Wednesday, August 13, 2008

Half Cocked. (Waking the Dead Fan Fic)

“Boyd, why don’t you just tell us this stuff? It’s so infuriating, because half the time I think you’re running around half-cocked, when actually you’ve got some ulterior motive…”
Mel managed to emphasize her point perfectly with the slamming of his office door.
‘Ah. But then I wouldn’t get to see you angry.’
‘And that would be bad because…?’
‘I like seeing you angry…..’
Oh God that lazy smile of his was begging to be slapped! Like seeing me angry, you’re not going to like it very much when I really loose my temper she thought. Audibly she settled for a disgruntled ‘Why?’
‘According to anti-discrimination laws, I’m not permitted to say…’

He looks at her from under his eyebrows..
‘If I were to tell you that I thought you are even more beautiful when you’re angry, that could be construed as sexual harassment.’
It took Mel some time to process the fact that Boyd, - irritating, condescending, petulant Boyd, - her boss, was telling her she was beautiful and admitting that it was sexual harassment. Holy Shhhhhh…. Realizing she was staring at him slack jawed and that such behaviour was not conducive to maintaining the credibility she had worked so hard to establish in their relationship, she swiftly clipped off a response
‘Yes it could. Or it could just be down to the speaker playing peacock.’
Too late. He had risen from his perch on the edge of the desk and was standing so close she could distinguish the stitching on his shirt collar. She could feel his breath across her brow and her eyelids fluttered closed at the prospect of his touch. She felt his smile as the lightest of kisses brushed her forehead, a strong hand lifted her chin and his eyes bore into hers before those same lips delivered a completely different kiss to her own mouth.

She came to, only to realise that not only was she on tiptoes, leaning against her boss with one hand clinging to his collar and the other systematically groping his chest, but that their noses seemed to be touching in an Eskimo echo of what had just passed. She swallowed hard and forced herself to leave his embrace.
Taking a step back she finally broke eye contact. Overriding all the sensible thoughts she knew were there, was an extremely blue fuzz. With small nodding ‘okay, right, fine’s she found her way to the door and managed to successfully locate the handle without a visible tremble.
‘Mmm-hmmm?’ She only dared half turn her head…
‘I never do anything half-cocked’.

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