sheisnotasaint | (no subject)

(no subject)

The morning after their date, Claire was up before her alarm and in the shower before the sun was up. Hair dried and in a bun, she got dressed a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt and black boots. She clipped her badge and gun to her belt and drove the distance to the coffee shop for her morning wake-up call.

She didn't really need it. She'd spent the night tossing and turning.

What had she been thinking? Inviting him in after dinner? Offering him a drink? Where had she been thinking that was going to go? Obviously, nowhere good. The polite kiss to her cheek had been the right response, obviously, and she'd stood there as he'd walked back to his car. The perfect gentleman.

She'd gone to bed frustrated. Yes, that frustrated. Why? She had no idea. She didn't even LIKE him that way, right?

Now, she was embarrassed, in more ways than one. To make up for it (or to cover it up), she bought his coffee, too, and set it on his desk before she sat down at her own.

"Morning." There. Simple and easy. No change in their working relationship. It'd just been dinner, no matter how good he smelled this morning. Did he always smell like that?

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It took two, not one, cold showers to calm he down enough to sleep and even then he still had to give himself a little "personal attention" as soon as he woke up. Imagine a grown ass man still having wet dreams and morning wood. It was embarrassing and it was entirely Claire's fault.

The whole thing made him grumpy. What in the hell had happened? Mike had been with plenty of women. He didn't keep count but he was sure between his wild youth and even wilder post-divorce activities he was in the triple digits. At the very least high doubles. He prided himself as a ladies man and he panicked? That just didn't happen. Not to him. What's next? Impotency?

Oh god. Don't even think it.

When Claire got there, he'd already been there 30 minutes. The coffee already on his desk was lukewarm and he was trying desperately to bury himself in a file. It wasn't working.

He saw her legs before he saw the rest of her. God, the woman had some legs on her. Mike shifted in his chair and started thinking about baseball. He wasn't some randy teenager who could get a chubby if the wind blew right. He was an adult dammit. One with self control.

"Don't you wear damn pants anymore?" Mike grumbled not even looking up.

Claire had her face buried in her coffee trying to avoid his aftershave or his soap or his cologne or whatever the hell it was as she looked over his shoulder when he grumbled at her. Looking down at her jeans, she supposed they weren't the best ones she owned but did he have to be such an ass about it?

"I'll wear some 'damn pants' tomorrow," she said, her mood going further into the toilet as she mimicked his accent and went back to sipping her coffee. "These were comfortable and I like 'em. What're you looking at?"

"Whatever." He mouthed knowing he was being a dick but he just couldn't seem to shake himself out of it. This was the reason men weren't the emotional ones. Mike couldn't deal with what he was feeling so he just took it out on everyone around him.

"A tip came in last night about another possible Saint murder."

"Yeah? What'dya got?"

She set the coffee down and then sat herself on his desk next to where the files were as if it were any other day. Her ass was right next to his coffee and she lifted a second file from him. "Same M.O. and everything, I'm guessing. What was it this time? Murderer or rapist?"

Yeah, she knew there was tension, but the fact that he was being an ass wasn't too different except that it was a little more focused.

Mike fought the urge to groan when his body reacted to her close proximity. Without warning images of him bending her over his desk popped into his head before he could stop it.

His eyes darted to the men's restroom as a way of escape but he wasn't sure he could make it across the room without everyone in the place seeing him sport a hard on. He just needed to relax. Take a deep breath but how could he be expected to do that when the troublesome woman was close enough to smell her shampoo. What was that? Flowers? Maybe fruit?

Great. Now he was thinking of her in the shower.

"Don't you have your own desk?" He snapped and pushed the file at her. "It looks like a drug smuggler and pimp. Vice has been after the guy for a while but he keeps getting released on technicalities. Just... Just read it yourself. I've still got paperwork to do."

Okay, that wasn't just his normal attitude problem - that was based on something else.

Claire looked up from the file she was holding and took the one he shoved at her. Her eyes narrowed to a glint as she slid off his desk and snagged her coffee. As she did, she caught another whiff of whatever it was that had him smelling so good and she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She could do this, she was a tough, in control woman. Just breathe.

Except the problem was breathing in the same air he was occupying and he was right. She DID have her own desk. Leaning close so only he could hear her, though, she focused in on the only thing she could think of that was causing such an issue.

"You know," she murmured right next to his ear so she couldn't be overheard and no one could read her lips. The proximity, however, made her nipples harden. "You asked me out. You could act like it wasn't the worst thing to happen to you since your divorce."

The file went onto her desk and she went to get a refill from the pot on the other side of the room.

Mike opened his mouth to reply when she turned on her heels and headed for the break room. His ex used to pull that had to have the last word bullshit. He didn't take it from Maggie. He sure as hell wasn't going to take it from Claire.

Thankfully the break room was a hell of a lot closer than the restroom so when he stalked after his partner, it was unlikely he was seen.

"First of all," Mike started before he even finished closing the door. "the day I got divorced was one of the happiest of my life. I got rid of that heartless cow and had my first threesome. Flight attendants. Some day they will write songs about that night. And secondly,"

Mike started but he didn't finish. Instead he grabbed Claire firmly by the waist and pulled her roughly against him for the kiss he should have given her the night before.

