On This Rainy Night	  On This Rainy Night by Northerner

  

 >Pre>
 OK, you should probably all know how much I adore the idea of Kowalski
and Francesca as a couple on Due South. Well, I wanted to write something
really intense about them. So what do I decide to do? Write an erotic
story, of course! 

 *shocked gasp* 

 I don't typically do this type of thing, but I want to experiment with
this. Please understand that this is my first time writing ANYTHING of
this sort, and I'm just going by the seat of my pants. I hope you enjoy! 

 Oh, this story takes place after CotW, and the only event from the end of
that which actually happened was Vecchio and Stella getting married and
moving to FLA. 

 I rate this as an NC-17, for sexual content and some swearing. 

 DISCLAIMER: Kowalski, Francesca, all the DS gang belong to people who are
not me, namely Paul Haggis and Alliance Communications. I would love it if
they DID belong to me (especially Kowalski *cough, cough; smile*), but I
am well aware of the fact that they do not, indeed, belong to me in any
way whatsoever. So, since we all agree that I am acquainted with this
fact, let's get on to the story, shall we? 

 On This Rainy Night 

 by Northerner 

 The rain was pouring down outside Frannie's apartment window. She gazed
out at it with poorly veiled animosity. It had some nerve raining on the
one night she had planned to go downtown and go shopping. Fat chance now,
she thought angrily. 

 Turning back into the room, she checked the thermostat, stretched out on
the couch, and tried to think of what to do. 

 She had started renting the apartment shortly after her brother, Ray, had
moved to Florida with his new wife, Stella. As much as Francesca loved her
nieces and nephews, she did not think she could handle them alone. Ray and
she had always managed to present a unified front to their sister's
children, and in the absence of their uncle, the little ones had turned
their attentions on her full force, prompting her to "get her own place,"
as she had told her mother. And despite her ma's protests, Frannie had
moved out to this apartment. 

 Now, on this rainy night, she would have given anything to have something
to do, even if it meant playing with her energy-endowed nieces and
nephews. 

 Finally, Francesca decided she would read. Yes, she thought, a good,
quality book. She stood and went in search of her copy of "Sword of
Desire." 

 But just as she was settling back onto her sofa with it, there was an
urgent knock at the door. 

 This night just keeps getting better and better, Frannie thought dryly.
But she stood and walked to the door. "Who is it?" she called, even as she
peered through the peephole. 

 Her gaze was met by the soaking wet, disheveled form of Stanley Raymond
Kowalski standing outside her door. "It's me, Frannie. Let me in." 

 She unlatched the door and swung it open, watching with disdain as
Kowalski's dripping form sloshed into her living room. "Watch the carpet,
Kowalski, or your ass is grass and I'm the weedwhacker." 

 "I think you mean, 'and I'm the lawnmower,'" he replied, as he stood just
inside her door, arrogantly dripping at her. 

 "Lawnmower, weedwhacker, whatever, same difference," she muttered,
shutting the door and turning on him. He looked absolutely awful, like
he'd walked for miles in the pouring rain. "What the hell happened to
you?" 

 He grimaced. "I thought, 'Hey, why not go visit Frannie on this glorious
night!' What do you THINK happened?" he grumped. "My car broke down and
your's was the nearest place I could get to after leaving it at the
mechanic's." 

 "Why didn't you call a cab?" 

 He looked sheepish for a minute. "I left my wallet back at the station." 

 She rolled her eyes. "Great. So now I'm stuck with you till this blows
over, is that the idea?" 

 "Unless you want to pay for my cab ride?" 

 She shook her head vigorously. "Oh no, Stanley Kowalski. I would never
see that money again, so don't even think about asking." 

 He grinned. "Then I guess you're stuck with me." 

 She fumed for a second, then finally relented. "Oh, fine." she eyed him
up and down, taking in his wet form. "Well, you can't stay in those
clothes all night. Go get out of them." 

 He arched an eyebrow, a smile crooking the corners of his mouth. "Why,
Frannie, I never knew you'd be so forward. But, if you insist," and he
began to pull off his shirt. 

