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inafieldofdaisies · 1 year ago

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WIP Wednesday | Tagged by @socially-awkward-skeleton @direwombat

This Wednesday we have more of John's misadventures from his and Sabrina's AU as a treat. Starting up with a little snippet involving her mother, then moving onto his arrival for an impromptu dinner. Don't ask what happens inbetween to rattle the gremlin, that bit is still under construction.

Upon the call's end, John dropped his phone on the bed, finding himself unable to wipe off the grin that had taken over his face despite the noises next door continuing, and that only grew wider at the new message notification as he finally took out his newly purchased clothes from the bags he had spent a good while ignoring. "Wearing the suit from today again is out of the question.", he reasoned to himself while laying down pieces of clothing on his bed. He wasn't one to women's houses for 'dinner'. Hell, he usually avoided invitations like those like the plague, choosing to spend the night in a neutral place for both parties instead. His current predicament was definitely throwing him for a loop, especially since he had no idea what she'd greet him in. The thought Sabrina might not even have been asking him over for food made him forget the task at hand for a beat. "No. She insisted it's not like that. But what if… what if it is?", his eyes narrowed at the wicked possibility just when something crashed loudly in 310, putting an end to his embarrassingly long attempt at deciding what to wear, "Focus. And you can't sleep with her anyway, Duncan." The last part came off in a tone matching Clive's, yet the reminder did little to banish the desire within him. He settled for a dark gray wool suit and quickly decided to forego the matching vest and tie to go with them. Underneath, he threw on a simple dress shirt with a couple of buttons unbuttoned at the top since he still felt he could breathe easier without anything snaking around his neck like his father's iron grip from the olden days. "Don't think of them. It just makes you feel worse after.", John hated how his voice shook as he regarded himself in the bathroom mirror and did his best to focus on styling his hair in place instead of entertaining memories that belonged in the past.

"You're twisted, wrong. But we can fix it. You won't turn into a disappointment, John.", the words materialized on their own, a deafening cacophony of his parents voices that threatened to hang over him as a dark cloud. He slammed the bathroom door, set on leaving them back there to keep company on the persisting grunts of his neighbors, refusing to let anything ruin whatever his night with Sabrina would bring. On his way out, he grabbed his coat and came to an abrupt halt at the heels sounding in the hallway as he anticipated an unpleasant run-in with a certain redhead. When both the silence aside from the couple's usual noises and a look through the peephole hinted at the coast being clear for him to make his escape, he promptly exited his room and for once luck seemed to be on his side with the elevator remaining empty. The ride down to the lobby seemed to last an eternity and the second the doors opened, he was greeted by another unpleasant sight: the brunette that had checked him in on his first night was deep in animated conversation with another employee, both appearing completely oblivious to his approach as she let out a sigh after saying way too loudly, "He called to complaing about the noise like dozen times. I don't know what he expected me to do, and I swear, Lucas, anytime 310 would pick up, they were still doing it while talking to me." "Shit.", the man whispered before asking, "When are they checking out? Do you think it maybe turns them on to have an audience?" "I don't know. But I'm not paid enough for any of this. Let alone being forced to listen to a man half-talking, half-moaning over the phone. I've never wanted to hang up more." "Want me to go get you something sweet?", a hand grasped hers, and she finally cracked a smile at the suggestion. "At least I have you here." John shook his head at the display of affection and blantant discussion of guests out in the open, drawing closer to the two and clearing his throat to grab their attention.

The gleam in the receptionist's eyes evaporated when they moved to his and she quickly shook off her collegue's hold, smile dropping for a second before she forced it again. "Good evening, Mr. Duncan", the name made the man spin around and echo her greeting with narrowed gaze. "I will be right back, Jules." She nodded despite looking like she wanted anything but for him to leave all of a sudden. "Good evening.", John muttered evenly as he leaned against the reception desk. "Is 310 still giving you trouble? I'm really sorry about-" "Yes. For two hours now, miss.", he cut off her apology, "But I'm not here because of that." If he didn't have other plans, John's next course of action would have been to ruin her night like his had been, especially after the way nothing had actually been done to ensure the noises from the room next to his would cease. Not to mention gossiping about me to your colleague. Still, for once he pushed down the urge to put someone in their place with Penny's drunken call fresh on his mind, trying to imagine how Sabrina would take on the situation. With kindness, most certainly.

