Fic: You only come when you need something
The Good Wife. Kalinda/Cary
Vague spoilers for all aired episodes.
~1200 words. NC-17. Thanks to beta rillalicious for taking a look. <3
Summary: “We’ve established that you only come here when you need something. What are you after?"
Written for redbrunja for the Five Acts meme. The prompt was "against the wall."
You only come when you need something
“What is it now, Kalinda?” He asks from behind his desk. He leans back in his chair, scrutinizing her.
“What do you mean?” Her eyes never look innocent, she knows that, but this time she’s trying for honest, at least.
His eyes are tired and really, she is sorry about all of it. “We’ve established that you only come here when you need something. What are you after?”
She smiles. “No, Cary, you established that. Would you believe me if I told you I don’t need anything from you? That I just... stopped by?”
“No,” he says flatly.
“Fine,” she replies, knowing he can’t tell how hurt she is from her voice. “It’s too bad though, because I was going to let you bend me over the desk.”
She walks out and away, casual as you please, and he doesn’t catch up with her until she’s almost around the corner from the courthouse.
Kalinda is used to knowing when she’s being followed, and she’s not surprised that he came after her. She is surprised that instead of stopping her and trying to talk, he roughly seizes her by the arm, the muscle just above her elbow, and pulls her off the sidewalk into an alley extending to the loading dock. It’s the middle of the afternoon and no one is around at all.
There’s simmering anger in his eyes. They look glassy and stormy-grey, like the lake when thunderclouds roll in. He didn’t stop to put on his coat.
“You don’t get to do that,” he growls, pushing her forward and she backs up diagonally into the wall. “You can’t say you care one day, then not stick around long enough to convince me. Either you’re a liar or you’re a coward. Which is it?” His hands have come forward to press hard into the bricks on either side of her waist, pinning her between his body and the cold stone wall, and under his flint-like gaze.
She’s breathing harder than she’d like and she feels hot inside her fall coat. She doesn’t know what to say. She doesn’t know why she cares at all what he thinks or how he feels. Any other man or woman and she would have been out the door for real by now.
He just stares at her. She knows he expects an answer, his gaze his reminiscent of one he uses on witnesses.
Finally she breaks, and says what her mind’s been playing over and over in the solitude of her apartment, in the quiet moments in the car, when she thinks about him. “I’m both,” she whispers and he blinks in astonishment. “Cary, I lied when I said I didn’t need anything, I-- Please, don’t hate me. I couldn’t stand losing another friend.”
The clouds in his eyes seem to break and he smiles in a sad, incredulous way at her as he says, “Jesus, Kalinda, I don’t hate you. I just... I want you to be straight with me. I don’t wanna play anymore games.” He relaxes his grip on her, but she doesn’t move away.
“Would you believe me if I said I don’t either?”
He shakes his head and he’s still smiling, it’s somehow fond and she feels something warm curl slowly in her belly and up through her chest. “Stop asking me if I believe you and just spit it out. It makes me think you’re lying when you have to ask.”
She pulls him closer and looks up at him trying to be honest again. “What if I don’t know myself? What if my only way of telling is if you believe me?”
It’s then that he kisses her.
His mouth is as demanding as his words, as his hands, and hers rise to meet him. He tastes lovely, in a way that she can’t quite describe. He’s warm and forceful, his body against hers sends pulses of heat flashing beautifully through her. She’s been told before that her kisses are like warfare, lips, teeth and tongue each waging a different battle, but with him she feels as though it’s a dance and they both know the steps by heart.
He lifts a hand to cup her cheek, running his fingers back to the line of her jaw and through her tightly bound hair. He presses up closer to her, spreading her legs with his thighs. She lets him do it and helps by hiking up her skirt a little. He pulls at her neckline and cups her bra with his other hand. “I believe you,” he says to her lips. “Just don’t lie if you can help it, okay?”
“Yeah,” she replies, breathless, “okay.” He slides his fingers up her thigh, her bare thigh, and pulls her panties aside. She realizes she should be doing something as well.
She moves her fingers to his belt and begins to work at unbuckling, unbuttoning and unzipping, forgoing thought for motor control as he fingers her. His hands are warm and his fingers expert, she sighs into his kiss.
She has him out now and he’s hard and hot in her hand. He groans as she guides him inside her and his lips latch onto her neck and clavicle. She clings to his neck, her other hand finding purchase under his upper thigh, inches away from his buttocks and he begins to thrust, first slowly, then insistently driving into her over and over.
She moans into his ear and it only spurs him on. “Cary,” she says, and it feels so good, so right. She feels the heat and the want, the need, build up inside her until she threatens to overflow with is, until it spills out of her throat in sighs and moans and cries.
Her muscles clench around him and he’s still thrusting against her. Pleasure rolls through her like those damn thunderclouds across the sky. His breath chokes and stutters against her skin like he’s trying to hold something in but her fingers dig into his skin, his flesh and muscle until he lets it loose like she has.
He pulls out from her with a harsh little cry. She knows why and she’s a step away from loving him for it. She drags a hand through her sopping pussy and pumps her hand up and down his shaft until he gasps and cries again, going stiff against her and breathing deep a moment later.
Her hand and her skirt are covered with his come. She puts a finger in her mouth and sucks on it lightly as he pulls away from her and lets her down. She looks up at him through her lashes and grins crookedly.
He’s staring at her like he can’t believe the world he’s living in. He glances around like he expects someone to have seen them, or perhaps to find some witness to give the experience credence.
Kalinda feels like she should say something, and the words fall from her mouth before she can give them a second thought, “It’s not just something, it’s not anything that I need from you, Cary. It’s everything.”
