[Stage 3] Delayed Gratification | Julian Sark/Rachel Gibson, Alias, Five Stages of Sexual Response
Title: Delayed Gratification
Author: midorinomizu
Series: Alias
Pairing: Julian Sark/Rachel Gibson
Theme: 3 - Plateau
Length: 500 words
Disclaimer: Alias is, and has always been, J.J Abrams.
He hadn't tried to seduce her yet, even though he knew she wasn't averse to the idea. Sark preferred to to let the tension build before making his first move; it was the way he operated in all things, but particularly with women. It was a game, and he excelled at it.
From the start, he'd wanted to push things with Rachel Gibson, run his hands through her long fall of sleekly straight blond hair and watch her blue eyes heat with desire. He wanted it instantly. It concerned him, this relentless desire for immediacy, and he admitted to himself that part of the reason he hadn't made his move immediately was because of that very fact; as a rule he preferred to deny himself when he wanted something so much.
Instant gratification was so often empty and meaningless, after all.
Rachel had slipped out of her suit jacket and kicked off her high heels before sitting down on the wide bed and cracking open her silver laptop, her slender fingers dancing across the keys with incredible speed. The fact was, Sark didn't exactly have the information he'd claimed to have - he had the key to it, one piece of the Prophet 5 puzzle - and if Sydney Bristow had been the agent sent to deal with him, she'd have ripped a strip off of him before settling in to get the information. Rachel had just lifted an eyebrow, a flash of annoyance in her eyes, before shrugging it off and getting to work. He had to admire a woman who didn't waste time with pointless verbiage.
The spaghetti strap of Rachel's dark camisole slid off her shoulder and down her upper arm, and Sark's lips curved in an appreciative smile when she didn't bother to push it back up. His eyes darkened and glittered as they took in her pale skin, the sharp line of her collarbone, the slight swell of her breasts before his exploration was interrupted by the black silk. It was mostly opaque, he mused, but when the sun gleamed through the window just right, it was almost translucent.
And when she sat up straight, arching her back just slightly to work the kinks out of her spine...well, Sark thought, his eyes narrowing with heightening desire, then it might as well not be there at all.
“Almost done?” he asked, and his affected nonchalant tone was belied by a slightly rough rasp in his voice.
“Almost,” Rachel said, her own voice was crisp and businesslike as her fingers continued to fly across the keys. “Just a few more steps, and I'll have it.”
She flicked a glance at him that was full of a heady combination of amusement and her own growing eagerness. “Then we just have to wait for the computer to do its thing.”
She turned back to the screen, and Julian Sark found himself smirking in response.
He enjoyed it so much more when his partner knew how to play the game too.
Author: midorinomizu
Series: Alias
Pairing: Julian Sark/Rachel Gibson
Theme: 3 - Plateau
Length: 500 words
Disclaimer: Alias is, and has always been, J.J Abrams.
He hadn't tried to seduce her yet, even though he knew she wasn't averse to the idea. Sark preferred to to let the tension build before making his first move; it was the way he operated in all things, but particularly with women. It was a game, and he excelled at it.
From the start, he'd wanted to push things with Rachel Gibson, run his hands through her long fall of sleekly straight blond hair and watch her blue eyes heat with desire. He wanted it instantly. It concerned him, this relentless desire for immediacy, and he admitted to himself that part of the reason he hadn't made his move immediately was because of that very fact; as a rule he preferred to deny himself when he wanted something so much.
Instant gratification was so often empty and meaningless, after all.
Rachel had slipped out of her suit jacket and kicked off her high heels before sitting down on the wide bed and cracking open her silver laptop, her slender fingers dancing across the keys with incredible speed. The fact was, Sark didn't exactly have the information he'd claimed to have - he had the key to it, one piece of the Prophet 5 puzzle - and if Sydney Bristow had been the agent sent to deal with him, she'd have ripped a strip off of him before settling in to get the information. Rachel had just lifted an eyebrow, a flash of annoyance in her eyes, before shrugging it off and getting to work. He had to admire a woman who didn't waste time with pointless verbiage.
The spaghetti strap of Rachel's dark camisole slid off her shoulder and down her upper arm, and Sark's lips curved in an appreciative smile when she didn't bother to push it back up. His eyes darkened and glittered as they took in her pale skin, the sharp line of her collarbone, the slight swell of her breasts before his exploration was interrupted by the black silk. It was mostly opaque, he mused, but when the sun gleamed through the window just right, it was almost translucent.
And when she sat up straight, arching her back just slightly to work the kinks out of her spine...well, Sark thought, his eyes narrowing with heightening desire, then it might as well not be there at all.
“Almost done?” he asked, and his affected nonchalant tone was belied by a slightly rough rasp in his voice.
“Almost,” Rachel said, her own voice was crisp and businesslike as her fingers continued to fly across the keys. “Just a few more steps, and I'll have it.”
She flicked a glance at him that was full of a heady combination of amusement and her own growing eagerness. “Then we just have to wait for the computer to do its thing.”
She turned back to the screen, and Julian Sark found himself smirking in response.
He enjoyed it so much more when his partner knew how to play the game too.