Leroy'd gone up to his room in the House, showered and tried to lie down on the bed. Okay, he had lain down, and stared at the ceiling and felt wide awake.  He was too keyed up to sleep. Going in undercover wasn't the easiest thing in the world to do, and getting suddenly pulled out was harder. Add to it the whole fix everybody's brain game and hours of training in using their new-found connections. Not to mention watching Betty Jo and Ian stalk around one another. 

"Cripes," he muttered and gave it up. He pulled on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt, stuck his feet into his Chucks and padded off down to the dining room. A latte and a donut or something, was what he was thinking.

He got a tray, got his latte, found a piece of pie that looked pretty good and turned to find a table. It wasn't like that was a problem this time of night. But he... that's when he spotted her, sitting by herself over in a corner, probably not wanting to be bothered, even more confused and exhausted than he was, since he'd had the brain surgery months ago.

He turned to walk away.

Billie saw him and smiled, waving her hand to get his attention.  "Leroy," she called across the almost empty room.

He turned and smiled at her and altered course so he could join her at her table. "We should be sleeping. Er resting. It's been a pretty rough day, especially for you," he added as he set his tray down and sat opposite her.  "But then I hardly ever do what I'm supposed to do."

She snorted.  "I'm not sure that was a news flash.  But I'm okay, actually.  A little tired, that's all."

"Yeah? How's Bobbie?"

"Asleep.  Nothing ever keeps her awake.  I assume Betty's with Ian.  I have nothing to report about Terry.  Did I miss anyone?"

"I guess you hit everyone. Terry took it all pretty well. I think Coop was jealous though."

"He probably could have asked and Christopher would have been happy to oblige," she said, grinning.  "Rimes was pretty poker-faced through it all.  I guess the meeting he had with Stephen and Ian wasn't pleasant."

Leroy relaxed as he sipped his latte. "I hope Betty can calm old Ian down. Talk about a basket case."

"He's scared for her.  I mean wouldn't you be, with her pregnant and all?"

"But she is a professional. It isn't like she's never done this before," Leroy pointed out reasonably.

"It doesn't matter.  Plus he went through hell when she went in to help Dinah.  Especially after what happened in Oman."  She wrinkled her brow at him, her expression quizzical.  "You mean if you were him you'd be okay with it because she's done it before?"

"Well, I have a lot of respect for all of you. Seems to me I wouldn't respect you if I suddenly got all macho and let the testosterone make me all protective. Why, you like guys to get all protective?"

She shook her head.  "You're kidding?  Right?  You think that would be disrespectful?  It's not that I like guys who get protective.  It's that I like guys who are themselves and trust me to handle them being themselves, even if that means they get protective because they're scared I'm gonna get hurt.  Besides, if it were someone I loved like Ian loves her, knowing I could lose him, that would scare me to death."

"Oh," Leroy said, looking down at the piece of pie he was playing with rather than eating.  "I don't get girls, er women, really well. Every time I think I do, I'm all wrong." He sighed.

She smiled and touched his hand.  "Honey, really, it's not hard.  You've been sold a bill of goods about what women want, leastways women like me.  Just be yourself and it'll all become clear to you.   You're a great guy."

"Yeah, I'm a great guy," he grumped.

"Honey, what's wrong?" she asked, squeezing his hand reassuringly.

"The nice guy never gets the girl, that's what's wrong. I'm the crappy boy next door. Well, it could be worse I guess. I could be the tin dog."  At her look he added, "Doctor Who joke. Never mind."

 "I didn't say you were a nice guy.  I said you were a great guy.  There's a big difference."

"Yeah?" he asked, looking up at her from under his eyebrows. "What's the difference?"

She just smiled at him, soft, sensual and sultry, a smile that was one hundred percent feminine and waited.

"Uhm, so, looking forward to tomorrow?"

"Yeah, I suppose so.  As much as one looks forward to something like that.  Are you?"

"Oh yeah. I get to ogle you guys in short skirts and get paid for it."

"It isn't fair.  I don't get to ogle you," she said.

"Next time we go undercover I'll go in as a rock star and I'll tear my shirt off on stage just for you. How's that?"

"Nope, too long to wait," she said, shaking her head.  "I don't have that sort of patience."

"Hmmm. I'll try out for the boy chorus line. How's that?"

