DISCLAIMER: Murder in Suburbia and its characters are the property of ITV. No infringement intended.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thanks to Ann for the beta.
Emma rolled over in bed and reached for the warm body sitting on the edge of the mattress. "Come back to bed," she mumbled, her voice thick with sleep. She and Kate had made love into the wee hours, years of pent-up frustration finally finding an outlet in sweat drenched ecstasy, that left them both trembling with exhaustion. "Ash?"
Without so much as a backward glance, Kate rose from the bed and began to search for her discarded clothing, her skin still tingling from Emma's attentions. "It's late," she said, her voice oddly flat. "We need to get to work." Her underwear clutched desperately in her hands, Kate made her way to the bathroom, studiously avoiding looking in Emma's direction.
A sigh escaped Emma's lips, and not bothering with clothing, she followed Kate to the bathroom. "I know you're freaking out," she called, her forehead resting against the door as she listened to the silence within. "You're probably sitting there, on the loo, going through your little lists and making a note of all the rules you've broken." Emma chuckled wryly, as she recalled one particular rule. "But at least I'm not a bad boy."
"This isn't funny, Scribbs," said Kate, her voice muffled. "You're a junior officer and I had no right to take advantage of your obvious infatuation."
"Infatuation?" Emma would have accepted 'crush' or even 'love', but infatuation sounded like she was some kind of mad stalker. "I fancied you; that's not the same as infatuation, and for your information, I'm old enough and ugly enough to look after myself, so don't go thinking you pushed me into anything." Intellectually, Emma knew she had to treat Kate with kid-gloves, but she couldn't just stand there, smelling of sex and shivering in the sudden cold, and listen to her new lover's deranged ramblings. "What happened last night, happened because we both wanted it, and have wanted it for a long time."
Kate opened the door a crack. "How long?" she asked, her eyes widening comically as she took in Emma's nude form. "For heaven's sake, Scribbs, put on some clothes!"
With a roll of her eyes Emma dismissed the subject of clothing and instead concentrated on Kate's question. "Since the beginning," she said truthfully. "At least, I fancied you right away, but I didn't realise I was in love with you until after Marcus."
"Marcus?" Kate hadn't seen or heard from him in over a year. "Why didn't you say anything?" She had her rules to hide behind, but Emma had never been slow in coming forward, especially if she really wanted something. "All those nights we spent drinking wine and moaning about our love lives and you never said a word?" It was unbelievable.
The door opened wider and Emma pushed her way into the room; she smiled widely at Kate's blush but was gratified to note that her new lover didn't let her embarrassment keep her from staring longingly at Emma's body. "I couldn't," she said, closing the door behind her. "You weren't ready." She took the clothes out of Kate's hands and stepped closer.
"Scribbs." The warning was clear but Kate did nothing to hinder Emma's approach. "We'll be late for work."
"Now," said Emma, her hands rising to lay flat against the wall on either side of Kate's head, "you are." She leaned forward, and with tantalising slowness, pressed a kiss against Kate's lips. "As for work," she added, a devilish gleam in her eyes, "we can call in sick."
Outrage flickered in Kate's eyes, but before she could quash that particular idea, Emma pulled her close and pressed their lips together in mounting desire. It was the kind of kiss, Kate had learnt the night before, that inevitably led to screams of passion and a total loss of inhibitions. "Scribbs," she sighed, the name almost lost beneath Emma's kisses. "Scribbs, wait."
A frustrated growl echoed around the bathroom as Emma took a step back and prepared for the second round in her fight against Kate's insecurities. "Are you still freaking out?"
"I don't freak out," said Kate, momentarily distracted by the slight against her character, before she quickly banished the notion to concentrate on the more immediate problem. "We can't do this here."
Emma was losing her patience. "Ash, we've already made love, so it's a bit late to get prudish." The idea of taking a step back, and doing things in the correct order, was very Kate, but Emma knew it would drive them both insane.
Grasping Emma's hand, Kate tugged her towards the bedroom. "You really need to learn how to listen," she admonished, using their joined hands to push Emma back onto the bed. "I said we couldn't do it in the bathroom." Kate knew some people found shower and bath sex appealing, but she had no intention of making love in the same room as a toilet; it just wasn't sanitary. "Now, hurry up and phone Sullivan, before I come to my senses and remember just how many rules you're breaking."
Emma opened her mouth to protest, but one look at Kate's nude form, looming over her, robbed her of speech, and she quickly reached for the telephone and blurted out the first lie to enter her head, "Morning, Boss, Ash and I won't be in today, we've caught the plague."
With a shake of her head and a mental note to employ damage control the next morning, Kate sunk down onto the bed and the willing body beneath her own. She knew, despite her protests, that she wasn't finished freaking out, but for the moment, she was content to accept the inevitable and give form to the love that had consumed them both for so long.
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