Bump by Cyclone
Summary: His hands hadnít really meant to land where they did.
Categories: Fanfiction Characters: None
Genres: Fluff & Slush
Warnings: None
Challenges: None
Series: None
Chapters: 1 Completed: No Word count: 574 Read: 837 Published: October 04, 2005 Updated: October 04, 2005

1. 1 by Cyclone

1 by Cyclone
Title: Bump
Author: Cyclone
Rating: PG
Summary: His hands hadn’t really meant to land where they did.
Disclaimer: I just be playing with them.
Notes: A little ficlet for Mercscilla, who needed fluffy bump fic to restore her faith in innocent bumping.

XxX

His hands hadn’t really meant to land where they did. It was just the unlucky result of the awkward fumbling and bungling from a few moments earlier. Really. It was purely accidental. The fact that they were still attached and blatantly exploring several places that they should not, under any circumstances, be exploring at all – well, he couldn’t be held responsible for what his hands did on their own accord, without pre-approval from his brain.

“John?”

If his brain hadn’t gone out to lunch the moment the unfortunate incident occurred it would have censured them. Severely. This kind of behaviour was unacceptable. Period. No ifs or buts about it. However – and however wasn’t a ‘but’ – since his brain had left the building and his insubordinate hands were happily and eagerly betraying him, he didn’t think he should be held accountable.

“Major?”

And quite frankly, if Elizabeth had only watched where she was going, none of this would be happening.

“Major!”

Yep, this could all be traced back to her. She was the one who hadn’t been paying attention to where she was going. She was the one who’d careened right into him. She was the one who’d almost pulled them both over. And she was the one who in order to stop them both falling, had grabbed him first. In the right light, this could all be construed as her fault.

“Yeah?”

“I don’t think either of us is in any danger of falling now.”

She was smiling at him. Why was she still smiling at him when . . . well, just why? It was that goofy and apologetic smile of hers as she’d crashed into him that had made his hands so . . . grabby in the first place, and this new smile she was wearing wasn’t helping matters either. “We seem to be steady,” he noted.

“Then perhaps you could remove your hand from my breast?”

“Right.” He could do that. He didn’t want to do that, be he would do that. Because really, no matter how much it wanted to take up permanent residence, it didn’t belong there.

“And your other hand from my butt?”

Well, there went his right hands idea of joining the left hand for a bit of fun. “Sorry,” he apologised, dropping his arms to his side.

“And now we can both get back to work.”

“Right.” Work. He was sure that he could find something in the city that required his attention. Preferably something that didn’t actually require a lot of intellect becuase he had a feeling that once his AWOL brain returned it would be preoccupied by thoughts of soft curves, goofy smiles and grabby hands.

“John?”

“Yeah?”

“Preferably today.”

“Sorry,” he said again, and waited for her to move. She didn’t, so he cleared his throat. “Er, I can’t actually leave until you . . .”

“Until I what?”

“Let go.”

She released the chunk of butt she’d been working on with yet another smile and sauntered down the corridor.

Oh yeah, he’d definitely be thinking about grabby hands for a while.

End.
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