 "No, no, NO!" Frannie grabbed him by the arms, wheeled him around and
steered him bodily towards the small bathroom. "Change in THERE. There're
towels in the cupboard." With that, she slammed the door on him and turned
away, trying desperately to force the blush from her cheeks. 

 When he emerged from the bathroom some time later, she had made coffee
and was sipping a cup on the living room sofa. 

 Kowalski sniffed appreciatively. "Umm, smells good," he moaned longingly.


 Frannie waved a vague gesture in the direction of the kitchen. "It's in
there. Help yourself." 

 She heard him clanking around in the kitchen until he finally reemerged
in the living room, holding a steaming mug of coffee. He was swathed in a
bath towel around his hips, but otherwise, he was totally bare. 

 Frannie tried to suppress the flush she could feel rising in her cheeks,
and desperately fought the catch she could feel forming in her throat.
"So, where did you put your clothes?" she asked innocently, with only a
minor squeak in the beginning which she prayed he hadn't heard. 

 Kowalski lounged back in her Lay-Z-Boy and sipped his coffee. "I hung
them over the shower curtain rod to dry. I figure they should be all right
by morning." 

 She nodded. "Well, you can bunk on the couch for the night. Last time Ray
came to visit he left some clothes with me, and you can borrow some to
sleep in. I think they should fit." She couldn't help but notice the way
the muscles in his arm flexed as he raised and lowered the coffee cup to
and from his lips. Frannie hoped the blush she could feel flooding across
her cheeks was hidden by the steam from her coffee cup. 

 Kowalski nodded. "Thanks, Frannie." He sounded surprisingly sincere, and
when Francesca looked up at him in surprise, she could see something in
his eyes that hadn't been there before. Something...fiery, rather than
just playful. 

 There was an awkward silence for a few seconds before Frannie finally
cleared her throat. "Well, I'm going to get ready for bed now." She stood
up and headed for the kitchen to dump the rest of her coffee, desperate to
get out of the room. It was only 9:27, far too early for her to be going
to bed, but she figured it was a good enough excuse to get out of his line
of sight with those searching, smoky eyes. 

 When she came back out, he had already moved to the couch, poking and
prodding it as if to check it's sturdiness. "Problem?" she asked. 

 Kowalski looked up. "It's a bit bumpy, don't you think?" 

 She rolled her eyes. Only Kowalski, mister I-sleep-on-a-waterbed-I-hurtmy
-back Kowalski, would think her couch was "bumpy." "If I give you extra
pillows, will that make it all better?" He grinned broadly, and she cast
her eyes to heaven in a 'why-me' gesture. "Fine, let me get you some
bedding." She headed to the bathroom and reemerged a minute later carrying
some sheets, a blanket, a pair of jogging shorts Ray had left, and two
spare pillows. Depositing these on the couch, she brushed her hands
together quickly, gave him a brisk salute, and said, "Now I'm going to get
ready for bed." She then stormed off to her room, shut and locked the
door, and leaned against it, letting her breath come in low gasps for a
second. 

 God, she'd never realized what a fox he was! Her mind was filled with
images of his bare arms flexing, his chest gleaming in the dim lamplight,
blue eyes twinkling. The way his spiky blonde hair seemed to shimmer wetly
as he'd move his head. Francesca felt distinctly as though she were going
to faint right then and there. Instead, she took some long, deep breaths,
pushed herself up into a standing position, and proceeded to get ready for
bed, trying desperately not to think about the semi-naked man who was
going through the same nighttime ritual on the other side of the door. 

 Finally, dressed in an ivory satin nightgown and matching robe, Francesca
emerged into her living room. Kowalski was sitting on the couch/bed, which
he had decked out in sheets and blankets, dressed in her brother's shorts,
surrounded by pillows. He was flipping idly through the pages of "Sword of
Desire," which just happened to be what Frannie had come out to get. 

 She stood in front of him and held out her hand, snapping her fingers to
get his attention. "OK, buster, hand it over." 

 Kowalski looked up and gave her a wily grin. "You read this stuff?" He
looked back down at the page he had stopped on and read, "Her bosom heaved
with anticipated excitement as his hands quested slowly over her soft
curves..." 

 Francesca reached out and snatched the book from his grasp. "IF you don't
mind, that is MY book, and I was reading it before you came along." She
sniffed at him, hoping it would keep the embarassment out of her voice.
"Besides, Mr. Literature Buff, what were you doing reading it in the first
place?" 

