Front Seat

CODE: D (set in the D Is For Damien storyline)

TAKES PLACE DURING (specific story): Both scenes: NA

PAIRING: Det. James Mulroy/Det. Sandi Brannon (M/F)

EXPLANATION: *LMAO* This one started out quite funny. Det. Mulroy is a really straitlaced, if kind of loony, character from the D Is For Damien novels. In later novels along comes Det. Sandi Brannon, who used to work with him. Turns out they had more history than that, as the first scene shows--their first time was in the FRONT SEAT OF A CAR! Parked outside the POLICE STATION!! ;D I wanted a pairing that was unusual in that it is MULROY pushing for a commitment, whereas Brannon is just interested in the whole sex thing. Which is doubly weird, since he's a Sagittarius, and she's an Aries, and astrology says that HE should be the one running away from a relationship...well, they're on and off again, all the time--when they're not fighting, they're having sex. Really good, cheesy fun.

DISCLAIMERS: Some slight POV troubles. Don't even ask me what the hell they're talking about in the opening of "Front Seat"...again I needed random dialogue just to open the piece up, and that nonsense was it. o_o; I'm also not quite sure why two detectives are in a squad car...oh well...convenience?

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Front Seat

He flipped idly through the stack of envelopes he'd found. "Unpaid bill. Unpaid bill. Unpaid bill. Huh. Unpaid parking ticket. Unpaid bill..." He trailed off, not even bothering to keep track of just how many unpaid articles there were.

Brannon sat beside him, evidently oblivious to the counting. She wasn't even thinking about the bills. The whole time that Mulroy sat there she stared at him.

"It's a wonder this guy isn't in the red," he muttered to himself. "Unpaid bill. Unpaid bill."

"Detective?" Brannon said.

He turned and looked at her, and was somewhat surprised by the look on her face. He could suddenly tell that she hadn't been listening to him the whole time. As if he'd expected her to.

She spoke. "Don't take this the wrong way but I am extremely attracted to you."

Mulroy blinked. Of all the come-ons he'd ever heard, that one was certainly the most straightforward. Yet what surprised him more was the abrupt feeling that passed over him--as soon as the words had left Detective Brannon's mouth his heart had sped up considerably. He couldn't believe how sudden it was.

There was a brief pause. Then before he even knew what he was doing he leaned forward, his mouth meeting hers abruptly. Some part of his head was still bewildered, trying to figure out what was going on. It was as if he had no conscious control whatsoever.

Brannon responded immediately by taking hold of his face; they were kissing each other fiercely, almost as if they were fighting. He couldn't tell if it was he or she or both of them who initiated the move, but in any case he was pressed back against the seat and their hands were all over each other. He felt another start when she climbed onto the seat, not breaking the kiss, and joined him in the driver's seat, sitting directly over him. In his lap. The space was so cramped that at first he didn't recognize her movements for what they were, and when he did he was shocked--she was hurriedly trying to pull down her underwear beneath her skirt, finally managing to get them off and flinging them to the side. He got an unmistakable feeling this time, and Brannon must have noticed it because before he could say anything she was undoing his pants.

Mulroy's eyes shot open and he tried to speak, but she was still kissing him, her tongue meeting his. When he tried to break away to tell her that this was a very bad idea she simply gripped his head again, preventing him from doing so. All that came out was a vague muffled sound which Brannon either didn't understand or chose to misinterpret as she brought herself over his lap again, straddling him on both sides. Against his bidding his heart sped up again, and with a surge of embarrassment and excitement he realized that he was fully hard--had been so since Brannon had started pulling at her clothes. He couldn't believe the situation he was in--Brannon and himself, together, in the front seat of a squad car. He just prayed that the sheriff would never hear about this!

Even as he thought this Brannon came down on him. He let out another, startled, noise; still kissing him, she began moving, her hips rolling hard against him, running her fingers through his hair. His body overrode what was going on in his head; as he shrieked inside that this was a very bad idea he took her head as well, his tongue darting into her mouth. She must have sensed the reaction as favorable as she started moving faster; Mulroy's hands trailed to her lower back and he was dimly aware that he was moving as well, thrusting up into her. The position was highly awkward as the steering wheel was directly behind her, inhibiting any excessive movement; yet the two of them struggled together in the small space, moving faster, she writhing on top of him and he grinding hard into her; as he felt himself growing hotter and beginning to ache he ran his hands up underneath her skirt, clutching her buttocks tightly, pressing her against him every time he thrust. Brannon broke away from his mouth, gasping and throwing back her head, her hair trailing down her back. Her fingers clawed his neck. He was breathing hard himself, and just hoped to God that she wasn't a screamer.

