CARINA'S HAVEN

Fic: Stormy Remembrances, (CSI: Miami, Gen, FRT)

Sun, 20 Dec 2009 01:48:02 GMT

Title: Stormy Remembrances
Author: carinascott
Genre: Gen
Fandom: CSI: Miami
Rating: FRT
Word Count: 1,055
Summary: Eric remembers.
Author’s Note: Written a few years back, for a challenge over @ the MiamiFicTalk Yahoo Group.

~*~

Eric Delko sat alone in the dark confines of his living room; the power had gone out due to the thunderstorm raging outside. Three days ago Horatio Caine had sent him home on a paid leave of absence, citing concern for his well being as the reason behind his decision. More like a phone call from his mother. She had been hounding him to take some time off since the day he came back from Rio.

Two months ago he had lost his sister to a gunshot wound inflicted by Antonio Riaz. He might not have been the one to pull the trigger, but he had killed her just the same. After Riaz was killed, he and Horatio had returned to Miami. And Eric had been working almost nonstop since then. He couldn't face going home until he was too exhausted to think. Everything about his home reminded him of Marisol.

When he had first bought the condo a year ago, he hadn't thought about much in the way of decorating. To him his home was a classic bachelor's pad; colors and fabrics didn't matter. Marisol took one look at his home and that was the end of that. She bought drapes and pillows of beige and blue, telling him that his house was too sterile. Eric had laughed and said that it didn't matter to him; a house was for eating and sleeping. She had hit him on the arm and told him that if he ever wanted to get a woman to spend more than one night in his place, then he might want to let her decorate. Eric had caved in, although he stuck his tongue out at her for her comments about his relationships, or lack thereof. After two days and several stores, she was finally satisfied. Eric had never dared to tell her, but she had done a great job with his place; after her hard work his house felt like a real home.

Now, a year later, every time he returned home he felt like he was walking through an emotional minefield. Behind every pillow, drape, or plant was a trigger. He could be watching a game on TV, and his eyes would drift to a picture frame, and suddenly he would be on the verge of tears. Everything in his home reminded him of the sister he had lost. So in an act of self-preservation he had thrown himself into his work. And now, even that had been taken from him.

The first day of his leave he had been fine, Calleigh had taken pity on him, and he had spent most of his day at her apartment just hanging out. The next day he did the same thing, only this time it was Ryan that was playing devil's advocate. But now, on his third day of leave, it was raining cats and dogs outside, and he had no other recourse. He couldn't go to his parent's home, it was too hard to look in their eyes and see the pain that still existed there. He couldn't go to a bar to drown his sorrows because he knew Marisol wouldn't have approved if she were still alive. So the only other option was to go home and try not to think.

When he first got home, he was fine. He took a shower, ate a small dinner, grabbed a beer and turned on the TV. But he couldn't concentrate on the movie he had chosen, his mind constantly drifting back to a night not too long ago that he had spent with his sister. The day had been pretty gloomy, the sky was overcast, and it had been threatening to rain all day. Marisol had come by to spend the night, something that had become a monthly ritual since she was diagnosed with cancer. Initially Eric would stay with her throughout the night when she was too sick from chemo, but it had soon become a ritual of theirs even on those occasions were she was feeling better.

On that rainy night, after they had eaten dinner, the two were sitting in front of the television watching some movie that Marisol claimed she had been dying to see. They weren't paying attention to the movie, as they were too busy talking about things going on in their life and just basically catching up with each other. Eventually they both fell asleep on the couch, only to be awakened a few hours later by the clap of thunder. Eric could see that Marisol was shaking; she had always been terrified during thunderstorms. As children, Eric had teased her mercilessly because of it, but he had grown out of that habit long ago. So instead, he grabbed a blanket from the closet, sat next to her, and draped it across their laps. When the power went out, he put an arm around her and tried to soothe her by humming a lullaby that his mother used to sing to her when they were children. On nights like this it had been the only thing his mother could do to calm his sister down. Since the storm had just begun, Eric settled in for a long night.

But that was just a memory; he no longer had that privilege. Just like he couldn't tease his sister about her taste in movies or fuss at her about stealing his last spoon of ice cream; he couldn't comfort her in the midst of a storm. And he felt that he had no one else to blame. Marisol was his big sister, but he had always been protective of her. The one time she truly needed his protection, he had failed. And her death was the constant reminder of his failure.

Walking over to the window, Eric watched the rain fall in sheets onto the empty streets. Shivering in the coolness of the room, Eric wrapped his arms around himself trying to gain some warmth, barely holding on to his emotions. And as if it had been waiting for this opportunity, warmth he hadn't felt in too long wrapped around him, warming him to the core. As he slid to the floor, the constant tap of the rain outside his window transforming into the soothing hum of an ethereal lullaby; the tears finally came.

THE END

Fic: Hidden in the Dark, (CSI: Miami, Gen, FRM)

Sun, 20 Dec 2009 01:43:07 GMT

Hidden in the Dark
Author: carinascott
Rating: FRM
Classification: Gen
Content Warning: Mentions of child molestation.
Spoilers: Internal Affairs
Character: Maxine Valera
Challenge Word: #12, Broken
Summary: A horrible past provides strength for the present.
Disclaimer: I don't own, please don't sue.
Original Author’s Note: I am taking great liberties with Valera's past history, as we really know nothing about her. This is my take on what might have gone through Valera's mind as Nick accosted her in his home.
New Author’s Note: Written a few years back, for a challenge over @ the MiamiFicTalk Yahoo Group. Enjoy!

~*~

It's there, in his eyes. I'd sworn to myself long ago that I'd never be in a situation to see that look again, but here I am. In mere seconds I feel like I'm ten years old again, at my stepfather's mercy.

The room was semi dark, the glow of the moon providing an eerie light. I had the blankets bundled around me, tighter than necessary, but still I felt a chill. My mom had stopped by my door ten minutes ago to wish me good night. She was getting ready for her Friday night late shift at the local hospital. I hated when she worked late, but I knew she did it for me. Always said she was saving up for me to get into a great college.

Anyway, on these nights I found myself lying in wait. Like a lion on the prowl, searching for the perfect prey. Only thing is, I was the prey and my stepfather, Charles, was the tiger. My mother had married him two years ago, and in the beginning it was great. Charlie was the dad I'd always wanted. But a year into the marriage things began to change. I didn't notice it until my mother miscarried for the second time and the doctor's told her she wouldn't be able to have more children. It might have started before then, but suddenly Charlie was angry all the time, snapping at my mother, hitting her on occasion. But he never hit me. I was his princess, his little angel. He never hurt me.

At least not until after my tenth birthday. The first time he touched me, I felt weird, but I brushed it off. He'd had too much to drink, so I was sure it was an accident. By the time I realized it wasn't I was too afraid to say anything. Some of my fear was because I didn't think anyone would believe me, but mostly it was the threats he made against my mother. She was all I had; there was no way I was going to risk losing her.

So on the nights my mother went to work late, I lay in the darkness of my room, listening for signs that I might get a reprieve. But they never came. Like clockwork, I would hear soft footsteps on the hardwood floor, followed too quickly by the sound of a doorknob being turned. A soft light from the hall would drift into my room, and I would squeeze my eyes shut tightly, praying that he would leave me alone if I was asleep.

He didn't fall for it though. I'd hear the shuffle of clothing, the sound of a zipper, and then I'd fade away to my own world. With my eyes closed tightly, I'd strain to listen to the various noises outside my window. I'd learned long ago that he was rougher if I fought, so it was easier for me to just lie still and ignore him as best I could. I'd hold on to the sounds of the crickets chirping, the horn honking repeatedly down the street, or the rustle of the trees. I would imagine that I was a young adult, hanging out on the fire escape on these nights, just like the young couple that lived above us often did on Friday nights.

Afterwards, I would wrap the blankets around me once again, and cry quietly to myself, listening as the door closed behind him. Midway through the night, I would walk quietly down the hall to the bathroom. I'd shower in the scalding hot water, and dress in sweats and a t-shirt. Hair still wet, I would crawl back into my bed, pulling my knees to my chest. Rocking back and forth, I would sit like that until my mom came home from work. I never greeted her, she never knew I was awake on those nights, but I couldn't sleep until I knew she was in the house. Until I knew she was safe, that I was safe.

As I stood there against the wall, Nick trying to kiss me and convince me to stay, I knew I wasn't safe. The look in his eyes was the same look I had seen in my stepfather's eyes when I refused him. I was fourteen, and I had just miscarried. I didn't even know I was pregnant, but I knew who the father was. Vowing never to bring a child of his into the world, I stood up to him. He beat me that day, but I went to the police the next morning, when I was supposed to be in school. They called my mother from her job, and in an interrogation room, I finally told her the truth. To my great relief she believed me without question, and the officers arrested him that evening.

As soon as I said no, I knew Nick wasn't used to hearing it, that fact was evident in by the fury in his eyes, in his voice. With all the strength I could muster, I shoved him off of me. Even as I saw him fall, heard the sickening thud as his body hit the floor, I couldn't feel anything but relief. As I ran to my car, I held on to that feeling, knowing that it might not last. People like Nick and my stepfather, abusers; they don't like to lose. Their MO is to hurt and hurt until they break. Charles hadn't broken me, and neither would Nick.

If my past has taught me nothing else it taught me that I am strong. I may have my weak spots; I might not be the most perfect piece of china in the cabinet; but I'm still whole. I'm here, I'm alive, and I'm definitely not broken.

THE END

Fic: Life's Journey (Leverage, Gen, FRC)

Sun, 20 Dec 2009 01:28:23 GMT

Title: Life’s Journey
Author: carinascott
Genre: Gen
Fandom: Leverage
Summary: Life’s journey can have surprising results.
Written in response to a challenge over @WWOMB back on 05/01/09, just now realized that I never posted it here. Don’t write gen often, which is probably why I overlooked it.

~*~

Back when he was married to Maggie, Nate's world had been ordered, organized, and neat. He'd been satisfied with that. Both he and Maggie had slight leanings towards OCD, so it worked for them.

Then Sam had gotten sick. And while he and his wife had searched for treatments and researched every available option, his careful and ordered existence had become less so. He was too focused on saving the precious life of his only child to really care about putting the toothpaste in the right place or making sure to hang up his jacket.

After Sam's death, his life was knocked completely off its axis and he began to spiral out of control. The dissolution of his marriage hardly registered in the mass of misery and despair he was living in.

Teaming up with Alec, Eliot, Parker, and Sophie had given his life a little more structure. But not enough. He was still spinning out of control, only they'd stepped in to try to help give him some direction.

Looking back now, three months after the Davids job, still feeling the hum of satisfaction at seeing Blakpoole lose everything, Nate's world was still somewhat out of order. But it didn't bother him too much anymore. Sober for more than a month, he'd learned that order wasn't necessarily the key to a happier life.

Be it Alec's empty orange soda cans sitting on the conference room table, tripping over Sophie's shoes because she'd managed to somehow run out of closet space, explaining yet again to Parker that picking locks was not a replacement for knocking, or finally accepting the friendship that Eliot had offered long before Nate was deserving; Nathan was happy with his life. Somewhere along the way he'd traded his ordered, organized and neat existence for a messy, cluttered, chaotic life. And he was finding more and more with each passing day, that he actually liked it that way.

END

Fic: Raspberries and Coffee Beans (NCIS, Gibbs/Dinozzo, FRC)

Sun, 20 Dec 2009 00:51:48 GMT

Title: Raspberries and Coffee Beans
Author: carinascott
Genre: Slash
Fandom: NCIS
Pairing: Gibbs/Dinozzo
Author’s note: Just something I thought of after seeing this pic: http://images2.fanpop.com/image/photos/8800000/Mark-Harmon-and-Cote-de-Pablo-TVGuide-Photoshoot-ncis-8852350-450-368.jpg
Also, the recipes mentioned in this fic can be found here: http://allrecipes.com/Recipe/Lemon-Raspberry-Cake/Detail.aspx and here: http://allrecipes.com/Recipe/Chocolate-Espresso-Cookies/Detail.aspx

~*~

Tony frowned as he looked around the kitchen. "Where the hell..." he mumbled as he searched frantically for the bowl of raspberries he could've sworn he'd placed on the counter. Looking in the fridge once more, he sighed explosively before stalking over to the door leading down to the basement. "Jethro!"

Gibbs burst through the door moments later, gun at the ready, "Tony?! You okay?" he asked holstering his weapon when he saw no one else in the room.

"No I'm not! Where the hell is the bowl of raspberries I placed on the counter not ten minutes ago? Please don't tell me you ate them all." Gibbs had been sneaking into the kitchen all morning, stealing treats here and there, when Tony wasn't looking, but Tony knew he had a real soft spot for the little berries.

At least Gibbs had the wherewithal to look ashamed when he sighed, and nodded at his lover, "I'm sorry Tony. I couldn't help it."

Tony frowned, shaking his head. "I swear, if I didn't love you, you'd so get an earful right now."

Gibbs walked over to his lover, wrapping his arms around Tony's waist, nuzzling at his neck, "I could make it up to you."

"Yes, you could. And you will," Tony stepped out of Gibbs embrace, "by going to the grocery store."

"But Tony, you know that the stores are crazy on Christmas Eve!"

"You should've thought about that before you stole my berries. It's for Jackson's favorite cake, so I need the berries, Gibbs. I want to make a good impression on your father on our first Christmas together as family. Now go, before they've picked over all the good stuff."

"Oh, he gets an entire cake, and I get griped at for eating a bowl of raspberries," Gibbs grumbled as he bounded upstairs to get bundled up and ready to face the bitter cold outside.

Chuckling to himself, Tony turned back to the oven to check on his pumpkin pies. Five minutes later, he startled at the feel of strong arms around his waist. Turning in the embrace, Tony moaned as Gibbs took his mouth in a deep kiss.

"I'm sorry about the raspberries. I know you want everything to be perfect. I’m sure my Dad will love everything you’ve done, Tony."

Smiling, Tony shrugged, "I hope so. And you don’t have to apologize, I know you can't resist that sweet tooth of yours."

"Yeah, well I only get to really indulge once or twice a year. Anyway, I'm about to brave the masses, you need anything else while I'm out?"

