The previous twenty-four hours were a stark contrast from the day before. Familiarity offered quite the comfort. Emily had aided his recovery from his poor decisions after the fall out with Deb. Derek had managed to avoid the other Morgan, or maybe she simply wasn't looking. As usual.
However, all the bitterness he had contained was gone after donning the black mask at the Sheriff Station. His hand was still injured but not something Derek paid much attention to. In fact, the mask had a better effect than the pills Wilson prescribed.
Hangover was gone and he returned from the station to home for a change out of the uniform Emily had retrieved for him. She had been kind enough to pick up a set of casual clothes as well but Derek had a specific outfit in mind. Even in the chaos with Deb, memory recalled a black suit in his closet
( ... )
Being one of the newest arrivals to town, Emily knew very little of West's previous exploits. Sure, Derek had told her a few things, as had her unconventional housemate Abby, but all in all she hadn't found anything particularly strange about the mask. Well, other than the weird desire to put it on.
Which she did, if only after Morgan had donned his and seemed no worse for it. And the second she had hers snug against her face she understood why. Every single thing that she hadn't even known was bothering her ceased to be even the slightest of problems.
Hell, it seemed silly to even think there was such a thing as problems. Life was just great. And no one would've been able to tell her otherwise
( ... )
Jumping in at RC's request/demand.fucktonofcoffeeApril 17 2011, 01:25:06 UTC
Deb had found a white mask, and she'd held onto the damn thing for a good long time before she'd slipped it on. When she pulled it on, she found that nothing else mattered. It was a balm for the anger that coursed through her veins and the echoing pain in her chest. After all, nothing mattered, not Jim leaving, not Derek being the world's worse fucking asshole, nothing
( ... )
Emily had barely returned with drinks when Derek caught the glimmer of the mask on the feminine body heading toward him. He recognized the eyes and lips, moreover, the matching wedding band on the woman that charged toward him. The mask had taken quite the hold of him. There was nothing but a smile on his lips as Deb walked up.
The kiss was unexpected but Derek needed no prompting. His left hand held out the drink so it wouldn't spill on anyone but his wounded right carefully slipped around the slender body against his. Kissing for an audience wasn't on his dossier but there were influential masks involved. And maybe he needed the demanding affection regardless of influences.
Debra had missed him. She'd fucking missed him even when she didn't want to have fuck all to god damn do to him. She'd missed him and she'd fucking hated herself for it, especially with the way that they'd fought and he'd hit the way and she'd hit him. But the mask tightened slightly, and her brain released a fresh wave of Endorphins, warm and molten as she cozied up to him, her body forming in the spaces against his.
Her fingers traced the edges of the mask slowly, drawing against the edges. Funny how things worked out. She pulled back and kissed him again, her tongue following the warmth of his lips before it entered his mouth, and Deb was filled with thoughts about how fucking him in public seemed like a good idea.
But then so did dancing. Her voice was low and moist in the shell of his ear, and her tongue traced the outer edges of the lobe. "Let's fucking dance, Hubby."
The wearing of the mask had taken away all the ill feelings Derek had held in the past couple of days. He had been donning his for a day and it was getting to a point where he couldn't imagine life without it. Everything was so easy. So happy. He didn't have a care in the world. Everything was great.
As if on cue, Put Your Head On My Shoulder started to play at Deb's demand. Unbeknown to Derek. His mind and body were completely lost in the kiss. He no longer felt the mask on his face or really the injury to his hand. What he did feel was a complete rush at the intensity of her kiss.
He groaned when she opted to dance. It was the first act of displeasure since donning the mask that day. However, it was brief. "As you wish, Princess." Derek paused to quickly down the drink Emily had handed him then led the way to the dance floor with a smile.
Why hadn't she put the mask on before? The mask was fucking awesome. The mask was like settling into a giant tub of booze and afterglow and a gentle fucking massage. It was good to lose control wasn't it?
There was some part of Deb that was screaming against this. She fucking hated losing control, she hated giving up on it, giving into anything. It was why she had never done any drugs but booze, and even then she rarely drank until she got sloppy drunk and out of control. Almost without thinking, Deb grabbed the drink that Derek set down and then she drained it before she allowed herself to be led to the dance floor.
The music was entirely different than anything she would have danced to under her own power. It reminded her of warm springs with the kitchen windows open and her mom and dad dancing and her mom giggling. It made her laugh in a slightly drunken manner before she pressed herself close to him, putting her head on his shoulder. When she spoke, it was soft. "I fucking love you, you know."
