Fitz (undercurrent) wrote in cambioncity, @ 2012-08-12 23:25:00 |
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Entry tags: | farrah, farrah and fitz, fitz |
The Muppets are always the perfect way to apologise.
Who: Fitz and Farrah
What: Fitz is in the doghouse after cancelling/missing the last four dates. But bringing your girlfriend The Muppets can fix a lot of things.
When: Backdated to earlyish June
Where: Farrah's house
Warnings: NSFW Sexytimes once the Muppets aren't looking
Farrah had the evening off of work, and while Fitz had contacted her earlier concerning them spending some time together that evening, Farrah wasn’t really counting on it. He’d forgotten their last scheduled date entirely, and then rescheduled three times since. So, she hadn’t seen her boyfriend in a few weeks, and while she could admit to herself that she’d missed his presence in a few different ways, she was fully prepared to be annoyed with him, as he surely deserved. Especially if he cancelled on her, or forgot entirely again. She understood that things came up, she wasn’t entirely unreasonable, but she’d felt entirely shoved aside by him lately. And while that wouldn’t be a problem with most men, as Farrah didn’t usually give two shits, with Fitz it left her feeling a little... Rankled.
Gwen had made herself scarce, so when there was a knock on the door around the time Fitz said he’d be by, Farrah’s brows arched a little as she had to assume it was him. And if it was, she supposed that made the fifth time a charm, didn’t it?
She opened the door after peeking through the peep hole to make sure it was him, then took a step back to gesture him inside. “Hi Fitz,” she said, waiting until he was inside before shutting the door.
Fitz knew that he was in a lot of trouble with Farrah lately. Admittedly he was dreading her mood, but then again he wasn’t about to skip out on seeing her, because he missed her too. When he’d resurfaced from his work funk the other day, he’d realized that he hadn’t seen her. He’d talked to her, yes, but not spent real time with her. He also realized he hadn’t gone to the lake in over a week. He would remedy that next week, surely.
In any case, he needed a moment to breathe. And hopefully Farrah wouldn’t be angry with him the whole night, because that certainly wouldn’t be enjoyable or relaxing at all. Fitz had come prepared for battle.
Preparations for battle was arming himself with expensive cheese, sausage, olive oil bread, and an assortment of ridiculous condiments like sundried tomato from the delicatessen, tiramisu and strawberries, three bottles of wine, and a copy of the Muppets in deluxe blu ray format. But because he knew that money could not buy everything, underneath his leather jacket he was also wearing the t-shirt she had bought him and he had never worn because he felt scrawny in it. But she had loved the shirt and really, sacrifices had to be made for accidentally being an asshole.
He didn’t say anything at first when she let him in. She looked annoyed, still, but he couldn’t resist. He missed her. “I know you’re mad, but I need to hold you for a second before I apologise,” he said, putting the bags down and wrapping his arms around her. Technically, the hug was the best way for him to get his feelings out, rather than any big speech.
Farrah glanced down at the bags he carried when he walked in, but she made no move to investigate or find out what was inside. She wasn’t really interested in being plied with gifts just yet, as she would’ve preferred having her boyfriend around once or twice more than whatever he had in the basket, most likely, so they could get that out of the way later. She wasn’t going to pretend she would stay mad at him all night, as while she hadn’t liked his behavior it certainly wasn’t unforgivable and if he apologized that was really all she could ask for. Farrah had made a business out of knowing huge assholes, and that Fitz was not, at least not by default. Not that she’d seen yet, anyway.
Feminine pride refused to allow her to admit how much better just looking at him and smelling the familiar scent of him made her feel, but she’d missed him so terribly much, and missing someone wasn’t really something Farrah knew how to do all that well. She missed her mother in an entirely different way of course, though even that became awkward and stilted on the occasions when Farrah was allowed to talk to her on the telephone, as she didn’t like outright admitting to needing people, or being weak without someone.
So, when Fitz gave his little speech about needing to hold her for a second, she didn’t comment, though she certainly didn’t protest when she found herself pressed against him for a hug, nor did she bite back the urge to turn her face toward his neck and take a deep breath of him, smelling the leather of his jacket over the familiar, masculine scent of him. Her arms wound around his waist as she squeezed him in response. She’d missed him, and being annoyed by being shuffled around didn’t change that.
Fitz felt much better when he felt her hug him back, and also some tension between his shoulders that he hadn’t even realized was there before relaxed a bit. He was stressed, and he knew it, and having his relationship on the rocks worsened it. But he was going to work on setting that to rights tonight.
He was worried about her being angry, but from what Fitz knew of Farrah, she was at least always fair. The length of time she would be mad with him would, he knew, probably be the length he deserved. He rubbed his hand over her back, and breathed in the smell of her shampoo.
“I’ve missed you,” he sighed into her hair. “I know that’s my fault. I’m sorry about that.” He pulled away from her, knowing that if he wasn’t proactive he’d try to hold her like that forever, and pulled a bottle of wine out of one of the bags before pressing it into her hands. “If you go drink a glass of that, I’ll set up in the living room and begin attempting to redeem myself a little.”
Turning her head to kiss him felt almost too natural to ignore, though she refrained as she remembered that she was mad at him and he had not apologized yet, and if she started kissing him just then she’d likely keep kissing him, and they’d never get around to discussing their problems. Which, while that would be fine with most men, Farrah was actively interested in keeping this relationship going for a while.
“Alright,” she said, pulling back and taking the wine bottle from him to go pour herself and him a glass. She left his glass sitting on the kitchen counter, and moved into the dining room to wait since he’d said he’d take care of the living room. She wasn’t really sure what to expect, though if she were to be perfectly honest, a cuddle and a kiss and a sincerely worded apology would’ve likely broken her resolve to stay angry over such a small offense, and from the hug in the doorway he was already there.
Fitz didn’t really need to work in secret, but he figured closeting Farrah up with some wine couldn’t be a bad thing. He set everything up, pulling out all the food he had gathered. When he went into the kitchen to put the tiramisu in the fridge and grab plates and cutlery, he also retrieved his glass of wine.
Finished in the living room, Fitz wandered into the dining room, where Farrah was, as requested, sitting there and looking pretty (well, he didn’t ask for that, she just did it anyway. Such a good girlfriend.) “Alright,” he said, going down on one knee in front of her. He enjoyed performing some theatrics with Farrah if only because she never seemed to expect it from him, like his other girlfriends had. Likewise, they usually expected jewellery, and were often put out when he gave them something thoughtful instead, like the wrapped dvd he pressed into her hands. He put his hands on her knee and kissed the top of her leg. “I am sorry for being a rotten boyfriend for the past eighteen days,” he said. “You have full rights to confiscate my blackberry tonight.”