Tony didn't even try to stop him when Gibbs leaned around him and grabbed a warm banana muffin off the cooling tray. "Yeah, just a few things. 2 bags of chocolate chips. And a bag of espresso beans. I checked the freezer, but we're nearly out."

Gibbs smiled, "Chocolate chips and espresso beans? Does that mean?"

Rolling his eyes, "Of course it does. You didn't think I'd go through all of this trouble making Jackson's favorite cake and not make your favorite cookies."

Laughing into the joyous kiss Gibbs gave him before he all but bounced out of the door, Tony couldn't help the warm and happy feeling that settled over him. As a child he'd never really looked forward to celebrating Christmas, knowing that his parents would spend most of the time arguing with each other and ignoring him. And he knew that after Kelly and Shannon died, Gibbs usually worked on the holiday, his only acknowledgement of the day in the gifts he dropped off to Abby, Ducky, and Mrs. Mallard. And even when they’d gotten together over two years ago, Christmas wasn’t really celebrated. They exchanged gifts and all that, and allowed Abby to drag them to her house for dinner, but that was it. They didn’t really participate in the holiday or the usual traditions.

But this year was different. With Jackson back in Gibbs’ life, and the two working hard to mend fences, Tony wanted this to feel like a real family Christmas. Gibbs had indulged him and didn’t complain once as he helped Tony decorate the house and put up lights outside. But he’d adamantly refused to help in the kitchen, save for cooking the turkey and ham, leaving everything to Tony. Tony hadn’t cooked so much at one time in his entire life, but he knew that his grandmother would be happy to know that all her lessons when he was a boy hadn’t been wasted.

Glancing around the kitchen, Tony knew there was nothing else he could do until Jethro returned from the store.

Pouring a mug of coffee, he retired to the living room, taking a seat in the overstuffed chair next to the roaring fireplace. Watching the lights on the Christmas tree flicker about, Tony sighed happily, humming Christmas carols softly as he awaited Gibbs’ return.

END

Fic: Paper, Rock, Scissors (CSI Miami, Ryan/Eric, FRAO)

Thu, 03 Dec 2009 05:26:41 GMT

Title: Paper, Rock, Scissors
Author: carinascott
Rating: FRAO
Genre: Slash
Fandom: CSI Miami
Pairing: Eric/Ryan
Summary: Ryan has a nightmare.
Warnings: crack!fic, smut, humor
Word Count: 844
Author's Note #1: This fic was originally written back in April 2007 as a response to someone’s post over at the CSI_Miami_Slash Yahoo Group. The poster pointed out that as a man, when reading slash, he finds it hard to stay in the story once scissoring is mentioned in the prep stage of sex. I didn’t understand that this would actually be painful for the man on the receiving end. And as I’d seen it used several times in fanfiction, I’d grown accustomed to using the term and practice in my own fic. After this post, I stopped doing that. But first, I wrote this fic as a kind of humorous take on it.
Author’s Note #2: I didn’t really receive much feedback to this fic when I originally posted to WWOMB, and because it wasn’t exactly my favorite fic (although very fun to write), a while back I took it down. Tonight I received an email from someone wondering what happened to the fic. So, I figured I’d put it back up here at least, even if I don’t post it anywhere else.

~*~

Eric moved in behind Ryan until his chest was against Ryan's back and Ryan was certain to feel the bulging erection encased in his jeans. Ryan moaned as Eric ran his hands across Ryan's bare torso, nibbling on his ear as those devilish hands moved further south.

Slowly, Eric unbuttoned and unzipped Ryan's jeans, the need to see Ryan completely bared before him growing ever more prominent with each passing moment.

Turning Ryan in his embrace abruptly, Eric pulled him closer, taking his lips in a passionate kiss. Ryan parted his lips eagerly, tongue darting out to explore the sweetness of Eric's mouth. Wrapping his arms around Eric's neck, Ryan carded his fingers through Eric's hair, thrilling at the shiver of arousal he felt run through his lover's body.

Ryan smiled slightly as he pulled back and nipped at Eric's kiss swollen lips. Unbuttoning Eric's shirt Ryan kissed each patch of skin as it was bared, dipping his tongue into Eric's navel, offering only a hint at what lay ahead.

Suddenly Eric pulled Ryan up, taking his mouth in a bruising yet sensual kiss, before pulling away breathless. With a gentle push, Ryan fell back on the bed, bouncing slightly.

Quickly discarding his remaining clothing, Eric climbed on the bed, closing in on Ryan with a feral grin. As soon as he was close enough, Ryan pulled Eric down until they were chest to chest, taking his mouth in a tongue tangling kiss.

Pulling back slightly, Eric looked down at Ryan, noting the eyes glazed over in lost, his lips swollen from their kisses, and his body as it all but screamed 'fuck me.'

Figuring it was the least he could do, Eric smiled and stretched until he could reach the nightstand. Rummaging through the drawer for a moment, he smiled in triumph as he found what he was looking for.

"Turn over baby," Eric ordered with a kiss, as Ryan happily complied.

Pouring a generous amount of lube on his fingers, Eric gently rubbed his coated fingers around his lover's entrance. Slowly he slid one finger in, moving them in and out until Ryan was loose enough that his body would allow another. By this time Ryan was moaning constantly, enjoy the blissful burn that was slowly leaning more towards bliss than anything else. He felt full as his lover added a second finger, but he relaxed knowing that he would soon feel a lot fuller, and he almost came in anticipation.

"What the fuck are you doing?!" Ryan yelled as he clamored up the bed away from his lover.

"Well, I thought that was obvious." Eric replied in confusion.

"Well, yeah. But I never felt *that *before!"

"You're too tense, Ry. Just come back over here, you know I always make you feel good."

Trusting his lover implicitly, Ryan moved back to his previous position. Feeling Eric settle in behind him once again, Ryan felt his cock begin to harden even more in anticipation. With a deep breath, he relaxed and waited for his lover to continue.

"OUCH!" Ryan screamed, this time climbing completely out of bed.

"What is your problem!?" Eric asked his lover, confusion warring with anger in those expressive eyes. His lover had never reacted like this before.

"I think I'm the one that should be asking *you* that Eric!"

Grabbing his discarded shirt off the bedroom floor, Eric wiped his hands as he glared at his lover, "Look Ry, if you didn't want to have sex tonight, you should've just said no!"

Fuming, Eric stalked out if the bedroom, in all his naked glory, and all Ryan heard was the reverberating slam of the bathroom door.

Realizing he had hurt Eric's feelings, something he hadn't intended, Ryan moved for the bedroom door

"SHIT!" he screamed as he promptly fell on the floor.

"Ry!" Eric came running out of the kitchen, dish towel still in hand, fear evident in his voice. "Ry, baby are you okay?"

Looking up from the living room floor, Ryan squinted in confusion, "How'd you get dressed so fast?"

"What are you talking about?" Eric asked Ryan as he helped him from the floor.

Ryan shook his head quickly as he looked around, "What time is it?"

"Almost seven. I was washing dishes until I heard you scream, you scared the shit outta me babe."

Realization dawning on him, Ryan smiled sheepishly, "I'm sorry. I think I was having a bad dream."

"Care to tell me what you were dreaming about that had you screaming like that?"

Eric nearly doubled over he was laughing so hard after Ryan had explained his dream, or rather his nightmare as it turned out.

"I told you Ry, eating and laying down gives you nightmares. Like I would even *dream* of doing that to you, no pun intended."

"Yeah right. Like I've always said, unless you're playing Paper, Rock, Scissors', to decide who gets to be top or bottom, one of my favorite games," Ryan said with a wink, "scissoring has no place in the bedroom."

"Ditto."

THE END

FIc: Taking Care of Reid

Thu, 03 Dec 2009 01:49:06 GMT

Title: Taking Care of Reid
Author: carinascott
Rating: FRT
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Genre: Slash
Pairing: Reid/Morgan
Summary: Reid realizes that maybe being independent is overrated.
Author’s Note: Answer to comment_fic prompt by amor_remanet

~*~

“Really, I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Derek, please stop fussing over me. I’m not a baby.”

“I know that, Pretty Boy. But I still like taking care of you, and with your busted leg you know it’s easier this way. Now hush up and let me do this.”

Spencer sighed and then nodded for Derek to continue. He really did love the way Derek took care of him, so effortlessly and without complaint, but he hated having to rely on anyone so completely. He’d been so independent for so long that it took a little while to get used to the fact that he was no longer on his own. No longer had to do things for himself.

Smiling as Derek finished arranging him on the couch, complete with a pillow for his leg, Spencer relaxed against his lover when Derek finally settled behind him.

They sat in comfortable silence, watching some old movie that Spencer was only half-paying attention to, before Spencer broke the silence. “I’m sorry, Derek.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“No. I love the way you take care of me, and I don’t mean to complain when you do. But sometimes it just gets hard to handle. I’m so used to being on my own.”

“It’s okay, Reid. I understand.” Derek shifted slightly on the couch, holding Reid a little tighter, snaking an arm around his lover’s waist and resting his hand on Reid’s stomach. “And honestly, I know I can get a little overprotective sometimes. I’ll try to ease up on that.”

Squeezing the hand resting on his stomach, Reid shook his head. “Don’t do that. I like it when you’re overprotective. Just know that sometimes I’ll get testy about it. Doesn’t mean I want you to stop.”

“You sure?”

“Yep. I’m sure.” Reid smiled when Derek kissed him on the side of the neck. “Now if you feel like helping me hobble to the bedroom, I can show you just how much I like it when you take care of me.”

“It would be my pleasure.” Derek leaned over to grab the remote off the table, before clicking off the TV. Standing up, Derek turned towards Reid, “So, should I carry you?”

“Don’t push it. I may love you, but I still have one good leg, and I know how to use it.”

Derek laughed as he helped his lover towards the bedroom.

END

Repost Fic: Unrequited Love

Sun, 29 Nov 2009 15:19:24 GMT

Title: Unrequited Love
Author: carinascott
Fandom: CSI
Genre: Slash
Pairing: Nick Stokes/Warrick Brown
Summary: Nick longs to hear three little words.
Spoilers: None, but is set in season 4 (if only in my mind)
Author's Note: Originally this fic was written back in March of 2006 in response to a challenge peja1956 issued on one of her Yahoo Grops. I recently revamped the story because it was so corny and every time I read it it made me cringe. Hopefully this doesn't sound conceited, but I feel I've grown a lot in the 3 1/2 yrs i've been writing fanfic, and this fic really proves it. I'm gonna leave the original up for comparison, but I really feel that the story reads a lot smoother and sounds better now than it did before. Let me know what you think. The original story can be found here: http://carinascott.livejournal.com/397.html#cutid1

~*~

Unrequited Love
By Carina Scott

Looking for evidence in a sewer is disgusting! Unfortunately, there ain’t always a rookie CSI around to do the digging, so tonight Warrick and I were forced to trawl through the sewer in hopes of finding evidence from our latest case. It wouldn’t be so bad if we had found something. Okay, it would be bad either way. But its worse because we came up empty.

I can’t suppress the shudder as something I refuse to think about slips down my back. God, I really need a shower! I look over at my companion, and from the set of his jaw and the quick stride of his steps towards the locker room, I know Warrick feels the same. I’m stripping almost before the locker room door closes behind us. Normally I would take this time to ogle Warrick in all his glory, but even that holds little appeal to me with the filth clinging to my body.

It isn’t until later, after we’ve showered and are pawing through our lockers for clean clothing, that I allow my eyes to drift over Warrick’s body. He’s already found a clean pair of jeans, which are riding low and unbuttoned on his hips. But he’s yet to find a shirt and I can’t help but look at the beautiful display of skin in front of me. The taught abs, nice pert nipples hardening further as the air conditioner kicks on.

I have to bite back a moan as I feel my arousal grow. This is so not the place for this! I repeat that to myself again and again, but still my eyes are drawn back to Warrick. He’s buttoning up his shirt now; long fingers deftly pushing button through buttonhole. I think of all the pleasure those fingers have given me over the last few months, and I once again find myself forcing those thoughts away.

I hear a soft chuckle and look up to see Warrick staring at me. He saunters over to me with a small smirk and whispers, "You want to do more than look?"

“What?” I reply, even though we both know I heard him perfectly well.

“You could touch.” He moves closer, “Or taste.”

Looking around quickly, I give in to the teasing demand, and plant a soft kiss on Warrick’s lips. “Dammit Rick, you are such a tease! But I plan to do a lot more than just looking when we get back to my place.” At that, I take the risk, and give Warrick a real kiss, one that leaves him breathless and panting. Stepping back, I ignore him completely as I put on my shirt and go back to work as if nothing happened.

I can’t help the smile that breaks free as I hear Warrick’s breathless voice cursing my name.

~*~

I hate not being able to sleep. It throws me off balance and makes me irritable too. But, these last weeks, I’ve gotten used to these semi-frequent bouts of insomnia. It started a few weeks a go when I finally admitted to myself that I had fallen in love with Warrick.

It probably wouldn’t be that big a deal if I knew how Warrick feels about me. I know he cares about me, and I know he’s attracted to me. Hell, we have sex like rabbits whenever we get the chance. He’s my best friend, has been for a while now, so I know he loves me.

But I don’t know if he is in love with me.

And that’s the problem. We’ve been together like this for about five months. Not a long time in the grand scheme of things, and definitely not long enough for me to be expecting declarations of love. But we’ve been friends a lot longer than we’ve been dating, and since I know how I feel about him, I don’t see how he can be so clueless about how he feels about me.

Or maybe he isn’t clueless. Maybe this is only a ‘friends with benefits’ thing for him. Maybe he he’s just biding his time until something better comes along.

No. It’s more than that. It has to be. Warrick would never lead me on like that. We’ve always been pretty up front with each other, if this were only about the sex he would’ve told me that a long time ago.

As I lay there, contemplating life and the pitfalls of love, I feel Warrick stir behind me. Turning over, I watch him as he slowly wakes and looks at me. He blinks at me for a minute, the cobwebs of sleep clearing with each passing second, before those beautiful green eyes really see me. And he smirks at me before leaning in to capture my lips in a soft, possessive kiss.

