TITLE: Friday Night Spontaneous

AUTHOR: Julian Lee

EMAIL: thwarted1066@yahoo.com

URL: http://geocities.com/thwarted1066/index.html

FANDOM: Law & Order: SVU

PAIRING: Munch/Finn

RATING: PG

DISCLAIMER: I'm not Dick Wolf or NBC, so I don't own these guys.

ARCHIVE: Yes to list archives; others please ask.

SUMMARY: But, oh, he moves *fast* when he needs to.

NOTES: Another blasted 5-minute challenge response. Please, someone stop me before I fic again! For Perpet, my companion on this dark, dark road.

Friday Night Spontaneous
by Julian Lee

"The problem with you--"

Munch crosses his ankles on the arm of the couch and waits. Another Friday night sitting in his living room reviewing case files with Finn. Fantastic. "This should be good."

Finn is settled on the floor in front of the couch, up by Munch's head, and he turns slightly to look his partner in the eye. "The problem with you is that you got no spontenaity."

Munch's pencil falls into his lap. "*That's* the problem with me?"

Finn nods sagely, like he's the hoary old wise woman at the edge of the goddamned forest or something. "Look around you, man. When was the last time you did anything that wasn't planned 'bout a month ahead?"

Munch shakes his head. "I'm a cop, Finn; attention to detail is what keeps me from getting myself shot. And I recall it's kept *you* from getting shot on an occasion or two."

"Yeah, yeah." Finn is dismissive. "That's great for work, but what about your personal life?"

Munch raises an eyebrow. "What do you know about my personal life?"

"I know you ain't got one."

"Funny man," he says with a snort. "I do fine for myself."

"Uh-huh."

"I don't know what delusions you're operating under, Finn, but you are not SVU's reigning expert on John Munch."

"Close enough. Who else spends as much time with your sorry ass as I do?" Finn shakes his head. "You're set in your ways. That's all I'm saying."

Finn goes back to his file, and Munch stares at the back of his head. "I need to be more spontaneous?" Finn nods. Munch leans forward. He can't say where this imp inside of him has come from. "Are you *sure* about that?"

Finn turns to look at him, an annoyed frown forming a V between dark eyes. "Yeah, John, I'm sure. What's your problem now?"

In one motion, Munch drops his feet to the floor, leans forward, wraps a hand around the back of Finn's head, and kisses him hard. For a moment, Finn is frozen against him, disbelieving. Then he relaxes into it, one hand coming up to rest on Munch's knee.

When Munch pulls away, he's grinning, and Finn makes a noise that definitely sounds disappointed. "What the *fuck,* John."

Munch strokes his thumb over the pulse point behind his partner's ear. Finn closes his eyes and shivers a little. "That spontaneous enough?" Eyes still shut tight, Finn nods.

"Good," Munch whispers, drawing his hand away. "So get back to the case and back off."

He returns his feet to the arm of the couch and picks up his folder. Finn says something that might be, "Son of a bitch," and Munch laughs softly, letting his hand return casually to the back of Finn's neck. Another Friday night sitting in his living room reviewing case files with Finn.

Fantastic.

END