Semi-Regular Domestication
Title: Semi-Regular Domestication
Author: Alsike
Pairing: Emma/Emily
Rating: PG-15
Apologies: This is stupid. But I was going through the six hundred files in my E2 folder, looking for my CotR notes, and I found this. Consider it another appetizer.
Sometimes Emily wondered whether or not Emma actually did live with her, and they were just in those uncomfortable relationships, often found among academics, where one party lives near their work, and the other jets off for a week of hard labor and then comes home on weekends, or whether they were still technically broken up and the semi-regular sex was just a fluke.
It was a particularly frequent fluke, if that were the case, and there were some conversations that felt really out of place if they were only in the 'I'm horny and in possession of a private jet' relationship stage. (Emily did not technically possess a private jet, but whenever the team ended up on a case anywhere near New York, they made sure she got a private room a few floors away from everybody else. Emily would swear that someone was tracking the GPS in her phone.)
It was a Friday night, and Emily was sitting at the kitchen counter, a case file spread out in front of her, and two coffees. She was listening for the click of heels in the hall, and wondering if it would completely derail everything if she gave Emma a key. That was the sort of thing that usually did. Emma did not approve of anything that smacked of domestication. Somehow actual domestication went by completely unnoticed.
"Those fucking brats!" Emma stormed through the door that Emily had barely opened in time, and threw her rain-damp jacket at the coat rack. "It's like having Jubilee back in my class again! Jubilee, Emmett, and Roberto! And all the other teachers say they're as good as gold. It's just my class that they make a ruckus in." She made a face, and turned to Emily. "I used to scare children."
She looked so pathetic as she said that line, that Emily hadn't the heart to laugh at her. She offered her a cup of coffee instead. "I'm sure you can still scare children."
Emma met her eyes with an amused narrow gaze, clearly aware of the teasing. "Not these ones, I assure you. It's my telepathy section as well. Three of the rabble aren't even telepathic, one of them is human, but Phoebe has managed to make them some sort of hive mind so they can communicate as if they are. And I thought stopping texting during class was difficult!"
"You've texted me during class." For Emily that meant during work. They were usually dirty, and Morgan had gotten hold of one and read it aloud to the whole department.
"Only when I'm giving a quiz."
Emily had been pushing her hopefully towards a chair, but at that Emma spun and started another circuit of the living room carpet, stiletto heels grinding down the nap of the rug.
"And anyways, you wouldn't believe what they did to me today. They managed to get a rumor spread through the whole school that I had started a section on brainwashing. Fucking Scott called me into his office to give me a talking to."
"Emma-"
"And do you know how hard it is to explain, 'no I didn't teach it to them, somehow they've managed to work it out for themselves'?"
"Emma!"
Emma looked at her finally, and Emily glanced pointedly at her boots.
"Oh," affecting an utter lack of guilt, she took the boots off, and then her socks, and winced when her arches stretched as she stepped out barefoot onto the floor.
"Now sit." Emma did sit, and set down her coffee on the sidetable. She glanced at Emily with a raised eyebrow that said, 'well now, you're being forceful today.'
"You sound stressed out." Emily settled in on the other end of the couch.
"It was a long fucking week, and those brats just managed to end it on a low note." She scowled, looking away, and flexing her feet awkwardly.
Emily shook her head. It was always the kids she complained about the most that she fought the hardest for. She watched the way Emma was shifting, and hesitated for a moment. It could be one of the touchy things, domestication, but probably not. Emma liked subservience, not that that was what it was. Quickly, she leaned forward and looped her arm around Emma's ankles, pulling her feet up into her lap. Emma made a slight jerk of surprise, but then adjusted until it was comfortable. She raised another eyebrow, but Emily stared her down. And then she pressed her thumbs into Emma's arches and slid them up.
Emma made a small noise, and her head tipped back. Emily grinned. It was always nice to know she could get that reaction if she wanted to. She worked them gently, pressing circles into the balls of her feet, and stretching her toes, then rubbing the soft place between her anklebone and her heel. And then she bent down ran her tongue underneath the pads of Emma's perfectly pedicured toes.
Emma made a hissing noise and convulsed, and Emily looked up. "Should I stop?"
"Don't you fucking dare!"
Apparently giving footrubs led to getting oral sex. Emily filed this away as useful knowledge for the future.