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Entry tags:
Chase fic, Begin Easy, R, Annie/Natalie
Fandom: Chase
Pairing: Annie/Natalie
Spoilers: through 1.11 (probably?), though I want to say it's set after, um, 1.4? I don't remember the correct episode to say here, it's the one where Jimmy and Natalie are on the outs, and Annie goes to see her.
Rating: R, sexual situations, language
Genre: mostly PWP, sort of character study, femslash
Length: 1000+
Notes: I blame![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
annerbhp, as her recent post had two sentences I mixed up entirely and they presented the pairing to my brain once I'd seen the episode. I wrote the first two scenes at work today (that ban from the internet is at least a little useful?) (er, also, I sort of forgot Jimmy when writing this. I don't know how that works, but, whatever)
Begin Easy
by ALC Punk!
It's awkward the first time.
Natalie has just done a thirty-six hour shift and Annie's dead on her feet (but the intern has recovered from the flue and they caught the fugitive, so it's all good), but they're drunk and determined (it may be the former that's causing the coordination issues).
There's laughter--Natalie shoves Annie off the bed after getting an elbow in her side; Annie retaliates with thrown socks (they're not in high school anymore, but that hardly seems to matter). Neither is quite sure how they fit together (Natalie mumbles something about men being easier to pin to a bed).
Annie is coarse and demanding, a facade thrown up in the face of something she doesn't quite get (Natalie laughs at her, then. "Women aren't my thing," she mimics back from what feels like a hundred years ago but is probably barely minutes).
Trying something new is what Annie bills it as, though Natalie seems to know more about what she wants and where she wants it.
Not that it helps.
The sex is mostly horrible, and neither get off. Annie rubs too hard, Natalie refuses to just let go of herself long enough to let Annie know how to do it right, but they manage something that almost works, though it ends prematurely with Annie running for the bathroom.
"No such thing as too much tequila!" Natalie crows from the bed, her own fingers wandering south.
Annie ends up staying in the bathroom, too worried about her uncertain stomach to risk standing again (they both know she'd be out the door at a run if her phone rings with an All-Important Bulletin).
In the morning, heads aching and eyes dry with fatigue, they agree to never discuss it again.
"Rebound," Natalie claims, her complexion tending toward green (Annie isn't the only one who's going to regret the tequila).
Annie nods, then grimaces. "Right."
-=-
It's even more awkward the second time (and it's been months and months since the first, because life goes on even when you're wondering about your drunken lesbian encounter and whether it counts as that when you didn't come).
The problem is that Annie says she doesn't like oral, so Natalie (who may have admitted to some experiments in college) claims it's because she hasn't had it the right way round before, which leads to Annie looking uncomfortable where she's sprawled over Natalie's yellow sheets.
"Look, I respect your knowledge of anatomy as a physician," Annie says, using big words in an attempt to get her point across (there's no point in playing dumb, especially if she can still use her brain), "--but I don't--"
The breathed holy shit that follows is almost worth Annie yanking Natalie's hair so hard she's pretty sure some of it comes out by the fucking roots.
It's not that Annie likes oral, or that Natalie's really excellent at it. Natalie's fingers found more little spots that made her jump.
This time, the awkwardness is Natalie's face all shiny and her breath coming in short gasps (she didn't quite suffocate, but Annie's got some muscle on her legs, and it took an elbow to the knee to get free again).
"I hope you don't--" Annie says afterward, obviously trying not to be rude as she yawns and ruins her sentence.
Since her eyes are all dark and sleepy, and her body is limp everywhere, Natalie allows herself a smug little smile, then wipes the expression away with a corner of the sheet. "No." Pressing a kiss to Annie's hip, she slowly climbs back into the bed to rejoin her. "I've got my own fingers. Maybe you'll learn something by watching."
With Natalie sprawling every which way, and Annie half asleep, the second orgasm of the evening is almost a production.
Neither of them sleeps on the bathroom floor that night.
When Annie wakes in the morning, Natalie's already showered and gone, leaving a note about an emergency call.
There's no mention of breakfast.
-=-
"It's not just rebound," Annie suggests.
Her tone isn't tentative, and third time around, Natalie's fingers aren't tentative, either.
"Maybe not--fuck," Natalie manages, because her mood wasn't tentative, either, and Annie's been learning how her fingers slip and slide, circle and twist just there.
