Dinner and Reflection (Law & Order: UK)
Title: Dinner and Reflection
Author: Persiflage_1
Characters/Pairings: Alesha/James
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: 3.02 Hounded
Summary: Alesha and James have dinner.
Disclaimer: ITV owns Law & Order: UK
Author Notes: Um, it's quite possible that I'll end up writing an entire series worth of tag fics for S3.
~~~~~~
"Poor Judy," Alesha says softly as they walk away from her house.
"Yeah," agrees James.
She slides her arm through his. "You okay?" she asks.
"I'm fine," he says, without much conviction in his voice.
They walk in silence for a while, both deep in their own thoughts. Alesha is surprised James doesn't seem more satisfied - not that Darnell's dead, but that he's been proved right in his certainty that Darnell wasn't really rehabilitated. James isn't the type to be vindictive, but she'd expected him to show more emotion. Right now he seems blank.
"I spoke to Darnell earlier," he says.
Alesha stops walking, shocked. "What?
He doesn't meet her eyes, as if he's ashamed of what he's saying. "I went to see him," James says. "I wanted him to get police protection, so we'd know where he was at all times, so we could stop him doing it again."
"James!" She can hardly believe her ears. "What if he'd complained? You could've been accused of harassment or intimidation."
"I know," he says more softly. "But I was worried about what he might do, Alesha. You, of all people, should understand that."
She stares up at him; his eyes are shadowed. "James, you cannot turn into an avenging crusader against every rapist we have to deal with. They're not all Merrick."
"I know," he says, taking her hand in his and twining his fingers with hers; they resume walking. "But I'd dealt with Darnell before."
"I know, but sometimes your militant attitude scares me," she adds more quietly.
"Alesha!" He halts again, sounding shocked.
She looks up at him; they're standing under a streetlight now, and she can see he's appalled by her words. "James, sometimes you really deserve that nickname of Kim's, and I don't mean in a sexy way." She lifts her free hand and cups his cheek. "I'm not saying you scare me, just your militant attitude - you can be very ruthless at times."
He puts his hand over hers and squeezes her fingers. "I'm sorry."
She nods, slips her hand free, and begins to walk again. "You still owe me dinner," she reminds him.
"Are you sure you want to tonight?" He sounds doubtful.
"I'd rather have dinner with you, than have you go off to the pub by yourself and drink too much," she tells him.
He nods acceptance, and flags down a cab. "Come on then," he says, helping her inside. "Dinner it is."
* * * * * *
They eat in a good restaurant - not one where they'll feel awkward for not being dressed to the nines, but one with discreet service and good food, the two things they both want. James seems to eat mechanically until they reach the dessert.
"What do you fancy?" he asks. She grins suddenly, unable to help herself, and he (adorably) blushes. "I mean for dessert."
Alesha's grin just widens. "Something sinfully chocolaty," she says, eyes wide, and lips parted slightly.
He swallows a moan - she can tell by the look in his eyes, since it's one she's seen often. "You can be a very wicked tease, sometimes," he tells her, his voice somewhat unsteady.
Her grin becomes a smirk. "But you like it really," she says, confident of her ground.
He shifts slightly in the chair, still a little flushed, and she knows that he's aroused. "I do," he agrees in a low voice, glancing up at the approaching waiter.
"Good."
* * * * * *
Watching Alesha eat her chocolate dessert is an exquisite form of torture for James; he's never known a woman eat as sensuously as Alesha occasionally does, and it makes him ache with desire, but he knows he'll have to control himself.
Eventually, though, the meal is finished, and he pays the bill with a sense of relief at their impending escape.
"Do you want to come back to mine?" he asks as he buttons up his wool coat, wishing he'd worn the longer one today instead, since it covers a far greater multitude of sins.
She smiles up at him. "Why don't you come back to mine?" she suggests. She slips her hand into his and he starts in surprise when she pushes both their hands into his coat pocket, and then angles her hand to lightly stroke his arousal.
"Alesha Phillips," he hisses.
"Yes Mr Steel?" Her face is a picture of innocence, apart from a very knowing glint in her eyes.
"Wicked tease," he says. "If you carry on like that, I'm not sure I can be responsible for my actions."
He's surprised that she seems unfazed by this, and even more surprised when she moves towards a less well-lit side street.
"Alesha?"
"It's okay James." She leads the way down the street until it turns a corner into a dead end. She looks around, then up at the buildings, all of which are dark, then turns back to him.
"What are we doing?" he asks quietly, not quite daring to believe that she is going to engage in a sex act with him in a street, even if it is a dark side street.
"What would you like to do?" she asks, her tone quite serious.
"Go home," he says, "and make love to you."