It was nice to have her body against him. He didn't necessarily suffer a case of amnesia where all was forgotten--Derek simply didn't care. The lazy smile he had sported for the day seemed fixed to his lips. He looked back at his friends still near the bar and amplified his grin
( ... )
Deb hummed softly, moving with the music, letting it set the slower and deeper tones than the normal thrumming of the club beat. She felt so out of herself right now, different and low, like she was fucking flying through some kind of weird-ass dream thing
( ... )
"Baby, I'm a lover, not a fighter." The words were spoken with amusement evident in them yet they weren't teasing. Derek didn't think of their last encounter. His mind didn't revisit all the places past with Deb. ...How he first met the lanky detective on the square, inadvertently knocking her on her ass. ...Suddenly being cast into the rain and finding his way into her tent where she spent the night pressed against him to keep him from catching pneumonia. ...How she saved him from doing the unspeakable to Martha Jones. ...Spending days screwing their hearts content
( ... )
"Don't I fucking know it." Deb grinned at him, watching his face and staring into his eyes. She was amused by him, and by this and she didn't notice as the music changed around them. Her movements were slow and swaying and she just traced her fingers over the back of his neck, rolling them up and down.
He may not have been reminicing, but she definitely was. Their collective past weighed on her like a fucking rug and she was thinking that the fucking rug could be pulled out of them at any moment. If the rug was pulled under and Derek ended up poofing into fucking air like Jim did, Deb would miss him. She would miss him and she would want him and she would be fucking fucked up without him.
That was beside the point. She quickly leaned over to him and pressed her fingers to his lips. "Hold that fucking thought, Hubby. I gotta go powder my fucking shiny-ass nose." Funny how her nose was all covered by the bridge of the mask anyway.
Wilson spun around and grinned widely at the sound of a familiar voice. "Derek!" he called back happily as he moved to join his... friend? He'd been wondering if he could call him that after how surly the new sheriff had been when he'd patched him up, but now he couldn't imagine why he wouldn't consider Derek a friend. It was just so wonderful that he had another friend... and that he'd brought with him a very attractive woman
( ... )
The kiss to her knuckles was unexpected but only in a very good way. Emily beamed. She couldn't seem to help it and didn't want to. Why on earth would she? She was enjoying things way too much.
And wasn't to enjoy? Wilson was quite the charmer.
"I think you look just fine, Dr. Wilson," she said, dismissing his concerns with a coy smile, eyes dancing behind the mask. "Really."
She shifted, the barest of movements, though it seemed to put her close to the good doctor. "So tell me about yourself. I've only been here a few days, and don't know many people." Her grin grew more flirtatious. "Though I really like the few I've met."
"You're really too kind," Wilson replied, modestly. "I really had no idea this was going to b fancy. In fact, I didn't even know this was going to be anything. I just felt like socializing and thought the bar would be the best place. Guess I was right!"
He smiled and not so casually checked Emily out as she slid a bit closer. "Oh, I'm nothing special," he started, moving in closer himself. "I run the Oncology department at a teaching hospital out in New Jersey. I don't make as much as I would in other hospitals, but I like that we can help people with less money and I love seeing new doctors come into their own. How about you? Tell me more about yourself. I mean, all I know so far is your name and that you socialize with Derek. I simply have to know what a gorgeous woman like you is doing with a brute like that." Of course, he was teasing.
The enter button can be dangerous key...emily_prentissApril 19 2011, 03:27:13 UTC
Emily laughed. "He'd probably take that as a compliment," she said, glancing to where her partner was currently engaged with his faux- missus. "We work together, actually. FBI Behavioral Analysis Unit. I'm a profiler."
She shrugged, as if it were no big deal and then continued speaking. "But look at you. Head of Oncology, that's quite impressive. Especially, why you stay. If more people were like that..." She trailed off and shrugged, taking another sip of her drink. "It's very noble of you."
She paused, then cantered her to one side. "Do you dance, Doctor?"
Damn the enter button! Damn it!manipulatvebtchApril 19 2011, 04:04:57 UTC
"Wow," Wilson said, looking impressed (well, as impressed as you can while wearing a mask). "Brains and beauty? I'm way out of my league here." And he really was impressed, mostly with her, but also a little bit with himself. It wasn't often that he was truly attracted to a woman that was strong and independent, with the exception of Amber of course. Maybe things really were turning around for him.
Or maybe it was the mask.
Of course! It was the mask! It made him feel happy and confident and like everything was good again. Yes, that had to be it.
Wilson smiled widely at Emily. "I wouldn't say noble, but thank you. And yes, I would love to dance." He took her hand then and lead her out to what could pass as a dance floor and expertly spun her into some fancy dance move or other that he'd learned before one of his weddings.
