A/N: OK, so this is not my fault. Just saying. The problem was I was watching "Magic Majestic" and was discussing what Gerry may or may not have done to Sandra while under hypnosis, and here's the result :)
Sandra fought back a snigger as the magician did his work on Gerry, and a glazed look crossed his face. He looked even more gormless than usual, which was an achievement in itself. And then the song played, and she knew it'd really happened, and she started to grin, waiting for what would happen.
She didn't believe in magic; what she did believe in, however, was the power of the human mind, especially when it was messed with. And she was openly grinning at the result of this little experiment; he looked almost like he was sleepwalking.
But as Gerry moved towards her, her smile quickly faded. Oh no. Oh no, no, no, no. This was not happening. But there was also no stopping him now that he'd been hypnotised. She backed away slowly. "Gerry," she warned, acutely aware of how husky her voice had become. "Gerry, don't you even bloody think of it!" she exclaimed as he closed the gap between them.
It was pointless warning him, though, since he was completely and utterly out of it. But on the off chance he could hear her - "GERRY! Bloody well wake up already!"
But it was too late; his hands were on her wrists, and to her utmost surprise, she felt herself, for the second time in as many years, being spun under his arm as he attempted to dance with her to his favourite song.
What the hell was he playing at? The next thing she knew, her body was pressed against his and his vacant eyes were gazing at hers. And for some reason, she herself was momentarily transfixed. She just couldn't break the bond their eyes had formed. And as he moved in, she just wondered...what harm could it do?
His hands slipped onto her waist and right down, taking her by her belt and pushing her backwards.
But when their lips met, it was more forceful than she'd expected. His lips crushed hers, and it was forcing her to react, one way or the other. And she did what she was sure nobody would notice with Gerry there, doing the unimaginable. She returned the kiss violently, and she was terrified when a low moan escaped from her. Did she actually feel that shot of heat as he pulled her belt so tightly that she felt the buckle struggle under the strain?
And then she remembered...Brian and Jack and that tosser that caused this were still watching. So tried to force him back, but he was stronger than her. She forced herself to pull her lips from his, and shout in his face, "GERRY!" She forced them away from the wall instead, where she could escape another way. But he still was gripping her by her belt, and he had a firm hold on her. Her nails dug into his back, trying to cause him enough pain to get away from her, but it didn't work.
She pushed herself backwards, away from Gerry. And then she heard it. The sound that proved the grip he'd had on her – the buckle of her belt had burst. She fell backward, straight onto the stage floor. She groaned, torn between the pain in her back and the sound of Brian and Jack's laughter. When she sat up, she immediately glared at Brian and Jack. "Shut it," she snarled.
The magician was kneeling next to Gerry, who had also fallen to the wooden floor, and was taking him out of his trance. He regained his consciousness quickly, and was soon standing up, rubbing the base of his back. The second he realised Sandra was on the floor, he rushed over and offered to help her up. "I'm perfectly capable of getting up myself, Gerry," she snapped.
He raised his hands in surrender, blissfully unaware of what he'd just done to her. She could still hear Brian and Jack tittering away at her ordeal. Except, in a way, it wasn't really an ordeal, was it? But she had to make sure they believed she was annoyed by what happened, so they never discovered her little secret.
"Yeah, yeah, hilarious," she sniped at them. "Just bloody hilarious," she sighed, pulling what was left of her belt off before Gerry saw the damage he'd done. "Put that in a bin, will you, Jack?" she requested, straightening her top and fixing her roughed up hair.
"Sandra," Jack said. "Come with me to find a bin. Place is like a damn maze," he gave a cover for pulling her aside. She obeyed while Brian went to see to Gerry's sore back. "I don't think you should tell him what he's done, and I certainly don't think you should let on that you kissed him back," he explained. Sandra felt a look of horror spread across her face. "Oh, yes, I clocked that," he smiled.
"If you tell him about that, I will kill you," she underlined her intentions. They found a bin and chucked the remnants of her burst belt in it. She'd been taken aback by the force he had used on her, but in a weird way, she had kind of enjoyed it. It gave her a rush like she hadn't felt in years.