She pouts, and he swallows down a laugh. "You don't want to be adventurous?" She sounds quite disappointed, so he reaches out to wrap his arms around her and pull her close.
"Every day with you is an adventure," he says, then rolls his eyes. "I know, that sounds sappy, but -"
The rest of his sentence is lost as Alesha stretches up and kisses him deeply. "All right," she says once she releases him. "Let's go home."
* * * * * *
The cab ride back to Alesha's flat seems interminable, though it's not, and he sits resolutely still, only their clasped hands betraying that they're a couple.
Alesha lets them in and James is careful to take his time about unwinding his scarf and taking off his coat, but as soon as he's hung up his things, she grabs his hand and tugs, leading him impatiently towards her bedroom.
"Someone's in a hurry," he observes, smirking.
She utters a breathless affirmative, then backs him up to the bed until he sits abruptly when it hits the back of his legs. Alesha unfastens his trousers, freeing his erection, then reaches under her skirt for her thong, and James gently clasps her wrists.
"Hey, what happened to making love?" he asks softly. "There's no rush, and I'm not so desperate that I want it to all be over in five minutes flat."
"I thought you wanted me," she says, sounding hurt.
"Of course I do, silly, all the time. But I want to make love to you slowly, not have a frenzied fuck that lasts barely five minutes. Is that okay?"
"Yes," she whispers, so he smiles and standing up, begins to undress her slowly, with lots of kisses to her jaw, neck, shoulders, breasts, belly, and then thighs as each item of clothing is removed and more of her lovely dark skin is bared.
By the time she's entirely naked she's trembling. "You okay?" he asks, somewhat concerned.
"Just - hurry up, will you?" she says, sounding suddenly self conscious, and he wonders if it's the fact that she's completely naked while he's fully dressed, aside from his trousers being open exposing his obvious arousal.
He smiles and leans in for a brief, almost chaste, kiss on the lips, then steps back. "Sure you don't want to do this?" he asks, about to remove his jacket.
"No. I'm just going to watch."
He smirks, then gestures at the bed. "Sit down, then."
She does, and he slips off his jacket, then begins unbuttoning his shirt, his eyes fixed firmly on her face; he feels himself becoming even more aroused when he spots the fire of desire in her eyes, and notes her tongue slipping over her slightly parted lips. She clenches her thighs together and he smirks again, before lifting a foot to remove his shoe and sock.
"James!" she moans, her tone pleading with him to hurry up.
"Yes Alesha?" he asks, adopting a tone of innocence that's at odds with the erection poking out of his trousers as he removes his other shoe and sock.
"Hurry up!" she says insistently.
He glances over at the bed, and sees her fists are clenched in the duvet, and grins as he finally slips off his trousers, pleased that he'd opted to go commando this morning.
"Get over here now," she says emphatically, and he laughs, then moves to join her on the bed, lying on his left side. He kisses her deeply as he skims his hand down over her belly and between her thighs to slip two fingers into her slick heat.
Alesha clutches the back of his neck with one hand, and he feels her internal muscles squeezing tightly around his fingers as he concentrates on satisfying her. When they pull apart for much needed air, she begins to moan and gasp and mutter incoherently as he drives her closer and closer to orgasm.
"James!" She yelps his name as her orgasm reaches its peak and he smiles gently at her, continuing to stroke her through the aftershocks.
"Okay?" he asks softly as she falls limply against the pillows, a sated look in her eyes.
"Yeah." She is breathing heavily, and he eases his hand free, then rubs her belly with his knuckles.
"Good. Do you want to go on top?" She shakes her head, so he moves over her, easily slipping his cock inside her. She shifts underneath him and he raises his eyebrows enquiringly.
"Sorry," she mutters, looking a little embarrassed at her own impatience.
He chuckles, then ducks his head to kiss her languidly as he thrusts in a slow, steady rhythm allowing his pleasure to build. Although he has no problems with Alesha usually being in control and dictating the pace, it is nice, sometimes, to take charge himself.
They reach their climax together, something he finds particularly satisfying, and he wraps his arms around her, then rolls onto his back. Alesha nuzzles against him and he grins unseen as he strokes her back and shoulders.
"James?"
"Mm-hmm."
She lifts her head to look at him, eyes glinting with amusement and something else. "You're not going to sleep are you?"
"Certainly not," he says. "I'm just basking."
She laughs, then pushes herself up to lean her elbows on his chest so they can look at each other while they talk. She's such a petite woman, and he loves the fact that he can easily pick her up, or that she can lie here, propped up on his chest, and it's comfortable for both of them.
"Do you want to have a shower?" she asks.
"Not right away," he protests. "I'm comfy here. Aren't you comfy here?"
She laughs again. "Yeah, I'm comfy."
"Good."
He doesn't see a need to leap out of bed now: it's nice to just snuggle up with the woman he loves.