 Kowalski leaned back, a smug grin creasing his face. "Just getting some
ideas," he drawled. 

 Francesca, in a move that was rapidly becoming routine with her, rolled
her eyes to the ceiling and back to him. "You really are a freak, you know
that?" He shrugged in a concilatory way, then proceeded to lay himself out
on the makeshift bed. 

 "Goodnight, Frannie," he said, eyes already closed. "I'll see you in the
morning." 

 She gazed down at him for a minute, and felt her heart beat a little
faster. He was so available, so ripe for the plucking, just lying there.
It had been so long..... 

 Francesca shook herself. What is WRONG with you, girl? she thought
impatiently. You are NOT that desperate. "Good night, Kowalski," she
murmured, and scurried off to bed without waiting for a reply. 

 Once back in her bedroom, she firmly shut and LOCKED the door, snuggled
down under her sheets and comforter, and began seriously to read. 

 "The raven-haired woman felt her lover's hands caress her body: her
stomach, her breasts, the tender skin on the inside of her thighs, all of
her, inch by inch. Her muscles grew taught as his gentle fingers edged
ever closer to her center. "Yes, my love," she moaned. "Oh yes, please." 

 "She felt more than saw his blue-green eyes ravishing her, taking in her
smooth complexion, her soft, gentle curves. Then, in a moment of beautiful
sensation, she felt his soft lips touch her breast, and gently begin to
suck...." 

 "Ahhhh!" Frannie cried out in consternation, tossing the book to the
side. What was wrong with her? She couldn't get him out of her mind! All
she could see as she read the book was Kowalski, gazing back at her with
his beautiful (beautiful? What am I thinking!) blue-green eyes. 

 "Well, that's enough of that!" Frannie stated aloud, more to reassure
herself and break the mood in the room than anything else. With a
determined movement, she switched off the bedside lamp, then nestled
herself in her covers, and let the rain falling rhythmically outside pull
her into sleep. 

 Or at least, that was what she was SUPPOSED to do. Instead, she found
herself lying there, wide awake, and thinking. Thinking about the book,
about Kowalski, about how bored she'd been earlier that evening. Thinking
about interesting ways to alleviate that boredom..... 

 She crushed her eyes closed, trying desperately to fall asleep. But her
body would have none of it. The sight of Kowalski in just that damn
bathtowel was what had done it to her, she was sure. If he had come out
wearing something decent she would never have started feeling like this.
Now, she lay there, drowning in her own misery. 

 Because she wanted him. 

 As much as Francesca tried to rail against the fact, she couldn't deny it
anymore. She wanted Kowalski. Wanted him to touch her, taste her, make her
feel like the woman she was. To make passionate, knee-shaking, mind
numbing love to her; she knew that if they were to have sex, it wouldn't
be anything less than spectacular. She just knew. 

 Almost a year of sexual tension at the station and beyond were suddenly
peaking here on this rainy night, and Francesca had no clue how to handle
them. 

 Finally, she couldn't fight against it any longer. Tossing back her
covers, she pulled on her robe, crossed the room, and quietly unlocked her
door, opening it just a crack so that she could peer out into the living
room. 

 All was quiet as she stole from her bedroom, trying not to make any
noise, and crept up to the couch. She gazed over the back, down at the man
who slept quietly atop the sheets. He'd opted not to use the blanket, and
lay on top of his bedding. His chest rose and fell rhythmically: up, down,
in, out, over and over again. Francesca was mesmerized by him. Slowly, not
even realizing she was doing it, she circled around the sofa, kneeling
before him so that their faces were at the same level. Then, in a slow,
sensuous move, she leaned forward and brushed her lips against his. 

 The touch was electric, and she pulled herself back quickly. Kowalski
murmured something incoherent, shifted, but didn't awake. 

 Francesca felt her fingers unconciously stroking her lips, and quickly
pulled them away. For a few more moments she gazed at him, her eyes
drinking him in, from face to feet and back again. Then, more determined
this time, she once again leaned forward and touched her lips to his, but
this time, she applied a gentle pressure to the kiss. 

