Hey, remember the three 'fics I'll never write about meme' Funny thing...

Title: Gobsmocked
Fandom: Life
Pairing: Crews/Reese
Rating: PG-13
Prompt: Charlie and Dani do second base
Disclaimer: Not mine, although I covet Reese's jacket. Also, Un-beta'd.



Charlie didn't know how it happened-- well, he did. They were on a stakeout, same old story, chapter and verse. Except he was in the car far longer than he liked and when he closed his eyes he was suddenly not there.

Darkness was darkness was darkness was--

"Crews, you alright?"

He opened his eyes and found Reese looking at him. Her eyebrows were knit together it took a moment for Charlie to place her expression: concerned, careful as if she expected he'd do something crazy like write on walls.

Charlie grinned, the wide grin that staved off further questions and usually earned him a huff of frustration, especially from Reese but that was 10 homicide cases ago. Reese was still watching him. "I'm going in."

"What?"

"He's been there a while, Reese, I'll slip in and get a look then I'm back here ten minutes tops." He removed his badge, clip and gun and was out the car before Reese could shut him down. He leaned down, grinned again. "And this time I really do mean, ten minutes."

He didn't wink this time, he felt if he did Reese would reach out and throttle him.

So he remembered that, his fuzzy logic, the how he got from Reese's quiet car to the thrumming, bouncing club-- the first time he visited a club he'd been overwhelmed by everything, the sound, the people casually jostling each other. He'd almost reached for his phone and called Constance until a redhead with a sultry wink changed his mind.

Charlie positioned himself where he could easily see both exits, a feat considering the number of people bumping around. It was easy to spot their latest suspect . All Charlie had to do was look at the most ostentatious, noisy crowd and he found his man. Vasquez. Arturo Vasquez migrated from Peru to Los Angeles four years ago, suspected ties to a drug cartel and current suspect in the murder of an 18 year old boy.

Vasquez sat at the center with women on either side, laughing and carousing.

His attention was momentarily diverted when two women made a beeline for him. "Hey, aren't you that Crews guy?"

Charlie glanced at Vasquez, still regaling his minions with some story and smiled. "Maybe."

"You are!" One of the girls, a blond, giggled. "I saw your picture on the TV! You're a lot prettier in person."

Someone occupied the stool to his right. "Thank you."

"Hey, want to join us?" The other girl, also blond but with streaks of purple in her hair, raised a bottle of champagne, "We could party..." Her smile promised other things besides champagne bottles.

His smile turned into a full fledged grin. "Maybe later."

"Are you sure?" She shook the bottle in front of his face, "It's going to be quite the party."

Charlie was tempted, very tempted but he let the moment go on a second longer, letting the temptation pass. "I'm sure."

The girls hooked arms, "We'll just be in the lounge if you change your mind." And then they sashayed away, Charlie grinned as he watched them walk away arm in arm.

"Anyone ever tell you, " the person beside him began, "you suck at undercover?"

He turned in surprise and delight, "Reese!"

She was facing away from him, looking at him through the mirror behind the bar, her hair was down and even though she still had her jacket on, she could have been any woman nursing a drink. Charlie glanced at the bar but she had her hands clasped together, like she didn't trust her hands if she let them go. Reese swiveled on her stool and looked at Charlie with an annoyed scowl. "Go on, shout it a little louder I don't think Vasquez heard you."

"Ten minutes isn't up yet, Reese--"

"--and you've managed to blow your cover in less time than that."

"Not really."

"Yes," Reese said, firm, "really."

Charlie thought about it.

"Have you looked around, Crews?" Reese asked, she leaned back against the bar, her hair brushed the bar. Charlie didn't often see his partner like this and it almost always startled him. Charlie followed her nod, some of the women near them were giving him a cursory once over. He couldn't help smile again. "In case you've forgotten, your name and picture was plastered everywhere not too long ago. That makes you a minor celebrity," the way she said the word told Charlie everything he needed to know about Reese's opinions on celebrities, "and you're a minor celebrity with a pile of money, meaning every gold digging, adventure seeking girl in the know would have your name tattooed on their brain. Meaning you and undercover? Suck."

