Rude Party Guests (fic)

Apr 29, 2012 16:53

Title: Rude Party Guests
Character/Pairing: Wash/Miles
Word Count: 4553
Rating: NC-17
Spoiler alert: pre-series, altU

Summary: Wash can't help her protective instincts, or that itch she has to scratch.

AN: A "sequel" to Off-Wing; references things (vaguely) that took place in that story. Thanks to sky_kiss and admiralkatefor working through those last two kinks to get this done.



Wash is not the last to arrive, but there is a sizable group already milling about the sunroom when she slowly enters through the front door. It's not her first visit here, but it still feels odd to just walk in (though nobody's heard her knocking). The house is kept in perfect condition normally, and walking across the carpet feels like committing an insult even though everyone else has done the same.

"Hello?"

Taylor looks out from the around the corner to the kitchen. "Come on through, Wash. You're just in time. Beer?"

"Yes, sir."

"Be a trooper and carry a couple of these out." He hands her two large pails filled with ice and bottles of beer. "You'll be the hero of the afternoon."

Wash smirks as she takes the pails. "Yes, sir." And indeed, when she steps out into the sunroom, there are enthusiastic greetings for her, but moreso for the cold beer.

Ayani is there, among the soldiers, looking completely out of place, yet totally in control. The woman is carefully monitoring the level of finger food available, all laid out on a long table, being welcoming and gracious to every hand that picks one up.

That is until Wash sees one man, not dressed in the standard army BDUs, approach. Not army, he's marines, and that is something interesting. But of more concern beyond curiosity is Ayani's reaction to him. She stands rigid, no longer relaxed and welcoming. Her bright smile slides quickly into a cold, blank mask, which all makes her look quite displeased and unfriendly, but Wash knows her a little better.

It's in the eyes that Wash can see how distressed the woman actually is. Perhaps distressed isn't the right emotion. Maybe it's simply extreme nervousness. Whoever this marine is, Ayani is not pleased to have him standing near her, talking to her.

Wash feels, as loyal as she is to Taylor, that she must go to the other woman's rescue. With two bottles, she walks up to them, smiling politely but her eyes focused like a laser on the marine. "Ma'am."

Immediately Ayani's face brightens. "Alicia! No, thank you, dear," she says, refusing the offered bottle. "I wasn't sure you'd make it."

The marine turns and snags the beer from Wash's hand. "Thanks, darlin'."

Wash's natural reaction is to scowl, and while she's only a corporal, she deserves the respect of that rank. Not darlin'. But all of her affronted words and thoughts die when the marine looks at her wearing a very close replica of her CO's face. And the eyes... The eyes are the exact same blue, the same intensity.

It's apparently a reaction he's used to, since he just smirks at her and takes a drink from the bottle. He finally turns to Ayani. "Well, Miss Ayani, aren't you going to introduce us?"

Right there, Wash feels something off about him. "Corporal Alicia Washington." And if he's going to call her darlin', she will extend similar courtesy. That is to say none.

"This is Nathaniel's brother, Miles."

A look of amused surprise crosses his face. "Nathaniel is it? Miss Ayani, is there something going on that I don't know about?"

Wash has always felt that it is part of her duty as a soldier to protect those that need it, no matter the circumstance. This situation is no different. "That is an inappropriate way to speak to a lady. Perhaps you should apologize."

The tension escalates as the marine, Miles, stands straight up, all the amusement gone from his face. "Is that so?"

"A meathead is a meathead no matter how many stripes he's wearing."

His lip twitches.

Wash is readying herself for a fight, no matter how imbalanced the odds are.

"Alicia! Help me in the kitchen!" Ayani says, the desperation blatant in her voice as she grabs hold of Wash's arm, and pulls her away.

Ayani needs Wash's help in the kitchen as much as a fish needs help swimming, but Wash allows herself to be pulled away from the volatile situation. They head inside, but go past the kitchen completely. Deeper into the house until Wash finds herself in the Taylors' bedroom, and the door shut behind her.

Only then does Ayani turn to reveal the fact that she has tears running slowly down her cheeks.

"Ma'am, your makeup." It's the only thing that comes to Wash's mind; she's not very good at comforting people, especially when she has no idea what the problem is.

