justdidntseeit: (time here all but means nothing)
[ every alcohol-soaked night has a morning after ]
Kate flicks off the lamp and slips into bed next to Bill, her eyes slowly adjusting to the faint light from the crescent moon filtering through the window.

She can't keep still-frames of the night before from flashing through her mind -- of Bill, of Beckett, of herself, together in a tangle of sweat-slick skin and limbs and lips and tongues and teeth; she's been seeing snapshots all day, a mental slideshow she can't turn off.

Despite how well the morning after went, Kate knows she and Bill need to talk.

But, rolling onto her side to face him, she can't bring herself to say we need to talk.

(For one, it's cliché.)

(For another, she can't.)
justdidntseeit: (saucy shoulder)
[ these stakes have a high alcohol content ]
She's lost count of how much wine they've put away among the three of them.

By the time they call it a night, she's also lost count of how many hands of Texas hold 'em have slipped through their fingers, wallets, and wardrobes.

Kate's laughing as they stagger-stumble upstairs in a tangle of arms and torsos and underwear.

(At this point, she's fairly certain Bill and Beckett are mostly carrying her between them.)

They clear the stairs and her ankle rolls -- how, she's not quite sure -- but she's taking Beckett and Bill with her with a warm tumble, the ceiling's spinning, and she can't stop laughing.

"God, guys, I'm sorry -- sorry -- "

Her fingers brush Bill's stomach, and her free hand grazes Beckett's ribs as she twists to peer at them.

"Everybody okay?"
justdidntseeit: (time here all but means nothing)
With Boo spending the night with a playmate nearby and Demeter away, the remaining grown-ups have the evening and the house to themselves.

Which means, after a long, unhurried dinner and plenty of conversation, Kate, Beckett and Bill find themselves working their way through more than a couple of bottles of wine from Demeter's impressive cellar.

And Bill's shuffling a deck of playing cards.

The stakes have yet to be determined.
justdidntseeit: (so careful when i'm in your arms)
She wakes in a warm tangle of limbs and sheets, her face buried in the hollow of Bill's neck and shoulder.

The room is half-lit in early-morning gray, and she stifles a yawn.

Shifting, her leg moves higher on his thigh; she breathes deep, blinking the blurriness from her vision.

Bill stirs next to her, his arm tightening around her to draw her closer. Her lips press against his neck, and she smiles against his skin.

"Morning," she says, her voice soft and hoarse.

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justdidntseeit: (Default)
Kate Warner

May 2012

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