Clair(e)voyance

notevenjokingfic:

3.1

He felt her slow touch down his spine. 

“Again?” he mumbled, sleepily,  “God, Woman, let me rest a bit, aye?”

“Ooooh, was I too rough on you the last time?” she whispered, running a hand over his hip and between his legs.

Jamie stopped her hand, gently removed it.  

“Oh,” he chuckled, “I’m fine wi’ a bit of rough, it’s just…that’s twice already…I feel dehydrated.”

She laughed at that.  A full belly laugh in the night’s stillness.  The sound sliced through the bedroom like moonlight piercing darkness. 

Luminescent. 

Celestial.

Sorcha.  

The key had changed everything.  

At first he was reluctant to use it.  She gave of herself so cautiously that he didn’t want her to regret it.  Didn’t want to come on too strong.  Over time, it became easier.  Natural.  Expected.  He started leaving a change of clothes.  A toothbrush.  Shaving kit.  More clothes.

Now he had more of his stuff at her place than his own.  

And she didn’t seem to mind. 

It wasn’t easy earning Claire’s trust.  There could be no secrets.  No lies.  No time for questions to form in her mind.

In the past six months their relationship had grown, flourished, became stronger.  Claire had grown, flourished and became stronger.  She was less anxious.  Less guarded.  A more confident lover.  

Sensual.  

Provocative. 

And every day he loved her more than he did the day before.

He rolled to his side gathering her close.  She nestled against him, her perfect round arse wedged tight against his groin.  Her breast resting heavy in his hand.  He kissed her shoulder, tasting the saltiness of her skin.  She was warm and supple and smelled like sex.  Closing his eyes he balanced on the edge of sleep.

“Ye love me, aye?” he said, softly.

“You love me, too” he heard her say before he slipped into unconsciousness. 


Chief Inspector John Grey rose from his chair and quickly stepped around his desk.

“So good to see you, Sir.  Welcome!”  He offered a hand to the older man. 

The Deputy Commissioner was a man of wealth, privilege and influence.  He was also Second in Command of the London Metropolitan Police.  As a favour to John’s father, he had given his best friend’s son a glowing recommendation when he joined the Academy.  Later, he helped John win promotion after promotion.  

He owed this man his career.  And was never allowed to forget it.

John turned his attention to the young woman standing just behind her father.  His eldest daughter was with him now.  John had met her on various occasions and his opinion of her rarely changed.  

Proud.  Privileged.  Conceited.  She was all feminine wiles and no warmth.  Quite the opposite of her sister, actually.  

“Good to see you, as well,” John stretched out a hand to her.  

She took it with a forced smile.  

“Now, John,” the older man said sternly,  “No Vice, and no Homicide.  I won’t have my daughter working those cases, and not with those types of cops.”

“I understand, Sir,” John said, cutting a glance at the petite, dark haired woman.  

He smiled at her as warmly as he could.  “I understand you are an expert in Identity Theft?”  

“Cyber Crime,” she replied, voice haughty.  “Not just identity theft, but fraud of any kind.  If it’s done on a computer, I can solve it.”

How modest, John thought.  I can already tell she’ll be a pain in my arse. 

He turned his attention back to his boss.  “Rest assured, Sir, I’ll have her assigned to the right department, working with the right people.”

They shook hands again, and the Deputy Commissioner departed without a look in his daughter’s direction. 

“Please, sit down,” John said, indicating a chair in front of his desk.  “Let me just make a quick call and we’ll get you sorted in Cyber Crime.”

“I prefer something else,” she said, her large brown eyes pinned on him.

John offered a tight smile, “And I prefer to obey my superior.”

As he made the call she looked around the busy precinct.  Officers were beginning to arrive.  She could hear the faint hum of conversation, watched as men carried coffee mugs and files, checked cell phones, booted up computers.  

Middle aged men. Sloppy.  Shoddy.  Tired.  With bad suits and worse hair.  Honestly, what was I thinking?  Give me a computer, a nice office with some young, hot, twenty somethings like myself, and let me go to work.  I thought I wanted something more exciting, but not if I have to spend time with these geriatrics.

And then the main door opened. 

“Who’s that?” she asked, sitting up straight.  

John looked through the glass that surrounded his office to the busy room of officers.  It took him a moment to locate her target.  

His breath caught.

No.

No fucking way.

“It doesn’t matter. Whomever he is, he’s homicide.”

“I don’t care what Father says, that’s what I want,” she announced firmly.  Then she shook her head slightly and said, “I mean, he looks like someone I could learn from.  What’s his name?”

John grit his teeth so hard his jaw popped.

“I said, no, Geneva.”

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