Look Before You Leap - Regann - Common Law. Wes had spent his entire life being cautious -- looking before he leapt, making decisions only after thinking things through as far as possible. He had made all his big decisions that way, every important milestone that had shaped his life: law school, Alex, changing careers. The first time Wes had made a decision without thinking was when he'd agreed to be Travis Marks's partner after they'd cracked the Gentlemen Caller Serial Killer case. Five years later, it seemed like it was a mistake he was doomed to continue to repeat when it came to Travis. It started, of course, with a fight. Not their partnership, but the earth-shattering change that, in hindsight, Wes could see had been hovering between them for months, amplifying the frustration and irritation that had always been par for the course with them.
Wes's mind was still confusing to cooperate. "Yeah," Travis answered, breathy himself, a hint of laughter in his tone. "Why did it? " "I did," he said. "What? " "Hey. " "No," Wes said. "What? Progress Report - Regann - Common Law. Although he'd never admit it out loud for fear of what Wes might do to him, Travis didn't hate the couples' therapy like his partner did. Oh, at first he had, but he had quickly come to enjoy it, if for no other reason that Wes hated it so much.
And Wes hated it, like he hated injustice and bad police searches, with the kind of fervor he usually reserved for his lawn or gun care. So, if nothing else, Travis enjoyed going to group to bask the stoic, square-jawed misery it brought out in Wes. Petty, yes, but he hadn't been the one who had drawn the smoking gun that had landed them there in the first place.
Travis also had to admit that therapy definitely couldn't hurt Wes. Having known the man for seven years -- five of which they'd spent as partners -- he was well aware of number of unhealthy coping mechanism the former lawyer had devised to not-deal with his own emotions. That probably said something about him but Travis didn't let that bother him, either. "And why are we doing this? " Just like plastic wrap - mixtapestar - Common Law. "This is all your fault," Wes says harshly. "My fault? " Travis echoes. "You're the one that took his sweet time triple checking his duffle bag to make sure he didn't forget anything. " "If you had made the reservation in advance like I told you to, we wouldn't be in this situation. " Travis rolls his eyes. "Whatever," Wes says. "Don't kick me," Travis says, pulling the sheet back when it shifts toward Wes.
"Shut up and go to sleep. " Travis wakes up slowly the next morning, warm and comfortable. "Whoa, hey," Wes says suddenly, tensing up next to him and pushing Travis's arm away where it's tossed over his hip. Travis is awake now. Wes spends most of the morning being all weird about it, but Travis isn't bothered. Once Wes stops complaining about the sleeping situation, he's actually in a good mood, even when their first lead only gets them a half-step closer to the drug lord. When Travis calls him on his cheeriness, Wes nods. "Sure," Travis says. "What the hell are you doing?
" It doesn't work. No Smooth Ride - Sandrine Shaw (Sandrine) - Common Law. All things considered, therapy isn't so bad. Wes absolutely hates it, of course: hates sitting in a circle with a bunch of strangers (well, maybe not exactly strangers anymore – it's hard to consider someone a stranger once you know how often they have sex, or how they drive their spouse insane by leaving dirty socks on the coffee table) and talking about personal issues. Opening up. Sharing. It's not something that he enjoys doing, or something that comes easily to him. But it could be worse. Back when he was working at the law firm, they had a corporate client from an advertising agency who kept telling these stories about how their boss forced them to attend team building seminars because they didn't really get along. They would do those stupid trust exercises where you'd close your eyes and let yourself fall backwards and your partner had to catch you, and they'd play silly games and pretend that they were baby penguins.
At least Wes hopes that's why he's doing it. "I have moved on. No Smooth Ride - Sandrine Shaw (Sandrine) - Common Law. Lunch Break - itemfinder - Common Law. "I believe in stopping work and eating lunch. " -- L'Wren Scott Costume Designer Travis's desktop was temporarily clear from its usual clutter — most of which was now on the floor near his desk, or carefully sprawling over into Wes's space. He had laid down a spread of paper towels and was most of the way through constructing a meatball sandwich. A sub roll, meatballs, a little extra sauce, cheese, and a gentle sprinkle of basil. Wes was idly clicking through a few news blogs, not really looking for anything in particular.
