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grav_ityI did it.
AN: Sometimes when you want something done, you really do have to do it yourself.
Spoilers: Threshold
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Dude, there’s a pretty good chance I’ll deny ever writing this fic in the first place. I totally have no claim on anything else.
Summary: Somewhere between her front door and the stairs that led to her bed room, Janet Fraiser fell asleep.
Against the Wall
The fourth time she missed getting the key to go into the lock, Janet Fraiser acknowledged that she might have a problem. Usually under such circumstances, she would close her eyes and take a deep breath, but she was afraid that if she tried that particular technique right now, she would fall asleep standing up. The frustration of recent events suddenly caught up with her and she hit her forehead on the roof of her car a few times to jar herself back to life.
“You know,” came a voice from behind her, “I have this really great doctor and she’s always telling me that when you’re exhausted, the only thing you can do is sleep.”
“Really?” she replied, smiling for the first time in forever. She turned around to find him standing with the passenger door of his own car open.
“C’mon, I’ll take you home.”
The drive through Colorado Springs was uneventful, as always. It was ironic that nothing ever happened in Colorado Springs given the cosmic potential of things that could. Sometime, in the grocery store or at the bank, it was all she could do not to run screaming up and down the aisles about how close to annihilation they’d all come so many times and would they all stop complaining about how expensive beef was getting.
The car stopped in her drive way and she stared blankly into her dark house, caught up in the memory of a patient she would not have been allowed to save and the resignation papers that sat, signed and dated, on her desk.
“Where’s Cassie?” he asked lightly. She knew full well that he was reluctant to send her out into the dark all alone, and suddenly she was very reluctant to go.
“What – what day is it?” she asked, frightened by how much time she’d lost to recent futility.
“Friday.” He looked at his watch. “Saturday.”
“She’s, um, she’s gone camping. With friends.”
“Are you okay?”
From anyone else, this was a rhetorical question, one to be glibly answered ‘yes’ and dropped from polite conversation. But this was not anyone else and, worst of all, he already knew what her answer was.
“Come in for a bit, would you?” she asked him. “Please.”
He turned the car off and followed her inside. He picked up the accumulated mail she stepped over and set it down on one of the tables in her front hallway while she hung her coat. She found herself strangely focused on small details of his presence, her brain too tired to deal with anything complex. When he handed her his jacket, their fingers brushed, and some of the death that was taking over her body fled.
“Coffee?” she asked, remember social niceties.
“I really don’t think that’s a good idea,” he pointed out. “You want to go to sleep, remember?”
She hadn’t known for sure until he said it, but when he did, she realized that sleep was the very last thing on her mind. She wanted him to touch her again, to drive away the rest of the feeling of absolute despair that had been threatening to overwhelm her since she was directly ordered to not take life-saving measures. Something must had alerted him to her train of thought, because he looked at her sharply.
“Janet?”
She took two steps towards him and, cursing her height and lack thereof, reached up to pull his face down to her level. It had been a very long time since she had kissed anyone, and when his lips touched hers, she felt a jolt of fire burn through her.
His hands came to the back of her head, running through her hair and down her neck. She pushed herself closer to him, and when he gasped for breath, slid her tongue into his mouth. He tasted of coffee and smelled of books and was so far away from any of the pain of the last few days that she could not get enough of him.
Her hands moved from his head to his shoulders, and slid down his chest. She pulled at his shirt and, by virtue of the fact that his hands were tracing her cheekbones, literally felt the exact moment when he realized that this was not going to end with kissing. As her hands crossed the skin of his back, she felt him make his decision and reach for the buttons of her blouse.
As he pushed her shirt over her shoulders and down her arms, she arched her head back, stretching herself to her full height. His mouth found the exposed skin of her neck, his fingers the clasp of her bra and she gasped into the dark, pervasive silence of her house. She watched him shrug out of his own shirt, and ran her fingers over every bit of him she could, delighting when his gasps echoed her own.
