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fredbassettFandom: Numb3rs
Characters: Don Eppes, Ian Edgerton
Rating: 18
Warning: None, we’re all adults, I hope
Summary: Don and Ian continue to stake out a gallery opening
Disclaimer: Not mine, no money made, don’t sue, no stoats or jellyfish were harmed in the making of this fic
Author’s Note: Sorry for the insanely long delay in this series. The previous parts can be found here. This story will get finished, honest!
“Post-Structuralism gone mad,” sniffed a woman dressed entirely in lime green.
It’s a fucking decomposing jellyfish.
“Another failed attempt to explore the boundaries of restraint,” agreed her companion, haughtily
It’s a fucking decomposing jellyfish in a goldfish bowl. And it smells.
Don thought wistfully back to the spray-painted stoat, hanging from the ear of the large woman he’d been listening to earlier. After another half hour spent in here, he’d probably be inclined to describe it as charming, even if it was dead. And if they were in
A light slap on his ass sent the butt-plug in deeper and drove a hot flush of embarrassment into his cheeks at the same time as an uncomfortable amount of blood reached an even more inconvenient part of his anatomy.
“Concentrate, Eppes!” Edgerton hissed into his ear, warm breath tickling along his hairline. “Which one of this lot isn’t acting normally?”
Amusement flickered in Don’s eyes. “Question’d make more sense the other way round, buddy,” the agent drawled.
Edgerton grinned.
Don Eppes shot a smoldering look around the room, causing anyone in his immediate vicinity to edge away, without even knowing they were doing it.
His partner’s hand caressed him lightly through the tight denim of his jeans and the sniper leaned in close to swirl a warm tongue lazily around his earlobe.
A shiver ran all the way down Don’s back and sheathed itself in his ass. Where it found itself in good company.
Maybe the games he’d been playing with Edgerton these past few months hadn’t been such a bright idea. Perhaps he ought to find a safer hobby. Shark fishing, or something.
Edgerton’s voice slipped into his ear like a honey-coated blade. “Stay in character, sweetie and don’t frighten the punters. In fact leave the punters to me. You go scope out the security. At least one of them, probably two, has to be a plant. Find ‘em and get ready to take ‘em down.”
Don Eppes pouted and swayed out of reach with an arch look.
Ian Edgerton plastered on his best insincere smile and caught Phoebe Masterton’s sharp blue eyes.
Ignoring the Eppes induced twitch in his own groin, he raised one eyebrow a fraction
The gallery owner flickered her eyes towards one of her guests.
Ian’s own erection subsided.
Much as he wanted to drag Don into the toilets and fuck him through the wall, they had work to do.
Continue?
Date: 2008-06-15 05:00 am (UTC)Re: Continue?
Date: 2008-06-15 09:02 am (UTC)