Title: No Sale
Rating: PG-13 (sexual innuendo)
Pairing: Elle/Claire, pre-ship
Prompt: "milk" at 7snogs
Disclaimer: These characters are not mine. Clearly.
Timeline: Takes place in my Something Blue universe, which is basically an AU, slightly cracky take on everything from S2 on.
Teaser: Claire is forced to take Elle shopping with her. Melon sexual techniques happens. Shameless comedic fluff.

"Why do I have to push the cart?"

"Because you need to earn your keep, and I had to bring you in anyway. Besides, Mom would kill me if I left you out in the car in this heat." Claire glanced over the rack of chips, and then sighed and stood on her toes to reach for a bag on the top shelf; Elle took the moment to study Claire's rack before the younger woman dropped the chips into the cart and set off again. "You know, with all the time I spend saving the world, you'd think I'd able to skimp the stupid chores."

"It can't be this hard. You just have to follow the list." And keep bending down to get things on the bottom row wearing those cut-offs, a voice added in the back of Elle's head. Or maybe it was on her shoulder.

"I'm sorry, have you met my mother?" The list was waved at Elle's face, Claire's high ponytail bobbing in her ire. "Half of this stuff I can't find, and the other half we don't even need."

When Elle only blinked, Claire snorted and grabbed the end of the cart, pulling it behind her into the pasta aisle. Boxes and jars of noodles and sauce stretched off into infinity along with little containers of herbs in a small area separated from everything else. The college cheerleader wandered with the list held up to her face, scowling at labels as she apparently found that none matched what she was looking for.

Elle wandered behind her, eyes focused lower than they needed to be.

"It's there," she offered after a few minutes, pointing one finger when Claire glanced back in confusion. There was a dramatic sigh, and then Claire bent for a jar of white sauce just above the floor.

You're being very helpful, the voice on her shoulder preened quietly and Elle nodded in agreement.

"I don't know," she said the fifth time she was ordered to sniff a cantaloupe.

Don't say that, she's flirting, shoulder-voice insisted. Touch it right and she'll tell you to touch something else. Elle glanced at Claire under her eyelashes warily, shifted the fruit from one hand to the other and then back again. It was taken from her, another put in its place. See? She's testing your technique.

"How's that one?"

"Uh." Elle took a cautious sniff, squirmed nervously. "Still stinky."

Claire made a humming noise and passed another one over, sniffing one of her own.

You're a bad lesbian, the voice on her shoulder informed her in a disgusted tone.

"Shut up." Claire's head snapped around. "Not you." Blonde eyebrows snapped up. "Never mind."

There was a very slight chuckle from her shoulder, unmistakably smug, and Elle bristled, marching forward to start grabbing and sniffing one melon after another. On her fifth, she got close and on her seventh, she found what Claire was looking for, no odor that she could pick up. "Here," she started and then stopped.

Suddenly struck with a new idea, she didn't let go when Claire reached to take it, resulting in a short glare from the other petite blonde. When Claire got a firmer grip on it and tried to yank, Elle held her eyes and tightened her own grip, reaching to start circling the melon around the stem in a firm stroking movement.

Claire stopped trying to yank and just kind of stared down at the melon being molested.

This'll work, the voice said quietly, excitedly, look at her, she's getting so—

"That's my Mom's," Claire blurted in a queasy voice and Elle nearly threw the melon down.

"I wasn't…" she tried to start, horrified without being able to explain why, but then Claire snatched it and dropped into the cart and skirted around her to the wall of produce under the misters. "Crap," she said, and grabbed the cart to quickly follow. "I was just making sure it was ripe." Claire ignored her, completely focused on her study of tomatoes. "That's all, I wasn't doing anything to the melon, okay?"

"Uh huh," was all Claire said, now bent nearly double in her refusal to meet Elle's eyes.

"It's not my fault you make everything dirty," she continued before she could stop herself.

A snort was Claire's only response, and the voice on her shoulder was suspiciously silent.

"Useless asshole." Claire snapped upwards, ponytail flipping around as the muscles in her arm flexed, as her fingers twitched dangerously around the tomato in her grip. "Not you." A muscle in Claire's jaw twitched, a flush spreading up her chest above the scoop neck of her summer tank top. "Never mind."

It wasn't working.

Now Claire's chest was heaving, her eyes narrowed.

Elle knew that look, had learned what it meant when Claire started heaving her chest.

If they got off lucky by trying to be adults about the situation, there were only death threats and shoving matches; when they were both on the rag (and damn the universe for having their cycles match) and they were unable to be adults about the situation, there was hair-pulling and food-throwing.

And Claire already had the food at hand.

Shoulder-voice gave no advice.

"Um, I wasn't talking to—" She blanched under the green-eyed glare. "I'm sorry."

The tomato was shifted from one hand to the other and Elle swallowed, stood stiff and waited for the hard stare to soften and for Claire to lose interest in tackling her to the ground and start smearing her with—

Elle swallowed again, for an entirely different reason.

Worked desperately not to let her eyes drop down to the heaving chest in front of her.

Now wasn't the time to get horny over Claire, not now when she was about to get tomatoed—

It's always time to get horny over Claire, shoulder-voice interrupted. Always.

