A/N: Not really sure about this one, but I was bogged down and needed something fun and goofy to write, and this was it. I can't really claim Jordan, Woody or Lily are terribly in character in this one, but hopefully the ride will be fun enough to make up for it. And if anyone wants to ask the inevitable question, the answer is "Yes." Grin.
Timeline is sometime after Season 6 starts.
There's the Rub!
Jordan leaned into Lily and hissed, "I can't believe I let you talk me into this!"
Lily grinned. "Shh. Put out your hand. She's bringing around the Hot Apple Pie flavor now."
The M.E. rolled her eyes, but obediently stuck out her hand, palm down. The dark haired woman doing this "demonstration" to which Lily had dragged her came around, smiling, talking and dripping gel onto a multitude of hands just like Jordan's. "Now, remember," she said, her voice party-bright and rapid-fire. "Rub, blow, lick."
Ten heads dipped down as ten women not only rubbed the sticky substance into their skin, but sniffed it. Several "oohs" and "ahhs" and even a "whoa!" or two sounded. The sound of air being huffed from ten mouths followed and then more exclamations, this time of "Hmmm… I like that one!" or "The other one was better" followed.
"I don't know." Lily's brow furrowed. "I think the Hot Buttered Rum was better."
Experimentally, Jordan ran her tongue over the latest goop applied to her hand. "Hmm… I still like the cinnamon best."
"Of course, I have to think of Bug, too," the grief counselor said. She sighed. "He'd probably like-"
"Lil? I really don't want to know, okay?" Jordan was grimacing. "I'm happy for you and everything, but … I just don't want to know."
Her friend giggled. "Jealous?"
That earned Lily an arched eyebrow and then a laugh. "Bug's not my type."
The lighter haired woman lightly punched Jordan's upper arm. "You know what I mean."
"You're right, I do. And my lips are sealed."
"Fine. Be that way." Lily feigned a snit quite well, but lost it when the demonstrator pulled out yet another tube of goo. "Oh, my!" Her hands flew to cover her mouth and she blushed crimson.
Jordan grinned at her, relatively certain that anyone who knew the two of them would have assumed it would have been Jordan who would have coerced Lily into attending an "adult toy" party, not the other way around.
"I wonder if he'd… never mind!" Lily shrilled.
"Thanks," Jordan replied, sotto voce, her mind already unfortunately pulsing with images she didn't want. Heidi, the consultant, was coming around again. The M.E. looked down at her hands, wondering where on earth the woman imagined she could smear Great Head (orange dream, or something like that) on Jordan's skin for purposes of sampling. She noted most of the other party goers were experiencing the same dilemma. Wryly she admitted to herself it was a rather amusing problem. I've run out of room for sex creams! Oh no!
"Wow," Lily whispered. "My skin is going to be super moisturized."
"Yeah, I noticed that, too," her friend agreed. "And I'm going to smell like some weird concoction of fruits, flowers and baked goods."
"Not to mention I really didn't need those snacks Jenn made."
That provoked another laugh from Jordan. Jenn was a friend of Lily's from a yoga class, as were several of the other attendees. Most had chatted amiably while Heidi was setting up her displays. Jordan could have autopsied the conversations though once the "show" started. Everyone had gone dead silent and more than a few of the women had alternated between blushing furiously and giggling like ten year old girls about to see that educational "You're Becoming a Woman!" film. But all had obediently tested, tasted and sniffed the various products and now most were laughing abundantly, trading innuendo and awaiting the next product with glee. Jordan admitted silently that she was having more fun than she had in a very long time. She felt a pang of guilt for that, for letting herself think of something other than the horror of Pollack's death, the trauma of her time as a fugitive and the beyond-fucked-up state of her relationship – or was that non-relationship? – with Woody. Then Heidi was talking about the differences in three of the "heightening" products and Jordan let go of the guilt, eyes round as the woman pulled out Q-tips and Jenn directed guests to the two bathrooms where they could apply this latest cream. Jordan thought her eyes would actually pop out of her head when Lily accepted a cotton swab and declared herself to be next-to-next-in-line.
Lily caught the M.E.'s expression and shrugged with a Devil-may-care grin. "You only live once, Jordan."
Nearly a week later, Lily caught up to Jordan as the M.E. walked off the elevator. "Look what I have!" Lily teased, holding a discreet, black handled bag. "Jenn brought them to me at yoga class last night."
Jordan glanced around, hopeful no one had overheard the exchange. She'd had plenty of conversations with her coworkers – Nigel and Garret came readily to mind – about sex, but she found she just didn't want to discuss with any of them the little soiree she and Lily had attended. It was bad enough that Bug knew!
"Come on, Jord. Admit it – you had fun!"
"Did I say I didn't?"
"You did, didn't you?"
Jordan looked sheepish. "Yeah. I did."
Lily's face went red. "Especially that game. In the circle. With the – the – the-"
"Giant, pink, vibrating penis?" Sometimes Jordan was without mercy.
Lily burst out laughing. That was almost funnier than when Garret had said "bunnies."
Jordan grinned over. "Yeah, Lil. It was fun. Not fun I intend to tell many people about, but fun."