His words seemed to put her at ease a little, "Oh, I truly am sorry to hear that, sir. How can I assist you then?" "I need you to call a car for me." She reached for one of the hotel phones, "Cab or personal driver?" "Whatever would get here faster." She nodded and dialed a number, talking in a hushed voice into the receiver as his baby blues shifted to the hotel's entrance, giddiness making his body feel lighter. "30 minutes for a driver, sir. Would you like me to call you a cab in that case?", the news were a proverbial cold shower to the desire he felt at the thoughts of Sabrina, and he took a deep breath before facing the woman as she held the phone to her ear, clearly waiting for his answer. "I-" "Mr. Duncan.", heels sounded behind him before Candice Donovan was at his side, standing way too close for his liking. If he had to guess she was doing a little observing on her own, just like he had done minutes prior. "A cab.", he replied hurriedly, before turning to her and mirroring her smile, taking note of the expression she wore even better than the no doubt expensive dress that peeked through her unbuttoned coat. He had no doubt what it harbored. Intent to strike. "Nonsense, darling.", a hand landed on his forearm when she addressed the woman across them, "Julie, no cab would be needed." "I'm-" "My driver is waiting out front, Mr. Duncan. I will be more than happy to drop you off wherever you need to be.", her sweeter than honey tone put him on edge. "I appreaciate the suggestion, but-" She cocked her head, "I don't bite, Mr. Duncan. It's a simple gesture for a collegue." There's nothing simple or innocent about this 'gesture'. Yet accepting her offer meant getting to Sabrina faster and not having to climb into a cab and potentially get into more trouble on his way. Her arm wrapped around his elbow, pulling him towards the exit as the receptionist muttered a quiet, "Have a great evening." Candice released her hold the second they were on the curb, slipping into the backseat of her car when John pulled open the door for her in place of her driver and silently cursed the manners instilled into him. Don't do it. "You coming, darling?", she questioned with a smirk and despite all of his instincts warning him how bad of an idea it was, he climbed in, too, putting as much distance as he could between them. "Reginald, we will be making a stop on the way. Where are you headed, Mr. Duncan?"

[John's] hand rapped on the door, heartbeat picking up again when he heard footsteps approaching and it swung open. "Hey.", Sabrina uttered out with a smile and he wasted no time in crossing over the threshold and wrapping his arms around her. He pulled her in his embrace, face burying in her soft hair as her scent invaded his senses. "John?", she asked in confusion, amusement instead of alarm coloring her tone at the brazen greeting, "Are you okay?" "I had the worst night imaginable… just humor me for a second. Then you can tell me how strange it is." Her hands that had stayed by her side to that moment gingerly encircled his waist, "I was starting to wonder if something had come up or maybe that you had decided to ghost me." No matter that he knew the hug was dragging for far too long, he couldn't bring himself to let go, until she spoke up again, "John? I'm kind of freezing here." Her words were his wake up call, eyes swooping over her form, the denim shorts, top and thin knitted oversized cardigan she wore as she wrapped her hands around herself. "Sorry.", he muttered before moving out of the way so she could shut the door and stop the cold from entering the house further. He watched her head down the hallway as he remained glued to the spot, feeling absolutely out of place and realizing he had, in fact, overdressed.

"You gonna stand by the front door the whole night?", she asked quietly, eyes shining with mischief. "No. Of course not.", her bare feet and shoes lined on a rack at the entrance told him he was expected to take his off, too. Her attention remained on him, making him worry he was fumbling with something as simple as that, and she was seeing through his poised act and how nervous he felt deep down. Get yourself together. He quickly stored his loafers by the door, deciding it would be too far to put them among her own, then shed his coat and threw it over his arm. Silently, he followed her deeper into the house, the same way he had at her precinct, and just like back then, her oversized cardigan did its hardest to conceal his view. The first thing to hit him about the living room, he found himself entering, was how it felt like a home, not the sterile spaces he had grown up in where everything had been for show, but meaninglessness if you glaced at it for too long. "Is it what you expected?", Sabrina asked, taking note of how he was looking around. "I-", he hesitated, not really having thought of what her home might look like, instead, his mind had been preoccupied with other less innocent things, "It's lovely." "Sit.", she pulled out one of the chairs at the dining table before disappearing into what he assumed was the kitchen. He slipped into the seat after placing his coat over the back of one of the empty chairs.

