This is an adult story intended for adults only. If you're not old
enough to read this material, or if such things offend you, please do
not read it. Love it/hate it/want to send virtual mangoes, please feel
free to write.

Permission given to archive at fkfanfic website, jadfe, and my own
website. No other permission is granted to repost/reprint/reuse. 

This story is based primarily on characters and situations that aren't
mine. Thanks to TPTB for their use.



"Intrusions" 
by S. Clark


"Nick! What do you have to say for yourself?!" Natalie made her way down
the loft stairs, tightening Nick's dressing gown around her. Her tone,
her movement, radiated anger.

"Oops?" Nick gave a slight shrug.

"Oops? Oops!" She pointed to the body on the floor. "Nick, this is more
than an oops!"

His face remained blank. "Double oops?"

"Nick? How...? Why...?"

"Well," Nick started, "if you recall, you were kind of, 'oh Nick! oh
Nick!'"

Natalie blushed as he imitated the sounds she had been making, and was
tempted to giggle at the fact he was speaking in a falsetto voice.

"And I was kind of," Nick thrust his hips a few times, "busy, and then
the door to my room opened."

"But Nick, that was a mistake."

"I know, Nat, but when I'm kind of," he thrust his hips again, "I'm also
kind of," Nick held up two fingers before his mouth, making fake
fangs. "Predators don't take intrusions well."

Nick indicated the body on the floor. "And, before I knew it," Nick let
out a sigh.

"We're never going to be able to explain this." Natalie turned over the
corpse and closed the eyes.

"We'll figure out something. I'll set up a trust fund. Whatever. But in
the meantime..." Nick started walking slowly towards her. He'd left the
room rather quickly during the intrusion, and his naked state left his
intentions rather apparent. "...I don't think we were quite finished."

Natalie gave a laugh and raced back up the stairs, the robe floating
down from the landing once she reached the top.

Soon the sound of 'oh Nick, oh Nick!' echoed through the loft, along
with the syncopated thumping of Nick's bed against the wall.

Down in the kitchen Don Schanke sat up. He couldn't quite remember why
he'd come to Nick's place, but that didn't matter now. All that mattered
was he was hungry. Really, really hungry.

He'd just go ask Nick if it was ok if he raided the fridge. He was sure
his partner wouldn't mind.


<fin>
<sclark@best.com>