Farrah couldn’t hide her surprise when he got down on one knee in front of her, her brows arching instinctively and staying there until he’d gotten the apology out and pressed a wrapped box into her hands. She certainly hadn’t expected anything like this from him, and she bit gently at her bottom lip as she ripped into the wrapping paper covering her gift, then lit up at what was inside.
“Are those finger puppets?” She asked, tipping the box to look at the contents with a smile on her face, then looking back down at him. She sat the box aside, then cupped his face in her hands. “You weren’t the worst boyfriend in the world, though I was starting to suspect you were my imaginary friend as opposed to a real boy.”
“Farrah, I’m trying to apologise to you. Of course those are finger puppets,” Fitz said, in a serious voice. He turned to kiss at her palm, smiling a little bit, because he could see her reaction to the Muppets. “Would I try to buy your forgiveness with anything less?” He smoothed one hand down her leg, to gently massage the back of her calf.
“Muppet finger puppets aren’t a bad place to start,” she conceded with a slight nod. Like most children of the 80’s, Farrah had grown up on the show, maybe even more so than the average kid due to all the television she watched when she was very young, and she felt a very tangible and fond wave of nostalgia when she looked at what Fitz had brought her. She wasn’t sure what she’d do with the puppets, other than maybe sit them on top of liquor bottles or something for decoration. “Thank you for that. The Muppets are very special.”
“I know,” Fitz said, moving to carefully get up to his feet again. “Well,” he amended, not straightening up, but staying bent over so he could brush the tip of his nose over hers. “I thought you might like them, because you are a very amazing girl. And amazing girls know the importance of the Muppets.”
When he was that close, Farrah could hardly resist lifting her hand to smooth her fingers through his hair, having missed that particular sensation almost as much as she’d missed the rest of him. “You thought right,” she murmured, then tipped her head to kiss him. He didn’t have to bring her the muppets, but he had, and what girl worth the salt in her bread couldn’t love that? He surely deserved a kiss for being so thoughtful in that moment. “I missed you,” she murmured against his mouth in between kisses.
Fitz didn’t hesitate in kissing her, even if he wasn’t in the most comfortable of positions. But her lips were worth that, anyway. “I missed you, too,” he breathed, stroking his fingertips over her cheek and down the side of her neck. How could he have even managed to go without touching her for so long? When he was travelling it made sense, he was in another part of the country. But how had he done it when she was in the same city?
Farrah knew she had him in an awkward position, so after a moment she broke the kiss so she could stand up with him, wrapping her arms around his neck to press herself against him more fully and kiss him properly, when he wasn’t straining to keep his balance and hover at her sitting height. She bit gently at his bottom lip, smoothing her hands over his chest. “Try not to forget about me again, hm?”
Fitz meant to reassure her that he wouldn’t forget her, but all that came out was a murmur of agreement when he found himself kissing her again, but he figured that that was answer enough. He began to pull her towards the living room, though he made sure to pick up her wineglass, as well. Wouldn’t do to leave that behind. “Come on, I got us a picnic,” he said, nuzzling her hair.
Farrah remembered to grab up the box with the puppets and the movie, and tucked it beneath her arm as she let him lead her toward the living room. “A picnic?” She said, though she was still smiling. It was a cute idea, and Farrah enjoyed little things like that more than the super extravagant stuff that left her feeling awkward as there’d be no way she’d have the income to do anything even remotely close for him. “Aw, Fitzy.”
“I got us five types of cheese, it’s very exciting,” Fitz promised her, leading her in. He’d pushed everything aside except for the couch, so at least while they sat on the floor eating the spread, they could lean back against it, or climb onto it if they wanted something more comfortable. He helped her to sit before handing her her glass. “I just wanted an excuse to feed you with my hands.”
She stretched her legs out in front of her after sitting, tipping her head back to smile up at him. “Mmm, that sounds good,” she said with a nod. “Though you should put this in before you sit down,” she said, holding up the box. “And maybe take off your coat.”
“Ah, clever of you,” he said with a grin when she held up the dvd. He dutifully took it and moved to insert it into the blu ray player, setting the box aside before going back to the front hall for a moment to unzip his jacket and hang it up in the closet, which he’d been avoiding because even if he had worn the shirt for her he still felt rather unimpressive in it.
“Do you think three bottles of wine is enough for us?” he asked, returning to sit down next to her.
While he’d gone to hang up his jacket, Farrah leaned forward to snag the box and pull out the finger puppets, smiling at the quality and at how adorable they were in general. Weren’t all things Muppets precious, though? She certainly had to think so.
When he returned, she turned to speak though was stunned into silence when she saw what he was wearing. She’d bought that shirt for him, knowing the color and the cut would look delicious on him, but he’d never worn it. Now, she hoped he’d realized what a grave, horrible mistake he’d been making. “Jesus, Fitz,” she breathed when he sat down, dropping the finger puppets next to her so that she could slide her hand down over his stomach. “Unf.”
“Whoah, settle down,” he said, when Farrah changed in a second from childishly adorable with the puppets to a prowling maneater who’d just spotted dinner. He was too busy dealing with that to realize he was blushing faintly. “It’s just my stomach. You’ve seen it before.”
“On several occasions,” she agreed, though that hardly did little to detract from how attractive she found him right then. She was attracted to him all the time, obviously, and never more so than when they were naked, but as far as clothes went, that shirt was right up there with three piece suits, which was sayin something. “But my God. Should I not appreciate it now, just because I’ve seen it before?”
Her gaze shifted back up to meet his as she moved over to straddle his hips. He was blushing, which was cute and very Fitz-like.
Fitz could only assume she greatly appreciated how he looked in the shirt, but he was still surprised when suddenly she was climbing on top of him. He shifted, leaning back against the couch for support. “I suppose you haven’t seen it in weeks,” he allowed, though he wasn’t acting like a tiger in response to seeing her cleavage, himself. “You just startled me.”
He was looking alarmed and uncomfortable more than anything else, which was not the response a woman wanted from her boyfriend when she decided to pounce after weeks of not seeing him. So, Farrah nodded and shifted to climb back off of him and resume setting where she had been, and picked up her glass of wine. “Five different kinds of cheese, did you say?” She asked as she turned to look for the remote to turn the volume up. She figured the vast amounts of musical numbers in this movie should be heard at an appropriate volume.
He had been startled, that was all, since they’d started off so sedate. Not that Fitz was particularly innocent, but he did know he was something fuzzy and cuddly in comparison to the fierce creature he knew Farrah to be. And not a shocker, she was a were, after all. But that didn’t mean he’d wanted her to climb off of him, so when she did he slid his arm around her waist to make sure she didn’t go far.
