Let Me Down Easy (Common Law Fanfic)

Title: Let Me Down Easy

Fandom: Common Law

Pairing: Travis/Wes

Rating: PG-13 (talk of sexy things, but no actual smut)

Word Count: 3001.  And yes, that one word makes a difference, darnit!

Warnings: Language, emotions, too much introspection for six pages worth of words

Cookies to: skyesurfer12. Thank you for the return favor.  Again. 

Spoilers: None that I can think of offhand, but you now officially know that I’m a dork of epic proportions.  (This still fits, so I’m leaving it)

Hate mail: asphaltcowgrrl@aol.com

Author’s Note: All because of this prompt here. This chapter’s theme song is courtesy of Billy Currington – Let Me Down Easy. 

Well, this is the end.  Maybe.  My lovely friend up there ^^ gave me a great idea for a therapy session after the fact… or after the sexin’, whichever.  But, I don’t know if I can pull it off or not.  I do know that it will be fun to try at least.  So, watch this space…

--

Let Me Down Easy

Four AM.  He blinked, then rubbed his eyes for good measure.  Yup.  Still four o'clock.  Wes arched his back, loosening the stiffness in his aching muscles. At the height of a most delicious stretch, Wes' shoulder brushed against something hard and warm.

Travis.

It all suddenly came into focus.  Dr. GoodLove's love potion.  The car.  His poor couch.  A headache began building at the back of his head and he didn't know if it was from the imminent love cologne hangover or from the sudden understanding that he'd spent the better part of yesterday sexing his partner.

And liking it.

He didn’t remember much about what happened after they’d vacated the living room and reconnected in his bedroom - Hah! Reconnected. There’s a good word, Wes. Lovely case of denial you have going on - but he was slowly starting to piece it together. Bits and pieces of the night flooded his memory. Kisses in the dark, touches he couldn’t resist, the slide of skin on skin. Amazingly enough, they took turns, teasing and taunting, loving and fucking. Vaguely, Wes recalled an appearance by someone’s handcuffs and, judging by the bruises blossoming around his wrists, he assumed that they had not been his set.

Sighing, Wes sat up and looked around. His hotel room had never been so wrecked. Somebody’s pants were lying across the dresser, Travis’, he surmised in the darkness. His suit jacket was on the floor. The comforter for the bed was MIA and the sheets had been ripped from their nicely tucked corners. Only Travis could come into someone’s life and, in the space of fourteen hours completely and utterly turn it on its head. He had started to realize that he wasn’t nearly as disturbed by this as he should be. And that worried him.

Travis lay on his side, one arm tucked under the pillow, the other resting across his chest. Wes smiled at how peaceful he looked, body relaxed, chest rising and falling in a steady, unhurried rhythm. It never failed to amaze him how easily the boy was able to let go. To be honest, it made him just a little jealous because it was common knowledge that Wes wasn’t able to relax. Period.

He had a brief urge to wake Travis and start it all over again. To indulge in his body and revel in his scent. But he resisted. So far, the captain hadn’t called, wanting to know why they’d never made their second stop yesterday, but it was undoubtedly on the horizon. And by getting Travis – and himself – going this early, well, it was a possibility that they’d never leave his hotel room. Ever.

Besides, he had no idea if Travis was even interested in more than what had already gone before. Wes had known Travis for a long time and, in all those years, he’d never stayed with a woman for more than a night or two. The thought of being rejected after a couple rounds of sheer passion sent a lump of panic straight into Wes’ chest.

It’s the damn love potion talking, Wes, get a hold of yourself. Right. The eau du amore that Travis had slathered all over himself yesterday. He looked over at Travis again, happily snuggled into the warmth left by his body, and sighed. First order of business: a shower.

Leaving the bed instantly became the hardest thing he’d had to do all week. What if Travis wakes up? Something squeezed his chest tightly, forcing the panic up into his throat, cutting off his ability to breathe. What if he thinks I’ve abandoned him in my own home? His stomach rolled, the nausea simmering and threatening to overcome him. Oh God, what if he knows where I am and decides it’s the perfect time to sneak out without me knowing? Pain radiated across his chest, a sweat breaking out on his skin. What if…

“For the love of Mike, get a fuckin’ grip,” he scolded himself. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“You’re too loud,” was the sleepy reply from his side. “That’s what’s wrong with you right now.” Travis cracked an eye and looked up at his partner-turned-lover. “Come back down here and keep me warm.”

The simple sound of that voice, heavy with sleep, helped put him at ease. Rushes of anxiety and doubt still flooded his nervous system, but it was lessened knowing Travis was still there, still being Travis. He closed his eyes and forced himself to clamp down on his raging emotions. “I will, but I need a shower first.”

Travis’ eyes were closed again but a smile graced his face. “Took you long enough,” he teased. “Figured you would have slunk off somewhere around midnight to do just that.”

He frowned at the man in his bed, knowing he couldn’t see it. “I was tempted, but every time I thought about it, I was given a better reason not to.” Wait, why did I just say that?

A chuckle rose from Travis’ chest, amusement and fond memories of doing exactly that flitted across his consciousness. “Go then, have your shower. I’ll be here. Snoring.”

Wes snorted. “Yeah, that I can believe.” Oh god, he’s going to stay. What do I do, what do I… “Don’t get too comfortable there though, Marks. You’re next. Need to wash off that stuff you decided to bathe in yesterday.”

“Stuff?” Travis was confused momentarily before Wes’ meaning sunk in. Oh. “Yeah man, okay. Just wake me when you’re…” The rest was consumed by a yawn of epic proportions.

Wes smiled down at him, watching his eyes drift closed and his face melt back into that sleep-relaxed perfection of minutes before. It took enormous effort to pull his gaze from Travis’ face, but he knew what he needed to do. As soon as possible.

Shower, Wes. Wash away the love making, wash away the potion, wash away your doubts.

As if it’d be that easy. He still had no clue if what he’d been feeling for the last fourteen hours was real or chemically induced. And if it still lingered even after all traces of the unnaturally-induced romping had been washed away? What would he do then? Guess we’ll figure that one out when we come to it, right? Right.

God, he wished that so much of this didn’t rest in Travis’ hands. Those strong, skilled hands.

~*~

He heard the bathroom door click closed, followed shortly by the sound of water hitting tile. Travis pushed himself wearily into a sitting position and looked at the empty side of the bed. It went without saying that he shouldn’t have been arrogant enough to even attempt to mess with the potion. But honestly, who would have even guessed it’d work, let alone be as potent as it was. He knew better and yet, couldn’t resist messing with Wes – he made it so easy sometimes - hoping for that chance to have what he’d wanted for so long. Even if he got it under false pretenses.

Travis supposed that made him a tiny bit pathetic, to be so willing to grab at Wes’ affections when they were only temporary and nowhere near to being real. But he’d understood from the very beginning that it wasn’t ever going to be. Wes had had a wife back then, for craps sake. How could he ever expect him to desire another guy, when it was obvious he wasn’t even interested in other women?

It didn’t change the way he felt, unfortunately. From day one, Wes had accepted him, trusted him, and treated him like an equal. Not something he’d gotten much of over the years so, when it’d come from someone like his by-the-books partner, it meant more. It mattered. It’s what caused him to fall so hard, so fast.

And to break so bitterly when he hit the bottom.

To his credit, he’d done a damn good job at keeping his feelings from Wes. As far as Travis knew, Wes didn’t suspect anything more than a very strong friendship between the two of them, despite what had just taken place. Repeatedly. And amazingly. He needed to pull himself together quickly because, if he kept on this train of thought, it’d be blazingly obvious the minute his partner laid eyes on him. There was no doubt all his fears were written in bold block letters across his face.

This was the reason why Travis was always the first to leave. He who did the leaving had the control. You weren’t forced to face the pain of rejection if you weren’t the one being left behind. Or pushed away. But for some reason, he found himself glued to his side of Wes’ bed, unable – unwilling – to be the one to leave this time. Wes would have to throw him out to get him to leave this time.

Their relationship had reached that point where it was now or never. Like he’d jokingly mentioned earlier, their partnership had already hit the rocks, hard, and they were currently stuck in therapy. How much more damage could his confession do? Aside from the obvious destruction of what was left of their relationship.

Obviously.

He’d finally convinced himself that this was what needed to happen, today, when the bathroom door opened, light spilling into the dark bedroom. For a second, Travis’ heart stopped beating, words wedged in his throat. Hot, humid air wafted in Wes’ wake as he made his way to the dresser beside the bed, white hotel towel wrapped tightly around his hips. Travis’ conviction melted in the steamy air, leaving him voiceless. The sight of Wes’ pale skin glistening in the muted light didn’t help much either.

“Oh, you are up,” Wes teased, spying his partner in a locked and upright position finally.

“Yeah,” he replied. “Look, Wes, there’s something we need to talk about…”

Crap. Here it comes. He knew it was a mistake. Hell, even I knew it was a mistake, but he smelled so good and I just couldn’t help it, couldn’t stop touching him and… Wes gave himself a mental head slap and tried to focus on what Travis was saying before freaking out. Maybe he…

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

Wes blinked. “Like what?”

