eric_foreman: Eric Foreman from House - eyebrow raised (eyebrow)
eric_foreman ([personal profile] eric_foreman) wrote in [community profile] alwaysright2009-08-20 07:55 pm

October 29, 2007 - Evening

Nothing around here works the way it's supposed to work.

Of everything their John Doe--Robert Elliot--had said when Foreman had been with him, that was what rang the most true. It was stupid to think that talking with a patient with Giovianni's syndrome could change anything, least of all how he saw himself. The guy wasn't psychic; he was only picking up on the cues that Foreman had dropped inadvertently. Changing because of that was worse than stupid. It would imply that not only was Foreman ignorant about his own feelings and what he wanted, but also that he was spineless enough to act differently because of a stranger's neurological disorder. Foreman made his own choices. He wasn't looking for any advice, whether it was his own reflected back at him or not.

After the day's humiliation, Foreman had been more sure than ever that Princeton wasn't the right place for him. Less than an hour later, Chase had come up to him, clapped a hand on his shoulder, and laughingly asked if it was true.

Foreman fixed him with a furious stare. "I didn't know she worked here. And I didn't have to beg her every day for weeks."

Chase, far from being offended, just grinned wider. "Once a week. Anyway, I heard Amber was the one calling the shots."

Foreman didn't bother pointing out that Cameron walked all over Chase on a daily basis. "I have to run a biopsy," he said, turning to walk away, his shoulders hunched as he pushed his fists into his pockets.

"She seems like just your type!" Chase called after him. "Did you ever consider lightening up and enjoying yourselves?"

Fat chance of that. Not with the whole hospital in on the joke and watching. For what it was worth, Foreman didn't have to work with Amber directly for the rest of the day. Both of them were too busy running cultures and keeping the patient alive. Foreman let House do whatever crazy thing entered his mind. He didn't have any illusions about being able to stop him today, and Foreman was more interested in keeping his head down. In thinking about how to get away.

But when House sidled up to him with a job offer from Mount Zion, Foreman's first thought wasn't to jump at the opportunity. It wasn't even to suspect that House was having him on, dangling the possibility with every intention of yanking it away the second Foreman seemed likely to believe it was real.

His first thought had been, I can't go yet.

That had surprised him more than anything, made him stop and frown once he'd finally shaken House off. After having his affairs aired in the middle of a differential like a choice piece of gossip he couldn't believe that there was any reason not to take up the job hunt again. Farther afield, where the hospitals wouldn't have heard of him, or had their diagnostics cases redirected to Princeton-Plainsboro, so that they'd only know House by his reputation, not by personal experience. Maybe as far away as California; Foreman still had contacts there.

But he didn't want to go.

Partly it was the medicine. He'd felt in the thick of it again today. Working against the clock to solve a case. Challenged, following the clues from one to the next. He'd always loved that, even if he hadn't been happy working for House. But partly, Foreman knew, it was Amber, and he didn't know what do about that. He'd been shot down enough, rejected enough, that he should want to stay away from her just to avoid any more scenes like this morning's. Even so, he couldn't stop thinking about her. Wondering what she really felt and whether the attitude she'd shown in front of House was all there was.

Well, it didn't matter. He wasn't going to ask. Once the case was solved, all Foreman wanted to do was gather his things and escape. It was late, and dark, and he headed for the doors slowly, already knowing he wouldn't have the same luck he'd had on Thursday. Nothing worked out the way it should.
amber_v: Aw, man, don't pout at me (lean)

[personal profile] amber_v 2009-09-06 04:49 am (UTC)(link)
For far too many heart flutters, Amber half-feared Eric would push her away again, panic getting the better of him and making him bolt from the bathroom, the restaurant, her. Did he have the guts to stay? So his groan, his possessive grasp over her hips, they were a balm to Amber. Relief poured through her, cooling her feelings like a fire-extinguisher aimed at a fire. She didn't understand what Eric was thinking, where his limits lay, and why what he thought of her mattered so much. Didn't want to think about it, either. With any other man, Amber would've laughed off or rolled her eyes that her momentary partner couldn't keep up with her. With Eric-- she couldn't bear him thinking less of her. Damn it, he shouldn't have gotten to her this fast, no matter how much she liked him.