The zipper on her skirt was at the back, and by the time he found it, he had stooped so far over her that she could feel every part of him pressing against every part of her. She shook her hips to get the skirt out of the way and smirked when she felt his reaction. She made quick work of his pants and boxers, barely noticing that he finished stripping her, and pulled in into a kiss once more. She stepped backwards, pulling him with her, looking for support and finding it when her back came to rest against the wall. His arousal pressed against her and she felt a familiar, long denied heat settle into her stomach.
His lips were suddenly everywhere; her mouth, her neck, her eyelids. They rested by her ear as his fingers skated over her breasts and she could feel her heart pounding in her chest.
“Are you sure?” he whispered, and she was caught between an incredulous ‘are you fucking kidding me?’ and genuine flattery that, even now, this man would stop to ask.
“Please Daniel,” was all she could say.
He slid one finger carefully between her legs and she moaned when he felt her centre. She felt him smile into her hair, and then he picked her up, arranging her legs around his waist.
And then he was inside her, thrusting softly into her until she moved her own hips in response. He never varied the rhythm, but his strokes became harder, deeper, steadily building up the tension in every single muscle in her body, and driving every unwanted thought of doubt and recrimination from her mind.
“Daniel please!” she gasped again, and he slid one hand between their bodies. His thumb and forefinger moved around her clitoris, and it was all she could do not to scream.
She felt his perfect rhythm falter as he got closer to the edge he was so mercilessly close to putting her over. His thrusts became erratic, his breath in her ear jagged.
Her muscled clenched around him when she came, and she dug her fingers into his arms where she’d held on. He pounded into her, searching for his own release, and came a few moments later.
He leaned forward to rest his head on the wall next to hers. She turned her face into his neck, marveling at their closeness, and at the weight that was gone from her. His arms came around her suddenly and their positions shifted as he moved her so that he could actually carry her without help from architectural features.
Somewhere between her front door and the stairs that led up to her bed room, Janet Fraiser fell peacefully, happily asleep.
Consider this my formal application to join the dsrclub.
In completely unrelated news, class was cancelled this morning, but I didn't find out until 9:00 when I arrived at campus after slogging uphill through twenty centimetres of accumulated snow for an hour, and that new Cadbury Creme Eggs commercial where the rabbits all make different animal sounds is fantastically funny.
AN: Sometimes when you want something done, you really do have to do it yourself.
Spoilers: Threshold
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Dude, there’s a pretty good chance I’ll deny ever writing this fic in the first place. I totally have no claim on anything else.
Summary: Somewhere between her front door and the stairs that led to her bed room, Janet Fraiser fell asleep.
Against the Wall
The fourth time she missed getting the key to go into the lock, Janet Fraiser acknowledged that she might have a problem. Usually under such circumstances, she would close her eyes and take a deep breath, but she was afraid that if she tried that particular technique right now, she would fall asleep standing up. The frustration of recent events suddenly caught up with her and she hit her forehead on the roof of her car a few times to jar herself back to life.
“You know,” came a voice from behind her, “I have this really great doctor and she’s always telling me that when you’re exhausted, the only thing you can do is sleep.”
“Really?” she replied, smiling for the first time in forever. She turned around to find him standing with the passenger door of his own car open.
“C’mon, I’ll take you home.”
The drive through Colorado Springs was uneventful, as always. It was ironic that nothing ever happened in Colorado Springs given the cosmic potential of things that could. Sometime, in the grocery store or at the bank, it was all she could do not to run screaming up and down the aisles about how close to annihilation they’d all come so many times and would they all stop complaining about how expensive beef was getting.
The car stopped in her drive way and she stared blankly into her dark house, caught up in the memory of a patient she would not have been allowed to save and the resignation papers that sat, signed and dated, on her desk.
“Where’s Cassie?” he asked lightly. She knew full well that he was reluctant to send her out into the dark all alone, and suddenly she was very reluctant to go.
“What – what day is it?” she asked, frightened by how much time she’d lost to recent futility.
“Friday.” He looked at his watch. “Saturday.”
“She’s, um, she’s gone camping. With friends.”
“Are you okay?”
From anyone else, this was a rhetorical question, one to be glibly answered ‘yes’ and dropped from polite conversation. But this was not anyone else and, worst of all, he already knew what her answer was.
“Come in for a bit, would you?” she asked him. “Please.”
