Hi all.Don't ask where this tale came from, it just wrote itself. I've been watching alot of "Titanic" on cable, so maybe it is inspiring me to greatness (ha ha).
Anyway, this is an ADULT N&N tale. If you are under 18 or are offended, you know what to do. Into the lifeboats, NOW!
This tale is a companion to my earlier shorts,"We WHAT?", "Of Mortal Loving", and "Fire of Love". It takes place sometime after "Of Mortal Loving", but can stand alone. It's part of my continuing saga of Nick's re-introduction to mortality. Again, it has some humorous and human slants.
Oh. In this series, Don Donut is alive and well, as is Tracy the Perky and her Vaquero, the Spanish Vachon.
Boilerplate.....legalese...I do not own these characters, you know who does. I am just giving them a new lease on life.
Permission to archive at JADFE, Mel's page, the fkfanfic site and Mortal Love. All others, please ask...
Lastly, this tale was also inspired by real events. I used to dance...and I have done a similar shoot, though in different character. That's all I will say---you need to read!
Comments, resin, bouquets or raspberries to pasvee@yahoo.com. Enjoy!
Pas de Deux By Mistress V
"I still don't know," Nick mused.
"Mmmmmmm?" Natalie hit the rewind button. They'd finished watching TITANIC---again. Despite his initial pooh-pooing of the film (after all, he HAD been there), Nick had found it very enjoyable. This was their 6th viewing since that first, magical, mortal weekend...and their sex life had gotten even more spectacular. Natalie knew Nick was romantic, but the film had driven him to new heights.
"The special effects. I mean, why did they show her on her toes like that?" Nick laughed. "It's physically impossible!"
"No it isn't." Natalie's voice was authoritative in its tone.
Nick looked at her. "How would you know?" he ventured, curiosity piqued. He was learning more about Natalie every day, and loving it.
"I took ballet for years. It's possible to go *en pointe* without blocks," she paused, wincing, " but it hurts like hell. Believe me."
"You danced?" Nick was intrigued. This was a part of Natalie he'd never known. He loved the arts, particularly ballet, from his time in Russia, but hadn't pictured Natalie as a ballerina.
"*For YEARS*," she repeated emphatically. "It kept me sane. I babysat to make the money and took class whenever I could."
Nick kissed her forehead, imagining the sight. "And now?" he asked.
"I haven't been near a *barre'* in over 10 years," Natalie declared. "I really should take it up again, it kept my thighs in great shape."
Nick stroked her inner legs. "I like your thighs," he murmured, "and I think they're in beautiful shape."
Natalie blushed. Their repeated sexual encounters had re-toned long-forgotten muscles everywhere. But still...
"I'd love to se you dance, Nat," Nick whispered, kissing her softly.
"Oh Nick," Natalie rolled her eyes, sighing, "I'd fall all over myself." She stroked a firm object to distract his train of thought.
*---*
"Honestly," Natalie giggled to Grace. "These days, romace has become so commercial. I mean, you can buy all the elements ready-made! Look at this!!! Seduction by phone. Erotic bubble bath. Chocolate body paint..." she stopped, intrigued by an ad in the magazine she was perusing.
"See something interesting?" Grace smiled knowingly.
Natalie looked thoughtful. "Maybe."
For the next month, Natalie was secretive in her after work activities. "I'm working out," she told Nick. "Gotta get in shape---the departmental physical's in 4 weeks."
"Can't I come to the gym with you?" Nick asked, pouting just a little, envisioning Natalie in a bike shorts.
"Sorry." Natalie kissed him. "It's a women's fitness class, so you can't." She limped slowly upstairs for a bath. Nick watched her. "Take it easy, Nat," he cautioned. "Don't overdo it."
Natalie only smiled.
*---*
"Knight. Package for you." The young Blue held out an envelope. "Evidence, I guess."
Nick frowned as he signed for the parcel. What was this? He sighed. More blasted paperwork, and it was Friday. There went the weekend.
He opened the envelope and was surprised to see a leather bound photo album, but no official documents. What case did this belong to? He pulled out the album and noticed a small handwritten note in Natalie's familiar script.
