No Smoke Without Fire

As usual, no infringement intended, no ownership in psych, TPTB own everything, I got nuthin', just borrowing a corner of the sandbox.

Spoilers through ep. 6.09: Neil Simon's Lover's Retreat

Fair warning, children: we're heading into the M territory. Gotta give these two crazy kids their payoff after 11 chapters of torture.

"Ow."

"Hush, now, you've had worse." Juliet carefully adjusted the bag of frozen peas she'd fished from Carlton's freezer over his swollen left eye. "Far worse. Now hold it there."

One brilliant blue eye glared up at her, the combination of exasperation and frustration abundantly clear, but his hand where it rested on her waist was gentle and still.

"I can't believe you just stood there and let him hit you."

"He deserved at least that much." The corners of his mouth twitched. "Be grateful he doesn't carry a weapon. He really is a hell of a shot, although if you ever tell him I said that, I'll deny it."

"Somehow, I'm not thinking I'll have much occasion to engage in that sort of casual conversation for a while." It was sad, sort of, but her sadness was more for how it had ended than the actual end of the relationship. If anything, that scene at the waterfront had just served to illustrate that really, she'd let it go on for too long.

"Are you okay with that?" His uncovered eye studied her carefully. "Are you okay?" he asked softly, his hand moving from her waist to capture hers.

"I'm fine." She sighed and sank beside him on the sofa. "I really am," she stressed in response to the skeptical lift of his eyebrow. "I'm just tired," she confessed, her head dropping to his shoulder and God, how she loved how it felt so perfect beneath her head, warm and solid, his arm automatically circling her shoulders in a protective embrace that allowed her to relax further.

"You know that kind of tired where you've been going and going and you don't realize just how tired you really are until you stop?"

"All too well," he replied and something in the tenor of his voice—a note of deep-seated loneliness and fear and sadness—caused her heart to skip a beat. Tilting her head back, she pressed a gentle kiss to the strong, angular line of his jaw. Trying to let him know she was there for him now.

Lifting a hand, she ran it through Carlton's soft, thick hair, her fingers catching on the various cowlicks, the light highlighting the abundant silver. How she loved how it contrasted with the black—loved it on his head, loved what she'd seen of it on his chest. Couldn't wait to see more of it. Of him.

"I didn't really understand how exhausting the whole thing had gotten until the moment he said my name down at the waterfront." The tips of her fingers traced the edge of his ear—she knew he thought they were too big, but so long as he didn't get frustrated and buzz cut his hair again, they were fine. All of him was fine. And hers. "After that first moment of panic, what I felt was relief that this was it—it was done. " Her stomach clenched at the thought of what else that moment had revealed—in such absolute stunning clarity, she was surprised it hadn't appeared in neon above her head.

With a sigh Juliet snuggled closer against him, her eyes drifting shut as the hand toying with his ear moved to his neck, the other coming to rest against his chest, his heartbeat steady and reassuring.

"I love you, too, you know."

Beneath her palm his chest rose and fell in a giant, shuddering breath and she thought she heard a nearly soundless "Thank God," escape on his exhale.

She'd already known she cared for Carlton—loved him, even. That had never really been in question. Their relationship—their bond—was too deeply forged in a closely shared past and experiences for her not to love him. But out of everything he'd done for her, seeing Carlton stand and take the brunt of Shawn's anger and betrayal—because he felt it was a debt owed and one that was worth it to him—had brought her emotions into clear, diamond-sharp focus. Confirmed the suspicions that had been plaguing her for weeks, during those endless, dream-filled nights.

Opening her eyes, she reached up and gently removed the bag of frozen peas from his eye, tossing it to the table as she sat up and carefully straddled his lap. As his hands automatically rose to span her waist, Juliet took his face in her hands, smiling down into the eyes that had always captivated her not so much for their stunning range of colors, but by the emotion they revealed when he so chose. And right now she was seeing in them so much that had been there—for so long—but had never recognized. Hadn't been ready to recognize.

"As it so happens, I don't just love you, Carlton," she said softly. "I'm absolutely, head-over-heels, completely in love with you." One thumb slowly, carefully traced the shallow, vulnerable curve of his lower lip as his mouth parted. "I suspect it's a forever sort of in love." Her pulse beat insistently at the base of her throat at the sight of his wide-eyed gaze, their color rapidly darkening into that deep, dangerous blue that she'd first seen in the dim light of the Paramount.

