Lunatics on the Grass - RP for: asthenoseonyourface

[coatandscarf]

The past week had been the closest to a roller coaster that Randy had experienced in her civilian life. Ever since she'd step foot into Shamrock Investigations, her life had gone on a complete diversion. Mostly thanks to John Riley. Now that she'd had a proper 'debriefing' from his siblings, she began to understand some of the quirks she'd seen from him, and how to begin categorizing them. Sharing his coffee? *Huge* deal. Not even they got offered. Taking food of her plate? Standard issue. Apparently that was the way the man ate. Him picking up the check at the restaurant? *Very* rare. When he was bored, he vandalized. Apparently the artwork outside the office was his. Jock had offered to paint it, Randy had taken him up on it. She had a feeling there would be art up again sooner or later, but she was curious to see what it would be now that the office was "hers". The pick-pocketing continued, mostly her iPod when it was out on the unit with the speakers. Random songs would appear out of thin air. She couldn't say she minded that much.

It was strange, how quickly she got into the routine of the lunacy. John was... John. There was really no other way to describe him. At this point, she associated him with lunacy and expected nothing short of it. She had quickly learned that bargaining was the way to go with him, so she made certain to put a sign on the patient rooms whenever there was someone in there. So long as he respected those signs, he could help her type things up afterward and mock her mistakes when he found them. Randy much rather preferred that then him walking in on a breast examination or some other such thing.

And then there was the kiss. Well, the almost-kiss. There was no sign of such a thing returning, no other move to pick up where they had left off. Ultimately, it was fine by Randy, really. But at the same time, it was... nice, knowing she could still *feel* that again. She might be broken, but there was repairing that could be done. Her therapist agreed, and she gave Randy the reason why: the man was emotionless. The man was asexual. Therefore, he wasn't a threat.

It was lunacy.

In other words, it was exactly what was to be expected when it came to John Riley.

Comments

[asthenoseonyourface]

The next time she saw John, he was standing outside her office, smoking.

It was less bad than using, but still bad. Jane was in court, he was annoyed with Jock for hiding his spray paint, and Randy's office wasn't open yet. He'd texted her five times already (granted, in the last four minutes) and was just about to call her when she appeared.

"Come have coffee with me." it was immediate, and it wasn't a request. Coffee was what he did when he felt the urge, but alone disn't help. Alone made it worse, alone let him think, alone was dull.

So he asked Randy to coffee. Randy wasn't boring...and when she started quoting Doyle, she was even less boring...possibly the least boring person on the planet.

[coatandscarf]

She'd ignored the texts, knowing how close she was to the offices. But when he greeted her with a request for company for coffee, she only shook her head with a soft sigh. She had barely stepped out of the cab and he was already demanding her attention.

"Holmes, you're the most impatient man in the world." She motioned with her free hand for him to lead the way into the shop, leaning against the cane as she limped after him. The wonders of having a coffee shop right next door to their offices. Convenient, really. Considering how much coffee John seemed to drink, maybe not so. Something told her the twins had set this up.

[asthenoseonyourface]

"And you're never where you're supposed to be, Adler." he grumbled, crushing out his cigarette beneath his foot to fall into step beside her. Opening the door to the coffee shop for her because Jane said it was polite, he followed her in and led her to a table, folding his tall, reedy frame into a chair.

"I'm bored and I need coffee." he groused. "It doesn't work if I'm alone." He paused, blinking. "Maybe I'm hungry, too."

And John ordering his own food was never a good sign for his mood.

[coatandscarf]

Randy just gave him a smile. "I'll order then. Give me a minute." She walked up to the counter and ordered the usual for her, and the mocha espresso with a shot of vanilla for him. She paused, looking over her shoulder at him for a few moments. "Make it a double espresso. And a chocolate danish. And a cinnamon muffin." Looking back at the barista, Randy smiled. "And if you wouldn't mind cutting them in half."

Paying, Randy returned with two plates, carefully balancing them one atop the other in one hand, putting them at the center of the table before slipping into the seat opposite him. "They'll be a moment with the coffee." She broke off a piece of the cinnamon muffin and popped it into her mouth. A total carb-fest, but she didn't care. She'd work it off in PT later.

