Anything recognisable doesnt belong to me. Written for ufp13 on livejournal.
Sharon Raydor tapped her pen aimlessly between her fingers to the rhythm of the ticking wall clock and stared into the empty space of her office. It had been a fairly slow morning for FID, consisting of only one minor complaint for excessive use of force which was easily cleared up by one of the other detectives of her squad, leaving her to simply sign off on the report before handing it over to the chief.
Glancing down at the completed report on her smooth wooden desk, she attempted to read the final conclusions only to find that she was repeating the same sentence. One that she was fairly certain she had already read three times before. With a frustrated groan she leaned back in her chair and stared at the ceiling. 'What the hell is wrong with me today?' she griped to herself. She couldn't remember the last time she had had so much trouble concentrating, but she was fairly sure she knew the cause.
She had been finding herself more and more unfocused lately, and it was all because of a walking, talking distraction with silver hair and chocolate eyes who had somehow managed to charm his way past her defences with secretive glances, impossibly romantic overtures, followed by the most wonderful dates she had ever been on, and a smile that made her weak at the knees, 'how very cliché of me' she sat up straight and ran her fingers through her hair, 'I sound like a lovesick sixteen year old after the captain of the football team!'
She bit her lower lip and forced her eyes back down to the report, half concentrating on the words and their meaning while the other half of her brain went off on a tangent. 'How on earth does he have this effect on me? He's rude, arrogant, always getting into trouble, makes me want to tear my hair out he's so infuriating!' she violently turned the page of the report and winced when it nearly ripped, 'but ohmygod the sex-' she felt the beginnings of a blush and cut off her train of thought with an exasperated huff, repressing the urge to bang her head off her desk in case any of her squad in the bullpen saw.
She was pretty sure they already thought she was losing her mind, especially when she came into work wearing a smile that could challenge the width of the Grand Canyon, 'Hell, I might as well just carry a flashing neon sign advertising the fact I'm getting some!' she grimaced at her crude thoughts and went back to the report, giving a sigh of relief as she finally reached the bottom, signing her name with a flourish and a victorious smile.
Just as she was putting the cap back on her pen she heard a light knock on her office door. The door opened slowly and was closely followed by a mop of shaggy blonde hair that she had been trying to convince the owner to have cut for weeks, "Hey Cap, we're goin' for lunch now, wanna come?" Jonathan, the youngest of her squad (and though she would never admit it, her favourite) flashed his trademark boyish smile and stepped unobtrusively into her office.
Looking through the window of her office into the bullpen she could see the rest of the squad milling around waiting for Jonathan, and possibly her, to join them. Turning her attention back to Jonathan she smiled lightly at his expectant expression, "Not today, Johnny. I've got some work I need to finish up." She saw a flicker of disappointment in his blue eyes that quickly disappeared, and she knew he was going to ask if she wanted company, "You guys go ahead." She continued quickly, knowing that if he got the chance he would insist on staying with her and helping out, an unfortunate by-product (at least to her at that moment) of his Texan upbringing.
He dipped his head and the smile returned to his face, "Yes ma'am" he drawled, and just for a second she could imagine him dressed as the cowboy he had been at the Halloween party she had hosted the year before.
When he didn't leave immediately, Sharon pasted a mock glare on her face and pointed at the door. Johnny chuckled and spun on his heel and shut it behind him. Sharon leaned back comfortably in her chair and watched them leave, feeling slightly guilty that she didn't actually have any work to do. It wasn't that she didn't enjoy going out for lunch with her squad, being internal affairs and practically outcasts from the rest of the department had made them a tight-knit bunch, she just didn't feel like refereeing the constant bickering that had seemed to be have become something of a hobby between her detectives.
She sat staring at the empty space in the bullpen where her detectives had just been, already mildly regretting her decision not to go with them. Those regrets however, were quickly replaced by thoughts of her new distraction. Smirking to herself, she picked up the phone and dialled the number which had fast become more familiar to her than her own.
