FIC: Flush, Cam/Cabot, rated R.
Title: Flush
Rating: R
Fandoms Crossed: Bones/L&O:SVU
Pairings/Characters: Camille Saroyan / Alex Cabot
Seasons/Spoilers: Consider this a post-Guilt AU.
Disclaimers: Bones, its concepts and its characters, and Law and Order: SVU and its concepts and its characters belong to their respective owners, which do not happen to be me. No copyright infringement is intended.
Author's Notes: This was originally intended to be a short sex snippet for the lovely greenovalfruit, only somehow it grew and there's acutally very little sex involved...No worries, lovely, I do have plans to fix that. Eventually. *smiles* With gratitude to ariestess for the beta job. She fixed it, then I tweaked it, any mistakes you find are mine after the fact.
It starts with a glance; a sly, subtle challenge in the meeting of eyes and the curving of lips. At first Cam is startled, but then she's intrigued. Who is this woman, this diner waitress who fields interested men easily and dismissively, her shoulders down and head up, facing the world head on? And more importantly, would she be interested in a game of cards?
It continues through dinner and dancing. There Camille learns that there's more to this woman than meets the eye, something in her poise and the way she orders her meal and the wine in flawless French, the way her smile is warm and her laugh just this side of husky. The place they're at is upscale, quiet, and discreet enough that when blue eyes linger on the dance floor, Cam finds herself rising and offering her hand. She's never made any secrets about her sexuality, and it's not like a waitress would have anything to hide.
So Camille leads her onto the dance floor and slides one hand over her waist and around the curve of her lower back, pulling her just a little bit closer. They lean into each other as they dance; the play of blonde and brunette enough to draw eyes from all over the room, though they only have eyes for each other.
They tease and they taunt throughout the night, Camille delighted to find someone who gives just as good as she gets. The verbal sparring is nice, something she hadn't known she was missing. By dessert she's finding herself hoping her date will invite her inside for a nightcap.
The lingering goodnight kiss, filled with hints of longing and promise, leave her disappointed, but smiling on the drive home.
And if she can't concentrate on work the next day, because she's thinking of long limbs and ragged moans, well, Cam just blames that on the break room coffee and a case that calls for very little of her expertise.
Then the hesitant, welcoming kiss she gets before their second date shoots a thrill down her spine. The daisies must have been a hit, and the hint of heartbreak in those clear blue eyes makes all the walls Cam's got built crack, just a little bit. Affectionately, she rubs their noses together, drops a kiss on those irresistible lips and leads her down to the car.
Finally, finally, she gets asked inside. It's their fourth date, and it's been too long for the both of them. They barely make it through the door before Cam finds herself pushed back into the wall and kissed breathless, making her laugh at the unexpected aggression. Hands roam over lithe bodies, pinching and fondling, and clothing is shed on the way before they're tumbling into the bed, hissing and moaning and breathless laughter filling the room.
Later, Camille drifts off, fingering the bruise of bite marks left on pale flesh, and revels in the burn of scratches over her own skin. This is right, she thinks. A winning hand. If she plays her cards right, maybe they'll have a chance to do it all over again before she has to leave for work. And if not, well, there's always tomorrow night...
But then it ends, six months later, with the clatter of a spoon against the counter as men in suits and glasses stalk into the diner. Cam is surprised, confused at the wide, panicked eyes and ragged breathing these men inspire.
"Ms. Cabot. It's time to come home."
Rating: R
Fandoms Crossed: Bones/L&O:SVU
Pairings/Characters: Camille Saroyan / Alex Cabot
Seasons/Spoilers: Consider this a post-Guilt AU.
Disclaimers: Bones, its concepts and its characters, and Law and Order: SVU and its concepts and its characters belong to their respective owners, which do not happen to be me. No copyright infringement is intended.
Author's Notes: This was originally intended to be a short sex snippet for the lovely greenovalfruit, only somehow it grew and there's acutally very little sex involved...No worries, lovely, I do have plans to fix that. Eventually. *smiles* With gratitude to ariestess for the beta job. She fixed it, then I tweaked it, any mistakes you find are mine after the fact.
It starts with a glance; a sly, subtle challenge in the meeting of eyes and the curving of lips. At first Cam is startled, but then she's intrigued. Who is this woman, this diner waitress who fields interested men easily and dismissively, her shoulders down and head up, facing the world head on? And more importantly, would she be interested in a game of cards?
It continues through dinner and dancing. There Camille learns that there's more to this woman than meets the eye, something in her poise and the way she orders her meal and the wine in flawless French, the way her smile is warm and her laugh just this side of husky. The place they're at is upscale, quiet, and discreet enough that when blue eyes linger on the dance floor, Cam finds herself rising and offering her hand. She's never made any secrets about her sexuality, and it's not like a waitress would have anything to hide.
So Camille leads her onto the dance floor and slides one hand over her waist and around the curve of her lower back, pulling her just a little bit closer. They lean into each other as they dance; the play of blonde and brunette enough to draw eyes from all over the room, though they only have eyes for each other.
They tease and they taunt throughout the night, Camille delighted to find someone who gives just as good as she gets. The verbal sparring is nice, something she hadn't known she was missing. By dessert she's finding herself hoping her date will invite her inside for a nightcap.
The lingering goodnight kiss, filled with hints of longing and promise, leave her disappointed, but smiling on the drive home.
And if she can't concentrate on work the next day, because she's thinking of long limbs and ragged moans, well, Cam just blames that on the break room coffee and a case that calls for very little of her expertise.
Then the hesitant, welcoming kiss she gets before their second date shoots a thrill down her spine. The daisies must have been a hit, and the hint of heartbreak in those clear blue eyes makes all the walls Cam's got built crack, just a little bit. Affectionately, she rubs their noses together, drops a kiss on those irresistible lips and leads her down to the car.
Finally, finally, she gets asked inside. It's their fourth date, and it's been too long for the both of them. They barely make it through the door before Cam finds herself pushed back into the wall and kissed breathless, making her laugh at the unexpected aggression. Hands roam over lithe bodies, pinching and fondling, and clothing is shed on the way before they're tumbling into the bed, hissing and moaning and breathless laughter filling the room.
Later, Camille drifts off, fingering the bruise of bite marks left on pale flesh, and revels in the burn of scratches over her own skin. This is right, she thinks. A winning hand. If she plays her cards right, maybe they'll have a chance to do it all over again before she has to leave for work. And if not, well, there's always tomorrow night...
But then it ends, six months later, with the clatter of a spoon against the counter as men in suits and glasses stalk into the diner. Cam is surprised, confused at the wide, panicked eyes and ragged breathing these men inspire.
"Ms. Cabot. It's time to come home."