She firmed her lips together and shook her head again.  "Nope.  All I have at the moment are my fantasies.  How long do I have to survive with just those when you're gonna get the real thing starting tomorrow?"

"Uhm... It's a mite chilly to go skinny dipping."

She fought to keep her lips straight and couldn't.  "I thought you Awakened types could readjust reality to suit yourselves."

He laughed. "If I could do that I'd look like Ian."

She frowned at him.  "Why?"  Then she grimaced.  "Never mind, I get it.  Just believe me when I say I hope you never look Ian and always look like you."

"Well, I'm glad you look like you. It was pretty creepy when Betty Jo looked like Jolie and neither one looked like themselves."

"Yeah it was," she agreed, finishing her coffee.  She flashed him her dimples.  "I'm glad you like the way I look."

"Oh yeah. I do. Can I walk you back to your room?"

"Sure," she said, piling their dishes on his tray.  "Are you going to be able to sleep now?"

"Probably not. You?"

"Probably not," she said.  "We could play gin."

"Strip poker?" he asked hopefully.

"That too," she said, looking him in the eye.

He swallowed. "I think I've got a deck of cards somewhere."

"Good."

He took the tray over to the trash bin, emptied it and walked back over to her. He held out his hand to pull her up. "So, uhm. My place or yours?"

"Yours," she said steadily, looking him in the eye again.  "I'm not sure why but I really don't want to be alone tonight.  On the other hand I don't want to mess anything up between us.  Anything at all," she emphasized.

"Not a problem. You can have the bed, I'll take the floor."

"You're serious aren't you?"

"Uhm," he said, his eyes darting around for inspiration. "Well, I remember you saying you don't, you know, with your partners, so uhm,. I figure, and I don't think I could not, you know, and at least I sure wouldn't get any sleep if we, like, shared a bed. So yeah."

"Leroy honey, you're turning out to be the exception to all my rules."  She tilted her head a little.  "Or don't you get what I'm saying?"

"I was a disappointment to my mom too," he replied sadly. "Uhm, which rules?"

"All of them," she repeated and grabbed a fistful of his shirt in her hand and pulled him closer.  "Including the one about partners," she explained and then she kissed him.

He hesitated for a split second, then kissed her back.  When it broke he asked, "How about I zap us to my room."

"Yeah, that would work," she said.  "I'm not in the mood for a leisurely stroll."

It only took a heartbeat and they were there, still in each other's arms. "You sure about this?" he asked.

She nodded.  "Yes. Please tell me you are too," she whispered.

"Oh yeah," he replied and kissed her again.

Leroy's eyes flew open and took in the bed, the wreck that was the sheets and the naked woman curled up against him. He couldn't see her face.  She stirred and snuggled closer, making a soft, incoherent sound as she made herself more comfortable.

He kissed the back of her neck and pulled a sheet up over them.

"Hmmm," she said turning towards him, her fingers drifting on his skin, giving in to tactile fascination.  "That was nice."  She stretched up and kissed him.

When the kiss, a lingering one, broke he said, "So was that."

She smiled, a lazy, pampered cat ensconced in sunshine.  "I like to kiss.  I like the way you kiss."

"Oh yeah?  I like kissing you. I've had dreams about those lips."

"Then how about doing it again?" she suggested.  "Or were the dreams better?  'Cause if they were I'm willing to try harder."

"I'll let you know after another hundred or so kisses, how's that? I mean, I want to give the dream and the reality a fair test."

"See, I knew you were a smart man," she said, her approval of the plan plain.  "We should start now," she told him, and kissed him again in case he was unsure.

He didn't seem unsure about kissing.  Although one of his hands began stroking her too, running along the length of her side, down to the waist and then up the rise of her hip, and back to the curve of her buttock.

She decided she liked being stroked by him and purred encouragement into the kiss, her own hand mirroring the travels of his, undemanding but hopeful, attentive to the flicker of his skin as she let her hand slow and linger, drift away and return.

She felt his arousal against her, hot and hard. His hand flowed down over her stomach to find its way between her thighs, the kiss never ending, only becoming more demanding.  And what he was demanding she was happy to give, opening to him, languid becoming urgent, pleasure merging with rising passion, desire with delight.  She lifted, moving to meet his fingers and heard her purring encouragement change to a low moan of need, the gasping shape of his name spoken into his mouth an offering and a promise.  She wrapped her hand around him, her stroking a counterpoint to the rhythm of his while she hooked a leg over his hip, pulling them closer together.  And his name became a plea, a please that grew out of his name and ended with it.