When he pulls back, I know I’m panting and I probably look slightly dazed, skin flushed with arousal. It’s been like that, for me at least, since our very first kiss.

“You’ve got that look again,” he says, his thumb rubbing small circles on my bare hip.

“What do you expect, when you kiss me like that?” I ask, smiling as his hand moves lower to caress my thigh. He knows how hot his touch makes me. I love the feel of his hands on my skin, the possessive way he maps my body, inside and out, with those long, dexterous fingers.

“You know I love you, right? I know I haven’t said it before, but it’s true. I love you Nick.”

The words are abrupt, seemingly out of no where. As if Warrick only just realized he hadn’t told me that he loves me. Maybe he hadn’t. I mean, I’ve known how I feel for him for weeks now, and I still haven’t said the words aloud.

Snuggling closer, I lean in to kiss him softly on his lips, pulling back with a whisper, “I love you too.”

And just like that, with me curled into his strong embrace, the truth of our feelings finally spoken aloud, I feel a peace settle over me and before I know it, I’m fast asleep.

The End

Fic: Past Pain (Alec/Eliot, FRM, Leverage)

Sun, 29 Nov 2009 00:44:20 GMT

Title: Past Pain
Author: carinascott
Genre: Slash
Rating: FRM
Fandom: Leverage
Pairing: Alec Hardison/Eliot Spencer
Spoilers: None
Author's Note: Another ficlet I didn't realize I hadn't posted. Enjoy!

Alec watched Eliot from across the room. It had been about two hours since Eliot had told the team about his past. Well, the past as it pertained to their current case.It had been like pulling teeth to get the story out. Alec understood completely. Eliot didn’t talk about himself under the best of circumstances, and these were anything but. The abuse he'd suffered at the hands of his stepfather was unimaginable; the guilt that he'd been living with since, staggering.
And now Eliot wasn’t talking. Hell, he had hardly moved since Sophie, Parker, and Nate had left about half an hour ago. Hardison didn’t know what to say or do to get the other man out of this lingering despair.
He wanted to let Eliot know that he didn’t care about Eliot’s past. Well, he cared; there was no way he could listen to what Eliot’s stepfather had done to him and not care. But it didn’t change the way he felt about Eliot. Nothing could.
Figuring the direct approach was best when it came to Eliot, Hardison walked across the room, taking a seat next to Eliot on the loveseat.
“El, I – shit, look I know you don’t like talkin’ about your past. I don’t really like talking about mine either. But still, I just want you to know that it doesn’t change how I feel about you.”
Eliot snorted derisively. “How could it not? Don’t bullshit me Alec. Why do you think I never tell anyone? They always say it doesn’t matter, but we both know that’s bull.”
Hardison watched as Eliot walked over to the window overlooking the city below. He stood and walked over to stand next to him. “So, you’re saying that you see me differently? Since I told you what happened to me.”
Eliot looked over at Alec quickly, shaking his head. “No, Alec. That’s different.”
Turning towards Eliot, Hardison shook his head. “No, it’s not. What we may have gone through was different, but at the end of the day it doesn’t really matter. I don’t look at you any differently, and you said you don’t see me as any less than who I am. Was that a lie?”
“No. That was no a lie, Alec. I meant it.”
“Then believe me when I say that nothing changes for me.”
Eliot stared at Alec for a few moments before smirking slightly. “I believe you.” Walking past Alec, in the direction of the kitchen, Eliot reached out and squeezed Alec’s hand in silent thanks. “You hungry?”
Alec smiled to no one in particular, thankful that the melancholy mood had lifted. Turning to follow his lover, Hardison's smile grew wider, “Sure. I could eat.”
END

Fic: Alone (Alec/Eliot, FRM, Leverage)

Sun, 29 Nov 2009 00:07:46 GMT

Title: Alone
Author: carinascott
Genre: Slash
Rating: FRM
Fandom: Leverage
Pairing: Alec Hardison/Eliot Spencer
Spoilers: None
Author's Note: I wrote this a long time ago, and I just now realized I'd never posted it. Takes place during season 1.

Alec looked up and froze.

He knew that grin.

Had fantasized about it for weeks before he’d finally acted on his desires.

Because of that he knew the wickedness that smirk signified.

He shivered.

“Whatcha doin’?” Eliot asked as he entered Alec’s office, sitting on the edge of his desk.

“Just surfing the net.” Alec swallowed, watching the denim of Eliot’s jeans stretch taut across thigh and groin as he sat down on his desk.

“Wanna do somethin’ else?”

“Wh-what you got in mind?”

Instead of answering, Eliot pushed back on Hardison’s shoulder, causing him to roll back in the desk chair just a bit. It gave him enough room to straddle the younger man’s lap.

“Eliot,” Hardison moaned as Eliot wiggled on his lap, tight ass rubbing against Alec’s growing erection. “What about the others?”

“What about them?” Eliot was too busy licking and biting at Alec’s neck to really get what Hardison was trying to say.

“What if they walk in on us?” Alec asked, panting harshly as Eliot continued to rub against him.

“They won’t.” Eliot replied, sitting back to take off his own shirt before he began unbuttoning Alec’s shirt.

“How do you know?”

“Nate and Sophie disappeared about an hour ago, and last I heard Parker was meeting Peggy for ice cream.”

“Ice cream?”

“Ice cream. Now, can we get back to what we were doing? Or am I own my own tonight.”

Alec smiled, pulling Eliot in for a deeper kiss this time. “Definitiely not on your own.”

“That’s what I thought.”

END

Repost Fic: High Flying

Sat, 28 Nov 2009 22:25:44 GMT

Title: High Flying
Author: carinascott
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Genre: Slash
Pairing: Morgan/Reid
Rating: FRAO
Summary: After a bad case, Spencer is inducted into the Mile High Club.
Author's note: Another fic I revamped over the last few days. There will likely be a few more in the coming weeks, though not for this fandom.

Morgan looked around at his teammates, noting the pained expressions and clear exhaustion written on everyone’s face. The drama and desecration from this last case had been beyond anything he'd seen so far in his career with the BAU. That in and of itself was an almost insurmountable feat. Or so he'd thought. But this last case managed to bypass even his low standards of the cruelty of humans towards one another.

The stink of death, decay, and horror steamed off of everyone. Most especially, it was taking a major effect on Reid. He'd been in an almost catatonic state when they'd discovered the bloodstained, twisted, and tortured remains of the three young girls, the unwitting targets of the unsub’s psychosis. It had almost required Morgan to physically pull him to get him away from the scene.

Derek had tried numerous things to get the haunted look out of Reid's eyes, but so far nothing had worked. Reid simply blinked and continued to stare into nothingness, and had it not been for the answers to his more pointed questions, those requiring more than a yes or no answer, Derek would've been taking Spencer to a hospital rather than the jet.

As it was, Reid had livened up somewhat after everyone had settled onto the plane. The normalcy of their routines seemed to have helped him calm down a bit, and he had pulled out of his stupor from before.

But that wasn't enough for Morgan. He could tell that Reid was still bothered, and he felt compelled, both as a friend and lover, to try to smooth away the frown lines creasing his beloved's forehead.

Looking around, Morgan noticed that other than Reid and himself, everyone was asleep.

Standing up, Morgan walked over to where Reid was sitting, taking the empty seat across from him. It took a few minutes before Reid would look at him, but Morgan knew it wasn't because he didn't notice him. They'd been through something like this before.

For whatever reason, Reid felt like he was being weak if he gave into his emotions, as if by allowing the horror of the cases they dealt with touch him meant he was somehow less of an Agent. Less of a man. Derek didn’t understand it, all of them had been affected by a case a rime or two in the past. But even so, Derek had been working with him, hoping to show to his young lover that the occasional vulnerability wasn’t a weakness, but a strength; showing that even with all the darkness they dealt with on a daily basis, he still had his humanity. It had required that he reveal more about his own emotional baggage than he'd intended, but knowing that it helped Reid, made those little revelations all the more bearable.

Realizing that even simple eye contact didn't mean his lover was going to speak, Derek decided that if the conversation was to be started, he'd have to be the one to do it.

"You look beat."

From the startled look Reid gave him, it was obvious he hadn't been expecting Derek to say that. But Derek had learned about three months into their year long relationship that asking Reid if he was okay only made him withdraw into himself even more. So he had to use a sneakier approach when it came to taking care of his occasionally skittish lover.

Shrugging a bit, Reid nervously fiddled with the hem of his sweater. "Kinda. But I can't fall asleep. Guess I'm still on an adrenaline high."

"I know. Lucky us, the only two on the plane that can't seem to fall asleep." Both men jumped, and then laughed at Rossi's sudden, and very loud, snore.

"If he keeps that up we won't be the only ones that can't sleep."

Nodding in agreement, Morgan looked away from Rossi and back at his lover. "You know, I have that CD you like so much. The one I bought you last month that's supposed to help you relax. You can borrow my headphones if you want. Maybe you can get some sleep, even if I can't."

"No, I'm fine. Besides, I don't want to take your music from you. I know it’s the only thing that can help you relax on a flight home."

"I can think of a few other things that can help me relax, and they have nothing to do with music."

"Really, like what?"

Almost smiling as his unwitting lover took the bait, Morgan bit back a smile. "You ever hear of the Mile High Club, Spencer?"
From the blush that colored Reid’s cheeks, it was obvious he had. "We can't! Someone would hear us." Spencer once again couldn't meet Derek's eyes, but this time Morgan didn't worry about it. It happened often when Spencer was embarrassed. Or aroused. And judging by the way he was squirming in his seat, it was obvious he was more the latter than the former.

"Not if you’re quiet." And with that, Morgan rose and strode to the restroom, only pausing to grab something from his overnight bag.

Derek was in the stall for about a minute when he heard the almost silent tap on the door.

Opening it quickly, Derek ushered Spencer in, thanking the heavens that his lover was so thin or it would've been a lot more cramped in the tiny space. Not that that would've stopped him.

"Derek, we shouldn’t be doing this. What if someone hears?"

Cutting off any further arguments, Derek pulled Spencer in for a deep kiss. He put all the love, lust, and passion he could into the kiss, hoping that Spencer could feel just how much he was cherished. Pulling back, noticing the dark lust radiating from Reid’s eyes, Derek knew his message had been well received. "Like I said before, if you're quiet no one will know what we are doing. Besides, we both need this, or we'll never get any sleep. And it’s a long flight home."

Obviously the argument worked, because this time Spencer was the one to lean in for the kiss, stealing Derek's breath away with the unbridled passion evident in the way he completely possessed Morgan’s mouth.

Grabbing Spencer's hips, Derek thrust his growing erection against Reid's own, swallowing the moan that came from Reid. "Shhh, we don't want to wake anyone up now do we?"

The answer was lost on a gasp as Derek cupped Spencer’s growing erection, feeling the heat of his need through the cotton fibers of his trousers. Giving another gentle squeeze, Derek smiled at the full body shudder his actions caused, before moving to unbuckle Reid’s belt.

Leaning in as he pulled the belt free, Derek nibbled at Reid's neck, loving the way Reid exposed his neck even more for him. Unzipping Reid's pants, he slipped his hands into Reid's boxers, grabbing his ass and pushing their groins together once again.

"So, baby boy, do you wanna ride me, or am I gonna get to ride you?" Licking his earlobe, Derek blew hot breath across the moist skin, relishing the soft moan he heard from Spencer.

"You. I want you inside me." Spencer panted, pupils blown, looking like sex incarnate: untamable, wanton, and so needy. Just the way Derek loved him.

Stepping back, Derek stripped quickly, before taking a seat on the closed toilet seat lid. Looking up at his lover, Morgan smiled wickedly, "So show me what ya got!"

Stripping as quickly as he could, Spencer straddled Derek's lap, before leaning in to capture his lips for a kiss once again. Breaking apart, Spencer looked at Derek, almost shyly as his long hair fell in his face. "Lube?"

Derek held up the lotion he'd snatched from his bag, "This is the best I can do."

Grabbing the lotion, Spencer coated his hands before reaching behind and beginning to prepare himself.

Derek had watched his lover do this several times before, and it never failed to turn him on even more. Watching the play of emotions across Reid's face was almost as pleasurable and erotic as the feel as Reid finally slid down onto his cock, not stopping until Derek was completely sheathed in his heat.

"Oh. My. Goodness," Derek panted, “You’re so tight Spence. So perfect." Derek bit back a moan as Spencer began to move. First Reid started off slow, almost a rocking motion, but after a few minutes he picked up the pace. Riding Derek's cock in the truest sense of the word.

Derek could feel that he was getting close, but Reid needed more. Grabbing his cock, Derek began to stroke Reid's cock in time to Reid's pace on his cock.

"Moo-moo-mooore! More, Derek, please."

Knowing what his lover needed, Derek reached up with his other hand, pulling and pinching Reid's nipples, knowing that sometimes, Reid need the extra pain stimuli to reach his climax.

Reid shuddered, and then Derek felt warmth coat his abs the same time as he felt the velvet muscles around his cock begin to contract, ripping his orgasm from him as well.

Panting, covered in a thin film of sweat, both Reid and Morgan stayed that way for a while, joined and completely sated, as their breathing evened out. Somewhat recovered from his orgasm, Derek startled when he felt Reid begin to shake.

"Spencer?"

"They were so tiny Derek," Spencer whispered into his chest, and Derek could feel the warmth from his tears, "They didn't deserve to suffer like that."

“Nobody does, Pretty Boy. Nobody does."

Holding his lover for a little while longer, allowing him time to compose himself, Derek finally pulled out of Reid. Moving to clean his lover, Derek kissed him slowly as he also cleaned the tears from his face.

Smiling at the care, Spencer kissed Derek softly on the lips once more, whispering "Thank you", before moving to put his clothes on.

Following suit, both men were dressed in no time.

Grabbing his lover before he could open the bathroom door, Derek pulled Spencer in for one final kiss, "Welcome to the Mile High Club, Spencer.” The ‘I love you”, went unspoken, but not unheard.

