Jack, Abbie and the Party
By The Sentinel
The hall was finely decorated, flowers and candles and streamers. A champagne fountain was perched on a table in the center of the room. Several waiters and waitresses were gliding through the guests, artfully handling trays of various items.
He entered the hall with his equally dispassionate partner, Abigail Carmichael. Neither of them was particularly happy about having to attend this party, but they had been instructed to do so by their boss, District Attorney, Adam Schiff.
Abbie was dressed beautifully though; wearing a gorgeous, blue, satin sheath dress; spaghetti straps, low-cut back, high slit up the left side. Beautiful. Her hair was pulled up nicely with a few well-placed strands framing her face.
His manner of dress was equally elegant; a black tuxedo, dark vest and bow tie; shoes polished, hair in place. He did not figure people would notice him as much as they would notice Abbie, even with him on her arm.
Leaning in, close to his ear, she whispered, again, her displeasure at having to attend this event. He calmly reassured her that they would find a way to slip out as soon as possible. As he was preparing to explain his potential plan, a familiar face approached, extending a warm greeting to the pair of Assistant District Attorneys.
Ben Stone, dressed in a finely tailored tuxedo, had been an ADA under Adam Schiff a few years back, but had resigned for his own reasons. Jack had never bothered to ask, was none of his affair. Ben appeared well and seemed pleased to have been invited to the party.
The three attorneys exchanged pleasantries and shared stories of past cases, both positive and negative. Ben was impressed with the track record Jack was setting, though he did not always agree with the man's methods.
Adam Schiff wandered past the group, stopping to extend his greetings and instruct them to disperse and mingle with the rest of the guests. Unbeknownst to Misters Stone and Schiff, Abbie and Jack exchanged exasperated sighs, but shrugged and made an effort to comply with the DA's request.
After speaking to only a few people, Jack and Abbie were bored stiff and ready to depart. However, they chose to slink off into the shadows along the wall and comment further on some of the ridiculous attire some of the guests were sporting.
One woman wore an object in her hair that very much resembled a large bird with its wings outspread. Her date was a sight also; his tuxedo was a pair of black slacks, white jacket, and ugly polka-dotted bow tie, and an orange cummerbund. Abbie and Jack laughed at this pair strutting around like flamboyant peacocks so hard they were sure someone would notice and ask them to leave.
No one did, so they continued their game. Receiving a few odd stares, though, they shifted position to a different darkened section of wall space and continued their conversation, but on a different topic, taking a break from the game.
Jack mentioned that he did not realize Abbie had such an infectious sense of humor. He had not had such a good time at one of these stuffy parties since the year an ADA from Queens got smashed and started doing a striptease and a table dance - that guy was still trying to live that one down. Abbie laughed.
He brushed a stray lock of hair away from her face and she raised her eyes to meet his. The smile in her eyes was subtle, but there. Lightly his fingers stroked her cheek, lifted her chin. He began to lean forward, but stopped himself and smiled at her. Then, asked her to dance.
She waltzed beautifully; he had no idea. Abbie was full of surprises tonight. He knew she was attractive, she always had been, but he had never focused on it before tonight. Tonight was different; tonight, she was stunning.
Her slender hip pressed against his, her cheek, against his neck. Soft hair tickled his ear as they moved across the floor to the music.
The music faded; he stepped back and bowed slightly, bringing her hand to his lips. Her eyes smiled brightly and she dipped her head in acknowledgement. A tap on his shoulder interrupted his thoughts. Jack turned to the man behind him.
Ben Stone. He wanted a dance with Abbie. Jack passed the decision to his partner; he would graciously accept her choice either way. She accepted. Inwardly, to his astonishment, he was crushed, but stepped aside to permit the dance.
The music began and from his station on the wall, Jack watched the pair, admiring Abbie's dancing ability from the outside. Why did this bother him so much? He never cared before tonight. Now, as Benjamin Stone, former ADA, twirled her gently around the dance floor, he felt something grip him. Not something physical, but he could not determine, perhaps emotional.
They returned and Ben thanked Abbie and Jack for the dance, then disappeared again into the crowd. Jack watched Ben a moment, then returned his attention to Abbie. She was smiling, but seemed inwardly relieved that she was by his side again. Though they had not officially dubbed this a 'date;' Jack felt protective.
Jack asked for one more dance. A soft, slow melody was playing, and he tucked on arm around her waist, taking her hand in his free one. She stepped into his dance frame, curling her free arm around his neck. Moving and swaying to the soft sounds, his arms encircled her waist, hers, his neck. Her fingers wandered into his salt-and-pepper hair, toying with it.
Drawing her closer, he lowered his lips to meet hers, brushing lightly, testing. Soft, warm lips returned the kiss, long, slender fingers pressing gently against his neck, pulling him closer. His hands slid over her bare back, holding her, stroking her neck. Her tongue passed over his lips and he opened his mouth, inhaling, taking in her scent, feminine and sweet.
Her face was flushed when she pulled away and glanced up at him. She licked her lips and smiled. Jack gave her a smile in return, then leaned close to her ear, asking if she was ready to depart. A nod of her head, and they were on their way, progressing politely through the crowd of guests.
Several steps from the door, a voice called to him. Jack turned over his left shoulder to find that, once more, Ben Stone was beckoning. Ben inquired after their early departure, to which Jack replied that Abbie was not feeling well, and he would be escorting her home. This explanation seemed to satisfy Ben, who turned and proceeded to rejoin the festivities.
Jack and Abbie exited the building and hailed a cab, but asked the driver to drop them a few blocks from Abbie's apartment in order to walk the rest of the way.
The evening was lovely, clear sky, thousands of stars shimmering above, a cool breeze caressing their skin. A quiet conversation developed between them; discussion of nothing in particular.
The apartment building rose before them. Jack stopped at the base of the stairs leading to the entryway. Abbie asked him if he would like to come up for a moment or two. Nodding, he agreed and followed her inside to her apartment.
He pushed the door closed and took hold of her wrist, drawing her near, crushing her mouth with his. The slight resistance from her excited him further. Soon the resistance was gone and she relaxed into his embrace, prying his mouth open with her tongue.
Expertly, he traced the tips of his fingers over her back, then eased the zipper down, and slid the spaghetti straps from her shoulders, allowing the dress to puddle at her feet. He trailed his fingers down her body, discovering she wore nothing else but her shoes.
Abbie's hands pushed the tuxedo jacket from his shoulders, pulled the bow tie from his neck. Then, began to unbutton the dark vest and crisp, white shirt; the materials rustling and falling to the floor. Working his pants loose, while pressing her lips to his neck, she slip the pants over his slender hips, letting them cascade to his feet. He leaned his head against the door as she trailed kisses down his chest, stopping just above his waist. She removed his boxers, then rose to her full height to kiss him again. His lips were soft, his kiss, passionate. Lifting her, he turned, pressing her against the door, entering her.
She wrapped her long legs around his slender hips, drawing him deeper inside; digging her fingernails into the taught flesh of his back as the thrusting began to quicken. She matched him thrust for thrust, anticipating her climax. Reaching her peak, she wrapped her arms around his neck, breathing heavily against his ear.
He felt her contracting around him and her breathing become erratic again, and she pulled him over the edge with her. Noticing his knees were slightly weakening, he carried her to the bedroom; placing hot kisses along her neck and shoulders, then fell with her onto the bed.
The doorbell rang and Abbie propped herself up on her elbow with a look of exasperation in her eyes. She glanced to Jack, knowing he was thinking the same thing; they were both hoping it was not Ben Stone.