“Five. And olives and sundried tomatoes and caviar,” he said, picking up his own glass of wine. “There’s a shop downtown I go crazy in every time I’m in there. I tried to keep the menu basic, and failed.”
Farrah was feeling slightly awkward, as anyone did when their pouncing was met with the sort of look that indicated he was alarmed or thought she was being inappropriate or crazy as opposed to thrilled that she might unzip his pants with her teeth, so she wasn’t really sure what to do as far as physical contact went, or what to say now that it’d happened, so she just pretended it hadn’t lest she overthink it and wind up getting embarrassed. She’d always had trouble with passion, in all its forms, and it’d led her to making hasty or irrational decisions.
“Oh, that sounds good,” she said with a nod. “Caviar. Wow. I don’t think I’ve ever had caviar, so this will be a proper new experience. And to the tune of the Muppets! Surely that’s a first. I don’t think I’ve ever even seen it in the store, though I doubt they stock it next to cans of tuna at Walmart, huh.”
Fitz noticed, and now he felt bad that he hadn’t reacted a bit more swiftly to her. Surely she should know that no matter how much she surprised him, her affections were never unwelcome? He reached for the remote, muting the menu screen and then turning the tv off, but leaving the player on. He was not about to shock the Muppets, in the part of his brain that made childhood figures real.
“You come back here,” he said, disregarding her rambling as he pulled her back towards his lap.
Farrah allowed herself to be tugged back toward him as resisting would just be silly and seem petulant, and once she was in his lap again she braced her hands on the couch behind him. She hadn’t intended to make him feel bad, or like he had to do something to appease her when the movie and the picnic were really enough, she’d just mostly felt awkward on account of herself, and the social cues she still sometimes missed when it came to men and relationships just because she’d never had a real, legitimate one before.
“It’s going to be hard for you to see the muppets through me,” she told him. “I don’t make a great window.”
“I’m quite fond of the fact you’re not the Invisible Woman,” Fitz said. He ran his hands over her thighs, though didn’t tug her against him. He wasn’t going to try to reassure her by pawing at her; he was just going to pay attention to her, first, for a little bit, instead of a movie. That was only right, after all. “They have a pause button,” he added. “And you’re higher priority.”
“Ah, I see,” Farrah said with a slight nod, smoothing her hair behind her ears then moving her hands to rest them loosely on her thighs. She wasn’t going to attempt pawing at him again, so she just stayed as she was and was slowly forcing herself to settle down, as he’d told her to do a few minutes ago. “I’m not sure if invisible women actually exist, though I suppose in this day and age it’s entirely possible. Sort of like a Were Preying Mantis. Anyway, if they did, it’d be convenient for movie watching and simultaneous lap time.”
“I’m more than happy to do one at a time,” Fitz said, with a shrug. He reached up to smooth a hand around the back of her neck, fingers slipping into her hair. He pulled her down close enough for him to kiss her again, lightly at first, before he pressed his lips more firmly to hers. He wondered if he could get that feisty side of Farrah to come out and play again. Now that he was thinking about it, he was kicking himself for not taking advantage of it sooner. “Not interested in preying mantises,” he said against her lips. “Only in foxes.”
Farrah allowed herself to be pulled in for a kiss, one hand lifting from her thighs to sink into the hair at the nape of his neck again. “Foxes are cuter than preying mantises,” she murmured in reply. “And less likely to kill their mate. So, I’d say you’d fare better with one in the end, as long as you don’t have a hen house.”
“If I had a hen house, you could have it,” Fitz murmured, nibbling on her bottom lip. He massaged his fingertips gently against the back of her neck, smoothing down a bit lower to feel the tension in her muscles. “Sorry, Farrah,” he mumbled, in a quick change of subject. “I hadn’t realized my stomach warranted that reaction. I’m doing a piss-poor job at not being a headcase tonight.”
It hadn’t been his stomach so much as it’d been an accumulation of a few weeks of not seeing him or touching him or being touched by him that had lead her to crawling into his lap before, though seeing how attractive he looked in that shirt had certainly been a catalyst, as she was confident any woman who had such a handsome man at her fingertips that was theoretically hers to touch and kiss and climb around on would do the same. At his apology, she smoothed her hand down over his neck and rubbed at it gently. “You don’t have to apologize,” she murmured. “Your reaction was instinctive, as was mine, and I can respect that. We just had different instincts.”
“I do have to apologise, I feel very sorry for it,” he told her, with a faint, teasing smile on his face. It probably had been the shirt; Fitz realized that if Farrah had been wearing the hot girlfriend equivalent, he might have done the exact same thing. Well, perhaps not quite so soon. “I’m kicking myself a bit now, actually.”
Farrah shrugged gently, tracing her fingertips lightly along his jaw. He was always so smooth shaven, always so well put together, it made him so attractive to her, who could not seem to get all her shit ever in one pile. “You don’t have to feel bad, as you feel how you feel, Fitzy,” she told him. “I’m sure you’re not the first man in the history of ever that didn’t want to be climbed on and pawed at. I can respect it. I’m not entirely a mindless animal, even if I react that way sometimes. I blame it on spending a lot of time as a fox these past few weeks.”
“No, that’s not it,” Fitz murmured, because she didn’t seem to get it, and he hoped she wasn’t getting the impression he was trying to fake something to make her feel better. He didn’t feel bad about possibly upsetting her; he regretted not spurring her on. He tipped his head to the side to nibble lightly at her earlobe. “I’m sorry I dropped the ball. I always regret missed opportunities. I’m hoping you’ll give me another one again. Hopefully very soon.”
Farrah wasn’t really sure, even then, what her plan had been earlier when she climbed in his lap. She hadn’t exactly had the intent to fuck him right where he sat, though she hadn’t been able to bite back the urge to kiss him and touch him and explore him a bit more thoroughly and logic told her it’d have likely brought them to that point eventually. It was a very animalistic response, something she sometimes couldn’t help, and it was hardly the first time it’d gone awry. “Whatever you want,” she breathed softly, tipping her head to the side to enable his mouth on her ear.
Fitz shook his head against her neck, kissing the spot just above her pulse. Then he pulled away, settling his back against the couch again. He supposed he couldn’t coerce her into being anything besides what she wanted to be right then, and he was alright with that. But he had a feeling she still didn’t get it, at least not the heart of the matter, which had little to do with their small misunderstandings and sometimes awkward moments. “Farrah,” he said, with a little smile, picking up one of her hands to stroke her palm with a fingertip, rubbing her fingers a bit with his own, “Whatever you want. Don’t you know I’m yours?”