"You know," Travis said, carefully pressing the bread flat, "I'm pretty sure the food is the best thing about dating you. " "Okay, first: no, it isn't. " "M'jusayin," Travis said through a mouthful of bread, and gestured with his free hand. "Travis! "Yeah, yeah, work-appropriate, whatever. " Wes glanced over, clearly amused by the reluctant way Travis was pushing around the lettuce. "I'd rather we both live past retirement," Wes said, using his fork to stir up the dressing. Midnight Confessions - engel82 - Common Law. The Quiet Times - heavy_cream - Common Law. This work could have adult content. If you proceed you have agreed that you are willing to see such content. If you accept cookies from our site and you choose "Proceed", you will not be asked again during this session (that is, until you close your browser).
If you log in you can store your preference and never be asked again. Tags Summary It wasn't the sex but the quiet times in between the sex that Wes had a hard time dealing with. Language: English Words: 968 Chapters: 1/1 Comments: 4 Kudos: 131 Bookmarks: 10 Hits: 1867. The Friday Night Boys - pyrodynamo - Common Law. Like most of the cases they’re on together, tiny things start going wrong along the way until they’re this close to having the entire plan derailed- “It’s not even me this time,” Travis mutters, obnoxiously unrepentant, and Wes hisses, “Of course it was,” back- and that’s when shit hits the fan.
The suspect draws first blood, or, at least, he tries. The shots that go off overhead aren’t a threat because of the car they’re hunkered behind, but that fact stopped holding true the moment Travis decided it was Time To Wing The Plan Again. “Oh, for-” Wes feels dangerously close to repeating the whole incident that got them suspended and thrown into therapy to begin with. “Travis, fucking get down-” “We can’t be sitting ducks for another hour,” Travis yells, taking two potshots and crouching down just as another barrage of shots takes itself out on the car’s sideview mirror. He does. Travis glances at him, and Wes nods.
The resounding ricochet and cry that earns them means he didn’t miss. Little More Touch Me - joidianne4eva - Common Law. This work could have adult content. If you proceed you have agreed that you are willing to see such content. If you accept cookies from our site and you choose "Proceed", you will not be asked again during this session (that is, until you close your browser). If you log in you can store your preference and never be asked again. Tags Summary For this prompt over on the Common Law Meme: "Anything with bottom! Come on, baby, don't be like that - pageleaf - Common Law. “Hi, Wes!” Some girl says on Monday morning. Wes gives her a tight-lipped smile as she walks by. “Hi, Travis,” she continues, voice dropping down half an octave, eyes lidding. Wes watches resignedly as Travis smiles widely. “Hey, what’s up, Lena?” The girl—Lena, evidently—beams and continues on her path.
Travis spins around in his chair to face Wes, shit-eating grin still firmly in place. Wes narrows his eyes and turns his back. Wednesday afternoon sees them back at counseling, playing “What’s In Your Pocket” again. “Still my badge,” Wes says. “Still my wallet and badge,” Travis says. “Oh,” Wes says. Travis frowns at the keys in his hand. “Here,” Wes says, as they trade. Travis smirks at him.
After counseling, Wes says. Travis laughs. “I’m not your boyfriend,” Wes points out reasonably. “No,” Travis says. “Hey, Kathy,” Travis says. “No,” Kathy says, “why?” Travis smirks and points at Wes. “This time,” Wes says, something tensing in the pit of his stomach. Kathy grins at them. “Can you stop?” Build Me Up, Buttercup - elven_enchantress - Common Law. It’s Monday morning, and there’s a lily of the valley on his desk. Eight o’clock though, so the two idiots are still on their Dunkin Donuts trip, and haven’t been in yet—not their work.
Too subtle for them, even if his gardening is a constant source of mockery. He approaches the plant with caution, and rubs some sanitizer between his palms absently before glancing at the tag attached to the pot. For Alex is scrawled on the purple slip of paper, and Wes scowls, turns around to see Travis grinning down at the incident report he’s writing. “You’re not allowed to hit on my ex-wife, I thought we went over this.” Travis swivels around, tapping his pen against the desk. His tone is completely without inflection, innocent to a fault. “Which would be why you’ve been watering the lawn and trimming the shrubs for the past week?” “The lawn needs a lot of attention. “So how exactly did you work out the custody settlement over your grass, again?” Wes scowls and pointedly ignores the plant. “I just. Oh.