Title: The Mile High Club

Author: gagewhitney

Rating: M

Pairing: Danny/Mindy

Disclaimer: Very much not mine.

Summary: "Are you getting what I'm saying? Help me. In the bathroom."

Note: Something to fit in between the scene on the plane and the scene in their office. (And, okay, I'm not sure how great or smart an experience this would actually be, but whatever.) Also, hey, my first piece of smut for this fandom!

Morgan's crying out for her pitifully, and to be honest, it's the absolute last thing she really needs at this moment.

She rubs her forehead. "I don't know, Morgan. Find the flight attendant, maybe?" Mindy waves her hand toward the front of the plane. "I don't know, I think she went that way."

"Ugh. Oh, God," he moans, and staggers out of his seat, barf bag in hand. "My sea legs…"

With Morgan off to find help and Jeremy still asleep against the window, she turns back to Danny and finds him sneaking a glance at her. He looks freaked out and nervous, fidgeting with his fingers, and there's something else in his expression, too, lurking just underneath the surface.

She can't look away from him, for some reason, and it seems like he can't, either, his eyes boring into hers with an intensity she can't remember ever seeing before. His gaze drops to her mouth and lingers for a long moment before sliding downward still, and Mindy finds herself biting down on her bottom lip in response.


He drags his eyes back up to hers. "Hmm?"

His voice sounds drowsy, almost dazed, and for some reason that does it for her, a warm, fizzy, anxious feeling starting deep in her gut. She leans in closer, her right arm stretched along the divider.

"Danny, I think I'm feeling kind of sick, too."

"Oh." He sits up in his seat, suddenly concerned, and his brow furrows. "Are you okay?"

She jerks her thumb backwards. "Yeah, I think maybe I'm just going to head back to the bathroom." She waits a beat and then asks, "Would you come and… help me out?"

He makes a face. "What?"

"In the bathroom, Danny. Would you –" She drops her voice. "Are you getting what I'm saying? Help me. In the bathroom."

For a few seconds, he still looks confused, so she discreetly shifts her leg until her ankle rubs slowly against his. She raises an eyebrow, and his eyes go wide.

"What ar – oh. Oh! Uh." He stammers, and she's pretty sure that the turbulence shook something loose in her head because she thinks it's adorable. "Yeah. Yes. Let's… I'll help you."

Nodding her head, she rises from her seat and puts on a show in case anyone happens to be watching – one hand on her stomach, the other at her mouth. She walks quickly toward the lavatories, Danny hot on her heels with a hand at her back.

There are, thankfully, a few unoccupied rooms, and she raises her voice slightly and says, "Danny, please. I'm going to be sick! Please come in and hold my hair."

"Okay," he says numbly, letting her go in ahead of him.

She pulls him into the little room with her and pushes him back against the door, effectively closing it. Danny reaches back blindly to slide the lock shut, never taking his eyes off of her as she stands with her feet in between his.

"This is a horrible idea," she says, scanning his face.

He nods. "Yep," he agrees, and his voice is doing that low, growly thing it does again.

Mindy responds by throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him full on the lips. She presses her body up against his, her breasts flattened against his chest, and Danny groans and grips her hips, slipping his hands underneath her shirt to rub at her skin.

"We have to be quiet," she whispers against his lips.

"Mm-hmm," he agrees.

"And we have to be fast."

"I can be fast. I mean, not too fast, not like –"

She kisses him again to shut him up, scraping her nails along the back of his neck. He deepens the kiss, grabbing a fistful of her hair in the process, and there's a moment where she almost wants to stop and marvel at the fact that holy crap, Danny Castellano's tongue is in her mouth.

Then he shifts and bites down gently on her bottom lip, and every rational thought leaves her head because he's sucking her lip into his mouth and tugging her hair back. His lips move downward, trailing kisses across her chin and jaw, and he nips along the exposed column of her throat.

Mindy shivers at his touch and feels him laugh against her skin. She decides it's probably his turn, and lets her hands slide down the front of his shirt to make quick work of his belt buckle.

