Kate Warner (
justdidntseeit) wrote2009-11-04 01:36 am
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[[ france ]]
[ 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?"
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Her fingertips brush over Kate's hand as she does so.
"'Least you weren't wearing anything embarrassing underneath," she points out.
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Kate breathes a chuckle and opens her eyes, Beckett's hand and the ring coming into slow focus.
"I'm out of pants, too."
Her thumb ghosts over Beckett's knuckles while her lips hover over Bill's pulse.
"And we could've made your underwear disappear, sheriff -- but we didn't, 'cause we're nice."
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His throat works with another soft murmur, and he curls his fingers into the thin fabric of her top.
"'Preciate y'all bein' s'nice. M'pretty lousy at cards."
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"S'different," she adds, but she's not about to debate the finer points of the obvious differences between men and women.
"Doesn't matter; I should go to bed."
Instead of debating, she leans in, her hand nudging up under Kate's chin right around the time she attempts to kiss her temple by way of saying goodnight.
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Her head turns at Beckett's touch and she isn't expecting to meet Beckett's mouth; with a soft, surprised murmur, her hand slides up Beckett's torso to the detective's neck.
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His eyes open when Kate's mouth leaves his throat, and he turns his head to pout and complain. What he sees when he looks at Kate and Beckett makes his eyes widen and mouth fall open.
Somewhere in his wine fogged brain he knows it could be just the angle, or maybe wishful, drinken hallucinations, but it looks to him like Kate is kissing Beckett.
It leaves him speechless; not knowing what to say, and not wanting to break the moment, true or not.
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Her hand awkwardly attempts to find purchase somewhere, settling for a loose grasp around Kate's wrist, her thumb brushing over the pulse that flutters along the inside where the skin is thinnest. Beckett's eyes are closed, but she can still picture it - almost translucent, blue veins threading together and apart.
Her other hand uses Kate's hip to steady herself, the scent of citrus and the press of Kate's mouth against hers a dizzying combination.
She breaks away after a moment, blinking slowly.
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When she opens her eyes, she swallows and licks her lips, cheeks flushing darker.
"I -- "
On some level, she thinks she should apologize, but that felt more like an accident than a mistake; Beckett's still so close and Kate's fingers are threading into her hair at the base of her skull, tentative and featherlight.
"Was that okay?"
Her eyes leave Beckett's so she can chance a look at Bill.
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He's never been turned on so fast, and it shows; in his eyes, the way his mouth is still slightly hanging open, and the rising in his boxer shorts.
He quirks a smile at Kate, eyes darting towards Beckett, and still doesn't know what the hell to say.
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"S'fine," she promises, even leaning her head into Kate's touch as she feels fingertips kneading along her hairline, "but if I don't lay down soon, m'liable to tip over."
She doesn't exactly back away, though.
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Wine and want and Beckett's grip and the press of Bill's burgeoning erection against the curve of her ass overload her synapses and rational thought; she takes an unsteady breath and a chuckle catches low in her throat.
"Then we should get you in bed."
Her fingers flex at Beckett's scalp in a gentle massage, and she arches her body against Bill's.
"What d'you think, sweetheart?"
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"Yeah."
His voice is low; his eyes wander over Kate and Beckett, and he can feel want and alcohol running hot and fast through his veins.
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They're past the stairs now, at least; even in her wine-soaked haze, she still remembers the direction the bedrooms are in.
Reluctantly, she pulls back, if only temporarily, to head that way.
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When the door opens, she follows Beckett inside and crosses the room to flick on a low-burning lamp, half-stumbling over a pair of her running shoes with a quiet giggle in the process.
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When Kate goes to turn on the light he's left beside Beckett. Looking at her, he leans in a bit and grins.
"Y'do smell like cherries."
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"Didn't think you'd gotten close enough to tell," she murmurs.
(Maybe not completely unintentional.)
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Her hands settle on Beckett's hips and she playfully nudges Beckett closer to Bill.
"S'okay," she says, her lips brushing Beckett's ear; she's reassuring both of them and herself. "We're all sharing."
Eyes flicking to Bill, she smiles before turning her attention to the side of Beckett's neck.
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"I-- "
He looks at Kate when she steps up behind Beckett, then watches the detective as the space between them is closed up.
"I-- "
Kate's reassurance helps, and the sight of her kissing Beckett again encourages him to move closer.
Even through the desire and the wine, there are still nerves buzzing in his guts, and so he starts out with a kiss to Beckett's cheek, it's not chaste, but it is somewhat careful.
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She leans in, turning her head right around the time he ducks in to kiss her cheek, and even as he starts to pull away, she's there to deliver one of her own, her lips brushing first over the corner of his mouth, then his jawline, as she presses back against Kate simultaneously.
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Her hand skims down Beckett's arm to Beckett's side, and she runs her palms down Beckett's ribs before her fingers skate to the flat plane of Beckett's abdomen.
Her other hand dips lower on the detective's back, smoothing down the curve of Beckett's ass.
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He lifts one hand to her shoulder and his thumb extends to swipe against her collarbone while one finger toys with her bra strap.
His other hand goes down and covers Kate's over Beckett's ass, thumb grazing Kate's wrist, and fingertips overlapping hers to press into Beckett's soft rear.
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It's impossible for her to ignore Kate, even if she'd wanted to, and after a long moment passes, she leans back in her direction, the back of her head resting against Kate's shoulder while she grins lazily.
One of her hands reaches back around to cup the back of Kate's head, grabbing a gentle fistful of her hair, before she turns to claim her mouth again, this time purposeful.
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Her hand tightens beneath Bill's on Beckett's ass while the other slides up Beckett's stomach, knuckles brushing Bill's torso as she reaches the underside of Beckett's bra.
Fingertip tracing the ring hanging between Beckett's breasts, she's breathing hard when she pulls back just enough to smile, her pupils wide and dark when she opens her eyes.
"Bed," she says, the syllable hardly a whisper against the corner of Beckett's mouth.
Lifting her head takes more effort than it should, but the thrill of want that sings through her veins when she glances at Bill more than makes up for the trouble.
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When she draws back to turn attention to Kate, he drops his head and presses his lips to Beckett's collarbone, then her shoulder; grazing the skin genty with his teeth then sucking lightly with his lips.
Kate's voice rings in his ears and he pulls back to look at her, then Beckett, and then the bed. Moving closer to the bed until his leg bumps the edge, he smiles, more than willing at this point, but looks to them to see how this is going to work.
Fantasies aside, he's never done this.
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She pauses, but only briefly, to take off the oversized watch around her wrist, setting it down on the nightstand, and it's quickly joined by the chain around her neck.
Beckett sits down on the edge of the bed, looking back and forth at them. One hand grabs onto Kate's hip while its twin does the same with the elastic waistband of Bill's boxers, and she tugs them down to her.
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