"Nick---I dance only for you."
He opened the book and gasped so audibly that Schanke and Tracey both looked up. "Problem?" Don inquired.
Nick swallowed hard. "No," he said slowly. "Just some new evidence."
He turned back to the album. There were a dozen or so high quality portraits. All of Natalie.
Nick was in shock as his mind registered the pictures. So *this* was where she'd been all these weeks...back at the *barre'*. The images made him shiver.
Natalie, seated on an antique carved wooden throne chair, dressed in hot pink tutu, *his* leather jacket (how had she gotten it out of the house without his noticing?), pointe shoes...and was that a *riding crop* resting on her thighs?
Natalie seductively tying the bow of her pointe shoe, bent over to show just enough cleavage beneath her...*black leather TEDDY*???
Natalie *en pointe*, leg lifted in a flawless arabesque, muscles flexed, lips parted, eyes begging him to touch her pink-tighted thigh.
Natalie, caught mid-pirouette, hair flying around her face, a study in concentration.
Nick continued flipping the pages, stunned. The erotic combination of black leather and pink satin was impossibly arousing. His jeans rapidly threatened to cut off circulation to his brand-new mortal manhood. He let out a quiet groan as he saw the final shot of Natalie, barefoot, *en pointe perfect*, arms in fifth position, chin up, eyes staring directly at the camera...at him.
"Touche," he murmured softly to himself.
"Hey partner?" Schanke's voice cut through his x-rated daydreams. "I just got the weirdest message." Nick looked over at him. "Natalie called. She said something was turned on back at the loft and you'd better get over there right away to take care of it..."
Nick was out the door before the sentence was finished.
"You know, I get the strangest feeling there's something *else* going on here," Schanke muttered to himself.
Tracey smiled, picking up the album. She and Grace had helped Natalie with every detail, right down to choosing the proofs with her. And it had been worth it. She speculated whether or not Javier might like a similar gift, then wondered what characters she'd portray for him. After slipping the album into her desk drawer, then locking it securely, she dialed the phone.
"The package is on its way," she annonced.
*---*
Nick was so impatient he almost wished he was a vampire again---for a moment---so he could rip the door off the elevator. "Nat?" he croaked.
"Upstairs, Nick," he heard her soft reply. It took him a second to realize the loft was lit with candles, all the way up the stairwell. He followed the trail of light, getting rid of superfluous items, like clothing, along the way. By the time he reached the bedroom, he was totally naked, and completely erect. Painfully so.
Natalie sat on the edge of their bed, equally naked. Slowly, erotically, she got to her feet and walked seductively towards him.
For the first time in his new-found mortality, Nick was at a loss for words. Feeling like a fourteen year old, he just stared worshipfully at her beauty.
"Dance with me, Nick," Natalie whispered as she stood on tiptoe before him. Nick watched, entranced, as she raised up completely *en pointe*, just as she had in the portrait. Her eyes never left his.
In a mortal heartbeat, she placed her hands on his shoulders and launched herself onto him. Her warmth enclosed his rock hard manhood and she wrapped her legs around his hips. Their mouths met in a passionate kiss.
Nick staggered slightly, then re-gained his balance and slowly walked them both towards the bed. There goes the weekend, he thought with a smile.
*---*
"Did Nick ever get that emergency taken care of? Schanke asked Tracey later that day.
Tracey loked up from her list...dominatrix...beat cop...Spanish maiden... She smiled. "Who knows? Probably something wet and time-consuming. He'll be gone for hours."
"And Natalie?" he continued, bored.
"I think she's stuck on something hard." Tracey barely kept a straight face as she dialed the photographer's number. Honestly, men could be SOOOOO dense at times. She grinned, imagining Javier's reaction to her surprise.
Schanke sighed, wondering why on earth Nick and the good doctor didn't give in to their obvious attraction for each other. Oh well, it wasn't his business...
<fin>
Comments, raspberries (chocolate covered, please), resin, bouquets to pasvee@yahoo.com
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