 A jolt of pleasure went through her when she felt his lips respond. 

 Francesca felt his fingers slide into her rich black hair, and she
pressed herself closer to him, her lips moving on his. When they finally
separated, they gazed at each other for a few seconds. Kowalski's eyes
were wide with surprise, but she could see the desire smoldering just
below the surface. "Frannie?" he asked, bewildered 

 She reached out and laid a slim finger across his lips, pleased when she
saw his eyes close in obvious pleasure at her touch. "Shhh," she
whispered, "don't talk. Just come with me." With that, she stood,
extending her hand to him and pulling him up from the sofa. Their eyes
never left each others as she led him quietly to the bedroom, shutting the
door behind them. 

 Rounding on him slowly, she forced her eyes to lock with his again,
rather than lingering on the impressive toning of his body, or the etching
of his ribs against his skin. "I want you," she whispered, unable to make
her voice go louder. "I don't know when it happened, but I couldn't ignore
it anymore." She moved closer, tracing his jaw with her index finger. "I
need you, Kowalski. Will you give yourself to me?" 

 He remained silent for a moment, obviously stunned at her confession.
Then, slowly, a playful grin spread across his face. He moved closer
still, bending his head down and pressing his lips against hers, sending a
pulse of excruciatingly beautiful pleasure beating through her body. When
they finally separated, the two of them gasping for air, he murmured, "You
never had to ask, Frannie. All you needed to do was look at me." He leaned
in closer, so that his lips were near her ear. "I've wanted you so long,
Frannie." Her breath caught in her throat at the feel of his lips against
the tender skin of her neck, her jaw. She sucked in a breath when his
mouth found her earlobe and sucked it gently, even as his fingers worked
the knot in her robe's belt, undoing it with casual efficiency. Kowalski's
lips moved to her's again as his hands, gentle and at the same time
urgent, slid her satin robe off her shoulders. It pooled on the ground
around her feet, and she stood before him, feeling his bare skin pressed
against her through the thin film of her nightgown. 

 "Ahh, Kowalski..." she moaned against his shoulder. 

 He lifted her gently, one arm circling her back, the other cradling her
knees. Tenderly he deposited her on the bed, stretching her out on the
cotton sheets. Francesca gazed up at him, her chocolate brown eyes
searching his face for something she couldn't quite place. Reassurance,
maybe, or perhaps....love? Was that what she saw shining in his smoky
irises? His hands were smoothing over her hips and stomach, massaging her
flesh through the thin satin of her nightgown. She ran a hand luxuriously
up his strong arm, onto his shoulder, then higher, into the soft down of
his spiky blonde hair. "Are you afraid?" she asked gently, knowing the
tremor in her own voice betrayed her own nervousness. He nodded, and she
could see the anxious worry in his face. "Why?" 

 Kowalski swallowed. "I'm scared this is a dream, and when I wake up, you
won't be here anymore." His beautiful eyes locked with hers. "Promise me
this isn't a dream, Frannie, and that you'll be here when I wake up in the
morning. Please, Frannie, I need to know." 

 She was shocked to see that he was near tears as he spoke. Instinctively
she sat up and cradled him in her arms, his cheek resting against her
shoulder, her's resting on the crown of his head. "I promise, Kowalski. I
won't ever leave you. I promise." In that moment, she could have killed
that bitch Stella. Killed her for hurting him so badly, for making him
question his own self-worth so much. "I could never leave you, not now."
Slowly she pulled back, cupping his face between her palms and tenderly
kissing him, hoping to in some small way let him know how very much she
cared for him. The kiss lasted a long time, but neither one was panting
for air when they separated. It was as though they were breath enough for
each other. 

 Francesca looked deeply into his eyes, seeing the trust and passion for
her that boiled within his sensous gaze. "Make love to me, Kowalski," she
stated. "I need to feel you inside me." 

