Can't a girl make a call? (fic)
The day dragged for at least thirty six hours, no matter what the clock said. They did good work, closed the case they'd been agonizing over for weeks, and even got through preliminary reports for the new case they caught. Every tick of the clock was one step further Alex Eames was from her dinner date, not one step closer. If she was too late, there would be no date at all. Finally she excused herself so she could make a call. Hiding in an observation room, she leaned against the big window and closed her eyes while she dialed.
The familiar voice answered with great reluctance. He knew why she was calling and didn't want to hear it at all. She sighed, easily able to picture him shaking his head as he pushed from his desk, and started to apologize. He cut her off with a sharp word, startling her. His next instruction made her laugh right up until he repeated it. Glancing over at the door and then checking to see that both intercoms were off, she complied. Her hand slid into her rapidly opened pants and she found her clit. While he chuckled on the other end of the line, she moaned softly.
The call, and her shuddering climax, took no more than ten minutes, but just as she hung up Bobby knocked on the observation room door. She didn't hurry nearly as fast to get her pants closed as she had opening them and was straightening her shirt when he walked in. Jamming her phone in her pocket, Alex snarled at him. "You couldn't wait another five minutes?"
He looked hurt and then annoyed. "It's not like you to throw it in my face that you're canceling a date and I don't have one."
She laughed, his attitude calming her anger and reducing it to indulgent amusement. Walking past him, she shot back over her shoulder, "Get real, Bobby. I know it's been a rough year but, just this once, this isn't about you at all."
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