Farrah smiled at that, as what woman wouldn’t be endeared by such a thing? She leaned in to rest her forehead against his as she moved her hands to rub over his shoulders. “I think I made it pretty obvious what I want earlier,” she murmured, rubbing the tip of her nose against his in an idle, affectionate nuzzling movement.
“That you did,” Fitz said, closing his eyes for a moment when she leaned in. He smoothed his hands around her waist, linking his fingers together at the small of her back. “I need to work on being as obvious as you, I think. And to figure everything out sooner. Your boyfriend is a bit of an idiot,” he whispered into her ear, before dragging his teeth over it.
She supposed it would just have to be something that she puzzled out with Gwen Sex and the City-sytle later, as she thought his reaction had been plenty obvious in nature, though now he was telling her that wasn’t what he’d meant at all. And they said women were the confusing ones. Still, his teeth on her ear was entirely distracting, and she pressed herself back against him, pushing her chest tight against his. “Maybe just some clarification,” she said teasingly in his ear, biting softly at the spot on his neck just beneath it. “Like when you look at me like I’m a crazy person and tell me to settle down, what you really mean is that you like it and want more. Otherwise, I tend to take reactions like that at face value.”
Fitz laughed, but due to the teeth on his neck the sound came out a bit throaty. “Darling,” he said, smoothing his hand over her back. “Don’t be ridiculous. No man actually means that, unless he’s a complete asshole. Besides,” he added, nibbling on her earlobe. “I was looking at you in surprise. And I like being surprised.”
“Oh, is that what it was,” she murmured, smiling against his neck even as she moved to sink her teeth into the flesh there and suck on it a bit. He tasted delicious all over, the salt of his skin lingering on her tongue in a way she was certain she’d never experienced before. “That’s where the confusion is, then.”
“I hope your other boyfriends didn’t make the same mistakes I did,” Fitz murmured with a grin, though he shivered under the push of her teeth and the wetness of her mouth. Or if they did make those mistakes and never rectified them, then, well, not Fitz’s problem.
Farrah pulled back from his neck enough to look at him, shrugging a bit as she gently ran her fingertips over the spot of wetness and red skin that her mouth had left behind on his neck. “They made lots of horrible mistakes,” Farrah told him, her gaze shifting up from his neck to his face and a small smile tipping her mouth. “That’s why they’re exes.”
“Horrible mistakes, huh?” Fitz said, shifting a little bit underneath her. he moved one hand to her thigh, carefully tracing spiralling patterns on her leg with a fingernail. “How horrible? Like reschedule a date three times? Because if so, I hope you gave them a piece of your mind.”
Farrah snorted, shaking her head a bit and smoothing her hair back again. “No, not that horrible, of course not. Just the standard putting their penis in places they should not.” She leaned forward and rested her elbow on the couch behind him, propping her cheek in her hand. “That sort of horrible.”
“Ah,” Fitz said, leaning his head back a bit to maintain eye contact with her. He smoothed his hand over her back, between her shoulder blades. He couldn’t imagine anyone cheating on Farrah, and not just because he had fallen for her. He felt like she was a girl that should inspire honesty. “Then turning them into exes was a wise choice.”
“I thought so,” Farrah said with a nod, though breaking up with them had been the least of those boys’ problems by the time she was finished. Not that she was going to say that. “You know how people can be.” She could feel the skirt of her dressed bunched up around her thighs, pushed back by the way she’d straddled him when he pulled her into his lap, though she liked it, if only because it exposed more of her to being pressed against him.
Fitz shifted and leaned up to press his mouth to hers in a light kiss. “I know how people should be,” he said, with a faint smile. “They should be more like you.”
Farrah laughed outright at that, though she controlled herself enough to kiss him in response. “Right. Now you’re just being silly,” she said with a shake of her head.
“I am,” Fitz agreed, because he probably was. He folded his arms around her, pulling her close into a hug, and kissed her on the mouth and then her forehead. “But that’s because you make me silly. Should we watch some Muppets now?”
“Sure, if you’d like,” Farrah said, shifting to climb back off of his lap and take her former seat on the floor, picking up her wine glass. “I think you have the remote.”
Fitz searched around for it, locating the remote and turning the tv back on and the volume up before hitting ‘play’. “I should have taken you to see this one in theatres,” he remarked, leaning over to press a kiss to her shoulder before reaching to assemble some of their food together. “I went on a man date with Dex instead and he shed many a man tear.”
“Did he,” Farrah said, amused as she settled in against the couch and turned her attention toward the movie, bringing her knees up to her chest so she could rest her chin upon them. “That’s unsurprising. I hear it’s always the big ones that react that way. Though I can’t promise I won’t cry, depending upon what happens.”
Fitz ate an olive before beginning to assemble an open-faced sandwich with sausage, two cheeses, and sundried tomatoes, giving it over to Farrah. “You haven’t seen this one yet?” he asked. “I’ll be very quiet, then.”
“I downloaded it, but never got the chance to watch it,” Farrah said with a nod. “Though you don’t have to be quiet. It’s not a movie like Lost in Translation or Mullholland Drive where you have to pay attention to everything to understand what’s going on.” She smiled at him and took the sandwich. “This looks delicious. Thank you.”
“I meant I won’t spoil anything that happens. Like the really tragic character death,” he said, winking and bumping his shoulder against hers before picking up his wineglass for a drink. “Or the sex scene. I’ll just let them surprise you as they appear.”
Farrah snorted a laugh and shook her head. “I’m betting it’s between Piggy and Kermit, if that’s the case. Piggy gets carried away, too. Always leaping about. Or maybe Beaker and what’s his face, just because I think it’d do Beaker a whole world of good to get laid sometime. It might settle his nerves down a bit.” She pointed her finger at him. “Muppets can’t die. But I’m positive they can have sex.”
Fitz laughed. “I’m sorry I even joked about it, because now you’re starting to mortify me a little,” he said. “And Beaker’s nerves will never settle. If a woman removed her top for him he would scream hysterically until he set himself on fire.”
“Excellent point,” Farrah said with a nod, taking another bite of her sandwich and leaning back against the couch to stretch one leg out in front of her, her wine glass loosely held in her other hand and balanced on her leg. She watched the movie for a bit, smiling because the new Muppet, Walter, really was cute. “Are there really Muppet studios?” She asked after a moment. “I’d like to take the tour, if there is.”
“I actually do not know,” Fitz said, thinking about it. “We’ll have to look into it, because I’d like a tour as well. Universal Studios gets old.” He picked up the wine bottle and refilled both of their glasses, before going back to eating a mixture of bread, olives, and cheese. “Then we could go look at rolls of production wire.”