She continued riding him, he pumping up into her, until he suddenly felt his release; with a shocked gasp he jerked forward, pressing her back against the steering wheel, his hot fluid pouring inside her. Brannon's thighs pressed tightly against him and she gasped as well; in the back of his head Mulroy heard a dim Thank God! After a moment or two had passed he felt himself returning to his senses; he shook his head dazedly and was about to try and get her off of him when she did so herself, lifting herself carefully from him and collapsing back in the passenger's seat. For several moments they just sat there, panting; finally Mulroy let out a groan and leaned forward, thunking his head on the steering wheel.

Brannon glanced at him in surprise. "Mulroy?" It sounded as if he'd hit his head pretty hard. She shook his shoulder, growing alarmed. "Detective?"

He hissed through his teeth, his eyes squinched shut. "I can't believe we just did that," he muttered.

She stared at him for a moment, then shrugged, reaching down beneath the seat to retrieve her underwear. He didn't look at her as she put them back on. "Well, believe it. We just did."

He lifted his head now, only turning to look at her after he was certain that she was decent again. He suddenly realized that he wasn't, and with a flush of embarrassment reached down to tuck in and zip himself up. He glanced away. "God, that was a very bad idea..."

Brannon looked at him again, as if trying to determine whether he were dense or not. "Oh, come on, Detective," she said again after a moment; she using his title after what had just happened only made him flush harder. "It's not like anybody saw us."

"How do you know? If anybody did see us, I'm never going to work here again..."

"You wouldn't get fired," she said, smoothing out her clothes. "We've got the same rank."

Mulroy glared at her this time. "I wasn't talking about getting fired." He ran his hands down his face. "God, this is embarrassing."

She glanced at him a third time, and crossed her arms. "Well thank you. I found it enjoyable as well."

He stared at her for a moment, disbelief and irritation warring in his eyes, before opening the door and getting out, slamming it behind him, and stalking away, leaving her behind. He disappeared inside the main building.

Brannon sat in the car for a little while, staring after him; she finally sighed, looking in the mirror and brushing back her hair a little, and got out as well, following him.

Turning The Tables

She shrugged as she took a drink. "You have a nice dining room."

Mulroy just tipped his head slightly. She couldn't tell if he were uncomfortable with her being there or not. "I don't invite people over very much," he replied, also taking a drink and continuing eating. "So it doesn't get used too often."

"Your home is kind of small for a room like this."

This time he shrugged. "There's only me living in it."

Brannon nodded and took another drink. She didn't know what it was but something was turning her on again. She could barely keep herself from fidgeting; she wished that she could get away from the table without making an ass of herself. The only thing she could think of was being around him. That was how it had happened the first time. She usually wasn't the kind of person who would go at it in the front seat of a car but that was certainly how being with him had made her feel. She just hoped that he hadn't gotten the impression that that was the way she always was.

In his own words, that would be embarrassing.

She kept herself busy stabbing her fork at her plate, barely even touching the rest of her dinner. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed that Mulroy looked preoccupied too. Both of them were casting uncomfortable glances around the room. She could tell that he wanted to get out of there also.

God, this was a bad idea. He hates it as much as I do.

She guessed that it was time to end it, then.

Brannon stood up, setting down the fork. Only she did it so suddenly that the utensil skittered across the table. She flushed and reached for it as Mulroy stood up as well, just about knocking over his chair. "Sorry," she muttered, putting it back on the plate with a clatter. "I better get going. I'll help clean this mess up for you."

"You don't need to do that." He started picking up things, almost as if he didn't want her to touch anything.

"It's all right, Mulroy, I've cleaned tables before. Don't think it's some kind of insult to my pride to pick up a few dish--"

They both reached for her plate at the same time and he accidentally grabbed her hand instead. They both jerked away, staring at each other, but he didn't let go either. She was pretty sure that she looked as surprised as he did. Neither of them had calculated that move.

She wasn't sure which one of them started it this time--she felt that it was probably both of them--but again, before she knew it, they were kissing each other hard. Her heart was thumping wildly by now. That must have been why she--and he too--had been so eager to leave. Neither wanted to be the first to lose control.