“Like I just pulled a gun on you. Trust me. I’d recognize that look anywhere.” It was a lame joke, but it seemed to help. One corner of his lover’s mouth turned up slightly.

“Wha? Oh. Sorry. Just thinking about our to-do list for today.”

Travis smirked. “Does that list include me?” Please say yes…

“Trav, look,” he began, unsure of where to start. Start with the obvious. “You need to shower before we can do this.” He waved a hand in the general direction of the bed.

Something within him cracked, just a bit, when Travis’ face fell. Even though he struggled to pull it back into his typical casual grin, it wasn’t any use. Wes had seen it. And it hurt him to know that look was his fault. I have to fix this.

He climbed onto the end of the bed, crossing his legs and facing his partner. Taking one dark hand in his, he squeezed. “Look at me.” Reluctantly, Travis met Wes’ gaze, and held it, not breathing. “It’s not what you think, not really. I promise. I…” Wes was the one to look away, unsure and insecure. “I need to know if what I’m fe—feeling right now, I need to know if it’s real. I have to know that it’s not something chemically induced because I…” He took a deep breath and forced himself to meet Travis’ deep blue eyes one more time. “I refuse to be the one to hurt you.”

A slight hitching breath came from the body across from him. Wes watched Travis intently, holding his hand tightly, waiting for the tears to fall. Instead of waterworks, he was blessed with a giggle-snort of laughter followed by the kind of shy smile you’d never expect to see on Travis Marks’ face. Not in this lifetime. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.”

“What’s so funny?”

“I was first afraid you were going to boot me out. Then,” he looked at the ceiling for encouragement, “I was afraid you were going to tell me just how big of a mistake this was.”

“Oh, this was a mistake,” he drawled, “and a big one, too, but not because of what you’re thinking.”

Travis was confused. “What are you babbling about?”

“Look. This is crazy. I can’t get enough of you. You obviously can’t get enough of me, either.” Travis snorted at this declaration. “But we have to still be able to work together. It’s not going to be easy.”

“It’s not as hard as you think,” Travis confessed.

“Wait, what?”

Travis shrugged, feigning nonchalance despite his racing heart. “I’ve been in love with you for a long time, Wes. I’ve just… kept it to myself.”

Wes was dumbfounded. “You have? How… why?”

Travis’ brows pulled together as he studied his partner. “Why what?”

“Why me? Why haven’t you said anything? Just fucking why?”

“Why you? I don’t honestly know. Because you are you and that’s good enough for you. It damn well better be good enough for everyone else, too.” Wes laughed, knowing that that was exactly how he put himself out there in an effort to hide his fear of failing, of not being enough. “But why didn’t I say anything? One word, man: Alex.”

He nodded, it made sense. But it still sucked to know that his partner – his friend – had been having feelings all over the board for him and there was nothing he could do to help ease them. “Is that why you pulled that stupid stunt with the cologne?”

A faint blush crept into his cheeks. “Sorta. I mean, I didn’t honestly think it would work. You know, because it hadn’t worked for the perp?” At Wes’s nod of understanding, he continued. “I did it mostly to mess with you, but…”

“But…”

“Well, you know. You were here. You saw how it played out.”

Wes grinned and it caused Travis’ insides to turn to liquid. “Yeah. I was here. And out there. And in the elevator, and the car…”

“And in the shower?” Travis raised his eyebrows in suggestion.

“You,” he chuckled, “are incorrigible.”

“You’ve been reading my social worker’s files again, haven’t you?”

Wes just shook his head. “I guess I should make a confession, too, now that we’re airing all our dirty laundry.” He paused and Travis waited patiently, giving him the same respect he’d been given earlier. “I was terrified that I’d finish my shower and you’d be gone.”

This took Travis aback. “I’d never leave you, Wes. You’re my partner. And my friend.” And more.

He nodded, slowly, taking time with the movement. “I know that, now. But I – I was afraid. I’m so tired of being alone.” Swallowing back the tears waiting to burst forth, he leaned forward and pushed at Travis’ shoulder. “Now, you still need to get in the fucking shower. I suggest you do it before we’re called out of here and you have to face the captain smelling like sweat and sex.”

“And you,” he added.

“And me,” he agreed, liking the way that made him feel inside. “Now mush. If you’re a good boy and you get your ass in the water in the next five minutes, maybe we can have dinner?”

“I’d like that.” Travis grinned and then faltered. “But, what… what if you’re not interested once I’m aphrodisiac-free?”

There was genuine fear in his partner’s face, it killed Wes to see it there. “I don’t have an answer for that other than I’ll always have your back. We’ll find a way to work through it. You, me, Dr. Ryan…”

“And all those wingwangs in our couple’s group.”

Wes smiled fondly. “Yeah, and them, too. Now MOVE.”

He watched Travis pull his naked self out of bed and lumber unhappily into the bathroom. As the door closed behind him and the shower started up again, Wes took a deep breath. Holding it for a moment, he made a promise to himself to give things – Travis - a chance, before blowing the air back out of his nose. Something occurred to him then. He cautiously took another sniff. And then another.

“I’ll be damned,” he mumbled.

“Are we going down this conversational route again,” Travis asked from the vicinity of the sink.

“Aren’t you in the shower yet,” he deflected.

“Not yet. And what are you out there muttering about anyway?”

“I can’t smell you,” he spluttered gleefully.

“You can’t what?”

“I. Can’t. Smell. You.” Wes enunciated each word clearly.

“And that’s a good thing?” He put a touch of mock-hurt into his reply.

“In this case, yeah, it is.” Wes made his way over to where Travis stood, using Wes’ razor. Oh lovely, Trav, thanks for asking first. He ghosted the tips of his fingers along the curve of one shoulder, testing. “It means that the potion’s worn off, you idiot.”

“And?”

And I still want you. "And nothing. Everything. Hell, I don't know." He dropped Travis' jeans at his feet, having grabbed them on the way over. "I just know that I'm oddly looking forward to our dinner later. Now - get in the shower. Please don’t make me ask you again." He gave his partner a playful shove in the right direction.

"Okay, okay!" Travis winked, picking his jeans up. He closed the door behind him before fishing in a front pocket for the secret he kept there. Smiling, he popped the cap off the tiny bottle and upended it into the toilet. "You were fun while you lasted, but it looks like I don't need you anymore." His grin widened. "You see, once Wes gets started, there's no stopping him."

He flushed the toilet and ducked into the water.

Code Red 2: Life Sentence ~ Chapter 10

Mika's Note: Where the hell did my chapter titles go?  Somebody forgot them when she transferred things I think! LOL

Chapter 10

“I think she’s lucky she didn’t get sued,” Albie was telling Bazooka over lunch.  “Doesn’t matter these days that she and Red didn’t start it.”

Bazooka just grunted in response; he was a man of few words.

“No, that bitch is just lucky Ali didn’t break her into little pieces,” Andy put in, infuriated at the way Lockhart and Tracey had reacted to last weekend’s barroom brawl.  “She’s more than a trained soldier, she’s practically a trained assassin and they just expect her to sit there and let the cow humiliate her?”

“Not our Ali,” Bazooka agreed.

“Or our Shana,” Dusty amended.

“Definitely not Shana,” Albie acknowledged.  “Ali can be more dangerous, but Shana’s got the worst temper ever.  Aw,” he whined when his phone rang, “what now?”  He pulled it from his holster and frowned at the caller ID.  “Yeah?”

“Hey,” Blake greeted him, “are you free?  I need to talk to you.”

“Excuse me for a sec,” he told his lunch buddies.  Once out of earshot, he muttered, “Okay, what’s up?”

“I’m about to go nuts.”

“Too late for ‘about’.”

“Ha ha, Albie.  I’m serious.  I never thought things could get so serious so fast, but I am miserable without your sister.  I sneak as many phone calls and e-mails as I can, but it’s not the same.  I need to see her.  Hold her.  You know.”

He did.  “Yeah, I do.  I just don’t know what I can do to help you or her.”

“Get me some time alone with her, please,” Blake begged.  “I’ll be in town next month for that big charity thing.  I know you guys will be there for security, my label’s told me that much.”

Albert though about it for a minute.  “You do know that she’s in a bit of hot water over the um… incident with your ex, right?”

Blake frowned.  “Yes, I heard.  But she’ll still be there, right?”

“I honestly don’t know, but I don’t see how they can keep her out.”

“Good.  Just get me a few minutes, I want more, but will settle for what I can get.”

“I’ll do my best.”

“That’s all I can ask.”

~*~

 “Yes, Mr. Stewart.  Right down that hall and to your right,” Allyson instructed the towering, glowering musician.

“John.”

“Excuse me, sir?” she asked.

“John, honey.  Just John.”

