DISCLAIMER: D.E.B.S. and its characters are the property of Angela Robinson. No infringement intended.
SPOILERS: Take place immediately following the end of the feature film.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
FEEDBACK: To zipandliang[at]gmail.com
They drove through the night, sticking to side roads and navigating around major cities instead of through them. As dawn began to creep pink and purple across the horizon, the GPS flashed to direct them into a nondescript housing plan.
"Almost there," Lucy said, reaching across the seat for Amy's hand.
"Really?" Amy raised her eyebrows quizzically. "Here?"
"That's why it's called a safe house."
The street was named Clover Avenue and the house was a modest center hall Colonial with a for sale sign in the front. Lucy opened the double garage with a universal signal gadget that Amy recognized as Scud's handiwork. Lucy pulled the car inside and shut the door behind them. For the first time in hours, Amy took a deep breath.
Lucy leaned close to kiss her lover. "How about some sleep?"
Amy got out of the car, noticing for the first time the other vehicle parked in the garage, a gray, late model Honda Civic.
"Your chariot awaits," Lucy said, nodding at the car. "Features include a full tank of gas, well packed suitcases, and an impressive array of international passports."
"You think of everything. Sure you haven't done this before?"
"Fled the country with a runaway federal agent? Nope. This is a first."
Lucy tugged Amy's hand, leading her through the still-dark house, bringing them to a large empty bedroom at the end of a hallway.
"One sec," Lucy said, palming her way along a wall until her fingertips found the barely discernible notch that she was looking for under the built-in bookshelf. A wall slid away to reveal a fully stocked panic room.
"Primitive but workable." Lucy stepped inside and dropped onto the bed in the center of the room. "Coming?"
Amy crossed the threshold tentatively, looking around and above her.
"You're not claustrophobic, are you?" Lucy asked.
"No. I just I'm taking it in."
Lucy got up and moved close to Amy, rubbing her hands up and down her arms. "I know it's a lot at once. But everything's going to be okay."
"I'm not worried. A little overwhelmed, maybe. But you must be too. I'm not the only one who's basically ditched my life."
"It's a brand new start. How many people get to completely reinvent themselves?"
Lucy's eyes were bright with the possibilities, and Amy grinned at her. "Renting boats, huh?"
"Why not? Or giving sailing lessons. Or charter tours."
"You'll finally get to be a pirate."
Amy kissed her then, a sweet, slow, sensual connection that lasted more than a minute and left them both breathless. Finally, Lucy stepped away and found the corresponding button on the inside of the panic room, depressing it to slide the steel door back into place.
When the door shut, dim emergency lights automatically turned on, bathing the small room in soft glow.
"Mood lighting," Amy said, reaching for Lucy's arm and tugging her close. "You really do think of everything."
"Right now, I'm only thinking of one thing."
The bed was smaller than the one they'd shared at Lucy's place. Which meant less space between them when they stretched out side by side, on their backs, staring up at the ceiling.
"I still can't believe we're really doing this," Amy said.
"Regrets?" Lucy reached between them to take Amy's hand and give it a squeeze.
"That we didn't do it sooner." Amy turned on her side so she could see Lucy's face, bathed in low light. She traced a light fingertip along the side of Lucy's face, down her neck, across her collar bone. Then, as it she'd done it a million times before, she began to unbutton Lucy's shirt.
"What are you doing?" Lucy asked.
"Can't you tell?" Amy smirked.
"Well yeah. I think so."
"Do you want me to stop?" Amy asked, her hands stilling.
"No. I just We've never you know. And I thought you hadn't ever "
"I haven't. But I have a very good imagination."
Amy turned her attention back to Lucy's buttons, before slowly, reverently, peeling back the shirt to reveal the smooth, soft planes and curves of Lucy's body.
"Are you sure you want to?" Lucy asked.
"More than anything."
Amy was insistent but so incredibly gentle. And she was perhaps the most intuitive lover Lucy had ever been with, responding instantly to every sigh and shudder, knowing immediately when something was too much or not quite enough. Or, as in this moment, perfect.
Lucy arched her back, trying to get closer to Amy's mouth, Amy's full lips, as they encircled her left nipple, tugging and sucking, while Amy's fingers teased and caressed Lucy's right nipple. Amy increased the pressure and friction ever so slightly, prompting a sharp intake of breath from Lucy.
"Just just like that," Lucy sighed, swallowing hard as her eyes fluttered closed.
It had been such a long time since anyone touched her, and even longer, maybe never, since someone made her feel this way. As if she were about to explode into a million liquid Technicolor slivers. The ache for release was almost unbearable, but Lucy was determined to hold out as long as possible, to enjoy every single nuanced moment of Amy's attentions, before she allowed herself to tumble over into the oblivion of orgasm.
After several minutes that might have been hours, Lucy became aware of Amy's hand straying across her breast, down her side, and resting on her hip, before brushing lightly against her thigh. But then Amy's tongue was alternating between her breasts, and she was nipping and licking first one, then the other, and Lucy couldn't think any more. Her breathing was shallow now, each breath coming as a labored pant, as she coiled tighter and tighter. When she felt Amy's hand slip between her legs, she stopped breathing all together.
"Tell me what you want," Amy whispered, blonde hair falling loose and tickling Lucy's cheek, warm breath caressing Lucy's ear.
But before Lucy could form words, she felt Amy slide her fingers lower, between her folds, and being to trace slow, barely-there circles around her opening. Lucy groaned and raised her hips, desperate to draw Amy inside, to pull her deep and quell the throb that was now radiating throughout her body with every beat of her heart. But Amy stayed tantalizingly, impossibly, painfully out of reach.
"Tell me," Amy said again, tracing her tongue around the delicate shell of Lucy's ear.
Lucy squeezed her eyes so tightly shut that she could see spots. Her hips were thrusting now in a slow, steady rhythm all their own. She was floating in a state of ecstatic agony, tethered to her body, to earth, to reality, by Amy fingers as they circled so very close to what she needed, and didn't quite give it to her.
"Please," Lucy sighed, not caring that she was begging, not caring that she was helpless, completely unselfconscious in her vulnerability. "Please, Amy."
There was a pause, a nanosecond of silence and stillness. Then Lucy heard a barely discernible whimper from Amy, merely a suggestion of sound, followed by the most exquisite sensation of friction and fullness as Amy entered her, deep and slow and perfect, again and again. And all Lucy wanted, all she could fathom, was that she never wanted this feeling, this connection, this communion to end.
"Don't stop," Lucy whispered, unsure if she could be heard over the pounding of her heart. "Please don't stop."
But then Amy's lips were on her, and Amy's tongue was stroking, slowly, so slowly, drawing, luring, seducing Lucy incrementally closer to the edge. She hovered on the brink, completely and totally overwhelmed with sensation and emotion, until one last thrust, punctuated with a slight curl of fingertips, pushed Lucy beyond herself and into the abyss. Everything clenching and contracting at once, blindly reaching for Amy and clinging tightly so she wouldn't shatter, wouldn't disappear, wouldn't be lost in this.
"I've got you," Amy said, again and again, as she kissed Lucy's lips and eyes.
Lucy felt herself be gathered up in strong arms, and pressed close to Amy's solidness and safety. She felt Amy still buried deep inside of her as the pulsing and the tremors slowly receded, and she ground against her, riding out a last wave of sensation. When Lucy blinked open her eyes she saw Amy smiling at her, looking both pleased with herself and shy, and Lucy smiled back.
"Do you love me?" Amy asked, blue eyes shining with something Lucy wasn't sure she'd ever seen before.
"More than anything," Lucy replied.
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