Disclaimer: Don't own 'em, got no rights to 'em, just like taking them outta the box and playin' with 'em.

Genre: Het. Some explicit M/F action, lots of hints otherwise.

Summary: An answer to LunaDey's challenge on her Het List: Use the words vitamins, brownies, swordfish, corn dog, tornado, and the sentence "Why is there a bra in/on _____________"

Characters: Buck, JD and Casey

Rating: FRM (don't wanna give teens any ideas!)

Buck Wilmington walked into a mess. The apartment he shared with his roommate, JD Dunne, looked like a tornado had gone through it. Setting his luggage down carefully, he retrieved the gun he had packed along with his clothes, in one of the bags. He had just returned from two weeks on a charter boat, trolling for swordfish, with Chris, Vin and Josiah.

Now he feared that he had returned to a crime scene. Had something happened to his friend?

Gun at the ready, he began to search the apartment. He moved through the kitchen, finding a half eaten pan of brownies and a half empty bottle of wine on the table. Brownies and wine? Shaking his head, he continued his search. The kitchen was clear, as was the pantry and the hall. The downstairs bathroom was a mess, but he realized that the clutter was what he had left before his vacation.

That in itself was strange. JD typically cleaned up after him, not letting him forget it for a week or so when he returned from wherever he had gone. The agents of ATF Team Seven were all on downtime after six months of a grueling schedule. Perhaps the kid had gone somewhere after all. He never had quite bought the story that he was just going to spend some time alone with Casey Wells.

He entered his bedroom through the bath, finding it in disarray as well, but only from his whirlwind, last minute packing spree. JD hadn't been in here, either, as attested to by the science experiment on his nightstand that had once been a breakfast burrito.

Returning to the hall, he moved to the stairs, climbing up slowly to the second floor. There were three rooms up there, JD's bedroom, the computer room, and another bathroom.

First the computer room. There were clothes scattered on the floor, but nothing else seemed out of place. Back in the hall, he moved to the bathroom. There was more evidence of foul play there. Towels and wash cloths were strewn over the floor. It even looked as if someone had made a nest with them, in the middle of the floor. There looked like someone had sprayed shaving cream all over the place, too. And. . . cherries? There, on the vanity, was what he remembered as a full jar of maraschino cherries, with only a few left at the bottom. And that wasn't shaving, but whipped, cream. He saw the spray bottle amongst the towels.

A grin came over the mustached agent's face. Maybe not a crime scene after all. . .

Keeping his gun in hand, on the off-chance he was wrong, he crept down the hall. At the end was a slightly opened door. Moving toward it he found it difficult to keep quiet when he heard the sounds coming from inside the room.

"Oh. . . oh. . . oh god. . . Case. . . yeah. . . Casey. . . oh yeah!"

"JD! Oh-oh-oh-oh! JD! Yes. . . oh. . . oh. . .oh. . . yes!"

His grin spreading and adopting an evil glint, Buck peered through the crack. The young couple was on Dunne's bed, the bedding twisted and strewn around them. Both were completely nude, JD poised over Casey, his dark hair plastered to his head with perspiration. Beneath him, the young woman was writhing, moaning and crying out softly as he thrust toward her. Her legs bracketed his hips, wrapped over his back, her ankles crossed against the small of his back. Her hands pressed against his shoulders, her nails digging into his flesh.

"Ow-ow. . . Casey!" He rolled his shoulders to relieve the pain. As he did small, red, half-moons appeared when she moved her hands.

Buck sucked in a breath at the sight of the drops of blood welling up from the quartet of gouges. He'd have to make sure the kid put antiseptic on those places later. And he sure as hell hoped that the younger man had taken his vitamins, otherwise, he was going to need a longer vacation the way they were going at it!

Moving back from the door, he tiptoed back down the hall, down the stairs, and into the living room. Clearing off a chair, he settled in, deciding to wait to announce his arrival home. Locating the remote, he turned on the TV, keeping the volume low. Finding a game, he settled in, yawning as he relaxed in the chair.

From time to time he heard a particularly loud cry or a thump from upstairs. Each time he couldn't help but grin, envisioning what the young couple was doing. His mind, as it typically did, moved easily into the erotic zone.

The game was entering overtime when he heard footsteps running down the upstairs hall. He watched as Casey Wells fairly flew down the stairs, with nothing more than one of JD's dress shirts on. And it was unbuttoned. He grinned; sitting quite still as she hit the bottom of the stairs, all jiggling breasts and well toned flesh.

She hurried into the kitchen, grabbed up the brownie pan and the wine bottle, heading back toward the stairs. She hopped onto the first step when she stopped. Turning, she screamed; the pan and bottle dropping to the floor with muted clunks.

"Now, take it easy, darlin'" Buck said in way of greeting. He stood, moving toward the young woman, his arms outstretched.

"Casey!? What's going on?" The sound of more, heavier, footsteps down the hall and a naked JD Dunne appeared at the top of the stairs, gun at the ready.

Shit. "Take it easy there, ya big stud," he held his hands farther away from his body, hoping the younger man didn't shoot first and ask questions later. He doubted that he'd be around to answer them.

"Bu. . . Buck?" Dunne lowered the weapon, jumping when it accidentally discharged, harmlessly, into the carpet. "Shit!"

"JD!" Casey squealed, running up the stairs. "JD, are you okay?!"

"Fine," he growled with embarrassment. Then, "Buck! What are you doing here?!"

"Well, last I knew, my name's on the lease."

"You know what I mean. What are you doing here, now?"

"Well, it is six-thirty Saturday night. I do believe I told you I'd be rolling in around five."

"Six-thirty?"

"Yep."

"Saturday night?"

"Yep."

"You've. . . uh. . . been here. . ."

"About an hour and a half."

"Oh."

"JD?"

"Yeah?"

"You are gonna pay for the repairs to the carpet."

"Yeah."

"And explain the bullet hole."

"I know."

"And, JD?"

"Yeah?"

"Ya might wanna go get some clothes on."

"Shit!" Grabbing Casey's hand, he led the young woman back down the hall, at a run.

Behind them, Buck Wilmington dissolved into a fit of laughter, staggering over to drop to the chair.

oooooooOOOOOOOooooooo

Buck had slipped into his bedroom, busying himself with unpacking and straightening up the mess he had left behind. He stayed busy until he heard the sound of someone leaving the apartment. Giving it a few more minutes, he wandered out of the bedroom nonchalantly to find a fully dressed JD cleaning up the living room.

"I am sorry about earlier, JD."

"I really don't want to have this conversation right now." He refused to look at the bigger man and his blush was evident across the room.

"Hey, there's nothin' to be embarrassed about, kid."

"Really, Buck, I do not want this right now."

"Look - "

"Buck!"

"Yeah, yeah, okay. I'm gonna fix myself something to eat. Are the corn dogs still in the freezer?" When there was no answer, he shrugged and sighed, heading for the kitchen. Opening the freezer door he frowned. Turning toward the living room he called, "JD?"

"What?!"

"Uh. . . why is there a bra in the freezer?"

The End

Comments
March, 2007