"Iz, just so you know, the minute-- no, the SECOND-- we get out of here, I'm going to personally have your balls."

"Promise me that, and we'll leave now..."

I knew that Alex was going to have a few problems with this, but I didn't know he'd take the leash I gave him the end of, well-- quite so, seriously. Or with such menace. But that's Alex for you-- and I leaned over, planted a kiss on his surprised lips. I murmur, "We can go if you want, sweets, but you'll miss the games..."

"How tight can this choke collar go, Iz? Because if we're not back in the car in three minutes, I'm going to find out."

I lean in, put a hand on his straining hip-- yeah, it jumps up under me, even though he doesn't want to admit it... I stroke his waist through those oh-too-loose jeans. Smirk.

"Issat a promise, sweetie?"

He tugs on the leash, and whatever else I was going to tempt him with is taken up with my choking, and a sharp, 'fuck!' He smiles at me sweetly, leash clutched in his hand and pulled taut. "Get your incredibly sexy rear in gear, and give me the car keys."

Okay.

We're going home.

Now.

Later on, while Alex is trying cheerfully not to drive off the road, I'm feeling quite pleased with myself. Not only did I manage to surprise the freak, but now he's barely on the highway, and it's my fault, too.

I only wish we could have stayed to see Margo and Bryce and what they did with those--

Alex gasps, and swats the back of my head hard enough that I actually stop what I'm doing. "What, sweetie?"

"I can't even drive!"

Well, yeah.

"Well, yeah."

"And we'll hit something? You know?"

"So?"

He swerves into the gravel at the shoulder of the road, and undoes his seatbelt with a final little click. My mouth goes back on his bellybutton, my hands back on his waist -- and he's got a gorgeous one -- and I hear him mutter from above, "At least this won't take long..."

"My dear, love of my life, delicious treat that I'm never giving up-- What time is it?"

Alex gasps again, scrabbling against the seat as I find a particularly sensitive spot with my thumb. "Almost twelve thirty."

"Mmm." I grin at him, undoing the buttons of his jeans and wriggling a finger inside. "You ever seen the sun come up by the side of the highway? Best sight in the world."

Won't take long. Oh, Alex. How little you know me.

He moans, in reply, and I grin at how beautiful his green face looks thrown back against the driver's seat. At least Rick doesn't need his car tomorrow morning-- and that's the last thought, I'm SURE, he has before I start working on him for real.

He's so practical. Alex would never let me put my tongue all over him if Rick had work tomorrow morning-- which is a strange thought, out of context, I'll have to tell Rick tomorrow-- but there's an Alex under me now, and he's trying to get his own back, so Rick quickly fades from my head.

"I never knew that sex could--"

"Alex," I say fondly. "Shut up."

He obliges me, and I snuggle back down into his arms, the bright sunshine already turning Rick's car from a love-nest back into a rusted-out pile of useless bolts and fake leather interior. What a dump, this car is.

But it's facing east, and we can actually see the sun rising over the horizon, quiet and dead tired-- yeah, tired, I'll admit it. Tired as hell, more like it. Alex Olsen, I didn't know you had it in you to be that viscious.

Somewhere around four in the morning, Alex had caught on that the name of the game was keep it slow, and keep it up all night... and after that, I was sunk. He won't admit it, but he's fabulous, absolutely fabulous, and I didn't have a chance...

"Mmm. I think I twisted my spine last night, because of the damned steering wheel."

"Well. I'll work the kinks out for you, sweetie."

Alex rolls his eyes-- I'm sure he is, even though I'm nestled in his arms and facing forward, feeling his warm chest against my back. It's just the kind of thing he'd do.

"You just want to skip work again today."

"Of course I do. I always want to skip work when you talk dirty to me."

He looks at me in the rearview mirror, and I chuckle-- that puzzled expression is just precious. "HOW was that talking dirty to you?"

My hands move to his thighs, stroking gently. "Everything is talking dirty to me, sweetie. Especially if it involves missing work."

He laughs. "Stop it, you idiot!"

I huff, and pull away in a bit of a snit-- oh, but it's for no reason, really, I don't know why he's suddenly hit my ego with the whole 'idiot' thing.

"What's wrong, Iz?"

"Nothing. I have to get to work."

Mmm. Just drive, you freak. He moves to stroke me -- yeah, NOW you try and touch me -- and I pull away. I don't have anything to hide, I don't think. How could I live with this guy if I ever had anything to hide? But. It's the principle.

Or something. Mostly, I'm just in a snit about not getting to miss work. He sighs, starts the car engine, and I sigh, too. We can't go back into civilization on that note. I'm going to have to give him a blowjob to make it up.

"Turn off the car, babe."

He says, "Huh? I thought you were mad."

"Just-- unless you want to come while driving seventy miles an hour... though, you never drive seventy, make that fifty-five--"

"Iz."

"What?" I look at him, put his seatbelt on. "If you want me to go down on you while you're driving, you're going to need this..."

He catches my chin, and I sigh. Here we go. Sappy. Alex is a sap. And more than that, he gets me sappy, once and a while, which is fucking impossible. --And I wanted to be in a snit.

But instead, he just looks at me.

Fuck. And he's going to give me the I-care-about-you-how-can-you-shut-me-out-look, and I'm going to Get All Crabby, and then he's going to do it some more, and then I'm going to have to tell him what's wrong, and I don't know--

"Can't we just, you know, have sex and make up? Not necessarily in that order?"

"Quit quoting stupid movies, Iz, and tell me what's wrong."

What's wrong.

What's wrong?

I say, grouchy, "I don't know. I'm sorry I took you to a stupid leather party."

He grins at me, and taps my leg. "Do you remember me trying to strip you out of it? Catsuits. Don't make for easy access to gorgeous people."

I chuckle. "Not gorgeous people don't need your flattery, green-one."

He snorts, and starts the engine again. "Flattery? Hell, the zipper got stuck, and then I had to peel you out of it, and--"

I put my head in his lap, and feel him keep talking more in my gut than in my ears. I don't know what he's saying; probably something about being friends, and sap, and how we're closer, and all that bullshit.

I fall asleep on his thigh, to his low voice and the radio announcer telling us that traffic was going to be hell. Good. I'll have a reason to show up late for work. Maybe Rick won't even notice that we didn't give his car back until almost three in the afternoon... because I sure could use a nap before we both go home.