[asthenoseonyourface]

John didn't answer, just drummed his fingers rapidly against the surface of the table like gunfire. He was usually silent and sullen for the first few minutes, but just before he got unbearable, he'd open up about what was bothering him without preamble or provocation.

Today was no exception.

"I'm making my sister miserable." he blurted, staring hard at the tabletop. "Jock, too...I just don't know how to fix it. I get so bored, and then...people get hurt. I can't help it."

[coatandscarf]

Randy tilted her head at him slightly, trying to think of what he might've done to make Jane miserable. Randy hadn't gotten any indication that he'd done anything particularly out of the ordinary as of late.

She broke off a piece of the danish, eating it absently. It took some effort though, she wasn't a big fan of danishes. She'd ordered it because she recalled he'd brought it to her flat and eaten one without having to share it. It implied he liked it enough to eat it on his own. She hoped by breaking off a piece herself, that desire to 'share' his food would come through.

"...'And that was how a great scandal threatened to affect the kingdom of Bohemia.' What happened to Jane?"

[asthenoseonyourface]

John had been carefully studying that feeling which came when she quoted The Story, so it didn't surprise him this time. Still, it came over him, powerful and sweeping, and it was a second. Score he trusted himself to speak.

Slowly, he reached towards the food...and tore off a piece of the muffin, a bad sign.

"Bob Cole." he spat out, as though it was a curse. "Thirty four, blonde, blue eyed, swimmer. Owns a car dealership, loves spicy food...and already has a girlfriend. He's been dating my sister for eleven days and ten hours."

[coatandscarf]

At least she'd gotten him to reach for a piece of some type of food. Progress. Randy frowned at him in confusion as he began to speak, but reached for another piece of the muffin. She was mid-swallow when he concluded with the fact that this person was *also* dating Jane.

She cleared her throat a bit, thankful that the coffees both arrived just then. She coughed a bit, opening the lid to stir in two packets of sugar. "I see. I'm guessing that he's not dating her anymore." It was probably the worst possible response to give, but what else could she say? It was a horrible situation to be in, and possibly worse than that, considering how *tense* he was. He'd done something, and it had likely upset his twins. Randy knew he hated upsetting them. She had a sinking feeling he had done just that.

[asthenoseonyourface]

"Worse: he's pressing charges." John sighed, reaching for his coffee and taking a sip. He paused, blinked, then took another...double espresso.

The electricity slid back again, but he felt strangely warm for it. Totally thoughtless of the bombshell he'd just laid out, he extended his coffee towards her, offering her that unheard privilege of sharing with her.

Because, obviously, his coffee tasted much better.

[coatandscarf]

With him so close, it was impossible not to close the distance between them. She rose up slightly, bringing her free hand up to his shoulder, her lips brushing against his in a tender kiss.

It was absolutely electrifying.

Even something as chaste as this, when she drew away to look at him wordlessly, her eyes shot up to meet his, looking for some sign on his face that he felt the same thing as she.

[asthenoseonyourface]

There was a moment, just a moment as a kernel of something like fear touched him, but then her mouth was just barely pressed to his, her body heat radiant against him.

Everything stopped. Time, space, life...and his own mind. For the first time since his very first taste of heroin, everything was totally still and totally, perfectly quiet.

Then the kiss broke, and he didn't really seem to be seeing her so much as through her. The world was turning again, his mind was racing...but it was Secretariat in the home stretch, everything rushing around him with shocking clarity.

She used lavender soap and there was cucumber extract in her shampoo. The Carlton homicide from six months ago: the gardener did it. Her makeup was Cover Girl brand, she hadn't worn nail polish in at least three years. Jessica Randolph's rapist was a golfer, her best friend's husband did it. Jane's boss was throwing a party that weekend, it was clear in her hair that morning...

He could see everything, he could keep up with everything, he could...think, perfectly, flawlessly with the help of that strange dark hunger lurking beneath the glittering, jewel-like clarity of his thoughts.

Tugging his hands free, John took her face between his hands and kissed her again.

And again.

And again.

The first was clumsy on his part, the second less so. The third was butterfly soft, the fourth was slow and hungry, the fifth was hard and quick, and every time their lips met the same thing would happen.

