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threeguessesTitle: Easy As
Rating: R
Word Count: 1000+
Disclaimer: Disclaimed!
Summary: In which Kalinda is a surprisingly good girlfriend.
AN: Written for Porn Battle XII. Prompts: secret, feelings, work, possible. (And holy wish-fulfillment, Batman. Someday I'll write plot.)
Easy As
The thing is, oddly, Kalinda’s a pretty decent girlfriend.
Not that Alicia’s ever had a girlfriend before (and okay, she’s in her forties, so it’s maybe not the most suitable term— although sometimes it really does feel as though they’re slipping notes into lockers, let’s skip third period and fuck in the copy room; that same brand of secrecy). And besides, even if it were age-appropriate, they’ve barely discussed the sex, let alone any sort of relationship. It’s just… if Alicia were going to measure Kalinda against some imaginary girlfriend-meter in her head, well – Kalinda would come pretty close.
Yes, of course she’s infuriating and impossible and refuses to talk about anything, ever. Of course Alicia knows nothing about her life; brothers or sisters, dog or a cat person. Of course she’s allergic to Alicia’s kids. Still, she remembers things – when Alicia’s next hair appointment is, how she likes her coffee, what position Grace plays in soccer. Alicia doesn’t know if Kalinda’s always had her scheduled memorized, known her favourite colour, but she’s noticing the attention now. She wouldn’t think much of it because, yeah, investigator, finding and retaining information, etcetera, etcetera – except. Except, except, except.
(Kalinda can’t even remember Courtney’s name.)
Alicia was worried, when they first started, that things would be different at work. That Kalinda would be colder, more aloof, compensating for the new intimacy. That she would balk at the idea of seeing Alicia all the time, day-in, day-out and now at dinner too, evenings. That it would chafe.
That didn’t happen.
Kalinda’s not the same at work, she’s – more. Pulling Alicia out of briefings and bringing her coffee, requesting her assistance on higher profile cases. Alicia finds herself second-chair on one of the firm’s biggest lawsuits of the year, Will and Diane’s confused faces, Kalinda’s faint smirk. All this like it’s nothing, like it’s normal, and Alicia doesn’t want to thank her in case she stops.
And it’s— Alicia thought they would be more discreet. Not that they’re kissing in the elevator, but Kalinda doesn’t even seem to be bothering with a poker face; always smiling at Alicia, always sitting closer than she used to. Touching – not overtly, taps on the shoulder and quick fingers in the crook of an elbow – but often, and where people can see. Once, when Alicia isn’t paying enough attention to the memo they’re reading, Kalinda catches her chin lightly, makes her look. They’re alone, technically, but the conference room walls are glass. Alicia’s blush lingers for the rest of the meeting.
It’s reserved, because Kalinda’s reserved, but anyone with a brain can see they’ve made up.
Sometimes Alicia wonders if it’s her, if her standards have lowered. She used to require fine dining, gestures; now all it takes is Kalinda’s quiet smile, the way she rolls her eyes when she’s flirting. (Twice now she’s brought Alicia lunch without prompting, darting in and out of settlement negotiations, a salad or a sandwich sitting at Alicia’s place after she's gone. Everyone’s talking, who gets billed for what, and Alicia wants to shake them and say, look, she bought me lunch.)
And it’s not just at work.
Kalinda’s good at other things too, obscenely good. On the couch and in the shower, once up against the door because they couldn’t wait. The countertop, for god’s sakes. She’s always interested, always willing – like having sex with a teenage boy, right down to how easy it is to make her come. (Alicia’s harder, Alicia takes time, but apparently Kalinda doesn’t mind the investment.)
Now, for instance: urging Alicia up her body, dismissing any objections (are you sure are you sure but what if I—) and it’s so good, Alicia’s hands on the headboard, knees on the pillow, Kalinda’s tongue and her fingers and the way she likes it best when Alicia’s loud, undone. Alicia collapses backwards onto the bed afterwards, breathless.
Still: Kalinda taps at her leg; “I have to go.” Just like that— a twist of the wrist, a shrug. No explanation.
“God, why?” Alicia groans, dragging the sheet up over her hip. “What could you possibly have to do at—” she glances at her watch “—seven p.m. on a Friday?”
Kalinda smirks, leaning down to touch their mouths together. “Things.”
Alicia gives up. “Fine,” she calls as Kalinda heads off into the bathroom to dress. “Be mysterious. I’ll spend my evening with a bottle of wine.”
Kalinda walks back into view rolling her eyes. “I’m sure you’ll be very happy together," she says, climbing onto the bed and dropping into Alicia’s lap none-too-gently. She’s wearing nylons and an unbuttoned blouse, skirt still somewhere in the kitchen. She tilts her chin up imperiously so Alicia can reach the clasp on her necklace.
Alicia laughs and complies. Task accomplished, she tugs at the sides of the open blouse lightly; sometimes Kalinda tolerates fussing after sex, sometimes not. This time is a not – she swats Alicia’s hands away, fixes the buttons herself. Only then she doesn’t move.
