Citrus and Cherries

Breathing in deeply Sheridan felt her muscles relax as she took a moment to take notice of her surroundings. Dirt and grime cover the floor beneath her feet as she cast dark brown eyes around the interior of the warehouse; broken windows filtered in what little sunlight they could, splashing color in chaotic patterns across collapsed beams and overturned chairs.

Wrinkling her nose as she breathed the killer resisted the urge to sigh as the dry scent of old concrete and mildew mixed together unpleasantly, invoking the desire to sneeze. This was not her ideal location to do her work but beggars could not be choosers. At least that was what Mother had often said. Grimacing in remembrance of her now gone mum Sheridan turned her back on the warehouse to gather her charge up into her arms.

Grunting slightly as she rose, staggering to maintain her footing the ex-cop looked around once more before settling on an old plastic table. Glancing down at the woman in her arms Sheridan felt a smile tug at the corner of her lips at the sight of blonde hair and full lips. Unable to resist the young killer buried her nose against the woman's neck as she carried her – citrus and cherries.

Just like Coldrach.

Happiness swelled inside of Sheridan as she reached the table, boots crunching against broken glass to add a nice bit of noise to the otherwise stale building. As gently as she could Sheridan lowered the unconscious woman to the table, hesitating a moment as it groaned in protest before conceding to the extra weight. Biting down on her bottom lip the red head reached out to brush slim fingers across a curved jaw, tears misting her eyes.

When she had seen her on the street she had almost believed the illusion that it was her love walking so casually towards her. It had only taken a moment though for her to realize the eyes were wrong, and the build not as light. Smiling wistfully Sheridan shrugged off her jacket, carelessly letting it drop to the floor to release a puff of stale dust into the air. The sight had brought her to a standstill though, her heart pounding as the woman drew closer. She had almost turned away though, when she realized it was not her Sage but then the woman had passed her – she smelled just like her. It had sent her heart aching.

She hadn't been able to resist when she that beautiful scent had wafted over her – cherries and citrus. Coldrach loved that perfume. Sheridan had given it to her for their two year anniversary and the Lieutenant and had worn it every day.  

Even mixing with the stagnant air of the warehouse the scent was simply… tantalizing. Biting down on a plump lower lip the young killer began to roll up her sleeves, never letting her gaze stray from her new model. Smoldering fire burned in her lower belly, slowly making its way to the center of her sex.

Coldrach had made a point to always wear the perfume at night when she had wanted to drive Sheridan crazy with need. It had to be a sign.

Feeling her lips curl up into a wolfish grin the ex-cop braced her hands on either side of the woman who looked so much like her love and slowly hoisted herself up on the rickety table. The metal joints creaked but continued to hold. Leaning down she pressed her lips against the woman's neck, feeling the pulse slowly quicken as she began to come out of her stupor. Breathing in deep Sheridan shuddered with need, citrus and cherries washing over her to cloud her thoughts. It was like being on the drug again.

She was going to enjoy this.