Everything would stop. Everything was quiet.

And when they parted, when the world suddenly rolled back to life, his mind worked with such painful, perfect clarity he thought his heart would burst with the sheer joy of it.

[coatandscarf]

Oh, he definitely felt it. She didn't need the second kiss he drew her into to tell her that. Or the third... or the lingering touch of the fourth. Or the rough kiss of the fifth.

She let him take the lead for now, knowing full well that this might very well be his first time in this 'field'. One arm came up to wind around his shoulders, the other resting lightly on his hip. When he drew them apart after his last kiss, she opened her eyes to really take him in.

He wasn't empty. That... nothingness in his eyes had vanished.

Her knees threatened to buckle under the weight of the implication. "Sofa," she got out, leading him the few steps onto the nearby cushions. She needed him right then more than she needed air. It was... lunacy. How could she have expected anything else? They practically fell onto it, next to each other and Randy instantly found herself leaning in, capturing his lips once more in a truly lingering kiss. She nipped at his lip lightly, gently prompting him to part his lips for her. For the first time in ages, her mind actually had stopped thinking, giving her a chance to focus: and right then, her focus was entirely on him.

[asthenoseonyourface]

It was good, wonderful, the perfect drug...but then his lips parted, she deepened the kiss, and John knew it was just like all drugs: dangerous, bad...so very, very bad.

He felt that moment come, when he ought to stop and enjoy the rush, and felt it sail past him. He sank deeper into that quiet and euphoria in that single moment than he had in years of drug abuse, and he wasn't going to stop.

The angle was odd, not right, so he reached for her, tugged her to sit across his lap. He kissed her like he breathed, inhaling Randy and exhaling everything else. That glittering rush of thought was leaving him, and he was blind. Blind to all but her face, deaf to all but the quiet, quick sound of her breath between kisses, his brain shutting down, cell by cell, unable to function for anything that wasn't Randy Hughes and her touch and her taste...

He'd never done this before, but he knew where it led. He knew what came next, knew where this drug would take him if he kept going...and like every other drug he took, he didn't care. He would follow it all the way down just for the quiet, just for the stillness and the dark.

Put the pills down. Take the needle out. Stop, step back, think...think!!

It took every last ounce of strength to break the kiss...but that was bad, that was pain, that was worse than being out of pills or not finding the vein the first time, so he pressed his face to her shoulder and took slow, deep, shaking breaths. He couldn't consume her with a face against her shoulder, couldn't chase that dragon any further, could still feel and breathe and taste the memory of her on his tongue.

For a long time, there was just breathing, heartbeats, a quiet office and a warm body in his lap.

And John knew, with a strange lightness of being, that there was a slim chance he would never be bored again.

[coatandscarf]

Good God, his kisses were more addictive than Vicodin. She didn't even protest as he pulled her toward him, curling her arms around his shoulders to draw herself closer as the kiss deepened. Her fingers came up to tangle themselves in his thick curls, using them as leverage to keep him close. Not that he seemed to give any indication that he wanted to break away just then.

Unfortunately, they both needed air, and the kiss broke, leaving them breathless. When he dropped his head against her shoulder, she mirrored him, burying her forehead against his long neck. She could feel his pulse against her skin, and she couldn't help but smile softly to herself. It was reassuring, knowing that this clearly had as much an effect on him than it did on her. Perhaps not so strangely, she was more than content to just sit there on his lap and hug him toward her. As much as she wanted to put those patient beds to use just then, there was no way it was happening just yet. They needed some time. *She* needed some time to wrap her head around the idea that she was... okay with this. With him. With *doing* this again. She never thought she'd be able to again.

"You've taken me in completely," she whispered, compelled to speak, to say *something* to acknowledge this, her breath warm against the skin of his throat.

[asthenoseonyourface]

Those words, that warm puff of air...he was just starting to surface again, and that sucked him right back under and stopped his brain from functioning. He lost control, his face was turning and he never considered putting his mouth there before, touching and pressing to that tiny, soft, and delicate patch of skin just over the carotid artery...

