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06 March 2016 @ 05:39 pm
Numb3rs Fic: Crosshairs  
Posted to numb3rs_het


Title: Crosshairs
Series/Universe: Crosshairs
Pairing/Characters: Ian/Amita
Rating: R
Spoilers: Series
Summary: Amita goes to teach at Quantico and discovers a familiar face is there as well
Notes/Warnings: Read the disclaimer on my LJ


It's two years after the divorce when Amita steps off the plane in Virginia.

Quantico has finally recognized her talents as more than just Charlie's sidekick so even though she'd rather be spending her summer in Europe, the chance to train a bevy of mathematicians in her theories is just too much to pass up. She's heady, full of herself, ready to take on the FBI.

And then she spies her name on a card in the crowd of those waiting.

She should relax, happy that the Bureau sent someone to pick her up, only she recognizes the man holding the card and all the breath is sucked from her lungs.

It's Ian.

The same Ian she had explicit sexual dreams about during her honeymoon with Charlie. The one man she's ever felt both drawn to and afraid of. And now he's here. For her. And she's single. She swallows hard and wills her now wobbly legs to move forward.

"Amita."

"Ian."

He stuffs the card into a nearby recycle bin and wordlessly takes her two large suitcases, leaving her with her carry-on and purse.

"Car's close," he says as he heads out of the terminal, apparently just expecting her to follow. "One of the benefits of a badge around here."

She's settled into the passenger seat of a black SUV with her bags tucked into the back before Ian takes a moment to turn in his seat and appraise her from top to bottom.

"Europe's been good to you," he decides. "Like the haircut."

"Thanks."

He reaches over and flips the curled end of her just past the chin length bob in a way that would be playful if it were anyone other than a sniper with a laser sharp gaze. The smirk on his lips invites a reaction yet she forces herself not to let him see her affected.

She's still tense, rigid as a bone, once the moment passes and he busies himself with starting the car and pulling into traffic. His finger hadn't even grazed her skin when he reached for her hair, but something about it being so near – his touch, Ian's touch – had set her blood to racing and even now she can't will her heart to slow down.

"You apparently scored some decent housing," Ian says, expertly maneuvering through the chaos of airport traffic with an ease that reminds her that this man has seen combat, taken lives, lived in war zones. Virginia's a cakewalk by comparison. "Not many people get a bungalow."

"Bungalow?" She seems to be reduced to one word sentences, uncertain enough of her flimsy grasp on sanity to risk more. She imagines she'll blurt out something totally inappropriate and be so mortified she has to leave Quantico before she's even begun her consulting stint.

"Yeah, there are about a dozen small houses on base the FBI has reserved for VIPs who, for the most part, aren't with the military yet are on base for extended visits." He turns to flash a smile at her, all viper and apple with that hint of carnal knowledge hovering behind his snake eyes. "I live there myself when I'm teaching at the academy... Like now."

As Ian turns back to traffic, Amita forgets to breathe. Ian picking her up from the airport is one thing, but teaching beside him all summer? She closes her eyes, searches her depths for any self-control, anything that can help her keep it together.

"Tired?" When she doesn't answer right away, Ian continues and she can hear the understanding in his voice even if her eyes are closed against the sight of him. "It is a long flight. I remember. Been a while since I was over there though. Germany, I think. Yeah, Rammstein two years back."

"Yeah, pretty wiped," she manages to agree somehow. She makes a show of settling further into her seat as if she's falling asleep. It works or rather at least it stops Ian from talking.

It buys her about fifteen minutes; they had to get to the base at some point, it's unavoidable.

"'Mita…" He nudges her and Amita's eyes fly open, half at the shock of his hand on her arm – and suddenly she's glad she didn't take off her sweater on arrival – and half at the use of the shortened pet name Ian's made by dropping the first letter of her name. "We're here."

She blinks, taking a few seconds to orient herself as if waking only she needs it more to get herself back to functional.

"Thanks," she mutters.

And then he's out of the car and carrying her bags up to what appears to be a cute little white cottage with a blue door. It's painfully normal looking – like it dropped out of the sky from suburbia – except for the utilitarian military warehouses in the distance behind it and the pair of fighter jets that are passing over at that moment.