But she wouldn't think of that. Not now. A moan ripped out from her, deep and so satisfying and his mouth was all along her throat and this was what she wanted, unabashed and uncontrolled. His words were contradictory, I couldn't one second and Please the next. He wanted, didn't want? Whatever conflicting thoughts were running through his mind, Amber didn't care, because his mouth, ravaging her skin, his body, hot and demanding and pulling her in closer, told her all she needed to know. His erection, hard as ever, dug into her abdomen, and his hands tightened possessively. He wanted her.

He could have her.

Still kissing him fast and insistent, her hands flew to undo his clothes all over again, unbuckling his belt, unbuttoning his pants, pulling down his underwear. A hand or a blow job would be a quick solution. He wouldn't last long, not with his dick straining like that, and by now, he must be in pain, delaying his pleasure so long. But Amber wanted more. She'd been embarrassed, and she wanted-- needed-- affirmation. "Fuck me," Amber murmured around his lips, voice raw, eyes lidded. She ripped off her own shirt, unzipped her skirt so that it fell to the floor; peeled off her nylons in seconds. Before he could think to say no, to consider the unlocked door and all the people that could burst in, Amber wrapped her arms around him, burning skin meeting burning skin.
amber_v: Hiya, lips. Why so sad? (lips)

[personal profile] amber_v 2009-09-06 04:30 pm (UTC)(link)
"That's right," Amber murmured as they backtracked towards the door. "Yeah, like that," she got around shallow breaths and kisses. As she'd imagined, its surface was cool and smooth, and she shuddered at the sudden contrast: like being between two worlds.

Those weren't the only dimensions she was stuck between. Eric's near tenderness in his kisses, soft and intimate, like she was the one that mattered, like it couldn't be anyone else-- it clashed with the anger and lust she'd been coasting on. She'd known she liked him, but she didn't do this, didn't let it get all personal, and now that she was in the middle of so many feelings, she didn't know how to react.

So she did the only thing she could: she let herself go.

"Eric," she breathed, then kissed him, deep, tongue flush against his, and became increasingly lightheaded. Eric pulled away, and she whined, but then gasped a second later, arching her breasts into the wet, hot pressure of his mouth. God that felt good, it was what she needed. So when he pulled away again, she literally growled, even if it was for so practical a matter as procuring protection. "You want me," Amber spread her arms open, welcoming him into them, "you take me."

Without him wrapped around her, sensory overload dizzying her, Amber could take a moment to appreciate Eric's intensity. He moved sleek and fast, a feline prowling its prey, his gaze filled with hunger. She couldn't doubt how much he wanted her, and it was so, so arousing. Overflowing with sheer desire, and willing to act on it… Amber didn't see him like this often enough.

Her shoulder blades and spine dug into the wood, just as Eric's digits pressed into her flesh, raising her; she did her part, wrapping her left arm around his shoulder, and how slicked with sweat was his back. It afforded her no hold, and she might've slipped, but Amber knew she wouldn't, not with Eric holding her up; and then his latex-covered erection was finally, at long last, penetrating her entrance, stretching her open. Wet as she was, Amber took him in easily, eagerly.

God, they were fucking against a restaurant bathroom door.

At least they could be pretty sure no one would burst in on them now, lock undone or not; their joint weight would keep the door closed.

Amber glanced to the side, where they featured, large as life, in the mirror. If Eric inside and around her hadn't been enough to set her heart racing, their reflection would've done the job. She could see them in all their glory: her reddened skin and mussed hair, his arm and leg muscles flexed to support her weight. Fuck. Her own thigh hid his dick, but her legs wrapped around his hips, the shine of his ass, it was more than enough. Shuddering, she needed the pulse of his thrusts, to feel Eric deep inside.