“If you wait, I can pick up dinner afterwards. Come back.”
“Oh.” Alicia is stupidly pleased. “I— yes. That would be nice.” She feels silly and inane.
Kalinda smirks. “Okay,” she says, leaning over to plant a solid stamp of a kiss on Alicia’s mouth. It’s a peck, casual, see-you-later-sweetheart; Alicia used to kiss Peter like that all the time.
Suddenly the room feels about twenty degrees warmer.
“Alright,” Kalinda continues, swinging over and off Alicia. “Do you want Thai, there’s that place on the corner—” She stops when she sees Alicia’s face. “What?”
“Nothing, just—” Alicia shakes her head. “Kalinda, are we...?” The sentence could end a million different ways, and Alicia can’t think of a single one that isn't terrifying.
Kalinda blinks. There’s a frisson of something in her eyes, and then it’s gone. “Yes,” she shrugs after a pause, as if it should be obvious. She scoops her earrings off the dresser.
Alicia gapes at her. The textbook definition of avoidance, a teenager’s version of the talk, yes, yes, and Alicia doesn’t care— A million endings, and that was Kalinda’s answer to all of them.
Kalinda is pointedly ignoring her reaction, a heel tapping in the doorway. “So. Thai?”
Alicia laughs incredulously. “Yes, sure, Kalinda. God." She runs a hand through her hair. "Anything.”
Kalinda whisks out the door without so much as a goodbye.
Alicia buries her smile in the pillow. She knows that Kalinda will come back with all her own favourites and none of Alicia’s, because telling Kalinda ‘anything’ is like waving a red flag at a bull. Knows that she’ll be standoffish and tired and sit more than a few feet away on the couch, will mock all of Alicia’s movie choices viciously. That she’ll always keep secrets and refuse to talk about feelings.
But.
She also knows that if she takes Kalinda’s hand during opening credits, Kalinda will let her keep it, at least for five minutes. That when they go to bed, she'll insist on going down on Alicia, even if she doesn’t come. That in the morning, sleepy and rumpled, she’ll rest her head against Alicia’s back in the shower, wet yawns and the edge of her teeth. That she’ll fix Alicia’s coffee without asking.
That she’ll pretend they never had this conversation, but when they’re saying goodbye in the entryway she’ll kiss Alicia a little longer and a little longer, silence stretching out like taffy and lingering; a hand on Alicia’s jaw, a promise she hasn’t given, but will keep.
Rating: R
Word Count: 1000+
Disclaimer: Disclaimed!
Summary: In which Kalinda is a surprisingly good girlfriend.
AN: Written for Porn Battle XII. Prompts: secret, feelings, work, possible. (And holy wish-fulfillment, Batman. Someday I'll write plot.)
Easy As
The thing is, oddly, Kalinda’s a pretty decent girlfriend.
Not that Alicia’s ever had a girlfriend before (and okay, she’s in her forties, so it’s maybe not the most suitable term— although sometimes it really does feel as though they’re slipping notes into lockers, let’s skip third period and fuck in the copy room; that same brand of secrecy). And besides, even if it were age-appropriate, they’ve barely discussed the sex, let alone any sort of relationship. It’s just… if Alicia were going to measure Kalinda against some imaginary girlfriend-meter in her head, well – Kalinda would come pretty close.
Yes, of course she’s infuriating and impossible and refuses to talk about anything, ever. Of course Alicia knows nothing about her life; brothers or sisters, dog or a cat person. Of course she’s allergic to Alicia’s kids. Still, she remembers things – when Alicia’s next hair appointment is, how she likes her coffee, what position Grace plays in soccer. Alicia doesn’t know if Kalinda’s always had her scheduled memorized, known her favourite colour, but she’s noticing the attention now. She wouldn’t think much of it because, yeah, investigator, finding and retaining information, etcetera, etcetera – except. Except, except, except.
(Kalinda can’t even remember Courtney’s name.)
Alicia was worried, when they first started, that things would be different at work. That Kalinda would be colder, more aloof, compensating for the new intimacy. That she would balk at the idea of seeing Alicia all the time, day-in, day-out and now at dinner too, evenings. That it would chafe.
That didn’t happen.
Kalinda’s not the same at work, she’s – more. Pulling Alicia out of briefings and bringing her coffee, requesting her assistance on higher profile cases. Alicia finds herself second-chair on one of the firm’s biggest lawsuits of the year, Will and Diane’s confused faces, Kalinda’s faint smirk. All this like it’s nothing, like it’s normal, and Alicia doesn’t want to thank her in case she stops.
And it’s— Alicia thought they would be more discreet. Not that they’re kissing in the elevator, but Kalinda doesn’t even seem to be bothering with a poker face; always smiling at Alicia, always sitting closer than she used to. Touching – not overtly, taps on the shoulder and quick fingers in the crook of an elbow – but often, and where people can see. Once, when Alicia isn’t paying enough attention to the memo they’re reading, Kalinda catches her chin lightly, makes her look. They’re alone, technically, but the conference room walls are glass. Alicia’s blush lingers for the rest of the meeting.