“Yes sir!” she replied automatically.  “I’m sorry, I meant John.”  She blushed and shook her head.  “I apologize I’ve…”

“Been in the military too long?” he finished for her.

“Yeah, that too.”

He graced her with one of his rare smiles.  “Don’t worry about it,” he paused, “this time.  But,” he teased threateningly, “next time…”

She smiled and waved him down the hallway.

“Boy, you sure know how to charm them all don’t you?” sneered a voice.

“Gee, Miss Morgan, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”  Ali gave a mental eye roll to the barely-twenty-year-old blonde standing before her.  “Down the hall, to the left, and the third door.”

Leslie grunted and stalked off in search of her table.  Ali could barely contain her grin. 

“I promise not to tell Stone you sent her to the Janitor’s closet,” a voice whispered in her ear, “if you promise not to smack me for telling Blake you were here tonight.”

“Ah crap, Albie!  He wasn’t supposed to know.”  She glared up at her brother.  “Hell, I wasn’t even supposed to be here!”

“I know, babe, but he heard your voice on the two-way when I met him at the drop-off.”  Albert shrugged helplessly.  “I told him you were doing communications work tonight and wouldn’t be visible.  Soo...” his voice trailed off.

“Soo… seeing as I can see his curly head over all the rest of these people, I guess I oughta split then.”

“Might be a good idea.”  He cringed inwardly at breaking his earlier promise to Blake.  Tried as he might, he was unable to find a way to get them any time alone.

“Yeah, right.  If you ask me, it sucks.”

“Conveniently, no one asked you, Lieutenant.”

The pair turned to see General Stone directly behind them.  “Yes sir.  On my way to locate the communications and security command post, sir!”  She gave them both a mock salute and high-tailed it out of eyesight.

“Now you,” Stone pointed at Albert, “take over her job.”

“Yes sir!”

The general rolled his eyes and asked the ceiling silently, “Why me?  Why?”

~*~

“All right, Blake, turn around,” Albert instructed.

Blake obeyed, allowing Albie to briefly frisk him for weapons and/or explosives.  “I’m not your bubble-headed friend, you know.  I’m not going to blow anything up.”  At Albert’s grin, he continued.  “And you’re not the one I had in mind to frisk me, either.”

“Yeah,” he replied in a falsetto not suited to him, “blue-eyed brunettes are so not my type.”

“You are so lucky you’re armed tonight.”

Grinning, “You’re dressing room is down this direction, second door on the left.”

“Thanks, I think.”  Leaning in towards Albie, he whispered, “Where is she, really?”

At the look of desperation in Blake’s eyes, he let the grin slip.  “Hanging out with our security out back.  There’s no way to get to her.  Not until later.”  He caught the other man’s gaze and tried to smile.  “I’m sorry.  I tried.”

Blake sighed and leaned back.  “Doesn’t matter anyway, does it?”  Dejectedly, he stalked off.

“Wait!”

“What?” Blake turned anxiously.

“I’ve got an idea…”

~*~

“Allyson?”

“Hmm?”

“Are you here with us tonight or not?”

“I’m here, Captain.  What’s up?”

“You’ve been monitoring those video screens like it’s the end of the world or something.”

Shit!  “No, not the end of the world.  Just hoping…” For what?  For him to appear out of nowhere and wave?  

“Why are you even back here with us tonight?  You should be out with the people.  You’d blend in so much better than those bunch of grunts.” Jacob, their resident computer geek, commented.

“Yeah, but Stone and Lockhart don’t trust me.”  Ali grinned suddenly.  “And Tracey doesn’t trust him.”

“Him?”  Captain Kruger asked.  “Him who?”

She beamed as a familiar hat stopped in the middle of the busy floor area.  “Him,” she tapped the screen as Blake grinned and waved.

~*~

“Blake,” Leslie questioned, coming up beside him and sliding her arm through his.  “What the hell are you doing?”

“Waving!”  He waved again and turned to his one-time girlfriend.

“To who?”  She looked around, confused.  “Everyone’s that way.”  She pointed in the direction opposite of where he was facing, frown planted firmly on her face.

“I was… never mind.”  He sighed and turned away from the surveillance cameras.  “You look nice tonight, Lee.”

“Thanks, cutie.  You’re not so bad yourself, ya know.”

He forced a smile and waded out into the sea of people in an attempt to find their seats.

~*~

“Bitch.”

“Um, Lieutenant…”

“Stuff it, Kruger.”

“Yes, ma’am!”

“Yes, Captain,” Jacob Meyers cautioned, “just obey and be a good boy and you shouldn’t get hurt.”

“Not too badly anyway.”  Ali flashed Kelly Kruger a playful smile and went back to monitoring the now Blake-less video screens.  “Bitch!”  She growled under her breath.

~*~

“No, Lee, I’m sure there was a mistake,” Blake said again, looking into the janitor’s closet and wondering.  

“Oh, no I seriously doubt there was a mistake.  That cow did it on purpose!”

Cow?  “What do you mean?”

“That… woman… soldier… that was guarding you before.  She was the one who sent me here.”

Good one, Ali.  “I’m sure she was mistaken.  Here, we’ll go get it figured out.”  Blake directed her back towards Albie and his desk, pausing briefly to flash Ali a ‘thumbs up’ as he passed the surveillance cameras.  

“Rogan?”

“Huh?”  Turning, he saw Blake’s barely restrained grin and Leslie’s irate glare.  “How may I help you this evening?”

“Are you her supervisor?”

“Her who, ma’am?”

“You know… her.  The one who was here,” she waved angrily at the table-turned-desk, “before you.”

“Ah.  Sorry, no.  She’s my supervisor technically.”

“Maybe, but I am her supervisor, so to speak.”

Damn!  “Caleb, its okay…” Albie began.

“What is the problem?” Lockhart asked, not really wanting to know.  He listened intently, growing angrier by the moment.  I knew better than to bring her here tonight.  We just couldn’t risk not having her here either.  When Leslie finished her rant, Caleb slapped Albert across the back of the head.

“Ouch!  What was that for?” he asked, rubbing his skull.

“What part did you have in this?” Lockhart demanded.

“None.”

“I’m not buying it.  She’s not ever up to anything that doesn’t include you and/or Shana!”

Albie glanced at Blake and grinned.  “I can think of a thing or two she’s been up to lately that I know for sure I had nothing to do with.”  Blake suddenly decided to study a very interesting spot on the ceiling. 

“Maybe not directly, but I know you two.  Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum.”

“Speaking of which,” Blake interrupted.  “Where’s Bazooka?  I wanna stay clear.”

Leslie stared at her ex and opened her mouth, ready to question him when Lockhart interrupted.

“He’s outside.  I know about his track record with you.  I made a point to keep him… and Allyson, damn her… out of your hair tonight.”  He turned to Leslie then.  “Miss Morgan, please accept my apologies.  I will insure that she is properly disciplined for this.”

“Thank you.  Now, come on Blake.  We’ve got to get ready.”

“I’ll show you to your dressing room, Miss Morgan.”

They both turned to see Bryan Tracey, arm out, waiting.  “Yeah, why don’t you let him escort you, Lee?”

“Well,” she looked at Bryan and smiled sweetly, “okay.”

Caleb shook his head at the couple as they walked away.  “Mr. Matson, do you need an escort as well?”

Knowing he wouldn’t get the one he wanted, he shook his head.  “I’m fine.”

“Good.  Looking forward to the performance tonight.”  Blake nodded and started to walk off.

“So,” Albert began, “please explain to me why Ali’s not allowed to even talk to Blake and that ass is able to parade Leslie around?  Hmm?”

“The situations are different.”

“Ah, so, what you’re saying is that because Tracey’s male, it’s okay to sleep with his charges but it’s not okay for Ali or Shana because they belong to you and him.”

“That is not what I meant and you know it!” Lockhart fumed.  “You, of all people, know exactly why she isn’t allowed to do this!”

“It may not be what you meant, but it sure as hell is what you implied.”  He stood up.  “Now, if you don’t mind, everyone is signed in and ready to go.  I’m going to my position to watch the show and watch for bad guys.”

Unable to refute his logic, Caleb kept his mouth shut.  Still angry over the practical joke Ali, a senior officer, had pulled on one of their guests tonight, he stormed off to confront her, never noticing Albert and Blake walking off together.

Code Red 2: Life Sentence ~ Chapter 9

Mika’s Note: Even after four years, I take an exceptional amount of joy out of this chapter.  *snerk*

Oh, and if some of the dialogue sounds an awful lot like hijacked song lyrics, well, it's because they are.  Not mine and I admit it.
 
Crazy Ex-Girlfriend

Having to say good-bye for good the second time was even harder than it had been the first go ‘round. Seeing the hurt and anguish in his beautiful blue eyes made it hell. Neither of them had wanted to be the first to say the words they knew had to come, but eventually Ali took it upon herself to start the unpleasantries. At first, he had refused to listen to her, but he came around before long, crying and holding her tightly, begging her to find a way to fix this.

No such luck.

