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Cold Case and it's characters are not mine, no matter how much I wish on a star that they were because Kat Miller is awesome!




Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.


Detective Kat Miller never really got great Christmas presents.

She got practical presents from her mom. Things she needed: new travel mug, a warmer coat, a new pair of sturdy black shoes for the job.

She got adorable gifts from Veronica: a misshapen ashtray that she had no idea what to do with since she stopped smoking, a homemade picture frame with a photo of the two of them at the Philly PD family picnic.

But nothing great. And certainly nothing romantic. Or devilishly inappropriate.

So when she saw the slim, square box on her desk she had no idea what to expect.

 “What’s this,” she asked Jeffries skeptically.

“Not from me,” he shrugged.

“Vera, did you do this?”

The look he gave her was priceless. “Do I look like a fricking elf over here?”

Valens chuckled into his coffee.

“Scotty?”

He put his hands up as if surrendering. “Wasn’t me.”

“Did Lilly do this?”

“Nah, I don’t even think she’s been in yet,” Scotty offered.

“Then who the hell-” she wondered to herself.

“Well open it already. What is it,” Vera asked like a spoiled child.

“He’s been starin’ at that for the last thirty minutes,” Scotty said. “He tried to get me to open it. Said you’d never know.”

“You didn’t have to tell her that,” Vera shot back.

Jeffries gave them both an exasperated glare, but couldn’t hide the expectant gleam in his eyes when he turned back to Miller.

She sunk into her chair and lifted the top off of the box just enough to peak inside.

She shut it immediately.

***

ADA Curtis Bell was waiting outside of the women’s room on the sixth floor.

“Bell!”

Miller had planned to hold her temper but she couldn’t. The minute she saw him idling in the hallway, looking his usual strange mixture of smug and inept, she could feel the sweat beading on her temples.

“Detective,” he said merrily. “Hey, you going to the Christmas party tonight?”

“What the- it’s murder cops only. How do you know about it?”

“How do I know about it? I helped Scotty and Nick plan it… over a bottle of bourbon. I even picked the location.”

“It’s at a bar.”

“A ba- Not just any bar. It’s at Finnegan’s. Wait until you try their potato skins. To die for.”

As usual when she spoke to Bell, her mouth fell open and her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He only just barely ever made sense.

“Are you… Never mind. That’s not why I was looking for you-”

“You were looking for me,” he said, leaning forward, flashing that mischievous grin that made her heart ache.

Miller’s gaze dropped to his mouth for a second and she licked her lips. “I-”

“Oh, hold on,” he said as the bathroom door opened. “Alright, let me look at you,” he said to the young girl as she stepped timidly into the hallway.

She was pretty with pigtails secured with ribbons on her small head and a floral print summer dress.

“What do you think,” Bell said to Miller.

“What?”

“About her? Does she look…” He hesitated, uncomfortably searching for the right word.

“Like a whore,” the girl interjected. “He’s asking if I look like a whore.”

“What,” Kat said, dumbfounded.

“Uh-,” Bell shifted uncomfortably. “Kristen here might have started an amateur escort service at her college.”

“Amateur,” Kristen interjected. “I had half the financial district calling for my girls. There wasn’t anything amateurish about my operation,” she finished with a smug grin.

Miller’s mouth fell open again.

“Uh… She’s my star witness in the Waters & Peterson embezzlement case,” he said, quickly ushering Kristen into a nearby interview room. He closed the door and turned back to Miller. “Now, where we,” he had to nerve to say, turning on all of his charm.

“No.” She backed away. “Did you put this box on my desk,” she said, jabbing him in the chest with it.

“I don’t know, what’s in it,” he asked, reaching for the package. She yanked it back.

“No games Bell. Is this from you or not?”

“Well how will I know if you won’t let me see what’s in it?”

“I’m gonna take that as a no.”

“I can’t be sure,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest and grinning like an idiot.

Miller had to stop herself from stamping her foot on the ground.

“If I found out you did this…”

“Did what?”

She didn’t respond.

***

Kat hadn’t planned to change for the Christmas party but she’d made a rookie mistake and gotten a little too close to the junkie going through withdrawal.

She put on her extra shirt and scrubbed the hell out of the stain on her pants leg but couldn’t get the smell out of her nose. And when everyone refused to go anywhere near her, even the Lieutenant, she finally packed it in and came home.

She was just going to take a quick, burning hot shower and be right back out the door. But the minute that steaming hot spray hit her face the Department was the last thing on her mind. And now, as she stood in just a towel staring into her closet, she couldn’t stop her eyes from wandering back to that slim box.

Kat walked over to her bed and slipped the top off. If it wasn’t Bell, she couldn’t even begin to think who would have the gall to give her a slinky, lacy black bra and panties set. But the question of who had given it to her took a backseat to the more puzzling question: Why hadn’t Bell given her a pair of sexy underwear?

Maybe it was her frustration at him, and wherever the hell that relationship was going… or not. Or maybe it was the desire to be someone different from the straight-laced, no nonsense Kat Miller that everyone knew just for one night. Or maybe it was just that whoever had put that box on her desk knew her better than she thought anyone could, because the set was exactly the style she would have bought for herself. Whatever it was, Kat walked resolutely to the laundry closet and threw the underwear into the washer, stalked back to her closet and grasped her favorite slinky black dress.

