Vanishing Act
Title: Vanishing Act
Author: Melissima
Rating: FRAO
Pairings: CHP Officer Carolyn Morris/Charlie, non-explicit Larry/Professor Laurel Wilson.
Warnings: public sex.
Disclaimer: Not my toys, I just borrow them from Heuton/Falacci and CBS.
A/N: Part of my Officer Hottie 'verse. More fic on the series Master List
Spoilers: Sabotage and Manhunt.
Feedback: Yes please! Constructive criticism is welcome.
Summary: A sweet celebration leads to naughty fun....
Charlie surveyed the milling crowd of people clustered around his office and grinned. His father had outdone himself with a chocolate-fudge sheet cake decorated with a large pi symbol in white icing. Larry had decided to play mad scientist by making liquid nitrogen ice cream, accessorizing his lab coat, goggles and gloves with a pointy party hat. Students and faculty alike crowded in to tease Charlie about his big 3-0. And best of all? No jokes this year about another birthday without a date. He looked over at Cari just in time to see her lick ice cream from the back of her spoon. He licked his lips and she leered, dropping him a wink.
He marveled for the hundredth time at their chance meeting four months ago; he owed his brother for bringing him along on that prison escape case. Don had commented that Cari didn't seem his type, but Charlie knew deep down that he wanted her because she wasn’t. He guessed he needed someone to talk him into things. Or drag, or kidnap, as the case may be. She was his chaos butterfly, setting him spinning in new directions, constantly challenging his social assumptions and tilting his comfortable patterns until he fell out of them completely.
"Charles?" He shook off his thoughts at the sound of his name. Larry handed a bowl of vapor-shrouded ice cream to Laurel Wilson with an awkward flourish. "This is the last batch of ice cream. I trust you and Carolyn can keep watch over the liquid nitrogen?"
"No problem," Charlie told him with a smile. Larry shed his party hat and safety gear, then led Laurel away with a hand on her back, his expression both sheepish and delighted. Charlie wielded the ice cream scoop, accepting a few latecomers' requests for toppings along with their birthday wishes.
Cari amused herself by finding opportunities to drive him crazy without showing anything but a friendly smile to the room: she spoke breathily into his ear, stashed things in his jeans pockets and let her breasts brush his arm as she leaned across him to reach a container of sprinkles. Finally he scooped for the last person in line, a grad student who asked for chocolate syrup. Cari drizzled syrup over the ice cream while Charlie held the bowl. She caught his eye as she tilted the bottle, letting the stream trail across the edge and onto his fingers. He reached for the stack of paper napkins, but she pushed them away. She swept her thumb through the mess on his hand and sucked the syrup from it with a blissful little hum. "Mmm . . . Cake and ice cream are good," she whispered, "but I’d rather make dessert of you.” She grinned wickedly at him when he made no further attempt to wipe his fingers.
Charlie fought off an impulse to announce, ’Thanks for coming!’ in the tone of voice he usually reserved for ‘Class dismissed!’ He took a steadying breath and glanced around for someone he could put in charge of the nitrogen, but Larry and Laurel were nowhere to be seen.
“Shouldn't have said I’d watch it,” Charlie grumbled. His students could make an amazing amount of mischief if they got their hands on the stuff. A memory came to him of the library steps on Halloween, oozing with melted pumpkin guts. Still, he didn’t want to miss out on Cari's brand of mischief either.
He scanned the room again and spotted his father chatting with the new Life Sciences professor. "Hey Dad," he called, waving his sticky hand by way of explanation. "I need to go, um, get cleaned up and I can't find Larry. Can you just keep an eye on the liquid nitrogen for me?"
Alan's expression was full of etiquette reminders for his son, but he nodded. He came over to the desk, offering the battered visitor’s chair to Professor Jimenez. "I'm sorry, Sonya, you were saying?"
Scrambling for an excuse to bring Cari with him, Charlie glanced over to see her gathering dirty paper plates. She carried the garbage over to the bin by the door and dropped it in, continuing out into the hall. Charlie stuffed the bottle of chocolate syrup in his back pocket and strode after her, feeling like he was playing hooky.
