OOM: Suite 130

[watching_you]

Veronica leads Mills through the labyrinthine corridors of the Milliways guest area until, eventually, they reach the right hallway.

"This place can be a bit confusing at times," she offers apologetically. "Things have a tendency to move. But I'm right up here --"

She cuts off, stopping short. This hallway's not empty.

Super.

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[watching_you]

There's a knot or two in there, and though it hurts at first, it's ultimately nice to feel them worked out. She tilts her head to the side, so that her hair falls back over her shoulder, out of his way.

She can't quite look him in the eyes right now. Instead, still slightly dizzy from the drink, she focuses on his shoulder, his arm. A tentative hand reaches up to brush at him, starting at the bunched fabric of his shirt at the elbow, and coming to rest on his bicep.

[particularskill.livejournal.com]

Later he will wonder just what it was he thought he was doing, but right now, it is instinct that moves his hand.

His fingers massage up the nape of her neck, weaving in her hair. His palm curls around the base of her skull. Gently, ever so gently, pulling her closer.

[watching_you]

She allows herself to be pulled, and in fact leans into the movement. Her breath shudders.

On his arm, her one hand clenches, tangling in his shirt; the other lifts to his neck. In a smooth, delicate motion, she runs her thumb along his jawline.

She's close enough she can feel his breath on her face, close enough that her nose is brushing his --

"Wait."






Wait. Wait? Was that -- did she just say that?

Her eyes snap open.

[particularskill.livejournal.com]

He does as he is told, holding perfectly still. There is a subtle shift in her body language and he relaxes his hold on her, until his fingertips are barely grazing her scalp.

He breathes, savouring her proximity, expecting her to pull away now. He has no real choice but to take each moment as it unfolds.

He closes his eyes and swallows.

[watching_you]

"It's just I..."

She doesn't pull back, but doesn't move closer, either. She takes in his face, his expression, and feels her heart pounding.

"I promised I wouldn't..."

It's incredibly difficult to hover like this, like fighting gravity. Bringing her hand around, she brushes his lips, so softly, with her thumb.

"...take advantage."

[particularskill.livejournal.com]

There's a gentle smile, and his lips part to capture her thumb, holding her captive as he tastes her skin. Just the briefest touch of his tongue.

And then he's the one that's pulling back, his free hand coming up to join the other, brushing her hair back so he can hold her face in his hands. The lines around his eyes deepen as he studies her face.

"You think I wouldn't be here, if it wasn't for the tequila?"

[watching_you]

She may as well have stuck her finger in a socket. Everywhere he touches her, her skin tingles with electricity.

Her hands travel to his neck, his chest, taking hold of his shirt collar.

"If you ask me to do this, I will."

She looks him in the eyes, pained.

"Please don't ask."

[particularskill.livejournal.com]

He nods, his hands leaving her face, stroking down to her neck, coming to rest on her upper arms. She can feel the strength of his hands as he places her apart from him, creating real distance between them.

He never looks away from her face, and he never for a single moment, looks upset at her decision.

"The question was always yours to ask."

[watching_you]

Veronica simply nods.

She feels charged up, full of energy that rattles around in her stomach, desperate to escape. Stupid conscience. Swallowing hard, she presses a palm against his left cheek, then as her one concession to being that kind of impulsive this evening, quickly leans in and gives him a tiny kiss on the right one, just outside the corner of his mouth.

Then she moves back, hands and all, disentangling her personal space from his.

[particularskill.livejournal.com]

He allowed himself to lean into the kiss, just for a moment, and then he's grinning at her as she pulls away.

He pulls himself up out of the couch and rises, disappearing into the kitchen. There's the sound of running water for a moment, and he returns, carrying a tall glass of water.

"Drink," he says, handing it to her.

[watching_you]

She takes it with both hands, giving him a lopsided, grateful smile.

"Don't have to tell me twice."

She attacks it with the same enthusiasm she had the shots, earlier.

[particularskill.livejournal.com]

He watches her drink, and when she's done, he takes the glass back to the kitchen. She hears the water running again, and then silence.

He stands over the sink and drinks from the same glass. Always a good guest, he washes said glass and stands it upside down in the drainer.

He turns around and leans on the counter, thinking face on. "What do you think about Italian food?"

[watching_you]

During the time it takes him to drink she takes her time wandering over towards the kitchen area; when he goes to the counter she's across it, taking one of the tall seats.

In response to his question, she shrugs. "I like it fine. Hungry?"

[particularskill.livejournal.com]

He leans in closer, mock frown on his lips. His answer is a succinct growl, "Yes."

The wild energy she was feeling seems to be contagious.

"I would cook for you, but your fridge is not nearly as well-stocked as you led me to believe."

[watching_you]

"Yeah, I meant my bar fridge. Sorry."

She drums her fingers on the counter, and gives him a guilty look.

"I'm living in my world right now, so I try not to keep too much around. Plus I, you know, live above a restaurant."

[particularskill.livejournal.com]

He drops to his elbows on the counter, effectively putting them eye to eye.

"What's today, Friday? There's a farmer's market just up the street from my apartment." He raises an eyebrow. "Up for an adventure?"

[watching_you]

The looks this earns him is highly skeptical.

"Right now? You want to go grocery shopping -- now?" She shakes her head, grinning despite herself. "I'm all for adventure, but... I'm not exactly tequila-free just yet."

[particularskill.livejournal.com]

The corners of his mouth draw down a bit. "It's just a short walk. Come on. The fresh air will clear your head."

[watching_you]

"Oh, come on, don't -- are you pouting? Don't pout at me."

She gives him a good-natured eyeroll. "Fine. We'll go."

[particularskill.livejournal.com]

His eyes light up and he smirks at her. "Right."

He stands and walks around the bar, pausing to bend and kiss her cheek. Just a peck, over before it's begun, and then he's moving to put his shoes back on.

"They actually have a cheese guy at the market. Fresh mozzarella. That and the first roma tomatoes are in season. A little basil, a little olive oil. I would suggest a little wine, but I think we can skip that. This time anyway."

[watching_you]

The kiss comes unexpectedly, and for a moment she sits there, blinking in surprise.

Eventually she realizes Mills is still speaking.

"Hm? Oh. Yes. Good idea."

[particularskill.livejournal.com]

Shoes on, he reaches for his holster, unfurling it and slipping it back around his shoulders. It's then that he notices she's still sitting at the bar.

"I could go by myself, I guess. Bring it back here, if you wanted."

[watching_you]

There are key advantages to his suggestion -- namely that it would grant her time to have the cold shower she'd like for so many reasons -- but instead she hops off her seat.

"No, no. I'm coming."

She hurries to the front hall and slips into some flats, then considers the contents of her front closet.

"What's the weather like in your universe today?"

[particularskill.livejournal.com]

"It was in the low seventies when I entered the bar, so..."

He's folding his shirt sleeves down and buttoning up again, slipping his jacket back on and checking the pockets. She might notice the mobile phone he glances at and then puts away. He also taps his breast pocket, making sure his wallet is still where it's supposed to be.

"I'd take something light to cover up with, just in case."

[watching_you]

"Hm."

She settles on a double-breasted red trench coat. It's just slightly flashy, and gives off a pulp detective vibe. It's exactly the kind of thing unsuited to undercover work, which is why Veronica, to her great regret, hasn't been able to wear it in months.

She scoops up her purse and goes to stand by the door, looking back at Mills expectantly.