Ayani roughly wiped the tears away with the back of her hand. "I don't even know why I'm crying. It was ages ago, and he still gets to me. It's silly; I should get over it. He's not said an unkind word to me since Nathaniel... handled it."

Unwilling to pry in matters that aren't her own, Wash merely nods, hoping she conveys the appropriate sympathy.

"You soldiers. You want to know, but you're not going to ask, are you?"

"No, ma'am."

"No, you don't want to know? Or no, you're not going to ask?"

Wash shifts, and can't bring herself to look Ayani in the eye.

"Miles and I didn't get along well." Ayani dabbed her eyes as she checked herself in the mirror. "Let's just say it ended up with me kneeing him in the groin and leaving the party in tears, and then Nathaniel giving him a sound beating."

The fact that the man is in the house means that they've come to an understanding about this event, but Wash can't help get angry anyway. It was something that still bothered Ayani, obviously, and that couldn't just be hand-waved away.

Ayani shrugs, catching the look on her face in the mirror's reflection. "It's nothing now. He's never done or said anything since then, but... I guess I have a long memory. Thank you for helping me, Alicia."

"I don't think you should be out there without the major or myself with you." And she knows in her head it's so stupid and unnecessary, but Wash won't let it go now. She's officially in the middle of this family business, and she's not backing out, not with the memory of him calling her darlin' so fresh in her mind.

Somehow Ayani manages a laugh, back to her usual self, and takes Wash by the arm. "You are a peach, Alicia, but it's not necessary. And I'm sure Nathaniel is wondering where we've gone."

When they return to the gathering, he's not. He just nods to Wash, an understanding there that she was looking after his wife, and everyone is all smiles again.

Until Wash meets Miles' gaze, and both of their smiles cool in an instant. There's a very definite tension that everyone around them sees and all choose to ignore. Nor does anyone else speak a word as to the way Wash hovers at Ayani's shoulder the entire time, not even Taylor. There's a span of a few seconds where he makes eye contact with his wife, and Wash can see the question in his eyes, then Ayani shakes her head, and he turns away again.

That's it then, for roughly an hour she plays chaperone, and doesn't mind it so much. Though she stays very close to Ayani, there's always someone to talk with, someone she actually respects, close compadres that she doesn't get enough opportunity to relax with.

The entire time, though, every time she happens to meet the gaze of her CO's brother, Wash can't help but narrow her eyes at him. He responds in a similar manner, everything else disappearing for the brief moment their eyes lock. She can see how he'd be an intimidating figure to a lot of people, but not her. Wash has spent too much time around the man's brother to let that piercing blue gaze affect her.

There's a feral quality to the eyes, something barely contained that would be terrifying if set to the proper purpose, that isn't there in his brother's more measured expression. It's fascinating as much as it's infuriating, as she forces her attention back to the soldier she's speaking with.

This is beer three that forces her to break from her conversation to whisper to Ayani, "I'll be right back, ma'am."

"You know which way to go."

Three was a good number to stop at anyway. More, after this trip, and she'll have to head back every five minutes.

The half-bath is occupied, so she heads for the full in the back, by the bedrooms. It's the one Lucas uses primarily, so she muses about what toys will be strewn about the bathtub this time. Her last visit, it was a mish-mash of different superhero figures. Before that, a collection of various rubber dinosaurs. This time, she's a little let down that the bathtub is empty; Wash hopes that doesn't mean Lucas has abandoned the childhood past time of toys in the bath.

She doesn't really like kids much, can't get around much work they require every moment of the day, but she has a distant fondness for Lucas. The kid is smart, polite, quiet, but still very much a child. He hasn't quite grown out of that yet, a small bright spot in her life that is depressingly dreary most of the time.

She finishes and washes her hands, smiling at the soap dispenser disguised as a miniature killer robot; dries her hands on the Captain America towel (America's supersoldier--how much of that had to do with Lucas' father?); and leaves the bathroom.

Her mood is immediately crushed into the ground as she sees Taylor's brother at the end of the hall, walking toward her with an unpleasant smirk on his face.

She's not exactly prepared for a confrontation, but there's no way in hell she's backing down. Not from a marine, not from her CO's brother, and not from some asshole. Wash takes the offensive from him. "Big of you, terrorizing a woman that way. Suppose I shouldn't be surprised."

