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property of NBC and Dick Wolf.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
Reverie
By EponinesGhost
Tracey Kibre allowed herself very few indulgences. She preferred the no-frills approach to almost any situation and task. Less complications and fewer strings made for more efficient maneuvers. Travel light, keep moving, gather no moss ... all made perfect sense to her. They weren't called "trappings" without reason.
Chocolate. That didn't really count. It was more of a necessity. As was her hair stylist. Stefan and sweets were hardly luxuries ...
This on the other hand ... this was truly in the extravagant category. Every time she walked through the front door she counted her blessings that she could afford to treat herself to this little slice of heaven. Sure, her schedule was hectic, the hours were long and difficult, and the stress was often debilitating, but when she turned herself over to the staff at the spa and let them work their magic ... all of those negatives were erased. In the most wonderful way.
It was almost obscene how readily she transformed from a no-nonsense, workaholic civil servant into a pampered princess. Despite the satisfaction she derived from her job and its challenges, these day-long detours offered a tantalizing glimpse into a world of leisure and privilege. She tried to tell herself that if she were to be spoiled like this on a more regular basis, the entire enterprise would lose most of its luster ... become mundane, banal and routine. Sometimes she almost believed it. She knew that she would love nothing more than to find out ...
As she reclined rapturously after her final massage, the absolute stillness that surrounded her, the glorious silence, was music to her ears. At this moment no one needed or demanded anything from her. She was not required to follow any train of thought or argument, be alert for body language clues or signs of weakness. She was not hurried or rushed, not on her way or expected anywhere. No one was trying to get her attention or her signature or her opinion or her time. She was blissfully alone and unencumbered. And totally, thoroughly, completely, overwhelmingly ... relaxed.
It was during these rare stretches of utter peacefulness that Tracey permitted herself to freely fantasize about her deputy ADA. Maybe it was the overall sensuality of the spa experience, or the extraordinary sense of security she felt here in this environment, but she enjoyed these thoughts of Kelly to a greater degree than those she had anywhere else -- including her bedroom.
Simultaneously vivid and dreamlike, these visions always tempted and enthralled her, transported her on a different level ... the perfect enhancement of an already marvelous, decadent day. Without fail, whenever the soft knock at the door distracted her ... alerted her to the reality that threatened, the looming stroke of midnight ... she was extremely reluctant to return.
One of these days she was going to have to invite Kelly to join her. Literally. It was something she had considered for some time. The only thing holding her back was her own fear. Of both losing this personal piece of paradise she had carefully kept to herself and of finding the thrill of sharing it with someone already so intimately associated with it in her mind too addictive ... too dangerous ...
She paused mid-way through scheduling her next appointment, still flush with the invigorating results of her afternoon sabbatical. Briskly, before she could talk herself out of it, she instructed the hostess to pencil in a reservation for the full treatment in the double massage room.
After all, nothing ventured ...
The End