When he turned the corner outside his office, she fisted the collar of his polo shirt and pulled him with her, walking backwards. She paused to kiss him deeply just a few steps from the door. "I saw a perfect spot when I came in." She looked around to get her bearings, then started to back up again. “It was on the right, just a little farther.”
He let himself be pulled along, holding his syrup covered hand away from their clothes. He tucked his free hand into the back pocket of her jeans, his eyes locked on hers. “I hope whatever you’re planning is more private than the elevator thing.”
“You liked the elevator thing.” She grabbed his outstretched wrist and brought it up to her mouth. Her tongue slid over his palm and between his fingers as she licked the chocolate from his skin, triggering powerful sense memories of her mouth painting heat over his throat, his stomach, his cock.
He stumbled and stopped, biting his lip to get control of his breathing. “At least let me sit down before my knees buckle.”
"Aw, but I like you on your knees," she purred, chuckling when he blushed. She steered him into a tiny vestibule that was shielded from the hallway by a sharp ninety-degree turn. "Actually . . . .” She slid her hand down and under his shirt to unbutton his jeans. “I think it's my turn to go there.”
He clapped his hand over hers and whispered, "God, Cari. Please don't tease me."
"Who says I'm teasing?" She gave him a mock-wounded look as she peeled his hand away. "It's your birthday, sweetie.” She eased his zipper down. “I'm not even going to make you ask nicely first." She folded to her knees and swallowed his cock, her short nails scratching at the backs of his denim covered thighs.
He knew he should stop her, but the risk thrilled him. He slid his fingers into the hair at the nape of her neck, fighting to stay silent as bolts of pleasure shot through his body.
"Charlie? Charlie!” His father's voice startled him and his involuntary gasp seemed deafening. Charlie covered his mouth with one hand to muffle his ragged breathing as Cari reluctantly pulled away, her expression almost feral. They both held still, except for Charlie's quiet and mostly successful attempt to straighten his clothes.
“Where the hell did he go?” Alan muttered, passing within mere feet of them. “Worse than a teenager lately...”
After listening to retreating footsteps for a dozen thudding heartbeats, Charlie swallowed, trying to work some moisture back into his mouth. "Cari," he breathed, "I know it's quiet this time of day, but anybody could just . . . I’m a tenured professor. I can’t do this here."
"Hey, it's your call, birthday boy." She stood, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Her face was tight with disappointment and he almost caved. After an awkward moment, he threw his arms around her neck and kissed her, letting the kiss pop noisily as they separated. “Come on. I'll show you the least libidinous place on campus."
Charlie laughed at her confusion as he dragged her by the hand out of the little vestibule and down the hall to a small unused classroom he sometimes used for research. The door was marked Faculty Only in bold black letters as big as his fist, partly to discourage students from exactly what he was planning to do. He opened the door and turned to enter but froze before he could step inside. The room was not unoccupied. Cari shifted to peer into the room and stifled a giggle into the fabric at his shoulder. It startled Charlie into action and he gingerly pushed the door shut.
Once they were safely away from the door, Cari couldn't hold back her laughter. "Oh God," she gasped. “Was that really Larry?”
Charlie nodded woodenly, his eyes wide. "I had no idea Professor Wilson was that . . . assertive. Or that Larry . . ." He shuddered. "I'd really rather not know that, actually."
Cari smoothed a hand down his back consolingly. “So much for your ‘tenured professor’ theory.”
His jaw went slack and he put his face in his hands. "It's official," he mumbled into his palms. "I am less kinky than Dr. Lawrence Fleinhardt.”
"Well then . . . ." She wrapped her arms around him and plucked the bottle of chocolate syrup from his back pocket. "Find us another spot, Dr. Eppes, because I can definitely top that.”
He brightened, settling his hands on her hips to pull her closer. “You have an evil mind. I like it.” He looked back the way they came, mentally cataloguing the offices and classrooms, trying to find somewhere they wouldn’t be disturbed. “Where would I be without you?”
"Back in your office guarding the nitrogen tank while Larry has all the fun?” Cari pointed in the opposite direction. "Hey, if you have a key for that door we can finally throw our own little party.”
The discreet sign on the door read ‘Maintenance.’ He fished his keys out of his pocket and held them up, jingling them triumphantly.
