Title: "White Sand"
Author: Rebecca Bradstreet
Rated: R
Archive: Sure.
Summary: John and Becca enjoy the last of their vacation.
Warning: Sex.
Disclaimer/Notes: This is a Profiler/Anita Blake Vampire Hunter Crossover. I don't own John Grant, Bailey Malone, or any other Profiler character. I don't own Rudolph Storr, Jean-Claude or any other Anitaverse character. I do own Rebecca Belinda "Becca" Drake. After all she is just a dragon version of me. I use // for thoughts, and ** as emphasis. This isn't beta'd so all mistakes are my own. ;)
"White Sand"
by Rebecca Bradstreet (c) 2001Resort
Wednesday March 21, 2001John Grant and Becca Drake lounged in beach chairs on the quiet stretch of coast they'd come to for their vacation. Each were tanned, and armed with a tropical drink. John held his while Becca's sat on the table next to her chair. She was wearing a powder blue bikini while he wore some grey swim trunks. Neither spoke for sometime, but occasionally they would hold each other's hand.
"I know Bailey told us, 'You both have some time. Take it, enjoy it, and come on home when you're ready,' but it's just possible we passed 'ready' a while ago," Drake broke the silence with a grin.
"We haven't missed a *single* day of work. We've *just* been using up our vacation time, and our...comp time," Grant smiled, and took another sip of his drink. Becca got up from her beach chair to look down at him.
"We *needed* some time, and we've taken it. We *do* need to go back to Atlanta," she took John's drink out of his hand. He put his arms around her waist, and pulled her down into his lap.
"It isn't like Atlanta is going anywhere," John took his drink back from Becca.
"Yes, Atlanta isn't going anywhere. And, I haven't gotten myself a place to hang my hat there yet," she admitted sheepishly.
"You could stay with me. There isn't a lot of room in my apartment, but I have it, and my cabin in the country," he offered with a grin.
"Why Mr. Grant whatever would the Bureau think of that?" Becca asked in only half pretended shock.
"The Bureau? It doesn't know you're a 4,000 year old dragon why should it know where you're living?" John set his drink aside, and drew her down against his chest.
"I suppose *it* doesn't need to know, but Bailey would. Are we going to walk back in from vacation, and tell him we're living together?" Drake wondered over the sound of Grant's heart beat.
"Becca, he knows how we feel about each other. I think he saw it before we did. He won't even be surprised," John assured her raising her face to his.
"You really want to take me in?" She asked looking into his sky blue eyes.
"I really want to share my *life* with you," he kissed her.
"Oh John. You've already shared so much of your life with me. If you let me into too much more you may never be able to get rid of me," Becca told him her pale eyes very serious.
"And what if I never want to get rid of you?" John kissed her again harder and longer.
"Then I guess living together won't be a problem," Drake grinned, sliding down Grant to land in the sand at his feet. John slid down the beach chair until he was sitting at its end looking down at Becca.
"Would you like some help up?" He asked with a smile.
"If it wouldn't be to much trouble," She answered with a shrug. John stood, and pulled her to her feet.
"No trouble," Grant grinned as he picked Becca up in his arms. Drake clung to him as he carried her up from the beach to their hut.
"For a place that doesn't appear on any of the maps, and looks like a loosely scattered collection of rundown huts this is one very impressive resort," John observed to Becca not for the first time since they'd arrived.
"Why do you think it doesn't appear on any of the maps?" Drake smiled at Grant as he set her down on the bed.
"Undo magical influence is illegal," John narrowed his eyes at Becca.
"If the resort owners, or managers were magically influencing people, and it could be proved it would be illegal. No proof has ever been produced of any magic being done by the owners or staff at this resort in its entire history. Besides some places have certain magical...tendencies of their own. This place encourages people who *need* vacations to come to it, and people who *don't* need vacations to stay away from it. I know I've had about all the vacation I need because I can feel the need to get out of here itching at me. You don't feel even the tiniest itch to go home?" She rubbed her hands along his arms.
"I *didn't* feel the tiniest itch to go home until you agreed to come home with me. There was an agreement to that somewhere in all your questions, right?" He pushed her shoulders down on to the bed.
"Yeah there was an agreement to that in there. The two of us living together under one roof...I'd worry about it except we've already been doing it for weeks," Becca ran her hands over the scars on his chest.
"Living together, eating together, and..." John took off her bikini top, and nibbled her breasts.
"If that's what we're up to now," She kissed her way slowly up his chest.
"That's what we're up to," he whispered huskily in her ear as he slipped off her bikini bottoms.
"Up does seem to be the word," Becca observed impishly as she slipped off John's trunks. He swung her legs up onto the bed laying her out flat on it. Lying flat on the bed, looking into John's eyes, Becca's breath caught in her throat. The love, and wonder, and joy that filled his eyes when John looked at her always took her breath away. He climbed on the bed his movement allowing Becca to breathe again. On the bed so close to her, John was caught by the depths of Becca's eyes, and the feelings in them. He knew she was 4,000 years old, but looking into her eyes he also knew somehow, that she had never loved anyone as much as she loved him.
"You are *beautiful* Becca," John whispered tenderly to her as he climbed over her.
"And you are *amazing* John," Becca smiled running her hand along his jaw before kissing him. They held the kiss a long time, and when they broke that contact they made a greater one. John slid his manhood into her. Becca wrapped herself around him -- pressed herself to him. They began to rock together, slowly at first then faster, and faster.
Becca could feel his skin against hers -- his hair, his scars, and she could feel more than hear his heart beating faster. John breathed in the smell of Becca's hair -- her skin with each pant. Somehow when the moment came they didn't become totally lost in their own pleasure, but felt their own and each other's. Then they were relaxing, sliding apart, and settling into the spaces on the bed they'd staked out as their own over the weeks they'd been together at the resort. John kept an arm around Becca, and she rested her head on his chest.
"We're ready to go home now aren't we?" She asked softly.
"We'll start packing in a bit," he kissed the top of her head, and held her close.