END

Repost Fic: Midnight Confessions

Sat, 28 Nov 2009 22:18:53 GMT

Title: Midnight Confessions
Author: carinascott
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Genre: Slash
Pairing: Morgan/Reid
Rating: FRAO
Spoilers: Profiler, Profiled
Summary: Morgan needs to talk, and Spencer is more than willing to listen.
Author's note: I wrote this fic over a year ago, but I reworked it over the last few days and changed a few of the scenes in the fic slightly. So, I thought I'd post the reworked fic. Also, this fic can be easily read as friendship, but when I wrote it I was intending it to be pre-slash.

Spencer Reid wakes with a start. Yawning widely, he looks around the dark room in search of what woke him. Just as he is about to doze of once more, he hears it again.

It sounds almost like a wounded animal…or maybe…someone crying?

Shaking his head, Reid almost laughs. He wasn’t crying, so that would only leave Morgan, his roommate for this trip, as the other option. Derek Morgan does not cry.

Or maybe he does, because Spencer can almost swear he hears the faint sounds of sobbing, being muffled by a pillow. Sitting up slowly, so as not to startle Derek in case he actually is the source, Spencer blinks rapidly trying to let his eyes adjust to the semi-darkness of the room. The thin stream of moonlight through the curtains provides just enough light too see around the room, even if not too clearly.

After a few moments, his eyes finally adjust and he looks over to the bed Derek is sleeping in. What he sees breaks his heart.
Morgan’s back is to him, so Spencer can’t really see much as far as his face goes. But he has been a profiler for far too long, and the knowledge of human behavior goes beyond the mind, and is very much in the way people move as well. Sometimes, posture can give away more than facial expression ever could.

Derek is definitely the source of the noises that woke him. His back is rigid, muscles taught and strained as he fights to hold the heart-wrenching sobs in. From where Spencer sits, it looks as if Derek is hugging a pillow tightly, face half buried in it. He is rocking, however slight, constantly, as if he can’t keep from moving.

Spencer is at a loss for what to do. He knows without a doubt what has brought this on. Their current case has brought them to New Orleans, in search of a serial pedophile that the locals have been unable to catch. They spent the entire day working on the case, and no real breaks had come through. Derek had taken it harder than everyone else had had, which is understandable, given his history. But Spencer hadn’t realized just how much the case had affected him. Is affecting him.

Or maybe he just doesn’t want to think about it.

Cursing himself for this selfish oversight, Spencer slides off the bed onto the empty floor between his and Derek’s bed. Crawling the short distance, he stops and looks at the strong man before him. Given Derek’s state, Spencer doesn’t think that standing over Morgan’s bed in the middle of the night is a very good idea.

Before he realizes what he’s doing, he reaches across the empty space and places a sleep-warmed hand on the cool, taught back of his friend.

He could kick himself for not thinking before acting as he watches Derek scramble away from him in horror, hearing the yelp of surprise and fear almost echo in the quiet room.

“Dammit Reid! Are you trying to give me a heart attack?!” Morgan yells as he wipes at his wet face.

“I’m so sorry, Derek! I didn’t mean to startle you,” Spencer stands up and sits back on his bed, rubbing his hands together as the stress of the situation seems to grow within him. He’s never been any good at things like this.

“You didn’t…well you did,” Derek concedes, “but its okay.”

The two men sit in silence for several long moments and Spencer tries to think of something to say as he ignores the stranglehold Derek seems to have on the pillow in his arms.

“I couldn’t sleep.”

Spencer is startled out of his thoughts at the weary and strangely unfamiliar voice that floats through the air from a man he’s grown so close to over the last year.

“Keep dreaming about Carl. All those boys after me. All the ones before.”

Spencer doesn’t say anything, doesn’t know what to say. Really, doesn’t think there is anything he can say to make things better. Hell, he’s not even sure that Derek realizes its him he’s talking to. Even so, he knows Derek probably needs to talk, needs a sounding board for whatever demons have plagued him this night. If nothing else, he can do that, be that for his friend. So he sits and listens to Derek as he purges his demons.

“The worst thing about the whole thing isn’t the abuse, it’s the guilt. The abuse is bad. Its worse than bad. But with time and distance, it’s possible to move past that. To bury the memories. I did it for a long time. But the guilt? Man, the guilt is always there. You can’t ignore it. You can’t bury it. It’s always there, casting a shadow on everything you do. Dirtying every happy moment with its filth.”

Spencer didn’t say anything, but he understood what Derek meant. He’d never been in Derek’s situation, but he understood plenty about guilt.

“What Carl did to me? I know I didn’t ask for it. Didn’t deserve it. But that doesn’t stop me from feeling guilty. Doesn’t take away the pain and disgust I feel when I think about all the boys that I could’ve saved if I’d just spoken up. Spoken out. But then – then I think about the boys that came before me. And I know there had to be some. I think about them and I hate them. With everything in me, I hate them. For not speaking up. For not telling someone. For not saving me. And how sick is that? How selfish can I be? Because I know that there’s someone, probably more than one someone, out there thinking and feeling the same way about me. Blaming me for my part in the abuse they suffered because I was too afraid to tell someone what was happening to me.”

“Then I think about Carl. And I hate him. I hate him more than words can express. But there’s this part of me, a small part, but it’s still there. There’s a piece of me that loves him. He filled a void in my life, Reid. I was empty, angry, and lost after my father died. When Carl came along, he started to fill that empty place in my heart and I know at some point in my life I truly did love him. Maybe that’s what makes it so unbearable. How do you love the person that molested you? How sick can I be for feeling that way?”

By this time, Spencer heart physically aches for the pain Derek is in, and he manfully wipes away the few stray tears that have managed to escape his control. It takes a few moments before he feels stable enough to speak, but before he does, he climbs off of his bead and goes to sit next to Derek, being sure to leave plenty of space between them so that Derek doesn’t feel crowded.

“Derek, there is nothing wrong with you. I hate Carl. I hate what he did to you, and I can’t understand everything you went through or everything you feel because of it. But I do understand this much. Carl wasn’t all bad. There were times when he was the father figure you needed and the friend you needed. He was there for you. That’s the part that you love. Your heart aches for the good you saw in him. But he wasn’t all good, and that’s where the guilt comes in. You can’t blame yourself for that; Carl owns that guilt; owns that demon. You didn’t ask for it, and you didn’t deserve it. You are not to blame. Maybe it took you longer than you liked, but there is a difference between you and the ones before you. You came back. You told the truth. You saved more boys than you can even imagine. And you put him away. Just like this guy that’s out there right now. We’ll catch him. You have to trust me on that.”

Spencer watches Derek’s face, and for a moment he wishes he could turn on a light so he can see him better. But he knows that will do more harm than good. Derek obviously needs the safety this cloak of darkness is providing, and Spencer will respect that.

They sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes, and Spencer sighs in relief as he watches Morgan place the pillow back at the head of the bed.

“I do, you know.”

“You do what?” Spencer asks, looking over at Morgan, voice almost a whisper.

“I do trust you.”

Spencer smiles in the darkness, his heart soaring at his friend’s words. “I’m happy to hear that. I trust you too.”

“I’m sleepy.”

Spencer almost laughs at the child-like bluntness with which Derek speaks, watching as Morgan yawns widely. “Yeah, me too.”

Spencer stands up to go to his own bed when he feels a hand on his shoulder. He turns to his side to find Derek standing there next to him. Before he can resist, not that he would, he feels strong arms around him as Derek pulls him into a hug.
“Thanks for letting me talk and really listening to what I was saying.”

Spencer watches as Derek climbs into bed, settling himself underneath the blankets.

“Yeah, sure…um, you’re welcome.” Spencer answers awkwardly, Derek’s gratitude throwing him a little off balance. Spencer climbs into his own bed and settles in to sleep. Looking across to the other bed, noticing that Derek no longer has his back turned to him, Spencer smiles.

Apparently Morgan no longer feels the need or desire to hide, at least not from Reid. This, more than anything, allows Spencer to slip into a deep and comfortable sleep.

THE END

Fic: Puppy Love

Sat, 28 Nov 2009 22:11:21 GMT

Title: Puppy Love
Author: carinascott
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Genre: Slash
Pairing: Morgan/Reid
Rating: FRC
Summary: Reid get's Morgan a gift.
Author's note: written for a prompt over at comment_fic

Morgan looks at his lover, noticing the way Reid fidgets slightly as he attempts to hold the wriggling bundle in his hands.

“You got me a puppy?”

“Yes. But if you don’t want him, I’ll keep him at my place until I find another owner.”

“Why?”

“Because, as you can see, I have no idea what to do with a puppy. And if this little guy was forced to live with me for more than a few days, I don’t think he’d make it. Haven’t you seen my fern?”

Smiling, Morgan shook his head. “That’s not what I meant. I mean, why did you buy me a puppy?”

“Oh.” Reid looked away, long hair partially hiding his face from view before he focused his eyes on the energetic puppy in his arms. “When I saw him, he reminded me of Clooney. I know nothing can replace Clooney, and I wouldn’t dream of trying to find a puppy that could. I know how much he meant to you, Derek. I do. But - well I thought, I hoped, that maybe raising this little guy would fill the void a bit. I hope its okay.”

Wondering, not for the first time, how he ended up with a man as wonderful as Spencer Reid, Derek smiles brightly at his lover. Gently taking the puppy from Spencer’s arms, he cradles the animal against his chest, petting the puppy softly. Leaning over, he places a lingering kiss on Reid’s lips. “It’s more than okay, Spencer. Thank you.”

Stepping back, Derek looks down at the puppy in his arms, “Hi there, little guy.”

Reid smiles as the puppy licks Derek’s face. Derek doesn’t seem to mind too much though, laughing loudly as he pets the dogs fur. He hasn't really laughed like that since before Clooney died.

Still focused on the puppy, Derek speaks softly to him, “So what should we name you, little buddy? Hmm?. How about Clooney Jr.? You look a bit like him, and you definitely have that same energy. But I think that’s too much of a name for a little dog like you. How about CJ?” The dog yips eagerly and licks Morgan on the nose. “CJ it is, then. Now let’s see about finding you a place to sleep. I think I still have a few things left over from Clooney’s puppy days.”

Reid watches his lover walk down the hall with his small charge, happy to see some of the shadows have left his lover’s eyes. Clooney had been a big part of Derek’s life for many years, and until Reid came along, the dog had been Morgan’s only constant companion. Spencer knew nothing and no one could replace Clooney. But maybe CJ could help heal some of the pain that still lingered since Clooney's passing.

Whistling softly to himself, Reid followed Derek and CJ down the hall.

And maybe he could help heal the rest.

END

Fic: Birtday Boy

Sat, 28 Nov 2009 22:09:01 GMT

Title: Bithday Boy
Author: carinascott
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Genre: Slash
Pairing: Morgan/Reid
Rating: FRAO
Summary: It's Reid's birthday.
Author's note: written for a prompt over at comment_fic . I swear, that place is so addictive.

Reid moaned as Morgan played with his nipples, biting down just shy of hard, before soothing the hard nub with the wet heat of his tongue.

He wanted to cry out and beg for more. But he couldn’t. The gag in his mouth prevented anything more intelligible than his constant moans, and the fact that his brain seemed to reside a little further south didn’t help matters either.

Arching into Morgan’s hand, Spencer watched with lust laden eyes as Derek straddled his hips before he slid down onto his hard cock. Straining against the cuffs that held his arms above his head, Spencer ached to touch his lover.

Stroking his own cock, Derek stared down at Spencer, moving slowly up and down on the rigid shaft in his ass. Moaning as Spencer’s cock rubbed firmly across his prostate, Derek slowed to a stop. Looking at Reid, he smiled wickedly “….and what does my Pretty Boy want for his birthday?”

Derek didn’t wait for an answer, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to hear it any way. Instead he planted his hands on Spencer’s chest and began to ride his lover’s cock in earnest. It wasn’t long before he felt his orgasm approaching. Not wanting to come before Reid did, Derek leaned in and licked at Spencer’s ear, before whispering “Come for me, baby.”

As if waiting for the command, Spencer’s body arched and Derek soon felt the heat of Reid’s seed fill his body. He held on to his control, just barely, wanting to make it the best he could for his lover. Riding the slowly softening cock, Derek smiled when Reid looked up at him with a completely dopey grin. Well, he assumed it was a grin. The gag kinda made it hard to tell.

Removing the gag from Spencer’s mouth, Derek leaned in to kiss him. “So, have you gotten everything you wanted for your birthday, Pretty Boy?”

Moving his head to claim Derek’s mouth in another kiss, Spencer finally pulled back and answered, “Almost.”

“Just almost?”

“Uh huh. I want to taste you.”

Reaching down to squeeze his cock, nearly coming from the image Reid’s words created, Derek cocked a brow, “Is that so?”

“It is.”

Smiling, Derek allowed Reid’s cock to slip from his ass before moving to straddle Reid’s face. Reid opened his mouth immediately, taking in the dark, rigid shaft. Derek moaned, hips moving of their own accord, setting a quick pace. He’d only discovered this kink of Reid’s a few weeks ago, but they’d certainly put it to good use since. Gripping the headboard, Derek thrust harder before his orgasm ripped through him and he was spilling all he had down his lover’s throat.

Minutes later, slightly recovered from the force of his orgasm, Derek climbed off the bed. Grabbing a few tissues from the box on the nightstand, he quickly cleaned them both before grabbing the keys to un-cuff his lover. Climbing back into bed, Derek snuggled up behind his lover, placing a soft kiss to his shoulder. “So Pretty Boy, did you enjoy your birthday?”

Pulling Derek’s arm around him just a bit tighter, Spencer smiled and nodded. “Oh yeah. Best day ever.”

It wasn’t long before Derek heard Spencer’s soft snores. Reaching over to the nightstand to turn the lamp off, Derek pulled the blankets more tightly around them. Squeezing his lover once more, Derek closed his eyes, following his lover into a sound sleep with a final whisper, “Happy Birthday, Spencer.”

END

Fic: Forgive and Forget (Leverage, Alec/Eliot, FRAO)

Tue, 27 Oct 2009 05:05:47 GMT

Title: Forgive and Forget
Author: carinascott
Fandom: Leverage
Genre: Slash
Rating: FRM
Pairing: Alec/Eliot
Summary: A prank leads to unexpected results.
Prompt: Leverage, Eliot/Nate or Hardison, After Nate or Hardison trigger a bad flashback and Eliot reacts violently.
Authors Note: Written in response to moonchildfic 's prompt over at comment_fic

When he thinks back, he knows it was a bad idea. But at the time he couldn't resist.