Ian unlocks the door then holds up the key for her patiently waiting for her to come take it from his hand.

"Welcome to your home away from… Well, wherever you call home base these days."

He gestures her inside and follows her, carrying in both her suitcases which he leaves just inside the door.

Just checking out the little bungalow distracts her for a few seconds. It may be small but it's nicely furnished with a full kitchen and a good sized television in the living room.

"It's… nice…"

"They're not bad," Ian agrees. "I'd prefer a little more water pressure and a gas stove instead of electric, but it's way better than eating MREs in the Afghani desert for months on end." She puts her carry-on and purse down on a nearby chair and stands there, feeling both useless and awkward. "Agent Polawsky will be here to take you to lunch at 1:30. She'll be your contact here on base – the one to take care of whatever you need."

Need… She catches a glimmer of a memory of a dream – hot frenetic sex, breathless and sweaty, Ian's feral teeth grazing her nipple, his thick cock pressing inside her, so tight, filling her… She blinks herself back to find Ian waiting for her response.

"What about dinner?" Some part of her brain must be engaged because she's realized she's brought no food and the kitchen is likely to be empty.

A wolfish grin is her answer and she swallows hard, tense all over again only this time her skin is flushed warm and buzzing with electric want so badly she can't turn it off.

"Agent Polawsky will show you how to requisition a car to go off base to go shopping, but for tonight? I'm cooking." Ian pulls a card out of his shirt pocket and leaves it on the table. There's a crisp snap of a sound when he places it there, as if he's dealt a playing card, and she envisions this as his purloined ace in the hole. "Give me a call when you get hungry."

He walks out without another word, closing the front door behind him.

Amita practically runs to it to lock it, pressing her back up against it as if barring the door against his return. She gulps in frantic breaths as if there's not enough air, dizzy as she is with her rapidly rising desire.

She's no longer with Charlie, but a flush of guilt rushes through her for all the times she fantasized about Ian when they were married. Still, it was easier before. She only had to fend off the memory of him, the fantasy she built in her head, not the real man.

Now the very much living, breathing and intoxicating sniper has her in his crosshairs.

She can't do this. She can't take the bait, let him have her.

And yet she can't imagine how she won't.

=
 
 
 
Emma DeMaraisemmademarais on March 6th, 2016 10:40 pm (UTC)
Confession
A new series? Srsly? Well, I hope so. /crosses fingers/

This fic came out of a slashchat bunny midwifed by swingandswirl who urged me to move forward with this Ian/Amita seduction. I tried to write it all at first, but it sat stubbornly at this length. I think it's supposed to be the first installment in a series of flash fic length vignettes a la NOO, thus making it a series, however I cannot guarantee forward motion past this given my track record of the last couple of years.

Interestingly, the whole reason I haven't posted a lot of fic for years is because I went back to school. I actually am going to graduate from grad school this May, so I am curious to see what happens to the muse when I'm not writing academic papers all the time.

Of course I’m not done with school in May – just one degree. I've got two more summers to go for my second Masters and then there's the whole PhD thing… /sigh/ So yeah, here's hoping that I get to write again on a more regular basis soon. I miss it and my LJ friends. /hugs/

Thanks,

Emma DeMarais
ladygray99ladygray99 on March 6th, 2016 11:16 pm (UTC)
Woohoo. More Emma fic! Can't wait to see what you do with thIs.
numberbiscuit: donnumberbiscuit on March 7th, 2016 07:16 pm (UTC)
Nice! I like the way you characterised Ian here. He seems a lot like he is on the show. I can definitely buy it that Amita fantasises about him ;P

Aside from that, this was a really nice start, and if you do write more, I'll happily devour it!
irena_adler: Amitairena_adler on March 8th, 2016 08:41 am (UTC)
Ooh, Amita you naughty girl. Now that being married isn't going to protect you from your fantasies, you might actually have to follow through and see if the fantasies match up to reality. I think that you might be in a bit over your head...
Candi: Twinkle Lightsmustangcandi on March 10th, 2016 12:50 am (UTC)
Excellent! Love the seduction play and the setup for this. Very nice. :) Always good to read you.
riverotter1951riverotter1951 on March 23rd, 2016 11:39 pm (UTC)
This is an excellent start. I like the back story and the format as well.