[ ...of all the ways to solve this new problem, of all the things he could have done, this is the least expected. her mind is still reeling with questions as he loses his jacket, loosens his tie, and—
oh. no.
she realizes what he has planned as soon as the words leave his mouth. ]
Don't you d—
[ she's caught off guard by the all-too easy way he lifts her, sets her onto the table, and her mind reels with protests, with alternate plans that weren't this, but his face is far closer than she's used to it being, and given the severity of the situation, she's having trouble parsing out her thoughts. the next thing she's aware of, he's kissing her, and her brain just completely shortcircuits.
she can smell him — cologne and champagne and a hint of smoke — and the heat of his rough palm on her face, the pressure of his hand on her back, it's a whole mess of sensation she hasn't experienced in a long time, and certainly never with faraday. he's the last person she'd be doing this with (voluntarily, at least), and as much as she wants to just bite him and shove him off, she realizes that it's the easiest cover, the last thing anyone bursting into the room would want to question, but this is faraday.
make it convincing.
god. damn. it.
emma makes a soft sound — part grumble, part growl — but she reaches up, curls a hand in his unbuttoned shirt, the other finding his hair in a particularly rough grip (convincing, and also a little satisfying), and she finally kisses him back, pressing her lips to his and dragging him closer to her. it needs to look good, she tells herself, needs to really pass so that whoever sees them isn't going to ask too much of them — because isn't it embarrassing enough to interrupt a couple in the throes of...whatever it is they're doing in a dark, empty room? ]
no subject
oh. no.
she realizes what he has planned as soon as the words leave his mouth. ]
Don't you d—
[ she's caught off guard by the all-too easy way he lifts her, sets her onto the table, and her mind reels with protests, with alternate plans that weren't this, but his face is far closer than she's used to it being, and given the severity of the situation, she's having trouble parsing out her thoughts. the next thing she's aware of, he's kissing her, and her brain just completely shortcircuits.
she can smell him — cologne and champagne and a hint of smoke — and the heat of his rough palm on her face, the pressure of his hand on her back, it's a whole mess of sensation she hasn't experienced in a long time, and certainly never with faraday. he's the last person she'd be doing this with (voluntarily, at least), and as much as she wants to just bite him and shove him off, she realizes that it's the easiest cover, the last thing anyone bursting into the room would want to question, but this is faraday.
make it convincing.
god. damn. it.
emma makes a soft sound — part grumble, part growl — but she reaches up, curls a hand in his unbuttoned shirt, the other finding his hair in a particularly rough grip (convincing, and also a little satisfying), and she finally kisses him back, pressing her lips to his and dragging him closer to her. it needs to look good, she tells herself, needs to really pass so that whoever sees them isn't going to ask too much of them — because isn't it embarrassing enough to interrupt a couple in the throes of...whatever it is they're doing in a dark, empty room? ]
Mmn—