For months he'd tried. But everytime he thought he had it, Eliot would turn, flash a shit-eating grin, and shake his head.

But that didn't deter him. Hardison was determined to catch Eliot unaware. He didn't know where the obsession came from, but for some reason he just wanted to sneak up on Eliot. Maybe just to prove to himself, and Eliot, that he could.

Why this day was different from all the rest, Alec will never know. Maybe Eliot was so focused on chopping the vegetables for his morning omelet that he didn't notice Alec sneaking up on him. Maybe his mind was a million miles away wondering if Sophie was coming back, something that had been on all their minds constantly since Tara arrived. Maybe it was none of those things.

The one thing Alec was certain of is that it was one of the most frightening moments of his life.

Because none of the scenarios that had played out in Hardison's head ended with him pinned against the stove, knife blade to his throat, Eliot's eyes wild and unfocused as he pressed just hard enough to cause Alec to bleed. However, as scared as he was, nothing scared him more than the look in Eliot's eyes, the terse apology, and subsequent disappearing act that occured once Eliot realized what he'd done.

Yeah, when he thinks back, it wasn't his brightest idea.

But following Eliot home, barging into his apartment, and kissing him until he was breathless? Allowing Eliot to map his body with his hands, soothing him with lips and tongue when Eliot's shaking hand ghosted over the small cut on Alec's neck? Reassuring him that everything was okay with words of comfort and love as Eliot shook through his orgasm?

Well, that was definitely the most brilliant idea of all.

-END-

Fic: On the Road (NCIS:LA, Sam/Callen, FRT)

Tue, 27 Oct 2009 04:54:35 GMT

Title: On the Road
Author: carinascott
Fandom: NCIS: Los Angeles
Genre: slash
Pairing: Sam/Callen
Rating: FRT
Disclaimer: I don't own, but I'd love too. :)
Summary: Sam explains the merits of G getting that RV.
Prompt: NCIS: LA, Sam/Callen, roadtrip
Author's note: Written in response to scripps prompt over at comment_fic

"I'm telllin' you G. A RV is a great investment."

"I will not live in a trailer park!"

"I already told you that you don't have to. Plenty of places along the coast that you can park in and camp out at. And that's not the only perk, G."

"Yeah. What else?"

"You know that thing I did on our road trip to Atlanta?"

Knowing exactly what 'thing' Sam was referring to, namely his agile tongue, Callen shifted uncomfortably in the passenger seat before nodding, "Yeah, I remember."

"Do you remember why I stopped?"

"I just remember having a serious case of blue balls until the next rest stop."

"Yeah, well, I'm a big guy. I need room to manuever. As much as you love your car, an RV beats it hands down in the room department." Glancing over at G, Sam licked his lips suggestively.

Groaning as his arousal surged at the sight, Callen banged his head against the headrest. "Ok, ok. I'll think about the RV. But I swear if I get the damn thing, you'd better make it worth my while."

"Oh believe me, it'll definitely be worth it."

Sighing once more, Callen kept an eye out for the next rest stop.

-END-

Fic: Need (Gibbs/Dinozzo, NCIS, FRT)

Fri, 18 Sep 2009 04:10:55 GMT

Title: Need
Author: carinascott
Rating: FRT
Genre: Slash
Fandom:NCIS
Pairing: Gibbs/Dinozzo (established relationship)
Summary: Its a painful thing to realize the one you love no longer needs you.
Author's note: Answer to the Cuddlefic Challenge posted by taylorgibbs over at the NCISchat YahooGroup.

---

Gibbs sighed as he glanced over at the clock on the nightstand.

3:42 AM

He'd been lying awake for over an hour, his overactive mind preventing him from falling asleep and staying there.

But then again, it isn't everyday you realize that someone you love more than life no longer needs you.

He'd been with Tony off and on for five of the nine years they'd been working together. It had started out innocent enough. Just two guys blowing off steam when the need got too great and neither had anyone else to turn to. The relationship had gone on like that for a long while. And it worked for them. They didn't make any grand confessions of love or anything, but the intimacy they shared off the job, helped them work together seamlessly on the job.

That bomb, and Gibbs subsequent memory loss, had nearly ruined everything. But they'd worked through a lot after Gibbs' memory had returned, and the second half of their relationship was a lot more stable. They were no longer simply blowing off steam. They had talked a lot of things out, and in the end they'd mutually decided to give a real relationship a try. And things had been going great since then. Sure, they'd had their bumps and hiccups along the way; but their bond had never been stronger.

Still, Gibbs hadn't ever really considered the fact that Tony might not need him one day. His lover had grown over the years, there was no doubt about that. He still projected the frat boy persona on occasion, but everyone that knew him well, knew it was all an act. But other than that, Tony had definitely changed. They all had. But it was more profound for Tony. At least it was for Gibbs. Gone was the insecure attention-seeking kid he'd instinctively recruited for his team. In his place stood a calm, confident, and self assured man, tempered by the pain of loss and strengthened by the renewed sense of self that one must gain in a job like theirs if they want to last.

Tony didn't need Gibbs the way he had before. He didn't turn to Gibbs for approval for every little thing. A compliment from Gibbs, while cherished and appreciated, wasn't going to make or break him. Hell, soon Tony would have his own little team of minions to mold and shape into fine agents.

Sighing again, Gibbs shook his head. That's what this was about. Director Vance had decided Tony needed his own team. Gibbs had wanted to balk at the idea of Tony not being on his team, but the lack of response and gleam of hope in Tony's eyes had stopped him. He knew then and there that he couldn't ask Tony to pass up a chance like this. Not again. This first time he hadn't been privy to the offer before it was declined; but this time he was. And he knew that Tony not only deserved this opportunity, he wanted it.

The rational part of him understood that Tony didn't want to leave him. But matters of the heart were hardly rational. And Gibbs couldn't help but feel like Tony having his own team would tear them apart. If Gibbs' was not longer Tony's Boss, maybe Tony would also realize that he didn't need Gibbs like he used to, if at all.

Looking down at the man curled up over his chest, fast asleep, Gibbs felt an unfamiliar pain swell in his chest. It had been a long time since he'd truly doubted his place in anyone's life, probably not since Shannon, and it most definitely wasn't a pleasant feeling.

Looking over at the clock once more, Gibbs saw it read 4:02 AM. 'Good thing we're off today' he thought with a deprecating smile.

"Y're thinkin' too loud."

Kissing Tony's forehead, Gibbs smiled at the blurry eyes looking up at him. "Sorry. Go back to sleep."

"Can't. Wha's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Liar." Gibbs watched as Tony sat up in the bed and reached to turn on the bedside lamp. "It's about the offer, isn't it."

Unable to lie with Tony staring at him, without the cover of darkness to hide his eyes, Gibbs shrugged.

"Jethro, talk to me. I thought you were okay with this."

Rubbing a hand over his face, Gibbs looked over at his lover again. Deciding he wasn't gonna lie about this, Gibbs took a deep breath, "I am okay with this Tony. You deserve your own team. I know Jen offered you a team when I was hurt, and I know you turned it down and why. I would never ask you to turn the chance down again."

"But?"

"There is no but, Tony."

"Yes there is. If me having my own team isn't the issue, and I know the location isn't the issue since we'll be working in the same building; something else is bothering you. 'Nothing' doesn't have you lying awake at 4:11 in the middle of the morning. So spill."

Knowing it was gonna sound stupid, and hating himself for it, Gibbs turned away from Tony, sitting on the side of the bed with his back facing his lover, "I don't like knowing you don't need me anymore. I mean, I've known it for a while now, but this whole team business just makes it more....I don't know. It just makes it MORE."

Gibbs startled slightly as he felt Tony slide in close behind him, arms going around his waist, head resting on his shoulder. "You're an idiot, you know."

"Yeah, I know. Still, that's the way I feel."

"I don't mean about that." Kissing the side of Gibbs' neck, smirking at the slight shudder of arousal that went through Gibbs' body, Tony continued, "How could you possibly think I don't need you Jethro? I love you. I couldn't do any of this without you."

Turning slightly, Gibbs kissed Tony softly on the lips, "Sure you could."

"No, I couldn't." Tony sighed, "Look, when Jenny offered me that job I knew I couldn't take it. I used the whole explosion and amnesia thing as a good cover, but the truth is I was scared shitless. I knew I couldn't do the job without you there with me. Okay, not true. I could do the job, but not to the best of my abilities. Maybe I don't turn to you for advice and all as much as I used to. That's because you've taught me to rely on my own instincts and to go with my gut. But I, me, Anthony Dinozzo; we all need you, Gibbs. The real you. The one that no one else gets to see. The man who sings old Beatles tunes in the shower, off-key I might add. The man who helped little Billy Fuentes build a tree-house six years ago, and still takes him camping at least twice a year. The man who wouldn't give up on me, and wouldn't let me give up on myself, when I lay dying from the Plague. Jethro, I love you more than I can express, even if I had Ducky's way with words. And whatever the future holds, with NCIS or without, I will always need you. Got it?"

Smiling, that rare smile that Tony loved so much, Gibbs shook his head. "Got it."

"Good. Now come back to bed." Tony moved to his side of the bed, and turned off the bedside lamp.

Settling against the pillows, Gibbs rolled his eyes as Tony curled up over him, resting his head on his chest. "You know Tony, sometimes I think you only want me because you're too cheap to buy a body pillow."

"Damn right. Could never get those things fluffed the way I want them. Now hush, pillows don't talk."

Smiling, Gibbs did as told, and soon was snoring softly right along with Tony.

END

3 Gibbs/Dinozzo Ficlets (NCIS)

Tue, 08 Sep 2009 05:52:48 GMT

So I was scanning the lonely and unclaimed prompts over at the comment_fic , and since I really need to get more written for my NCIS fic yet find myself desperately battling writer's block, I thought I'd take a break and let my muse work on some of the prompts I found there. Surprisingly, I found 3 that struck my fancy, and the ficlets below are the results. Enjoy!

NCIS, Gibbs/DiNozzo, green with envy -- prompt by dinozzo111

“You’re growling.”

Gibbs looked up at a smirking Abby, “What?” he barked.

Leaning in, Abby whispered conspiratorially, “He’s a flirt Gibbs. You knew this when you two hooked up. It’s part of his charm. But if you keep growling, someone else is gonna hear it.”

“I don’t growl, Abbs.”

“Whatever you say Bossman!” Abbs replied, bouncing slightly as she walked towards the elevator to go back to her lab.

Putting the file down, Gibbs glanced back over at Tony’s desk. Frowning as he watched Tony smile widely at the blonde from Accounting that had been at his desk for the last 7 ½ minutes.

Not that he was counting.

Trashing the empty Styrofoam cup that had once held coffee, Gibbs stood and headed towards the break room.

Just as he was passing Tony’s desk, the blonde laughed and leaned in, pushing her ample chest directly into Tony’s line of sight. Growling even louder this time, Gibbs barked, “With me Dinozzo!”

He couldn’t help the thrill that went through him as Tony jumped to comply without even the slightest hesitation, “On your six Boss!”

Turning towards the elevator at the last second, knowing Tony was right behind him, Gibbs waited until the car had started to move before hitting the stop button.

“We get a case Boss? I didn’t hear a call come in.”

“I’m not surprised,” Gibbs growled as he stood very much in Tony’s personal space.

“Boss?” Tony swallowed, unable to control his body’s reaction to Gibbs in such close proximity.

Gibbs moved even closer, until Tony’s back was against the wall. Moving until his lips were close to Tony’s ear, warm breath ghosting over the sensitive skin, Gibbs whispered, “Flirt with whoever you want Tony. Just remember,” Gibbs palmed Dinozzo’s crotch, pleased with the straining bulge he found there, “I’m the only one who gets to touch.”

Nipping Tony’s ear before stepping back, Gibbs returned to his side of the car, pressing the button to restart the elevator. Listening as Tony took several shaky intakes of breath to control his libido, Gibbs couldn’t help smiling.

Today was shaping up to be a great day.

END

NCIS, Gibbs/DiNozzo, *you gonna tell the old bat next door to quit banging on the wall? If you don't, I will - and I'll do it naked!!* -- prompt by dinozzo111

Gibbs groaned as he heard the noise yet again. Placing a pillow over his head he tried to go back to sleep.

*Ten minutes later*

You have got to be kidding me! Sitting up in the bed, Gibbs turned on the bedside lamp before he looked over at Tony. Not caring at all that his lover seemed to be resting peacefully, Gibbs shoved him forcefully.

“Dinozzo! Wake your ass up!”

“What the hell Gibbs! I was sleeping!”

“Well, I wasn’t! Your damn neighbor has been making noise all fucking night! How can you possibly sleep through that?”

Tony rubbed at his eyes, shrugging his shoulder, “Guess I’m used to it. Look, she’ll quiet down in a bit.”

“Nope. Not gonna cut it Tony. She’s been at it for the last two hours! Either you tell that old bat next door to quit banging on the damn door or I’m gonna do it for you. And I’ll do it naked!”

Gibbs watched in shock as Tony smiled before collapsing in gales of laughter.

“What the hell is so funny Dinozzo?” Gibbs growled.

Breathing heavily, Tony tried to control his laughter. “Nothing. It’s just, I wouldn’t go over there naked if I were you.”

“Why? Maybe the excitement will give her a heart attack. Then I can get back to sleep.”

“Oh believe me. Mrs. Applebaum is getting plenty of excitement in her life,” Tony quipped, waggling his eyebrows.

Eyebrows rising to comical proportions, Gibbs asked incredulously, “You mean she’s…the banging, the noise…she’s having…..ewwwww! But she’s like ninety!”

“Eighty-four, and as she often says, she ain’t dead yet! Guess the old girl is gonna go out with a bang. There’s a pool going in the complex to see who will go first. Her or her boy toy Mr. Hansen. I’ve got my money on old Mr. Hansen; the guy must have the Viagra company on speed dial. They’re at it every other night. Damn rabbits I tell you!”

