There was a bottle of tequila on the table between them.
It was always there between them, because its very presence was enough to allow them to continue denying there was anything else there.
He reached over, tugging her into his lap, waiting for resistance that never came.
She reached back for the bottle, taking a drink, smiling, handing it to him.
He took a pull and put it back, hands landing on her hips. Her lips were sweet and sticky from the alcohol, her skin was sticky and sweet from his lips.
And the alcohol between them, dulling his senses as it ran through his veins, and the fact that she had a boyfriend she'd be running back to didn't mean a damn thing.
Because she here.
She was real.
And no amount of bullshit they put between them made a damn bit of difference.
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Since it fits the occasion so well, how about 'sleeping in'? Some D/L if you don't mind ;P
I'm doing drabbles this weekend too, if you'd like to request a couple ;P
http://jaydenbell.livejournal.com/90793.html?thread=473769#t473769
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Almost everything, really.
Except for this annoying bright shiny morning thing she did.
He wasn't really sure how he'd ended up with a morning person. And he found it really, really annoying.
Especially today, a rare shared day off, meant for sleeping in.
He thought he was going to teach her that with the whole snow day thing, but that hadn't exactly turned out the way he'd intended.
So maybe today he'd teach her, as his arms snaked more tightly around her waist whenever she started to climb out of bed.
"I'm just gonna get breakfast," she protested.
"Later," he said, kissing her shoulder.
She smiled. "If I do it later, it won't be breakfast," she pointed.
"Breakfast is overrated."
"It's the most important meal of the day."
"I can think of a lot of things that are more important than breakfast," he said with a grin.
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Thanks so much for this! You rock!
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Stella shrugged. "I got the late shift."
"Shame the criminals didn't give you a break for the holiday."
She smiled. "That was awfully insensitive of them."
He nodded. "You're gonna miss the fireworks."
She glanced at her watch. "I suppose I could take a little break."
He smirked. "Come with me, I'll get you a front row seat."
She followed him up the steps to the roof and stepped out into the cooling night air as colorful explosions lit up the night sky.
"This almost makes being stuck at work bearable, huh?" he asked.
She nodded. "Almost."
He leaned down and kissed her softly. "Let's see if we can make it a little better than almost."
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It was always there between them, because its very presence was enough to allow them to continue denying there was anything else there.
He reached over, tugging her into his lap, waiting for resistance that never came.
She reached back for the bottle, taking a drink, smiling, handing it to him.
He took a pull and put it back, hands landing on her hips. Her lips were sweet and sticky from the alcohol, her skin was sticky and sweet from his lips.
And the alcohol between them, dulling his senses as it ran through his veins, and the fact that she had a boyfriend she'd be running back to didn't mean a damn thing.
Because she here.
She was real.
And no amount of bullshit they put between them made a damn bit of difference.
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Dean shook his head. "I'm a mimic, sweetheart, not a celebrity impersonator."
"You can do Carter," Jaimie pointed out.
"Carter's easy," he said with a grin. "I can do accents."
"You can do a cheap Bronx accent," she muttered.
"And Boston."
She rolled her eyes. "Oh yeah, that's hot."
He shrugged. "I'm not sure someone who pretends she's from New Jersey should talk."
"So I ask for George Clooney and I get a guy from Boston."
He kissed her playfully, pushing her back on the couch. "That's how it goes sometimes."
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Which is freaking perfect by the way. I'm falling more and more in love with these two by the day!
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