It's always better when it's someone else doing it isn't always true, but Natalie's settling for it being true right now.
"Good job," Natalie mumbles, hand clamping on Annie's wrist and pulling her fingers away.
Annie looks a little pleased with herself as she lets out a breath and sprawls out next to Natalie. "Thanks. You give good directions when you're not drunk."
Which is kind of the point Annie might have been making before, when she showed up at Natalie's door and said, "This is a thing, isn't it?" (Natalie just laughed and pulled her inside before shoving her up against the wall for a long, hungry kiss)
There's a bottle of wine they didn't really do more than wave at before falling into bed. Natalie rolls over to snag her glass, sipping at the lukewarm alcohol before she looks over her shoulder at Annie.
"Rebound can be more than once," Natalie suggests with a shrug.
Annie rolls her eyes and crawls over Natalie, laughing a little when Natalie makes that little please, now sound in her throat. She presses a kiss to the back of Natalie's neck before taking the other glass off the nightstand. "So how does this sort of thing work, anyway?"
There's an awkward moment when Natalie rolls and Annie tries not to spill her wine that ends with them both cross-legged and self-conscious until Natalie snickers.
"I don't know," Natalie drinks the last of her wine and leans back a little, catching the way Annie's eyes lazily look her over and flushing.
Annie spills her wine deliberately and leans in, tongue rough against Natalie's skin.
Later, sticky with sweat and wine, they both take a shower.
-=-
Between their respective jobs, they don't have the kind of time to make something that's a relationship--at least, both of them avoid the word when they're actually talking. Thing is, Natalie starts planning her days off to coincide with Annie's, and Annie starts buying more wine.
Fifty-Nine likes Natalie. That's probably the deciding factor that makes Annie admit it might be more (and Natalie doesn't even object when she wakes to him hogging most of the bed while Annie laughs at them both).
They have their first fight over something stupid, and their first hot make-up session two weeks later after a particularly grueling forty-eight-hour stretch on Annie's part (Natalie doesn't even complain about Annie snoring afterwards).
It's still not something either can put into words, and maybe it won't be--though neither says it, they're both all right with that.
-f-
Pairing: Annie/Natalie
Spoilers: through 1.11 (probably?), though I want to say it's set after, um, 1.4? I don't remember the correct episode to say here, it's the one where Jimmy and Natalie are on the outs, and Annie goes to see her.
Rating: R, sexual situations, language
Genre: mostly PWP, sort of character study, femslash
Length: 1000+
Notes: I blame
annerbhp, as her recent post had two sentences I mixed up entirely and they presented the pairing to my brain once I'd seen the episode. I wrote the first two scenes at work today (that ban from the internet is at least a little useful?) (er, also, I sort of forgot Jimmy when writing this. I don't know how that works, but, whatever)Begin Easy
by ALC Punk!
It's awkward the first time.
Natalie has just done a thirty-six hour shift and Annie's dead on her feet (but the intern has recovered from the flue and they caught the fugitive, so it's all good), but they're drunk and determined (it may be the former that's causing the coordination issues).
There's laughter--Natalie shoves Annie off the bed after getting an elbow in her side; Annie retaliates with thrown socks (they're not in high school anymore, but that hardly seems to matter). Neither is quite sure how they fit together (Natalie mumbles something about men being easier to pin to a bed).
Annie is coarse and demanding, a facade thrown up in the face of something she doesn't quite get (Natalie laughs at her, then. "Women aren't my thing," she mimics back from what feels like a hundred years ago but is probably barely minutes).
Trying something new is what Annie bills it as, though Natalie seems to know more about what she wants and where she wants it.
Not that it helps.
The sex is mostly horrible, and neither get off. Annie rubs too hard, Natalie refuses to just let go of herself long enough to let Annie know how to do it right, but they manage something that almost works, though it ends prematurely with Annie running for the bathroom.
"No such thing as too much tequila!" Natalie crows from the bed, her own fingers wandering south.
Annie ends up staying in the bathroom, too worried about her uncertain stomach to risk standing again (they both know she'd be out the door at a run if her phone rings with an All-Important Bulletin).
In the morning, heads aching and eyes dry with fatigue, they agree to never discuss it again.