He takes a step forward, no doubt to intimidate her, but remains silent as his eyes narrow.

Wash remains cool and unflappable even though her heart is going a mile a minute, the adrenaline flowing as it looks more and more likely someone is going take a swing (it might be her--she can't say yet). "Just a warning, soldier to soldier, to back off."

"That's marine."

"Oh right, I forgot that marines are always compensating for something. You do it by intimidating women." She glances at his lone bar and smirks. "Good job, lieutenant. Maybe you'll get a promotion for it."

"You want to find out what I'm compensating for, corporal, just ask." He extends his arm to block the hall completely. "I'll gladly show you."

Wash snorts and shakes her head. "Typical. And all men think they're special." Her eyes rove from top to bottom and back up. "And you're not special."

His arm moves much faster than she expected, and he's suddenly gripping her shoulder hard. "Insubordination? I've got a special cell for mouthy little recruits like you."

The pressure bordering on pain as his fingers dig into her shoulder doesn't show at all on Wash's face. "Why don't we take the matter to my actual CO, not his overbearing little brother?"

It's in the eyes, the way they narrow, flare with something other than annoyance or anger, and Wash takes a deep breath before she meets his descending mouth with her own, knowing it's the absolutely wrong thing to do the entire time.

"Not a half-bad way to shut you up," he says when they separate, both breathing heavily.

"You're an asshole." And while she means it, there's no doubting the strange spark of attraction for him she feels. And that had been a better than average kiss on any scale.

"You got a thing for my brother?" The hand of his not still holding her arm slid up her neck to cup her jaw briefly with his thumb brushing across her cheek.

Only then does Wash realize her hand is holding his shirt in a deathgrip. "No."

"Miss Ayani thinks so." His hand falls away from her face as his eyes search hers for the truth (or a lie).

"I don't." She doesn't, and she doesn't believe Ayani thinks that either, but it's valuable insight on his character that he would say that. Yes, Wash would have to stay on her toes with this one.

"Good." He opens the door to his left and drags her inside the Taylor's bedroom. After shutting it, he shoves her against the closed door and kisses her again. It's a vigorous tussle (nothing so severe as a battle) of lips and tongues, and she's the one to initiate the gentle use of teeth to take hold of his lower lip.

He growls even as he grins against her hold. Without fighting it, allowing her this tiny bit of control, he reaches up and releases her hair from the clasp that's kept it in a loose version of her regulation style.

Wash releases his lip, and can't keep herself from asking, "Tell me, lieutenant, what makes a marine frighten a defenseless woman like that?"

With an exasperated sigh, his fingers threading through her hair, Miles shakes his head. "I was younger, drunker, much more combative with my brother. Do you really want to talk about this now? I have a much better idea, before we're missed."

"I do, or my idea will involve walking out of here no matter how much I want to bring a marine to his knees." Wash smiles as he closes his eyes and leans heavily against her.

"Jealousy, rivalry, stupidity. And then he knocked four teeth out for it. Can we drop it now?"

"I catch her crying because of you again, I will knock out four more."

"He train you all to be like this? All hard-nosed bitch and serious tease."

Wash grins, for some reason unable to take offense at his words. "All natural." There's a definite soft spot to this man, well protected by his overzealous marine attitude, but it's definitely there. "You'll back off Ayani?"

He groans. "Jesus, woman. If that's what it takes to get your pants off, I'll never even look at Miss Ayani again."

"And it takes so little to get yours off. My expectations are significantly lowered." She's taken by surprise when he lifts her, turns, and tosses her on the bed. "What are you--"

"Oh don't tell me. All this trouble for a blushing virgin?" But he's still planting his hands on either side of her, one knee between her legs while his other foot remains solidly on the floor.

"I'm not," Wash says with indignation, insulted at the implication. "Just... not in here, not on their bed."

"My brother won't mind. And Miss Ayani would be happy her favorite girl is getting her pipes cleaned by a man that knows what he's doing."

"You? No, I don't think she'd be happy at all."

Miles sits up, still smirking. "Fine, I'll make a deal with you. One for one, simple as that. Then you can tell Miss Ayani I didn't leave you..." He leans down and brushes his lips just against hers. "...wanting."

"One for one, to my satisfaction."

"I'll make it all about your satisfaction, corporal." His fingers begin to unbutton her shirt as his lips trail over to her ear. "Or should I call you Alicia?"

