Title: Late Night
Pairing/Characters: Kate Kane/Renee Montoya, Harvey Bullock
Rating: PG-13
Summary: A budding romance from a first date and the aftermath faced by one of Gotham's Finest in the morning.
Notes: Originally posted on tumblr @ablipintime, following a prompt from @mammothluv.
Renee has standards and morals, the kind drilled in to your head and instilled at birth from a Dominican Catholic heritage. But maybe it's the alcohol or the loud music or the dancing that makes her finally, shamelessly give in to Kate's advances. The voice in the back of her head, the one that usually screamed it's too public or what if someone sees? is gone the second Kate's lips are against her neck, the minute Kate's thigh is between her legs, her fingertips teasing at the waistband of her jeans. It's lost in a cloud of expensive cocktails from Gotham's most exclusive club that she would never be able to get in to otherwise. The place makes Molly's look like a total dump.
It's the hot breath beneath her ear, reeking of beer mingled with fruity drinks, purring the question if Renee was enjoying herself. Renee laughs, breathless and low, as her body shifts against Kate's to the music. "What if I said "no"?" she asks back, words rolling against Kate's ear, loud enough to not get lost in the bass and treble.
Kate smirks and bites at the skin of Renee's neck, sucking gently after earning a deep moan of pleasure from the other woman. Her lips leave the spot, nestling against Renee's ear once more. "Then I guess I'd have to fix that," she answers. "I hate not making it to the second date."
And in the dark of the club, Renee kisses her--two drunk friends making out and not caring, like everyone around them. Kate presses back, ignited with fire and passion and an honest determination to win this one, this time, and Renee feels it through her bones.
"You might get lucky," Renee says, finally, locking eyes. This is dangerous ground, but the night is full of times so unlike the norm for her that takes it. The drinks costed more than she makes in a week. The dinner, a full month. Objections sing in her ears but the words flow so effortlessly from her mouth. "Your place?"
Kate's smile is devilish--hell, it hasn't been anything but all night. But it's the most genuine thing that Renee has seen in years and she needs it desperately. Kate unwinds herself, taking Renee's hand to lead her, and gives it a squeeze. "Thought you'd never ask."
Harvey's been staring across the desk at her for a solid ten minutes as she fills out the report. Finally, Renee can't take it any longer. She snaps her focus, looking up to narrow her eyes at her partner. "What?"
The Sergeant shifts in his seat, chair squealing in protest under his considerable weight. He rolls his cigar between his lips, still eyeing Renee, though this time with a bit more caution.
"Nothin'." he provides as an answer, before shifting again. "You jus' look like you've been through hell and back, Montoya." There's something in his eyes, a knowing look of days when Harvey was younger (god, was he ever young?) and had Days Like This, too. He pulls the cigar from his mouth, pointing it at her. "You're wearin' a turtleneck in the middle of summer an' you've drank a whole pot of coffee before noon."
"Don't go there, Harvey." Renee warns. But he will. She knows he will.
"Must'a been a good night, huh?" Harvey's grinning now, the cat that ate the canary. "When'll your pard' get to meet the lucky fella?"
Renee sighs, kneading her temples. She needs more coffee, more sleep, more-- "How about this," Renee begins, knowing compromise always works best. "If you never ask me about my dates again, I'll let you walk me down the aisle at my wedding."
Harvey's grin pulls even larger, lifting his hand to return the cigar back home. He leans back, seemingly content, folding his arms over his chest as Renee returns to business as usual.