[RP] Whatever happened to Saturday Night...

[idontreallyspar]

Renting movies and ordering in for pizza two weeks running was more than Tom could take. And lucky for him, Rachel was in the same boat.

It wasn't like they'd been doing it every single night, but after staying in nearly half the time in that fourteen day period, he was starting to feel OMCS...Old Married Couple Syndrome. He knew Rachel was feeling it, too, because every time he sat down to get some work done she was either over his shoulder, which bothered him, or in his lap...which led to a lot of necking, bare minimum...or doing something annoying. Which, of course, didn't *really* annoy him, but he growled and snarled at her just the same.

And naturally, none of it fazed her because she knew he was full of shit.

But Saturday night was upon them again and Tom had actually gotten his latest stack of reports done and handed in. Still, he was at his desk, messing around with an idea about something and trying to hide it from Rachel, who was once again behind him, arms around his shoulders and chin atop his head to watch what he was doing as she chattered on about doing something fun or exciting.

"Okay, how 'bout this," Tom finally drawled, leaning back in his seat and tilting his head up, resting the top against her stomach after dislodging her chin, her arms still around his shoulders. "We go out, get drunk, and we get you to the local tattoo parlor...right smack dab in the middle of your left ass cheek we get you a real pretty heart with a banner across it that says 'The Love Butt.'"

Once the flurry of laughter and smacking had subsided into another round of Rachel in his lap, reminding him just how much he loved the fact that she was oral as hell. When they finally parted, he grinned, quirking an eyebrow.

"Okay, so no Love Butt." he conceded. "But I ain't exactly kidding about the tattoo part, and we could definitely throw in getting drunk. Could be fun. Besides, I been thinkin' about getting another one...you could get one, too."

Comments

[my_strappyshoes]

Rachel had felt the draw of the idle as well, each night becoming a bit repetitive, and a bit stale. She never said anything though, because she didn't mind routine. Routine kept her a bit sane as well, but when it came to Tom she didn't want it all to be routine. When it came to Tom she liked the spur of the moment, the lets jump out the window and take the fire escape out of the building in Milan instead of the elevator at the end of the hall. She had come to love those split second choices, whether they were on the job or at home. Her own apartment had become more like storage for her stuff as well.

Depending on which airport they flew out of they would usually end up at his place, and perhaps on occasion over at hers the night before they flew out. It was a good routine, but it was also just that, routine.

She knew he had already turned in his report, because she saw the look on the Director's face when he put in on the desk, but he was still at his desk, which lured her over to him as usual. Her arms laced around him and after a while he brought up a subject that actually she had been contemplating for a while, although not exactly the way he had suggested.

A fit of laughter and retalliation was warrented as she fell into his lap and opted to go the route she usually preferred when she was upset with him, distraction by tongue. Pulling away from him she could tell that although he wasn't exactly off the topic, she had at least pleaded her case.

Shifting in his lap a bit she leaned against his chest, linking her fingers into his and pulling his arm outward. Her fingers tracing lightly on the tattoo he had on the underside of his arm. She liked his tattoos, and had been thinking of getting on herself, but never could think of what she wanted. "I'd spend way too long picking something out I think, but the drinking? I can go for the drinking."

[my_strappyshoes]

She was smirking at the sight of him, the gauze across his chest marking off where he had placed his tattoo. She moved close to him, placing her hand lightly to the exposed skin across from the gauze, pressing a kiss to his mouth nipping at his bottom lip a bit. She pulled away from him a devious stare looking back at him, "Okay that? Hurt."

Her jeans felt odd not quite on her hips anymore either, the waistline folded over and hanging lower than she had intended, but the placement had been low, and well now her jeans were nearly hanging off of her. Her hand instinctively went to the button that wasn't buttoned on her jeans tugging it up a bit, still making sure that the hem wasn't pressing to her backside.

Rachel took her hand off his chest, and slid it down his arm until her fingers laced atop his hand guiding it around her side awkwardly until she could feel his fingers brushing against the tape over the gauze.

"There," she said softly biting her lower lip as her gaze met his.

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