Title: Coming Back
Fandom: due South
Pairing: Fraser/Thatcher
Rating: NC-17
Length: 1300 words
Summary: Meg comes back from an undercover assignment.
Notes: This is a science fiction AU which is sequel to this little epistolary snippet, so read that first. It's also a present for sage. : ) Ratio of spaceship action to porn is about 1:1.

It fits into the challenge because it's undercover work, I suppose, but it also fits in another way: I discovered recently that I almost always write het sex from the female POV, so here's a het sex scene written from the other side.


"You got the codes?" Ray Vecchio said over the comm. He was from the 27th sector AC system police, leading the squad that usually liaised with the Federal Police for smuggling cases.

"Yes," Fraser said, pulling himself hand over hand over to the airlock of the smuggling ship and plugging a stick into the computer outlet.

They waited, tense and ready, for the endless seconds it took before the airlock cycled open. Meg had gotten them the codes, and she would also have disabled the surveillance. Fraser had absolute trust in his partner--she would've found a way to warn them if something had gotten in her way.

They all pulled themselves into the airlock and punched the button for it to close and equalize the pressure. Fraser found himself fretting, going over the plan in his mind. Boardings were always dangerous, and Meg was alone in there, among crew that were little more than pirates.

Ray Kowalski winked at him through the faceplate of his EVA suit, and Fraser blinked, realizing that he'd been frowning. Ray made a thumbs up as Fraser smiled.

Then the airlock opened into the ship's cargo hold, where likely no crew would be at this moment. They fanned out, stun pistols ready, taking cover among the crates that according to Meg's reports were full of endangered Cetian coral plants.

They encountered the first crewman in the corridor directly outside the hold. Elaine Besbriss shot him from behind, and he dropped without a sound, unconscious. The second one saw them first, and had time to raise a cry before they got her.

Meg had been right that security was lax, though. They got to the bridge without any casualties, but that's where they ran out of luck.

"Damn it!" Vecchio muttered, tugging at the door, which was sealed. They could see the bridge crew on the other side, readying their weapons, and oh, Meg was there, and Fraser was sure his face was betraying him. She held her neutral expression, met his gaze for one brief second, then surreptitiously took the gas capsule from her pocket and broke it.

He could see her holding her breath as the gas started acting on the crew, and then while they began to lose their holds on their guns and sink to the floor in confusion, she took an emergency gas mask from her pocket and put it on.

"Watch it!" shouted Besbriss, on rear guard, and they turned to take down the group of crew coming at them from behind.

***

"I need a shower," Meg muttered as they were nearing the end of their vid meeting with Lieutenant Welsh . She glanced at Fraser, and he could read the unspoken with you in her gaze. He twined his foot with hers outside the scope of the camera.

"The ship was taken in our space," Welsh was saying. "So we're taking custody."

"That's fine," Meg said. "But we're taking care of the cargo, and the crew broke intersystem law. So they're ours to prosecute."

Welsh nodded reluctantly. "Right. Well, it was good working with you."

"Same to you."

They signed off, and Meg breathed out an exaggerated sigh of relief. "At last."

Fraser caught her up in a hug, holding her tight, the better to feel that she was actually there with him. "You're back," he whispered into her neck.

"Mmm. I am so glad to be out of there."

He tensed up a little. "Did anything happen? Something you didn't tell me?"

She shook her head. "No, nothing like that. It was just--tension and boredom, you know? You can't ever let go when you're undercover."

He cupped her head, feeling her tense neck muscles, and kissed her. Her mouth opened easily, but she broke the kiss after only a moment, rubbing his shoulder in apology. "I really do need that shower, okay? Just to wash it all off me."

They took it together, sponging each other off with the limited water allowance a small ship like the Maple Leaf had. He shivered when she drew the sponge down his chest, and he saw her glance down at his erection and smile. Fraser pushed her against the wall of the cubicle and kissed her again, and this time they lingered over the kiss, their damp bodies pressing together, Meg's strong arms pulling him close.

They tumbled from the shower to the bed, and Fraser reveled in her weight on him. They'd tried zero-grav sex a couple of times, but it was really rather frustrating when you kept drifting apart.

They kissed, slow and thorough and with no hurry, rocking against each other. This wasn't the rough adrenaline-fueled sex they often had right after seeing action. After the boarding, they'd been caught up in seeing the cargo and crew taken care of, not to mention all the inevitable bureaucracy, and they were tired.

No, this was about finding each other again, and about Meg finding her way back to herself.

Fraser made a soft urgent noise and shifted her weight off him. He didn't want to come yet.

"Let me?" he said, reaching down between her legs.

"Mmm," Meg said, angling her leg up.

He stroked her, softly, carefully, guided by her murmurs, the way her breathing grew shallow. He loved watching her like this, with her eyes falling closed, vulnerable as she never was on duty. And yet they were partners in this, too.

He cupped the curve of her breast with his other hand, leaned down to suck on the nipple, taking his time. She shifted, her hand brushing against his erection just to feel it, pressing lightly against him.

"Kiss me," she murmured, and he turned his attention from her nipple to her mouth.

"Oh," she said into his mouth, and then she was moaning while the kiss grew deeper. She cupped the back of his head to hold him there while he slowed the stroking of his fingers until she tipped over the edge, coming for what seemed a long time, until the slightest movement of a fingertip made her shudder and twitch.

"Mmmm," she said, incoherent, her eyes still closed. He slid one finger into her, just to feel the throbbing aftermath of her orgasm.

"More," she said, and he gave her another finger.

"No, I mean--" and she rolled over, straddled him, took him in. She sank down on him with a satisfied sigh, and Fraser fell back, overwhelmed by sensation. He didn't have much leverage in this position, but he didn't need it--she rocked against him so sweetly, so perfectly. He reached a sort of plateau of pleasure in the slide of his body against hers, each movement equal and repeated, again and again.

Then Meg jolted him out of it, bending forward to mouth at his neck, her teeth digging in. "I love watching you like this," she murmured. She was all around him, her hair brushing his face, her breasts heavy on his chest. He felt the peak approaching, and held her tight, too tight, as he reached his climax deep inside her.

"Sorry," he said afterwards, rubbing at the marks on her hips.

Meg smiled. "I'm not going to break."

She pulled him close, stroked her hand down his back.

"You're back," he murmured. It was half a question.

"I'm back," she confirmed, and he could feel it in the relaxation of her body.

They lay there, listening to the humming of the ship around them, a tiny point of life and warmth in vastness of space, and they let go together, sinking into sleep.