Chinese Fire Drill

Chinese Fire Drill A.R. Moler Bureaucracy sucked. John Benchley, director of SIS, followed Evan Garrett, his second in command and partner in so many ways, through the parking garage in the direction of the agency H2. He threaded his fingers through short dark hair. He had just spent five hours in an excruciating meeting with the top brass that he answered to. A Torquere Press Menage Sip - 1

SIS, Special Investigative Services, was an almost microscopically small agency by federal government standards. They had only half a dozen active staff members and a few people they actively liaised with for support. SIS dealt with those cases so far outside of the box of conventional reality, it almost defied comprehension. In the past few years, they had dealt with demons, vampires, werewolves, possessions, and ghosts. All carefully scraped under the carpet, away from public knowledge. “You realize we were supposed to pick up Gabrielle about half an hour ago,” said Evan, unlocking the dark blue H2. “Yeah, I know. I sent her a text as the meeting was ending. She said it was okay; she had paperwork to finish,” replied John. Dr. Gabrielle Dichenz was both colleague and lover to John and Evan, an adored third piece to the chaos that ran their lives. She worked for the FBI, most of the time, but also had heavy ties to SIS and Division P. Division P was a government organization that provided psychic operatives of many different talents to other agencies. Both men climbed into the H2 and left the parking garage, heading halfway across Washington, D.C. to meet Gabrielle. It was 5:45. John slouched against the passenger side door, eyes closed, as Evan drove. “Getting a migraine?” asked Evan. “Hmm? No, just tired. And trying to sort out exactly how I’m supposed to construct some sort of operations manual for this satellite branch they want to get off the ground in Boston. Christ, this is going to take forever.” He ran his hand down over his face and then proceeded to yank the knot from his tie, leaving the strip of silk dangling around his neck. He popped the top two buttons of his shirt open and felt less like he was being metaphorically choked by the system. *** John saw Gabrielle was sitting on the edge of a concrete planter at the side entrance of her office building when the H2 pulled up. She was wearing a highly tailored navy blue skirt suit and heels. Her shoulder-length dark hair was tucked behind one ear as she listened to voicemail on her cellphone, and her fingers toyed with the strap of the briefcase that lay at her feet. John slid out the passenger side door and held out a hand to her. She smiled and walked into his open arms. His mouth descended on hers and he kissed her passionately. “Good day?” he asked, as he finally lifted his mouth from hers. “So-so.” “I see you’re doing the power suit thing today, so I’m guessing you didn’t spend the whole day in the lab.” He eyed the way the conservative cut of her clothes hid the nice curves and long, lean muscles of her body.

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***

“Couple hours in the lab, but then there was an interrogation, followed by an absolutely exciting meeting, and then a lab report to get done,” she griped. “Sounds like your day was more thrilling than mine.” He grinned. “You ride up front, I need to look at some notes on my laptop,” he said. She stood at the open door of the H2 and started to lift her leg to climb in. She wasn’t short by any means, at 5’8”, but even with the kick pleat in the back of her tailored skirt, she wasn’t going to be able to get her leg up high enough to manage the high step up into the SUV. “Um, John?” she said. “Yeah?” He had reached to pull open the back door. “I can’t get in.” “Huh?” he gave her a quizzical look. “The step’s too high and my skirt’s too narrow.” John blinked as it took him a second to actually understand the problem. He scooped her up and eased her into the elevated seat, minus a shoe. He retrieved it and bent to slip it on her hose-clad foot. She was amused. “Going for the Prince Charming effect?” she teased. He was breathtakingly gorgeous. Dark, straight hair cut not quite military-short, straight nose, luscious lips, blue eyes, six feet tall, and well muscled, and she was so attached to him. He looked up at her and a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Does that make you Cinderella?” “Only if you count the fact I had to clean out the aspirator on my flame AA today.” “Close enough.” He laughed and climbed into the back seat. “Were ashes and a fireplace involved?” asked Evan. “No, just a burner head and a piece of titanium wire.” She smiled and leaned across the center console for a quick kiss from Evan. As they pulled away and headed toward the beltway, Gabrielle twisted in her seat to look at Evan, the other man in her life. Light brown, curly hair, just long enough to brush his collar, green eyes, an easy smile, and a nose that up tilted just a little at the tip. An objective eye would have probably declared him cute. She cared for him every bit as much as she did John. ***