“I’d have to sneak into Kermit’s office,” Farrah said. “In only the hopes that I’d get to see Waldorf and Statler just walking around and hanging out. They’d undoubtedly be unimpressed with me, but I’d feel like I just met my heroes.”
Fitz grinned. “They’re unimpressed with everyone,” he said, offering her an olive. “I want to say they’d secretly like you but we both know that it’s a lie.”
“You’re probably right,” Farrah said, leaning in to take the olive from his fingertips by closing her lips around them, then leaning back as she chewed. “Aww,” she said out loud when Kermit walked down the hall of his house, singing sad songs to the muppet pictures. She figured that her hormones must be seriously out of whack, as she couldn’t help but wibble for a moment. “Now I’m crying like Dex.”
“You’re crying is better than Dex’s. It’s dignified,” Fitz assured her. He snuggled close, leaning in to kiss her temple. She was horribly adorable, but at the same time he still felt like a crying Farrah was upsetting. Then again, Fitz turned to mush every time Kermit and Piggy did their duet. “You can cry as much as you want. It’s the Muppets.”
Farrah smiled at him, wiping at her cheeks as she turned to kiss his cheek, then press her face into his neck. “It’s the curse of childhood nostalgia, I think. You should’ve seen me at the end of Where the Wild Things Are when they remade it a few years ago. And to this day I weep through the Neverending Story nearly from start to finish.”
fitz was overcome with the urge to kiss Farrah all over her face, or at least her cheeks, but he’d eaten way too many olives for that. So he made do with freshening up with a bit of wine before he actually kissed her face. “That’s just the way it is,” Fitz agreed. “Don’t feel bad. I cry at everything anyway, childhood nostalgia or no.”
“I’ve never seen you cry before,” she said, tipping her head back to look at him, but still keeping it on his shoulder. “That’s really cute, Fitzy. I cry over movies a lot. And commercials for insurance and humane societies and the like.”
“I try not to do it in public,” Fitz admitted, wrapping an arm around her waist so she could comfortably lean against him. “I believe people think it is unmanly.” Then again, Fitz being emotional meant he didn’t just cry, he also screamed and raged and was sickeningly cheerful. Usually best to keep a lid on it.
“Meh, fuck ‘em,” Farrah said, smiling at the television screen again as she watched for a few minutes more. “Miss Piggy cannot believe she fell for the Muppet Man, but Emily Blunt did too, so I don’t think it shows a flaw in her character.”
“You have to try hard to get one past Emily Blunt,” Fitz agreed, with a nod. “I’d probably fall for Muppet Man, too, but I’m more gullible than those two girls anyway.”
Farrah sipped at her wine, properly endeared by the movie as she was convinced anyone who thought it was lame had to be without a soul. She might be a horrible person most days, but she did still have that. “I admit, I think several of these muppets are tragically underused. Especially Waldorf and Statler. They were always some of the funniest parts of the show, and the other movies. I guess that’s my only real complaint.”
“I know. I thought they did amazingly as part of the ship in Muppet Treasure Island,” Fitz agreed. “I always loved Kermit, though. I’m very impressed by his leadership abilities. And how he snagged the biggest diva of them all.”
“Kermit is very earnest,” Farrah said with a nod. “Very sweet and adorable, so I can rightly believe he’s Miss Piggy’s preferred preferably. She could never have herself a man who is exactly like her, as two divas wouldn’t jive. There has to be balance.”
“Truer words were never spoken,” Fitz said. He took a slice of cheese and a piece of sausage, and ate them simultaneously without bothering with any bread. “I wish I could travel by map,” he sighed. “Everything would go a lot more quickly. Business trips wouldn’t be such a headache.”
“Wouldn’t it, though,” Farrah said with a nod. “Everything would be easier muppet-style, I guess, though that’s probably why they’re so magical.” She leaned forward to assemble herself another sandwich, and leaned back against the couch when she was done, shifting her feet so they didn’t fall asleep. “If they sing Rainbow Connection, I might cry again.”
“Hmm,” Fitz said, since he knew they would sing that, and just draped his arm around her again. He was comfortable just sitting like that, propping his chin or laying his cheek on top of her head while they watched. For a moment he just thought about how glad he was that he could date someone like Farrah, who could appreciate something that wasn’t expensive and glittery, like the Muppets. Too many people like that, in his world. He knew he was a shrewd businessman and not an artist, but he had enough soul to recognize the sacred things in life.
“Awww, it’s Sheldon,” she said, her smile brightening. “How adorable is that? Jim Parsons is such a cute little gay man. I wish I could be muppetized. But then again, I’d probably look too similar to what’s her face. Janine? I feel awful when I don’t remember their names. The blonde muppet from Electric Mayhem.”
Fitz had to puzzle over that one for a moment. “Jan... ice?” he hazarded. “I think. You’d be a cute little muppet, though. You’d be a blonde fox. Since, you know, usually you’re a foxy blonde.” That made total sense to him. “I’d probably be something like a grasshopper.”
“You’d be something far cuter than a grasshopper,” she told him, nudging him gently. “Something with big, Precious Moment eyeballs, since you have those in real life.” Farrah wasn’t really sure how a group of chickens singing Cee Lo could be so amusing, but she was certain that Beaker was the best part of the barbershop quartet. Then of course the curtain went up and Kermit was playing the banjo, and Farrah sighed heavily. “I haven’t cried this much over a movie since Warrior.”
Fitz took advantage of the moment by wrapping his arms around her and giving her a squeeze while Kermit sang. The song unfortunately hit him right where he was vulnerable, but if he was pressing his cheek to Farrah’s hair and not saying anything she wouldn’t see his tears or hear the hitch in his voice anyway. How could puppets do romance so well? There were dozens of actors who were paid heaps of money who couldn’t even kiss believably.
“Awww,” Farrah said again when the song was over and Kermit and Miss Piggy kissed, wiping at her face before she turned her head to press a kiss to Fitz’s cheek. If he was crying she wasn’t going to comment on it, as she weeped openly over kids movies on a regular basis, so she wasn’t one to judge. “Thanks for buying this for me, Fitzy.”
Fitz turned his head to nuzzle her hair. “You’re welcome,” he murmured. He was glad he could give her something that would please her this much, especially after how he had treated her over the past couple of weeks.
When the movie went off, Farrah sat forward to grab the remote and stop the DVD, then turned her head to smile at him. “That was ridiculously good. Stupidly good. Instant favorite.” She picked up the Kermit finger puppet and sat it on the top of the wine bottle. “There,” she said. “I’ll find a proper way to display these yet.”
Fitz grinned at the puppet, then moved to kiss her on the cheek. Her skin tasted salty from her tears. “I think that might be the best way to display them,” he said. He reached forward, beginning to wrap some of the food up. There was quite a bit left even though they’d been picking away at it for the entire movie. “I brought dessert, too,” he said. “But we might have to digest a bit more.”