 He smiled at her, that fabulous, carefree smile she had come to adore. "I
always say, don't argue when the going's good." Francesca smiled back at
him, letting Kowalski's body slowly push her down against the roselittered
fabric of her sheets, his lips hot upon hers. She could feel his legs
straddle hers, his torso suspended just above hers. The electricity
between them seemed to crackle as his lips parted from hers. "But let's
get rid of this stuff first," he murmured against her flesh, fingering her
filmy nightgown. She nodded infinitesimally, hooking her fingers into the
waistband of his shorts and tugging them down as far as she could reach,
letting him kick them off the rest of the way. She could feel him now,
hard against her leg, and it made her heart pound even harder; to know
that she could arouse him so much while she was still fully clothed. 

 Kowalski rolled off her then, stretching out beside her on the bed.
Francesca was painfully aware of her still clothed body, and felt a flush
of embarassment at the thought of him seeing her naked flood her cheeks.
He must have noticed, because he reached out and tenderly drew the back of
his hand across her cheek. Then, in a quick movement, he was sitting
beside her in the center of the bed. "Come on," he murmured gently,
pulling her up into a sitting position in front of him. She was about to
ask him what he was doing when, with soft hands, he turned her around so
that she kneeled before him, her back to his chest. She could feel
Kowalski's hands slide down her stomach, then over her thighs, making her
shiver in anticipation. Then his hands were bunching the thin satin of her
nightgown, pulling it upwards in a slow, luxurious motion. Francesca
gasped as her midriff was bared to the air of the room. Before she knew
it, he had pulled the nightie up to her shoulders. She raised her arms and
felt him slip it off over her head, tossing it to the side of the bed. She
sucked in a breath as he brought his hands back to her eager body, resting
his warm palms on her stomach just beneath her breasts. Francesca could
feel her body tense as his hands slowly slid upwards. 

 "Shhh," he whispered, his lips against her neck. "Don't be afraid. I
won't hurt you. Just let it happen." Then his hands were on her breasts,
kneading them tenderly. Bolts of delicious sensation poured through
Francesca's body, and she could feel her muscles loosen immediately. His
lips teased the back of her neck, her ears, her shoulders, and she let
herself sink into the feel of him: of his lips, his hands on her, his body
pressed up against her back, of his hard rigidity nestled between her legs
against the satin barrier of her panties, which she could feel beginning
to dampen from her own arousal. 

 Her breath was coming in low gasps by now, as one of his hands left her
breast and traced down her stomach, fingering the waistband of her
panties. Two of his fingers slid beneath the elastic over her hip, tugging
it down a little so that his fingers could play along the full curve of
her hip. She wanted his hand to move forward, across her belly, then down,
to that part of her which was already beginning to pulse with
anticipation. "Please, Kowalski," she moaned, finding it hard to talk as
the hand still at her breast playfully rolled her nipple between two
fingers. "Please...." She didn't know what she was asking for, but she had
to say the words. 

 As though he could read her mind, Kowalski slid his other hand from her
breast to her panties, and, using both hands, pushed them down until they
bunched around her knees. One strong arm wrapped around her waist, holding
her close against him, while his other hand stole down between her legs,
parting her damp lips and touching her. 

 Francesca's hips thrust forward involuntarily, and she made a low sound
in her throat. "Ahhhh, Kowalski...." she groaned as her hips moved in
rhythm with his hand, which probed and rubbed in the most intoxicating
way. His arm tightened around her waist, and she could feel his breath
coming in pants against her neck, and she knew that he was getting as much
pleasure in giving her this sensation as she was in actually experiencing
it. She tried to press down on his hand harder, to satisfy her growing
hunger, but he held her tightly against him. 

 "Let me give it to you, Frannie," he whispered hoarsely. "Let me see you
come for me." 

 Francesca couldn't respond, too wrapped up in the swirl of emotions and
pressures that were assailing her. Her breathing was quick and shallow
now. Kowalski gently slid his hand lower down between her lips, still
massaging her throbbing nub with his thumb as he maneuvered two fingers
into her sheath. 

 "Ahhh!" Frannie cried, throwing her head back and scraping her cheek
across his rough one. She turned her head to the side so that she could
bury her face in his neck, suckle his ear, whisper to him as his hand
pumped between her legs. "Yes, yes, Kowalski, caro, please, oh please..."
She couldn't say anything more coherent than that. There was no
controlling her hips now. They rocked against his hand, and she could feel
her release coming. 