He’d eventually pulled himself together, although it had been hard. They’d spent most of the night before discussing where they might have gone had the outcome of the weekend been different. Ali refused to consider the idea that she’d have to raise his child on her own; there wasn’t any way she could have coped with that. She’d been down that lonely road once before. Never again.

She sat in her office, staring at the computer screen, wishing she was anywhere but here. Despite her best efforts, her mind kept wandering back to their last moments together. It became almost impossible for her to get him off her mind. And it had been two weeks since their last good-bye. He’d had no idea that last night what he was going to do when he left her, although he’d sworn he’d never go back to Leslie. Not after the lying. The cheating. All the heartache.

But Ali often wondered.

He’d probably be easier to get over if he quit texting her every twenty minutes. She looked at her phone as it buzzed on the desktop. Snagging it and reading the message, she couldn’t help but smile. He was trying; he just wasn’t succeeding very well. With a sigh, she responded quickly to his standard, “I miss you, this is BS” text with her usual, “Ditto x 2”.

“And just what are you smiling about?”

Ali looked up guiltily, attempting to hide her phone. Seeing her redheaded roommate standing in the doorway, she sheepishly waved her cell at her. “A text I just got.”

“Hmm,” Shana mused, stepping inside and closing the door. “And who might it have been from?”
Shrugging dismissively, Ali lied, “No one special.”

Shana grinned, knowing better. “I know these last couple weeks have been hard and I was thinking we both needed a night out.”

Studying her friend for a moment, she became aware of the dark circles under her eyes. “Shana, I’m so sorry, I’ve been so self-absorbed lately, I hadn’t noticed…”

She stopped her friend before she could go any farther. “It’s not like my issues are anything new, you know. Caleb’s on my ass about everything these days and becoming more annoying by the minute. I finally just told him to take a flying leap.”

“And thus your need to go out?” Shana nodded emphatically. “Good. Not that either of us needs a reason!”

“Amen, sister.” Shana grinned and hugged Ali tightly. “Eight sound good?”

“Perfect.” She patted the other’s back. “I’ll meet you at home.”

~*~

“Hey Ali,” Shana semi-shouted into her friend’s ear, “I think that guy’s checking you out.”

“Which one?” she asked, looking around the crowded bar.

“That one,” she replied, half-pointing to an attractive, brunette sitting with a young blonde at a table on the other side of the bar.

“He looks… familiar. I just can’t place where from.”

“Not our base,” Shana agreed. “But somewhere. He’s cute anyway.”

“Yeah,” Ali confirmed. “But if he’s not a green shirt, why’s he here? Not too often we get non-military in here.”

“I’m not sure but he’s headed our way.”

Ali looked up, taking a drink of her margarita. Seeing who was headed her way, she almost choked. Smiling past the burn of tequila, steeling her nerve, she waited for him to close in.

“Don’t I know you?” he asked Ali. Turning to Shana, he got quiet for a moment and then pointed in her direction. “You look familiar too. Have we met?”

Trying to hide her embarrassment, Ali nodded. “Yes sir, Mr. McTavish, we’ve met, but just once.”

Ashton McTavish, up and coming country music heartthrob, blinked his blue eyes at her and thought. “Hm, I can’t figure out where though. And have I met you as well?” He looked at Shana; she nodded. “I’ll have to think on it then.”

Waiting until Ashton had gotten a safe distance away, the girls giggled and spit margarita all over each other. “Oh my god…” Shana spluttered.

“Yeah, no doubt!” Ali agreed. “Good thing he’s married.”

“Why’s that? Having naughty thoughts like I am?”

“Maybe…” she admitted. “Blake’d have a fit if he finds out.” Realizing her mistake, she quickly amended her faux pas with, “Not that he has a say any longer, that is.”

“And speaking of the devil…” Shana grinned as Ali’s cell phone began ringing, Blake’s voice coming from the speaker.

“Yes Cowboy, what can I do for you?” She turned from watching Ashton return to his table and watched the bartender instead.

“Just checkin’ in on ya, as usual. This being away from you is killing me.”

“I know, me too, but so far, I don’t have any ideas on how to fix it.”

“Hurry, please.”

“I’m trying, honey, I swear.”

“Glad to hear it. Where are you now? It’s kinda loud.”

“Hangers. It’s a bar not far from base. Red and I are unwinding.”

“Uh-huh,” he said doubtfully. “I’m jealous. Don’t go home with anybody if he isn’t me, okay?”

“Hey!” Ashton shouted, coming up behind Ali. “I remember where we met.”

“Hold on a sec, Blake.” Ali covered the phone briefly and grinned. “Really? Where?”

“Who the hell are you talking to?” Blake demanded.

“Someone. Give me a sec.”

“Tell him you’re taken!” Blake growled.

“Hush you, you’re not allowed to own me anymore, remember?” Turning back to her visitor she asked, “Where is it we’ve met?”

“In Vegas last year, for the awards show. I remember you both from that night.”

Ali and Shana grinned at each other. “I’m Shana, Mr. McTavish. This is my partner, Ali.”

“Hi ladies. Can I get you a drink now that I know who you are?”

“Tell him no and to go away,” came the angry voice in Ali’s ear.

“Mr. McTavish?”

“Ashton, sweetie.”

“Okay, Ashton…”

“Ashton? I only know one person with that name, Allyson. What the f…”

“Blake, shut up.” She said into the phone. “Ashton, my friend on the phone here told me to tell you that I have no life of my own and that I belong to him,” she waggled her eyebrows at him in amusement, “and then he wanted me to tell you to go away.” She grinned evilly at Ashton.

“Did ya tell your friend I was married?” he asked.

“I doubt he’ll care.” Turning back to her phone she murmured, “I’ll call you when I get home. I promise to be good.” Before he could reply, she hung up.

“So, what jogged your memory so quickly?” Shana asked him.

“My tour mate over there said she recognized you,” he pointed to Ali, “as being the bitch who stole her boyfriend. And I’m paraphrasing here.”

This time, Ali did choke on her drink. Looking up she remembered suddenly that Leslie Morgan was touring with Ashton McTavish this year. “Oh god help me,” she muttered into her glass, seeing Leslie steaming over at the table. “I swear I didn’t steal him…” she began to laugh.

“Nope, sure didn’t,” Shana confirmed. “Blake came by his own free will.” Taking her own words in the wrong way, Shana began to laugh too.

“Oh, and then some,” Ali coughed into her margarita. “Bartender? Another two please.” She continued to laugh, not knowing what to say now.

Ashton’s eyes widened. “So, you’re the one she’s been ranting about for the last several months?” He laughed along with the girls. “I guess Blake has better taste than Lee’s been giving him credit for.”

“That’s debatable,” Ali and Shana said together.

Grinning, Ashton shook his head at the two tipsy girls. “So, I’m guessing that he was who you were talking to a minute ago?” Ali nodded. “Hm, I’m guessing he didn’t have any idea who you were talking to when he told you to tell me off?” Ali shook her head this time, trying not to die of embarrassment. “Nice Blake. Don’t ever tell my wife about this or I’ll never hear the end of it.”

Ali laughed and took another sip of her drink. “Yeah well, you know how it goes, jealous men and all.” She didn’t have the heart to bring up the very evident fact that they weren’t together any longer.

“Really? That’s too…” Ashton was suddenly pushed aside and a glaring, angry Leslie Morgan stood in his place.

“You fucking cow!” she screamed.

Ali looked at Shana and raised her eyebrows. Shana swigged the last of her drink and set her glass on the bar.

“Pardon me?” Ali asked, attempting to remain as calm as possible. If she flipped, so would Red, and then Leslie would be in little bleach-blonde bits on the floor.

“You heard me, you whore! Man-stealer! Home wrecker!”

Ali looked at Ashton and repeated what she’d said earlier. “I swear to god, I did not do anything to encourage that incorrigible man.” Looking back at Leslie, she grinned. “Home wrecker, huh? So, is that why you were sleeping with my commanding officer two weeks after you left Blake’s side?”

Knowing Bryan had been bragging loudly about it certainly helped her cause. “Still think that I’m the home wrecker?”

“Absolutely, you bitch!”

Ali set her glass down on the bar and stood up. “Well then, in the words of Gretchen Wilson, babe, ‘You can take this somewhere else or we can take it outside.’ Which do you prefer?”

Despite being three or four sheets to the wind, Ali sidestepped the swing coming her way. Placing her boot to Leslie’s ass, she pushed her while she was unbalanced and watched her fall. Turning, she downed the last of her margarita quickly, waiting to see if the blonde would resurface.

Instead of Leslie, she got two angry men. Band mates of the downed singer. Shrugging, Shana asked Ali, a little too eagerly, “You want the blonde or the brunette?”

“I’ll take the blonde. Got a grudge against them at the moment.”

“Deal.”

Totally in synch, Ali and Shana pulled back and let loose, hitting both band members square in the jaw. Ashton couldn’t help but laugh; watching two drunken women take out two young men in one punch was more than he’d bargained for. He knew he should be rooting for his tour mate, but he couldn’t help but like these two feisty girls.