"I hope you're okay with that."

"So very okay, you have no idea."

The last thing she saw before her eyes drifted completely shut and her mouth met his was an expression of absolute joy in those eyes. One that she was going to do her damnedest to bring to light again and again. But for now—

Oh, how she loved how he kissed. So slow and thorough like he was learning her from the inside out, his tongue stroking hers in smooth sensuous motions that had her thighs instinctively tightening against his as her hands slid to his hair.

And unlike every other time they'd kissed, there was no sense of fear or guilt. No one to whom they could be held accountable, no reason for them to be interrupted, no obligations that had to be met—there was just Juliet and Carlton.

She sighed at the thought—Juliet and Carlton. Carlton and Juliet. O'Hara and Lassiter. So right.

Her head dropped back, exposing her neck to him as he trailed small kisses down to the curve where it met her shoulder, his teeth latching on and sucking gently. Marking her as his. Making her impatient for the opportunity to do the same to him.

All of a sudden, the world shifted as he turned her in his lap and stood, cradling her close as he made his way to the bedroom.

"We could've just stayed on the couch," she said, laughing as she peppered small kisses along his jaw, nipping at his ear lobe.

"The hell we could," he muttered, letting her slide to her feet. "I have waited too long for this, Juliet. Dreamed too many times about this."

"Me, too," she said, her fingers quickly working the buttons of his crisp cotton shirt, pushing the dark blue fabric from his shoulders and sighing with pleasure. "Like, literally," she confessed, her cheeks heating as her hands spread across his chest, the hair coarse beneath her palms, his skin so impossibly warm.

"I kept having these dreams of seeing you... naked—"

"In those stupid temporary showers in the parking lot," he finished on a gasp as her nails gently teased the small, flat discs of his nipples.

"Yeah—" She arched her back as he grasped the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head before unfastening her bra in one smooth motion, gasping as he brought her flush against him, chest to chest, her nipples hardening at the feel of skin and hair and hard muscle. "How—how'd you guess?"

"I was having the same damned dream. Among others. You've been in this bed with me for a long time now, O'Hara."

There was a sense of inevitability about it, Juliet thought, as Carlton very slowly, very thoroughly, seduced the hell out of her. Let her seduce the hell out of him in turn. From shedding the remainder of their clothing to lying together on the bed, exploring each others' bodies and learning what caresses elicited a gasp or what subtle shift would draw out a moan. What drove her over the edge, time and again, making her arch her back and gasp his name—what brought him to the brink, making his muscles tense and the cords on his neck strain with the tension of holding back because there was only one absolute he had for tonight and that was that first time, he would only give himself completely to her. In her.

And when they couldn't wait any longer, Juliet drew his long lean body over hers and with a sigh of utter completion and even more heightened arousal, learned just how perfectly they fit together. One thigh hooked over his hip, she moved against him as they discovered their own rhythms and within those rhythms, their own world.

This was everything Juliet had ever wanted.

Facing each other on the bed, their hands clasped together, talking about any and everything. Only one fear marred the perfect joy of this moment.

"Carlton, I don't want to be separated from you."

"Well, at my age, that might be a challenge—usually takes a little longer to recover, but the way you make me feel, anything's possible."

Smug jerk. Yet while she couldn't help but laugh at his relaxed Cheshire Cat smile and the deep blue intensity of his eyes, the niggling fear remained.

"We'll investigate your stamina further," she promised—oh boy, did she promise because they had a lot of lost time to make up for— "But that's not what I mean and you know it."

His smiled gentled as he shifted and drew her against his chest and dear God, all that warm skin against hers felt so good she nearly forgot what they were talking about. What were they talking about?

"We're not going to be separated and no one's going to be transferred."

Right.

That.

Her smile faded as her fingertips trailed through the coarse curls of hair, down to his flat stomach and across to his hip, curving over the smooth skin there. Holding on. She'd only just gotten him—she was damned if she was letting him go—in any way. Her stomach clenched at the thought.

"You sound awfully certain."

"Not sound—I am certain."

"But how?"

"You know how I was in Vick's office earlier?"

"Yeah." She eased back far enough to look into his face. "I assumed that was tying up loose ends with the Robicheaux case."