"Careful." He just managed to croak the word out before he could pull himself away to look up at her. For the first time, there was real feeling in his expression...dark, raw, hungry and full of heat. Her face was between his hands again, and her skin was warm to the touch, cheeks flushed, and his fingers were already curling with the urge to pull her in again...

"You have to be careful." he warned again, still trying to make his brain work. He was drawing her in again, though, it wasn't working. His thumbs were smoothing over her cheekbones, his nose brushing hers. If he kissed her again, he was going to keep on kissing her, suffocate her for it, drink her down and swallow her whole until there was nothing left...

"You have...to be careful..."

His mouth hovered over hers. His fingertips teased at the edge of her hairline, one tracing the outer curve of her ear.

"...you have to be able to stop me."

[coatandscarf]

Oh God, the emotion on his face. Like he could have her whole right then and there, and be all the better for it. The terrifying part was, she'd let him. As his hands moved along her face, her own fingers tightened on the back of his neck, itching to draw him in to her once more.

The barest grazing of their noses was electrifying, dizzying. His lips teased hers as he continued to warn her. His fingers brushed against the edge of her ear and she felt a moan escape her. That had never been an erotic point for her before. What the hell happened now?

"Y-you'll stop if I tell you," she breathed, her fingers shifting to press into his scalp, rubbing the back of his skull in gentle motions. "Because neither of us will have this again... if you don't." And she definitely wanted this. She wanted so much *more*.

[asthenoseonyourface]

The press of her fingers made his eyes fall shut and his head arch of its own accord, turning just so and right there, and it was just like the opiates, drowsy warmth and comfort. Making a sound dangerously close to a purr, he opened his eyes again...warmer now, but no less dangerous, no less hungry.

She didn't understand...she didn't know about the hot and desperate things clawing inside him. She didn't know what it meant for him to have somehow stumbled into this thing like a child lost in the dark. She didn't understand the things his family did, why they went to such great lengths to keep him busy and safe and on the side of the angels.

"When it's quiet," he murmured, leaning into her touch just a little bit more, "I won't care."

[asthenoseonyourface]

John rolled his eyes, lifting his head to rest his chin atop hers. "Nice, cordial, polite...BORING!" he abruptly bellowed releasing Randy to move towards the client with a finger lifted to point at her.

"Stains on your wrist, accelerant, you moved it recently. Acrylic nails too close to the flame, that's a burn streak. You were holding something on fire in your hand, and judging by the way you're dressed and the second rate perm? In need of money. You're hiring detectives to find a will when you barely have the scratch to pay us? My guess is that sweet Uncle Ted cut you out, so you burned it, forged another, and you're gonna hire us to find the fake...tell me I'm wrong."

Moving back to Randy, John tucked himself right back in the same place: standing behind her, arms around her waist so he could press his face to her hair or neck or shoulder if he wanted.

"And by the way? Stalinson case from last week? Check under the house." John declared casually, tucking Randy back securely against his chest. "That's where they stashed the box."

Jane had to turn away and busy herself with something on her desk to hide her giggles. Jock just stood, gaping next to the client, who was in a similar state of shock.

Finally, Jock leaned over to see the stains John was talking about, then finally shook his head with a sigh.

"Okay, Jane: I owe you twenty bucks." he quipped, glancing up at Randy with a smile. "A girlfriend is good for the big galoot."

"She's not my girlfriend." John huffed as Jock caught the client's wrist to prevent her from leaving when she moved to dart out of her chair. He then blinked, then frowned down at Randy curiously.

"Are you?"

[coatandscarf]

The moment John was back, he tucked her against his chest like it was the only natural place in the world for her to be. Really, she couldn't protest it too much. She rather liked it, her head tucked under his chin, his arms curled around her. It gave her a sense of comfort, along with the freedom of being able to look around without being too restricted. Yes, this was just fine by her.

Randy noticed Jane's sudden fascination with her desk, and Jock's obvious flabbergasted look wasn't even hidden. Clearly, these two either never expected John to get a girl or just didn't know what to expect when he did. She guessed the latter, and was proven correct when Jock declared Jane the winner of a bet, prompting John to declare that Randy wasn't his girlfriend.