"Rebound," Natalie claims, her complexion tending toward green (Annie isn't the only one who's going to regret the tequila).
Annie nods, then grimaces. "Right."
-=-
It's even more awkward the second time (and it's been months and months since the first, because life goes on even when you're wondering about your drunken lesbian encounter and whether it counts as that when you didn't come).
The problem is that Annie says she doesn't like oral, so Natalie (who may have admitted to some experiments in college) claims it's because she hasn't had it the right way round before, which leads to Annie looking uncomfortable where she's sprawled over Natalie's yellow sheets.
"Look, I respect your knowledge of anatomy as a physician," Annie says, using big words in an attempt to get her point across (there's no point in playing dumb, especially if she can still use her brain), "--but I don't--"
The breathed holy shit that follows is almost worth Annie yanking Natalie's hair so hard she's pretty sure some of it comes out by the fucking roots.
It's not that Annie likes oral, or that Natalie's really excellent at it. Natalie's fingers found more little spots that made her jump.
This time, the awkwardness is Natalie's face all shiny and her breath coming in short gasps (she didn't quite suffocate, but Annie's got some muscle on her legs, and it took an elbow to the knee to get free again).
"I hope you don't--" Annie says afterward, obviously trying not to be rude as she yawns and ruins her sentence.
Since her eyes are all dark and sleepy, and her body is limp everywhere, Natalie allows herself a smug little smile, then wipes the expression away with a corner of the sheet. "No." Pressing a kiss to Annie's hip, she slowly climbs back into the bed to rejoin her. "I've got my own fingers. Maybe you'll learn something by watching."
With Natalie sprawling every which way, and Annie half asleep, the second orgasm of the evening is almost a production.
Neither of them sleeps on the bathroom floor that night.
When Annie wakes in the morning, Natalie's already showered and gone, leaving a note about an emergency call.
There's no mention of breakfast.
-=-
"It's not just rebound," Annie suggests.
Her tone isn't tentative, and third time around, Natalie's fingers aren't tentative, either.
"Maybe not--fuck," Natalie manages, because her mood wasn't tentative, either, and Annie's been learning how her fingers slip and slide, circle and twist just there.
It's always better when it's someone else doing it isn't always true, but Natalie's settling for it being true right now.
"Good job," Natalie mumbles, hand clamping on Annie's wrist and pulling her fingers away.
Annie looks a little pleased with herself as she lets out a breath and sprawls out next to Natalie. "Thanks. You give good directions when you're not drunk."
Which is kind of the point Annie might have been making before, when she showed up at Natalie's door and said, "This is a thing, isn't it?" (Natalie just laughed and pulled her inside before shoving her up against the wall for a long, hungry kiss)
There's a bottle of wine they didn't really do more than wave at before falling into bed. Natalie rolls over to snag her glass, sipping at the lukewarm alcohol before she looks over her shoulder at Annie.
"Rebound can be more than once," Natalie suggests with a shrug.
Annie rolls her eyes and crawls over Natalie, laughing a little when Natalie makes that little please, now sound in her throat. She presses a kiss to the back of Natalie's neck before taking the other glass off the nightstand. "So how does this sort of thing work, anyway?"
There's an awkward moment when Natalie rolls and Annie tries not to spill her wine that ends with them both cross-legged and self-conscious until Natalie snickers.
"I don't know," Natalie drinks the last of her wine and leans back a little, catching the way Annie's eyes lazily look her over and flushing.
Annie spills her wine deliberately and leans in, tongue rough against Natalie's skin.
Later, sticky with sweat and wine, they both take a shower.
-=-
Between their respective jobs, they don't have the kind of time to make something that's a relationship--at least, both of them avoid the word when they're actually talking. Thing is, Natalie starts planning her days off to coincide with Annie's, and Annie starts buying more wine.
Fifty-Nine likes Natalie. That's probably the deciding factor that makes Annie admit it might be more (and Natalie doesn't even object when she wakes to him hogging most of the bed while Annie laughs at them both).
They have their first fight over something stupid, and their first hot make-up session two weeks later after a particularly grueling forty-eight-hour stretch on Annie's part (Natalie doesn't even complain about Annie snoring afterwards).
It's still not something either can put into words, and maybe it won't be--though neither says it, they're both all right with that.
-f-