Once more Amber was caught between two: watching them in the mirror and looking straight at Eric's face, its lines boldly defined with exquisite pleasure. Jesus, how could she pick? Undecided, she looked back and forth, all the while rolling herself against Eric, her right hand rubbing her clit fast and furious. He wouldn't, couldn't last long, and she wanted to come here, now, with him fucking her. She daren't even speak the phrases galloping in her mind, like oh fuck yes and come inside me, lest it hastened his orgasm. But the various whimpers and moans, she couldn't hold those back, not even as she kissed his jaw, his beard scratching her lips.
amber_v: Hiya, lips. Why so sad? (lips)

[personal profile] amber_v 2009-09-07 01:46 pm (UTC)(link)
Amber's eyes widened, stunned by Eric's words. He was speaking her mind, growling out the very thoughts turning her on. But, oh how much better to hear them in his voice, with a desesperation as if those images were making as wild as she. Wilder. New waves of arousal crashed through her, and she could ride this out, yes, she could. Would. "Unn," she tried, and when that didn't work, Amber focused harder. "Not-- not as much as I like watching you--" She curved to whisper in his ear. "Us."

And just then, a perfectly timed roll of their hips hit her just when she needed it, or maybe it was the way he squeezed her thigh that sealed the deal, the pitch of his groans she sensed rumbling from abdomen, his chest. Whatever it was, Amber thrust back against the door, pushing her pelvis against him, crying out softly, overtaken. This wasn't-- she'd just come, she shouldn't have come again this fast, and it wasn't as good, as pure, as when Eric had brought her off beneath the table, but this was so much more intense, Eric himself shaking with release, his rapid thrusts only prolonging her orgasm. Scarier, too, Out there it had been so simple, a bit of naughty fun, them playing around. Eyes squeezed shut, Amber let herself soak up the last of her pleasure, shuddering as Eric mouthed her throat.

But as the last of the orgasm lingered away, Amber breathed in deep and opened her eyes. She'd slid back down to her feet, her soles back on the floor. The mirror showed all: the disaray of Eric's remaining clothes, her nakedness. What had just happened? Not the physical facts, Amber knew those well enough. They'd made out, she'd come, Eric had run away, and she-- she'd been so angry. She felt none of that fury now, just drained and bewildred, their bodies cooling, Eric's penis decreasing in size inside her. She didn't know what to think.

Amber brought her hands to Eric's shoulders, squeezed them for a second before pushing him slightly, just enough to make him slip out, for her to maneouver to the sink. "Wow," she said, so he'd know she wasn't-- running away or anything, not like him. She just needed a moment or twenty. "That was... wow." The water she splashed on her face was cold, refreshing. It made her able to look up again, into the reflection of Eric's eyes.
amber_v: Aw, man, don't pout at me (lean)

[personal profile] amber_v 2009-09-07 08:54 pm (UTC)(link)
Water droplets ran down her face as Eric padded towards her, wrapping himself around her. Amber wasn't even sure if she wanted him near, much less hugging her, but his touch drew her in, and she leaned back, angling her cheek to brush against his.

It bothered her. It bothered her a lot, the fact that Eric could shake her that badly, disturb her so much. Amber wasn't one to care about opinions; other people's judgments were nothing more than barriers to what she wanted and she never let them stand in her way. Okay, maybe she didn't love the fact that most of her classmates and coworkers watched out as they expected her to pull a dagger out at any moment. But being callous and self-centered had worked for her.

Her skin tingled as Eric combed her hair, fingertips fluttering over her skin. This was more complicated than she'd imagined. She thought she'd be okay with being into Eric and whatever else that meant; up until now she'd assumed the worst of it would be fighting, boredom, or having to chose between him and work. That he could make her feel like trash over a few words and actions, that she hadn’t seen coming. Though, really, she should've; it was one of the reasons why she'd sworn off serious dating in high school.

I want to do so much when I'm with you. Despite her hesitations, Amber clasped her hands over his, unable to pull away. She didn't understand that statement any better than she had the previous one. Was it only literal, that he got sexually adventurous with her, or were there other readings? And when had she become someone kept analyzing the meanings behind casual statements? If she wasn't careful, she'd start asking Eric how he felt her about her and where he saw this going.

