|Blame it on the Alcohol
Author: fembuck PM
Nurse Jackie For reasons unknown to her, Eleanor invites Zoey out again and the night ends in a way neither of them could have anticipated. Eleanor/Zoey, femslashRated: Fiction M - English - Romance/Humor - Words: 2,018 - Reviews: 5 - Favs: 2 - Published: 09-06-09 - Status: Complete - id: 5356256
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Title: Blame it on the Alcohol
Fandom: Nurse Jackie
Pairing: Eleanor O'Hara/Zoey Barkow
Disclaimer: I don't own them, I'm just borrowing them.
Summary: For reasons unknown to her, Eleanor invites Zoey out again and the night ends in a way neither of them could have anticipated.
This is it, Eleanor thought as she lifted the champagne flue to her lips and drank deeply. This is absolutely the last time I drink … ever, she told herself firmly as she leaned to the side to deposit her glass on the table beside her couch. It gets me into far too much trouble, her mind continued to ramble, pointedly ignoring the fact that she had not been drunk when she had invited Zoey to join her for a late dinner after they had bumped into each other in the elevator at the end of their shifts.
"Darling, if you're going to do it," Eleanor drawled, "then do it. I've hard far too much to drink, so if you want me conscious for this auspicious occasion, you had better get started."
"Oh, yeah," Zoey said apologetically, scrunching her face up in an 'uh oh' expression before she quickly began to pull Eleanor's skirt and panties down her legs. "Sorry, I thought that maybe you wanted me to go slowly or something. You know I didn't just want to come over to your house and be all like 'rawr' ripping off your clothes and everything," she continued, smiling as Eleanor lifted her feet up when the skirt and panties were around her ankles so that Zoey could remove them and carefully rest them aside.
"How gentlemanly," Eleanor drawled, a small but genuine smile touching her lips as she looked down the length of body, to catch the eyes of the woman-child resting on her knees between her legs. "You may rest assured that I won't take offense if you don't dawdle. Please, pounce away … the room's beginning to spin more, we might not have much longer."
Zoey's scrunched her face up again, her eyes narrowing as she gazed up at Eleanor suspiciously. "Are you serious Dr. O'Hara? Because if you're that drunk, I don't think that we should be doing this. I don't want to take advantage of you, and if you regret it in the morning things could get uncomfortable between us, and you'd probably tell Jackie, and she definitely wouldn't respect me if she thought I date raped her best friend."
Eleanor struggled to lift her head from where it had fallen against the back of the couch, and straightened up slightly so that she could see Zoey's face better. The girl's eyes were wide, and shinning as she gazed up at Eleanor waiting for a response, and the older woman felt a surprising pang of affection for the young woman who was on her knees in front of her so willing to please her.
"I'm just kidding, Angela," Eleanor said, trying to make her naturally sarcastic drawl a little less sarcastic as she spoke to Zoey.
Zoey's eyebrows came together a bit at that, but Eleanor suspected that Zoey knew she was calling her Angela on purpose by now, and that the girl let her do it because she knew Eleanor got a perverse kick out of it.
It was one of those strange things about Zoey that made her so oddly intriguing to Eleanor.
"You know the only three things I can do are diagnosis, make sarcastic comments and shop."
Eleanor extended her hand, tracing Zoey's cheek lightly and then cupped the young blonde's face in her hand.
"You could never take advantage of me," Eleanor continued, her lips curving up slightly in a smile. "I won't regret it in the morning, and there's no way on Earth I plan on telling Jackie, so the sad little battle of wits between the two of you will carry on unaided by me."
"Are you sure?" Zoey asked, keeping a keen eye on her.
"Utterly," Eleanor responded, holding the nurse's baby blue eyes. "Can we carry on, then?" she asked a few seconds later, lifting an imperious eyebrow as she gazed down at Zoey.
"Yes of course," Zoey said, bringing her hands to Eleanor's thighs, rubbing them as she slowly parted the older woman's legs. "Thank you, Doctor," she continued, boldly holding Eleanor's eyes as she lightly caressed the inside of the doctor's legs with her thumbs, drawing a little shiver from the older woman.
"Ooh," Eleanor drawled, not missing the delightfully mischievous look in Zoey's eyes. "Feisty. I'm pleased," Eleanor continued smiling, relaxing into the cushions of the couch as Zoey's fingers slowly moved closer to the place she suddenly found she was quite desperate for the young woman to touch.
"You haven't seen anything yet," Zoey promised, her eyes flashing once more, the potential in her expression actually taking Eleanor's breath away for a moment. Then the young blonde's hands finally touched where Eleanor was aching for her, slightly calloused yet delicate thumbs parting Eleanor wide as Zoey leaned forward and stroked the older woman with her tongue.
Eleanor stared up at the dark expanse she knew was her bedroom ceiling with a happy yet slightly bewildered look on her face. Sweat was cooling on her skin, her head was spinning deliciously, her heart pounded erratically in her chest, and her muscles felt loose and relaxed in the way that only a really great work-out or really great sex could provide.
