Crawling Distraction and Everything After 2/?

by Ki Finn

Author: Ki Finn
Title: Crawling Distraction and Everything After 2/? Rating: NC-17
Pairing: See part 1
Archive: Sure but email me
Feedback: Sure
Disclaimer: ER and its characters are the property Constant C Productions, Amblin Entertainment, and Warner Brothers Television et al. This story is not for profit. It is for entertainment purposes only. And heavens let it entertain someone. Notes: If BDSM offends or outrages you stop reading now. I mean it. However, the whole story follows the credo of "safe, sane, and consentual."

Susan started to adjust her shirt and then stopped, deciding there was no real reason to be nervous. She knew this woman. Though she did know this woman, so perhaps that was reason to be nervous, though whether the Abby Lockhart she knew and the woman standing beside her were at all alike remained to be seen.

Abby had lit a cigarette and was blowing careful smoke rings. Susan grinned, trying to figure out something to say. "I bet Ms. Manners never covered this."

Abby laughed an the column of smoke rings collasped in the gush of air from her lips. She had never thought of Susan Lewis as strictly vanilla, but she had never imagined she was this far from vanilla. She had debated whether to say anything to Susan at all, to even move from her table to say hello but as Susan had leaned against the bar and tried to look relaxed Abby felt obligated to throw her a life line -- and she felt something else as well: intrigued. "I suppose I could ask what's a woman like you doing in a place like this?" Abby asked, glancing around at the bar and its inhabitants.

Susan laughed. "I could ask you the same thing."

"Should we leave it at we have somethings in common other than medicine and John Carter?"

"Sounds good to me."

"Great. Want to join me?"

"What the hell, lead on."

Abby laughed and leaned into Susan, "Be careful who you say to around here," and walked toward a table. Susan started, then laughed, followed Abby and hoped she was kidding.

An awkward silence built after they sat; they both sipped their drinks, Abby finished one cigarette and lit another, Susan toyed with the idea of bumming one then thought against it. They both struggled for a way to release any one of the hundred questions meeting each other in this bar raised. Instead, neither said anything for several minutes and simply watched the few couples swaying on the dance floor, taking time to recover from mutal shock. Abby found herself content to stare at Susan, appreciating the woman in a way she had never allowed herself before. Though she tried to police her fantasies and keep her co-workers from them, Susan had cropped up from time to time. Now Abby found herself wondering guiltlessly if Susan's breasts turned as red as her face when she blushed.

Susan, however, grew more nervous and started to talk to break the tension. "You know Abby, I never would have pegged you for being into this." Not a subtle comment, but an effective one.

Abby's eyebrows shot up. "Really?"


"I could say the same thing about you."


"I mean, with all the stories about you and Mark, and Carter, I figured you for a nice straight girl."

"And with the Abby and Luka and Abby and John stories, I thought you were a nice straight girl."

Abby smiled. "So we can agree that you shouldn't make assumptions based on the rumour mill."

They both laughed and the tension eased somewhat. Abby finished her cigarette and jabbed it into the ash tray. She stood and held out her hand to Susan. "So, want to show me just how bent you are?" Susan took it and Abby led the way to the dance floor.

There were only a few other couples on the floor but the bar was so small it seemed crowded. The two women moved easily to the music, the steady bass vibrating in their ears, pounding in their stomachs. Dancing was far easier than talking. Abby pulled Susan to her as the music's tempo changed and wrapped one arm around her waist, lazily drapping the other across her shoulders. The way Abby grabbed Susan, directed her movements, pressed their bodies together left no question in Susan's mind as to Abby's role, nor did Susan's acquiesence leave any doubt in Abby's. Abby proved the point further by quickly turning her so Susan's back was pressed to her front. The tempo changed again and Abby's hands moved with it as Susan reached behind her to keep Abby's body as close to her's as possible. She had forgotten how good, how right it felt to let go go to ceede control to someone else, to accept what the other person was willing to give. And Abby gave freely; she let her hands wander from shoulder to breast to back to ass to stomach and repeated with endless variation. They both allowed themselves to sink deeper into the music, into the steady warmth of flesh and leather. Abby rested her chin on Susan's shoulder and spoke into her ear. "You're liking this?"


"I wonder what else you like?"

"I like lots of things."


Susan turned in Abby's arms. "I think I should finish my beer." There was no way to mistake what was happening; Abby was pursuing her and Susan was slowing down, waiting to be caught.

Abby ran a hand down Susan's cheek loving the softness of the skin under her fingers, wondering what the texture of Susan's skin was like elsewhere. "Yes, you should finish your beer," she said, leaning closer to Susan, so close that Abby's lips were on Susan's cheek, leaving the faded mark of lipstick behind. Abby worked her way in easy kisses from Susan's cheek to her ear and whispered, "and when you're done with your beer we can discuss what you like and what I like." She bit lightly on Susan's earlobe and then broke away to lead Susan back to their table.