Hard to believe, too, that it was just a few hours earlier. Her entire world had shifted in a matter of hours, bringing with it a whole new focus. But two things hadn't changed—she wanted to remain a cop and she wanted to do so with Carlton by her side. That those two things went together was indisputable in her mind, but if she had to give one up for the other—well, no brainer what her choice would be.

He shook his head. "I very simply asked Karen to consider how much of a disruption Shawn had been to the department, both before and after the two of you started dating."

"And?"

"She said he'd been nothing short of a giant pain in the ass who tempted her on a daily basis to change her views on police brutality, but that cases did get solved."

No surprise there—that was open knowledge.

Her brows drew together. "Where are you going with this, Carlton?"

Keeping his gaze locked with hers, he said, "I then asked her to consider how much of a disruption I had been to the station considering I had been in love with you for years." He took the hand resting on his hip in his and drew it up to his mouth, very gently kissing the back. "That if she could come up with even one instance where my feelings for you had compromised a case or painted the department in a negative light, that she could accept my letter of resignation, effective immediately." At her gasp he added, "I did tell you I was prepared to take the consequences, Juliet. That I would be the one to do so. I meant it."

Terrified now, she could barely force out a shaky, "And—?"

"She said after giving it some thought, one notable instance did come to mind."

"Carlton, no!"

"Relax, baby." His voice was a soothing rumble as he drew her suddenly shaking body against his, letting his warmth seep into her chilled skin.

"I can't lose you," she whispered against his chest, tears clogging her throat. "I can't do this job without you. I mean, I can," she clarified, shaking her head, "but I don't want to."

"You won't have to." His big hands stroked her hair and back as he rocked her, ghosting kisses along her hairline.

"But she said—"

"Yeah, well, she also said considering that one instance had resulted in my saving my partner's life, she would consider it an exception and look past it."

What he was saying slowly penetrated, helping to calm her shaky nerves as much as his slow caresses and continued gentle rocking. "She's not going to separate us?" she said against his chest, hope slowly unfurling and easing the remaining tension holding her muscles hostage.

"No, Juliet. She's not going to separate us. Provided we keep working together the way we always have, for the time being, we're good."

"For the time being?" She lifted her head and met his gaze. "What does that mean?"

For the first time in a long time the shy, awkward Carlton she'd known for so long surfaced in the nervous fidgeting of his hands against her back and the wide, slightly terrified look in his eyes. And she didn't need light to know that he was blushing madly, judging by the rising heat of his skin against hers.

"It means if we get married—" Each word emerged husky and slow with uncertainty. "It's a decision that has to be revisited."

Behind the uncertainty she could clearly hear the fear—that it was too fast, too soon. That he understood while it was something he'd been living with for years, she'd only had a few days, really, to get used to the idea of him as the man in her life. Only a few hours since the dissolution of a relationship she'd waited a long time for.

But in his voice she clearly heard the intense desire to be completely honest and open with her and she knew what that cost him, her fiercely private Carlton, so afraid to reveal himself for fear of the hurt he might suffer as a result.

Cupping his face in her palms she leaned in and brushed a sweet, light kiss against that mouth that was so often held in stern lines, yet relaxed and yielded beneath hers, molding to a perfect, breathless fit.

"I guess we'll be revisiting it, then," she whispered against his mouth, gasping at the feel of his tongue tracing a slow, devastating line along her lower lip.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." After a deep, slow kiss she drew back and looked into his eyes. "Sooner rather than later, okay?"

Joy lit his eyes and brightened his entire face to something wonderful that Juliet wanted to see over and over again. For the next fifty years or so.

"And what about work?"

She grinned as she wound her arms around his neck and insinuated a leg between his, rubbing her thigh in a maddening, sensual rhythm. "I'm sure if we put our heads together, we'll figure out a solution that'll be acceptable to everyone. But I'm not spending another minute apart from you, Carlton Lassiter. "

He groaned as his body hardened and arched against hers, seeking her heat. "Good thing you won't have to."

As he rolled her to her back, she held him close and whispered, "Thank you."

Propped on an elbow, he gently brushed the backs of his fingers down her cheek. "For what?"

She gazed up into his utterly beloved features. "For fighting for my heart."

"What else could I do?" As he slid slowly into her, claiming her body the way he had her heart, he whispered in her ear, "You captured mine years ago."