Ratings: G to PG-13
Summery: Five Things that make Mick blush.
Mick is a bachelor, save his brief, yet memorable marriage to Coraline, so it’s not much of a surprise to Josef and than Beth, when they open his door and it looks like a tornado struck his living room. Beth is momentarily worried that perhaps a tornado really did hit and she wasn’t made aware of it.
Josef smiles as Beth puts her bag down beside the door and almost creeps along the small path that isn’t full of stuff. He toes the binders by his feet and steps over them, on his way to the kitchen. Hunger over mess, is his motto.
Beth comes to the doorway of Mick’s office and peers around the edge, looking into the room. There is Mick, standing on top of his desk, a fly swatter in one hand and a letter opener in the other.
Mick almost looses his balance when he heard pent up laughter coming from the doorway. He gets down quickly and lays the objects down, closing the gap between them. He gives her a small, sheepish smile and than sees Josef watching them.
“Did I ever mention my aversion to spiders?”
“It’s natural, Mick,” Beth said, glancing back at Mick who was cramped beside her in the rental car.
“I am fine.”
“No you are not, you don’t look so good.”
“Thanks,” he said giving a small laugh. “I’ll be alright.”
“It’s not a big deal, Mick,” she said, facing him more. “Heck you fed on me. Or is that drink?”
“How about we don’t talk about that rather low part of our friendship?”
Beth has the grace to turn back around and keeps staring into the dark, locating their client. Mick, however, can’t shake the growing need to feed; why did he not bring something? He glanced around and hates what he is, and what he may have to ask of her.
But like all things Beth, she greets his low request with a laugh and says that this is the only time she will be a cheep date. He promises her lots of juicy steaks to make up for his need to snack.
Mick can’t pinpoint why rain makes him blush. It is something that just happens, so it shouldn’t make the blood rush to his cheeks. But it’s something about the soft way it hits the windows of his apartment, how it makes the sky cloud over and the shadows deep. Really when he thought about it, it was quiet depressing.
But than he remembers the feeling of her fingers brushing his wet hair out of his face, how her lips were waiting to be kissed dry. The run away feeling of burning hands on cool flesh and how the rain covered each touch, washing it away, but not out of their mind.
And then he knows it’s the soft patter, the rhythm of the sound of it on the window. The same way she would push the water from his eyes, and off his shoulders. The way they found themselves caught in the rain almost every time.
Trailing the flower down Mick’s arm, Beth gives him a very interesting look. He quirks an eyebrow and tries to think if she may have come in contact with any vamp blood. He checks his arms, no not his.
Her voice is floating down to him, caressing him like the rose Beth left in his hands. He picks it up and smells it, so sweet and soft. Like Beth, who was now dropping fake petals from the second floor.
Roses goes higher on the list of things to decorate his place with.
The words skirted around them as they themselves skirted around each other. Fingers intertwine and soon they are slipping under fabric, around hems, and finally, blissfully, fingers find their mark. Lips dance and collide. Flesh shouldn’t feel so good.
Mick knows this is wrong, on so many levels, and as the older of the two, he chuckles, he should stop this. But than Beth caresses his face, and looks in his eyes, and it’s there. Under the surface, the words.
He places a finger on her lips, shaking his head. It’s safe inside them, they know that. Someday they will utter the words. And deep down they know, they hope, that it’s not too late, not too far in the future.
For now, Mick wraps Beth in his arms, crushing her against his immortal body, into the safety they can take as their own for the brief few minutes. Skin finds skin and Mick sinks into the feeling that is all Beth.