"Now, I know it's not fine dining.", there was uncertainty in her gaze when she rounded the table with a dish in hand, "But-" "I didn't come for fine dining, Detective. As long as Oliver doesn't jump out from behind the couch, I'm happy." He meant it completely and even more when she placed his dinner in front of him, his mouth watering despite the fact he had eaten already. "I was worried I would have to reheat them twice." "Sorry." She grinned, "Don't be. I just wanted to make a good first impression. Wine or are we behaving tonight?" He suspected he would probably feel tempted to agree to drinking poison if she asked with the same gleam in her eyes, "I could use a drink." She returned shortly with a bottle of red and two glasses, and before she could pour it, he got up, "Let me." "You're the guest-" Her argument was cut short when his fingers brushed hers, and he grabbed the wine, pouring a glass for her first, then for himself before sitting back down across from her. "To-", he paused as he raised his hand in a toast, "saving me from having to listen to whatever performance they had prepared for me as encore back at the hotel." Sabrina let out a laugh and clicked her glass to his, "Think they're still going at it?" "I'm not a betting man, but I would certainly bet on that." "That's some stamina, I'd give them that." "That's one one to look at it." "And you're a patient man.", she added after taking a sip from her wine. Not exactly.

She propped her head on her hand, focusing on him as he picked up his fork and took a first bite from what she had deemed "leftovers". The sautéed potato melting on his tongue with flavor that resulted in an embarrassing noise of satisfaction escaping him. "It's-" "Cold? Did it get cold?", her frown was another level of adorable. "Better than fine dining." She huffed, "You're pulling my leg now." "I'm not." The look on her face told him she wasn't buying the genuine compliment. "I mean it. The company is even better." He wasn't holding back by then, trying to blame his bluntness on the wine when he had barely taken a sip himself. "Right back at you, Mr. Duncan.", her smile was intoxicating enough by itself, he realized. Her fingers breezed over the stem of her wine glass, lashes fluttering before she added, "I got the flowers." His lips twisted into a smirk, yet something in her tone piqued his interest more, he took his time working on next bite then asked, "Did you like them?" "They were beautiful, but John," "Yes?" Her eyes rose up from her glass to his, "It was too much." "Nonsense."

"I hardly did anything to warrant you sending me a giant bouquet like that." "You stayed on the phone while a bat made an attempt on my life. Sending you flowers was the least I could do." She quirked up a smile, "A kill attempt? A tad bit extreme." "Not if you were there." "I did for a second wish to be a fly on the wall, not gonna lie." Her words made him shift in his seat, especially with the knowledge they wouldn't have been facing a bat issue had she been there, instead probably giving his neighbors a show of their own. "What did you do last night before I called?", the question left his mouth before he could shove more food into it. She laced her fingers together and bit her lip in contemplation, muttering nonchalantly, "Be good, and I might show you after dinner." Fuck. Don't go there, brain. It was too late, his mind drank her words like a starving man. Her playful grin didn't help the situation as John blinked slowly and did his best to keep his composure in check while on the inside he pictured taking her right then and there on the table, "It's nothing spectacular, so don't go expecting too much." You're killing me here. "Detective." "Mmm?" "I look forward to it.", his voice dipped, and she appeared completely oblivious to the effect her words had on him as she took a sip of her wine. More than you could ever imagine.

He finished his meal in record time while Sabrina swooped into telling him how excited she was about finally getting a development in one of her cases without actually revealing any sensitive information. As she did that, it took him a minute to remember he wasn't casing a witness and looking for weak links or potential violations of code of conduct. At least not yet. Her features lit up differently when she talked about her work, all of her emotions and dedication shining through. With nothing to keep him distracted, he eventually reached across the table and grabbed her hand, thumb caressing the inside of her wrist where her pulse picked up in a similar pace to his own heart. "Desert?", she asked slowly, adding more fuel to his desire. I'd take you. Gladly. Thankfully, he didn't say that, instead replying a simple, "What do you have in mind?" "I stopped by the diner again after work. Sav loves their chocolate pies, so I got us some. I know I told you how delicious they are, and then Ollie stole the only slice left…" "I'd love that." She nodded and rose up quickly, gathering his empty plate on her way out, "Be right back." John felt glad she hadn't asked for him to follow her because his pants were growing tighter by the minute in her presence to the point he was trying to picture himself in the freezing shower back at his hotel in place of all the fantasies plaguing him currently. So far, he was failing miserably. Sabrina reappeared next to him, startling him a little, "Your pie, Mr. Duncan. With a tiny delay." She placed a piece of the pie whose taste he had been trying to picture throughout the day after the show Oliver had made out of eating it. "And you?" "Me?" "Where's yours?" She shook her head as the realization hit him, "There's only this slice, all yours, Mr. Duncan. I've had it plenty of times."