Unaware that he'd followed her, she turned toward the door when he started speaking, eyes wide. Still holding the coffee pot when he started describing his sexual exploits, she opened her mouth to object and that's where it was when he grabbed her and kissed her.

Oh, but that kiss.

One hand was holding the coffee pot, the other was holding her coffee cup and her eyes sort of drifted shut as the kiss went on. It wasn't messy or sloppy, but it was very well done. For the shining moment that it carried on, Claire forgot that the two of them were standing in the precinct's break room and that anyone they worked with could barge in at any second. When she did remember, she pulled back and licked her bottom lip.

"Okay." A deep breath. "First of all, flight attendants? Ew. Secondly..." Another deep breath and her eyes checked the blinds on the windows to make sure no one was peeking in. "Mike."

Not the derogatory 'Sinclair' she normally went with or even the annoyed way she'd say his first name. This was kind of breathed out on a sigh and she almost wanted to take it back. Instead, she added, "Nice."

One of his hands drifted up to her neck while the other stayed on her waist keeping her body firmly against his. It did nothing to dissipate the impressive erection currently sandwiched between their bodies but it at least hid it from view.

"There is nothing wrong with flight attendants. They provide a very important service and they do it with a smile." He teased keeping his mouth hovering above hers so close he could breath her air. Mike knew he was playing with fire but he didn't feel like spending the rest of the day snapping at her and getting hard every time she was 10 feet of him when he could just get the kiss out of his system and get a little of his pride back.

"You're such a pig." It was probably the first time she'd said it with anything even close to bordering on affection or fondness, but there it was. She followed it up with another kiss, short and with a lot less tongue, and then another. The third had a little bit of intensity and she set the coffee pot down on the counter next to her without looking.

Her hand went to his waist somewhere between his gun and his groin, her thumb moving slowly back and forth across the top of his slacks. When she pulled back a second time, she cleared her throat. Pressed up against his erection wasn't doing anything to calm her own body down, even if her arousal wasn't as obvious. "Someone's going to come in here eventually."

Her tone had him grinning, eager to meet every one of her kisses. It was easy to forget himself, forget where they were, or how much trouble they would get in if they were caught.

Again it was totally her fault. Her and those damn hands. He was so hard it was starting to hurt. More than anything he wanted her hands to move lower. He even started thrust against her hoping to catch her hand.

"I don't fucking care." He breathed between heated kisses, sliding his hand into the underside of her hair. It felt like heated silk it was so soft.

All he wanted was to get closer when he lifted her up onto the counter. He wasn't thinking about the half full coffee pot or how close it had been to the edge. He was sure thinking about it when it hit the ground with a crash! Sending hot coffee in all directions and drawing attention to their little tryst.

Claire was ready to oblige him in every way that she could, short of dropping her panties on the break room floor. She even reached up and undid her hair so that she could feel his hands playing in it. She wasn't about to tell him just how good his hands felt in her hair, on her waist or anywhere else on her body. What she was going to do was run a hand over the bulge in his pants as he lifted her up.

What she wasn't expecting was for the metal coffeepot to go crashing to the ground. It brought their kiss to a halt as she looked down at the ground first to make sure that the mess was containable and then over her shoulder to see just who was responding. Some traffic cop in a uniform was headed their way and she pressed her lips to Mike's in one last kiss before shoving at him and hopping to the ground just as the door was pushed open.

"Dammit, Sinclair," she snapped, tossing her hair over her shoulder and shooting Mike an annoyed look. "Can't do a thing for yourself, can you? Men." She turned the look on the uniform who'd walked in. "You expect a woman to get your coffee, too? I'd suggest you take a hike."

The young man stammered and backed out, leaving the door open and she huffed a breath that was both relieved and exasperated as she turned back toward her partner. Talk about a mood kill.

Her tone wasn't at all annoyed, in fact it could have been disappointed, when she held out her hand and said, "Paper towels."

Mike stood there in a moment of shock stupidly watching her rather than responding to help sell the lie. Instead he thought to himself how scary good at covering her ass she was. Then he briefly thought how hot she was on her knees before he shook himself out of his reverie.

"I, uh, you know I just like to watch. It's the closest you get to domestic. You know, Maguire, you're only Lilith Fair tickets away from some after 10pm Skin-o-max good old fashioned girl on girl experimentation. Maybe it's the shoes..." He teased tapping his chin then walking out before she threw something at him.

She was going to throw something at him anyway.

It took a deep breath, then a second, then a THIRD before she could snag the paper towels and clean up the coffee on the ground. She threw the mess of soggy towels into the trash and then washed and rinsed her hands before making fresh coffee for every man in the precinct. Ugh. All because Mike Sinclair knew how to kiss.

Just thinking about it made her warm low in her stomach and she was back to taking deep breaths.

Pulling her hair back again, she found her hairband on the ground and she tied it back, leaving it in a long pony tail, before she exited the break room. So much for coffee. Sliding into her chair, she ignored the man sitting across from her as she lifted the file in front of her and got back to work. Men.

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