Title: About Damn Time
Author: Debb
Rating: NC-17
Show/Pairing: LOCI B/A
Synopsis: Bobby finally gets his date with Alex. Alex's POV. A sequel to "Boundaries" and "Decision".
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, don't sue me because I'm plagiarizing them.
Thanks go to Kara for the beta read, as usual.

Alex checked her appearance in the mirror again. Cream colored slip dress, black lace. Short, but classy. Maybe she was doing this wrong. Maybe she should go more sexy. She had this low cut little red number...

Okay. Breathe in, breathe out. She'd known this man for seven years. He was not a stranger. First date jitters were... silly. She checked her makeup one more time, then ran through the one bedroom apartment making sure everything was in its place.She'd finally told him he could take her out and he'd sweet-talked her into letting him cook her dinner in her apartment. She ruthlessly squashed visions of what else she could do with him here. Not on the first date. She wasn't that kind of girl. Or anyway, he didn't need to know she was. Well, okay, she'd talked to him about her sex life; he already knew, but she expected him to act like a gentleman anyway.

She felt like a teenager, wondering if he was a good kisser, if he was the kind of guy who tried to feel you up on the first date. He talked to her about his own sex life; she knew he could use that same intensity she saw in the interrogation room to overwhelm a woman. To give him credit, though, he'd never dumped a girl. He didn't have to. He just waited until she got tired of his job, his friends, his hobbies, his mother. His commitment issues. Well, not commitment, really, although she could see how a woman would think that. He just didn't intend to get married. Or have children, which was fine with her. She didn't need a husband, and she wasn't the mothering type.

A knock on the door pulled her out of her thoughts. She hurried to answer it, tugging on her shoes as she went. It wouldn't do for him to have to bend double to kiss her goodnight.

He stood in the hallway, weighed down with groceries, looking much the way he did at work. Suit, tie, shoes... everything but that brown notebook. He had roses, instead. A potted rose, specifically. She'd mentioned once that she didn't see how dying flowers were a symbol of anything romantic. Apparently he'd kept that in mind.

"Is that for me?" She asked, reaching for the plant.

He grinned at her. "Yes, it is. Hi."

"Hi. Thank you," she replied, taking the plant from him with something ridiculously like reverence. "Come in. It's beautiful," she added. He dropped the groceries in the kitchen and followed her into the living room.

"I'm glad you like it. You look stunning," he added, looking her over as she stretched to set the plant on the highest of the glass shelves near the window.

"Thank you." She headed back to the kitchen. "You're not so bad yourself. What's on the menu tonight?" She asked, hopping up on one of the barstools. She leaned forward across the counter, sort of hoping he'd look down her dress. What the hell, he'd brought her a rose plant and told her she was "stunning". Who was she kidding? She wouldn't complain if he dragged her into the bedroom right now.

"I thought I'd play it safe." He lined the ingredients up on the counter. "Chicken parmesan, breadsticks, salad. Pretty simple."

"I'm already hungry." He was looking down her dress. He wasn't the least bit ashamed of himself, either. When he finally looked up to see her expression, he just gave her an admiring grin.

She straightened up, crossing her legs primly. He'd had his look, and she had appearances to keep up. They talked for awhile about her family, his hobbies, the weather. Steering clear of sensitive subects like work and his family. As much as possible, anyway. She fixed the salad, he put the breadsticks in the oven. He'd gotten sauce on his tie; she'd taken his jacket and tossed it on the chair in the living room. It was all very... domestic. She could get used to it.

He said something right behind her and she jumped. "Sorry. Lost in my own little world. What?" She turned around to find him right behind her, so close she could smell his skin, feel his breath against her skin.

"I need a mixing bowl. For the dessert." he repeated, stepping close enough that his body just brushed against hers, looking down at her. Shit. Nevermind the bed, just fuck me right here on the floor.

She knew she hadn't said that out loud, but he seemed to have gotten the idea anyway. He leaned in closer, breathing against her neck, and placed his hands carefully against her belly. He explored her waist delicately, gaze locked with hers, making her skin tingle.

He lifted her onto the counter, stepping forward, pulling her toward him and sliding a hand up her skirt, over her bare thighs, spreading her legs. She wrapped herself around him as he slid her dress off over her head, tangling her fingers in his hair as he kissed her shoulders, neck, mouth, reaching around to unhook her bra. He gently nibbled her bare breasts, stroking her back and she moaned, arching against his touch, dragging his mouth up to hers, pushing her tongue against his. She fumbled with his shirt, popping one of the buttons, pushing it off quickly and dragging his t-shirt over his head. She heard the oven timer go off behind him and ignored it, working his belt loose as he came in to kiss her again. His pager went off under her hand and she ignored that, too, pushing his pants down. He kicked them off, lifting her, sliding his hands into her panties. She braced herself against the counter long enough for him to work them free, then grabbed his cock, stroking him as he stepped forward, locking his mouth with hers.

He guided himself into her slowly, gently, and she cried out, pressing both hands flat against the counter, holding herself steady against him. He stroked her back, her chest, her thighs, hips moving faster, harder, hands roaming, eyes riveted to her as she moved with him, breath coming in short gasps, legs spread wide, head thrown back, breasts heaving. He groaned, she cried out in response, working desperately to contain the pressure in her groin, that knot of tension in her belly that coiled tighter and tighter with every thrust until she couldn't hold it in anymore and the effort of containing it drew a moan from her. He lifted her against him, hands on her ass, mouth fastened to an erect nipple. One last, hard thrust and then it burst. His shout of ecstasy followed hers, hips slowing, hands resting on her thighs as he panted for breath against her neck.

He slowly collapsed against her, heart pounding. She could feel it against her, racing in time with hers. They stayed that way, basking in the exhausted aftermath of sex, ignoring the smell of burned bread and the insistent sound of his pager vibrating against the kitchen floor.

He sighed into her hair. "I really have to get that," he murmured reluctantly.

Alex nodded. "Take the bread out of the oven before someone calls the fire department," she suggested as he pulled away. She unstuck herself from the counter, sliding down and pulling her dress back on just as her own pager went off in the other room. She rolled her eyes. "I get to shower first," she said dryly.

Bobby grinned at her from where he knelt, still naked, on the floor next to the oven. "Be my guest. I'll call in."

She just nodded, headed for the shower.

"Alex?"

She turned to look at him, sweaty, disheveled, dress sticking to her.

"You really are beautiful."

She smiled slowly, turning away again without answering. All said and done... she'd call that a terrific first date.

end.