However, all the bitterness he had contained was gone after donning the black mask at the Sheriff Station. His hand was still injured but not something Derek paid much attention to. In fact, the mask had a better effect than the pills Wilson prescribed.
Hangover was gone and he returned from the station to home for a change out of the uniform Emily had retrieved for him. She had been kind enough to pick up a set of casual clothes as well but Derek had a specific outfit in mind. Even in the chaos with Deb, memory recalled a black suit in his closet ( ... )
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Which she did, if only after Morgan had donned his and seemed no worse for it. And the second she had hers snug against her face she understood why. Every single thing that she hadn't even known was bothering her ceased to be even the slightest of problems.
Hell, it seemed silly to even think there was such a thing as problems. Life was just great. And no one would've been able to tell her otherwise ( ... )
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The kiss was unexpected but Derek needed no prompting. His left hand held out the drink so it wouldn't spill on anyone but his wounded right carefully slipped around the slender body against his. Kissing for an audience wasn't on his dossier but there were influential masks involved. And maybe he needed the demanding affection regardless of influences.
Reply
Her fingers traced the edges of the mask slowly, drawing against the edges. Funny how things worked out. She pulled back and kissed him again, her tongue following the warmth of his lips before it entered his mouth, and Deb was filled with thoughts about how fucking him in public seemed like a good idea.
But then so did dancing. Her voice was low and moist in the shell of his ear, and her tongue traced the outer edges of the lobe. "Let's fucking dance, Hubby."
Reply
As if on cue, Put Your Head On My Shoulder started to play at Deb's demand. Unbeknown to Derek. His mind and body were completely lost in the kiss. He no longer felt the mask on his face or really the injury to his hand. What he did feel was a complete rush at the intensity of her kiss.
He groaned when she opted to dance. It was the first act of displeasure since donning the mask that day. However, it was brief. "As you wish, Princess." Derek paused to quickly down the drink Emily had handed him then led the way to the dance floor with a smile.
Reply
There was some part of Deb that was screaming against this. She fucking hated losing control, she hated giving up on it, giving into anything. It was why she had never done any drugs but booze, and even then she rarely drank until she got sloppy drunk and out of control. Almost without thinking, Deb grabbed the drink that Derek set down and then she drained it before she allowed herself to be led to the dance floor.
The music was entirely different than anything she would have danced to under her own power. It reminded her of warm springs with the kitchen windows open and her mom and dad dancing and her mom giggling. It made her laugh in a slightly drunken manner before she pressed herself close to him, putting her head on his shoulder. When she spoke, it was soft. "I fucking love you, you know."
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He may not have been reminicing, but she definitely was. Their collective past weighed on her like a fucking rug and she was thinking that the fucking rug could be pulled out of them at any moment. If the rug was pulled under and Derek ended up poofing into fucking air like Jim did, Deb would miss him. She would miss him and she would want him and she would be fucking fucked up without him.
That was beside the point. She quickly leaned over to him and pressed her fingers to his lips. "Hold that fucking thought, Hubby. I gotta go powder my fucking shiny-ass nose." Funny how her nose was all covered by the bridge of the mask anyway.
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And wasn't to enjoy? Wilson was quite the charmer.
"I think you look just fine, Dr. Wilson," she said, dismissing his concerns with a coy smile, eyes dancing behind the mask. "Really."
She shifted, the barest of movements, though it seemed to put her close to the good doctor. "So tell me about yourself. I've only been here a few days, and don't know many people." Her grin grew more flirtatious. "Though I really like the few I've met."
Reply
He smiled and not so casually checked Emily out as she slid a bit closer. "Oh, I'm nothing special," he started, moving in closer himself. "I run the Oncology department at a teaching hospital out in New Jersey. I don't make as much as I would in other hospitals, but I like that we can help people with less money and I love seeing new doctors come into their own. How about you? Tell me more about yourself. I mean, all I know so far is your name and that you socialize with Derek. I simply have to know what a gorgeous woman like you is doing with a brute like that." Of course, he was teasing.
Reply
She shrugged, as if it were no big deal and then continued speaking. "But look at you. Head of Oncology, that's quite impressive. Especially, why you stay. If more people were like that..." She trailed off and shrugged, taking another sip of her drink. "It's very noble of you."
She paused, then cantered her to one side. "Do you dance, Doctor?"
Reply
Or maybe it was the mask.
Of course! It was the mask! It made him feel happy and confident and like everything was good again. Yes, that had to be it.
Wilson smiled widely at Emily. "I wouldn't say noble, but thank you. And yes, I would love to dance." He took her hand then and lead her out to what could pass as a dance floor and expertly spun her into some fancy dance move or other that he'd learned before one of his weddings.
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