He just smiles at her and it’s fucking beautiful.
Vague spoilers for all aired episodes.
~1200 words. NC-17. Thanks to beta rillalicious for taking a look. <3
Summary: “We’ve established that you only come here when you need something. What are you after?"
Written for redbrunja for the Five Acts meme. The prompt was "against the wall."
You only come when you need something
“What is it now, Kalinda?” He asks from behind his desk. He leans back in his chair, scrutinizing her.
“What do you mean?” Her eyes never look innocent, she knows that, but this time she’s trying for honest, at least.
His eyes are tired and really, she is sorry about all of it. “We’ve established that you only come here when you need something. What are you after?”
She smiles. “No, Cary, you established that. Would you believe me if I told you I don’t need anything from you? That I just... stopped by?”
“No,” he says flatly.
“Fine,” she replies, knowing he can’t tell how hurt she is from her voice. “It’s too bad though, because I was going to let you bend me over the desk.”
She walks out and away, casual as you please, and he doesn’t catch up with her until she’s almost around the corner from the courthouse.
Kalinda is used to knowing when she’s being followed, and she’s not surprised that he came after her. She is surprised that instead of stopping her and trying to talk, he roughly seizes her by the arm, the muscle just above her elbow, and pulls her off the sidewalk into an alley extending to the loading dock. It’s the middle of the afternoon and no one is around at all.
There’s simmering anger in his eyes. They look glassy and stormy-grey, like the lake when thunderclouds roll in. He didn’t stop to put on his coat.
“You don’t get to do that,” he growls, pushing her forward and she backs up diagonally into the wall. “You can’t say you care one day, then not stick around long enough to convince me. Either you’re a liar or you’re a coward. Which is it?” His hands have come forward to press hard into the bricks on either side of her waist, pinning her between his body and the cold stone wall, and under his flint-like gaze.
She’s breathing harder than she’d like and she feels hot inside her fall coat. She doesn’t know what to say. She doesn’t know why she cares at all what he thinks or how he feels. Any other man or woman and she would have been out the door for real by now.
He just stares at her. She knows he expects an answer, his gaze his reminiscent of one he uses on witnesses.
Finally she breaks, and says what her mind’s been playing over and over in the solitude of her apartment, in the quiet moments in the car, when she thinks about him. “I’m both,” she whispers and he blinks in astonishment. “Cary, I lied when I said I didn’t need anything, I-- Please, don’t hate me. I couldn’t stand losing another friend.”
The clouds in his eyes seem to break and he smiles in a sad, incredulous way at her as he says, “Jesus, Kalinda, I don’t hate you. I just... I want you to be straight with me. I don’t wanna play anymore games.” He relaxes his grip on her, but she doesn’t move away.
“Would you believe me if I said I don’t either?”
He shakes his head and he’s still smiling, it’s somehow fond and she feels something warm curl slowly in her belly and up through her chest. “Stop asking me if I believe you and just spit it out. It makes me think you’re lying when you have to ask.”
She pulls him closer and looks up at him trying to be honest again. “What if I don’t know myself? What if my only way of telling is if you believe me?”
It’s then that he kisses her.
His mouth is as demanding as his words, as his hands, and hers rise to meet him. He tastes lovely, in a way that she can’t quite describe. He’s warm and forceful, his body against hers sends pulses of heat flashing beautifully through her. She’s been told before that her kisses are like warfare, lips, teeth and tongue each waging a different battle, but with him she feels as though it’s a dance and they both know the steps by heart.
He lifts a hand to cup her cheek, running his fingers back to the line of her jaw and through her tightly bound hair. He presses up closer to her, spreading her legs with his thighs. She lets him do it and helps by hiking up her skirt a little. He pulls at her neckline and cups her bra with his other hand. “I believe you,” he says to her lips. “Just don’t lie if you can help it, okay?”
“Yeah,” she replies, breathless, “okay.” He slides his fingers up her thigh, her bare thigh, and pulls her panties aside. She realizes she should be doing something as well.
She moves her fingers to his belt and begins to work at unbuckling, unbuttoning and unzipping, forgoing thought for motor control as he fingers her. His hands are warm and his fingers expert, she sighs into his kiss.
She has him out now and he’s hard and hot in her hand. He groans as she guides him inside her and his lips latch onto her neck and clavicle. She clings to his neck, her other hand finding purchase under his upper thigh, inches away from his buttocks and he begins to thrust, first slowly, then insistently driving into her over and over.
She moans into his ear and it only spurs him on. “Cary,” she says, and it feels so good, so right. She feels the heat and the want, the need, build up inside her until she threatens to overflow with is, until it spills out of her throat in sighs and moans and cries.
Her muscles clench around him and he’s still thrusting against her. Pleasure rolls through her like those damn thunderclouds across the sky. His breath chokes and stutters against her skin like he’s trying to hold something in but her fingers dig into his skin, his flesh and muscle until he lets it loose like she has.
He pulls out from her with a harsh little cry. She knows why and she’s a step away from loving him for it. She drags a hand through her sopping pussy and pumps her hand up and down his shaft until he gasps and cries again, going stiff against her and breathing deep a moment later.
Her hand and her skirt are covered with his come. She puts a finger in her mouth and sucks on it lightly as he pulls away from her and lets her down. She looks up at him through her lashes and grins crookedly.
He’s staring at her like he can’t believe the world he’s living in. He glances around like he expects someone to have seen them, or perhaps to find some witness to give the experience credence.
Kalinda feels like she should say something, and the words fall from her mouth before she can give them a second thought, “It’s not just something, it’s not anything that I need from you, Cary. It’s everything.”
He just smiles at her and it’s fucking beautiful.