Tony frowned as he watched his lover get out of the bed. “Jethro, what the hell are you doing?”

Grabbing his discarded jeans off the floor, Gibbs pulled them on quickly. “There’s no way in hell I’m gonna get any sleep knowing old Mrs. Applebaum is banging the guy down the hall. It’s like listening to your parents have sex. I’m going home. You can come if you want.”

Laughing at the blush staining his lover’s cheeks, Tony got out of the bed to go in search of something to wear.

END

NCIS, Tony, borrowing Gibbs' dad when he needs to talk -- prompt by spae

“Gibbs residence.”

“Hi Jack. It’s Tony.”

“Tony! Great to hear from you son. How have you been?”

“Great. Good! I’m doing good.”

“Well, that’s a load of horse-pucky if I’ve ever heard it. What’s on your mind son? Has that boy of mine done something?”

Smiling, spirits lifting at the obvious concern, “No, Jethro is fine. We’re doing great.”

“Glad to hear it. You’re good for him. You keep him on his toes. He needs that.”

“I don’t know about that. But I’m glad you both seem to agree on that.”

“Yeah, one of the few things we can agree on, but a great reason to find common ground. So, what’s got you down, Tony? Bad day at work?”

“No. Just all around blue mood, I guess. I looked at the calendar a little while ago and I noticed that my mother’s birthday is a few days away. Jethro is at a conference, so he’s in meetings all day. I was feeling down a bit. And you always cheer me up, so I thought I’d call and let you regale me with tales from Gibbs’ childhood. Give me something to tease him about when he calls later tonight.”

“Well, that I can do my boy. Let me see here. Leroy was a impish tyke, so I have to think hard to come up with real doozies, as he was always doing something.”

“Yeah, I can see that.”

“Oh, here’s a good one! When Leroy was about 11, he was playing with his friends. Just some neighborhood kids. Anyway, they all loved those old westerns, like the Guns of Will Sonnett and Iron Horse. So they were playing and Leroy was the ‘bad guy’. Imagine that, huh? Anyway, for some reason they got it in their heads that the fences would be their ‘horses’. So apparently, Leroy was running and decided to jump on his horse like he’d seen on the tv. Remember they were using wooden fences for their horses. Suffice it to say, that was the end of their playtime that evening. And he was kinda swollen for a few days, and embarrassed for a lot longer.”

Tony, for the sake of his lover’s dignity, tried not to laugh. For about five seconds. Then he really let loose, unable to control himself at the image Jack had painted.

A few moments later, still chuckling slightly, Tony spoke to Jackson, “Poor Jethro. I can only imagine how bad that hurt.”

“Yeah, his mother gave him ice packs to help with the swelling. I don’t think he looked at her in the eye for the rest of the week without turning red.”

“I bet.”

“So, are you feeling better?”

Smiling in spite of himself, Tony nodded, “Yeah. Thank you. I really need a good laugh.”

“No problem son. So, you want to hear more? Got plenty more where that came from.”

Checking the clock on the nightstand next to the bed, Tony realized it would be a few hours still before he could call Gibbs. Shifting on the bed to get more comfortable, Tony leaned back against the headboard. “Sure Jack. I’d love to hear more.”

“Great! So, did I tell you about the time….”

END

Fic: Decisions (Leverage, Alec/Eliot, FRT)

Fri, 17 Jul 2009 08:23:07 GMT

Title: Decisions
Author: carinascott
Rating: FRT
Giftee: blazon_paradox
Pairing: Alec/Eliot
Summary: Eliot comes to a decision.
Disclaimer: I don’t own them.
Author's Note: Written/created for blazon_paradox over at the leveragexchange .

~*~

There was a reason Eliot had always worked alone. Well, there were several reasons. But the most important reason was that being a loner was safe.

Working with others, relying on other people to have your back, knowing that they relied on you; it wasn’t safe. Eventually people let you down. You turned around thinking they were there to stand up for you, with you, only to find that you were alone.

But even more than that, they made you vulnerable. Vulnerable in ways being alone could never do. They could be used against you. He knew this for a fact; he’d used that kind of leverage over others in the past.

And that’s why he knew he was making the right choice. The only reasonable option. The only safe way out.

He had to break it off with Hardison. There was no way around it.

Somewhere along the way, the quirky hacker had managed to get under Eliot’s skin. Into his heart. And now he was a liability.

It hadn’t happened yet, but Eliot knew it was only a matter of time. Someone would see how much Alec meant to him, and the young man would be in danger. A walking target.

Eliot couldn’t have that.

No, the only way to keep Alec safe was to break it off. If it meant they couldn’t work together, so be it. He’d walk away to keep Alec safe.

No matter how much it hurt.

Taking a deep breath, Eliot raised his hand to knock on the door. He only hoped he’d be able to walk away when this was over.

Alec watched Eliot through the security camera, watching as the man wrestled with himself. It was obvious that the decision he was contemplating was paining him. Just as obvious as it was that the man intended to follow through, no matter what.

And Alec knew what was causing so much conflict.

Eliot wanted to break up with him.

Alec knew it. And he also knew why.

If he were more of a romantic, he might even think the reason noble. But he wasn’t that much of a romantic, and this wasn’t a Harlequin novel.

And because of that, Alec was more annoyed and pissed than anything else.

He didn’t like being put in the position of the ‘damsel’. He didn’t need saving or protecting.

He’d been on his own for the vast majority of his life. He’d landed in foster care at an old enough age to remember the care and love he’d received from his parents, but young enough to recall the fear and loneliness that plagued him as he grew up in the system. The only real saving grace during those dark years had been Nana. She’d taught him that good still existed in the world. And even more, she’d impressed upon him that he actually deserved some of that goodness.

Eliot was a good man. He was as loyal as the day is long. And as much as he fought it, Eliot was a nurturer. He would die, and kill, for those that mattered to him.

Alec counted himself as lucky to be amongst those few.

There was no way in hell that he was gonna let Eliot’s fear push him away.

Because that’s what it came down to. Eliot was afraid. Terrified that his feelings for Alec would somehow make Hardison a walking target.

And maybe it would.

But that was a risk Alec was willing to take.

Watching as Eliot raised his hand to knock on the door; Alec stood and made his way down the hall. He only hoped he’d be able to convince Eliot that staying was his only option.

Eliot looked across the kitchen table at Alec, noticing the way the other man fiddled with the bottle of orange soda in his hand.

It was more than obvious that Hardison had picked up on the seriousness of this visit. But the other man didn’t seem inclined to bring it up first.

Eliot decided he’d have to make the first move.

Taking a deep breath, Eliot got straight to the point, “Hardison I can’t do this anymore. We can’t be together. I want to break up.”

Alec finally looked up at him, meeting his gaze with such intensity Eliot found himself looking away.

“No.”

Turning back, Eliot looked at the younger man, quirking a brow. “Excuse me?”

“I said no. I’m not letting you break up with me.”

“Wasn’t asking for permission, Hardison.”

“Doesn’t matter. The answer is still No.”

Sighing, Eliot stood up and began pacing back and forth. “Why do you have to make this harder than it has to be?”

“Because I love you, Eliot. And you love me. I know you do. That’s why you’re ready to bolt out the door.”

Eliot stopped and stared at Alec, “I don’t love you.”

Alec ignored the pain that flared at the cold words. “Yes you do. You just don’t want to admit it. That’s okay. We have time. But I do love you. And I’m not letting you walk away from me. From us.”

“Stop saying that, Alec! It’s over. We can’t be together.”

“Why?”

“What?”

“Give me one good reason why we can’t be together, and I’ll let you walk away without interference.”

“Fine.” Eliot retook his seat. “There are things in my past that you don’t know about, things I don’t like to talk about. I’ve done some stuff I’m not proud of, and there are people that want to hurt me because of that. They’ll use you to do that. I won’t have you hurt, or possibly killed, because of me.”

“That’s a pretty good reason.”

“I know. And I’m sorry, but this is how it has to be. We can’t be together.”

“Ok. Just answer me one thing, then I’ll let you go.”

“What is it?”

“If I were to die tomorrow, would it hurt any less simply because we aren’t together?”

Eliot stared at Alec a long time, the question hanging in the air between them, as his heart pounded rapidly in his chest.

He hadn’t though about that. Hadn’t ever contemplated Alec coming to harm, or possibly dying, from something completely unrelated to Eliot. And the truth was, no matter if it was tomorrow, or ten years down the road, he’d be devastated to lose Alec.

Noting the look on Eliot’s face, Alec reach across the table and grabbed Eliot’s hand. “That’s what I thought. Look Eliot, I care about you. Being with you was unexpected, but it has made me very happy. I knew that you were having issues with this. I even knew what those reasons were. And I was fully prepared to come in here and plead my case and demand that you stay. But I’m not gonna do that. If being with me is gonna cause you this much grief, then I’ll let you walk away.”

Alec stood and walked to the kitchen doorway. He’d been set to fight Eliot tooth and nail, but he couldn’t. If Eliot really wanted this, Alec wouldn’t stop him. But he couldn’t watch him leave either. “Please lock the door on the way out.”

Walking down the hall, Alec entered his bedroom, ignoring the instant message alerts coming from his laptop. Climbing into the bed, lying down on his side, Alec just stared off into space.

It was an indeterminable amount of time later that he felt the bed dip. Strong arms slid around his waist, and over his abdomen; the stubbly skin of Eliot’s cheek stinging slightly as it brushed against his.

There was a soft brush of lips to his temple, and a gravely whisper in his ear, “I’m sorry.”

Closing his eyes, and squeezing the hand that had found his, Alec smiled, “Don’t let it happen again.”

END

************************************************************
Also, here are a few icons and one banner in addition to the fic. Enjoy!

Fic: Boyfriend? (Leverage, Alec/Eliot, FRM)

Thu, 18 Jun 2009 11:26:03 GMT

Title: Boyfriend?
Author: carinascott
Fandom: Leverage
Pairing: Alec/Eliot
Rating: FRM (NC-17)
Summary: Eliot hated being confused more than anything.
Spoilers: None
Author’s Note: Just a quick little unbeta’d fic I wrote based on this article linked to by darkrosetiger about Chris Kane’s recent injury. Enjoy!

Eliot was confused.

And more than being pissed off or annoyed, he hated being confused.

Even worse, he hated being confused because someone else was pissed off and annoyed.

Especially when that someone was Alec Hardsion.

But obviously his confusion didn’t register to Hardison, because the younger man was too damned focused on being pissed and annoyed.

At him.

For getting hurt.

Accidentally.

Sure, it had been Eliot’s decision to fight the two assholes in the bar. But he’d been defending Hardison’s honor. And the prissy little shit was being all huffy about it instead of being grateful!

Okay, so maybe defending Hardison’s honor hadn’t been on Eliot’s mind when he’d head butted the asshole. Or when he’d broken said asshole’s wrist. And it was definitely the furthest thing from his mind when Mr. Asshole’s friend decided to join in and Eliot had broken his nose.

But even so, he’d been doing it with Alec in mind. Because Mr. Asshole had been flirting with his geek from the moment they got to the bar. Yes, his geek. And he hadn’t taken the hints that Alec had been giving him. He’d blatantly ignored it when Eliot had sat down right next to Alec, far too close for ‘just friends’. But when he’d decided to go for the full package, and Eliot meant that exactly the way it came across; Eliot had had enough.

Thinking back on it now, he realized he broke the wrist first. After all, he was definitely not gonna let the asshole grab his man’s crotch; drunk or not.

Sighing, Eliot got up off the couch and went over to where Alec was playing on the computer. Well, pretending to play on the computer. As far as Eliot could tell, Alec hadn’t moved anything on the screen in at least 15 minutes.

Leaning over his lover’s shoulder, Eliot looked at the screen, “So, whatcha ya doin’?”

“What does it look like?”

“Looks like you’re staring at a screen.”

Huffing, Alec folded his arms, “I’m playin’ a game. It just takes a bit to load.”

“You sure the computer’s not frozen? Screen hasn’t moved in a bit.”

“I’m sure. Are you done now?”

Realizing he was gonna have to try a different approach, Eliot smiled, letting his accent thicken, knowing how much Alec loved it. “No. I was wondrin’ if you was gonna come ta bed anytime soon.”

“Not tired.”

“Didn’t say anything about sleepin’ darlin’.” Eliot drawled, leaning in close letting his breath caress Alec’s ear. “And if ya come ta bed, I’ll definitely wear ya out.”

Eliot watched Alec’s Adam’s apple bob quickly as he swallowed. “No. I’m not tired and I’m not in the mood.”

Eliot faltered at that, completely unprepared for the rejection. Alec never said no to sex. Of any kind. Ever.

Standing up straight, Eliot backed up and turned Alec’s chair around to face him. “Alright Hardison, what’s up? You’ve been pissy since we got home over an hour ago.”

“What’s up? Hmm, let me think,” Eliot almost growled as Alec pretended to be giving it some real thought, “Oh, I know! My boyfriend just spent the last two hours in the emergency room getting 17 fuckin’ stitches for tryin’ to protect me. Like I’m some helpless bar maid incapable of defending himself! And then he shrugs it off like ain’t shit happened. What could possibly be bothering me?!”

Alec glared at Eliot for a long time, obviously waiting on a response. Getting none, he turned back to his computer, shutting it down quietly, before stalking down the hall towards the bedroom.

Coming out of his stupor, Eliot quickly followed Alec down the hall. “Hardison, wait. Hardison! Come on, Har-Alec. Talk to me. Are you really this pissed about me fighting some guys at a bar?”

“Yes, I’m pissed! I know you can take care of yourself, and I might not be the best fighter in the world, but I’ve been defending myself for a long damn time now. I don’t need a keeper. And I certainly don’t need my boyfriend getting hurt because of it. 17 stitches Eliot! You’re not fuckin’ Superman!”

Alec sat down heavily on the bed. He was still upset, but most of his initial anger and outrage had dissipated now that he’d actually voiced his fears. Because it was fear. He’d hardly glanced at the two guys Eliot had taken down, too busy concentrating on all the blood on Eliot’s face. The doctor had assured them that the injury wasn’t life threatening, and really looked a lot worse than it was. But that was little reassurance when the image of Eliot’s bloodstained face replayed constantly in his mind. The fact that Alec’s seeming inability to defend himself had been the root cause did not help.

