FIC: Therapy (Higher Ground, Shelby/Juliette, R)

Title: Therapy
Author: aphrodite_mine
Summary: During the ‘Juliette gets lost in a cave’ episode (sorry to spoil it, dudes). My version of Shelby’s “therapy” session. This doesn’t require any real background on the series, but if you want to know, just ask and I’ll tell!
Fandom: Higher Ground (it aired on Fox Family in 2000, good luck finding it now)
Pairing: Shelby/Juliette

I step into the room, knowing what I’ll see once I turn the corner. Sure enough, it’s still Juliette, lying on her side, pretending to sleep while she sulks and lets everyone else pick up the slack while she fakes being so overcome with emotion for a pile of bones that she absolutely cannot move. “Juliette, I know you aren’t sleeping. You might as well roll over or something, because I know what you’re doing.” I roll my eyes and sigh when she refuses to move. This is going to take some drastic measures, I can tell.
I cross the room in a couple of steps and stand over her bed for a moment. She’s breathing slowly, her chest rising and her hands clutched around some stuffed animal. Her eyes are shut tight but not too tight. She’s good. “Juliette,” I say, stretching her name out with a smile. “I’m not going anywhere until you talk to me.” Hoping to surprise her, I plop down on the bed next to her, one hand on either side of her body, my weight sinking into the bed. She doesn’t move. I begin to think that maybe she actually bored herself to sleep.
“Seriously, Jules. I’m about to take drastic measures here. All it will take is a few words and I’ll be out of here…” I lean in close, listening for any changes in her breathing. It’s too light for her to be sleeping, but otherwise, she’s steady. “I suppose we don’t have to play easy.” A smirk slides across my lips and I slowly, gently pull the plush bear from her grip. Her fingers flex, and then slack. She’s not sure what to do, I can tell. I smile and toss the bear to the floor. “I think you’re too old to sleep with toys, Juliette.”
She’s still breathing evenly and not even fluttering her eyelids so I know I’m going to have to take this farther. All in one smooth motion, I push her over from her side onto her back and I straddle her hips with my own. I’m sure it’s as new a sensation for her as it is for me, because Juliette involuntarily clutches at her shirt a moment before releasing the fabric and resuming her act. “We both know you’re awake, Juliette. Why don’t you just talk to me, hmm?”
I watch her for a moment, the color starting to seep into her cheeks, her dark lashes still against them. She could almost be sleeping, really, except I’m no fool. “You can’t just… rot in here forever, you know.” I keep my eyes on her face as I speak, but my fingers seem to have their own method for making her speak. Slowly, slowly, I work up the edge of her shirt and trace feather-light swirls on her skin. She’s so small beneath me, I hold myself up with my legs so she’s not squished.
Her mouth parts, just slightly, at the touch, and she takes a deeper breath than before. “You have to talk to us, deal with what happened down there.” My hands are sliding further up her body, trying to ignore the bones that are apparent beneath the skin. My fingertips must be rough from the kitchen duty and the camping and her skin is incredibly smooth and warm.
Juliette’s eyelids flutter slightly. “Why are you touching me, Shelby?” Her voice finally comes out, light and barely there. Her body is strung out tight beneath mine; I can feel all of her muscles fighting to keep still, fighting not to give in.
I don’t know what I’m doing. My eyes on her mouth, I lick my lips and pull her shirt over her head, not without some assistance from her, I realize. “We should talk about what happened to you. You should talk to someone, Juliette.” Her hair is mussed from the static electricity transfer and now her eyes are open wide, pure brown staring right into mine. There is so much skin now, and I don’t know what I have done, but somehow my hands know what to do, and they slide up her beautiful stomach and embrace her breasts, groping them gently through her bra.
Her skin feels different from mine, her bra made out of different material, thinner. I can feel when her nipples harden under my thumbs, gliding back and fourth. When she moans, I can feel the air rushing through her lungs right under my fingertips, all through my body like a current passing through me.
She bites her lip, arcing her back. “Shelby,” she says my name and my breath starts to come a little faster. There should be more touching, our bodies should be closer, I think, and sink my hips into hers, smiling when her hands fly up to grasp tightly to the pillowcase under her head. “Mmm… maybe we should talk. I mean, I don’t know what we’re doing.”
She’s panting a little now; eyelids lowered, but open enough to watch me. “Oh, so now she wants to talk, hmm? And what, fair Juliette, shall we talk about?” I lift off her, shifting the weight back to my knees and removing my fingers from her glorious skin to cross my arms at my chest, ignoring that every instinct is telling me not to stop. I can still sense her body under the nerves of my hand, tingling.
“I didn’t mean…” She tugs a piece of her hair, looking distressed for a moment. “I don’t… don’t stop, Shelby. I only want to know what we’re doing.” Now she brings the strand of hair to her lips to chew on, plump pink against the dark strand.
“It’s called therapy, okay?” I manage to growl before lowering my body to hers again and attacking her lips with mine. Her hair gets tangled between out tongues. I snake my hand down the front of her pants, cupping the warmth from outside her panties, and when she gasps for air I tug the strand from harm’s way.
Her arm flails out, and she grabs me about the wrist where I’m touching her. I smile at the contact, watching her face as always, seeing her wide eyes and heaving chest. “Shelby,” she whispers in between breaths, grip tightening around my hand.
I smile to hear my name again from her mouth, so breathy. It makes my fingers tighten. “You’re a mess, you know,” I whisper, keeping my breath tight as I rub against her. “Everyone’s worried. Hannah even called in the cavalry.” I want to make her cry out how she must have cried out down in the cave. Her voice hoarse around my name.
“No one understands,” she manages, releasing her grip on my wrist, but clenching both fists full of her blanket. “You just don’t get it.”
It’s laughable really, what can be accomplished with my hand down her pants. I don’t laugh, though, I don’t even smile. Instead, I press her back down with a kiss, and she lets me. It makes me feel like I don’t even understand it myself, but I tug her panties aside and thrust inside her with two fingers and she gasps and everything tightens up inside me. “I get that you need to wake up, Juliette,” I say, pulling back, gingerly bringing my hand free and climbing off of her and the bed.
I can’t look in her eyes now, or mine, in the mirror as I wash my hands. I can see her in the reflection, sitting up and adjusting her clothes. “Why did you?”
“Don’t, Juliette.”
“I just wanted to make you better.” I shut the water off and turn, closing the heavy door behind me. Smiles for Hannah and Peter, yes, I worked the magic Shelby cure. Best therapy session ever.
I just… need one myself now.

About aphroditemine

Writer/editor, caregiver.
This entry was posted in 2007, femslash, fic, r and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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