Title: Mae West's Got Nothing On Maggie
Rating: Hard R
Pairings/Characters: Lindsey McDonald/Maggie Collins (yes, you read that right. *g*)
Disclaimer: I'm just playin' in this sandbox
For: telaryn, who rocks my socks.
Notes: Last year I was working on a huge Angel/Leverage crossover story (which I am still working on, honest) and one of the sub-texts was that Ian Blackpoole was attempting to blackmail Nate Ford with the proof that his wife of the time (Maggie) had slept with Eliot. Blackpoole wasn't quite up to engineering that, but Eliot did happen to have an identical twin who was under the control of IYS so...
There is a *lot* more to this story, and writing/polishing this scene has got me excited about it again so hopefully the whole thing will come out soon - but in the meantime, in the words of Ed Sheeran: "They say I'm up and coming, like I'm f*cking in an elavator"...
AND HAPPY BIRTHDAY TEL!!!!!
He's sick of it. All the glad-handing and fake smiles and faker conversations Back in the day he'd had an easy escape route from this type of corporate bullshit. All he had to do was work the extra hours – which had the added bonus of earning him a reputation of being 'keen'.
Of course, having screwed over the firm, tried to bring down the Senior Partners and actively courted the Black Thorn had led to him spending more than a little time in various hell dimensions before being 'loaned out' to a subsidiary company, anyone would expect him to be grateful that he was given the opportunity to represent the company at all.
And yeah, maybe he would appreciate it, if it weren't for the asshole who liked to think he was controlling Lindsey.
Ian Blackpoole. CEO of IYS Securities. Arrogant, supercilious, self-serving son of a bitch.
Everything Lindsey had pretended to be. Back when he had a choice.
It's a little strange, Lindsey thinks, it's not like Blackpoole to forget about him. Whenever he's been summoned in the past it's been a case of getting the job done and quickly being banished back to the hellish limbo to await the next summons. But tonight, for some reason, that's just what seems to have happened. And dammit, Lindsey plans to make the most of his unexpected freedom.
He tries to tell himself that she's just some random pick-up, and in a way she is. But he can't deny there's something more to it. Something about her that he finds more than a little intriguing – and not just because of her clear dislike of Ian Blackpoole. He kinda wishes he had the time to actually get to know her a little, but there's no telling how long this grace period will last.
Besides, she's just as keen to get things going as he is. She's leaning against him, letting him support her, as they wait for the elevator – and thank god she had a room here is all he can think – and her hands are roaming over his shirt, tugging gently at his hated tie. As she slides her fingers under the lapels of his jacket he can't help the grin and he leans forward to breathe into her ear "Patience, darlin'."
The look she throws him almost makes him laugh out loud and he wills the elevator to get here quicker. Especially when her hand drops down and gives his ass a tight squeeze.
He stands back and lets her enter the elevator first and hits the button for her floor – after all, she's the one who invited him upstairs and he can be a gentleman when he has to be. He smiles, slow and easy, as she turns towards him with a hungry look on her face.
She steps forward then grabs his jacket and pulls him in for a kiss. It's all bruising need and want and he gasps as she palms him through his pants.
"What was that about being patient?" she asks with a smirk and Lindsey honest-to-God growls as he grabs her upper arms and pushes her back against the wall of the elevator.
He by-passes her mouth and instead drags his teeth over her jaw line, loving the breathy moans she makes as he moves his lips to the pulse point in her throat. He sucks at it lightly then lathes it with his tongue as he lets one hand slide down the curves of her waist and hip and finds the hem of dress.
She bucks against him a little as he pushes the material up a little and he grins against her neck as she hooks her leg up around his hip and pulls him closer.
He lets his fingers explore the length of her thigh, careful not to let his hand get too close – even though he can the heat radiating from her as she keens against him.
She moans again and tries to reach for his belt buckle but he moves quickly to catch her wrists and pin them against the wall over her head. Her head drops back against the mirrored wall in appreciation and exposes her throat to him once more. He uses one hand to hold her hands in place and lets the other trail down the side of her face, cupping her jaw, tracing the contours of her collarbone, her breasts, her belly, her hips, her thighs, her core.
Finally he strokes one finger across the lace of her underwear and is both pleased and a little amused at how wet she is already.
She tries to grind down against his hand and he lets his lips find their way to the sensitive point behind her earlobe and whispers "patience".
It's only when the bell tings and the doors start to open that he remembers exactly where they are and as he releases her wrists and helps her find her feet again he tries to catch his breath.
"You said something about a nightcap?"