Eliot scrubbed a hand over his face, walking over to the bed to sit next to Alec. “Look Hardison. Alec. It’s not that I don’t think you can take care of yourself. I know I give you shit about it, but I know you can handle your own. Hell, you were in foster care most of your childhood, I’m sure there were plenty of times you had to fend for yourself.”

“Yeah. Not after Nana though. Once people knew you were one of her kids, they tended to stay leave you alone.” Alec smiled at that warm memory, one of the few he’d had before Nana had become his foster mother.

“Well. That’s what I was doing. Kinda. I just wanted the guy to know that my boyfriend was off limits. And he wasn’t taking the subtle hints, ok? When I saw him reaching to grab your crotch, I saw red ok. I’m sorry if I embarrassed you or anything, but I ain’t apologizing for nothin’ I did to him or his friend.”

“El, I don’t think he was reachin’ for my -.”

Cutting him off, Eliot asked incredulously, “What the hell else could it have been?”

“I don’t know. I think he just lost his balance. One minute he was talking to me, he reached out for the peanut bowl. He seemed to lose his balance on the stool. Then you were in his face, and the rest is history.”

Eliot looked at Alec for a while, before smirking, “Oh well. Shouldn’t have been flirting with my boyfriend anyway. Still ain’t apologizin’.”

Alec glanced at Eliot, small smile playing about his lips.

“Whatcha grinnin’ at?”

“Boyfriend?”

“Huh?”

“You called me your boyfriend. Twice.”

“I did?” At Alec’s nod, Eliot shrugged, “Yeah, well. You said it first.”

“Did not!” Alec shoved Eliot away from him with a grin.

“Did so. When you were yelling at me for defendin’ your honor!” Eliot laughed as he pushed him back.

“Oh. Well, whatever.” Alec stood up and started to strip, “So, you still plan on wearin’ me out?”

Eager, Eliot stood and started getting rid of clothes as fast as he could. “Darlin’ I’ma wear you out, but you ain’t gon be sleepin’ for a long while yet.”

END

The Green Eyed Monster (Leverage, Alec/Eliot, FRM)

Tue, 09 Jun 2009 08:36:54 GMT

Title: The Green Eyed Monster
Author: carinascott
Genre: Slash
Fandom: Leverage
Rating:: FRM
Pairing: Alec/Eliot (Established Relationship)
Summary: "Eliot definitely had an anger management problem."
Spoilers: None
Author's note: This fic was written in response to a prompt by momotastic found here.

Eliot definitely had an anger management problem. He knew it. Accepted it. Embraced it even.

In his line of work it didn’t matter much if he got a little pissed now and then. Sometimes it made him better at his job. And of course, if his anger got the best of him, there was always a head available for the random pounding. And even more, they usually deserved it.

But now? Standing in the produce section of the local grocery store, he could feel his anger rising. Unfortunately, this wasn’t a random dirt bag that he’d relish pounding into the pavement. No, instead it was a buxom blonde that kept pushing her tits into Hardison’s face, flirting with him nonstop. And even worse, Alec was oblivious.

Eliot had never raised his hand to a woman, and he knew he never would. But Little Miss Tits was really trying his patience.

Grabbing a couple tomatoes and a few bell peppers, Eliot placed them in the shopping cart before turning towards Hardison.

“You ready? I’m done here.”

Smiling at the silicone queen, Hardison turned towards Eliot, quirking a brow at the undisguised annoyance in his lover’s eyes.

“Sure. We can hit the cereal aisle on the way to the front. Parker told me to get Cap ‘N Crunch.”

Eliot nodded, before pushing the cart between Alec and the bimbo that had been dogging them since they’d gotten to the produce section. Narrowly missing her foot, Eliot suppressed a grin at her yelp of alarm.

Wheeling the cart towards the breakfast aisle, Eliot searched for the type of cereal Parker requested, grabbing the box and putting it in the cart. Scanning the shelves, Eliot spotted the sugary Pop Tarts that Alec loved. Making sure they were strawberry, he grabbed two boxes and placed them in the cart before continuing down the aisle.

Glancing around, Eliot noticed that Alec was just now walking away from the blonde. Growling to himself, he pushed the cart to the front, mostly ignoring Alec as he joined him in line.

“El, you okay?”

“Peachy,” Eliot snapped, as he began placing the items on the counter so they could be checked out.

Alec, for once, wisely remained quiet.

---

“So…….do I get the silent treatment for the rest of the night. Or do you wanna tell me what’s crawled up your ass?” Alec asked. They’d retired to the living room after cleaning up the mess from dinner.

“Don’t know what you’re talkin’ about,” Eliot replied, taking a swig of his beer and flipping the channel.

“I’m talking about you nearly mauling a woman with a shopping cart. Or snapping my head off at the store for asking a simple question. Not to mention the fact that you barely spoke to me through dinner. So, as I said before, are you gonna tell me what the hell is wrong with you?”

“Ain’t nothin’ wrong with me. And I missed her by a mile.”

Alec rolled his eyes before turning his attention back to the TV. He really didn’t understand what was going on. Eliot never acted like this. Sure, he sometimes got quite and a little sullen, but that was usually after a job had gone wrong. Or, in most cases, when he’d managed to injure himself and didn’t want to admit he was in pain. This, however, was different.

Sighing, Hardison grabbed Eliot’s discarded beer bottle and disappeared into the kitchen.

----
Eliot jumped when he heard Hardison’s slight yell. Jumping up from the couch, Eliot rushed to the kitchen, only to find Alec holding his hand under the faucet. His bleeding hand.

“What the hell? What did you do?” Eliot asked, moving to the sink to inspect Hardison’s hand.

“Be careful, there’s glass on the floor.” Alec answered as he turned the faucet off. “I banged the damn beer bottle on the edge of the counter. It shattered and cut my hand.”

“Weren’t you paying attention? Dammit Hardison.” Reaching over to grab a few paper towels, Eliot grabbed Alec’s hand, “Here, let me look at it.”

Sighing, Alec let Eliot inspect his hand. Wincing, he watched as Eliot poked and prodded at the sluggishly bleeding hand. “Well?”

“It’s not too bad. Come on, I’ve got tweezers and bandages in the bathroom. Let me get the glass out and patch you up.”

Alec followed his lover down the hall, trying his best not to bleed on the carpet. Taking a seat on the toilet, Alec waited for Eliot to gather his supplies.

Grabbing the first aid kit from the cabinet, Eliot kneeled in front of Alec, taking his hand.

Alec was quiet as he watched Eliot remove the tiny pieces of glass, wincing occasionally when Eliot had to dig a bit for the tinier pieces.

“Shit!” Alec yelled as Eliot poured alcohol over the wound.

“Stop being such a baby, Hardison. You’ll live.”

“Baby my ass. That shit stings! Don’t you have, like, peroxide or somethin’?”

“Yes, I do. This works just as good. Be still.”

“If you’d used the peroxide I wouldn’t have moved!”

“Whatever.” Eliot finished cleaning the wound before applying the bandages. “There you go.”

“Thanks,” Alec mumbled, unable to feel too grateful as his hand throbbed.

Eliot nodded, standing to his feet and discarding the bloody paper towels and cotton balls. “It wasn’t too deep, but you’ll need to keep it as dry as possible so it doesn’t get infected.”

“Okay, doc. I’m gonna go clean up that glass.”

“I’ll do it. Just let me finish up in here.”

Alec looked at Eliot for a moment before nodding to himself and leaving the bathroom.

---
“Here.”

Alec was caught off guard as the foil package landed on his chest. “What’s this?”

“What does it look like?” Eliot replied as he settled next to Hardison on the couch, taking a swig of his beer.

“Pop Tarts? At 11pm?”

“You don’t want ‘em?” Eliot asked, leaning over to grab the remote off the coffee table.

“I didn’t say that,” Hardison replied, attempting to open the foil package.

“Give it here.” Taking the package from Alec, Eliot opened it easily, before handing it back.

“Thanks.”

“Yeah.”

The two men sat in a long, comfortable silence, the only sound coming from the television, Eliot’s intermittent swallows as he drank his beer, and the crinkling and crunching as Alec munched on his Pop Tarts.

“You know I wasn’t into her, right?”

Eliot glanced over at Hardison, quirking a brow.

“The blonde. At the grocery store. I wasn’t into her. Hell, I didn’t realize she was into me until she tried to give me her phone number. And once I realized it, I told her I wasn’t interested.”

Eliot didn’t respond. Not verbally anyway. Alec hadn’t really expected him to. His only acknowledgment was the slight smirk he couldn’t suppress and changing the channel to the latest rerun of Torchwood.

That was good enough for Alec.

END

Name Change!

Thu, 21 May 2009 16:20:02 GMT

So, for those of you wondering I DID change my LJ name. Nicknrick4eva is gone. I figured since everyone knows me on the net as Carina Scott, I should make it easier for my adoring fans (lol) to find me. Anyhow, jus thought I'd let you know.

-Carina

Fic: The Small Things (CSI - Warrick/Gil - FRT)

Sat, 28 Mar 2009 03:04:57 GMT

Title: The Small Things
Author: Carina Scott (nicknrick4eva )
Fandom: CSI
Genre: Slash
Rating: FRT-13
Pairings: Warrick/Gil
Summary: Gil notices and takes comfort in the little things.

~*~

There were few things Gil enjoyed more than the time he spent with his insects. And most of those things both began and ended with one Warrick Brown.

Be it watching old movies together on Sunday mornings, having a mini chess tournament on the rare day off together, or cooking dinner together, no matter how simple or elaborate the meal; Gil simply enjoyed being with Warrick.

But there was one thing he enjoyed above all else. And that was watching his lover sleep. More to the point, he cherished the rare moments when he was able to watch his lover fall asleep. Because, while it is a beautiful sight to see Warrick peaceful in his sleep, knowing he helped to get him there was more than words could describe.

Gil couldn't quite explain why he enjoyed it so; there were just too many reasons and none quite accurate enough. But it didn't matter, because Warrick understood. Somehow, he'd picked up on the need Gil had. And though the occasion was rare, as most of the time they all but collapsed on the bed when they arrived home, or where involved in more vigorous pursuits before drifting to sleep, Gil never had to ask for this gift.

And it was a gift, of that Gil had no doubt. On those nights, or mornings as the case more often was, Warrick would go through his usual routine in preparation for bed, as would Gil. He'd piddle around the bedroom, waiting for Gil to get into bed, and he would follow and arrange himself so that he was mostly draped over Gil, head resting over his heart. Gil would snuggle closer, arranging the blankets just so, and thread his hands through Warrick's hair.

He'd listen as Warrick's breathing evened out, smile as his lover's body relaxed completely against him, and watch as the small lines in his forehead smoothed out. It was usually then that he'd realize that he needed this. Knowing Warrick's history as he did, Gil knew this was the ultimate symbol of trust for the younger man.

A few months into their relationship, Warrick had confided in him about his uncle Darren, who had moved in a few months after Warrick's mother had passed, under the pretense of helping Grams out. Gil had feared the worst, thinking his lover had been assaulted by his uncle as a child. Warrick had assured him that he was wrong, told him that Uncle Darren had never touched him. But that was still a small comfort considering the small trace of fear that shone in Warrick's eyes as he recounted the story. Apparently Uncle Darren liked to watch. It didn't matter what he was doing, Warrick said his uncle always seemed to be watching him. And while it was uncomfortable, in his seven year old mind it had just been an odd quirk, so he'd paid it no mind. Until one night he woke to find his Uncle Darren in his room, just watching him. He'd asked his Uncle why he was in the bedroom, but he was told to go back to bed. According to Warrick, this became a nightly routine until he told his Grams about it and she kicked Darren out. But Warrick confided in Gil that since then, he'd never been able to sleep in the presence of others. Not deeply, anyhow.

So Gil knew that the level of comfort Warrick was showing him, falling asleep so deeply and easily in Gil's presence, was the ultimate assertion of trust that could be afforded to Gil, and he cherished it.

Kissing Warrick on the forehead, Gil snuggled closer to his lover, and allowed his mind to drift as sleep claimed him.

END

Fic: Hope Blooms (CSI - Warrick/Gil - FRT)

Sat, 28 Mar 2009 03:03:31 GMT

Title: Hope Blooms
Author: Carina Scott (nicknrick4eva )
Fandom: CSI
Genre: Slash
Rating: FRT
Pairings: Warrick/Gil
Summary: The culmination of a dream.

~*~

Standing before the open window watching the sunset over Vegas, Warrick shivered as the unexpected breeze caressed the skin of his bare shoulders and chest. Wrapping his arms around his chest for warmth, Warrick glanced back at the man sleeping in his bed.

This morning had been the culmination of so many dreams. For years, Warrick had longed to take his friendship with Gil Grissom to the next level, but he'd never dared approach the man. There were so many reasons that a relationship between them couldn't work, and Warrick had been afraid trying for more would do irreparable damage to a friendship he'd grown to treasure more than anything.

Sighing, Warrick turned away from the bed, watching as the last vestiges of sunlight faded away. For the first time in a long time, he was in doubt about where he stood. His heart was tied into everything they'd shared here today, and no matter how much he wanted to act indifferent, he couldn't. His heart was on the line here, and he knew that Gil held all the power.

He was so lost in thought that he startled at the feel of strong arms sliding around his waist. Melting into the embrace, Warrick tried to ignore the way his heart was racing.

"Those look like some pretty heavy thoughts," Gil whispered, his breath caressing Warrick's ear, causing him to shiver slightly.

"Not really, just watching the sunset." Warrick fudged the truth, but he wasn't ready to lose the magic just yet.

Gil didn't say anything; he just continued to embrace Warrick, kissing him intermittently on the neck. Warrick relished the attention, loving this rather sensual and caring side of Gil that he'd never witnessed before.

