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The Mile High Club

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Olivia was adamant. "We are absolutely not having sex on the flight to Cancún."

Alex was equally adamant that they would, but she knew arguing with Olivia was useless. Her detective disliked planning them in advance or even talking about them unless it was in the moment. Olivia found their habit of semi-public sex worrisome and more than a little embarrassing. Unfortunately – or was it fortunately? – neither of them seemed able to break the pattern.

Instead of arguing, she changed the subject. "Maybe we shouldn't go to Mexico. I might drink some bad water and get sick," she mused, finishing off her moo goo gai pan and staring at Olivia, who was lounging on their bed. Even though she was eating in the bedroom, something Olivia hated, the brunette wasn't complaining. The unintentionally sexual thought almost made Alex laugh, but she managed to hide her amusement.

If Olivia heard half of the sexual puns and 'that's what she said' jokes wandering around in my head, she would leave me. She was supposed to be a serious lawyer, after all, and serious lawyers did not make dirty jokes or engage in risky sex with decorated NYPD detectives. At least not usually...

"Alex, we already have the tickets. They cost a fortune. Both of us practically had to sell our souls to get the same vacation time. We're going."

The night before they left, she purposely faked a headache before bed, leaving Olivia wanting, and the next morning, she stopped half-way through a heavy petting session to point out that their suitcases were still only half packed and they were probably going to be late if they didn't get up and dressed. Olivia was almost too far-gone to care, but when Alex reminded her about the money they had already spent on the tickets, she reluctantly got out of bed. Appealing to Olivia's frugal nature was always effective.

"We're not having sex on the flight, Alex," Olivia reminded her as they waited in line for their bags to be screened. The detective had already argued with two different personnel about possessing the proper licenses and filling out the necessary paperwork to carry her piece. Technically, she didn't need it, but leaving behind her service weapon would have been like leaving behind an arm or a leg.

Alex seemed to accept this, but she was busy preventing another unnecessary delay by giving the young male screener a meaningful look when he opened his mouth to announce that there was a 'weapon-shaped object' in Alex's carry-on. He wisely decided not to investigate further.

However, Olivia knew that her lover's unnatural cheerfulness meant that Alex was up to something. "Not happening," she said firmly.

"You've never wanted to join the Mile High Club?"

Unfortunately, a mother and father with a small child of six or seven passed by at exactly the wrong moment. "What's the Mile High Club?" the young girl asked. Her mother gave the two women a seething glare.

Thinking quickly, Olivia salvaged the situation. "It's the club you get to be a part of when the nice Pilot gives you your plastic wings, sweetie. It means you were brave enough to fly on a plane." Although still annoyed, the mother was also relieved that Olivia had averted disaster. The father, on the other hand, looked highly amused.

Alex, who was equally amused, gave Olivia a playful hip bump. "You wanna give me wings, baby?"

"You've got me confused with Red Bull," Olivia grumbled. "I mean it, blondie. We're not engaging in any inappropriate activities on the flight to Cancún. That's final.

Forty-five minutes later, they were in the plane's tiny, cramped restroom and most definitely engaged in an inappropriate activity.

"No... this is a really bad idea-aaah..." Olivia groaned as Alex undid her belt and pushed her back against the low sink. The metal basin was at hip level, just the right height for Olivia to perch on as Alex dropped to her knees and draped one of Olivia's legs over her shoulder.

"Yeah, I've heard that before. Shut up and enjoy it already, Benson." With her pants still caught on her other leg and one shoe missing, trapped in a claustrophobic airplane restroom, Olivia felt completely embarrassed and = oh God, Alex's mouth feels so good...

Drowning. Alex had always heard that drowning was a peaceful way to die, but drowning in Olivia was heaven. The clean, warm taste. Pink folds flared open around two curling fingers, the hard, slick bundle twitching against her tongue as she dropped kisses at its tip. All silkiness and smoothness and, for just a moment, a split second of trembling, quivering vulnerability as her lover shuddered out her release, chewing on the inside of her cheek and trying to swallow her sounds of pleasure.

She loved this. She loved making her lover come. She loved driving her crazy. Mostly, she just loved Olivia. Loved and wanted her closer every second of every day, even 35,000 feet in the air in a bathroom smaller than the closet where she kept her shoes. Of course, she had a lot of shoes, but that wasn't the point.

If anyone outside suspected, Alex could have cared less. Olivia was still gasping her name, twitching with violent aftershocks, thighs painted with a clear, wet glaze that the blonde was more than happy to take care of for her.

"You are going to get me in so much trouble," the detective finally groaned when she regained her voice.

But she wasn't mad.

She wasn't even mad when the family from earlier, who happened to be sitting a few rows away from the bathroom, saw them exit the restroom together. The little girl smiled and waved. Her mother looked like she might faint. But it was her husband's wink that put a blush on Olivia's cheeks.

Alex smiled. Someday, Olivia would realize that arguing with a lawyer (especially a pretty lawyer you happened to be sleeping with) was a waste of time.