***

“You should have seen her face once she knew what was coming,” Vera boomed, the glass of bourbon sloshing around in his hand. “It was priceless. He threw up all down her shirt.”

Scotty cringed as he tipped the last of his beer into his mouth. Miller was going to be pissed when she found out Vera was passing that story around, but it was funny. He turned to the bar and signaled to the bartender for another pint but then he saw her.

He knew it was her because of the way the bar’s dim lighting bounced off of her smooth skin. But besides that, there was very little about this woman that matched what he knew about Det. Kat Miller. And even though he’d seen her like this before it was always a bit jarring when he caught a glimpse of her long, smooth, shiny bare legs.

“Here you go buddy,” the bartender said, sliding a fresh beer in front of him.

Scotty blinked rapidly, attempting to focus on the man’s face. “Oh… yea, thanks.” He brought the glass to his lips and gulped down a good third of the liquid.

“Hey, slow down, I don’t want to have to return the favor tonight,” Miller said, sidling up to the bar. Scotty put his glass down and swiped at his mouth discreetly.

“What can I get you,” the bartender asked Kat.

“Can I get a… glass of merlot,” she said, with a smile that made the man blush.

She turned slightly, flashing her smile at Scotty. And then she frowned, “What?”

Scotty grinned. “Nothing… You’re just… uh, a little overdressed aren’t you?”

She turned slightly, with her hand on her hip, accentuating the curve of her hips. “You got a problem with what I’m wearing?”

“Uh…um,” Scotty spluttered as the bartender set her drink down.

“Hey Miller, you clean up nice,” Vera said, laughing. He’d meant it as a joke but he was the only one laughing. The other guys around his table were too busy gulping down their drinks and trying to ogle Kat’s legs on the sly to muster more than a chuckle.

“Miller,” the bartender asked. “You wouldn’t be Detective Kat Miller?”

“Yea, I am,” she said cautiously.

“Then this,” he said, pulling another slim box from behind the bar, this one slightly smaller than the last, “is for you.

***

One mysterious present was already more than Kat felt she had a right to hope for. Two nearly sent her over the edge to giddy. And she still had no idea who they were from. Or if they were from the same person.

When she took the lid off the package there was an envelope inside. She was relieved and disappointed all at the same time.

She opened the envelope and found a map of Philly, with a small red ‘x’ near the middle.

“Is that the precinct,” Scotty asked, his breath warm on her ear.

“Yea,” Kat said. “I think it is.”

***

The night shift was surprisingly light. Everyone with any ounce of pull had found a way to make it to the Christmas party. If anyone’s thinking of committing a murder, tonight’s the night to do it, Kat thought, sending a shiver down her spine.

She walked into the main office. There were only a few overhead lights on. It was eerie and the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end.

There was a light on in the largest interview room and she knew that’s where she was supposed to go.

She reached for the doorknob and turned it slightly, unconsciously reaching her hand back to her purse, where she’d stashed her service weapon.

When she pushed the door open, she stood in the entrance, her mouth agape.

“What the hell?”

***

He’d been waiting for this all day.

The look on her face when she opened the door made his jaw clench and caused a distinct… hardening a little south of the equator.

“What the hell,” she said again, looking at him, her eyes shining. “You said it wasn’t you.”

“And you believed me? You seeing someone on the side,” Bell asked, doing a pretty good job making light of the jealousy that flamed in the pit of his stomach.

“Well when you said you didn’t give me that present, I definitely considered stepping out.”

They smiled at each other shyly.

“Well come in, you didn’t come all the way here to stand on the sidelines, did you?”

She eased into the room, shutting the door behind her. She dropped her purse into an empty chair and slid her jacket from her shoulders.

His eyes on her the entire time.

***

Kat never really got into the whole role-playing during sex. It just wasn’t her thing. Or at least she hadn’t thought it was her thing, until he leaned back in his chair, staring at her, his face half hidden in shadow.

She threw her jacket over the back of the chair and eased around the table, just out of his reach.

The look on his face coincided with a distinct rise in the room temperature, she was sure.

She was also not the type to be nervous. Her nerves were usually steel. But something about the way he looked at her made her left hand shake, just a little bit.

He licked his lips slowly as his gaze drifted down her body, lingering on the way her hips stretched the fabric of her dress.

“Come here,” he breathed in a hoarse whisper.

***

He moaned softly when she stepped between his legs, rubbing her knee against his thigh.

“I’ve had dreams about you… in a dress… like that.” He cleared his throat and rubbed his hands along his thighs, fighting the urge to grab her and pull her down onto his lap. “Are you wearing ‘em?”

She ducked her head and smiled. “You lied to me. Why should I tell you?”

“I’m a lawyer,” he said easily, “I lie a lot.”

A wry smile spread on her lips. “So I shouldn’t believe anything you say.”