"You know, I know how everyone sees me. And for the most part they are right. I do shy away from people, hide my real emotions and all; and I'm terrible at relationships." Warrick's breath hitched at Gil's words, knowing that the inevitable was coming. "But, just because I'm bad at relationships, doesn't mean I don't desire one. As many disaster dates as I've had over the years, I'd have to either be searching for something or a sadist; and I'd hate to think I'm the latter."

Turning Warrick around so he was facing him, Gil looked up into Warrick's eyes, dropping the barriers within his own so Warrick could see the truth. "Warrick, I've been attracted to you for years, but I never acted on it because I thought you were straight. And even when I found out different, I figured there was no way that you could be interested. But after today, I figure that I have to put it all on the line. As much as I will always treasure what we've shared, no matter what happens from this point on, I would love for this to go further than one night. I'm not promising that I'll be any good at it, but I'd love to try to have a relationship with you. Whatever that entails."

There was hope blossoming in his heart, and Warrick was afraid of letting it truly take root. For as much as he had dreamed of this moment, as much as he'd longed for more, he never thought he'd actually have that possibility. But now, with his dream practically in his arms, Warrick couldn't, wouldn't, turn away.

"I care about you too Gil, and I've been attracted to you for years as well. And since you're willing, I'd love to give this a go. I'm not all that good at relationships myself, so you're not alone there. But if we promise to help each other along the way, I think we might be able to make it work."

Wrapping his arms around Warrick's neck, Gil grinned up at his lover, "I couldn't agree more."

And as the sun finally set, turning the page on yet another day, the two men kissed, opening a new chapter in their own lives.

END

Fic: Open Mouth, Insert Foot (CSI - Warrick/Gil - FRAO)

Sat, 28 Mar 2009 03:02:09 GMT

Title: Open Mouth, Insert Foot
Author: Carina Scott (nicknrick4eva )
Fandom: CSI
Genre: Slash
Rating: FRAO
Pairings: Warrick/Gil
Summary: Warrick does as the title suggests.

~*~

The moment he heard the knock on the door, he knew who it was. He had actually been expecting it an hour ago. Well, more like dreading it.

It wasn't that he didn't love Nick. He did. Nick was his best friend, closest thing he'd ever had to a brother. The thing was that whenever Nick did this, dropping by without calling first, it wasn't good.

Not for Warrick anyway. Because it meant Nick wanted to talk. And talk in this case was a euphemism for lecture. And it wasn't that Nick lectured him about things that he didn't need lecturing on, it was simply that Warrick didn't want to hear it. Because nine times out of ten it was about something that Warrick didn't really want to talk about, or something that wasn't any of Nick's business. Which was being unfair, because Nick was not a pushy guy; it wasn't his nature to pry into Warrick's business.

But he did feel the need to protect his friends, and he wasn't above giving a well-intentioned lecture, every now and then. Invariably leading Warrick to feel that he needed to talk as well. And in this case, talk was code for open up. And he hated opening up, because he was a guy and he naturally hesitated when it came to talking about his feelings. But more than that, he hated opening up because Nick had an unbeatable BS detector, so Warrick knew there was no way for him to lie or hedge the truth, and actually get away with it

Groaning, Warrick got off the couch and walked over to the front door. Opening it, he shook his head as he looked at Nick, who was smiling brightly and holding up a six pack of beer and a box of pizza.

"Was wondering when you'd show up."

"Would've been here sooner, but I figured you hadn't eaten, so I stopped to get some grub. And since you can't have pizza without beer..." Nick shrugged, "So, you gonna stand there all day, or are you gonna let me in?"

Taking the box of pizza, Warrick walked back over to the couch, leaving Nick standing in the doorway.

Closing the door behind him, Nick walked over to the couch, plopping down next to Warrick. "Guess that's about as close to an engraved invitation as I'm gonna get, huh?" Popping the top off one beer, he handed it to Warrick before opening his own and grabbing a slice of the pizza Warrick had already started on.

The two men had eaten most of the pizza and were on their second beers before either of them spoke.

"So, you gonna tell me what's going on or am I gonna have to work for it?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Warrick replied. He knew that he'd spill it eventually, but he wasn't gonna make it easy.

"I could have a few of the lab techs clue you in, but they're too afraid of having their heads bitten off to come near you. Mandy was cursing a blue streak about you when I was leaving today. You might want to send her some flowers, unless you want your results at the bottom of the list for the foreseeable future."

When Warrick didn't make a comment, Nick frowned and sat up, facing his friend. "Look Rick, we've been friends a long time. And I know that you don't really like to talk about personal shit if you can avoid it. I get that. And I try to respect it and let you work things out on your own. That usually works. But, this time is different for some reason, and I want to know why."

"Nick, just let it go. Please,"

"No, Rick. I can't. And it's not just because I care about you. I care about Grissom too. And whatever has been eating at you is affecting him. I've noticed the two of you haven't been spending too much time together these last few weeks. Hell, I think we've worked more cases together in the last two weeks than we have in the last two months. Not that I mind. But I know that since you and Gil began dating, whenever a case requires more than one CSI, he tries to partner up with you as often as possible. I'm sure Sara doesn't mind, though, since he's been working with her more this past month. But I want to know what the hell happened. Did you have an argument? Did you break up?"

"No, Nick we didn't break up. At least, I don't think we did." Warrick sighed as he placed his empty beer bottle on the coffee table.

"Okay, that's clear as mud. How about you tell me what you do know and we'll go from there."

Warrick was silent for a long while, trying to gather his thoughts, and Nick didn't interrupt since Warrick looked to be willing to talk to him about whatever was going on. Instead, he took the remaining beer and put it in the fridge and threw the empty pizza box in the trash. By the time he returned, he figured Warrick had worked through whatever he needed to and would be willing to talk.

He'd just retaken his seat when his friend spoke up.

"Nick, have you ever bottomed before?"

If he'd been drinking, Nick might've choked at the blunt question. "What?"

"Bottomed? You know, let another man-"

Nick held up his hand to stop the explanation, "I know what bottoming is Rick. I just didn't expect the question."

"Oh. So, have you?"

"Why are you asking?"

"Just answer the question Nick."

Running a hand through his hair, Nick stared at Warrick for a moment before nodding his head. "I have in the past. But only with guys I trust."

"So you and Greg never....?"

Blushing slightly, Nick smiled. "Greggo and I are taking it slow. We've known each other so long, and we've both had our fair share of terrible relationships, so we don't want to rush things. But, if you're asking if I would allow Greg to top me, then the answer is yes."

Frowning, and looking terribly confused, Warrick continued, "Didn't you feel...I don't know...like less of a man. I mean, putting yourself in the woman's role in your relationship, doesn't that make you feel weak?"

"Wow, that's pretty chauvinistic of you bro. Woman's role? You'd better not let Catherine hear you talking like that."

"Come on Nick, you know what I mean."

"Look Warrick, bottoming is not the same as being submissive. And being submissive is not bad either. But back on track, allowing your partner to penetrate you does not make you less of a man. It doesn't make you weaker either. Plenty of dominant men like to bottom. And there are plenty of more submissive men that like to top. Stereotypes come in all shapes and sizes Rick, you should know that. Topping or bottoming is all about preference; nothing more, nothing less." Nick watched the play of emotions across Warrick's face as he took in what he'd just said. "Is that the problem with you and Grissom? He wants you to bottom?"

"Yes, but it's more than that."

"Care to elaborate?" Nick asked when it didn't look like Warrick was gonna say anything more.

"Okay, so Gil and I were getting hot and heavy a few weeks ago. You know, kissing and touching, basically doing everything that leads up to sex. And so far I've always topped. I mean, it never occurred to me that he might want to top at some point. I thought you either topped or you bottomed, but I've never been with a guy that switches. Until now. And I want to please Gil, I really do. I love him, Nick. But, I can't see me bottoming. I just can't. And he got upset when I told him no."

Unable to understand why Gil would get upset at Warrick's preference, Nick pushed for a bit more info. "What exactly did you say to him?"

"He asked me if I'd ever bottomed and I told him no. I told him that I didn't really think I was the type of man to do something like that. He asked me what that was supposed to mean, and I told him that I was too manly to do something like that."

"Warrick! You didn't!"

"I know! I know. I didn't mean it like that, I swear. But the words were already out and I couldn't take them back. Gil wouldn't even look at me, Nick. He just grabbed his clothes, got dressed and left. He hasn't spoken to me about anything not related to work in almost a month."

"Can you blame him?"

"Nick, I didn't mean it."

"Are you sure about that Warrick? I mean honestly, think about what you've told me today. If you weren't my best friend I would probably deck you for some of the shit you've said. You basically said he was less than a man because he likes to bottom. How do you think that made him feel? Do you really see him like that?"

"No, Nick. Gil is one of the strongest men I know. He's always there for me when I need him. I wasn't trying to hurt him; I was just trying to explain to him why I don't want to bottom."

"And why is that? I mean, every man has his own preference, but don't you think you're putting the cart before the horse, Rick? How can you know that you'd be averse to bottoming when you've never really considered it? I love bottoming Warrick, love it. I've topped before, and I still like to on occasion. But for the most part, I like the feel of a cock up my ass. I know, I know. I'm being very blunt, but I want you to understand where I'm coming from. You've described being a bottom as being weak, almost like we're in a position of servitude or something. Do you know how many times I've driven a guy crazy just by riding his cock? Subtle moves that just make him go crazy. Haven't you ever heard the phrase `topping from the bottom'? Or take the more traditional role, with me on my back. Lying under him, watching his face as he tries to stave off his orgasm, and moving just right to make him come anyway. And nothing compares to the feeling of having someone pound your prostate over and over, until you can barely breathe from the pleasure, coming so hard you swear you see stars. I've fainted a few times, to be honest. Believe me Warrick, being a bottom can be just as powerful as being a top."

Warrick cleared his throat, shifting slightly in his seat as he considered Nick's words. "Okay. I get what you're saying. But how do I explain to Gil that I don't see him as less than a man. That I was simply scared and confused, and stuck my damn foot in my mouth?"

Nick laughed at the last of Warrick's questions, shaking his head as he looked at his friend. "Tell him what you just told me. Grissom will understand. Yes, I know, he was pissed when he left. And he had good reason to be. But he's had time to get some perspective on it. If you explain it to him, I know he'll understand. And if you really aren't into bottoming, I doubt it would be a deal breaker. But I really don't think you should knock it before you try. I mean, just think about Grissom's reactions when you guys have sex. And I don't want any images put in my head, but I'm pretty sure that if you thought he wasn't enjoying himself for a second, you wouldn't hesitate to stop. It's all about trust Warrick. Trust Gil to listen to what you have to say, and trust yourself enough to try something new. The worst that can happen is that you find out you really don't like it. But if you do, you've just opened your relationship up for so many sexual possibilities, some that you probably never imagined." Standing up, Nick stretched before walking over to the front door. Turning back to Warrick, who had followed him to the door, Nick placed a hand on his shoulder. "Call him Warrick. Tell him you're coming over. Pack a bag and grab your toothbrush. I know Gil is off tonight, and I'll trade my night off with you. Talk to him. Tell him what you told me. Trust him to take care of you. If you do all that, I know you two will be fine."

Warrick pulled Nick in for a quick hug before letting him go and stepping back. "Thanks Nick, you're a good friend."

"No, I'm a great friend. And because of that I'm also gonna stop off before work tonight and get a gift basket for Mandy so you aren't in the dog house. I'll leave the receipt in your locker." Nick replied with a wave, as he left his friend standing in the doorway.

Shaking his head, Warrick walked down the hall to call his lover, praying that he would answer. Smiling as he heard the sleepy voice he loved so much, Warrick grabbed his overnight bag from the closet. "Hey Gil. I was wondering if I could come over. I wanted to apologize in person for what I said, and I think I need to explain a few things as well."

It was a heavy silence as Warrick waited for Gil's answer. Smiling in triumph at Gil's hesitant `yes', Warrick barely resisted pumping his fist in the air. "Great. I'll see you in half an hour." Hanging up his phone, Warrick walked over to his dresser to grab some clothes.

Maybe opening up wasn't so bad after all.

END

Fic: Adorable (CSI - Warrick/Gil - FRT)

Sat, 28 Mar 2009 02:58:02 GMT

Title: Adorable
Author: Carina Scott (nicknrick4eva )
Fandom: CSI
Genre: Slash
Rating: FRT
Pairings: Warrick/Gil
Summary: Warrick and Gil unwind at the end of a long day.

~*~

Warrick smiled as he looked down at his lover. Gil had crashed almost as soon as they'd gotten home, exhaustion finally catching up with him after working for almost 48 hrs straight, with only catnaps in between. Warrick was exhausted too, but often it took him a while to unwind after a case like the one they'd just worked.

Luckily, with Gil asleep, he could partake in his favorite unwinding activity. Gil watching.

When Gil was awake, it was pretty hard to watch him without him noticing. Those sharp blue eyes would catch him every time, and as it was hard to put into words the reasons Warrick found it so appealing to watch his lover, he chose to only indulge in this particular pastime when Gil was oblivious.

Kneeling to remove Gil's shoes, Warrick then moved to arrange his lover more comfortably underneath the blankets. Satisfied that Gil would sleep soundly and comfortably, Warrick went about his own nightly routine, before sliding underneath the blankets next to Gil.

Sighing happily as Gil immediately snuggled against him, Warrick looked down at the face of the man he loved.

The frown lines that had appeared to deepen over the last two days had all but faded with Gil's slumber. The result made Gil look more like the man he'd fallen in love with over two years ago. Gil didn't exactly look younger, not really, but he did look happier. As if, for the time being at least, the weight of the world wasn't on his shoulders. And that was always a good thing in Warrick's book.

Gil snuffled in his sleep, mumbling incoherently before settling back against Warrick. Warrick couldn't help but snort at the absolutely adorable picture his lover presented. Adorable was not a word he would often use to describe Gil, at least no aloud; but it was very fitting for a lot of the things that Warrick loved about this man. Be it the petulant pout he wore when the alarm clock blared each day, the child-like glee whenever he discovered a new insect to add to his collection, or the mischievous twinkle in his eye when he was at his erotic best, Gil was adorable.

Taking a final look at his lover, Warrick reached over to turn the lamp off. Wrapping his arms securely around Gil, Warrick drifted into a deep and peaceful slumber.

END