TITLE:         Hot & Cold  (Alistair Challenge Take 2!!)
AUTHOR:        Claire
RATING:        NC-17
PAIRING:       Grieg / Loxton
DISCLAIMERS:   Lovingly borrowed from Thames Television.
COMMENTS:      In case you are wondering, no, I didn't simply pull two
               names out of a hat. Once upon a time this made complete
              *sense* (to me...).
FEEDBACK:      Would you??   Find me at charlton@cobweb.com.au.


THANKS: To *George Garfield* for suggesting this! (and for those of you
who don't know, he is currently residing with the ListMom...) and for his
delightful host for the beta and for being kind about it.


============
HOT & COLD
============

 Although it is well past midnight the summer night is still unbearably
warm.  Particularly for those unfortunate enough to be involved in a
stake-out in a Vauxhall Cavalier.

Even with all four windows down, Alistair Grieg still feels as though he
is melting.  His white business shirt is clinging uncomfortably to his
torso and his tie feels like a noose. Alistair is definitely suffering in
the heat but he refuses to loosen his tie and undo the top buttons of his
shirt. Doing this would be as good as admitting that John Boulton was
right. That he could, "Unbend a little," and that as his stake-out is,
"In the dead of the night and nobody - with the exception of stray cats -
could give a toss about what you are wearing," he could also dress a
little more casually.

The other officer in the car, however, is not DS Boulton, and he couldn't
care less about what Alistair is wearing.

In fact, Steve Loxton is asleep.

Driver's seat pushed as far as it will go, the seat tilted back.  With
his long legs stretched out under the steering wheel, Steve almost looks
comfortable.

More comfortable than Alistair at least.

Alistair sighs as he leans forward and picks up a piece of ice from the
McDonald's cup on the dashboard.  Putting the ice in his mouth and
starting to suck, he remembers the strange look the teenage girl behind
the counter gave him when he ordered a large cup of ice.  He'd been too
hot to even bother attempting to share the reason for this with her.
Half of the cup has now turned to cool water but there is still a
reasonable amount of ice left.  Not for long though.

Alistair realises this and can't help but sigh again.  Not only is he
hot, he is also bored.  In the half an hour since Steve parked the car,
not a single car has passed them, let alone any of the alleged drug
runners that are supposed to be picking up from the house that they are
watching.

For a moment Alistair contemplates waking Steve.  At least he'd have
someone to talk to then.  But what would they talk about?  Alistair has
known Steve for years but like most of the officers at Sun Hill, knows
very little about him.  Rumours here and there, mostly thanks to Reg
Hollis, but nothing concrete.

Besides, if he woke Steve, he'd have to stop staring at him.

And watching Steve sleep is a hell of lot more interesting than watching
the house.

Watching how the full moon illuminates him.  Highlighting the long, black
eyelashes. Watching his chest rise and fall, rhythmically.

Inhaling the scent of long ago applied aftershave and the undertone of
sweat.

Listening to the sound of him breathing quietly.

Comparing it unfavourably, to the sound of his own breathing.  Alistair
is dismayed to discover that he is beginning to sound like an overworked
air conditioning unit.

Damn!  It has to be the heat, Alistair thinks as he regretfully turns his
attention once more to the target house.  It's not as though watching
another man sleep is going to have any effect on him.

Is it?

It is.

Alistair has to admit it.  Watching Steve sleep is a vague turn on.

The only way to get out of this in Alistair's current, heat-addled way of
thinking is to wake Steve up.  Then they can talk about the case, or
something equally boring, and everything will be all right.

Now, Alistair's next problem is how to wake Steve up without looking
//desperate// like an idiot.  It's not as if he can suddenly claim action
in the street...and there really is no other excuse.

Reaching back into the McDonald's cup, Alistair pulls out another piece
of ice and mulls over his current situation.  If only he wasn't so hot,
he could think straight.  He is so intent on his dilemma that he forgets
the ice in his hand and it slips through his fingers, landing in a cold
puddle on his thigh.  Shocking him awake.

There's an idea!

// Pretend to be in a mischievous mood and drop a piece of ice on Steve.
Blame the silliness on the heat.  Laugh it off. //

Alistair is aware that this isn't the most brilliant plan he has ever
come up with, but in the absence of any better suggestions, it will have
to do.

There are a few lingering doubts in Alistair's mind as he reaches for the
cup of ice.  Steve will no doubt think that he has lost the plot...but
it's a small price to pay.

Alistair now can't even close his eyes without being haunted by images of
Steve's body lying on the car seat next to him.  The only difference
between the images and reality is that in the images he is naked...

Quashing the doubts (and the images...), Alistair picks a piece of ice up
and without pausing to think twice, leans over the space between the
seats and drops it down Steve's shirt.  He then hurriedly shifts back to
his own seat and waits for the reaction.

There is no reaction.  Steve doesn't move.

This leaves Alistair in even more of a quandary.  It's a large piece of
ice. A large piece of ice that is now melting and is going to leave a
large damp patch on his forest-green shirt. Which, if he were to wake up
and discover would probably necessitate even more explaining.

There is no help for it.  Alistair decides that he has to retrieve the
ice.

The thought of merely waking Steve up at this point in time and inquiring
as to why he didn't wake up when a piece of ice was dropped on his bare
skin, doesn't even enter Alistair's mind.  Proving once and for all that
the heat is doing strange things to him.

It *has* to be the heat.  No other reason can explain why Alistair is
shifting position in his seat until he is all but kneeling on it, leaning
over Steve's supine form. His face is a picture of supreme concentration
as he hesitantly begins to gently unbutton Steve's shirt.  Pausing after
each button to check that he is still asleep.

