Chapter Text
When Janet kisses her for the first time, Sam closes her eyes to savour the moment.
She drinks in every detail.
The small sigh escaping the doctor’s lips before they press against her own, delicate but certain.
The little sting on her bottom lip from Janet’s teeth, followed by the soothing warmth of her tongue, a promise and an apology wrapped in the same breath.
The mingling of their breath when Sam eagerly parts her lips, her body responding before her mind has even caught up.
The electric tingle that shoots down her spine when their tongues meet, tentative at first, then surer, deeper.
The hitch in Janet’s breathing as Sam slides her right hand into soft, chestnut hair, feeling strands slip through her fingers like silk. Her left hand settles instinctively at Janet’s hip.
The feel of the desk biting gently into the back of her thighs as Janet presses her closer, urgency starting to burn through the initial hesitance.
The tickle of hair against her cheek as Sam slowly releases the clip from Janet’s bun, watching it fall in waves around her face.
The warmth that spreads along Sam’s thigh when she lifts it, pressing between Janet’s legs, rewarded instantly by the sharp gasp that escapes Janet’s lips. Her own hands tighten instinctively when she feels Janet mirror the movement.
A soft, almost involuntary sound escapes the other woman, a whimper that curls through Sam’s stomach like fire, as her nails graze Janet’s scalp.
She shudders when Janet’s hands, steady and sure, slide down her sides and curve around the small of her back, drawing them impossibly closer.
Then comes the rush of startled awareness, the realisation that the only thing separating them from the rest of the infirmary is a single, traitorous door. For a split second, Sam considers pulling away. But Janet beats her to it.
Slowly, deliberately, Janet eases her mouth from Sam’s, her lips lingering like she’s reluctant to leave. Sam immediately misses the contact, the warmth, the taste, the gravity of it.
But the ache in her chest is soothed when Janet rests their foreheads together, both of them panting, eyes closed. It feels like something sacred, two people pausing at the edge of something enormous.
Janet’s lips travel again to Sam’s forehead, her closed eyelids, the tip of her nose, both cheeks, reverent kisses that make Sam feel treasured, wanted, known.
Then one final, soft brush of lips to her own, and Sam’s eyes flutter open.
“Was that okay? Are you okay?” Janet whispers, her voice low, tinged with something almost shy as she tightens her arms around Sam.
Sam swallows, her heart pounding like a drum against her ribs. “Yes,” she breathes. “More than okay.”
Janet studies her for a long moment, eyes warm and searching. Then she smiles slow and coy, a little smug, and completely devastating.
“As much as I’ve enjoyed this,” she murmurs, brushing her nose against Sam’s, “and would very much love to repeat it, and soon... I still have about an hour left on shift.” She pauses, raising an eyebrow. “Would you be agreeable to continuing this at my place, say... six?”
Sam doesn't even hesitate. “Yes.”
She punctuates her answer with a brief but meaningful kiss, then gently disentangles herself and steps around Janet. Her knees are still weak, but somehow her stride is confident.
She casts one final glance over her shoulder as she opens the door. Janet is standing there, visibly flushed, biting her lower lip and her eyes are locked shamelessly on Sam’s retreating backside.
The tingle returns with a vengeance, and Sam bites back a grin.
Six can’t come fast enough.