Her hands are loosening his belt. "I don't think so."

"If you insist. Then, tell me, Miss Alicia, how do you like it? Soft and sweet, or rou--"

"Don't you dare rip those buttons off. Mister Miles."

Softly, he chuckles in her ear. "If you insist, quick and dirty it is." He abandons her buttons to sit up again and undo her belt. "Now, Miss Alicia, I don't want to hear about you mooning over my brother when we're done here because you can't get my face out of your head."

Wash has his belt undone and is opening his fly. "Don't worry, Mister Miles. I won't have your face in my head." A wicked grin crosses her face, and inside she crows with triumph as something near annoyance twists his features for an instant.

"You don't stop, do you?"

"Can't handle it?"

Without warning, he stands and yanks her pants and underwear down to her knees. "Don't you concern yourself about what I can and can't handle, Miss Alicia. Avert your eyes if you're faint of heart." He starts to lower his pants and boxers.

Wash glances down, then looks back up, and shrugs. "I don't think they give out medals for being average, Mister Miles. I know I don't."

It's a smile full of amusement and tinged with respect that he gives Wash, though his eyes remain guarded other than the lust. "Over, Miss Alicia."

"I thought this was one for one."

"It is. I made a deal, I'm sticking to it, so don't worry your pretty little head. Now..." He makes that little spinning motion with his finger as he arches his right eyebrow.

"You are an asshole." But she's going anyway, choosing it over planting her boot in his gut and walking away (after pulling her pants up). Has it really been that long, or is she really so desperate that this is what she's sinking to?

But where else is she going to get that measure of satisfaction that she can't give to herself? She's around people all day, every day that she considers strictly off-limits, and other than that she can't remember seeing a flicker of interest from anyone not off-limits. Jesus, the most friendly physical contact she's had in recent memory is from Ayani earlier. "Must be easy for you, Mister Miles," Wash says in a moment of self-pitying weakness. "Go to any bar, grab a girl, head to the darkest corner, and get what you want."

He's on the bed behind her, and his hand slides up her thigh to her hip. "You could too. It's not tough."

His hand is warm, his grip firm yet gentle on her. "It's more complicated for a woman."

There's a brief moment of silence. Wash grips the pillow beneath her and braces herself for the inevitable brief and unsatisfying interlude.

"It's only as complicated as you want to make it, Miss Alicia."

"Right now I don't want it complicated at all, Mister Miles." Her eyes close as he slides slowly into her.

---

Both his brother and Wash have gone MIA, and he's vaguely concerned they may have beat one another to a pulp. Down the hall, and he hears a muffled noise, and his first reaction is to take a deep breath. If it's what he thinks it is, it actually doesn't surprise him at all.

Silently Taylor opens the bedroom door, and gets a view he really didn't ever want, but indeed, his suspicions are confirmed. His brother's back, thrusting away, a fall of dark hair on the pillow...

With a roll of his eyes, he backs out and shuts the door as silently as he opened it.

Ayani is walking quickly toward him, and gestures to the bedroom. "I just need to get my..."

His arm blocks the door from her. He says nothing, his eyes deadly serious, and shakes his head.

"Nathaniel, what--" Her eyes go wide and she covers her mouth with her hand. "How rude!" she whispers, and allows her husband to usher her away from the bedroom door.

---

Wash muffled her voice in the pillow as his fingers stroked her clit in rhythm with his thrusts.

"There's your one," he warns before he begins to pound into her, as hard and fast as he can.

And while she's certainly had her one, this vigorous assault on a different set of nerves sends her flying once again. At this rate, she'll have two to his one, and no way to repay it, though this is a very distant concern because that second is looming larger.

It builds as surely as his grip on her tightens, pulls her to meet him, with every grunt from his mouth. And she really can't think about anything else as her pleasure goes up another notch, so she buries her face in the pillow again.

He must know, must be able to feel it, because he reaches down again and strokes her erratically as he obviously gets closer to his own finish. Stronger, somehow harder, his fingers digging deeper...

The pain from his hold is what does it for Wash, and she makes a noise most resembling a low, mournful howl into the pillow as her entire body quivers, and she can feel her body starting to sag.