"Told ya'," the other woman managed.
They stopped at Jordan's office and the M.E. pushed open the door, her back to the room.
"Oh, don't forget this!" Lily reminded her, shoving the black bag her direction. Then Lily peered over Jordan's shoulder. "Hi, Woody!" And then the grief counselor disappeared. Wisely disappeared.
Woody's eyebrows arched. He gestured to the back Jordan had attempted to slide behind her couch. "Whatcha got there?"
She blushed briefly. "Nothing," she muttered.
"Doesn't seem like nothing," he teased.
"Really, Woody. It's nothing." She made her voice as stern as she could, laying the bag on one end of the sofa, hoping that if she could regain her composure Woody would drop it.
"All right," he replied.
"Did you need something?"
"The Davis report." She reached down to unlock her desk so she could find the file and, from her peripheral vision, saw Woody dive for her couch. "And this!" Grinning triumphantly, he lofted the bag.
"Put it down, Woody."
"Why? What's in here you don't want me to-?" His blue eyes widened and a faint pink color stole over his face and down across his neck. "Jeez, Jordan! Is that what I think it is?"
His discomfiture gave her the upper hand once again. "I don't know." She regarded him steadily, fighting the smile tugging at her lips. "What do you think it is?"
He took another quick peek into the sack. "It's a – a – and there are some bottles and a jar!"
"Geez, Woods. Never seen a sex toy before?"
"I – uh – I – Yeah. Of course!"
"Any time other than the Sick Boy case?" She added, the smile more and more difficult to suppress.
"Um – Uh – Well, now that you mention it, no." As if afraid something in the bag might bite, he gingerly lifted out one of the bottles. "Sensations? In cinnamon flavor? What do you do with this?"
Allowing herself a sultry smile, her eyes smoky and heavy-lidded, she walked over to him and took the bottle and the bag from him. She looked up at him. "Well… you rub." His brows quirked up involuntarily. "Then you blow." His tongue darted out and wetted his lower lip. Jordan doubted he even knew he'd done it. She lowered her voice. "And then you lick."
"Yeah?" It came out as a hoarse crock.
She nodded slowly.
"And – um – uh – what does that do?" Woody couldn't peel his eyes off of her.
"Oh," she murmured. "It gets really, really, really hot."
"Rea- Rea- Really?"
His stutter made her chuckle.
"Um – Jo?"
"Would it – Would it be – wrong if I asked you to dinner tonight?"
She pretended to consider that. "Wrong?"
"Yeah." He could barely catch his breath, she was so achingly close.
"Because of what's in this bag?"
He shook his head.
"Not at all?" She fluttered her lashes a bit.
"Well, maybe a little," he admitted, his blush deepening slightly. Then he reached for her and tugged her against him. "I've missed you. Missed us."
"Woody-" It was almost a growl.
"I know. Things went from bad to better to about as bad as they could get. And – uh – a lot of that time, my head wasn't really on too straight."
"It is now?" Her voice trembled the tiniest bit.
She gazed up at him for a moment, his heat enveloping her, his scent washing over her, re-awakening feelings she had thought not only dead, but cremated and scattered on the winds. "All right."
He grinned hugely. "Salvatore's? Eight o'clock?"
She agreed. He released her, not really wanting to, but knowing they both had work to do and it would pass the hours in between. Her deep, warm eyes flashed at him. "Woody? How much of this is what's in this bag?" She dangled the bag in front of him.
He swallowed. "One percent." She arched a brow. "Ten percent?" She wasn't buying it. "Twenty?"
She laughed. "Pick me up at seven-thirty."
Six months later…
Woody gave a strangled moan, his eyes rolled back in his head, his jaw slack. "Jeez, Jo!" He managed at last. "You're going to kill me with that stuff."
She chuckled against him. "What a way to go though, huh?"
His only response was another low moan as she once again demonstrated those directions she'd first received six months before.
Heidi had left out one part: grin smugly at the reaction produced.
"By the way," Jordan murmured as she snaked her way back up Woody's toned body. "Don't forget I won't be home Friday night."
He expressed his disappointment and confusion in monosyllabic form – the only one of which he was then capable.
"Lily's throwing my bridal shower, remember?" Her grin was nearly evil.
"Uh-huh," he gasped. She really was going to kill him, he thought.
Jordan worked her way up, her tongue flicking out to touch the skin behind his ear. "She invited Heidi."
Damn it, he could feel her self-satisfied grin against his flesh. In a moment, he flipped her so that she was beneath him. Straddling her, trying desperately to ignore her ineffectual squirming (ineffectual for escape, that is, very effectual in other ways), his sparkling blue eyes never leaving her smoky brown ones, he reached for the bottle she'd been using. Turn about was fair play in his mind.
Hers, too, apparently, as she quit writhing beneath him. Instead, her hips bucked involuntarily as he reminded that he too knew how to rub, blow and lick. Just before he slipped inside her, he hissed in her ear, "We haven't tried the Apple Pie flavor yet."
"I'll mention it to Heidi," she groaned before his movements inside her rendered her completely incoherent. Then they were lost in each other.