"That's painful." Charlie remarked, "Tattooing your brain, tattoo on skin is painful enough. My--"

He never really finished his sentence, and this was where all the confusion sprang from. Maybe he should have been paying more attention, more present but he wasn't and the next thing he knew Reese grabbed the lapels of his suit, slid off from her stool and pulled them off to a corner, nearer to the exit.

"Shut-up." She growled.

He did but he tried to crane his head, trying to look for the reason of Reese's alarm.

"Oh, for --" Charlie never got a chance to look, he didn't even get a chance to think. There were a thousand things and nothing rushing through his head but mostly it all boiled down to sensation and surprise.

Reese was kissing him.

His mind whirled and snarled, if he thought about it at all, if he allowed the fleeting, stray thought to progress this far... it still wouldn't be anything like this.

Her lips were soft but in no means did that signify gentle. Even here, Reese dictated the pace, hands still curled around his lapel, drawing him closer and down. Charlie fumbled, unsure what to do but let instinct guide his arms, coming up and around, he wanted to pull her up to him but Reese made another sound, angry and it rumbled pleasantly against his mouth and it took another second before he realized Reese had growled at him again. He smiled against her mouth.

The hold on his lapels eased and Charlie could feel her hands slide over him, she was about to let go and Charlie decided he didn't want that, not yet and deepened the kiss. He could tell he surprised her. Her fingers flexed against his chest and he pulled her closer, hands flowing up to her hair. Her glorious, magnificent hair, tangling his fingers around each strand.

Cool, quick hands slipped up and under his shirt and he shivered when her cool hands slid up his chest, on his back and down to his belt, past it and--

Reese suddenly pushed him away.

He reeled back, dazed. The door to his left slammed shut but not before Charlie saw the last of Vasquez's posse vanish out the door. Reese flipped something in her hands and he blinked. "That's my phone."

"You don't say." Reese flipped his phone open and turned on the video function and there was Vasquez, on his phone, switching hands with something considerably illegal. "Now we got cause."

Her hands sliding up and down his chest, to his belt...

"You stole my phone." His voice sounded weird, choked and wondered at it.

"I borrowed it." She said tersely. Reese wouldn't look at him, was avoiding looking at him.

She rolled the rubber band off her wrist and collected her hair. Charlie had watched her do this a few times before and he was always fascinated with the process, with how efficient she pulled her hair back and managed to make it all disappear in a knot but now Charlie could remember the feel of her hair in his arms, in his hands. His fingers tingled with the remembered sensation. Sensation, his Zen tape said, was an important part of the human experience.

"Reese."

In a few seconds it was the same Detective Reese he's always known staring back at him. "C'mon, we got a suspect to apprehend."

"Reese." He repeated. She looked at him, or actually she looked past his head and in the dim lights it was hard to discern what her expression meant or if she had any beyond a scowl. "Can I get my phone back?"

She blinked at him then passed the phone to him and was, again, surprised when she took another thing out of her pocket. His badge. "Figured you'd need this."

"I kinda do." He agreed and clipped his badge on his belt.

"C'mon."

"Hey, Reese."

She had the door open and she rounded on him with a glare, "What?"

The light from the outside illuminated her face. The ever present frown, the fierce expression, Reese was undercover, she had a number of ways and strategies to keep from getting made--

"What Crews?" She snapped. "Clock's ticking."

"Nothing." He said, finally and walked past her into the night.

Vasquez and his posse were hanging around the sidewalk, waiting for the valet to appear with their car. Reese clipped on her badge and placed her hand on her holster. Charlie settled for taking out his cuffs. "Reese."

"Now what?"

One of Vasquez's friends decided to sing a rendition of 'Hey Jude' in Spanish. It wasn't bad. "Do you think I'm pretty?"

She halted to a stop and the expression on her face was priceless.

Charlie grinned. "C'mon, let's go fight crime."


A/N: Apologies for the delay, I really am quite the slow writer. Also, I'm pretty crap at titles.