“Did you,” Farrah said, her head tipping as she looked toward the baskets. “What’d you bring?”
“Tiramisu. And strawberries if you didn’t feel like tiramisu,” he said, stopping to eat another olive (he normally thought olives were fine, but he really loved the ones at the delicatessen) before continuing. “They’re in the fridge. Shall we open another bottle of wine?”
“Oh, that sounds delicious,” Farrah said with a nod. She’d never had such delicacies given to her so casually before, but she supposed that was all a part of having Fitz as a companion. “Wine sounds good. Might as well get a little drunk, right?”
“I’ll need to drink faster if you want me drunk,” Fitz teased. He’d been sipping sedately, so he was far and away from inebriated. Farrah had witnessed firsthand just how much he needed to get drunk. “And it’s good tiramisu. Made with the right liqueur and everything.”
“Nice,” Farrah said with a smile, pulling her knees up to her chest and resting her cheek on them again as she looked at him. She wasn’t really sure what to do then, so she gestured toward her DVD rack with one hand. “Do you want me to put in another movie?”
Fitz smiled. “If you want to watch something,” he said. He would mind a movie, or background noise, or silence. He just wanted to pack the food up and then sit with Farrah and hold her, because he missed being able to do that. Ever since he had first started dating her, before they’d even slept together, he’d loved just having her in his arms.
“Not really,” Farrah said with a shrug. The muppets was the sort of movie that stood just fine on its own, and Farrah didn’t think she had the attention span to sit through another movie. She wasn’t sure what his plan was, though with some lingering awkwardness from earlier she didn’t feel right just climbing into his lap unannounced again. “We could always play with the finger puppets, though I’m shit at doing voices. I could maybe do Beaker, but they didn’t make one of those. Sad.”
Fitz smiled a little, vaguely embarrassed before he even started speaking. “I can do voices,” he admitted, bagging a few more things. He stacked the plates and cutlery and stood up, heading for the kitchen. “But I won’t, because you’ll never take me seriously again.”
“What sort of voices?” Farrah said with a laugh, shifting her weight to climb up onto the couch and tuck her legs up beside her as she watched him walk toward the kitchen. She thought about helping him, but he’d already grabbed everything. “I might like the voices.”
Fitz rinsed the dishes off in the sink and stuck them in the dishwasher. “Kermit,” he called, grabbing another bottle of wine and taking it back to the living room. “Gonzo. Fozzie. Animal, but I need to be really drunk.”
Farrah tipped her head back and laughed. “That’s sort of awesome, Fitzy. I have trouble even mastering Fozzie’s accent, so hats off to you on that one.” She smiled. “Maybe you’ll get drunk tonight, and then you can show me with one of the puppets, hm? “
In answer, Fitz opened the wine bottle. “More wine for that,” he said, pouring both of them a fresh glass. He set it aside and, after having made sure everything was correctly packed up and refrigerated, he went and joined her on the couch.
“More wine is always a good plan,” she said with a nod, settling back into the cushions and picking up her glass. “I haven’t had the chance to get drunk in weeks.”
“Poor girl. That why I’m here, I guess.” He leaned back a bit, reclining on the couch, and tugged her closer, smoothing his hand over her arm. “Have you been busy?”
“Not really,” she said with a shrug. “Same old, same old. I just haven’t had the chance to sit down and focus on getting drunk, I guess. Always distracted by something else.”
Fitz took a drink of his wine, setting the glass down and moving his hand to her hair instead. He began sliding his fingers through, slowly untangling a few snarls. Her hair was, as usual, light and soft to the touch. “I’ll try not to be a distraction.”
“You’re welcome to be distracting,” she said, her lashes fluttering shut when he moved to work his fingers through her hair. “I’d rather have you than be drunk at any point. Welcome distraction.”
Fitz continued to smooth his fingers through her hair, sometimes running his fingertips over her scalp. He was always more than happy to just touch her, and listen to her breathing, and feel the warm press of her body. He leaned down to kiss her temple. “Sweet of you,” he murmured, in a tone that wasn’t sarcastic.
“I’m greedy and animalistic, remember?” Farrah said, her lashes fluttering open just a bit to look at him. She wasn’t sleepy or anything of that nature, just more than a little pleased by what he was doing with her hair. “It makes me tactile. Very tactile.”
“I know, I know. I love it,” Fitz said, softly. He lifted her hair and set it over her shoulder, his other hand tracing a fingernail down the back of her neck before starting to draw soft, swirling patterns on her back through the clothing.
“Mmm,” Farrah hummed lightly, shifting so that she could nuzzle at his neck as he worked his fingertips over her her skin. “Oh Fitzy,” she sighed, one of her hands lifting to rub gently at the back of his neck.
Fitz leaned forward, propping his chin on her shoulder, his hands moving further down her back, then up again, sometimes rubbing, sometimes just making those ticklish patterns with his fingertips.
Farrah shifted her cheek on his shoulder, facing out from his neck, and took a deep breath. What he was doing was nice and relaxing, occasionally making her shiver when he brushed just so over a certain spot on her back, but otherwise she was still, letting him do as he wished.
After some time Fitz finished, and slid both hands around her waist. “Relaxed?” he asked, pressing his lips to her neck. “I could give you a proper back rub, if you want.”
Farrah smiled. “Maybe later,” she murmured, as there was no way she was going to turn down a back rub ever, but she wasn’t sure it was what she wanted right then. “How long are you planning on staying?”
“I was hoping until tomorrow morning,” Fitz said, after a moment of thought, wondering if he was being presumptuous after she had been annoyed with him, and then the debacle on the floor earlier. “But I can get out of your hair before then, if you like.”
“Of course I want you to stay,” she murmured. “I told you earlier, I made it quite obvious what I want. I just didn’t know if you had to get back to work or whatever. Just making sure. You’re a busy, in-demand man.”
“Well, that might be true,” Fitz said, “But you outstrip everyone else when it comes to demands.” Which actually hadn’t been the case over the past two weeks, apparently, but when he was snuggled with her on the couch it was an easy thing to believe. “And you made it obvious only before I dropped the ball. You’ve been demure ever since.”
Farrah had to chuckle at that, turning her face into his neck. “Because I tried once and failed,” she told him. “So I made it obvious what I want, you know where I’m at, so it’s up to you to make it obvious what you want now, dear sir. I don’t think my ego could take another missed pouncing attempt, you see. We foxes are proud creatures.”
