milliways_bar | (no subject)

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Bill is downstairs after some breakfast. He sits down at the counter, and before he can even ask, Bar provides him with a loaded plate; eggs, bacon, sausage, hashbrowns, a short stack of pancakes, a cup of coffee and orange juice.

Bill grins at the offering, and is about to say thank you when a newspaper appears. Looking at the front page headline his smile falls.

Mardi Gras in Miami

It's not really the headline, but the part underneath that tells how the Saints defeated the Colts 31-17 in the Superbowl that's just killed his good mood.

Bill lifts the paper and shakes his head.

"Aw, c'mon, no. I didn't even know they were playin'."

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He smiles at her, this thumb smoothing across her cheek.

"Losin' ain't so bad with a consolation prize. 'Course, seems like that was your plan all along."

"That's not necessarily true -- I would've indulged you if you lost."

She turns her cheek into the brush of the pad of his thumb, craving more contact.

"And anyway, who says the prize is just a kiss?"

"I know you would've," he replies.

A beat, and his smile turns a little wicked.

"So what's my prize then for winnin'?"

She bites her lower lip, pretending to mull over the possibilities, then casts a glance toward the surf.

"I'm thinkin'," and she drawls the word in a teasing approximation of Bill's accent, "there's a swim in your future, sheriff."

He laughs at her drawl, then follows her gaze out towards the water.

"A swim, huh? Not alone, I hope."

"Of course not."

She gives his T-shirt a teasing tug before stepping back to shuck her yoga pants and peel off her camisole, revealing the powder-blue bikini beneath.

He tugs off his shirt, dropping it down onto the towel while watching her.

Stepping close again, his hands run over the exposed skin of her sides.

"Let's hit the water."

A warm shiver ripples around her ribs; she hooks a finger into his board shorts and leads them toward the water, the smells of salt and summer filling her nose and lungs.

When they reach the shallows and begin to wade deeper, she can't help a low, appreciative murmur at the water's near-perfect temperature.

He walks with her, bare feet sinking into the soft sand, his heels leaving small pools that are erased by the lapping waves.

As they enter the water he moves around in front of her, backing into the surf, smiling at her as they go out further, the water coming up to lap against his back and shoulder blades.

"This was a good idea."

She draws close enough to rest her hands on his shoulders, her knees brushing his underwater.

A few more steps, and she's submerged to her neck, rising on her toes to keep her chin above the waterline.

Her palms slide along the slope of his shoulders, fingers clasping loosely at his nape.

"This -- "

Her nose skims his.

"Was a great idea."

He treads water to keep them afloat, smiling at the closeness and contact.

"Mm. Which one of us had it again?"

"Me," she tells him, a soft breath of a laugh ghosting over his lips as she inches closer.

"I'm the brains behind this operation, remember? You're the muscle."

"An' the looks," he adds with a smirk.

His torso brushes hers and he closes more of the distance between their mouths.

"I do like your ideas."

"Those, too," she agrees, her lips almost touching his when she nods.

Her arms tighten a fraction around his neck, skin sliding against water-slick skin.

"Mmm, well, for the record -- "

She tilts her head, her lower lip grazing the crease of his mouth.

"I like your looks."

The corners of his mouth turn up into a smirk, and he tilts his head to brush his lips against hers.

"I like just about everything about you."

A beat.

"'Cept the way you like t'cheat."

He kisses her hard then, smiling against her mouth.

Her protest is muffled, lost against his lips and tongue.

Her fingers thread into his hair at his nape and she shifts in the water, wrapping her legs around his waist.

(It's not cheating, but it's not exactly fair, either.)

He breaks the kiss to let out a quick "Ulp!" of surprise as he nearly topples over.

Laughing, he wraps his arms around her and backs them up a bit until his feet have a stronger purchase.

"I forgot that you're also sneaky."

The water's warm and Bill's warmer; a pleasant shiver runs through her when he wraps her in his arms.

"Me?"

She shakes her head, her nose brushing his.

"I think you're confused."

"Am I?"

He turns them in a slow circle, eyes on her and smile going nowhere.

"I don't think I am. Think I know you pretty well, actually."

"Oh, so that means -- "

Her lips wander from the corner of his mouth to his jaw, from his jaw to his ear.

"You know I'm going to keep arguing with you until you admit I'm right."

"Yeah, I know," he admits.

His chin tilts, inviting more contact.

"But, I like the case you're makin', so I'm gonna let you argue a little more."

She chuffs a laugh into the pulse-point below the corner of his jaw, and she tastes salt when she licks her lips, her tongue flickering over his damp skin.

"I don't know if you could handle the full presentation out here."

"I think I'm handlin' things pretty well," he replies, giving her ass a playful squeeze.

"But, I might be convinced t'change the settin', if it's in my interest, I suppose."

Her thighs tighten around his waist, lips curving into a smirk that's equal parts innocent and devious.

"I'm not sure I can approve a change of venue until we get in that swim I promised -- wouldn't that be against the prize rules?"

He laughs, forehead resting against hers.

"I guess it would be, but you're not makin' swimmin' all that easy."

Tightening his hold, he adds, "Mind, that wasn't a complaint."

They'll get around to swimming, eventually.