And shoulder-voice gave Elle a crystal clear image of Claire dropping the tomato to the floor as her arm came up, as her hair lifted off her neck in a sudden breeze. She would step forward, her breasts lifting, her eyes closing, and then she'd kiss Elle the way she was supposed to want to. And when Elle returned the kiss, pulled her close and then bent her back over the produce, Claire would moan for Elle to take her right there.

Right here, she'd moan when Elle had pulled away, right on the produce, right here, right now, oh, God, Elle, take me now—

"Now, Elle," Claire snapped, and shoved a tomato at her.


There was a grunt of disdain, a roll of green eyes, and then Claire snatched the cart away and headed for the frozen aisle. Elle was left standing wide-eyed, mind fogged over with lust, the tomato dangerously close to being squished into ketchup in her white-knuckled hand as she tried to calm down.

She heard a sound, a hissing noise, and then the sprayers started beside her, heavy mist engulfing her.

"You're going to get a cold like that." Standing in front of the open glass door, bag of frozen peas held to her neck, Elle glared into the freezer balefully, trying not to pay any attention to the young woman trying to pick between two different bags of icy fries. "Straight or curly?"

Elle had to force her words out through her teeth. "Check the list."

"It just says frozen fries," Claire moaned, and Elle nearly blew up the peas.

"Buy both," the older woman snapped, dropping now-mushy peas onto the shelf and placing a new bag of green beans in the same place. "I just want to get home this year, please."

"I don't want to get the wrong ones…" and then she dropped a bag of both into the cart. Claire spent a minute looking through the tower of groceries in the cart, and then looked at Elle for a second. And then she did an actual double take, eyebrows lifting as she stared at the bag of green beans. "What are you doing?"

Elle tried to think up an excuse and failed, swung her mental eye to her shoulder for help.

No idea, the voice said uselessly. "I like green beans."

"You just keep getting weirder."

In response, Elle stared at her with what she hoped was a bland and innocent expression.

To judge by the suddenly panicked way Claire rapidly blinked and swallowed, it didn't quite work.

Blanching, Elle turned her gaze back to the open freezer in front of her, trying to come up with a few words to disarm the nervous stance that Claire had taken. "I've got an ice kink," she started in a moment of clarity, prepared to sacrifice what was left of her pride to keep the other woman's trust. But then Claire stepped up next to her, started looking through the bags of vegetables and Elle's mouth snapped shut.

"Do you know where the cauliflower is?"

"No idea," and Elle stared at a strand of hair that had escaped from Claire's ponytail, had fallen across her cheek at some point and now stirred slightly as the younger woman breathed slowly.

"Thanks," Claire deadpanned, and started looking by herself.

Elle kept staring, eye glued to Claire's neck arched as she reached up and then deeper into the freezer, the way the muscles in her arms moved under her skin as her fingers searched. Trying to tear her eyes away, she looked down and instantly regretted it when she saw Claire's nipples hardening through the thin fabric of her skimpy tank top, heard her moan in disappointment as she stepped back. "I can't reach them."

Oh, god, Elle was going to die.

Green beans tumbling out of her grasp, the older woman staggered over and climbed up onto the frame of the freezer, grabbed two bags of cauliflower and shoved them into the Claire's arms. This done, she set off as fast as her tottering legs could carry her, not caring when a cardboard display of freezer bags she bumped into went crashing to the floor.

She needed a fucking candy bar.

"I want it."

"You don't need it."

"I need it," Elle stated flatly, and slammed the candy bar down on the conveyor belt.

Claire's mouth tightened and she glared but then she went back to digging her credit card out of her wallet, waiting until the acne-faced kid swiped the candy before she swiped the card. Unable to muffle her snarl when she noticed the boy reaching to drop the candy into a bag, Elle snatched it out of his hand and ripped it open, shoving it into her mouth without a second's hesitation.

Acne-boy was leering at the way her mouth worked around the chocolate, something she would have gladly put up with if Claire were leering, too. But no, Claire only made a disgusted face and paid for the groceries. Favoring the brat with the nastiest glare she could work up, Elle trailed after Claire and the tower of bags in the cart as she left the store and set off for her car.

Elle sucked the last inch of candy bar into her mouth and struggled to help Claire load them into the back, heard a quick "thanks" as Claire shut the door and went around to the front.

Intent on seeing the glass as half-full, Elle decided that it said something for their growing relationship that Claire didn't take the few minutes she had while Elle was pushing the cart across the half-empty parking lot to escape. No, instead of bolting, she watched Elle childishly make a run for it and then release the cart with a last heave that nearly sent her head over heels. It sailed a good distance, and she couldn't help a cackle when it crashed against a disgustingly expensive little corvette. Elle was actually still chuckling to herself when she got into the car, buckled herself in and then paused, noticing that Claire was frowning and squinting at the windshield. "What?"

"Um," Claire said, and gnawed her lip a little.

Gnaw it for her—

Elle slapped a mental gag over the stupid little voice, wanting to get home.

"Wait," Claire blurted just as she slid the key into the ignition, "wait, we forgot the milk—"

Elle shuddered, clamping a hand around Claire's and twisting the key by force, prepared to knock her out and throw her in the back if she had to. "Frankly, Pom-pom, I don't give a damn."