Work Text:
Photo Play
by J M Griffin
Author's disclaimer: For money making purposes, they belong to Pet Fly. But for all other purposes they are ours alone.
PHOTO PLAY
By J. M. Griffin
Rafe started it by shoving Henri Brown into the tiny photo booth at the diner that morning.
"Hey, are you nuts. What are you doing?" The black cop said as he stumbled in and the camera snapped. But Henri caught on fast. "If I gotta do this; you gotta do this," he growled and pulled his partner in with him.
They hammed for the camera, first, tongues wagging, next, karate chops to each others throats and, finally, mutual strangulation. Four shots done, they decided it was over too soon, so Rafe fed the machine two more dollars.
"What's up, guys?" Megan Conner stuck her head in the booth, getting in the way of the first shot of the second round and causing the guys to groan in unison.
"Megan!" Rafe shrieked, dragging the woman into the booth that barely accommodated the two men. The camera flashed again. "You ruined two shots. Next round's on you!!"
Megan grinned and squirmed between the men. The camera caught Henri licking her ear. The next shot was Megan licking Henri and Rafe pulling Megan's hair.
They piled out into the diner's waiting area just as Blair Sandburg came over to see what all the laughter was about.
"Your turn, Sandy." Megan said as they stood waiting for the machine to spit out the finished photos.
"Oh, no," the anthropologist/police consultant said, looking over his shoulder, obviously hoping for the protection of his no-nonsense partner. Jim Ellison, however, was still in line at the cashier. (He'd lost the pool on how long it would take for the sting operation to run its course and the long nights on stake out to be over; so he had to pay the tab this morning.)
Megan ignored the young man's protest, putting in the requisite two dollars. Then, taking the matter firmly in hand, she grabbed Blair and pulled him into the booth with her.
"Hey, where did Sandburg go?" Jim asked Henri and Rafe as they stood outside the machine, giggling over the newly processed pictures. The big detective had been totally focused on the huge layout of his hard earned dollars and, true to form, hadn't been paying the least bit of attention to the merry group in the diner's foyer.
"Ewww, Megan!" The words emanated from inside the photo booth, followed by Blair's peal of laughter and Megan's throaty chuckle.
"Hey!" Jim growled and Rafe and Henri stepped back from the curtained door in haste. Jim thrust a hand into the booth and caught Megan's shoulder (the Sentinel, with his amazing heightened senses, could tell such things without even looking) and hauled the woman out.
Conner didn't even attempt to stifle her giggles as Jim shoved past her and dove through the curtain.
Alas, the camera had clicked the fourth shot while Blair was all alone. Outside, Henri grinned wickedly and dug two bucks out of his pocket. Inside, Jim found himself sitting pressed tightly against his partner, his ears turning red.
Jim turned toward Blair to make a snide remark and found himself within an inch of his Guide's cute little up-turned nose. Blair giggled (only word for that particular sound, sorry) as the flash went off.
"Can't waste the opportunity." Blair announced and captured Jim's head in his hands and planted a kiss on the bigger man's lips. Jim gasped. This served to open his mouth for the third picture, which Blair made sure contained a little tongue.
Jim lurched back from Blair (well, as far back as one can lurch on a one by two foot bench) and the fourth shot caught Jim's stunned look and Blair's pleased one. A special moment, immortalized for all time.
"Damn, " Blair hissed, knowing he was beyond broke. But Jim simply whipped two dollars out of his pocket and shuck his arm out through the curtain.
His offering was taken amid a burst of laughter. Someone fed the machine fairly quickly and the first shot was of Jim and Blair facing each other, an odd light shining in both men's eyes. The second one snapped the back of Blair's head, Jim's large hand buried in the riot of Blair's curls. The third showed both, pausing for breath, eyes locked on each other's faces. Blair was licking his lips lasciviously; Jim looked somewhat stunned, but was obviously considering another kiss.
The camera caught them laughing in the end -- surprise and delight on two passion glazed faces.
"Out," Henri bellowed.
"Out now," the entire chorus commanded and, since neither Jim nor Blair had any dollars left, they did as told. Well, they started to anyway, until Blair crawled into Jim's lap (he was on his way out, right?) and gave the man one more, earth shattering, bell ringing, kiss.
Rafe swung back the curtain just as Blair staggered up and out. It was apparent to the anthropologist that his Sentinel wasn't quite ready to move yet, so Blair managed to get the others distracted with a steady stream of babble, all the while maneuvering them out the door and into the parking lot. Brown and Rafe seemed clueless, but, considering the Australian woman's knowing gaze, Conner wasn't fooled in the least.
Jim caught up with Blair just as Megan was pulling her car out of the lot.
"Home and to bed, boys?" She said sweetly.
Blair chortled with glee, while Jim blushed, fumbling with four tiny pictures.
"Highway robbery," the detective muttered, but he opened his wallet and carefully slipped the photos inside.
"Home and to bed, Chief?" Jim asked Blair softly, once they were sitting side by side in the front seat of Jim's truck.
"I don't know, Jim." Blair pretended to give the question grave thought. "I think I'm too keyed up to sleep."
"Who said anything about sleep?" Jim turned the key in the ignition with a little more force than necessary. Blair laughed a deep, throaty laugh and slid down the bench to nestle close to his soon-to-be lover.
"Yeah, who said anything about sleep." The younger man repeated happily, pleased that they had a very short ride home.
End