Author: Persiflage_1
Characters/Pairings: Alesha/James
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: 3.02 Hounded
Summary: Alesha and James have dinner.
Disclaimer: ITV owns Law & Order: UK
Author Notes: Um, it's quite possible that I'll end up writing an entire series worth of tag fics for S3.
~~~~~~
"Poor Judy," Alesha says softly as they walk away from her house.
"Yeah," agrees James.
She slides her arm through his. "You okay?" she asks.
"I'm fine," he says, without much conviction in his voice.
They walk in silence for a while, both deep in their own thoughts. Alesha is surprised James doesn't seem more satisfied - not that Darnell's dead, but that he's been proved right in his certainty that Darnell wasn't really rehabilitated. James isn't the type to be vindictive, but she'd expected him to show more emotion. Right now he seems blank.
"I spoke to Darnell earlier," he says.
Alesha stops walking, shocked. "What?
He doesn't meet her eyes, as if he's ashamed of what he's saying. "I went to see him," James says. "I wanted him to get police protection, so we'd know where he was at all times, so we could stop him doing it again."
"James!" She can hardly believe her ears. "What if he'd complained? You could've been accused of harassment or intimidation."
"I know," he says more softly. "But I was worried about what he might do, Alesha. You, of all people, should understand that."
She stares up at him; his eyes are shadowed. "James, you cannot turn into an avenging crusader against every rapist we have to deal with. They're not all Merrick."
"I know," he says, taking her hand in his and twining his fingers with hers; they resume walking. "But I'd dealt with Darnell before."
"I know, but sometimes your militant attitude scares me," she adds more quietly.
"Alesha!" He halts again, sounding shocked.
She looks up at him; they're standing under a streetlight now, and she can see he's appalled by her words. "James, sometimes you really deserve that nickname of Kim's, and I don't mean in a sexy way." She lifts her free hand and cups his cheek. "I'm not saying you scare me, just your militant attitude - you can be very ruthless at times."
He puts his hand over hers and squeezes her fingers. "I'm sorry."
She nods, slips her hand free, and begins to walk again. "You still owe me dinner," she reminds him.
"Are you sure you want to tonight?" He sounds doubtful.
"I'd rather have dinner with you, than have you go off to the pub by yourself and drink too much," she tells him.
He nods acceptance, and flags down a cab. "Come on then," he says, helping her inside. "Dinner it is."
* * * * * *
They eat in a good restaurant - not one where they'll feel awkward for not being dressed to the nines, but one with discreet service and good food, the two things they both want. James seems to eat mechanically until they reach the dessert.
"What do you fancy?" he asks. She grins suddenly, unable to help herself, and he (adorably) blushes. "I mean for dessert."
Alesha's grin just widens. "Something sinfully chocolaty," she says, eyes wide, and lips parted slightly.
He swallows a moan - she can tell by the look in his eyes, since it's one she's seen often. "You can be a very wicked tease, sometimes," he tells her, his voice somewhat unsteady.
Her grin becomes a smirk. "But you like it really," she says, confident of her ground.
He shifts slightly in the chair, still a little flushed, and she knows that he's aroused. "I do," he agrees in a low voice, glancing up at the approaching waiter.
"Good."
* * * * * *
Watching Alesha eat her chocolate dessert is an exquisite form of torture for James; he's never known a woman eat as sensuously as Alesha occasionally does, and it makes him ache with desire, but he knows he'll have to control himself.
Eventually, though, the meal is finished, and he pays the bill with a sense of relief at their impending escape.
"Do you want to come back to mine?" he asks as he buttons up his wool coat, wishing he'd worn the longer one today instead, since it covers a far greater multitude of sins.
She smiles up at him. "Why don't you come back to mine?" she suggests. She slips her hand into his and he starts in surprise when she pushes both their hands into his coat pocket, and then angles her hand to lightly stroke his arousal.
"Alesha Phillips," he hisses.
"Yes Mr Steel?" Her face is a picture of innocence, apart from a very knowing glint in her eyes.
"Wicked tease," he says. "If you carry on like that, I'm not sure I can be responsible for my actions."
He's surprised that she seems unfazed by this, and even more surprised when she moves towards a less well-lit side street.
"Alesha?"
"It's okay James." She leads the way down the street until it turns a corner into a dead end. She looks around, then up at the buildings, all of which are dark, then turns back to him.
"What are we doing?" he asks quietly, not quite daring to believe that she is going to engage in a sex act with him in a street, even if it is a dark side street.
"What would you like to do?" she asks, her tone quite serious.
"Go home," he says, "and make love to you."
She pouts, and he swallows down a laugh. "You don't want to be adventurous?" She sounds quite disappointed, so he reaches out to wrap his arms around her and pull her close.
