Title: Domestic Contentment
Author: Debb
Rating:NC-17
Show/Pairing: LOCI B/A
Synopsis: The title and the rating pretty much explain it all.
Disclaimer: I'm running out of witty things to put here. I have to plagiarize because I have no imagination. Pity me, and don't sue.
Thanks muchly to Kara, my beta reader.

He was sprawled on the couch, watching the Discovery channel. She was leaning against his chest reading a romance novel, their legs tangled up in front of her. He'd made fun of her for reading romance novels, she'd teased him about reading Smithsonian magazine.

It was eleven a.m. on Sunday morning, and for once, nobody seemed to have died. It wouldn't last, of course, but in the meantime, they could enjoy sitting here in contented domesticity with her book and his forensics special.

His hand crept over the waistband of her pyjama bottoms and up underneath her shirt. She smiled, looking up at him. "Enjoying yourself?"

He turned his face to hers, planting a kiss on the side of her mouth while he rubbed a hand over her ribs. She set aside her book, turning to wrap her arms around his neck. "Your show's over," she said into his ear.

"Mmmm," he murmured, playing with her hair. She leaned into it contentedly. It was moments like these that made her spend her time here, despite the pieces of motor in the bathroom sink and the naked woman painting he called "art" in the bedroom.

Well, moments like these, and if she stayed home she had to eat take-out. She'd always been a practical kind of woman.

"You got plans today, Bobby?" she asked, nearly incapacitated with the pleasantly sensual feel of his fingers in her hair.

He snorted. "I plan to end up working. I'm on call, in case you've forgotten.

"Probably no point in getting started then, is there?" she said with a dissapointed sigh.

"Well," he repositioned her until she was fully on his lap, "I don't know about that..." He stroked her face, starting at the temple, down her neck, over her chest, undoing one button at a time. He traced soft circles around her nipple, traveled further down her body until his hand rested on her belly, one finger just underneath the waistband of her pants. The shirt slid off her shoulders onto the couch, and she shivered with cold and anticipation, lifting her hips and settling more firmly against his groin. His breath caught, and he slid the soft fabric of her pyjamas down over her legs, allowing them to fall in a puddle on the floor.

She rose, straddled him, clad in nothing but black lace panties, and leaning forward, her breasts right in his face, slid one hand down the front of his pants to gently stroke his rising cock. He took one breast in his mouth, sucking gently, circled the puckered nipple with his tongue, sliding both hands under her panties, pushing them off and allowing one hand to wander the firm ass while the other moved further to explore the warm, wet cavity that hovered so tantaizingly close to his now very hard dick.

She moaned into his ear, pushing back against his hand and forward into his groin in little thrusting motions that drew a groan from him, pulled her hand out of his shorts, tugging his shirt off over his head and shoving his pants down just far enough to expose him. He gripped her hips, steadying her as she lifted them and settled slowly back down, reveling in the way his cock filled her, rubbing in all the right places. She relaxed, letting him support her, and just enjoyed the feel of him inside her for a moment.

"Alex," he breathed.

She sighed her pleasure, bracing her hands against his belly. He reached out to stroke her breasts and she began moving against him with slow, firm thrusts.

He panted for breath, pushing upward against her, joining in the rhythm of their movements. He pulled her closer until her chest rubbed against his, clinging to her as their bodies moved in unison, eyes riveted to the motion of her hips, body responding to the feel of smooth skin, soft breasts, tight, hot wetness. He twitched inside her, losing control of his hips and then everything else as he shouted his pleasure. She followed close behind, clutching him, crying out, collapsing against him in relief.

Bobby pushed her hair out of his face, rearranging both of them into a comfortable position. She just lay in exhausted contentment, letting him man-handle her.

"Hi, beautiful," he murmured into her hair. She smiled up at him, smile widening into a grin when his pager went off.

"Poor Bobby," she said mock-seriously. "Look on the bright side. At least you got laid today." He stuck his tongue out at her before removing his comfortable warmth and heading for the phone. She sighed. He'd give her as long as possible before calling her, but if he was going in, she was going in too. Eventually. end.