Eddie Arlette was not a stupid man.

Well, ah, okay so that really depended on your specific interaction with him.

Fiona Bickerton had a very descriptive and colorful opinion of Detective Eddie Arlette, with whom she very reluctantly shared a flat, and his level of stupidity. That's not to say they didn't have their occasional moments of friendship, reluctant though it usually is. They can have their moments. Two o'clock in the morning with the whole of Scotland Yard invading her personal space was not one of those moments. Given, he had his reasons, which he wasn't likely to divulge any time soon, for fear of scaring her away but still, it didn't top the list of friendly moments with him.

She's cooking two dinners- a vegetarian one for herself and a decidedly more omnivorous one for Eddie, who had run for the shower, desperate to get the smell of that German opera singer off of him as soon as possible. She doesn't know why she's cooking for him when he was perfectly capable of cooking for himself and the smell of meat cooking gags her.

"Now see, that is the smell of real food!" Eddie comments on the smell of his steak cooking as he walks into the kitchen, drying his hair with a towel. "Not that vegetarian crap you eat!"

She drops the wooden spoon on the counter and turns to him, ready to spit a sharp retort at him when her breath catches in her throat and she can feel her heart beat just a bit faster. He's shirtless. It isn't as if she hasn't seen a man shirtless before, she's seen plenty but not this man. Not the man she reluctantly shared her home with.

"Like what you see?" Eddie teases with a cocky grin that makes her want to fling that wooden spoon at his head and then maybe kiss him senseless.

She scoffs and turns back to their food, not willing to give him the satisfaction of, what would be, a decidedly fan-girlish response to his cocky question. Yes, she most definitely liked what she saw, in fact she was pretty sure that none of the other man she had seen without a shirt could top the delicious view of him. It's really hard to hate him when he's not wearing much more than a pair of jeans.

Jeans that are just tight enough to accentuate his, ahem, endowments.

Yes, she was most definitely screwed.

"Your slop is almost ready," She tells him tightly, flipping his steak once more, focusing on the task of cooking dinner rather than the man standing in her kitchen with wet hair and a body, that some delicious fantasies had turned into her dessert for the night.

Eddie just nods and looks over at the small blonde cooking his dinner. Her tank top is riding up her stomach, revealing the soft curve of her hips. His eyes follow the waistband of her sweatpants along the small of her back, following the black cotton into the soft curve of her lower back. Her blonde hair is up in a messy ponytail and she's more focused on dinner than she is on him, which is fine, because he wants to admire the sight before him anyway.

He may hate the blonde Brit but there is no denying she's all woman. One hundred percent, gorgeous, sexy woman.

A woman that had been the focus of his late night fantasies. Fantasies that usually ended with him taking a cold shower and trying to shake it off. She may have been the one person he hated more than anyone else but that didn't mean he didn't admire her for what she was.

He thinks he just might be screwed.

"Here," She clenches her teeth as she sets his plate in front of him along with a fork and a knife.

He's driving her crazy.

He was pretty good at that anyway but this is different.

Usually it's the way he says things or the way he can use his words to trick her into something she didn't want to do and no, the check for Pete's acting services was nowhere near the reimbursement she was hoping for. Then again, that particular reimbursement might be asking a little much of the man. After all, they were supposed to hate each other.

"Something wrong, Fiona?" He asks her, his voice soft, laced with what sounds like a genuine concern.

"Just tired." She tells him, biting into the soft asparagus.

He watches her set the asparagus down and push her food around her plate. He looks down at the thick, tender, mouth-watering steak on his plate and can't find it in him to eat it, knowing she wasn't eating. He watches her for a few minutes, trying to read her, figure out what's wrong.

"Okay, what's wrong?" He asks, finally fed up with trying to read the woman.

"Why must you go shirtless?" She snaps frustratedly, meeting his clear blue eyes.

"Why? Got you a little worked up?" His cocky grin is back in all of it's glory.

"Eddie, you're sitting over there half-naked and you expect me not to get worked up?" Fiona snaps, clearly irritated with his current state of undress or maybe it's the whole 'idiocy is bliss' front he's putting up.

He stands up from his chair, giving her a clear view of what he's endowed with below his waist and the shapely rear that she follows with her eyes as he walks to the sink with his plate. She can see every muscle in his back rippling as he moves. He turns, staring at her with lust-darkened eyes, clearly wanting her just as much as she wants him but he refuses to give in. He won't make the first move unless she does and he was pretty sure that would never happen. She stands up to face him, crossing her arms over her chest as she stares up at him through hazel eyes.

Neither are quite sure how it happens but before either one of them can say a word, he's grabbed her and turned them, pinning her to the counter. He's kissing her with everything he has in him, growling and groaning as she teases him with her tongue. His hands are pushing her tank top up her stomach, needing the softness of her flesh under his hands. His warm, rough hands that feel so good on her skin. It doesn't matter that there's an age difference between them. They just need more of each other.

They wonder how they managed to go from Fiona snapping at him about why he felt the need to go shirtless and how he expected her not to get so worked up over it, to him pinning her to the counter and them kissing each other senseless.

Maybe it's the hate turning into lust. Or maybe it's the sexual tension that's always sizzled beneath the surface of their hatred. That's always created more attraction for each other than either are willing to admit.

Something that can't go any farther than a steamy kiss, they tell themselves.

Something that can't turn into anything serious because she has Nigel.

"Crap!" Eddie exclaims pulling away suddenly. He pushes himself away from her-far, far away from her and exclaims, "Fiona, what about Nigel?"

Buzz-kill.

"Nigel," Fiona sighs, desperately wishing that Nigel wasn't her boyfriend. "Nigel."

She knows that if Nigel were to ever find out about that holy towering inferno of a kiss with Eddie, then any chance she had of a future with him would be gone and she's not sure she can let Nigel go. Even though she wants both him and Eddie. It's one or the other, she can't have both. As her hazel eyes lock with Eddie's clear blue ones, they both know the truth. She can't just throw away her entire future for a man that she shares a flat with. As hot and wonderful as that kiss was, they know that it can't happen again.

Never again.

No matter how sexy he looked shirtless.


To niagaraweasel, dear, I hope you thoroughly enjoyed reading this! I'm not sure if this is exactly what you wanted but I know you told me that your favorite episode was 'Achtung, Baby!' so I wanted to base it off of that and the tension that seemed to be between them. I was halfway through the kiss scene when I remembered that Fiona was still with Nigel in that episode so there's the reason for the ending. Anyway, my first dip into the Keen Eddie fandom :) Leave some love dolls!

Peace,

RobertDowneyJrLove