He entered her gently, a bit hesitantly as he gauged her reaction. When she grabbed his butt and pulled him closer he broke the kiss and began instead kissing her neck, her name on his breath as he breathed in her scent and found a rhythm, his hands on her, lifting her up into his thrusts.

She met him, lifting her leg higher, automatically  pulling him closer so she could take him deeper, gripping him tightly, then loosening with each thrust.  She needed him there, all of him she could get, needed to give him all she had and she didn't wonder why, as her fingers flexed, digging deep into his butt, as she moved with him, in response.  She could feel the flames licking closer, feel the tension rising in both of them.  His breathing was a wild thing against her neck, a repeated, rippled thrill that connected each sensation, each expanding jolt of pleasure and sent a different sort of feeling pooling in her stomach that blended with her want and need, transformed it and left her mindless, thought gone and impossible, leaving only feeling to cling to.

As she climaxed he worked to pleasure her more, waiting almost motionless through each shuddering reaction and then moving again to bring the pain/pleasure right back up to almost impossible levels. When she gasped, "Enough!" he grinned and returned his attention to his own need, finally letting his own desire rise to its inevitable end. He gasped as his climax began grasping her to him tightly, aware on some level of her legs going tightly around his waist holding him in, making him let go, release all of it. He was beyond thinking at that point too, his body in control, shuddering to its conclusion. When it was over he was lying on her, the both of them sweaty and exhausted, both too weak-muscled to even think about moving.

Dawn was filling the sky and he was still holding her close when she moved next.  Her head was cradled on his shoulder, his resting on it.  His breathing a gentle, steady stirring of her hair that was the most comforting thing she'd ever felt.  There was a rightness to it she just accepted and let sink deep inside of her where it settled and stayed.

"We're gonna have to get up soon," he finally said, regret in every word.

"I know," she said.  "Unless we want to find new jobs."

"It's a thought," he replied, mulling over her words. "Pays pretty good though. Benefits aren't bad. And the colleagues are, well, a definite plus."

"True.  Definitely a plus," she said and went silent for a minute or two.  Finally, her fingers absent-mindedly moving on his chest, "I ah, well I don't usually...I mean I need to be sure you don't...that I wasn't too...well pushy or anything.  I don't usually...I mean I'm glad we did, but...well..." She ground to a halt finally, blushing furiously and hating herself for feeling shy with him.

"Uhm, you're sorry we... I mean, I thought... "

"NO! No." She lifted up to see his face, horrified he'd think she was sorry.  He couldn't think that, not after...could he?  "It's just...I just don't usually...I mean I was pretty pushy and all," she said.  "And I'm sure it looked like I was, that I did this...well a lot."

"Oh geez, no. No.. I was being, uhm, I was kinda afraid to think. Well, you and your sisters said you didn't with co-workers and what with your heart being broken in New Orleans and all and I .. I wanted it so bad I was afraid I was reading you wrong, so.. so I'm glad you made it clear to me because, well... because I've wanted to hold you like this for... for forever."

"You have?" she asked, almost whispered, awed by the idea.  She searched his face, wonder and a dawning something on hers. 

He nodded, his big wide eyes never leaving hers. "I thought it was pretty obvious. And then I screwed up and kissed you and I thought you'd think I was some kinda creep trying to take advantage and honest I wasn't I just..  I just wanted to kiss you."

"I know," she said softly, a smile hovering.  "If you hadn't this never would have happened.  I thought you were...well like immune or something...a brother kind of thing."

"Oh. Well, not so much."

She stifled a giggle.  "Obviously."

He grinned. "Yeah, really. So, you wanna shower here, or should I zap you to your room? Or can you do that now?"

"Probably.  If I shower here how late will we be?"

"Real late, I'm thinkin'."  His lips were twitching.

"Then I probably shouldn't," she said, looking disappointed.  She leaned over and kissed him.  "Next time," she said, ignoring the frisson flip in her stomach at the words.

"Yeah. You be careful in Vegas."

"You too," she said solemnly.  "Please."

He nodded, kissed her, and then she was gone.