Leslie pulled herself off the floor and got back into Ali’s face. “I don’t know what he ever saw in you except for a cheap lay,” she spat angrily. “But I do know that I’m better off without him.”

“All I know for certain is one: I’m not cheap. Two: you are one psycho bitch and I feel sorry for him for ever getting mixed up with you.”

Paling with anger and embarrassment, Leslie pulled her fist back and connected with Ali’s abdomen. Pissed, Ali swung again, not holding back like she had before. Her fist met the bitch’s eye, knocking her into Shana. Grabbing hold of the instigator, Shana kicked the back of her knees, sending her down to the ground yet again.

Ali reached out, shook her friend’s hand, and noticed the combination of amusement, fear and awe on Ashton’s face. “Thanks, Red.”

“Anytime, Ali.”

“Okay, ladies. Break it up.” Came a stern voice from the back of the bar.

“Crap,” Ali and Shana moaned together.

~*~


“Caleb, I swear to you, I was just defending myself.”

“Yeah, Cal, it’s true.”

“You two are on my list at the moment. I’d keep my mouth shut if I were either of you.” Caleb Lockhart marched angrily down the row of jail cells. He’d bailed them out, but he wasn’t happy about it. Fuming might be a better word. Steaming, even. “What the fuck possessed you to take on a celebrity, Allyson?”

“She called Ali a man-stealer and a home wrecker,” Shana giggled.

“You two are freakin’ drunk to boot,” Lockhart sighed angrily. “I give up.”

Ali stuck her tongue out at Leslie Morgan as they passed her cell. Wiggling her fingers at the blonde, she watched her blanch and then turn red. “Yeah, I swear, I didn’t steal him. He gave himself to me.” Ali started to laugh again too.

Caleb turned to the officer in charge and moaned, “Can’t I leave them here until they’ve sobered up?”

Grinning, the officer shook his head. “Sorry, once you’ve claimed ‘em ya gotta keep ‘em.”

“Hey Ali,” Shana perked up suddenly.

“Yeah?”

“I bet Blake would love the handcuffed look.”

“No doubt. He’s funny that way.” Ali laughed and looked at Caleb. He was beyond pissed.

Stopping short, he turned on Ali, fuming. “I just don’t get you. You have the man you were after, why did you have to pick a fight? She’s half your size for cryin’ out loud!”

“First of all,” she spat in frustrated anger, “I don’t have him any more, remember? You and freaking Bryan made sure of that.” She caught her commander’s eyes and refused to let them go. “Secondly, I didn’t pick…”

“I don’t care. I want to know why you fought with her.”

Ali looked at Shana and shrugged. Taking a deep breath, she sang loudly, “I watched her for a while but I didn't like her walk. She came across kinda cheap to me, but hey, how's that my fault…”

Shana grinned and joined in, “I'm a crazy ex-girlfriend…”

Caleb looked them both over and sighed. “I give up. When they’re sober, I think I’ll try again…”

Pushing them both into the back of the Jeep, he buckled them in and drove off towards base.

~*~

“Hello?”

“Blake? It’s Asthon. How’re you doin’?”

“Um, good, I think.” Depending on whether you had the nerve to touch my woman or not. “What’s up?”

“I wanted to tell you that you have one spitfire of a woman on your hands.”

“Ah, so you’ve met Ali then,” Blake braced himself for what was coming next. He never knew how people were going to react to Ali.

“Yup. And her redheaded friend too.”

“Oh gods,” he moaned, putting his head in his hand. “Please tell me they weren’t drinking when you met up with them.”

Ashton laughed. “Oh yeah. What a team those two make, attractive, intelligent, and feisty. Oh, and don’t be expecting that call she promised you until tomorrow sometime.” He laughed even harder, thinking about all three women being led out in handcuffs.

“Why? When should I be expecting it?”

“Probably not until she and the redhead make bail.”

“Oh. My. God.” Blake hung up the phone and stared at the wall. What now? Not like he could just come to her aid.

Code Red 2: Life Sentence ~ Chapter 8

Mika’s Note: What?  It’s only been four years since I updated this story.

Back to the Grind

They’d managed to steal four days alone before Ali’s leave time was up. Reluctantly, they said good-bye and went their separate ways. Ali went back to her headquarters in Washington, DC; Blake back to his sometime-home in Nashville before heading back to his real home outside of Tulsa.

Ali sat with her booted feet propped on her desk, thinking on her recent mission to Peru. The situation there had been handled and the rebels, aka terrorists, had been contained. Something still didn’t make sense but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. Yet. She leaned back in her chair and tapped her lips with a finger.

“Let it go,” the voice told her.

She looked up and met the soft brown eyes of fellow soldier, Andrew Kash. “Hey Andy, let what go?”

“Whatever it is you’re thinking so hard about. It can’t be good.”

Ali grinned, sitting up in her chair and putting her feet back on the floor. “I was just rehashing our last mission.”

Andrew frowned. “See, I told you it wasn’t good.” He leaned forward and rested his forearms on the edge of her desk. “What has you rethinking that one? We went in, we got out, none of the good guys got hurt.”

“Yeah,” she agreed, “but something’s still not right. We never found their ring leader and that worries me.”

He shrugged, unconcerned. “They all slither back to the same dank hole eventually, so why worry?”

“I dunno,” she admitted, “I just feel like we missed something and it’s annoying me.”

“Better put it out of your mind soon. Just heard General Stone discussing a possible new mission with Caleb and Bryan. I think your office was their next stop.”

“Thanks for the heads up. I can look busy then.”

Laughing, he couldn’t pass up the chance to tease her a little. “Also gives you time to get him off your mind.”

Ali growled and he ran for the door. “Jerk,” she muttered. Approximately three minutes later there was a knock on her door. “Enter.”

General Stone entered followed by her two commanding officers, Bryan and Caleb. “Afternoon Lieutenant, may we have a seat?”

She wasn’t so sure she liked this; for any kind of mission debriefing or discussion she’d have been summoned to them. The fact that they had come to her boded ill for everyone. “Of course, General. Can I get any of you a drink?” She had a mini fridge stocked with bottled water and Frappuccino's for those times when she desperately needed a caffeine fix.

“No thank you, Allyson,” Stone replied, urging her to sit. “We’ve come to,” he looked at his two right hand men, momentarily at a loss for words, “have a bit of a discussion with you.”

“Okay,” she began, slightly afraid. “Any other time, I probably would be aware of what I’d done to deserve a confrontation like this, but for once I’m at a loss. Enlighten me.”

Caleb frowned. “I think you’re pretty sure of what you’ve done.”

“Huh?” Ali looked from face to face trying to find some hint of the crime she’d committed but wasn’t getting any help. “Okay, so call me stupid, but I really don’t know.”

“It’s probably because she doesn’t think it was wrong,” Bryan snorted angrily. “Sleeping with a man committed to another woman doesn’t generally cross her mind as wrong.”

“Fuck me,” she mumbled under her breath. “This is about Blake then, I’m guessing?”

“Yes,” General Stone started, leaning forward in an effort to intimidate her. She’d known him for too many years however, he didn’t intimidate her in the least. “It has been brought to my attention that you’ve had an… interlude… with the man.”

Ali choked on the mouth of water she’d taken. Interlude? She swore they’d performed entire concerts… “Excuse me?”

Bryan opened his mouth, ready with an angry response, but the good General beat him. “I have reason to believe you’ve been intimate with Mr. Matson, Allyson.”

Looking from Bryan to Caleb, she realized that they’d either assumed she would or had found out somehow. Undaunted and unashamed she wasn’t worried that she’d done anything really wrong. “And?”

“And you damn well knew you weren’t allowed!” Bryan managed to get his nasty retort in this time.

“Allowed? Are you my father now? I sure as hell hope not because…”

“Bryan! Allyson!” General Stone bellowed. “Stop it now.”

“Yes sir,” they muttered, glaring at one another.

“What he means is that you knew going in that any sort of fraternization between the two of you was not permitted. You broke that rule.”

“Only after the mission was finished.”

The General squeezed his eyes shut, hoping he really hadn’t heard her correctly. “So they’re right then,” he asked her, slowly opening his eyes to look at her.

“Yes, sir,” she admitted, frightened for the first time since they’d arrived.

“Lieutenant, you do know that that’s not allowed either?”

“If I had known, do you think I would have done it?” Seventeen times.

Stone let out a heavy breath. “When did you last see him?”

“My last visit home, a week or so ago.”

“Make sure that it’s your last.” General Stone stood to leave and motioned to the other two to do the same.

“But General…”

“No buts, Allyson. You know the rules.”

“And this is a new one for me,” she fumed.

Bryan crossed his arms and smirked, waiting for the fireworks to fly.

Stone looked around and frowned. “Bryan, Caleb, wait for me back at my office.”

“But,” they both spluttered, disappointed at missing what was sure to be a real show.

