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Perfect Shade of Lipstick

Summary:
"Do you know what makes the best shade of lipstick?" Has nothing to do with the Cullens. 1204741731_red-spangle-lips.jpg picture by Babe7777 Banner made by the wonderfully amazing Emmett_Lover (!) UNDER RECONSTRUCTION! I've been re-working a LOt of it, in my head, so I will be changing things, some major some not so much. I reccomend re-reading once I re post the chapters. (Chapter 1 is new)


Notes:


6. Chapter 6

Rating 0/5   Word Count 1479   Review this Chapter

Coffee

Nick wakes to two very different sensations. One, his head is killing him and two, someone is pulling their fingers through his hair. He stays in his position trying to remember what had happened the night before. A truly compromising thing to do. Details become clearer with each pass of the fingers through his hair.

He remembers her apartment. Everything impeccably clean, nearly all of the furniture white, everything very open and inviting. He remembers discussing the case files with her, her case files. Understanding hit him full in the face. Drinking five beers on an empty stomach equals monster hang over in the morning. But what he remembers next is what jars him into a sitting position.

As if in slow motion he remembers leaning over, grabbing Moira’s face and crushing his lips to hers. But, what really shakes him is that she kissed him back. He remembers the feeling of an explosion as their lips had met. Moira remembers it too. They had kissed and he is still alive. Well, I’ve got something on the other guys who have kissed her. I’m still breathing, he thinks, shocked. After their kiss he can’t remember anything. It was like he had just fallen asleep suddenly, or passed out.

“You needed your sleep. I didn’t want to deprive you of that?” Moira speaks after he thinks through everything that had happened, after she had wiped the hurt off her face from when he jerked back from her hand in his hair.

“Wait. So you knocked me out? You can do that,” Nick said with sleep hanging heavy in his throat. She nods to him as he clears his voice. “Well, I wish you hadn’t. I probably would have passed out soon anyway.”

“I won’t do it again then… If you ask me I will though,” She adds as an after thought. They sit in awkward silence as Nick begins to fully wake up. Shaking off the last of his sleepiness, Nick stands up.

“Sorry about what happened with us last night. I was drunk.” Nick avoids looking at her, staring only at his polished black shoes. Smiling, Moira stands up and walks over to him. Gently she touches his chin and lifts his eyes to meet hers. Bright blue meeting bright green.

“I’m not.”

A bit shocked that he had kissed a vampire, Nick makes a decision. “Well, let’s not have a repeat. We’ll keep everything strictly professional.” Checking his watch, Nick’s eyes widen. “Great, I’m late for work.”

Hiding that she is a bit hurt by Nick wanting to ‘keep things professional’ (she doesn’t know what it is about this human that makes her feel so complex), she plasters on a smile and tells him, “I made you some coffee and eggs already, because humans eat in the morning. I also gathered some clothes for you. And you are welcome to use my shower if you so desire.” Each word is a bit mechanical as it leaves her reddened lips. Nick doesn’t understand her reaction. Doesn’t she want to be professional?, he thinks. But then he remembers that she had said coffee and instantly forgets.

“Oh, silly me! And I will certainly help you get to your office. Faster than a car can.” Moira smiles as she remembers his reaction from last night. After she had blinked them to her apartment Nick had nearly fainted, then nearly thrown up. It was amusing then, but this time she hopes it will upset him. Strictly professional, she scoffs.

“Alright. That sounds good. Thank you.” Nick says as he starts off toward the kitchen. Moira tapping into his mind is disgusted to only find him thinking, coffee, coffee, coffee, coffee, coffee.Humans!, Moira thinks with exasperation. Busying herself, she leaves Nick to get ready.

* * *

Nick decides he needs a shower. He reeks of beer and morning breath. He finds it a bit unnerving to use her shower though. As he enjoys his coffee and eggs, he watches as Moira blinks herself from one place to another doing miscellaneous things. It makes him wonder if she’ll just blink herself into the bathroom. But, he really needs a shower. Twenty minutes after he had woken up he is ready to leave (via blinking, of course).

Nick isn’t exactly excited about using this form of transportation, but he has no other choice, he doesn’t even know where Moira’s apartment is. He could be half way across the country and not even know it. But Moira does live in town; Nick’s mind tends to wander to fabulous impossibilities (a bad habit of his).

“Moira! I’m ready to leave,” he calls out when he can’t find her in the living room. “Where are you?!”

“I’m in my closet! Just come in here! I need your assistance with something. Then we can leave,” Moira’s voice carries, but it doesn’t sound like she raised her voice. A little cautious, Nick walks to Moira’s huge closet. Her ‘closet’ is more like a converted bedroom, the master suite to be exact.

Nicks gut gives an unhappy leap right before he opens the door. He is not disappointed. What Nick sees is definitelynot part of his ‘strictly professional’ attitude. Moira is standing in the center of her overflowing closet wearing nothing but a bra, panties, a garter belt, and thigh high stocking thoroughly attached to the clasps of her garter. She is the picture perfect 1920’s pin-up girl. Nick’s eyes bulge slightly.

“Which should I wear?,” she asks indicating the two dresses in her hands. “The blue one,” she holds forward the Robbins Egg blue, stiff, fitted dress in her right hand. “Or the red one?” She indicates the flowing red garment in her left hand. Nick is a bit surprised to be asked about fashion. He isn’t exactly the best dressed man out there. But the blue dress is sort of pretty to him.

Clearing his voice, “I think you should wear the blue one.” He doesn’t offer any reason as to why she should wear it, but she smiles, nods and snaps her fingers. In a nanosecond she’s wearing the dress. Her hair fixed, complete with a round hat placed crookedly on her head, a piece of tulle (also Robbins Egg blue) covering her eyes. With her shoes on she walks to the mirror hanging along the far left wall. Uncorking her always handy vile she applies blood to her lips as Nick watches in horror.

Yes, it is what you think it is. None of your rules had anything to do with this. Please leave me some semblance of my preferred lifestyle, she thinks to him. She can taste his displeasure, but honestly, she could care lass.

“Come on, you don’t want to be any later,” she says between her teeth as she grabs his arm. With a small flex of her brain, she blinks them to his office.

As they walk through the doors all eyes are on them. Everyone is curious as to why such a beautiful woman is with the detective. Nick walks up to his secretary, Anna. She’s more than a bit jealous to see Nick with another woman. Her hopes of a relationship with him are crushed with a single look from Moira.

“Anything new, Anna?” Nicks voice is impatient and Anna doesn’t want to anger him.

“Y-yes, Mr. Rogers. Another body was found this morning. On the east side of town this time, the address is on your desk. I hope you catch this sick-o.” Her voice is earnest and her head bobs as she speaks. Nick shoots Moira a look that says clearly ‘was that you? It better not have been you’. Moira simply rolls her eyes. Anna notices this and is much too curious for her own good. Moira is getting irritated with the small woman.

“Well, Majes, I do believe we have a crime scene to tend to,” Nick says to Moira. Moira is so relieved that he remembered what he was to call her in public through the drunken haze of his memories from last night. Acting like a gentleman from hundreds of years earlier, Nick raises his arm for Moira to take. Unable to stop herself, she laughs but takes his arm. They walk into the elevators and the moment the doors are shut Moira blinks them to the scene of the most recent vampire killing.