"What do you like, Abby?" Susan asked quietly when they were sitting.

Abby grinned and toyed with an unlit cigarette as Susan took a nervous swallow of beer. "Oh let me see, the ocean, first rainstorm in spring, bondage, John Waters movies, snow peas, a good cigarette, a woman screaming my name as she orgasms, you know, the usual.

Susan nooded but didn't meet Abby's eyes.

"What's wrong Susan?"

Susan shook her head.

"Tell me what's wrong."

Susan was afraid to speak; she knew that her voice would crack when she tried. She tried to swallow away a lump of fear, of all her fears, in her throat, but it didn't work. Abby took her chin in her hand and titlted her face upward. "Scared?"

Susan nodded.

"No need to be."

"It's just ... "

"I know but it's okay."

"Is it?"

"Absolutely fine," Abby said, taking Susan's hand. "Nothing will happen that you don't want to happen. And you wouldn't be here if you didn't want something to happen." Susan thought for a moment, then looked at Abby, smiled and nodded.

Abby stood and took Susan up with with her and pulled them through the crowd to the back of the bar. The lights from the dance floor flashed like fireworks on the wall, the stopped altogether as they rounded a corner. Abby's grip was tight on Susan's hand. She chucked her hip against the door of the washroom and sniggered as she led Susan into one of the stalls. She pushed Susan against the wall; they were very close, their breasts were touching. Abby looked at Susan and saw the excitement in her eyes and all but whispered, "If you want to keep going look at the floor. If not, look at me and tell me this never happenned." Susan looked at the floor, saying nothing, moving only her eyes. Abby leaned closer and kissed Susan, her tongue easing past her lips, tracing her teeth. She drapped her arm around Susan's waist and Susan repeated the movement.

"You know to use the traffic signals right Susan?" Abby asked as Susan rest her head on Abby's shoulder, peppering her neck with kisses. "Mmm-hmm," she said against Abby's ear.

Abby broke away from the kiss. "Turn around and bend over." Susan tried to be graceful but the stall was a tight squeeze and she brushed against Abby as she moved. She put her hands on the back of the toliet and felt Abby's hands on her ass, stroking a pattern of eights. Then a hard smack which made Susan gasp even through her jeans. "Nice ass," she said, "now turn around and undo your shirt."

Susan untied the the string holding up her shirt. Abby uncovered her breasts; she took one in each hand and traced Susan's nipples with her thumbs. She leaned closer, resting her lips against her ear, lightly biting the lobe. Susan shuddered, pushed her body closer, loving the feel of her skin against the vinyl of Abby's outfit. "You enjoying yourself?"

Susan moaned, pushed harder against her. Abby grabbed her nipple and pinched it between her thumb and forefinger and pinched it. "When I ask you a question answer either yes Abby or no Abby. Now are you enjoying this?" She punctuated the question with a hard nip at Susan's ear.

"Yes, Abby."

Abby eased off her grip on Susan's nipple as she laid a trail of kisses down Susan's neck. Susan fought not to shiver but the goosebumps on her skin gave her away. Her hands shook with the urge to open her jeans and show Abby just how excited she was.

Abby started to speak between kisses and nips. "If there's something you want or want to do it's please Abby and if you want to stop or slow down, traffic signals, red and yellow." She slid her hand to the top of Susan's jeans and undid the buttons. "Of course, is you think you can stand more, there's always green. That fairly clear?" Abby slid her hand into Susan's jeans and slipped between her thighs.

"Yes, Abby," Susan moaned as she found her clit. She bucked her hips against Abby as she played with her clit and pushed two then three fingers inside of her, happy that Susan was so wet, so eager. She started and easy rythmn of thrusts and then said, "No coming, Susan."

Susan's eyes popped open and it was only then that she realised she had closed them. Her mouth opened, and a smart comment about to escape when instead she moved her body harder onto Abby's finger's and said, "Please, Abby."

"No, I think you should wait."

"Please, Abby."

"Not here, not now." She withdrew her hand, lightly passing her finger's over Susan's clit before pulling her hand from her jeans. Abby started to button her fly as Susan struggled not to moan, not to beg, not to throw herself at Abby, pin her to the side of the stall and fuck her. None of them were gentle desires so she chose instead to do nothing.

"Yes, Abby."

"Do up your shirt." Abby opened the door to the stall and walked out. Susan tried to tie the leather strips quickly but her sudden panic at Abby's departure left her clumsy. She stepped out of the stall to see Abby leaning against the wall, about to light a cigarette. She shot Susan a familar lop-sided grin but her eyes didn't match the smile. They promised something else entirely.

"You really should come home with me, Susan."

"Yes, Abby."

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