“Now,” he growled.

“Yes, sir,” they muttered and slinked out the door.

Ali glared. “When did the rules change?”

Stone held his hands up. “I’m sorry, but I have no choice. Keeping your identity on the down-low is high priority. If you start dating someone who is so high profile, it will blow your cover. Makes it hard to go unnoticed when everyone knows who you are.”

He had a point there, she had to admit. “I have no intentions of being in the spotlight with him. He even said that he didn’t want to share me with the world. I don’t see…”

“Because you are blind. You know what you have to do, now do it. Understand?”

Ali nodded, unhappy. Blake was going to be pissed. And that’s if she was lucky.

~*~

“You’re kidding me, right?” Shana pleaded, wondering just when the world had gone crazy and why she hadn’t noticed. “Please tell me you’re fucking kidding me.”

Ali shook her head slowly and sat in her favorite chair. “’Fraid not, Red. Official orders are to break off any semblance of a relationship. And, I quote, ‘ensure he knows it’s permanent’.” She sighed, frowning up at her best friend. “Not sure it’s him I need to convince.”

Shana growled in frustration. “Just when I thought you and I could get our lives back on track they do this.”

“I’ll live, I always do.”

“You shouldn’t have to,” she retorted angrily, “they do this to you way too much.”

Ali couldn’t deny that. “Yeah, but what can I do? I refuse, they toss me in jail and then I really can’t see him.” She closed her eyes and pressed her fingers to her temples. “How am I going to break this to him?” she whispered.

“I don’t know, honey, but I do know that you should do it soon. It’ll be easier for both of you that way.”

She nodded, but she wasn’t sure if this was going to be easy at all. Heaving a sigh, she picked up her cell and left the comfort of her chair for the solace of her bedroom.

~*~

Snapping his cell phone shut, he threw it angrily across the hotel room, denting a small hole in the wall. “Fuck,” he growled, inspecting the damage. Looking without really seeing, he put his back to the wall and rested his face in his hands. “Why?”

But he knew, he just refused to admit it. She’d told him from day one that there couldn’t be anything between them. He wouldn’t listen, in true Blake form, and denied her the option of telling him otherwise. Eventually, she’d given in and he’d taken full advantage.

And now he was screwed.

He should have walked away when he had the chance. He knew better than to chase after her, even knowing Leslie had directed her attentions elsewhere. However, he couldn’t stop seeing her. Calling her. Kissing her. Thinking of her. Pinning her to the wall and…

“Stop thinking things like that!” he admonished himself, angry that he couldn’t, didn’t want to, stop. She’d become such a part of his life, of him, in such a short time. And now she was gone.

Gone.

And he never had a chance to make her understand.

Mi Vida Loco (Common Law Fanfic)

Title: Mi Vida Loco

Fandom: Common Law

Pairing: Travis/Wes

Rating: NC-17 (quite possibly R, depending on your point of view)

Word Count: just shy of 4k (3,922 for those keeping score… and you know who you are)

Warnings: Language, smut, mistreatment of leather furniture, and still, your crack head author at work. 

The OMG What ARE You Doing Now Person: skyesurfer12. At least she’s stopped laughing at me.  For now.  That’s good, right?

Spoilers: None that I can think of offhand, but you now officially know that I’m a dork of epic proportions.  (This still fits, so I’m leaving it)

Hate mail: asphaltcowgrrl@aol.com

Author’s Note: All because of this prompt here. This time, the title is a variation on a really awesome, if a bit ancient, song by Pam Tillis.  The first line of the song says, “If you’re coming with me you need nerves of steel, ‘cause I take corners on two wheels”.  And what can I say?  That about sums it up.

One more to go after this, with the possibility of a total bit of insanity spurred by a random comment by my lovely beta, if I can pull it off.  Thanks for reading. 

--

Mi Vida Loco

No no no no no, he thought, white knuckling the steering wheel. What the fuck just happened?

“Wes?”

“What,” he growled.

“Where are we going?” Travis had asked this once before and hadn’t gotten an answer. He thought he knew. Hell, he hoped he knew, but Wes wasn’t being very forthcoming at the moment and since he was at the wheel, it was hard to really know for sure.

“Um, to that address you gave me a minute ago,” he hedged.

Travis grinned. “You’re going the wrong way, sweet cheeks.”

Wes opened his mouth until he realized Travis was right. Fuck. “Crap. I am. I’ll…”

“Keep heading back to your hotel?” He reached across the console separating them and squeezed Wes’ knee playfully.

“I am not heading back to my hotel,” he argued. Although, he actually was and hadn’t noticed that that was exactly where they’d been headed. “What are we doing, Trav?”

“Using this damn potion as an excuse to go rip each other’s clothes off?” His hand tightened on Wes’ leg again, this time moving farther up the length of lean muscle.

Wes sighed in frustration. He couldn’t deny that he hadn’t quite had enough of his partner, not by a long shot. And damn, did his hand feel good on him right there, hot and strong. Safe. A simple touch that changed everything.

He was certain there was only one way to decrease the discomfort he was currently in, and that was by following Travis’ suggestion, like it or not. “Okay. Point. But why are we doing this? It can’t just be the love cologne working overtime, can it?” Oh gods, please let it just be this fricken cologne…

Travis bit his bottom lip, chewing a bit as he thought. He knew what his answer to this question was: Hell no. He’d been attracted to Wes since the day they’d met. Those blue eyes and the crew cut he’d worn back in those days, they were too much to resist. But he couldn’t say that, not quite yet, in case this really was just the potion talking on Wes’ end of the bargain. “No clue. And you know me, I don’t much care.”

Wes snorted. “Truth. God, I hope we’re not going to regret this.”

I know I won’t, Travis told himself. “Things really can’t get any worse, can they? I mean, we’re already in therapy, right?” Wes just prayed he was right. “This just might tack on a few extra sessions…”

They rode in relative silence until they reached Wes’ current residence, a swanky hotel that Travis wouldn’t have been caught dead visiting, let alone living in. But that was a moot point now, because if he refused to enter, he’d be SOL, wouldn’t he? And that just wasn’t an option, not when he finally had Wes right where he wanted him. Metaphorically speaking… for the moment.

As they entered the lobby, Travis looked around, noticing all the little touches that made this such a high class place. Polished wooden counters. Smartly dressed staff ready to assist at a moment’s notice. Mirrored walls gilded with gold. Someone obviously had entirely too much spare money.

“Elevator’s this way,” Wes muttered, grabbing Travis’ arm and pulling him to the left. He punched angrily at the buttons until he heard a faint ding. Travis found himself shoved through the doors the moment they opened enough for his broad frame to fit through.

“Easy man, you don’t want to damage me yet.”

Wes flicked his eyes to his partner briefly. “Wanna bet?” He had to bite down on his tongue to keep from elaborating on that urge. That distinct urge to tie him down and have his way with him. Repeatedly. All because the scent of that infernal cologne was tickling his nose again, causing a rise in his suit pants that he couldn’t control. If there was one thing Wes hated, it was losing control in any manner. Swallowing hard, he looked out of the corner of his eye to find Travis watching him closely.

A small quirk of his lips was all that told Wes that he’d been busted. Caught. He breathed a hefty sigh, wondering if it was any use trying to fight the need building in his chest. He gave his partner a little more obvious look and found him still staring. Still smiling. Broadly. He was so fucked. “Trav?”

“Yeah, buttercup?”

Wes closed his eyes for a moment, grounding himself with the movement of the elevator rising, concentrating on the vibrations of the walls around him, thinking of anything but the delicious smell coming from the man beside him. He edged a little farther away, trying to put as much space between them as he could. “Nothing,” he muttered, rubbing his eyes with his fingertips. He was desperately fighting a losing battle and he knew it was hopeless.

A muted whimper was Travis’ only warning before Wes launched himself at him. Two pale hands hit his chest moments before Wes’ mouth latched onto his, biting, sucking, and begging. He stumbled backwards until his shoulders met the elevator wall behind him. Opening his mouth to Wes, he sucked his partner’s tongue into his mouth, responding eagerly.

Wes opened his eyes and was assaulted by the image of himself pressed against Travis reflected in the mirrored walls of the cage surrounding him. A helpless noise rose from his throat and he vowed silently to see this through to the end. The sight of his mouth locked onto another man’s, and that man’s arms wrapped around him tightly, hugging him close, was the most arousing vision he’d ever seen.

Another faint ding echoed in the confines of the elevator and Wes found himself being flung back this time. Before he could orient himself, he felt Travis grip his arm again, growling, “Get the fuck out, Detective Hotpants, and show me where your damn room is.”

Despite himself, Wes laughed. Travis taking control, now that was a new one. And he liked it. A lot. More than he should, probably, but he’d analyze that tidbit later, when he was alone again.

Fuck me. He pushed that idea out of his head, fast, and focused on the here and now. On Travis. On getting this freaking stubborn door open. He ran his keycard through the slot one more time, only to be denied again when a dark-skinned hand reached around him, taking it from his fingertips.