 The tightening of her muscles around his fingers must have alerted him,
because he twisted his head around so that his lips brushed against hers.
"I can feel you," he murmured, in a daze of emotion like herself. "Oh,
Frannie, I can FEEL you. Do you want it?" 

 She nodded feebly, all her muscles having turned to jello. "Yeah. Oh,
yes, please." 

 Kowalski kissed her then, and the mix of his lips against hers and his
hand against her center nearly did her in then and there. She groaned low
in her throat. 

 Then he squeezed her clit gently. 

 Francesca screamed into his mouth, her hips bucking forward in one final
thrust. Her hands flew up to his face, pulling his lips closer to her as
she twisted her upper body around to make the kiss more complete. 

 They stayed that way for a long time, lips just touching, sharing each
others breath. His fingers were still buried within her, and now and then
his thumb would brush over her tender nub, but otherwise they did not
move. 

 Finally, he loosened his grip around her waist, and she couldn't keep
herself upright anymore. Kowalski lowered her down to the pillows, moving
with her so that they lay side by side. 

 She didn't open her eyes for a few minutes. When she did, she found her
eyes gazing into his. "That was...." She couldn't find the words to
describe it; she hoped the glow in her eyes would be enough for him to
understand what she meant. 

 Kowalski smiled. "You, too," he replied, and she grinned. He understood. 

 Slowly he pushed himself up into a sitting position beside her. She felt
his fingers begin to slide from her sheath, and a sense of overwhelming
loss swept over her. "No-" she gulped, as her arms reflexively reached
down to grab his and hold it still before he could withdraw completely. 

 Kowalski grinned at her. "Easy, Frannie. I'm not done with you yet. And
besides," he chuckled, "this might be a little awkward, if we went to work
like this." His free hand traced her jawline. 

 Francesca couldn't help but smile, too, and she released his hand,
fighting down the pang of loss that she felt as his fingers slid from her
body. He ran his hands down her thighs to her knees, where her panties
still circled her legs. In a long, sensual move, he pulled them down and
off, then lay back down beside her. 

 She turned on her side so that she faced him, and their sweat-sheened
bodies touched delicately. "I've never felt so....beautiful," she said,
cupping his cheek. "Thank you." 

 He grinned sheepishly. "I've never done that before," he murmured. "Not
even with Stella." 

 She was touched by the sentiment he had expressed in that simple
statement, and brushed her lips across his. "Then thank you doubly much,"
she whispered. 

 His eyes locked with hers, and his hand played with the soft strands of
her hair. A wily smile crooked his lips then. "I'm not done yet," he
whispered, rolling his body over hers so that she lay beneath him. 

 Playfully, she traced her fingers along the line of his collarbone. "Oh,
and what do you have yet to show me?" 

 Taking one of her hands in his, he slid it down between their bodies
until her fingers brushed against his still hard erection. She raised her
eyebrows in mock surprise. "Why, Kowalski, I never knew I had such an
effect on you." 

 He grinned. "Oh no? Well, I guess I have to show you the error in that
sentence." He pressed his body down upon her, brushing his rigid tarse
along her damp lips, making her gasp even as his mouth covered hers. 

 Kowalski pulled away from her mouth and began dropping kisses down her
body: her chin, neck, pausing at her breasts to suckle her gently, then
moving on, to her belly. Finally, he came to that warm area between her
legs. With now practiced fingers, he parted her lips, and tasted her. 

 Francesca moaned and raised her hips towards the exploratory pressure of
his mouth. Kowalski's tongue moved along her folds, tasting her, touching
her, as he memorized her flavor. Then, quickly, he dipped into her body. 

 Frannie arched her back, letting her eyes close and began to moan as his
tongue moved within her. In, out, in, out, mimicking the movements of his
fingers earlier. "Ooooh, yes," she groaned. He took that oppurtunity to
gently nibble her now swollen nub, and she sucked in a deep breath, her
hands unconciously going to his head and pressing it harder against her.
"More," she begged, "Please, Kowalski...." She could feel the pressure
building within her again, ready to explode. 

 Kowalski obliged her, still dipping his tongue into her, still nibbling.
She was running mad with desire now, and she knew her climax would come
soon. 

 But just as she was about to release, he pulled back, taking his mouth
and tongue away from her tightening sheath. She gagged on the sudden lack
of sensation. "No!" she cried, almost sobbing with need. "Kowalski....?" 