As he kissed her, his tongue running along her teeth, their hands were all over. He fumbled with the buttons on her shirt; she tried to assist him. Both of them were moving too hastily to get much done properly. He finally resorted to ripping open her blouse, reaching behind her and pulling off her bra. She was too far gone to care, her hands on his neck. Mulroy took hold of her under her legs and hoisted her up onto the dining room table, the dishes slipping to the floor with a crash. Neither of them noticed. Brannon didn't let go of him as he joined her, still kissing her as he hurriedly undid his pants. Both of them were gasping by now; Brannon tried shirking off her skirt but he simply reached down and lifted it over her hips, yanking off her underwear. Eyes glazed, she brought his head down again. It felt like she was on fire. Was it simply the act itself, or the way that he'd made her feel? She had to admit that his apparent lust flattered her, especially when he was so cold on the job. The fact that the feeling was aimed toward her only flattered her more. That was probably one reason why she felt the same way.

As soon as he'd removed her underwear--throwing them aside to join the dishes on the floor--she raised her legs, wrapping her ankles around his. It was driving her crazy; why wouldn't he enter already? As if in response, he did so, grasping her hips and thrusting inward. Both of them let out their breath sharply. He kissed her neck, running his mouth over her shoulder as he pushed into her, again, and again. She threw back her head, running her hands up under his shirt; she couldn't help but think that how they were doing this was nothing but vulgar, like two wild animals in rut, but there was nothing that she could really do about it. That was definitely how it was. They were rutting.

God, he is driving me crazy!

The first time their privacy had been sheer luck, so it was good that they had gone fast, but this time was no different. Neither of them could control it. It was just something that happened. His hands ran over her breasts this time, though, his fingers raking at but not tearing her skin. Brannon untwined her legs and instead planted her feet on the table, knees bent skyward, pressing against him every time he moved. And he was doing so rapidly, plunging harder and deeper inside. He made a sound like a frustrated growl in his throat; she responded with a murmur of her own, taking his head in her hands. She understood his frustration. His chest was heaving, his heart thudding; inside her he was hard and throbbing, as she only grew tighter and tighter, arousing him more. There was nothing he could do but continue plunging inside, praying that she would give sometime soon before he lost it all. Which was going to be soon.

The table beneath her was slick with her sweat, even through her clothes. She was clutching his back; her nails sank in a little too deeply as she arched with a gasp and hiss. Mulroy let out a startled noise now, jerking slightly at the pain. She felt sorry for having hurt him but the feeling was almost immediately lost as he grabbed her hips again, running his hands underneath her to touch her buttocks as she moved beneath him. This time she let out a sound of surprise. He thrust harder, and harder, squeezing tighter each time; when his own fingers sank into her buttocks she broke away from him, crying out loud, not holding it back as she had the first time. Her thighs pressed right against his hips; he thrust and released inside her, and they let out their breath as he finished, both of them relieved and exhausted. Neither of them made any move for some time; they were just too tired. Brannon lay panting, and closed her eyes to try to get herself together. Mulroy had taken care of that nearly uncontrollable fire as he had before; she just hoped that she wouldn't lose control again. Twice was already more than enough. First in a car--now on the dining room table! She didn't know his parents, or if they were even alive, yet she had the feeling that they wouldn't approve of this behavior.

Mulroy lifted his head and looked down at her, still breathing heavily. She opened her eyes and looked back up at him. Neither of them was obligated to say anything to the other, that she knew, as neither of them had started this. Or more like both of them had. Nevertheless she could feel him running his fingers down the side of her face, his eyes devouring her features. He wasn't shallow; there was definitely more than just lust that she saw in his stare. She wondered if it was the same for her.

Shouldn't I know for sure?

He shook his head, and there was slight accusation in his eyes. "I don't know what you're doing to me," he murmured, studying her face and hair. His voice was still strained, his breathing hard. "You're driving me crazy."

"I think you just answered your own question," Brannon replied, surprised by the faintness of her own voice. She put a hand on the table and managed to raise herself slightly. Mulroy obliged her by getting up himself, though she still lay on the table, propping herself up on her elbows. He moved toward her again and brushed back her hair.

"I don't usually do this," he said.

She looked at him with a slight smile. "Do what?"

"This." He sat up now, shaking his head and throwing out his arms as if to indicate the room. He didn't seem as embarrassed as he'd been the first time, in the car; he seemed more insistent that she not find him crazy for falling for her again.

She snorted lightly through her nose and sat up all the way, swinging her legs off of the table. Mulroy got up as well, helping her retrieve her clothes. "Don't worry about it. Neither do I."