Of course you're giving me your desert. His hand shot out and grabbed her wrist when she made a move to retreat to her seat, "Sit here instead." Hazel eyes darted from him to the chair next to his, and after a few beats, she complied. He dropped his hold on her arm to lift up the fork and gather a bite of the pie, bringing it up to her mouth first, "We're splitting it then, it's only fair." Her lips parted to accept his offering, the way they closed around the cutlery haunting him as he scooped some of the desert for himself next. Truly killing me here, Detective. The chocolate, whipped cream, and mousse tasted even sweeter, making him wonder if somewhere inbetween he was picking up on her own taste, too. "I will grab another fork.", she muttered, and before she had the chance to get up, he lifted his hand to her mouth with another serving. "We can share this one." His worry about taking things too far was short-lived when she let him feed her again. "Delicious, right?", her tongue absently breezed over her bottom lip when he took a bite. "Absolutely." The next time he brought the fork to her mouth and she licked at the whipped cream left upon the cutlery's retreat, he completely forgot about taking a bite for himself. His intrusive thoughts took over, the fork cluttering against the plate as he dropped it to grasp her cheek. "Remember that kiss from earlier, Sabrina…"

The look she gave him was a knowing one before nodding quickly. He didn't have to be told twice, leaning in closer to cover her mouth with his. The kiss began innocent enough with his lips moving at a slower pace over hers, testing the waters until he couldn't hold back any longer. Not with how sweet she tasted - far better than the goddamned pie on its own. Or the way she let out a sigh of content and kissed him back. His tongue used the first presented opportunity to sneak in, setting on exploring her mouth before meeting her own. Slow down. His hands had other ideas as one of them hoisted her by the waist until she was out of her chair and onto his lap while the other angled her face to deepen the kiss. Her fingers traveled up his arms until they came to rest on his shoulders, and she seemed just as lost in the sensation and dance their tongues had slipped into. Until she pulled back as if finally remembering herself. "John.", his name was a whisper when she leaned her forehead against his, sounding as breathless as he felt while his heart carried on the reoccurring faster rhythm. Go ahead. Ask me… I'd take you to bed, Clive, Mooney, anyone be damned. He waited for the anticipated question to come as they remained in their position until a phone decided to ruin the mood. Sadly, not his. Otherwise, he would have thrown the pesky device across the room, not caring who had decided to call, or if it would survive the flight.

"Tell me you're going to let it go to voicemail.", he said against her lips before diving in for another kiss while the ringing persisted. Whoever had chosen the worst moment to require something for her, was dead set on reaching her. "I can't.", she broke their liplock and gave him an apologetic look, "It might be important." Sabrina clambered off his lap and rushed out of the living room as she pulled her phone out of her cardigan. "I will be right back.", she called out quietly before greeting the person on the other line. Minutes ticked by, the tingling in his lips fading away while he sat at the dining table with his gaze pointed at the kitchen doorway, hoping she'd reappear and pick up where they had left off. Eventually, he got up and walked over to the unlit fireplace, taking the opportunity to take a closer look at the photographs she had on the build-in shelf above it. A dimly lit group shot of Sabrina squished between what he guessed were fellow Detectives at her presinct, if Oliver's presence was anything to go by. The man from her phone homescreen was among the unfamiliar faces and had his hand over her shoulder, the look he wore leaving a bad taste in John's mouth. He forced his attention to a different frame - her and presumably her sister smiling brightly at the camera with an impressive lake surrounded by pines behind them. Another vacation shot stood next to it - a photograph of a young, dark-haired girl hugging a man, the gray in his hairline matching Sabrina's. "Sorry.", she mumbled as she came to stand by John's side, having sneaked up on him yet again, "I'm the worst host." He glanced at her from the corner of his eye as he returned the frame he had picked off from the shelf. "Nonsense. I was keeping myself occupied." "I can see that."

