TWW FIC: When I'm Worn and Find You Waiting
Title: When I'm Worn and Find You Waiting
Author: shutterbug_12
Characters: Josh/Amy
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Only borrowing. Make love, not lawsuits.
Summary: "You're--a tease. You're mean, you know that?"
Author's Note: Please read my thoughts about cross-posting found in my profile. Approximate timeline: Stirred (3.17) - Enemies Foreign and Domestic (3.19). 324 words. For the Small Fandom and Rare Pairing Drabbleathon. Many thanks to my beta, magisterequitum. Feedback and concrit is love.
As Josh shuffled heavy-footed toward his office, he closed his eyes and scrubbed his eyelids. He absently traced the route from the Oval Office to his chair in black darkness, past empty desks and still rooms. Inside his office, his free hand skittered across his desk in a blind search for his keys. His knuckles brushed a stray scrap of paper--new and fresh since he'd last seen the surface of his desk.
He blinked at the folded slip, brow furrowed and head tilted. As he sank into his chair, he read the handwritten note and, before his eyes reached the bottom, his brain rocked awake.
His heart rate soared as his mind flooded with her. Her hair loose and fanned--messy and dark--across wrinkled sheets. Her hands spread over his sides, his back; the scratch of nails, the press of warm palms. Eyes open and direct, her gaze as steady and deliberate as her touch. Her calves crossed over the backs of his knees, and her thighs a soft cradle for his hips. Her mouth to his ear, voice low and breath hot as words tumbled off her lips.
He dialed her number before the images faded, and he had to kill the hitch in his breath when her voice streamed into his ear.
"Amy, I've been awake for forty-two hours. You expect me to--"
"Get here before I start without you? Yeah."
He pressed his palm to his forehead and leaned forward, elbow on a sloppy stack of folders. A smile slipped into a breathy exhale, a shaky half-laugh. "You're--a tease. You're mean, you know that?"
"Yes, I do," she said, a wide smile in her voice. "See you soon, Joshua."
Twenty minutes later, he blamed Amy's inescapable allure for his weak will. Pulled by her written promise of a pleasurable, familiar haven in her bed--in her arms--he raised his fist and knocked softly on her door.
Author: shutterbug_12
Characters: Josh/Amy
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Only borrowing. Make love, not lawsuits.
Summary: "You're--a tease. You're mean, you know that?"
Author's Note: Please read my thoughts about cross-posting found in my profile. Approximate timeline: Stirred (3.17) - Enemies Foreign and Domestic (3.19). 324 words. For the Small Fandom and Rare Pairing Drabbleathon. Many thanks to my beta, magisterequitum. Feedback and concrit is love.
As Josh shuffled heavy-footed toward his office, he closed his eyes and scrubbed his eyelids. He absently traced the route from the Oval Office to his chair in black darkness, past empty desks and still rooms. Inside his office, his free hand skittered across his desk in a blind search for his keys. His knuckles brushed a stray scrap of paper--new and fresh since he'd last seen the surface of his desk.
He blinked at the folded slip, brow furrowed and head tilted. As he sank into his chair, he read the handwritten note and, before his eyes reached the bottom, his brain rocked awake.
His heart rate soared as his mind flooded with her. Her hair loose and fanned--messy and dark--across wrinkled sheets. Her hands spread over his sides, his back; the scratch of nails, the press of warm palms. Eyes open and direct, her gaze as steady and deliberate as her touch. Her calves crossed over the backs of his knees, and her thighs a soft cradle for his hips. Her mouth to his ear, voice low and breath hot as words tumbled off her lips.
He dialed her number before the images faded, and he had to kill the hitch in his breath when her voice streamed into his ear.
"Amy, I've been awake for forty-two hours. You expect me to--"
"Get here before I start without you? Yeah."
He pressed his palm to his forehead and leaned forward, elbow on a sloppy stack of folders. A smile slipped into a breathy exhale, a shaky half-laugh. "You're--a tease. You're mean, you know that?"
"Yes, I do," she said, a wide smile in her voice. "See you soon, Joshua."
Twenty minutes later, he blamed Amy's inescapable allure for his weak will. Pulled by her written promise of a pleasurable, familiar haven in her bed--in her arms--he raised his fist and knocked softly on her door.