She smiled. This musing thing was going too far. "We're just getting started," she said. "I suggest our next big step be eating dinner; if the staff hasn't decided to throw us out, our food should’ve arrived by now. It’s probably all cold.” Nimbly extracting herself from his hold, she gathered her scattered clothes and began redressing herself. They’d probably have to talk, at some point, but she didn’t want to right now.
amber_v: Hiya, lips. Why so sad? (lips)

[personal profile] amber_v 2009-09-08 02:23 pm (UTC)(link)
It was nice to focus on something so banal as getting dressed: legs through cotton holes, nylon sliding over skin, zipper up, and a round button to seal her skirt. None of it required much attention; she could do this in her sleep. But the familiarity gave her comfort. Not everything had to be earth-tilting and confusing.

By the time she got her bra and shirt back on, Amber felt much better, not as weak and defenseless. Eric smiled her, not entirely without some sheepishness, but mostly glowing, like they'd performed some great crime and gotten away with it. Which, actually, wasn't too far from the truth. So was he glad to have fucked her in public? He wouldn't resent her for making him commit a felony? Or had House broken him in to ignore the law already, and he'd only needed a bit of goading to commit a sex-related infraction?

"Who says we have to sneak out?" Amber tilted her head, grinning. "Maybe they're waiting for us to walk out hand-in-hand, and they'll give us a standing ovation." His suit, she couldn't help noticing, was back in place, aligned as it should be. Yet there were wrinkles in the pants that wouldn't be smoothed out by hands, and she wondered if his shirt wasn't stained with sweat. "Or they're lining up, waiting impatiently for their turn."

Touching him was just a question of reaching out. So much to go for: a tug on his tie, a hand wrapped over his, her arms around his torso. But Amber still felt too raw for that, like skin worn down to sensitivity by repeated rubbing.

Eric did have a point: it was probably better they didn’t go out together. She doubted they’d get in trouble for walking out of the bathroom at the same time, but it wouldn’t hurt to be careful. And they could play it like a game. “You go first, then. One knock if it’s clear, twenty if I should stay inside.” She winked at him.
amber_v: Amber in spring! (glow)

[personal profile] amber_v 2009-09-09 12:17 am (UTC)(link)
So nervous, so excited. Like a kid sneaking in a puppy hidden under his coat. Amber couldn't help laughing, and how good that felt, the near snort lighting everything up. This was how it should've been, them misbehaving together and finding only the joy in it. None of that guilt and embarrassment.

However, Amber did give credit where it was due: Eric's reflection revealed no misplaced amusement, just excessive seriousness for a man walking out of a bathroom. That poker face had probably been developed not just while working House, but from his experiences as a kid. As a teenager, the stealing he'd told her about.

It made her think, as she leaned her palms against the sink's cold, polished marble. Maybe this stint had been more than a game to Eric. He'd almost landed in jail, came this close to losing the life he had now as an accomplished, albeit career-frustrated, doctor. To her, getting it on in a public space wasn't anything more than a kinky prank; she'd never expected any retribution more severe than expulsion.

The soft rap distracted from her thoughts, and once more Amber laughed. He really had knocked; would he have hit the door twenty times, had the coast not been clear? Biting her lip, her smile grew. Now there was a sight to imagine, Eric becoming increasingly conspicuous as he tapped repeatedly.

Amber took a minute to run her fingers through her hair-- it needed more attention than that, but she'd left her purse, and the comb in it, at the table-- then opened the door imperiously, as if she owned the place and had the right to do whatever she wanted, wherever she pleased. No one seemed to even notice. What a pity, all that drama and no one cared!

Aiming herself towards where they’d been sitting, Amber looked for Eric, curious to see how he was faring, now that he was back under public scrutiny. She hadn’t forgotten the streak of worry that had perturbed her, as to how she’d reacted to Eric’s disapproval, but all in all, she felt back in place, her skirt swaying slightly as she strode back to the table.
amber_v: Smug Amber is smug (smug)

[personal profile] amber_v 2009-09-10 01:20 am (UTC)(link)
Bubbling. That was the first word that came to mind when Amber spotted Eric, for contentment shone from his radiant grin, lighting up his whole face. Amber's own smile widened as his gaze followed her as she reached his side, sitting down without moving her chair away from his. She felt good again. Wanted to be by his side. The complications, she'd leave them later. For now, she couldn't resist being happy with him.