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They made it perhaps five miles around 495 toward the Crystal City exit where SIS was located before they hit a massive traffic jam. Evan slowed the H2 to a crawl that soon turned into a dead stop. “Any sign of what’s causing this disaster?” she asked. Evan tipped his head sideways trying to get a better look through the line of cars. “Nope. Could be anything from somebody with a flat tire to a ten car pile-up,” he replied. “And you rag on me for my addiction to the metro system. Twenty minutes packed in a subway car pretending to be a sardine beats this.” He picked up her hand from where it lay on the center console and stuck her fingers in his mouth, sucking on them for a moment. “Nah, you taste a lot better than a sardine.” She felt her face flush with heat at his comment. “Not fishy at all.” He ran his tongue up her palm. At the same time she could feel his presence brushing against her psychic shielding. His psi talents ran more to the empathic side and hers toward the telepathic. He was obviously trying to gauge just how much of an effect he was having on her, besides the embarrassment factor. Her breath hitched. He pulled her hand away from his mouth and rubbed his thumb across the nowdamp center of her palm, and was rewarded by a distinct increase in her pulse rate. She knew he was well aware of how much of a turn-on that little physical action was for her. *** He pushed up the sleeve of her blazer a couple of inches and bit lightly on the inside of her wrist. Sucking on the skin there, worrying at her flesh with soft pressure, he watched her eyes. Her pupils dilated. He pulled away from her wrist and glanced at the spot where his lips and teeth had been. She loved the fact that Evan wasn’t afraid to show just a little aggression in his passion for her. After literally rescuing her from the hands of her abusive former lover, John sometimes treated her as if he thought she would shatter at the smallest thing. “Oops, that might leave a mark.” Evan grinned a little and she smacked him lightly on the side of the head. He mimed being mortally wounded. “You know I’m actually trying to get some work done back here,” John snarked from the back seat, “And the two of you are being a distraction.” The soft clicking from the laptop’s keyboard was just audible. “You’re just feeling left out,” said Evan. “That, too.” “I could come back there and remedy that.”

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“I wish,” said John. “You two do realize we are sitting in traffic in broad daylight,” Gabrielle began. “It’s not broad daylight. It’s almost dusk,” argued Evan. “And we haven’t moved an inch in the past ten minutes.” Gabrielle rolled her eyes. She could almost see where this was leading. They hadn’t had much together time in the past week. Three psi with insufficient touch time tended to lead to lots of naked flesh in bed together. Sometimes a bed wasn’t involved. “I am so not getting arrested for indecent exposure on the beltway,” said Gabrielle. “Then you’re driving,” said Evan opening the driver’s door. “Yo! You better be planning on helping me get in that seat. Christ, we look like couple of high school kids trying to have a Chinese fire drill,” Gabrielle shouted as he slid out. Cursing under her breath, Gabrielle got out of the H2 and stalked around to the driver’s side. Evan lifted her up into the seat with an evil grin on his face. She huffed out a sigh of exasperation as he climbed into the back seat with John. John was hastily shutting down the laptop. If she were lucky, they’d grope each other a little and wait till they all got back to the SIS building for the rest. She was never that lucky. She stared at the dead-still traffic. In the back, she could hear soft gasps and groans. She glanced back. It wasn’t like she hadn’t ever seen them making out with each other. It was actually pretty hot. *** Evan had John pinned into the seat sideways, back against the door, kissing him. Evan was only a scant inch shorter than John and their height made for an awkward tangle of arms and legs as they slid down the upholstery. After a couple of minutes of frantic kissing and groping, Evan was tugging at John’s belt, undoing it and the fly of his pants. Evan slid his hand inside his lover’s briefs, stroking the rapidly hardening length trapped inside the fabric. “Tip the seat back,” Evan muttered against John’s mouth. John had to feel down the side of the seat for a moment to find the release. He pulled the lever and promptly let out a yelp as the seat plunged back faster than he was anticipating. Of course, the fact that Evan was halfway in his lap had probably contributed. It took another moment to lift up a little so that Evan could shove his pants and underwear down a few inches. Getting buck naked in the SUV was probably not a good idea. John let out a moan as Evan’s tongue lapped across the tip of his erection. Evan sprawled across the seat, butt against the door, and face in John’s lap. Anybody tall enough to see clearly in the window wouldn’t have to guess too hard at what was going on, even if there wasn’t a whole lot of skin showing.