“Not unless it’s about how much I want you,” Bell whispered and her breath caught in her throat. He leaned forward, resting his elbow on his knees and reached out his hands to smooth the hem of her dress. His palms grazed her thighs and she couldn’t stop the groan that formed deep in her throat.

“I’ve been waiting to do this for weeks,” he said, inhaling her scent.

***

There are moments when a person is only barely aware of what’s happening. When they can feel, but not quite see clearly. When they couldn’t stop even if they wanted. This was one of those moments for Kat Miller. The minute Curtis Bell’s hands pushed underneath her dress, trailing a path warm friction across her skin, all she could see, all she could feel, was the burn of his skin where it met hers.

 “Spread your legs,” he said, his voice ragged with need.

She obeyed.

“Counselor?”

His hand slipped in between her thighs and his fingertips grazed her panties, the panties he bought for her. She shuddered.

“Wider.”

***

There was champagne. And strawberries. He’d even gone back to Giordano’s, where they had their first date, and gotten the tiramisu. He planned to have to work to seduce her. Apparently, he’d miscalculated.

But he couldn’t complain.

He twisted his finger into the sides of her panties and wiggled them down her legs. The thin, lacey fabric that he’d agonized over for two hours in Macy’s, slipped to her ankles and she stepped out of them. He ran his lips across her skin.

***

Kat generally had a problem with touching. Every other relationship she’d been in, she had to build up to touching. Even something as simple as holding hands was never a given. At first, Curtis Bell was no different. But the way his skin felt on hers, the first time he grasped her hand across the table on that first date, sent shivers down her spine that she’d never quite recovered from.

When they were together she couldn’t shake the desire to touch him. To have his warm skin rubbing against hers. To stroke her fingers across the light hair on his arms. To scratch that spot on the inside of his wrist that she knew made him hard. To have that kind of control over someone with just a flick of her fingers was intoxicating. And she loved it.

But then there was the other side. The way he touched her.

The way he lifted her onto the edge of the table. The way he pushed her dress up her thighs. The way he pried her knees apart to settle in between her legs. The pressure of his hands as he wrapped his arms around her to find the zipper at the back of her dress.

She ran her hands up his chest to hook her finger in the knot of his tie and pry it from him.

He splayed his fingers along her spine. She ripped his shirt open.

He pulled her butt to the edge of the table and she wrapped her legs around his waist. In what was surely the calm before the storm, he reached up to grasp her face in his hands and slowly touch his lips to hers. She could feel the light pressure in the back of her eyes as he pried her lips apart and snaked his tongue into her mouth.

***

Everything was quiet, except for their breathing.

She took in a harsh, ragged breath when he entered her. And then moaned in a small voice when he pulled out.

He bent his head and pressed his forehead against hers.

“I.. you-” He attempted to say but moaned softly when she cupped the back of his head in her hand and ran her fingernails along his scalp.

He began to move inside of her.

Slowly at first. There was no need to rush. They knew that. They had nowhere else to be tonight. Nothing else to do except enjoy the feel of each other. Being together. But eventually she locked her ankles around his ass and pushed him in harder. And faster.

He gripped her face and kissed her roughly. When he pulled away she sucked his bottom lip into her mouth, refusing to let him go so easily.

He ran his hands down her neck, stroked her delicate throat. She smiled and released his mouth with a small smack.

He grasped at her dress and pulled it down over her shoulders, finally exposing her lace covered breasts to the Department’s cool air. Her nipples hardened painfully and her back arched. He leaned back slightly to admire the view. The soft rise and fall of her chest.

Something about the way he looked at her, with a mix of hunger and devotion, made her thighs shake and pushed her over the edge.

He smiled as her voice rose. This was really what he’d been waiting for. The moment she truly gave into him. Gave into them. He’d always felt it, that small hesitation, the littlest doubt. Like she didn’t trust him. Or better yet, didn’t trust herself around him.

But she couldn’t stop this; what was happening between them. Her voice rose to an ear splitting moan until eventually it was nothing but a steady stream of pleas to god to never let it stop.

He gripped her waist savagely and began pumping into her in earnest, putting off his own release.

“Right… right… right…” she stammered.

“There,” he breathed, just as her muscles clenched around him and her head fell back in one long, sonorous moan that he swallowed when he closed his mouth over hers. All of her muscles locked, her nails dug into his shoulders.

A few more pumps and he groaned into her mouth with his own release.

Then there was nothing again. No other sound besides the steady pace of their breath and the pounding in their ears from their frantically beating hearts.

In time with one another.

***

Kat Miller was not a woman who fell in love. Falling would denote an accident and in her life accidents could be life-changing,  tragic. Bell knew this about her. So when she leaned forward, while he was still inside of her, and whispered those three words he’d never fooled himself into believing she’d say to him, he knew it was real.

Curtis Bell was not a man who wooed a woman with beautiful pronouncements and love letters. He was one of those random few who showed a woman, with every inch of his body from his eyes to fingertips to the curl of his toes, that he was hers and she was his. There was so much about Bell that downright confounded Kat, but the soft stroking of his hand across her back told her everything she refused to see before, that this was real.

You could be a sweet dream or a beautiful nightmare. Somebody pinch me, your love’s too good to be true.










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