It’s reserved, because Kalinda’s reserved, but anyone with a brain can see they’ve made up.
Sometimes Alicia wonders if it’s her, if her standards have lowered. She used to require fine dining, gestures; now all it takes is Kalinda’s quiet smile, the way she rolls her eyes when she’s flirting. (Twice now she’s brought Alicia lunch without prompting, darting in and out of settlement negotiations, a salad or a sandwich sitting at Alicia’s place after she's gone. Everyone’s talking, who gets billed for what, and Alicia wants to shake them and say, look, she bought me lunch.)
And it’s not just at work.
Kalinda’s good at other things too, obscenely good. On the couch and in the shower, once up against the door because they couldn’t wait. The countertop, for god’s sakes. She’s always interested, always willing – like having sex with a teenage boy, right down to how easy it is to make her come. (Alicia’s harder, Alicia takes time, but apparently Kalinda doesn’t mind the investment.)
Now, for instance: urging Alicia up her body, dismissing any objections (are you sure are you sure but what if I—) and it’s so good, Alicia’s hands on the headboard, knees on the pillow, Kalinda’s tongue and her fingers and the way she likes it best when Alicia’s loud, undone. Alicia collapses backwards onto the bed afterwards, breathless.
Still: Kalinda taps at her leg; “I have to go.” Just like that— a twist of the wrist, a shrug. No explanation.
“God, why?” Alicia groans, dragging the sheet up over her hip. “What could you possibly have to do at—” she glances at her watch “—seven p.m. on a Friday?”
Kalinda smirks, leaning down to touch their mouths together. “Things.”
Alicia gives up. “Fine,” she calls as Kalinda heads off into the bathroom to dress. “Be mysterious. I’ll spend my evening with a bottle of wine.”
Kalinda walks back into view rolling her eyes. “I’m sure you’ll be very happy together," she says, climbing onto the bed and dropping into Alicia’s lap none-too-gently. She’s wearing nylons and an unbuttoned blouse, skirt still somewhere in the kitchen. She tilts her chin up imperiously so Alicia can reach the clasp on her necklace.
Alicia laughs and complies. Task accomplished, she tugs at the sides of the open blouse lightly; sometimes Kalinda tolerates fussing after sex, sometimes not. This time is a not – she swats Alicia’s hands away, fixes the buttons herself. Only then she doesn’t move.
“If you wait, I can pick up dinner afterwards. Come back.”
“Oh.” Alicia is stupidly pleased. “I— yes. That would be nice.” She feels silly and inane.
Kalinda smirks. “Okay,” she says, leaning over to plant a solid stamp of a kiss on Alicia’s mouth. It’s a peck, casual, see-you-later-sweetheart; Alicia used to kiss Peter like that all the time.
Suddenly the room feels about twenty degrees warmer.
“Alright,” Kalinda continues, swinging over and off Alicia. “Do you want Thai, there’s that place on the corner—” She stops when she sees Alicia’s face. “What?”
“Nothing, just—” Alicia shakes her head. “Kalinda, are we...?” The sentence could end a million different ways, and Alicia can’t think of a single one that isn't terrifying.
Kalinda blinks. There’s a frisson of something in her eyes, and then it’s gone. “Yes,” she shrugs after a pause, as if it should be obvious. She scoops her earrings off the dresser.
Alicia gapes at her. The textbook definition of avoidance, a teenager’s version of the talk, yes, yes, and Alicia doesn’t care— A million endings, and that was Kalinda’s answer to all of them.
Kalinda is pointedly ignoring her reaction, a heel tapping in the doorway. “So. Thai?”
Alicia laughs incredulously. “Yes, sure, Kalinda. God." She runs a hand through her hair. "Anything.”
Kalinda whisks out the door without so much as a goodbye.
Alicia buries her smile in the pillow. She knows that Kalinda will come back with all her own favourites and none of Alicia’s, because telling Kalinda ‘anything’ is like waving a red flag at a bull. Knows that she’ll be standoffish and tired and sit more than a few feet away on the couch, will mock all of Alicia’s movie choices viciously. That she’ll always keep secrets and refuse to talk about feelings.
But.
She also knows that if she takes Kalinda’s hand during opening credits, Kalinda will let her keep it, at least for five minutes. That when they go to bed, she'll insist on going down on Alicia, even if she doesn’t come. That in the morning, sleepy and rumpled, she’ll rest her head against Alicia’s back in the shower, wet yawns and the edge of her teeth. That she’ll fix Alicia’s coffee without asking.
That she’ll pretend they never had this conversation, but when they’re saying goodbye in the entryway she’ll kiss Alicia a little longer and a little longer, silence stretching out like taffy and lingering; a hand on Alicia’s jaw, a promise she hasn’t given, but will keep.
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no subject
Date: 2011-08-08 05:06 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-08-08 07:44 pm (UTC)