Travis flipped the card over, leaned into Wes’ back and slid the card into the reader, getting a green light. “You had it backwards, genius.”

A shiver of anticipation sped up Wes’ spine with the touch of hot breath on his skin. He turned his head slightly, enough to catch Travis’ eye, and glared at him. “You’re pressing your luck,” he countered. When Travis leaned just a tiny bit closer, causing the tip of his nose to brush his cheek, Wes remembered that this was not the time to be angry with his partner. They could discuss this incessant name calling later. Much, much later.

Swallowing his heart back into his chest, Wes squeezed the door handle until it clicked and opened inward. He stepped to the side and allowed the other man to enter first, watching the sway of his hips intently as he made his way inside. Wes was pretty certain Travis was putting a little extra umph into his walk, mostly for his benefit. It worked, too.

He watched Travis make his way to the middle of the living area, bracing his backside against the back of the leather couch. A smile crossed Travis’ face as he gestured for Wes to actually enter the hotel room and move a little closer. “Don’t you have anything better to do than stand in the doorway, Wes?” Hands met hips in a playfully impatient look.

The blonde took that as an invitation, crossing the distance between them in a few long strides. Stopping inches before Travis, he reached out with one foot, tapping at the worn sneakers crossed before him. Taking the subtle hint, Travis uncrossed his ankles, bringing his feet to rest in a more natural hip-width position. Wes took advantage of the space between his partner’s knees and insinuated himself between them.

Placing one hand on each of Travis’ thighs, he leaned in close to one ear and whispered, “Yeah, actually I do have better things to do.”

Travis couldn’t hide the quiver of expectation at the husky sound in his partner’s voice, coupled with his nearness. The waves of desire rolling off of Wes had him tongue-tied. He barely squeaked out, “Really?” Tearing his eyes off the determined set of Wes’ mouth, he tried to put on some courage. “Like what?”

“Well,” Wes drawled, lifting a hand slowly, “I thought I’d start with you.”

His hand tugged at Travis’ belt, pulling it through the buckle easily. The button holding his jeans closed proved to be a bit more of a challenge, requiring the use of both hands, leaving Travis feeling deprived of their warmth. He shifted his hips slightly, giving Wes a better angle to work with and to alleviate the pressure he was suddenly feeling against the front of them. “So,” he faltered, “what… where exactly did you plan to start with… me?”

Blue eyes flashed devious intentions. Wes allowed the corners of his mouth to turn up in the slightest hint of a grin before lowering himself to his knees. “I thought right about here would be a good place to begin, don’t you?” With one hand, he cupped Travis’ growing erection.

Travis, unable to do more than nod, watched Wes release his cock from the prison of his too-tight jeans and boxers. He caressed the length of him with the palm of a hand, making him harder and more eager. Taking that suggestive grin and turning it to one laced with pure evil, Wes nestled closer and took Travis into his mouth. Allowing himself to savor every inch of mocha skin, Wes took his time working his way up to the patch of dark hair at its base.

It was inevitable, Travis decided, that his knees would buckle the moment Wes made eye contact. Leave it to friggen Wes to even think about making eye contact at a time like this. Travis’ eyes had only barely fluttered open when he’d noticed his part – no, lover now, it had to be lover – watching his every reaction. Once he knew he was being watched, he couldn’t take his gaze from the blonde’s face. Or his mouth, to be completely honest. The sight of those full, pink lips gliding along the length of him was his undoing. A content hum of pleasure rumbled in his chest. “So… so damn good,” he breathed.

Wes couldn’t help but grin around his mouthful of man. It was something completely new for him and he was shocked at how much he loved the feel of the smooth skin stretched over hard-as-steel muscle. And the smell of his body… sweat and flesh and man all combined into one addicting fragrance he couldn’t get enough of. Burying his nose in the nest of hair surrounding Travis’ cock, he inhaled deeply, taking in all that was his partner and relishing it.

His hands worked their way behind Travis’ body and gripped his ass, pulling his hips forward so he could take him even deeper. Travis gave a muffled moan of encouragement and Wes complied, alternating between sucking and teasing with his tongue. Slowly, he pulled back, eyes locked on Travis’, and released his cock from his mouth. “You taste as amazing as you look,” he said. “And god, you smell good. Did you rub that crap all over you when I wasn’t looking?”

It was a feat to even shake his head. “No, just…” he faltered as Wes started stroking him methodically. “Just my neck, Wes. I…” His eyes pressed closed and his hips jutted forward, reaching to prolong the touch.

Wes stood, coming back to eye level with his lover. “Then why,” he kissed the line of his square jaw, “do you,” he pressed his lips to the crest of his cheekbone, “smell so,” another kiss, this time to the corner of his eye, “damn delicious?”

Travis turned his face into Wes’ wandering kisses, bringing their mouths together again. “I don’t know,” he admitted, not caring just as long as they got naked sooner rather than later. “Because you want me?” He snaked his arms around Wes’ waist, rubbing his back and bringing him in close, chest to chest, hip to hip.

“God do I want you,” he confessed. “Now.”

“Aw,” Travis teased. “You like me, you want to fuck me.”

“You idiot, yes, yes I do.” Fast and rough and hard and right this goddamned minute!

“What do you say?” He knew he was treading on dangerous ground here, but the temptation to push all of Wes’ buttons was too hard to resist. Besides, he was interested to see just how far undone Wes could become.

“Now,” he growled into Travis’ neck, nipping lightly at the skin there.

“Wrong answer, lover boy,” he teased. “How about you try please.”

“How about I bend you over the back of my couch and we call it even?”

Travis swallowed the sudden lump in his throat. “Yeah, we could do that, too.” Please? The simple fact that his pants were already halfway down his ass and his cock was bobbing free had nothing to do with his sudden change of heart. It was that sound in Wes’ voice, that utter desperation to rut like a couple of animals in heat, that was just what he was wanting to hear. The sign that Wesley Mitchell had finally lost all control.

Mission accomplished.

Wes, struggling to hold on to his remaining bit of dignity, fumbled with his belt three times before Travis’ hands reached out to help him once again. “Let me, buttercup,” he joked, breathless with need. He’d waited for so long, years, really, for this moment and he wasn’t sure if he could make it another five minutes.

“Please don’t call me that.” He groaned and leaned his head back, concentrating on the feel of Travis’ hands so near his aching cock.

“Aw, but they’re so cute,” he joked, “just like you. Little tiny delicate flowers.”

“I am not,” Wes grated out, pushing Travis’ hands away from his waist, “a delicate little fucking flower!” He jerked open the front of his suit pants and freed his own cock, praying that he could keep it together for just a minute longer.

He jerked Travis forward, kissing him roughly before forcing him into a pirouette of sorts. Having been pushed forward unexpectedly, Travis caught himself against the back of the couch, surprised by Wes’ aggression. He’d never admit this out loud, but he was also extremely aroused by the manhandling he was suddenly getting at the hands of his partner.

Wes leaned in and whispered, "Stay right here." He disappeared and returned a moment later with a bottle of lube leftover from some unremembered previous encounter. Yanking Travis' pants over his seductive hips, Wes gave them a final tug, watching as they fell to the floor. That pool of denim and cotton surrounding the worn sneakers made him smile. "I need you like crazy, Trav." A hand lazily caressed the mocha skin of his well-rounded ass.

"I'm here for you and if you don't hurry, I'm going to start without you."

"You wouldn't dare," Wes challenged, two fingers slipping between Travis' cheeks. He stroked his entrance lightly, eliciting a sexy squirm and a whimper from his lover. "Yeah, I didn't think so." Wes opened the tube of lube and squeezed it directly onto the other's skin, making him jump.

"Where do you keep that shit? The freezer?"

Laughing, Wes rubbed it into his skin, working one finger back between his cheeks and then inside. Travis opened his mouth but no words emerged. Gasps and groans were the only sounds he was capable of making, pressing backwards against Wes’ hard thighs and intrusive fingers.

“Yeah, I see that smart mouth isn’t so smart now, is it?” Wes loved having the tables turned on Travis. It wasn’t often that he was the one getting the snark in. “Want more?” The grunted reply was more than an answer. Wes maneuvered a second finger deep inside his partner, resting his forehead against the small of Travis’ back.

“Damn you, Wes, that’s not what I wanted more of,” he begged. “Please, for the love of…”

Wes rumbled out an inarticulate reply of his own, feeling his cock leap to attention at the sound of Travis begging. Begging! God, did he enjoy the sound of that. Replacing his fingers with the head of his cock, he pressed against Travis, littering his bare skin with a thousand and one butterfly kisses. When Travis’s groans turned to cries of desperation, he knew he was finally ready.

He got close to Travis’ ear, quietly suggesting he hold the fuck on before thrust into the man he had bent over his couch. Travis stumbled forward, caught himself, and pushed back into the next drive of Wes’ hips. Each pump of his hips was met with an equal push backwards, driving Wes insane, pushing him to move faster, to fuck harder.