Alistair is so intent on the task at hand that he nearly forgets why he's
doing it in the first place.  That is, until his hands brush against a
wet patch and he discovers what is left of the ice lying just above the
waist of Steve's trousers.

Instead of simply picking up the ice and re-doing the buttons, Alistair
sits back and watches Steve.  Watches how the ice is melting and how
quickly the warm air is drying the puddles on his skin.  His skin that is
so pale and fair in the moonlight. Alistair is so transfixed by the sight
that his next move is entirely unconscious.  He leans forward, and,
gently placing two fingers on what is left of the ice, propels it slowly
up Steve's chest. When he reaches his nipples he starts to circle the
left one.  Watching in fascination as it hardens and darkens.

Alistair is about to continue the circling on the other nipple when a few
things happen simultaneously.  Firstly the piece of ice admits defeat and
melts completely, secondly Alistair realises what he is doing and
thirdly, Steve confesses to being awake.

"I do hope that there is more ice..."

'Stunned' cannot begin to describe how Alistair feels about this.
Horrified.  Embarrassed. Ashamed.

He recoils into his seat and refuses to look at Steve, staring out of the
passenger window until he feels calm enough to speak.

"I'm sorry...I never should have...I don't know what came over me..."

"There's no need to be like that.  I was enjoying it..."

Although he still won't face Steve, Alistair shifts position until he is
looking in the general direction of the steering wheel.  Resting his
forehead in the palm of his left hand.

"You were...?"

"I was.  Believe me, if I hadn't been, you would probably be in an
unconscious heap on the road by now..."

Steve's voice sounds gentle and Alistair dares to look at him.  Relaxing
slightly when he sees that Steve has an almost amused expression on his
face.

"Are you sure?  I mean, I still never should have...I was only trying to
wake you up..."

"Don't sound so worried.  I'm not at all bothered.  It's the coolest I've
felt all day...mind you, I wouldn't say no if you were to continue..."

Alistair can hardly believe where this appears to be leading.  And it's a
very attractive destination.

"You would let me...I mean, you want me to continue?"

"I *need* you to continue..."

A quick glance out the window confirming that the street is still as good
as dead, helps Alistair make his decision.

The decision he makes clear by dipping his fingers into the cup and
retrieving a piece of ice. This action being rewarded by a genuine smile
on Steve's face as he untucks and finishes unbuttoning his shirt, before
lying back on the seat.  A small gasp escapes his lips as Alistair starts
where he left off with the ice.  Sliding the small cube of frozen water
first around one nipple and then the other.  Then gently rubbing it over
each nipple in turn. Almost freezing them solid.

Not content with this reaction alone, Alistair places what is left of
that piece of ice in his mouth and swiftly lowers his head until his
tongue can take over the sweet torture of Steve's nipples.

Cool, rough tongue lapping at the frozen peaks while one hand explores
the heat-crazed skin above Steve's belt.

All Steve can do is to grab onto the head-rest to stop himself from
writhing on the seat.

Without lifting his head, Alistair begins to lick a path down Steve's
torso. Pausing only to pop another piece of ice in his mouth before
subjecting his navel to the same treatment that his nipples had received.
The only difference being that instead of merely sliding the ice across,
Alistair drops it into Steve's navel and pushes it around with his tongue
before scooping it back into his mouth.

Alistair sucks hard on what is left of the ice and enjoys the new, salty
taste of it.

Sensing that Steve is having difficulty remaining in control, Alistair
lifts his head and places his hand on the other man's belt.  The fact
that Steve willingly lifts his buttocks off the seat, tells him that he's
made the right move.  After undoing the belt as quickly as can be
achieved with one hand (the other hand is being used to brace himself on
the edge of the driver's seat...), Alistair swiftly pulls Steve's
trousers and boxers down. Exposing his hard cock in all its glory.

Steve is helpless to control the small whimpering sounds that are passing
through his lips and he pushes himself further up the seat in order to
give Alistair better access.

A wicked grin takes up residence on Alistair's face as he again picks up
a piece of ice. A grin that only broadens as he begins to trail the ice
up and down Steve's sensitive shaft. Eliciting increasingly loud moans of
approval from Steve, who at this point is completely incapable of
rational thought.

As Alistair slowly slides the remains of the ice along his perineum,
Steve thinks that he can take no more...and then Alistair suddenly leans
back...removing all touch...

Steve closes his eyes in frustration and misses the sight of Alistair
quickly downing the remains of the ice.

The next thing he is aware of is Alistair's icy cold tongue darting over
his cock before beginning to swallow it.  Whole.

The exquisite coldness of Alistair's mouth sucking on his cock, strongly
contrasting to the heat of the rest of his body is way too much for Steve
and he can't control himself any longer, coming hard into Alistair's
willing mouth.

Falling back, exhausted in his seat as Alistair gives him one last lick
before removing his mouth, Steve is dimly aware of a figure walking
towards them at the far end of the street. Even though he is at least a
block away, Steve recognises him as one of the suspects they are waiting
for.

"Shit..."

Alistair hasn't seen the suspect yet and briefly wonders why Steve is
hurriedly pulling his trousers back up.

"What's your hurry?"

Pausing from his task of quickly doing his shirt buttons up, Steve looks
at Alistair and laughs.

"Haven't you seen him yet?"

"Huh?"

"The *suspect*...one of the reasons we are here in the first place..."

"Shite."

"Exactly.  Come on.  Let's nick him.  We can continue this later..."

Alistair realises that Steve means this, and gets out of the car,
smiling...

"You know...I'll just have to hold you to that..."

~end~