Happy
place
Author: wanderingsmith
Aug 2008
Summary: Elizabeth's happy place
Rating: PG13
Disclaimer: I ain't got no money, and nobody'd be daft enough to pay me
for this.
AN: unbetaed. Well, OK, more like *my* happy place...
this is what happens when I get obsessed
"Go to your happy place."
Somehow Elizabeth didn't think John had any idea what he was
encouraging when he quoted that overused phrase at her when she
actually whined at him about the IOA's latest ridiculous demands...
She wriggled her shoulders a little to settle even more deeply into the
media room armchair whose comfort she'd discovered one day. One
locked door, check. One turned off radio, check. One
darkened room, check. One hoarded fine dark chocolate bar,
*check*.
Closing her eyes, she took a few deep breaths, and then a few mental
Banto stick swings at the work-thoughts that tried to pop out.
She finally took a dainty bite of chocolate, taking a single chew at a
time and letting the slightly sweet, slightly bitter, so-smooth mix of
chemicals that worked chocolate's magic carry her into a warm, peaceful
world; an invisible bodyguard watching her 'six' with that stick to
neutralize the stubborn thoughts still appearing.
Her second bite was taken with muscles getting heavy with relaxation as
she continued to take deep breaths and let herself float.
This time she left the larger piece of heaven on her tongue to melt as
she slowly suckled it, giving a very slight nudge to the amorphous
world she floated in. Slowly, in time with the release of silky
darkness onto her taste buds, shape and sight developed to join peace
and warmth. The feeling of having a body, with lips and fingers;
relaxed and happy.
And then a position; kneeling, no strain on her knee, just softness
below and her body holding itself easily. The 'world' around
didn't register as anything.. but the shade of the body she rested over
and against had substance and colour; and warmth. *Life* in
regular breaths and a scent all around her that she took a cleansing
breath of in that beautiful world.
Taking another bite, she found her hands on relaxed, strong shoulders
as her body rested at ease on the warm, flannel-covered male chest,
knees on either side of hard, jean-clad thighs. The man, and she
didn't want to stutter the relaxation by giving him any more identity
than that, had his head to the side, resting on the back of the
armchair they both occupied, his face in shadows.
This was an old fantasy, made to calm and comfort. Guided by
caring and gentled desire, by the denied need for touch. *To*
touch; to give affection...
She lowered her lips to the tip of an elfin ear, tender skin under her
barely touching lips, uncombed dark hair tickling her cheek as she
dreamily traced her way to his cheekbone. Soft hair gave way to
rough stubble against her skin. She shifted her face away from
the scrub, kissing the corner of a closed eye before starting down,
licking when her lips started hitting those short hairs, feeling both
soft skin and the stiff little spikes on her tongue. The taste
was half faint memory, half chocolate; the smell of a well-recognized,
yet unknown cologne spiraling through her senses.
One hand stroked over the body-warmed, soft material of his shirt and
then tugged the collar gently to expose more of the tanned skin.
As her lips continued down over supple cheek to solid jaw, nibbling a
bit before following the bone to a stubborn chin, her index teased the
skin at the new edge of his shirt, a shiver running through the male
body, otherwise silent and still under her tactile enjoyment.
Softly rounded, sensuous lips tempted her, as they always did,
but a kiss required two souls, and this was about letting her senses
relax.. not regretting lonely reality. So she resisted, giving
just one kiss to the prickly hollow under the bottom half of his so
sweetly sleep-smiling mouth, and then going back to the chin to take
another bite of the jawbone; and chocolate.
For just a minute she let her weight rest on him, cheek to cheek, and
closed even *those* eyes, pretending the warmth and closeness were
real. Just one little minute as the lightly orange-flavoured
chocolate warmed enough to melt and her tired soul remembered the value
of life.
Then she sat up again purposefully, pulling away from oh-so-male
bearded cheek and looking at the expanse of skin showing from the
jawbone to the flannel boundary. And grinned happily as she
watched her finger, allowed to touch, stroke; watched the triangle of
exposed chest rise and fall with breathing, the Adam's apple shift with
a swallow. Happy place.
She sat down on his thighs for easier access and leaned in to lick,
from that rarely seen hollow of his throat to the dark underside at the
tip of his jawbone. The chocolate reality and dream-skin tastes
were different, but equally heavenly, silky cacao versus
sandpaper-covered soft heat.
Sitting in her quiet chair in the media room, Elizabeth sighed
peacefully, absently feeling how little chocolate was left as she took
another bite and started dropping suckling kisses over all the lovely
skin at her very own dream-disposal. There were all sorts of
muscles playing underneath, strong bones and cartilage shifting under
her occasional nibbles. Toward the back, her nose was caressed by
a neatly resting lock of hair as she stroked her lips over the
protected skin behind that pixie ear. Well, there had to be one
cooperative section in the dark mop..
The softness of flannel was different than that of hair, but it held
that comforting smooth spice of cologne as she nosed its edge; and the
warmth of a strong male body. She unconsciously kept her cheek on
it as long as she could as she dropped more cherishing suckles on her
way to the curl of hair peeking out of his shirt, letting her lips
stroke here and there as the stubble lessened away from his jaw and she
could do it without anything distracting her from sweet, salty skin.
Her other hand came and played with those hairs as she watched now,
unmoving otherwise, her cheek resting on his covered pectoral, sadly
knowing she'd just taken her last piece of chocolate and her
self-limited break was due to be over soon.
With last careful kisses to the edge of the hollow of his throat and
the side of his Adam's apple, Elizabeth made herself sit up and meet
hazel eyes that opened at her movement. Familiar affection and
caring looked back at her and she swallowed the words that made her
eyes burn, forcing herself to dismiss the guilty fantasy and open her
real eyes to the silent, lonely media room.
It *was* a happy place. She just needed to learn to leave without
facing his eyes... But they were such a part of what made her
want him that leaving without looking into John's eyes was something
she hadn't managed, even the first time, when their identity had
actually been a surprise...
AN: I had to find a way to touch that image... not sure its quite
expunged yet.. so ou may be faced with it again.. lol
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