Written by Puck
Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction. The characters belong to their various creators: Buena Vista Television / The Walt Disney Company and The Gargoyles Saga, and they are used without their express knowledge or consent.
Warning: This is a work of adult fan fiction. It contains explicit depictions of sex and adult language, and is intended for mature readers only. If you are under the age of consent, please stop reading now.
* * * * *
"Hush, Andrea," the smartly dressed executive admonished, "and get in here." Dominique grabbed her mate by the wrist and pulled her into the tiny compartment. Pressing the petite woman against the wall, she tugged the door shut and slid the latch home, locking it and illuminating the "occupied" sign. Andrea's heart raced with a sudden, acute feeling of claustrophobia. With both of them now crammed inside, the lavatory of the small jet suddenly seemed just that much smaller.
"What is it, Dominique?" she questioned urgently.
"I want you, Andrea," the redhead purred. "Right here, and right now." She smiled seductively, green eyes twinkling, and pressed her body against the smaller woman's.
Andrea cocked her head to one side and grinned. "You know, Domi, when I'd said it might be fun if we could do it in flight sometime, this isn't exactly what I had in mind."
Dominique smiled wickedly. Slipping her hands to Andrea's waist, she pulled her closer until their hips ground together. "Mm, yes, my love, but just thinking forward to tonight has gotten me all worked up. And you know what happens when you do that to me, pet."
Andrea giggled, her body already warming to her lover's gentle yet insistent touch. She placed her own hands on the taller woman's waist, drawing herself further into the embrace. "You're just insatiable, Dominique."
"Yes, I am," the redhead agreed as she tugged playfully at Andrea's clothing, "but you have to admit you never fail to have fun trying."
"Hmm, too true, Dominique… too true. I suppose I could…" Andrea gasped as one of her lover's hands slid up beneath the dangling hem of her blouse to fondle her breast, but the soft moan of delight that followed was silenced as Dominique's lips met her own. Andrea's eyes fluttered shut as she gave in to the tender assault, the last ounce of her hesitance evaporating as Dominique's delicate fingers slipped beneath her bra to brush teasingly over the sensitive flesh.
"Enough talking, Andrea," Dominique said as she at last broke off the kiss and withdrew her hand. She edged back, wedging herself against the counter, and gently pushed the other woman to her knees. "You know what I want."
Andrea looked up, smirking as Dominique hiked up her tailored skirt to reveal the lacy cuffs of her stockings. Obligingly, Andrea placed her hands to her lover's thighs and assisted her in pushing the bit of clothing aside. Dominique wasn't wearing any panties, but this revelation didn't surprise Andrea in the least. Licking her lips hungrily, she paused a moment to admire the smooth, creamy skin of the redhead's hairless pubic mound, then moved in to plant a gentle kiss on the inside of her lover's bared thigh.
"Yes, that's it, pet. I knew you wouldn't disappoint me." Dominique's voice faded to a whisper as Andrea's kisses traveled slowly upward. She braced herself against the wall, hissing in pleasure as her lover's tongue at last reached the aching center of her need. "Oh, yes," she gasped, her hands moving to caress the blonde's hair. "Keep going."
Andrea needed no vocal encouragement. The taste of her lover's excitement urged her onward, and light, teasing strokes soon gave way to long, sensual ones, alternating with delicate flicks to the other woman's clitoris. Andrea grinned as Dominique's trembling foretold that she was nearing the edge. Moving her hands to the swell of Dominique's hips, she pulled the helpless woman imperceptibly closer and took the swollen nub between her lips to deliver the coup de grâce.
"Oh, Andrea!" Dominique shuddered, clutching at her mate's hair as the world around her dissolved into a blinding white haze of pure, unadulterated pleasure. Andrea drew a final quick breath and then opened her mouth, lapping eagerly as her lover came, unwilling to let so much as a drop of the sweet nectar escape.
When Dominique at last regained her senses, she found Andrea once again standing before her, smiling smugly. "Looks like you owe me one now, Dominique." Andrea leaned in and gave her mate a quick kiss as she began to straighten her clothes. "But don't worry. I'm sure by tonight I can think of something you can do to repay me for my services."
Dominique smirked and let her hands fall once more to Andrea's hips, stopping her as she went to tuck in her blouse. "Why, Andrea, my dear," she said as she pushed the woman's hands away and hooked her thumbs over the waistband of her slacks, "why wait until tonight?"
Andrea giggled as her companion pinned her against the bulkhead. Dominique's emerald eyes had taken on a predatory glint, and Andrea shook her head in amusement at the woman's boldness. "But Domi," she protested weakly as she felt the clasp of her belt come undone, "won't the others start to wonder where we are?"
"Let them wonder," Dominique replied. She undid the single button of Andrea's pants and tugged at the zipper for access, then slid her hand beneath the satiny triangle of fabric that lay underneath to tickle lightly at the soft tuft of tiny curls. "You should know by now that I'm a woman who believes in remitting payment immediately when services are rendered," she said, "especially when they have been performed so exquisitely." Dominique gave a sly smile and inched her fingers lower, earning a whimpering moan from her mate. "You wouldn't want to deny me that, would you, my love?"