"Did you think they'd call the police on us?" Amber asked lightly. "I've done this a few times, and the worst that ever happened was that I got kicked out of a bar. And got called a few names." She poured herself and Eric more wine, the dark liquid swirling quietly into their glasses.

She glanced to where Eric was looking. The woman cast them a look their way as well, perhaps noticing she was being observed, but quickly averted any eye contact. Had she turned red? "You men are all the same," Amber replied, but with no malice, only good humor. "You'd like it if she'd been watching me, wouldn't you." Amber wasn't against sleeping with women; she refused to limit out anything that might bring her pleasure. She'd had sex with a few, mostly as a part of threesomes. With multiple partners, as long as it was just sex with other bodies, it hadn't mattered; it was just a different way of having fun. Yet-- something visceral and tight clenched around her throat, choking Amber for a second. She reached for her wine, sipping at it to quell her sudden outburst of emotion.

Threesomes were fine and all, but she wouldn't be suggesting them to Eric. Almost anything else she'd be up for, but not that. Eric wasn't-- she wouldn't share. And here was one more thing to consider when she had a moment to herself. For now, she raised an eyebrow at Eric. "But she stopped looking, which isn't very flattering. I hope she wasn't watching either one of us."

The food, though limp, smelled fantastic. She must be hungry. Amber grinned at the waiter. "No thanks, we're... satisfied." She then ravenously cut into her chicken, dying to eat.
amber_v: Hiya, lips. Why so sad? (lips)

[personal profile] amber_v 2009-09-22 01:31 am (UTC)(link)
Eric's grin could be only be described as lurid. That, or as lewd-- or any other number of synonyms indicating sex-filled, really. She could very well imagine what was running through his mind. "Don't think I don't know what you're thinking," Amber drawled. "It might not be of her, but it's of someone. Like I said, all you men are the same." It was clearer than ever that threesomes appealed to him, but she still wouldn’t be suggesting anything of the sort. And if he asked—well, just how mercilessly she’d shoot down that notion depended on his approach to the question.

They’d reheated her chicken, and though she wouldn’t grant it any awards of the year, it tasted as good as it smelled: excellent, and precisely what she wanted. Nothing like working up an appetite to make you appreciate food with all due respect. It was sharp and spicy, just as she liked it; her earlier remarks hadn’t been only innuendo.

“For all we know, they can’t wait for us to come back. I bet we’ve been the best entertainment they’ve seen in weeks. And if they do kick us out, there’s plenty of other fish in Princeton-Plainsboro.”

His question required a great deal more consideration, though. Amber chewed more carefully than needed, her gaze roaming around the room as she dove into her memories. There were a lot of possibilities, for ‘wildest’: multiple sex partners, sex in inappropriate (and usually public) places, assorted difficult positions, taping--

But none of it, she was starting to realize, was as crazy as what she was doing right now. Sitting across from Eric. Having dinner with him, opening herself up even more. This was a high-risk investment, in so many ways. Sure she could angle to manipulate House to fall on her side, but who said he'd be persuaded? And that, Amber thought as her stomach tightened pleasantly just by looking back at Eric, might be the simplest part.

“Streaking across my college campus,” Amber eventually decided. It’d been the most blatant bit of law-breaking she’d ever attempted—though not necessarily the worst crime she’d committed. “I guess I was never as wild as when I was a co-ed.” Her eyebrows went up. “Your turn.”
amber_v: Aw, man, don't pout at me (lean)

[personal profile] amber_v 2009-09-22 11:34 pm (UTC)(link)
"Football doesn't deserve my naked ass," Amber noted. With feigned modesty, "There isn't much of a story to tell. It was my first semester, and some of the sororities made their new girls streak across the greens. It seemed like fun, so I joined in." There'd been a begging-of-year fair, and she'd run straight through it. While she saw little of the reaction, everything blurring by as she pumped her legs, the sounds had been more than enough reward. Shrieks, incredulous laughter, hoots. Amber grinned. "I’d been right: was fun."