 His eyes were crazed with the same desire as hers. He pulled himself back
up over her. "I've got you," he murmured through a haze of passion and
lust. 

 And he entered her. 

 The feeling was beautiful. The bliss he had been giving her with his
mouth was now supplied by his rigid member. He began to move within her,
back and forth, rocking against her. Frannie, already close to climax,
moved instinctively with him, feeling the pressure build again. 

 When her release came, she thought she would faint from the pleasure. But
then, she realized he still moved within her, and she felt her hips still
rocking against his. Again she climaxed, her neck arching, his lips
against her throat. Again....and again....and again.... 

 Finally, she felt his thrusts grow in energy. Her nails bit into the
flesh of his back, and his hands gripped her shoulders with an almost
animal intensity. When his climax came, she was with him. They threw back
their heads and cried out in the same instant, each feeling more perfect
than ever before in their lives. 

 They lay together for a long time, Kowalski still on top of her, still
buried deep within her. Francesca held him tight, not wanting the feeling
to disappear. Eventually, he rolled off her, sliding from her body. She
snuggled up against him, her face buried in his neck. She could taste
herself on him, on his body, his lips. But the overwhelming flavor was
his. The mix made her smile. They seemed so right together. Without even
knowing what she said, Francesca murmured, "I love you, Kowalski." 

 He rubbed his cheek against the crown of her head and murmured in reply,
"I love you, Frannie." 

 And like that, wrapped in each others embrace, they fell asleep. 

 

 When she woke the next morning, a gray sun shone through the rain which
still fell outside her window. Her first thought was depression that it
was still raining. Then Francesca felt a movement behind her, a tightening
of an arm around her waist, and the memories of the previous night came
flooding back to her. 

 Turning slowly, so as not to wake him, she flipped over until she was
facing him, and watched him sleep. He looked so angelic when he slept, so
peaceful. Unable to resist the urge, Franne reached up and traced a finger
across his lips. 

 He stirred, and his eyes opened slowly. He gazed at her for a moment,
then a smile slid across his face, and he kissed the tip of her finger,
which still rested against his lips. "Morning," he mumbled. 

 "Morning," she replied, smiling in return. They stayed that way for a few
minutes longer, then she slowly pulled herself up into a sitting position,
feeling her ridiculously relaxed muscles protest against the unwanted
movement. Kowalski watched her move, his eyes never leaving her body. She
gazed down at him, smiling. "What are we going to do now?" she asked. "How
are we going to explain this?" 

 "Explain what?" he asked in reply, reaching up to cup her bare breast. 

 She forced herself to focus despite the sudden burst of desire this
elicited. "You know what," she answered. "The others won't understand." 

 Kowalski sat slowly, his hand never leaving her breast, his other arm
wrapping around her back. "Who says we need to tell them? Besides," he
continued, stopping the protest which had begun to form on her lips, "I
don't care if they understand or not. I finally got you, Francesca
Vecchio, and I am not about to let you go now." With that, he leaned
forward and began to nibble lightly on her neck. 

 Unable to fight the sensation anymore, Frannie let her eyes drift closed.
"Umm, maybe you're right," she mumbled, losing herself in the feeling of
him as he slid her back down amongst the sheets and moved to be on top of
her. 

 Suddenly, a thought struck her, and she raised a hand to his chest to
check him. He looked at her in askance. "What?" 

 "We'll be late for work," she said lamely. 

 Kowalski grinned, and went back to teasing her flesh with his lips.
"We'll tell them the rain held us up," he murmured between kisses. 

 Francesca let the sensations carry her away as her arms embraced him and
pulled him closer. "The rain, huh?" 

 "Mmm-hmm." 

 She grinned. "I think I like the rain," she whispered to no one in
particular. Then everything but him and the wonderful things he was doing
to her disappeared, and she fell in love with him all over again. 

 The End 

 Well? I think it came out pretty good, for my first attempt and all. If
you liked the idea of Frannie and Kowalski as a couple, please, EXPAND ON
IT! I'm DYING to see more fiction written about these two :). Until next
time! 

 Return to Due South Fiction Archive
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