"Every day with you is an adventure," he says, then rolls his eyes. "I know, that sounds sappy, but -"
The rest of his sentence is lost as Alesha stretches up and kisses him deeply. "All right," she says once she releases him. "Let's go home."
* * * * * *
The cab ride back to Alesha's flat seems interminable, though it's not, and he sits resolutely still, only their clasped hands betraying that they're a couple.
Alesha lets them in and James is careful to take his time about unwinding his scarf and taking off his coat, but as soon as he's hung up his things, she grabs his hand and tugs, leading him impatiently towards her bedroom.
"Someone's in a hurry," he observes, smirking.
She utters a breathless affirmative, then backs him up to the bed until he sits abruptly when it hits the back of his legs. Alesha unfastens his trousers, freeing his erection, then reaches under her skirt for her thong, and James gently clasps her wrists.
"Hey, what happened to making love?" he asks softly. "There's no rush, and I'm not so desperate that I want it to all be over in five minutes flat."
"I thought you wanted me," she says, sounding hurt.
"Of course I do, silly, all the time. But I want to make love to you slowly, not have a frenzied fuck that lasts barely five minutes. Is that okay?"
"Yes," she whispers, so he smiles and standing up, begins to undress her slowly, with lots of kisses to her jaw, neck, shoulders, breasts, belly, and then thighs as each item of clothing is removed and more of her lovely dark skin is bared.
By the time she's entirely naked she's trembling. "You okay?" he asks, somewhat concerned.
"Just - hurry up, will you?" she says, sounding suddenly self conscious, and he wonders if it's the fact that she's completely naked while he's fully dressed, aside from his trousers being open exposing his obvious arousal.
He smiles and leans in for a brief, almost chaste, kiss on the lips, then steps back. "Sure you don't want to do this?" he asks, about to remove his jacket.
"No. I'm just going to watch."
He smirks, then gestures at the bed. "Sit down, then."
She does, and he slips off his jacket, then begins unbuttoning his shirt, his eyes fixed firmly on her face; he feels himself becoming even more aroused when he spots the fire of desire in her eyes, and notes her tongue slipping over her slightly parted lips. She clenches her thighs together and he smirks again, before lifting a foot to remove his shoe and sock.
"James!" she moans, her tone pleading with him to hurry up.
"Yes Alesha?" he asks, adopting a tone of innocence that's at odds with the erection poking out of his trousers as he removes his other shoe and sock.
"Hurry up!" she says insistently.
He glances over at the bed, and sees her fists are clenched in the duvet, and grins as he finally slips off his trousers, pleased that he'd opted to go commando this morning.
"Get over here now," she says emphatically, and he laughs, then moves to join her on the bed, lying on his left side. He kisses her deeply as he skims his hand down over her belly and between her thighs to slip two fingers into her slick heat.
Alesha clutches the back of his neck with one hand, and he feels her internal muscles squeezing tightly around his fingers as he concentrates on satisfying her. When they pull apart for much needed air, she begins to moan and gasp and mutter incoherently as he drives her closer and closer to orgasm.
"James!" She yelps his name as her orgasm reaches its peak and he smiles gently at her, continuing to stroke her through the aftershocks.
"Okay?" he asks softly as she falls limply against the pillows, a sated look in her eyes.
"Yeah." She is breathing heavily, and he eases his hand free, then rubs her belly with his knuckles.
"Good. Do you want to go on top?" She shakes her head, so he moves over her, easily slipping his cock inside her. She shifts underneath him and he raises his eyebrows enquiringly.
"Sorry," she mutters, looking a little embarrassed at her own impatience.
He chuckles, then ducks his head to kiss her languidly as he thrusts in a slow, steady rhythm allowing his pleasure to build. Although he has no problems with Alesha usually being in control and dictating the pace, it is nice, sometimes, to take charge himself.
They reach their climax together, something he finds particularly satisfying, and he wraps his arms around her, then rolls onto his back. Alesha nuzzles against him and he grins unseen as he strokes her back and shoulders.
"James?"
"Mm-hmm."
She lifts her head to look at him, eyes glinting with amusement and something else. "You're not going to sleep are you?"
"Certainly not," he says. "I'm just basking."
She laughs, then pushes herself up to lean her elbows on his chest so they can look at each other while they talk. She's such a petite woman, and he loves the fact that he can easily pick her up, or that she can lie here, propped up on his chest, and it's comfortable for both of them.
"Do you want to have a shower?" she asks.
"Not right away," he protests. "I'm comfy here. Aren't you comfy here?"
She laughs again. "Yeah, I'm comfy."
"Good."
He doesn't see a need to leap out of bed now: it's nice to just snuggle up with the woman he loves.