Travis was weak in the knees again, panting, moving with Wes’ rhythm, unable to resist, to be able to do anything but ride the wave of desire to its end. His head fell to the edge of the couch, his grip tightening. He could hear Wes’ breath coming in harsh pants, the sweat from his chest and brow dripping onto Travis’ back. They were both close, dangerously so.

Wes lost control first, grinding down hard against his lover’s backside, hips and knees and bodies aligning perfectly for that one moment in time. The sound Wes’ orgasm pulled from his throat caused a reaction in Travis that reverberated deeply, forcing his own hot on Wes’ heels. Wes slumped forward, boneless, against Travis’ back, panting, desperate for his dancing heart to slow from a salsa to a waltz.

Already having lost all strength in his legs, Travis was hard pressed to hold the two of them upright for long. Lowering himself to his knees, he pressed his face against the cool leather covering the couch, a nervous giggle escaping. “Wes?”

“Mmm?” Wes had slid to the floor with him, arms around his waist, resting back on his heels. He pressed his cheek into Travis’ sweat-coated skin and inhaled the musky scent of sex and sweat and Travis. It was a heady combination.

“Uh,” he began, not quite sure how to break the news to his partner-turned-lover, “I think I made a mess of your couch.”

Hysterical giggles bubbled up in Wes’ chest. After what had just passed between the two of them, Travis was actually worried about a little spunk on the back of the couch. His body shook with laughter, creating an undeniable urge in Travis to laugh along with him. “Does that mean you’re not mad?”

Wes pressed his lips to Travis’ smooth skin one more time. Yeah, he was actually worried about the mess. This, too, was a first. “Don’t worry about it, Trav,” he reassured him, lightly tracing designs in the moisture on his skin. “It’s leather. It’ll wipe off.”

Travis twisted out of Wes’ embrace and turned so that they were eye-to-eye. “So, buttercup, where do we go from here?” He tried to soften his anxieties by brushing his lips against Wes’. When Wes responded with a smile, he breathed again, confident that he wasn’t going to be abruptly tossed into the hallway with his shoes in his hands.

“Where indeed,” Wes replied, rubbing his neck with the tips of his fingers, thinking. “And I thought I told you not to call me that.”

“I can’t think of anything better,” Travis confessed, “so, until I do, it’s stuck.”

Wes frowned, but couldn’t hold it for long. He was too drunk on passion to stay mad, even for a minute. “I guess the first step is admitting that we’re not making that second stop this afternoon.”

Travis grinned broadly. “No, I don’t think we are.”

Trapping Travis’ gaze with his own, Wes took a leap of faith by asking, “How about we just go…” He lost his nerve but inclined his head in the direction of his bedroom.

“Yeah, how about we…?” Travis laughed, trying to tamp his glee into something manageable. He stood, reaching a hand down for Wes, helping him to his feet.

Wes rose to his full height, throwing one arm around his partner’s neck, pulling him into a lengthy kiss, sharing desire and passion and hope. “Can we, I mean, can I… can I ask a favor?”

Travis pulled back and scoured Wes’ face for any hint of something unhappy to come. He could sense worry and concern, but even Travis knew that was natural after what had just happened between the two of them, but what else was there, lurking in the shadows of his face? “Yeah, anything man, you know that.”

He couldn’t bear the intensity on Travis’ face, couldn’t stand the nerves making him so unsure of himself. Wes turned away from Travis’ intense scrutiny. “Can we… can we just not talk about this right now?” God, he hated the way he sounded, the hurt he knew had to be showing on Travis’ face. Why was he such a fucking coward suddenly? He just had sex with his best friend, his partner, the one person he trusted with his life. Why was it so hard to accept that he had feelings for him? It’s so sudden, how can it be real? “I…”

“I get it,” Travis interrupted, saving him. “It’s the stud cologne that’s got you all riled up and confused. It’s all good.”

“Ohthankgodyougetit,” he breathed out in a rush, slumping slightly from that weight being lifted from his chest. “Travis, I, I don’t want you to get the wrong idea…”

Travis held up a hand. “I just said it was all good. Ya want me to jump in the shower and scrub myself with that expensive ass body wash you use and see if you still want to jump me, even when I’m clean?” He plastered on his most innocent expression while waiting for Wes’ response.

His attempt to scowl was thwarted by the laughter bursting forth. “Oh lord, no. All I want is for you to get that ass of yours into my freaking bedroom before we do more damage to my furniture!”

Travis saluted, hiked up his jeans, and took off down the hall. Wes shook his head, smiling at the amount of playfulness contained within that boy when he noticed the back of his couch. “God damnit, he did make a mess of my couch! Travis! Come back here and clean this up! I thought you were joking!” He got it everywhere!

“Nuh-uh,” Travis called from the other side of the suite, “you told me to ‘get my fine ass into your freaking bedroom’.”

“I never said it was fine,” Wes disagreed. “Oh, never mind,” he mumbled, grabbing a damp cloth and cleaning it up himself. He figured that he could hold this over Travis’ head later, making him pay for defiling nice leather in such a manner.

Wes couldn’t help but grin at that thought.

Mi Vida Loco

Okay, so my first fanfic got quite the shocking response – I even got encores for “MORE!” which really surprised me.  Not because I think I’m a terrible writer, but because I just wasn’t sure how interested anyone would be, you know?  And honestly, did it even have a future?

So, anyway, while driving my child to the grocery store last night, I was listening to one of my old standby CD’s – and it’s not just old as in old music, but the CD itself is quite old – and had a bit of a flash of inspiration title-wise for this next part.  The CD in question is Pam Tills’ Greatest Hits and the song?  Mi Vida Loca (My Crazy Life).  I laughed and thought, “Wow, this is the perfect title for this second installment in the whole ‘sex pollen’ thing.”  And then, the funniest thing happened.  Last night, before I even started working on this WIP, I put together the beginnings of a playlist to help me along.  And for those of you who don’t know, I make playlists for everything I write… and should anyone ever get ahold of my iPod, they’d really wonder. 

But I digress…

This morning, I left the house on my way to work and the first song on the playlist was… Mi Vida Loca, of course!  Well, there I am, sitting at a stoplight, singing along and – holy crap – the lyrics just hit me and I start cackling.  And I mean laughing uncontrollably at how perfectly perfect this song is for these two boys!

I mean, seriously… this is the first verse:

If you're coming with me you need nerves of steel
'Cause I take corners on two wheels
It's a never-ending circus ride
The faint of heart need not apply

Right???  And this second verse is what I’m contemplating as far as they are concerned:

Sweetheart before this night is through
I could fall in love with you
Come dancing on the edge with me
Let my passion set you free

Is it love?  Is it the love potion?  Or, like another Pam Tillis song goes, “Maybe it was you maybe it was me, but it sure felt right…”  (Maybe it Was Memphis)

I guess we’ll have to wait and see.  And in case you care, here’s the rest of my playlist to date:

T&W (Travis & Wes because I refused to put ‘sex pollen’ on my iPod)

Mi Vida Loca (My Crazy Life) – Pam Tillis (see above)

Ten Thousand Angels – Mindy McCready – I love the idea of this song.  ‘I can fight all that I’m feeling, but I can’t do it alone… I need ten thousand angles to walk out the door’.  Again – accurate.

Shut up and Kiss Me – Mary Chapin Carpenter - I think this is self-explanatory.

I Feel Lucky – Mary Chapin Carpenter -  See previous song.  I just love her music.  Always fits where I need it to. 

Harder to Breathe – Maroon 5 – this song is what started the first installment, so I can’t help but include it here.  ‘When it’s cold out side and I got nobody to love… is anybody out there cause it’s getting harder and harder to breathe’.

Desperation – Miranda Lambert – one line says it all: Desperation, there’s danger in frustration.

Unskinny Bop – Poison – ever hear the story about why this song was written?  Let’s just say that CC DeVille, man-whore supreme – was caught in an um, precarious position…  Sound familiar?

Sexual Thing – Poison – Heh.  I think the title says it all, no?

Addicted – Saving Abel – ‘I’m so addicted to, all the things that you do…’  (Poor Wes, he’s in for a rude awakening by the end of this story, I think)

Call Me – Shinedown – ‘Call me a sinner, call me a saint, tell me it’s over I’ll still love you the same’ (and this is Travis’ song for this one, I think)

Stuck Like Glue – Sugarland – this is just a fun song and I think it fits them both so well.  I mean, they’re pretty much stuck like glue, aren’t they?

Felt Good on My Lips – Tim McGraw – Now, I chose this song mostly for it’s great groove, but it fits too.  Everything that happens in this song, the narrator is pretty much unsure of.  However, once he dives right in, it feels good on his lips so he’s okay with it.  I think that’s pretty much the entire theme of this story.  What say you?

So, if nothing else, it’s a fun tour through 90’s country music.  *snort*

Keep your eyes peeled, I hope to have the second part of this posted by this weekend with the third and final to be posted whenever I get around to it.