“I’m so confused,” Fitz bemoaned, nosing at her hair. “Why do we have to talk all the time like functioning adults? It’s all beyond me.” He searched for and nibbled at her ear. “Oh, Farrah. I told you I liked surprises. You just need to give me time to catch up. Nothing to do with your pride. Foxes are silly creatures.”
“What are you confused by?” She asked, laughing into the material of his shirt. “My attempt at seduction, however barbaric, failed. Therefore, it’s your turn now, should you decide that’s what you want.” She walked her fingertips up his arm and smoothed them around his neck and into his hair. “We are silly creatures, you’re right. And what did you mean, give you time to catch up?”
Fitz tightened his arms around her and shifted, pulling her down with him as he moved to stretch out on the couch, her back to his chest. “When you climbed on me earlier,” he said, sounding amused. “I was sitting there wondering what had possessed you. I don’t ever expect to inspire that in women, you know. It took awhile to connect the dots. Was it the shirt?”
“The shirt was a catalyst,” Farrah said with a nod, curling up on her side where he had placed her against his chest. “Though I think it came mostly from not seeing you for however many weeks, or getting to touch you, or do anything like that. Then you showed up wearing something I found achingly sexy, and saying you missed me too, so I figured climbing into your lap would be well received. Or, my libido and I were hoping, anyway, because that shirt is like a dirtier version of the three piece suit.”
Fitz chuckled into her hair. “I feel like I’m in middle school in this shirt,” he said. “That’s why I never wear it. Maybe it’s the schoolboy version of the three piece suit.” He ran his hand over her arm, smoothing his palm over her skin, before reaching down to lace his fingers with hers.
“Maybe so,” Farrah said with a nod, though she’d never seen a middle school boy that inspired such desires in her, even when she’d been at that age. She twined her fingers with his when he moved to do so and took a deep breath, feeling him warm against her back. “It certainly didn’t make me respond to you like you were in middle school, though,” she murmured over her shoulder at him. “I don’t usually pounce on preteens that way.”
Fitz ran the pad of his thumb over her palm, breathing in the scent of her hair. “I would hope not,” he murmured. “I don’t need any more competition as it is.” He lifted her hand, kissing her palm and then her fingers.
Farrah turned her head to watch him kiss her fingertips, her breath going shallow for a moment before she twisted her wrist to twine her fingers in his hair and pull his mouth forward for a kiss, deepening it immediately and lingering, despite the way their bodies had to twist to do so. “You don’t have any competition,” she murmured against his lips.
Fitz wordlessly shifted, propping himself up on one elbow so he could lean over and kiss her more fully. “Good,” he murmured against her lips. He let go of her hand to stroke her hair out of her face. “I don’t want any.”
“You certainly won’t be getting any from the preteen crowd,” she murmured with a faint smirk, leaning back in to bite gently at his bottom lip, her fingertips working against his scalp. “I can promise you that, young Fitzwilliam.”
Fitz grinned. “Younger by four days,” he teased. He smoothed his hand over her stomach, pulling away from her mouth so he could press kisses to her neck.
“Four days can make all the difference, hm?” She murmured, her lashes fluttering as she tipped her head to the side to expose more of her neck to him, her fingertips still gently working through his curls. “I’m nearly too old for you without venturing into puberty territory.”
Fitz made a sound of agreement against her neck, feeling a little shiver down his spine while her fingers continued to tug gently at his hair. He pulled away before his elbow started complaining too much for him leaning on it all the time, and tugged gently on her skirt, indicating that she should roll towards him.
Farrah moved positions on the couch as soon as he’d tugged on her hip, indicating she could roll over to face him. She pushed her hair over her shoulders, allowing it to hang off the edge of the couch as she tucked herself against him and pressed her mouth back to his. Farrah liked kissing very much, and though the sizes of their mouths and lips were drastically different, she especially loved kissing Fitz.
Fitz settled down on the couch, wrapping an arm around Farrah as soon as she turned around and was facing him. He eagerly pushed his lips to hers, feeling like he was kissing her for the first time that night in a way that wasn’t comforting or conciliatory.
Farrah made a low noise of contentment as he settled against her and began kissing her back in earnest, her lashes fluttering as his tongue worked between her lips, allowing the taste of his mouth and the wine they’d both been drinking to linger. Her hand slipped from his hair to run down over his arm to his stomach and then back up to his chest, feeling him through that shirt as she’d wanted to all night.
Fitz tipped his head to the side to deepen the kiss, his tongue sliding over hers. He rubbed at her back before smoothing his hand down over her hip, rumpling the fabric of her skirt, before going down further until he touched the bare skin of her leg. He hooked his hand around her calf to bring her leg up a bit, fingertips gliding up over her calf before stroking the back of her knee.
Farrah lifted her leg, scooting her hips forward so that she could drape it over his thighs, bringing her even closer to him in the process. She could smell nothing but him, the familiar shape of the couch beneath her made different by the weight of his body pressing against hers and the way his mouth tasted. She made a soft noise and continued kissing him, the fingertips of one hand idly running over his chest while the other framed his jaw.
When she draped her leg over him he smoothed his hand up over the back of her thigh before settling on the curve of her ass, her skirt bunching up in the process. He loved touching her and no matter what Dex may scoff about how sturdy she looked she was never anything but soft and feminine beneath his hands. He sucked on her bottom lip, tasting wine still.
She slid her hand down over his side, feeling him lean and lithe beneath her fingertips and making another soft noise. He always went on about how he looked like a little kid in certain articles of clothing, including the one he was wearing just then for her, but Farrah adored his body, and found nothing childish about it at all. He didn’t have the bulk that someone like Dex did, no, but he was lean and solid, and she thought wearing the shirt that displayed it a little bit was more than enticing. “I love this shirt on you,” she told him again between kisses. “Promise me you’ll wear it again. But only when we’re together.”
He felt goosebumps prickle to life down his back at the touch of her hand, and he licked at the corner of her mouth. “Yeah?” he asked, softly. He supposed he could do that for her, if she liked it so much. Besides, if it was just for her he didn’t have to feel self-conscious. “But why only when we’re together?” he asked, nibbling at her lips before kissing her again, apparently not caring that she needed her mouth to answer his question.
She slid her hand around to the front of his body, pressing her palm flat and sliding it up over the middle of his chest where the deep V neck of his shirt bared a little of his chest to her, making a low noise when he followed his question with nibbling on her lip, then kissing her again. She could do little more than press back at him, as she really had missed him, and she could not get enough of him once it was offered. “Because I can’t have other women responding to it the way I am when I’m not there to deflect,” she murmured against his mouth, smiling at him a little bit. “You thought it was awkward when I leapt on you. Wait until a soccer mom is hanging on your neck at Target.”