But, like earlier in the evening, Eric managed to hit a singularly somber note, unpredictable given the melody up until then. Though his reminiscence wasn’t out of tune, entirely misplaced in their conversation, it caught Amber off-guard. His question had, she'd thought, wanted a sexual escapade as an answer; she'd delivered along those lines, and expected the same of him. The tale of daring his brother to dangerous sport and nearly maiming himself felt like an entirely different category of "wild," not to mention more intimate. Lingering, haunting memories were harder to part with than boast-worthy feats.

As Eric recounted the incident, Amber wiped her mouth with her napkin, listening carefully and thinking hard. This memory definitely hung over Eric; she'd have to be blind and deaf not to realize that. His voice dipped when he mentioned his brother, his eyes glancing downward for a second. Guilt from the risk he'd put his brother through, or from something else?

Forgetting her reheated, and once more cooling, food, Amber slid her hand over the table, reaching out for him in more than one sense. She'd been-- and was-- scared of her outburst, but that didn't seem to matter. Not now. Not in face of Eric's troubled demeanor. "You must've been terrified." Amber suddenly remembered all the teenagers injured by stupid stunts she'd seen over the years, shocked not just by the damage they'd sustained but also by the comprehension of their treacherous vulnerability. Yes. Of course Eric had been one of them. He was too-- proper, not to have experienced this. Amber shuddered, suddenly imagining how it must've been, the sudden lights, his muscles swerving of their own accord, acting on instinct. Without a second’s thought, her hand inched closer towards him. "How about your brother? How did he take it?" Knowing not-quite-men, she was willing to bet he'd also thought the crash was 'cool.'
amber_v: Amber in spring! (glow)

[personal profile] amber_v 2009-09-23 02:08 am (UTC)(link)
Amber warmed when Eric mirrored her motion, linking their hands together. This was nice. Close, but not too much. Just right. Maybe they were on the same page again. Feeling-- snug, somehow, with relief and anticipation (over what?), Amber sipped more of her wine. It went down easy, but came back up make her head spin. Okay, maybe she shouldn't have anymore. Good thing Eric was driving. "I'd be amazed if the bike survived the crash-- and if he obeyed the ban." Aided by her tipsiness, her words flowed freely. "But I bet you'd have sworn off, with or without your mom's decision."

He'd mentioned his brother before, hadn't he? When they'd been playing mini-golf. Amber pushed back her more unpleasant memories of that evening to earlier, when they’d still been flirting and exchanging casually tidbits about themselves. If she remembered correctly, Eric had made a point of beating his younger brother at the same game. There seemed to be a repeating theme of competitiveness; Amber wondered if they still tried to out-do each other. She certainly did, with her own brothers. Or had Eric mellowed into a more benevolent elder sibling? Did they even keep in touch? If this- whatever it was- lasted, she might even meet him. Maybe it was the wine, but such an eventuality seemed only natural. Rubbing her thumb against his palm, slow, affectionately, she asked: “What does your brother do now?”

She'd been so involved in Eric's story it took her a moment to recall what sorority he could be referring to. "Ah, not quite," Amber corrected, smirking at the thought of her as a Greek. "I said the new girls were hazing, not that I was one of them. I don’t do groups; I don’t play well with others.”
amber_v: Aw, man, don't pout at me (lean)

[personal profile] amber_v 2009-09-24 12:12 am (UTC)(link)
That would be a 'no' to meeting the brother, then-- and, for once, not because of her. She'd met family before, but that was in high school, where everyone had known each other for years, and you didn't need to go through flaming hoops of courtship to know someone's parents. Or, for that matter, to run into them at fundraisers, the supermarket, school ceremonies... oh, she'd known some of the parents of the boys she'd slept with, alright.

Amber was more curious than ever about this brother of Eric's. Keeping close family ties would be part and parcel of the perfect man persona he had going, and if he didn't know-- or claim to know-- what his sibling was up to, there had to be a serious piece of history behind that. But he clearly didn't want to talk about it, and she wouldn't push; he wouldn't say anymore even if she did.