"Your father?", he guessed as he nodded at the picture in front of him, noting the absense of her mother. "Yeah.", the way she hugged herself made him think he should have picked a different question, the fact she offered nothing more just cemented the theory. "Everything okay with the call?" She nodded, "Yeah." God. That word again. The moment is totally gone, isn't it? He turned to face her fully, "It's getting late… I should probably get going, Detective." It was the last thing he actually wanted to do, but the call had inevitably broken the spell between them, leaving an air of awkwardnes to lurk around. Sabrina shifted her weight from one foot to the other, seeming uncertain at the announcement, "Oh, okay." Yet, instead of marching over to the table and grabbing his coat then wishing her goodbye, he took a step forward, his hand grasping hers, "Do you want me to?" Her gaze searched his face, and he held his breath as he waited for her answer, "Not really. No." "Really?", the corner of his mouth quirked up, pride taking over at the fact he had read her correctly and he still had a chance. "I mean, I assume you plan on grabbing a cab to your hotel?", he nodded, so she continued, "And there's no guarantee your lovely neighbors won't be continuing with their shenanigans in the early hours, especially with what you told me…"

He bit back a smirk at her explanation, seeing clearly how she was trying her best to explain her reasoning behind whatever she had on her mind, when he would have all the right to complain if 310 were still going at it upon his return. "It's probably too forward. Hell, it's definitely too forward. But I was going to offer you to stay here, I would be less concerned, especially with your track record." "You're worried about me?", another step brought him closer to her. "About you getting back in one piece after dragging you across town to see me. I was confident you would be just fine at your hotel yesterday, and then the bat happened." "Ask me.", he whispered as the air around them grew heavy, excitement coursing through his body. "You could stay here… if you want.", Sabrina tip-toed over asking him plainly. Close enough. "Are you going to make me sleep on the floor?", he pushed further, the worry he had been too direct dissipating when she smiled at the remark to her previous joke about her "harem" of men. You certainly have enough potential candidates in the photo. "Nope. As long as you behave yourself and don't get my house infested with critters." A smirk broke free, "The couch?"

"I was going to offer you the guest room, Mr. Duncan. It would be gentler on your back. Just on one condition…" Her smile was quickly pushing through all the conviction he had for holding himself back, pulling him in. He chuckled as he tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, "Yes?" "You have to promise me to take no legal action for anything potentially going wrong while you're residing on the premises." His eyebrows shot up in surprise, "You really are worried." "Can you blame me?" "Absolutely not." "I will need it in writing, by the way…" John groaned, "Sabrina." "Kidding." "I promise.", his face drew closer to hers until their lips were almost touching, "As long as you promise you'd come to my rescue again if needed. Civilian status and all that." Before she had the chance to respond, his mouth descended on hers while he pulled her into him by the belt loop of her pants. Her hands locked around his neck, slipping into his hair and setting on undoing all the efforts and time he had put into styling it as their lips fought to prevail over the other. John kept his fingers from working on taking off her clothes the way "that wicked side" of him beckoned them to do. Patience. Or you'd actually sleep on the floor or worse, she'd change her mind completely. He doubted the usual methods would work, reminding himself he wasn't threading in familiar waters, that she didn't exactly fit in the category of women he usually dated. This time around, it was him who broke the kiss, stroking her cheek while he backed away a little, enough to gaze into her eyes. Self-control. You have it somewhere within yourself, Duncan. "How can I refuse to help after that?", Sabrina said with another smile, skin flushed where his beard had rubbed against it. "I'm torn if perhaps I should wish for trouble now." "Hilarious.", she smoothed a hand down his suit jacket, "Come then." She aimed for another doorway across the kitchen just as he returned to the table and pulled a pen out of his coat's inner pocket, scribbling away at his unused napkin from dinner. "John?", she noticed he wasn't following and moved behind him in attempt to take a peek over his shoulder. "Almost done." "What are you-" He slid the napkin and pen over to her with a smirk, "All you need to do is sign on the dotted line and the contract would be in place." Her eyes scanned his make-shift agreement before she let out a laugh, "I truly was joking."

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