He turned the car off and followed her inside. He picked up the accumulated mail she stepped over and set it down on one of the tables in her front hallway while she hung her coat. She found herself strangely focused on small details of his presence, her brain too tired to deal with anything complex. When he handed her his jacket, their fingers brushed, and some of the death that was taking over her body fled.
“Coffee?” she asked, remember social niceties.
“I really don’t think that’s a good idea,” he pointed out. “You want to go to sleep, remember?”
She hadn’t known for sure until he said it, but when he did, she realized that sleep was the very last thing on her mind. She wanted him to touch her again, to drive away the rest of the feeling of absolute despair that had been threatening to overwhelm her since she was directly ordered to not take life-saving measures. Something must had alerted him to her train of thought, because he looked at her sharply.
“Janet?”
She took two steps towards him and, cursing her height and lack thereof, reached up to pull his face down to her level. It had been a very long time since she had kissed anyone, and when his lips touched hers, she felt a jolt of fire burn through her.
His hands came to the back of her head, running through her hair and down her neck. She pushed herself closer to him, and when he gasped for breath, slid her tongue into his mouth. He tasted of coffee and smelled of books and was so far away from any of the pain of the last few days that she could not get enough of him.
Her hands moved from his head to his shoulders, and slid down his chest. She pulled at his shirt and, by virtue of the fact that his hands were tracing her cheekbones, literally felt the exact moment when he realized that this was not going to end with kissing. As her hands crossed the skin of his back, she felt him make his decision and reach for the buttons of her blouse.
As he pushed her shirt over her shoulders and down her arms, she arched her head back, stretching herself to her full height. His mouth found the exposed skin of her neck, his fingers the clasp of her bra and she gasped into the dark, pervasive silence of her house. She watched him shrug out of his own shirt, and ran her fingers over every bit of him she could, delighting when his gasps echoed her own.
The zipper on her skirt was at the back, and by the time he found it, he had stooped so far over her that she could feel every part of him pressing against every part of her. She shook her hips to get the skirt out of the way and smirked when she felt his reaction. She made quick work of his pants and boxers, barely noticing that he finished stripping her, and pulled in into a kiss once more. She stepped backwards, pulling him with her, looking for support and finding it when her back came to rest against the wall. His arousal pressed against her and she felt a familiar, long denied heat settle into her stomach.
His lips were suddenly everywhere; her mouth, her neck, her eyelids. They rested by her ear as his fingers skated over her breasts and she could feel her heart pounding in her chest.
“Are you sure?” he whispered, and she was caught between an incredulous ‘are you fucking kidding me?’ and genuine flattery that, even now, this man would stop to ask.
“Please Daniel,” was all she could say.
He slid one finger carefully between her legs and she moaned when he felt her centre. She felt him smile into her hair, and then he picked her up, arranging her legs around his waist.
And then he was inside her, thrusting softly into her until she moved her own hips in response. He never varied the rhythm, but his strokes became harder, deeper, steadily building up the tension in every single muscle in her body, and driving every unwanted thought of doubt and recrimination from her mind.
“Daniel please!” she gasped again, and he slid one hand between their bodies. His thumb and forefinger moved around her clitoris, and it was all she could do not to scream.
She felt his perfect rhythm falter as he got closer to the edge he was so mercilessly close to putting her over. His thrusts became erratic, his breath in her ear jagged.
Her muscled clenched around him when she came, and she dug her fingers into his arms where she’d held on. He pounded into her, searching for his own release, and came a few moments later.
He leaned forward to rest his head on the wall next to hers. She turned her face into his neck, marveling at their closeness, and at the weight that was gone from her. His arms came around her suddenly and their positions shifted as he moved her so that he could actually carry her without help from architectural features.
Somewhere between her front door and the stairs that led up to her bed room, Janet Fraiser fell peacefully, happily asleep.
Consider this my formal application to join the dsrclub.
In completely unrelated news, class was cancelled this morning, but I didn't find out until 9:00 when I arrived at campus after slogging uphill through twenty centimetres of accumulated snow for an hour, and that new Cadbury Creme Eggs commercial where the rabbits all make different animal sounds is fantastically funny.