“Would this soccer mom be leaping on me in the children’s section?” Fitz teased softly, rubbing the tip of his nose over hers for a moment. He turned his face aside to nuzzle at the side of her neck, eyes fluttering closed as he breathed in her scent. “Mmn, I promise only to wear it when you’re around, then. Scout’s honour.”
“Soccer moms have been known to hide everywhere,” Farra said with a grave sounding nod. “Don’t think just because you hide in the greeting card section all day, that makes you safe. They’re sneaky. And agile. And likely wearing stained clothes.”
“Will you protect me out in public, or do I wear the shirt only when I’m under house arrest?” Fitz asked. He ran his hand down over the back of her thigh, rubbing his palm over the skin. “I need to know the terms beforehand, so I don’t go breaking any of them by accident and put myself at risk.”
“I would protect you in public,” Farrah said decisively, shivering a bit as his hand worked over her thigh. “You obviously aren’t aware how gorgeous you are, so you really need protection when you go out like this. Unless you do what you did today and put a jacket on over top so no one can see. “ She leaned in and kissed him again. “See? I’m not greedy, I’m protective.”
Fitz smiled, kissing her back. “Mmn, I bet,” he said. “But I was wearing that jacket when I met you, you know, so maybe it’s not such a protective layer as you might think.” He traced his nails lightly over her thigh, raising his eyebrows at her. “So you better be prepared to fight the others off, should the time come.”
“I think I behaved myself when we met,” she said with a laugh, her hand slipping back down his body to gently work beneath the hem of his shirt and trace her fingernails lightly over the bottom of his stomach. “I might have hit on you relentlessly, but I blame that more on your eyes than the jacket. Anyway, either way, I’ll be on guard.”
“Very well-behaved,” Fitz murmured, kissing the side of her neck before moving down to her shoulder. He pressed himself against her, though of course making sure he wasn’t pushing her off of the couch. “I was very impressed with how you handled yourself. Or rather just vaguely intimidated.”
Farrah made a low, purring noise of contentment when he pressed himself against her, the leg that was draped over his hip tightening on him a bit to keep him exactly where he was. Her head tipped to expose more of her neck even as her fingers worked beneath his shirt to slide over the skin of his lower stomach and back. He was warm and firm beneath her fingertips, and she couldn’t stop herself from touching him as much as possible. “You weren’t intimidated,” she teased him, her voice a low, soft murmur that she directed into his ear. “You knew exactly what you were doing to me.”
“I suspected,” Fitz murmured, shivering a little as her hand smoothed over his skin. “And I couldn’t believe my luck.” It had indeed been luck that had had Fitz and Farrah crossing paths. The women he tended to take out were ones he crossed in his usual social circles - fancy bars, parties hosted by bigwigs, firms he did business with. Never someone he had met while careening about town with Dex. But maybe that was a good thing, because he had never felt from her the same sort of driving ambition that seemed to be behind most of the other women he dated, and who never seemed as taken with Fitz as Farrah was.
“It was almost a missed connection,” she murmured, smiling against the flesh of his jaw. “You took off to go tend to Dex, and I would’ve never seen you again had Gwen not needed a ride home. I dislike his paws on my sister, though I suppose I am grateful to their relationship for that.” She smoothed her fingertips along the dip of his back. “You were so drunk that night I almost felt a little bad hitting on you like I was.”
“I would have found you, you told me where you work. Bad girl,” he said, turning his head to kiss her properly again. “Mmn, isn’t it the cardinal rule of bartenders not to say where they work? Then they get even more idiots harassing them than usual.” He nuzzled at her hair. “Did you really feel guilty, or are you just saying that?”
“Well, I wouldn’t have minded so much if it was you harassing me,” she said, smiling at him as she rubbed the tip of her nose against his. “I don’t usually tell people, no, but I made an exception for you. And no, I didn’t really feel all that bad. Maybe if I had coerced you into doing something, but we just sat at a table and drank beer.”
“That we did,” Fitz said, smiling at the memory. She’d been blunt, but not forceful enough to be called aggressive. And she’d been freer with compliments than any other woman he’d met, who might say one nice thing with the expectation that he would say five back. He kissed the corner of her mouth. “Can I take this shirt off now, or would that break your heart?” he asked.
“Mmm, yes. Please do,” Farrah said, shifting back a bit so he could get his shirt off without her interrupting him. “It’s been so long, I might need to check you for quality assurance,” she said, tugging at the hem of his shirt and dragging it up a bit, but not able to take it off without him moving.
Fitz laughed. “God, we wouldn’t want me to fall below standard, would we?” he said. He sat up a bit and hiked the shirt up over his head, depositing it off the side of the couch without second thought. He was pretty confident she would approve of what she saw, so he didn’t pause to let her take a look, just bent down to kiss her again.
“Someone else might’ve broken something in your extended absence,” Farrah said in a very matter of fact voice. “I haven’t been able to stay on top of quality control.” She smiled at him, looking as much as she could before she was moving to accept his kiss, her hands slipping over his chest again. “You appear to be in working order, though.”
Fitz smoothed his hands over her, feeling the curve of her body through her clothing. “Hm, don’t say that yet, I haven’t done much, have I,” he murmured teasingly, shifting a bit to slightly push her down against the couch. “You’re too quick to rate the performance. Though I know for a fact it will be all tens again.”
Farrah’s stomach dipped in anticipation as she rolled to lay flat on the couch, her thighs parting just a bit more so they could properly cradle his hips. She sank into the plushness of the cushions, smiling up at him in between kisses, when she could stand to leave his mouth alone long enough to do so. “Mmm, I don’t recall rating your performance, Fitzwlliam,” she murmured teasingly. “I said you appear to be in working order. Though if you’re promising all tens, I’d like to see that.”
“You will,” Fitz said, just as teasing in response. He was far from cocky, but then again, Farrah had never made any complaints to him, and if she didn’t enjoy him then she was a marvellous actress. But mostly right then he was concerned with settling against her hips and smoothing his hands over her legs, pushing her skirt up.
Farrah tipped her head back to laugh, though her thighs tightened on his hips in response, as she had no doubt Fitz would deliver. It wasn’t as though he had a long history of leaving her sexually unsatisfied, when he was around, anyway. She slid her fingers down his stomach to toy with the waist of his pants, though she didn’t move to unzip them or anything of that nature just yet. “I can hardly wait,” she murmured, leaning up to nip at his bottom lip, then suck at it for a moment. “I do love a good show.”
Fitz kissed the corner of her mouth and then ran his lips down to her neck, nipping at her skin before beginning to suck. He pressed himself down against her, wanting to feel her beneath him again, and wondering how he could concentrate on working at all when Farrah made herself available like this.