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John bucked against the wet heat of Evan’s mouth. This wasn’t going to be a long, slow event if Evan had anything to do with it. Oh, fuck, the sensation was drawing throaty little moans from him and it took both hands clenched into the leather of the seat not to grab the back of Evan’s head. He could also feel Evan’s mind caressing his psychic shields. He willingly dropped the shielding he normally kept up in full force. John’s psi talents tended to run more telepathic, like Gabrielle’s, but were far more erratic and not as strong as hers. His own raw desire wove with Evan’s, heightening the feelings. He squirmed in the seat as Evan’s head bobbed and his hand stroked. John came with a harsh groan and Evan sucked him dry. Gasping for breath, John flung an arm across his eyes. His pulse was pounding loudly in his ears. Eventually, Evan tugged at his arm. “You still conscious?” he quipped. “Oh, God. Yeah, I think so,” John replied slowly. He fumbled his pants back up his waist and managed to get the belt done up. “Gimme a minute, I’ll consider returning the favor.” He smirked. “Actually, I have other ideas,” said Evan. He jerked a thumb in the direction of the front seat. Gabrielle had the heel of her hand pressed to her forehead. Her face was flushed. Evan reached a hand around the headrest and ran his fingertips down her throat. “Eavesdropping’s a bitch when you can’t touch,” he whispered. *** Gabrielle nodded a little, struggling to draw an even breath. She had let her own shielding fall while her two guys were going at it in the back seat. When they were all having sex together, there were no shields among them. It was part of the whole trust thing, not to mention the way it intensified the experience. Her guys. It floored her just a little that she thought of them that way now. Tuning in on the events of the past few minutes had been so hot, it had her pulse racing. She could feel the throb between her legs. She wanted to be a part of what they were doing. She wanted hands on her skin. Evan’s touch was a shimmy of electricity down her neck. John’s hand slid through the gap between the front seats, curling around her ribcage. A couple of fingers pulled her shirt loose from the waistband of her skirt and skimmed across her stomach. She gulped in a shallow breath. “You could trade places with me,” John whispered. “I can’t. This is insane,” her mouth protested. Her body had other ideas.