Now he snorted. Are we really so much alike? "You sure do do it a lot for someone who doesn't do it a lot."

She shrugged as she slipped on her bra. He didn't turn away from her this time. "You're one to talk." She glanced over her shoulder at him as she started putting on her shirt, doing up the buttons that were left. "You might want to see to yourself, too."

He didn't flush red as he straightened himself out. By the time she turned around the two of them were pretty presentable, if somewhat disheveled. They looked at each other for a moment, then her gaze fell to the floor, seeing the shattered dishes. His gaze followed.

Brannon fiddled her fingers, slightly uncomfortable. "I'm--sorry about that. I guess I maybe should have moved them first."

He shook his head and waved it off. "Didn't like that color anyway," he muttered.

She forced down a laugh; the moment was too awkward for that, and he didn't even seem to be joking. There was only one thing running through her mind as she looked at him again. Now what?

It had been good while it lasted, but what exactly were they supposed to do now that it was over? That was the hardest part.

She took a deep breath and let it out. Mulroy was looking at everything but her, unconsciously rubbing at the back of his neck. "Well." She had to take another breath, uncertain of what to say without sounding stupid. "I should probably be going now. It was--" She paused, almost panicked. It was what? It was good? Do you really want to leave saying dinner was good--?

He lifted his head and made eye contact before she could turn away. Immediately there was nothing she could do. The words stuck in her throat and all that she could do was move her mouth soundlessly. When she did manage to speak, nothing intelligible would come out. "--Uh--it was--I--"

They stared at each other.

Oh God, why is this so hard?

For a very long time neither of them spoke. She could see something falling apart inside him, though she wasn't sure what it was. She felt it falling apart inside her too, though.

"--I--" she said helplessly.

Mulroy finally cleared his throat, forcing an unconvincing smile. "It was--it was good." He shrugged and his own smile grew helpless.

He feels just as stupid as I do. God. She nodded a little. "Yeah. It was good."

He nodded back, still with that idiotic smile; then turned away, clearing his throat and rubbing the back of his neck again. All that they did was stand there.

Come ON Sandi, DO something! Leave, stay, talk a little--at least DO something!!

"--Uh," Brannon said, falteringly. He looked at her again, out of the corner of his eye. "It's--it's kind of late." She waved a hand at the air for no real reason; it just seemed the right thing to do. "And--well--this cold weather, my car's not working right--"

His eyes lit up slightly as he got what she was trying so awkwardly to say. "You should probably wait for it to warm up a little before you try starting it."

"Yeah." She nodded, rubbing her hands together as if cold. A pause. "It's not going to get warmer till the sun comes up." And she actually giggled.

The smile on Mulroy's face looked less idiotic now, more embarrassed, as if he'd been caught at something. He waved his own hand at nothing in particular. "You can stay here for a while, if you want."

Her heart thumped and she let go of her hands, all pretense falling away like a weight from her shoulders. She shook her head, not even bothering to hide her relief. "You have no idea how long I've been waiting for you to say that," she said, smiling back.

For a moment his own smile faltered. She wondered if that wasn't what he'd wanted to hear. Then it struck her that it was; he simply hadn't been expecting it. The smile he gave now was very slight, just the merest hint; there was something about it that made him look much younger than he was, almost like a teenager going out on his first date. He bobbed his head once. His throat was stuck so he couldn't say anything in response. Brannon continued smiling back, almost shy herself.

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This item is not looking for critique. It was written solely for entertainment's sake. Although a scene from a possibly longer story, it is complete in itself and unless otherwise stated there is not going to be any more of it written. Additional unrelated SCENES may be written, but single scenes themselves are complete as they are. So please do not expect more. If you are interested in reading the series which INSPIRED the scene, just look elsewhere in my portfolio and you should find something. (Use the "story codes" given in the scene headers. For example, "MI" = "Manitou Island" series.)

I am not looking for critique on grammar, spelling, style, sentence structure, flow, or the mechanics of writing. What I AM interested in is commentary on such things as characterization, plot, symbolism, theme, etc.--the deeper aspects of the story. I like to know if a scene is believable, if the characters are interesting, what you thought of how they interacted, if the writing evoked any emotions, things such as that.

Feel free to criticize, but just keep in mind that I'm working on more important projects and shared this just for fun and/or to illustrate character interactions, so I don't plan to revise it any time soon. Comments on the characters, theme, etc. are more than welcome.