"Happy birthday to me!”
Author: Melissima
Rating: FRAO
Pairings: CHP Officer Carolyn Morris/Charlie, non-explicit Larry/Professor Laurel Wilson.
Warnings: public sex.
Disclaimer: Not my toys, I just borrow them from Heuton/Falacci and CBS.
A/N: Part of my Officer Hottie 'verse. More fic on the series Master List
Spoilers: Sabotage and Manhunt.
Feedback: Yes please! Constructive criticism is welcome.
Summary: A sweet celebration leads to naughty fun....
Charlie surveyed the milling crowd of people clustered around his office and grinned. His father had outdone himself with a chocolate-fudge sheet cake decorated with a large pi symbol in white icing. Larry had decided to play mad scientist by making liquid nitrogen ice cream, accessorizing his lab coat, goggles and gloves with a pointy party hat. Students and faculty alike crowded in to tease Charlie about his big 3-0. And best of all? No jokes this year about another birthday without a date. He looked over at Cari just in time to see her lick ice cream from the back of her spoon. He licked his lips and she leered, dropping him a wink.
He marveled for the hundredth time at their chance meeting four months ago; he owed his brother for bringing him along on that prison escape case. Don had commented that Cari didn't seem his type, but Charlie knew deep down that he wanted her because she wasn’t. He guessed he needed someone to talk him into things. Or drag, or kidnap, as the case may be. She was his chaos butterfly, setting him spinning in new directions, constantly challenging his social assumptions and tilting his comfortable patterns until he fell out of them completely.
"Charles?" He shook off his thoughts at the sound of his name. Larry handed a bowl of vapor-shrouded ice cream to Laurel Wilson with an awkward flourish. "This is the last batch of ice cream. I trust you and Carolyn can keep watch over the liquid nitrogen?"
"No problem," Charlie told him with a smile. Larry shed his party hat and safety gear, then led Laurel away with a hand on her back, his expression both sheepish and delighted. Charlie wielded the ice cream scoop, accepting a few latecomers' requests for toppings along with their birthday wishes.
Cari amused herself by finding opportunities to drive him crazy without showing anything but a friendly smile to the room: she spoke breathily into his ear, stashed things in his jeans pockets and let her breasts brush his arm as she leaned across him to reach a container of sprinkles. Finally he scooped for the last person in line, a grad student who asked for chocolate syrup. Cari drizzled syrup over the ice cream while Charlie held the bowl. She caught his eye as she tilted the bottle, letting the stream trail across the edge and onto his fingers. He reached for the stack of paper napkins, but she pushed them away. She swept her thumb through the mess on his hand and sucked the syrup from it with a blissful little hum. "Mmm . . . Cake and ice cream are good," she whispered, "but I’d rather make dessert of you.” She grinned wickedly at him when he made no further attempt to wipe his fingers.
Charlie fought off an impulse to announce, ’Thanks for coming!’ in the tone of voice he usually reserved for ‘Class dismissed!’ He took a steadying breath and glanced around for someone he could put in charge of the nitrogen, but Larry and Laurel were nowhere to be seen.
“Shouldn't have said I’d watch it,” Charlie grumbled. His students could make an amazing amount of mischief if they got their hands on the stuff. A memory came to him of the library steps on Halloween, oozing with melted pumpkin guts. Still, he didn’t want to miss out on Cari's brand of mischief either.
He scanned the room again and spotted his father chatting with the new Life Sciences professor. "Hey Dad," he called, waving his sticky hand by way of explanation. "I need to go, um, get cleaned up and I can't find Larry. Can you just keep an eye on the liquid nitrogen for me?"
Alan's expression was full of etiquette reminders for his son, but he nodded. He came over to the desk, offering the battered visitor’s chair to Professor Jimenez. "I'm sorry, Sonya, you were saying?"
Scrambling for an excuse to bring Cari with him, Charlie glanced over to see her gathering dirty paper plates. She carried the garbage over to the bin by the door and dropped it in, continuing out into the hall. Charlie stuffed the bottle of chocolate syrup in his back pocket and strode after her, feeling like he was playing hooky.