The look of curious confusion as he looked down at her to correct himself caused her to giggle. "Well John, such a relationship is a two-way street but... yes, I think that this could lead to that." Randy diplomatically decided not to mention that she'd be upset if she'd see him with another woman just then, recalling what had just happened to Jane. "I don't want to distract you, though, or be any sort of hindrance. If you'd rather not be..." God, please don't let him say no. Then again, things were going so fast, maybe no was best?

She had no idea what she was doing anymore. Lunacy. She'd fallen into lunacy with him.

[asthenoseonyourface]

John's features switched like a light flicking off, growing cold and hard at the very idea that she might be backing away from...whatever it was they were sharing, that thing, that beast that rose in him when they kissed...that diamond's edge of clarity and sweet, gaping abyss of warmth and dark that he found in her.

He risked it then, bending to kiss her, to tug her back against his chest even tighter, as if kissing her hard enough and holding her close enough could eradicate even the thought of it from her mind, the very idea that she was going to change her mind...

He was pretty sure he'd fall to pieces if she left him alone now.

[coatandscarf]

Evidently, John was not enthused about the idea. Rather the opposite, really. His expression grew cold again, getting that emotionless haze that had vanished while they kissed.

He leaned in then, kissing her once more, as if he hoped to wipe away any doubt in her mind. Her arms darted around his waist and she returned the kiss, just as eager to assure him that she wasn't going anywhere. When they parted, her hand came up to play with his hair lightly, brushing it out of his eyes. "Don't worry, Holmes. I'm not going anywhere, so long as you'll have me."

[asthenoseonyourface]

"Your Majesty has nothing which I should value more highly." he paraphrased breathlessly, shifting to press his face to the top of her head, rather than risk another kiss. He was still rising from that one, scales falling away from his eyes on the rush of adrenaline and pleasure that came from it...

"We should investigate the murder of the uncle." John suddenly declared, turning to press his cheek to the top of Randy's head so he could talk.

Jane turned to face him while Jock was on his cell phone, calling some friends at the precinct. "You think the destruction of the will is related to his death?"

"Obviously." John snorted, then shifted to look down at Randy with a raised eyebrow.

"Wanna see another dead body?"

[coatandscarf]

Randy pressed her forehead against his lips lightly as he pressed himself against her. One arm slipped around his waist, the other up his back to hold onto his shoulder lightly. As if she could really walk away from him now. For the first time in ages, she wanted a man, and didn't mind being wanted in return. That a man like this saw anything in her, especially her mind... she was beyond flattered. He was a drug, and she wasn't going to quit him anytime soon.

When he shifted to look down at her, she couldn't help but laugh in response to his question. "Holmes, you're such a romantic. Yes, I'll help you on your case. I'd imagine he's left the coroner's by now though, if there was nothing suspicious about his death."

[asthenoseonyourface]

"Dead body? You kidding? He's trying to get into your pants with that one." Jane snickered.

"Well that's what boyfriends do, isn't it?" John huffed with a roll of his eyes. "Dead body, suspicious circumstances, forged will?"

He turned back to Randy with that lively spark of engagement in his eyes, silent and inviting. It was clear enough on his face: he thought the whole thing was very sexy.

"Well," Jock sighed, shutting his phone, "patrol car is on the way to pick up Miss Schumaker here, and according to Robertson? Homicide is catching this one. Uncle died of a heart attack, no history of heart disease."

[coatandscarf]

Randy arched a brow at Jane's comment, bemused at the comment, even if she felt a blush rising to her cheeks at the thought. She wasn't entirely sure she was ready for that just yet. It was one thing kissing each other like they needed each other to breathe, it was quite another to...

She shuddered then, her eyes flicking up in time to catch John's expression. Part of her was a bit disturbed by what she saw then: he actually did enjoy this. Did he think this was normal courting? Then again, she hadn't given any indication that she'd like anything else. Perhaps that was why the other part of her was quite alright with this turn of events. Things were so outrageously unusual, that she couldn't think of any reason why his behavior should scare her away.

Randy turned around at that, thinking of the various causes why he might have had a heart attack, but she wasn't about to say anything with the woman present. "Do you know anyone in Homicide that we might be able to speak to?"