Who knew Angela had that in her? The doctor thought, a pleased smile touching her lips as she thought back on the last hour and a half. She was suddenly very curious about Zoey's past, because living with her mother or not, the girl clearly wasn't as innocent or sheltered as she seemed.
"Dr. O'Hara?" Zoey whispered, lifting her head from where it had been resting against Eleanor's bare shoulder.
"Darling, at this point I think you can call Elle," Eleanor responded laughing lightly. "I think you'd better actually. People make enough jokes about the arrogance of doctors without their lovers referring to them by title."
"Lover?" Zoey questioned, almost giddily, a large smile slowly spreading across her lips as Eleanor gazed up at her. "So we're going to do this again?"
"I should think so," Eleanor drawled sounding vaguely mystified that she should want to repeat this insanity again.
Her eyes held on Zoey's face for a few seconds, and then her gaze began wander. Her eyes took in the surprisingly delicate slope of Zoey's neck, and then ran over her stethoscope-less shoulders before taking in her generous, pink tipped breasts. Eleanor's eyes then slipped lower, traveling over Zoey's slightly rounded tummy, her lips twitching slightly when she remembered the way Zoey had laughed and flailed about when she had flicked her tongue inside her belly-button earlier while kissing her way between Zoey's legs.
Eleanor tried to look lower, her eyes searching for neatly trimmed patch of blonde hair between Zoey's legs, but they were impeded by the white sheet draped over Zoey's lap, and Eleanor looked back up to meet Zoey's eyes, finding her desire for a repeat performance or even multiple repeat performances a little less insane after her visual inspection and trip through memory lane.
"Most definitely," the Brit continued, her gaze taking on a slightly thoughtful look as she paused. "That is as long as you don't find me terribly boring."
"I could never find you boring, Dr. O'Hara," Zoey said with an earnestness that made Eleanor want to squeeze her in her arms until the pressure became too much and Zoey's head popped off.
"Elle, please," the older woman said gently, reaching out to stroke Zoey's cheek once more.
God help her, she was actually, genuinely, honestly fond of the girl. When Jackie found out about this (and Eleanor was sure that Jackie would find out about it – probably because in a moment of madness she blurted it out), she was going to have a field day with it.
Jackie would have material for days, weeks, months, maybe even for years.
It'd be tough at first, Eleanor had been the one with all the ammunition for years, but Zoey was very, very, unexpectedly amazing in bed and Eleanor wasn't going to give up good sex to avoid a little teasing.
"Honestly, I shan't be able to look at myself in the mirror come morning if you keep calling me that while naked in my bed," Eleanor continued, smiling softly as Zoey smiled at her.
"Okay," Zoey breathed out, lowering her head onto the pillow beside Eleanor's. "Elle," she added sheepishly, smiling at Eleanor as she used her name for the first time since they had met.
Eleanor closed her eyes, feeling a delightful lightness in her body that she had been without for far, far, too long.
"Elle?" Zoey asked softly, hesitantly as if she was afraid that Eleanor might have fallen to sleep in the three seconds since she had closed her eyes.
"Can I kiss you goodnight?" Zoey inquired shyly, lifting her head and propping herself up on her arm.
Eleanor cracked one eye open and then the other. She started up at Zoey silently for a moment, trying to determine whether she had really been asked the question or whether she had fallen asleep and dreamed it. However, when Zoey blinked at her expectantly she realized that it was real life, and inclined her head, murmuring "of course," a moment later.
Zoey leaned down and kissed her slowly, and sweetly in a way that Eleanor hadn't been kissed in a very long time. It was too dark in the bedroom to really make out Zoey's features with their lips pressed together, but Eleanor imagined that her eyes were closed, and that her face held a look of extreme concentration as she tried to show Eleanor just how cool she thought she was with through the power of her kiss.
"Goodnight … Elle," Zoey said long moments later, still sounding terribly excited to be using Eleanor's first name.
"Goodnight, Zoey," Eleanor responded.
Suddenly Zoey gasped, her hand clutching at Eleanor's under the sheet.
"You know my name! I knew you knew my name!" Zoey exclaimed happily, looking down at Eleanor and shaking her head slightly. "You're such a joker," she declared fondly.
"I know, I'm terrible," Eleanor murmured. She quite liked that about herself really.
Zoey murmured goodnight once more, and then lowered her head, shifting on the bed until she was comfortable. Eleanor lay awake, staring up in the darkness of the room, listening to Zoey breath. She told herself that she was just waiting until the girl fell asleep to close her eyes because she didn't want to be jostled awake, but a part of her knew that she just wanted to enjoy the feel of another body pressed against her for a while.
Finally, as Zoey's chest rose and fell slowly and deeply in the regular rhythms of sleep, Eleanor's eyes squeezed shut as she was overtaken by a yawn.
It was time for her to go to sleep as well.
As she shifted into a slightly more comfortable position, Eleanor allowed herself a moment to think about how her evening had gone and to be staggered once more by it. Then, after a few moments of stunned thought, she closed her eyes.
It was late, she was tired, and sleep came up on her quickly. But, before she finally drifted off, Eleanor had once last thought that despite how crazy it seemed, sleeping with Zoey might have been the least questionable decision she had ever made while drunk.