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“I’ll drive,” said John. He scrambled over Evan’s legs and scooted out the door to trade places with Gabrielle. He caught her by the hips as she slid from the seat and eased to the ground. “Have fun. I’ll be the one watching this time,” he murmured in her ear as he helped her into the back seat and shut the door. Evan gave her a completely lecherous smile as she turned to face him. He lay back on the seat that John had tipped back and pulled her over on top of him. “You have on too many clothes,” he said. She was stretched out on top of him, feeling the hardness of his arousal pressed into her belly as he drew her into a long, heated kiss, pressing his tongue between her teeth to open her mouth. His hands systematically scrunched the hem of her skirt from its usual place just above her knees to a crumpled mass around her waist. Then he encountered the pantyhose. After three tries to find the waistband and lever it down over her hips, he growled in frustration. “Damn, Gabrielle, how do you get them off? Going for the chastity belt effect?” He grunted as he stopped fighting with the elastic. “When I got dressed this morning, I didn't plan for being bad in the back of the SUV in mind,” she said, and giggled uncontrollably. “I’d offer to help,” said John from the front seat, “But that would entail getting out again.” “We’ll manage,” replied Evan. Gabrielle slid off and over into the other seat that was still upright. She kicked off her shoes and pressed both feet against the carpet so she could lift her behind and shove the upper part of her pantyhose down over her butt. “I must be out of my freakin’ mind,” she muttered. “This is insane. I’m gonna get arrested.” Evan had sat up on the other seat, reaching out to help her strip her hose off the rest of the way. “A garter belt would make life easier…” he suggested. She gnashed her teeth at him. “Tried one of those stupid things. The stretchy bits that hold up the hose about drove me crazy. No way.” Pantyhose now flung on the floor, Evan’s hand pressed between her thighs and she squirmed as his fingers stroked against the damp blue cotton of her underwear. He was kissing her again, sucking softly at her mouth, nibbling on her lower lip. She spread her legs a little, scooting down in the seat to allow his hand better access. *** Evan slid an arm behind her body, pulling her closer to him. His tongue was slowly exploring her mouth while his hand sought heat lower down. He slipped his fingers inside the leg opening of her undies and traced down along the coarse curls until he could feel the wet folds of her body. It was all slick swollen heat, so wet she was almost soaking her underwear. He stroked a couple of fingers through the dampness, teasing at the nub in the front. She gasped and bucked against his fingers, her body trying to increase the friction. He continued, fingers curling and

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rubbing, pressing into her as she skidded further down in the seat. Judging from the tension he could feel emanating from her and the low breathless sounds she was making, she was already getting close to a climax. Then he stopped, pulling his hand away. Her eyes flew open and glared at him, her gaze a heady mix of annoyance and lust. “Fuck you, Evan Garrett, if you don’t finish what you started,” she snarled at him in a heavy whisper. “Actually, I intend to fuck you into the seat,” he replied as he pulled her sideways across the gap between the seats and pushed her back in the reclined one on the other side. He yanked his belt loose and shoved his pants and briefs down, freeing his erection. Her panties joined the hose on the floor and he stretched out on top. It was an awkward angle, given the length of his legs and the passenger seat behind him, but… He was devouring her mouth as he pushed into her. Her thighs hugged around his hips and her hands clenched into his back. It was a couple of minutes of hard, breathy rutting. Her head smacked back into the edge of the seat as the orgasm tore through her body, her muscles contracting in hard waves around him, and he willingly followed her over the edge. Evan sagged down on top of her, gulping air waiting for his pulse to slow to something less than a roar. The blast of a car horn yanked him brutally back to awareness. “Oh, shit, guess I ought to pay attention to the road,” said John. One hand was on the steering wheel, but the other was rubbing against his crotch. The fabric was beginning to bulge a little. He had obviously been metaphorically eavesdropping on his lovers every bit as much as Gabrielle had. Traffic was beginning to move. John slammed the H2 into gear and pulled forward. In the back, Evan was still sprawled on top of Gabrielle. He twisted sideways, hanging over the edge of the seat and groping one-handedly into the back cargo space that was cluttered with equipment. “What the hell are you doing?” muttered Gabrielle. “Bingo,” he replied. “Say what?” He waved a box of wet wipes that he had managed to grab. “Oh… Those would actually be helpful,” she said. Evan did usually tend to think along practical lines, although she wasn’t sure a quickie during a traffic jam remotely qualified as “practical.” The two of them did a hasty clean up of sorts and pulled their clothing back into place as John drove them all toward the SIS building where he and Evan lived. “That was the most enjoyable traffic jam I’ve experience in a long, long time,” said John.

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“You two are worse than a couple of teenagers,” said Gabrielle. “Words from the woman with her feet in the air,” taunted Evan. Gabrielle punched him in the shoulder.

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Chinese Fire Drill Copyright © 2008 by AR Moler All rights reserved. No part of this eBook may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. For information address Torquere Press, Inc., PO Box 2545, Round Rock, TX 78680 Printed in the United States of America. Torquere Press, Inc.: Sips electronic edition / September 2008 Torquere Press eBooks are published by Torquere Press, Inc., PO Box 2545, Round Rock, TX 78680

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