When he turned the corner outside his office, she fisted the collar of his polo shirt and pulled him with her, walking backwards. She paused to kiss him deeply just a few steps from the door. "I saw a perfect spot when I came in." She looked around to get her bearings, then started to back up again. “It was on the right, just a little farther.”
He let himself be pulled along, holding his syrup covered hand away from their clothes. He tucked his free hand into the back pocket of her jeans, his eyes locked on hers. “I hope whatever you’re planning is more private than the elevator thing.”
“You liked the elevator thing.” She grabbed his outstretched wrist and brought it up to her mouth. Her tongue slid over his palm and between his fingers as she licked the chocolate from his skin, triggering powerful sense memories of her mouth painting heat over his throat, his stomach, his cock.
He stumbled and stopped, biting his lip to get control of his breathing. “At least let me sit down before my knees buckle.”
"Aw, but I like you on your knees," she purred, chuckling when he blushed. She steered him into a tiny vestibule that was shielded from the hallway by a sharp ninety-degree turn. "Actually . . . .” She slid her hand down and under his shirt to unbutton his jeans. “I think it's my turn to go there.”
He clapped his hand over hers and whispered, "God, Cari. Please don't tease me."
"Who says I'm teasing?" She gave him a mock-wounded look as she peeled his hand away. "It's your birthday, sweetie.” She eased his zipper down. “I'm not even going to make you ask nicely first." She folded to her knees and swallowed his cock, her short nails scratching at the backs of his denim covered thighs.
He knew he should stop her, but the risk thrilled him. He slid his fingers into the hair at the nape of her neck, fighting to stay silent as bolts of pleasure shot through his body.
"Charlie? Charlie!” His father's voice startled him and his involuntary gasp seemed deafening. Charlie covered his mouth with one hand to muffle his ragged breathing as Cari reluctantly pulled away, her expression almost feral. They both held still, except for Charlie's quiet and mostly successful attempt to straighten his clothes.
“Where the hell did he go?” Alan muttered, passing within mere feet of them. “Worse than a teenager lately...”
After listening to retreating footsteps for a dozen thudding heartbeats, Charlie swallowed, trying to work some moisture back into his mouth. "Cari," he breathed, "I know it's quiet this time of day, but anybody could just . . . I’m a tenured professor. I can’t do this here."
"Hey, it's your call, birthday boy." She stood, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Her face was tight with disappointment and he almost caved. After an awkward moment, he threw his arms around her neck and kissed her, letting the kiss pop noisily as they separated. “Come on. I'll show you the least libidinous place on campus."
Charlie laughed at her confusion as he dragged her by the hand out of the little vestibule and down the hall to a small unused classroom he sometimes used for research. The door was marked Faculty Only in bold black letters as big as his fist, partly to discourage students from exactly what he was planning to do. He opened the door and turned to enter but froze before he could step inside. The room was not unoccupied. Cari shifted to peer into the room and stifled a giggle into the fabric at his shoulder. It startled Charlie into action and he gingerly pushed the door shut.
Once they were safely away from the door, Cari couldn't hold back her laughter. "Oh God," she gasped. “Was that really Larry?”
Charlie nodded woodenly, his eyes wide. "I had no idea Professor Wilson was that . . . assertive. Or that Larry . . ." He shuddered. "I'd really rather not know that, actually."
Cari smoothed a hand down his back consolingly. “So much for your ‘tenured professor’ theory.”
His jaw went slack and he put his face in his hands. "It's official," he mumbled into his palms. "I am less kinky than Dr. Lawrence Fleinhardt.”
"Well then . . . ." She wrapped her arms around him and plucked the bottle of chocolate syrup from his back pocket. "Find us another spot, Dr. Eppes, because I can definitely top that.”
He brightened, settling his hands on her hips to pull her closer. “You have an evil mind. I like it.” He looked back the way they came, mentally cataloguing the offices and classrooms, trying to find somewhere they wouldn’t be disturbed. “Where would I be without you?”
"Back in your office guarding the nitrogen tank while Larry has all the fun?” Cari pointed in the opposite direction. "Hey, if you have a key for that door we can finally throw our own little party.”
The discreet sign on the door read ‘Maintenance.’ He fished his keys out of his pocket and held them up, jingling them triumphantly.
"Happy birthday to me!”