When they converged in the pub, she couldn't help sniping at Gerry, just to make sure he and Brian believed she was upset about what happened. And she really was a little annoyed that she'd been forced into that situation, but she also had enjoyed the opportunity try something she had wanted to for about four and a half years. And even better – Gerry didn't have a clue.
She went home with an insane feeling of satisfaction. She had to confess to herself that if that opportunity were to arise again, minus the hypnosis on Gerry's part, she would seize it with both hands.
At about ten, she got changed into a vest top and pyjama bottoms, throwing on a thin dressing gown to cover her shoulders. She lay on the sofa with her book, but she kept getting distracted by what had happened. It had been an accident, a mishap, yes...but her reaction wasn't an accident. She had been completely in control of herself, which was more than could be said for Gerry. And she had to feel some sympathy for the man; she'd been rather nasty in the pub, and she'd agreed with Jack and sworn Brian to secrecy. In other words, unless she told him, he would never find out what happened.
The doorbell rang, and she groaned as she got up to answer it. Her back was still aching from her fall, and her belt had cut into her waist due to the force Gerry used to pull her by it. And speak of the devil, when she opened the door, there stood Gerry. And this time he was completely alert. "Right, I wanna know what the hell I did to you when I got put under," he demanded, before she could even greet him.
"You actually don't remember anything, do you?" she quizzed him, realising there was no way he could feign this level of stupidity. She felt a little hurt that he couldn't recall passionately kissing her with such force he broke her belt, but deep down she knew he hadn't been aware of what he was doing.
And she realised that this needed discussed. He wasn't going to let go of this so easily. Not as easily as she'd hoped. She couldn't have him thinking over this, trying to work out how he could have offended her; it just wasn't fair on him. It wasn't his fault, after all. "Come in," she invited him.
When they were in her hallway, with her door safely closed, they stood facing each other, so close they were almost touching. "What did I do to you? It's obviously something to do with you. You've been narky with me ever since," he explained his line of thinking.
"I can't really describe it," she admitted as she searched for the words to explain exactly what he'd done to her. "The best I can do is show you," she suggested. And she didn't care where this path could lead her. If she ended up sleeping with him, then so be it.
"Alright," he sighed warily. "Get me to do it again."
"Take me by the wrists," she ordered him. He gave her a funny look, and gently took her wrists. "No, tighter than that. You took me so hard you could've bruised me," she told him, so he tightened his grip on her.
She looked up, just a little shorter than him with bare feet, and felt that shot of heat travel through again. "Spin me like we're dancing," she said. He pulled her under his arm until she was facing him again. "Right," she exhaled, building herself up for the next stage of what happened. The part she'd enjoyed. "Take me by the waistband of my trousers."
"What?!" he demanded disbelievingly. She rolled her eyes, a smile playing on her soft lips. "Just do it," she groaned. "You grabbed me by my belt. Just do it," she repeated. So he was exceedingly gentle when he took her by the trousers. "Harder than that," she said, and he increased his pull on her until there was no space between them, their bodies pressed together. "Slam me back into the wall."
He wasn't careful this time, because she'd made it quite plain how rough he had been with her. She felt again her back hitting the wall, his body pressed into hers, his hands on her waistband, restraining her. And she was actually comfortable with that. Because it was Gerry.
"Now what?" he demanded.
And to her amazement, he obeyed, crushing his lips into hers. And she responded whole-heartedly this time, not having to worry about what Jack and Brian picked up on. She let herself go, letting him have all of her.
This was so incredibly messed up, but so perfect at the same time. There was something comforting in knowing she knew what to do now. Because she'd come so close already today. So when he turned them so the stairs were behind her, she smiled into his mouth. "Go on," she urged him.
So he pushed her, taking them up the stairs; they somehow scrambled to the top without any injuries, refusing to let one another go.
She remembered the first time he had kissed her. Just on the cheek, being nervy while undercover. The second time, again on the cheek, was when she had listened to him about Emily's DNA results and held her tongue. The third time, he didn't even know what he was doing. But this time he did know. And it was rough and flawed and passionate and almost violent, and yet it felt so perfect to her.
They landed on her bed as one somehow – she couldn't quite recall how they'd got there safely – but what she did know was this: this was the true definition of the word magic.
Hope this is OK!
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