Author's Note: From the tumblr prompt: Angela can't choose between Cavanaugh and Korsak, so she tries both…at the same time. Rated M for some sexual content, threesome implied. I couldn't decide if I wanted to take this all the way or leave it as it is. So, for now I'm leaving it as is unless there seems to be an interest in a chapter 2…and I get very drunk in order to write it LOL

May the Best Man Win

It had been all nervousness and racing heart, sweaty palms and electrified skin, mind on overload and inappropriate giggles as delicate kisses on the sofa had grown increasingly passionate and strong hands, which caressed surprisingly softly had become needy and urgent. Clothes were breadcrumbs dropped hurriedly on the way to the bedroom and through her mind, the only thought: I've only ever been with one man.

She'd married young; that's the way it was back then, generationally, religiously. And in all those years of marriage she'd never thought of straying, never thought of the other men that might have been out there, the other experiences that she might have lived. She had been a happily married woman…or so she'd made herself believe. And now…now he was pushing her down onto the bed in only her bra and underwear and it was somehow more terrifying than that first time as a teenager on her wedding night. The realm of middle-aged divorcee had been confusing and awkward enough without the undermining thoughts of sexual inadequacy now that she was on the verge of actually having sex for the first time in…Oh, God. It's been years.

"Don't be nervous." His touch was gentle again, stroking her cheek as he kissed her, reassured her.

"Vince, it's been…" Angela took hold of his wrist and stilled his touch, fighting back tears that she knew would only add immeasurably to the embarrassment. She didn't want to be a crier, certainly not before the sex.

"It doesn't matter how long," he smiled sincerely, lowering himself until she could feel just how aroused he was through his boxers.

"Oh," she giggled one more time before pulling him forward abruptly to kiss her. That was all it took. A feeling long forgotten: being wanted, being desired. The nervousness melted away. Like riding a bicycle, one of the advice columns had said.

Angela arched her back as he reached behind to make short work of her bra as his kisses traveled lower…lower. Her eyes opened wide, a slow moan rolling out as her lover lavished detailed attention to her breasts with his hands and then with his mouth, causing her nipples to harden instantly when his mouth released them to the cool air.

Frank had traded her in. No one will want this old body, this body that's not what it used to be. That's what she had thought in the aftermath of her divorce. But, now, Vince Korsak was honoring every inch of her. Lower. His fingers hooking inside the waistband of the very expensive lace panties she had bought. Red, the color of the fabric, and of her face when she had purchased them. She couldn't even believe they made lingerie for women like her. But, when she had put them on earlier in preparation for her third date with Vince, she'd hadn't felt as sexy as she did in that moment in a long time. A long…long time.

"I like these," he murmured dragging the garment down her legs and kissing a trail down her inner thigh in its wake.

Now, she was completely exposed and that small niggling fear of inexperience began to creep back in. She readied herself. This was where Frank would flop down on top of her and achieve his thirty seconds of glory. Thirty seconds, she rolled her eyes at the memory, on a good day.

But, Vince Korsak didn't climb back on top of her. His hands stroked upwards from her ankles, over her knees, and he looked down with smile and a glint in his blue eyes as he pushed her legs wider and settled in between them with his lips and tongue.

"OH!" Angela exclaimed again. Frank certainly never did that!

Through her intense focus on the pleasure being given to her, Angela barely heard the doorbell at first, she gripped the sheets and gritted her teeth, craning her head towards the bedroom door as the unmistakable chime of the bell echoed again.

"I have to…"

"No, you don't," Vince looked up briefly to admonish her before returning to his ministrations.

Angela groaned and her hips bucked involuntarily at his touch but she fought the urge to ignore the doorbell and sat up, "It could be Jane or Frankie, or Tommy…something could be wrong with TJ…"

With a sigh, Vince nodded, rolling onto his back to wait as Angela threw on her robe and made her way to the door. She'd spent too many years putting everyone else first, a habit that wasn't likely to change over night.

"Sean!" Angela grabbed the sides of her robe and held them together tightly at her chest as she stood, wide-eyed and staring at Lt. Sean Cavanaugh on her doorstep with a bouquet of roses in his hand.

"Angela," he smiled as his eyes wandered down her body and back up, he cleared his throat, "Sorry to drop by unexpectedly. I just…I realized I made a terrible mistake. This isn't easy to admit, but I got scared and I ran. But, I don't want to do that anymore." Sean pushed past the shocked woman, who offered no words or motions of resistance, and made his way to the kitchen to retrieve a vase.

The momentary surprise subsiding, Angela suddenly remembered what…or who, rather, that she had left in the bedroom, "Sean, this isn't…"

"Angela, is everything ok?" Vince emerged from the bedroom in his boxer shorts and t-shirt and came to an abrupt halt when his eyes met those of his commanding officer. "Lieutenant…"

Setting the flowers aside, Sean stepped out from behind the kitchen island, immediately taking note of Korsak's state of relative undress, "Sergeant…"

Angela felt two pairs of eyes track slowly towards and settle on her. "Well, this is…awkward," she mused aloud.

Vince walked towards Angela, reaching for her hand, his face stern as he looked at his friend and superior officer, "Sean, with all due respect, Angela and I have been dating…"

"Dating…" Angela arched an eyebrow, "I don't know if I'd call it…"

Not backing down, Cavanaugh walked towards the couple and reached for Angela's other hand, "And Vince, with all due respect, I was dating her first!"

Angela pulled her hands away from the verbally sparring men and pushed them both an arm's length away. "Stop it now! Both of you!"

The vying suitors each froze, watching with trepidation and waiting to see what the object of both of their desires would say.

Angela crossed her arms and tapped her foot, "I spent almost forty years married to a man, who for most of that time, got more aroused by the evening sports report than he did by me! And I never complained…well, not about that anyway, and I never asked for more. So, while it's exceptionally flattering to have you both standing here arguing over me right now…I think for once in my life I've earned the right to make my own choice!"

Both men's faces evidenced an inaudible So? Who will it be?

The corner of Angela's mouth turned up in a smirk as she sauntered towards the bedroom. She stopped in the threshold and looked over her shoulder, earlier nervousness at being with only the second man in her life having surprisingly transformed into some kind of new empowerment and sexual awakening. "I think it's high time in my life a man was completely focused on pleasuring me for once." With that she pulled the tie of her robe and let it fall to the floor, disappearing back to the bedroom.

Slackjawed, the would-be boyfriends looked at each other. Korsak cleared his throat, "Well, I have some business to finish…"

"Not so fast," Cavanaugh chided, reaching out and grabbing his friend and colleague by the shirt and pulling him back.

"Well, we can't both…" Korsak's eyes got wide. "Unless…did she mean for us both…?"

Cavanaugh glanced around nervously before shrugging out of his jacket and reaching for his tie, "May the best man win."