, her breasts swaying--he reached down and squeezed one hard, and she ground back against him, swearing in the Common Tongue.
*You like it like that, eh?* he grated out in return.
Shae pulled out of his grip and climbed up onto the bed. *Get up here. Knees.* She lay down before him, propped a pillow under her ass, and threw her legs over his shoulders. *All of it. Now.* He re-entered her, plunging deep. She took his entire length, swiveling up to meet him. *That's it,* she panted as he pulled out and thrust in again, *that's it. Yes.*
He set up a driving rhythm, and with each stroke her breasts shook and she gave a grunting sob. *Did Jack fuck you like this, Shae?*
*Yes,* she moaned, *God yes. Don't stop. I don't care what your real name is, just don't stop. Huuh--huuh--* Shae threw her head back, and Hart felt her clutch him deep inside. She screamed and writhed, until finally her legs went rubbery and fell on either side of him.
He put one hand under her ass and brought his other arm underneath her back, crushing her breasts against him. She offered no resistance, but lay limp and swooning beneath him. He buried his head in the crook of her neck and pistoned his hips into her until he came with a groaning shout. They lay there shuddering against each other.
"That was...that was..." he gasped in English.
"...Altogether too easy," said a male voice from the doorway. Hart rolled off her onto his feet to face a tall, elegant fair-haired man holding a gun on him. The man moved into the room, revealing a small olive-skinned woman behind him. She was also armed, and her large black eyes were sparkling with excitement.
Shae let out a low chuckle. "You could have interrupted us, you know."
"And miss the show?" said the woman. "Really, guvnor."
Hart stood, naked and tense, trying to gauge intent. "So. You're gonna fuck me and steal my artifact."
"Oh, no. I fucked you and I'm going to pay you for your artifact. This," she said, waving at her two armed confederates, "this is just insurance. Jack never said much about his past, but he did drop a few hints about you. Thought it was necessary. Sean, is the item what we were promised?"
"As advertised on the tin, ma'am," he said in his smooth Irish baritone. "Mr van Statten will be pleased."
"Hmf," said Hart. "You share Jack's taste in secretaries. Buff Celts."
"Oh no," said Shae, stretching her long limbs on the bed. "My secretary is a little blonde American named Diana. Lovely long curls, heart-shaped face. You'd love her. This is Sean Malloy, my second in command." Sean nodded. "And Jane Da Silva, our transportation coordinator. Jane, be a darling and--oh, you brought me my clothes. Keep a sharp eye on him for a moment, Sean--" and she reached up and gave the dark-haired girl a long, tongue-filled kiss. "Right, as you were, sweetheart, watch the conman, there's a girl."
Shae quickly dressed, buttoning her jacket closed to hide the lack of a blouse. "Now, Captain Hart, you picked my pocket when we came in the bedroom, so I believe we're quits. The room's paid for overnight, checkout's at 11. Don't abuse the mini-bar too badly. Truly a pleasure doing business with you, and really," she added as she followed Da Silva and Malloy out of the room, "I would absolutely love to do it again some time." She smiled and shook her head. "Tsk. Agency standards must really have fallen in the 51st."
He heard the main door close after them, and sighed. Did every former Time Agent have a team these days? Maybe, he reflected, it was time to get himself one. He scratched his thigh and went to see how much damage he could do to the mini-bar before checkout time.