Eric's curt reply, I don't know, his near bolting away like a horse frightened by thunder, these all conveyed the message loud and clear: his brother was one touchy subject. It wasn't about her, Amber understood. It still stung a little, though, through the haze of the wine.

But she plowed on, not letting the new sign of just how under her skin he'd gotten bother her, telling him about her Free Agent status with plenty of enthusiasm. Before long she'd brought him back from that dark brink, and he took her hand again.

"Want more already?" Amber asked, playing with his fingers with her own. She brushed her fingertips against his, stroked his index with her thumb. Truth be told, she was still buzzing from her latest orgasms, flooded with endorphins and the occasional pleasurable surge. She could go home that night fully sated. A second-- or was that third?-- round was hardly needed. Amber might not even be up for it; it'd been an emotional roller coaster of a day, starting with their fights, and the public sex, and more fights, and sex again-- and they had work tomorrow.

And yet. The thought of wrapping herself around him, tight and possessive and complete, like she couldn't have before this audience, of riding him slow and deliberate, it welcomed her. Take him in full, in so many meanings of the phrase. Even if they didn’t do more than kiss and hug, the thought of falling asleep besides Eric appealed far too much to her. "And I want you to," her mouth quirked. "Ready to go?"
amber_v: Amber can has a naughy idea (smirk)

[personal profile] amber_v 2009-09-24 11:44 pm (UTC)(link)
Normally Amber would object to her date paying for her half of the meal, but she'd already agreed to let him treat her. Given the fact he'd gotten that money partially thanks to her job performance-- good yet not enough to outrank the others significantly-- it was more than fair he shared the bounty. Though, wrinkling her nose when Eric didn't wait for the change, he shouldn't have shared that bounty so generously with the staff. It bothered her, like rain on a planned outing, to not get his (and therefore her) money's worth. It wouldn't be wise to aggravate the waiter, though, not when he could report them to a superior or the police, so she left the crisp bills undisturbed.

More chivalry awaited her, with Eric taking her coat and holding it up, eyebrow raised expectantly. God, was he still doing that? "You know, if you're doing that just to get laid, it's pointless." Though Amber tried to sound stern, she couldn't help an amused twitch of her mouth, oddly flattered. Any other guy, and it'd just be annoying and trite. But this wasn't any other guy. This was Eric, showering her with attention. "You've already got me bagged, to mix my metaphors."

With a regal chin raise, to remind him and let everyone else know she could dress herself without aid, Amber slipped into the sleeves her coat, the material rustling as she did so. From there, it was just a step backwards to stand beside him, the perfect place for her to wrap an arm around his back, fingers grazing lightly as she did so. Winking, "Here's the last, G-rated show of the evening."
amber_v: Amber in spring! (glow)

[personal profile] amber_v 2009-09-25 03:51 pm (UTC)(link)
"I can get behind that." Amber dimpled; the more she thought of Eric’s rereading of chivalry, the better it sounded. Him fussing over her coat was a way of showing off: she got to boast she had him draped all over her, and he got to wordlessly declare who was letting him give her royal queen treatment. And even if she considered having someone else dress her ridiculous, others wished for that practice; good, they could envy her all the more. "Even if it is the Victorian equivalent of PDA."

She drew the line at having doors opened for her, though. And, perhaps having read her mind, Eric didn't reach out for the restaurant door, or the car's. Though-- mind reading! Next she'd be thinking they were born for each other, or calling them soul mates. Was that what relationships did, wrap otherwise rational people around goofy, cheesy clichés?

Amber shivered when Eric parted to go over to his side and clambered quickly into her seat. Having just kicked in, heaters hadn't warmed the car, but at least she'd be protected from the wind. She reached out for his thigh-- not for the warmth, not to be sexy, but simply because she wanted to touch him. Their next destination was too long a wait to hold back.

"Actually, yeah, I do," she said, surprise bleeding into her voice. She'd forgotten that small practical matter. Apparently to the cliché list she could add, 'forgetting reality.' "Unless you have clothes at home that fit and look good on me."

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