He's half hard when she unzips his jeans and palms him, pushing her thumb across the head of his cock. He lets out a strangled whimper into the side of her neck when she curls her hand around his base and starts to pump up and down.

She leans up and kisses underneath his jaw, sucking on his neck while her hand moves steadily over his erection. She moves up to bite his ear, and he suddenly pulls her hand away. He's breathing hard, and she's a little proud of herself.

"Take your pants off," he says in a low growl, and it's enough to make her weak at the knees.

She glances down at her lower half and then around the small room. "Oh God," she mutters. "How do people do this?"

He huffs, frustrated. "I don't – Get on the sink, maybe."

She twists around and makes a face. "Ew, it's wet…"

"Here," he says, and uses his sleeve to quickly wipe the surface dry. "Better?"

"Actually, yeah."

They maneuver themselves until she's able to sit on the sink and lean slightly backwards, her head against the mirror. Danny puts himself between her knees and runs his hands up her legs, frowning.

"Why are you wearing pants?" He picks at the fabric. "You never wear pants!"

She starts moving her hips, trying to get them off. "I was trying to be comfortable on the plane, Danny!"

"Shh!" He steps away slightly and hooks his fingers in her yoga pants and underwear, sliding them both quickly over her hips and down her legs. He immediately gets himself between her legs again, smoothing his hands up and down her thighs.

"Nice move," she says.

"Thanks." He shifts forward, and her breath hitches as he begins to press into her. "We good?"

She nods. "Yeah."

She pulls him closer, sliding her arms around his neck to kiss him again. He thrusts himself inside of her and they both gasp, their lips centimeters apart.

He leans his forehead against hers. "Fuck."

"Danny –"

He pulls out and slams back into her hard, her head bumping up against the mirror at her back.

"Holy crap," she gasps, and he does it again, digging his fingers into the underside of her thighs.

It is not comfortable, with the counter still kind of damp and digging into her skin and the way the two of them barely fit in the tiny room, Danny with one leg up on the closed toilet for leverage.

It's so, so good, though, when he drives in and out of her like the plane really is about to crash, and he's got one hand up her shirt and the other rubbing along her hip and thigh. Mindy's got a hand in the back of his hair, pulling hard enough that she thinks it might hurt, but he just grunts against her lips and kisses her sloppily.

Her legs start to shake under him, and he pushes deeper and faster into her, moves his thumb to rub circles between her legs, and she falls apart around him, her hands gripping his shoulders, her mouth a perfect oval under the harsh fluorescent lights.

He covers her mouth with his to mask her gasps and low moans, still moving inside of her. A few more messy thrusts and he's done, too, biting down on her neck with a groan when he comes.

She doesn't allow them to bask in the afterglow for long – it's an airplane bathroom, for God's sake, and she really doesn't need to get arrested twice in one year – so she taps his shoulder when their breathing begins to slow.

"Hey." She shifts her hips. "Um, we have to go."

Danny pulls away, his expression dazed as he stares down at her. He nods and bends down to retrieve her pants, tossing them in her lap, before he pulls his own jeans up and begins to get everything back in order.

"So, um…"

"Near death experiences!" she says, a little too enthusiastically. "Am I right?"

"Um… yeah."

"So I think we should just…" She waves her hand between their bodies and hopes he gets the point. "You know."

He nods slowly. "Okay."

"I mean, this was just… adrenaline." She curls her fingers around her pants. "We're not… that's not…"

"Yeah, you're…" He lets out a breath and puts his hands on his hips. "Yeah."

"Okay." She smiles brightly at him. "Um, I think you should go first. Just…" She gestures down at her half-naked self. "I need a couple minutes."

"Right." He frowns slightly and nods.

Mindy scans his face and hopes he's not starting to freak out. "Are you okay?"

"I'm good," he nods, echoing his earlier statement. "I'm good."

"Good. So I'll see you back at our seats?"


They stare at each other for a long, pregnant moment, and things are on the verge of becoming awkward when she starts to giggle, a high, lilting noise into the palm of her hand, and a crooked grin stretches across his face.

He chuckles. "Hands down, best conference ever."