But his hold keeps her up, both hands on her hips now, until he suddenly snorts like a bull. With his breathing labored, heavy, he holds her against himself, until his hands loosen. He withdraws slowly, and lets her sink to the covers. Nothing is said, there is nothing to say between them, but his hand slowly trails down her leg as he stands slowly.

Wash unfolds her legs when she's free of his weight and slides off the bed, wobbling dangerously on weakened legs.

"Miss Alicia, corporal, pleased to make your acquaintance." He motions, something between a salute and a tip of an imaginary hat, and leaves the bedroom.

---

Ayani frowns gently when she sees Miles walking from the back hallway, buckling his belt. She manages a glare as he passes her in the kitchen, but he doesn't even glance in her direction.

Moments later, Alicia comes walking past, slowly, bordering on a stagger, and her normally perfect hair is in disarray.

The realization stuns her momentarily. "Alicia!" she hisses, and grabs the young woman's arm. With surprising strength, Ayani drags her into the kitchen, out of sight of the other soldiers. "What did you do?"

"I don't know what you mean."

"I'm not a fool. I know what you were doing! And just look at your hair!"

---

Wash stands still, knowing there's no point in fighting the woman, as Ayani fixes her hair, putting it back up close to how it was when she arrived. "Thank you. I didn't mean to... I mean, your bedroom." She doesn't blush, but it is something of a humbling moment.

But Ayani only looks at her with a deep sadness. "Oh, Alicia!"

Wash can only shrug, looking a little sheepish. "What can I say? It's been a while. And, uh, you may want to wash your comforter." She hugs the woman, who now looks stricken. "Don't worry. I can take care of myself, and he won't be bothering you more than absolutely necessary. He promised."

"You really shouldn't get involved with him. He's--"

"It was just a... thing. I'm not in love with him, ma'am."

The worry fades, the single crease in her brow smooths, and Ayani gets a faraway look in her eyes. "It would be nice to have you as part of the family."

Wash laughs, because it's so like the woman, to find the bright lining of any dark cloud. "No, ma'am, nothing even close to that. I just..." Had lost her mind temporarily.

"Needed to scratch an itch."

It was easy to forget this woman, now an army wife, if Taylor was to be believed, was something of a wild woman in their early days together, and was certainly not a prude. It wasn't the sex that disturbed her, or the choice of location, just Wash's choice of partner. Wash smiled, wide and bordering on a smirk. "That's it."

"Well take care of yourself, do you hear me? Don't let him get away with anything."

Wash stands at attention. "I won't, ma'am."

Now smiling, Ayani hugs her, her slender fingers stroking the back of Wash's neck briefly. "Don't take so long between visits next time."

"I won't. And thank you."

"Our home is open to you any time; you don't need to thank me."

It creates a warm fuzzy feeling in Wash's chest, and she's sure she's smiling like a fool.

The feeling stays with her as their little gathering slowly breaks up. There's only a few of them left when she sees the two brothers talking quietly. A handshake, and the younger slips out the side door without fanfare (or goodbyes).

It takes a moment for Wash to come to a decision before she hurries out after him.

Wash runs down the walk and grabs his arm to spin him around. When he does, she's surprised by the mild look of something near contentment on his face.

"Something wrong, Miss Alicia?"

The initial question Wash is prepared to ask falls away, for her to ask instead, "Why'd you come here today?"

A shrug. "Been a while. Wanted to see if my brother was still climbing the ranks, see if Miss Ayani was still as gorgeous as the night I met her. Don't tell anyone."

"That you have the worst way of showing familial affection? Don't worry about that one. No one would believe it anyway."

"Probably true. So what did you really come out here to ask me?"

Wash takes a breath. "It was one for one."

"Not embarrassed to say there's not much more going to happen for a little bit. But you can owe me one, Miss Alicia."

Wash shakes her head. "Oh no, I'm not owing you anything. I'm not having this hang over my head."

His smile is so... mild, so disarming, barely more than a hardly-visible upturning of the line of his mouth, that Wash finds herself wanting to kiss him again. "Tonight. You know Wilson's Pub?" At her nod, he steps closer, into her personal space. "I'll see you there, at 2200, and then I'll show you how uncomplicated one of those dark corners can be, Miss Alicia."

And then he's walking away, off down the sidewalk, leaving her standing alone and frowning after him.

fic

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