Friday Night - for Mike

After their relatively chaste date and then that incredible kiss in their break room at work, Claire was ready to do just about anything to put their sexual tension to rest, even if it meant drastic measures.

In terms of drastic measures, she had planned something that was both easy and complicated for Friday night. She'd told him eight o'clock and gotten home a little after seven herself. She'd ordered Chinese and then jumped in the shower, her hair pinned up so that it would stay dry.

When she got out, she'd dressed in a pair of lacy black panties and a bra to match, then put on a grey and pink silk kimono over it. When the food was delivered, she ignored the delivery man's dropped jaw, signed for the food, and then placed a 'come in' sticky note on the door.

While she waited for him, she set about transferring the food from the paper cartons to actual dishes and then placing the dishes on her dining room table, the entire time keeping an ear out for the door and an eye on the clock.





He felt like a dumb kid loping up to her door. His palms were sweating so his pants were a little rumpled by the time he got to her door from all the wiping.

The note he found didn't help.

Two little words written on a sticky note said so much. Come in. Given the nature of the evening it made him chuckle with it's double entendre. "Don't mind if I do." Mike muttered to himself as he took the note off the door and let himself into her apartment.

"Hello?"




"In the kitchen," she called back. Then she realized that it sounded a little too domestic for her tastes, so she lifted the glasses of wine she'd poured and made her big entrance.

The candles on the kitchen table were her backlight as she turned the corner and gave him a smile. "I'm really glad you didn't chicken out, Sinclair. Otherwise, I'd be forced to spend the night drinking by myself."

She crossed the room barefoot and placed the second wineglass in his hand with a smile that bordered on flirty.

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