Andrea let out a gasping breath as Dominique's nails traced along the periphery of her sex and wrapped her arms around her mate for support. A pair of fingers parted her nether lips to probe inside, making her knees go instantly weak. "No, Madame," she whispered, breathless. "Never…"
* * * * *
Fox looked up from her copy of Blush magazine as Elisa pushed back the curtain and reentered the foreword cabin. "So, how are our winged passengers faring back there, Ms. Liaison Officer?"
Elisa gave a smirk as she returned to her seat. "Still out stone cold. But sunset hasn't arrived in Manhattan yet, so we'll see what happens then. We're flying west so… well… I don't know. Do you suppose gargoyles can become jetlagged?"
Fox shrugged. "I wouldn't know. I've only done this once before, with Broadway, but we made the whole flight at night." She pushed back the sleeve of her tailored track suit and checked her watch. "I guess we'll find out in about an hour."
Elisa nodded absently. "I don't envy them, that's for sure. I'm not a big fan of long plane flights, sure, but I don't know if I could handle the possibility of waking up midway to find myself securely strapped down inside a packing crate."
"Hmm, now there's an image," Fox replied. She chuckled as the dark-haired woman eyed her warily. "Oh, relax, Elisa," she teased, "I'm just kidding."
Elisa continued to stare for a long moment before the grin on Fox's face at last drew a smile to her own. "Sorry," she said. Shaking her head, she ran a hand through her hair and sunk back tiredly against the thickly padded leather seat. "I keep forgetting about that odd sense of humor of yours." She turned to meet Fox's gaze. "And truthfully, I'm still finding it hard to believe that we're escorting two gargoyles to the west coast for an appearance at the first ever national meeting of People for Interspecies Tolerance."
"It's no surprise to me," Fox replied. "Those two are hot right now. Everyone wants to get a piece of them." She reached out across the aisle and patted Elisa on the hand. "Which is why I'm glad you decided to take me up on the offer and come along. With everything that's been going on these days, you never know when an extra pair of eyes may come in handy."
"You want me to work?" Elisa queried. "So this isn't just a chance to get away to the warm and sunny climes of southern California for an all-expenses-paid weekend of fun?" She smiled archly. "Jeez, and I went and bought a new bathing suit and everything."
Fox shook her head and chuckled. "And I'm the one with the odd sense of humor."
Elisa smirked and sat for a long moment, listening to the low drone of the jet's engines. Something was missing, she thought. But what? The feeling kept nagging at her until finally she realized what it was. She'd had an entire conversation with Fox without the unsolicited, sarcastic interjections of a certain human-by-day changeling gargoyle. Elisa slid back into a more upright position and craned her neck to peer over the headrest. The seats behind her were empty. "Hey," she said, turning to Fox again, "what happened to our pair of tagalongs?"
"Ms. Destine and Miss Calhoun?" Fox looked up once more from the magazine she had returned to reading. "Oh, I believe they're keeping themselves entertained." She nodded towards the rear of the cabin, a look of mirthful amusement dancing over her features as Elisa followed her gaze to the glowing red "Occupied" sign near the lavatory door. Fox grinned as the other woman's eyes went wide.
"You don't mean they're both in there…" Elisa could not bring herself to complete the thought.
"Validating each other's Mile High Club passes?" Fox nodded. "Yes ma'am. They sneaked in there right after you left to go check on Broadway and Angela." She gave a chuckle. "I'm sure Dominique had to have known that I'd see them, but I really don't think she cared. Look on the bright side, though, Elisa. At least they took your advice and got a room."
"They've been in there for that long?" Elisa asked, incredulous. "What on earth could they possibly be…" A dull thud interrupted her and the lavatory door rattled in its tracks, causing both women to trade a quizzical glance. After a quiet pause of consideration, Elisa waved her hand dismissively. "You know what, I don't even want to know."
Fox only snickered and turned back to her reading. "Of course," she mused aloud, her eyes never leaving the page, "it would be a shame if that door got stuck."
Elisa smiled. "A crying shame," she agreed.
"It has a nasty habit of jamming up. I've been meaning to tell Owen to have it looked at. You see, there's a little latch that keeps it secure during take-off and landing, and sometimes it just accidentally slips when someone's in there."
"You don't say." Elisa's drummed her fingers on the armrest. "And this latch, it would be at the top…"
"…at the bottom of the door. Yes, interesting."
Fox turned the page of her magazine with a polished fingernail and perused the latest article by the columnist who had interviewed Angela several months before. "Dare you," she said at length. She didn't even need to look up. Out of the corner of her right eye, she spotted the blur of red jacket and blue jeans and knew that Elisa had risen to the challenge.
The smirk that came to her face had spread from ear to ear by the time Elisa returned to her seat, and Fox could only shake her head in wonderment. "Remind me never to underestimate you again, Detective Maza," she said, staving off the urge to dissolve into a fit of giggles.
Elisa settled herself back into the plush seat and acknowledged her traveling companion with a wink and a nod. "Remind me to let them out before nightfall, Mrs. Xanatos."
As the plane flew on westward, chasing the setting sun, both women shared a hearty laugh.
* * *
Continued in "Busman's Holiday" by Madame Destine