"Yeah, Flynn" greeted her and she couldn't help but smile at his brusque manner.
"Good afternoon, Lieutenant." She replied smoothly, allowing her voice to take on only a slightly husky note. She could hear a light chuckle on the other end of the line that immediately sent a flash a heat through her.
Up in the murder room, Flynn glanced around inconspicuously to see if anyone had their attention fixed on him, paying close attention to Provenza who was notorious for eavesdropping on his private conversations. "What can I do for you?" he purposefully kept his voice business-like, on the off chance that Provenza wasn't really asleep.
Sharon instantly understood his predicament and so restrained herself from making any comments that would make him uncomfortable and draw the attention of his team members; he had been less than impressed the last time she had called him and hadn't been very subtle about her amorous intentions, "How do you feel about you taking me out for lunch?"
Hiding a smile behind his hand, Flynn glanced around again. From the sounds of the snoring, Provenza was most definitely asleep and everyone else had their heads firmly buried in their work, "That sounds like a very good idea. I take it this is a matter of some importance?" he said in a taunting tone.
Sharon grinned at his teasing and twisted a stray lock of hair through her fingers, "You have no idea, Lieutenant." This time she did nothing to discourage her arousal from colouring her voice. If it would make him want to visit her sooner then she was more than willing to play dirty. She giggled to herself when she heard him cough.
Flynn gently adjusted the collar of his shirt and smiled as he listened to her laugh. He loved her laugh; it was one of his favourite things about her, her laugh, her hair; threading his fingers through the thick mane as he kissed her, her legs; wrapped around him as they-
Flynn clamped down on his meandering brain and bit back a groan, "Oh I think I do." He practically growled into the phone before abruptly hanging up and going to tell the Chief he was going for lunch.
Sharon laughed aloud again when the dial tone met her ear, 'Well, I'd say that got his attention.' She mused to herself and carefully set the phone back in its cradle before moving around the office to close the blinds, isolating her from any prying eyes.
Flynn had to make himself walk at a socially acceptable pace to get to the elevators, which was quickly followed by controlling the impatient energy that was flowing through him and making him tap his foot in anticipation. If anybody in the elevator with him had been paying attention, they may simply of thought him nervous about a meeting in FID. They had no idea.
Stepping into the FID bullpen, he was pleased to see that it was empty and walked on autopilot to Sharon's office, shucking his suit jacket and loosening his tie as he went, smirking at the closed blinds. He didn't bother to knock on the door and waltzed into the room, grinning wildly when he saw Sharon leaning flirtatiously against her desk.
Making sure the door was locked behind him, Flynn threw his jacket onto the small loveseat in the corner of the office and gestured for her to come closer, to which she readily complied, draping her arms around his shoulders, pressing her face into the crook of his neck and breathing in his cologne.
As Sharon began peppering small kisses along his jaw, Flynn started working on the tiny, complicated buttons of her shirt, "How do you want me?" Sharon breathed, "Wall? Floor? Desk…" she punctuated each option with a kiss.
With a frustrated grunt, Flynn gave up on her shirt and moved onto her skirt, "As long as its with you, I don't care." He said shortly, succeeding in prising the zipper on the side of her skirt down and pushing the material off her hips.
Sharon gave a low hum of approval, "good answer," she murmured as she reached to cup his face with her hands and pull him down for a deep, bruising kiss. When their lungs began to burn for oxygen, Flynn gently pulled away and caressed her swollen lips with his thumb.
Sharon softly kissed the pad, "If we're doing this you might want to make it quick." She grinned at him as her hands trailed lazily down his chest and worked on getting rid of his belt.
With a predatory gleam in his dark eyes, Flynn pulled her too him and scooped her up. On instinct Sharon wrapped her legs around his waist and flung her hand out as he placed her on her desk, pushing pens and loose papers to the floor. Once he was sure she wasn't going to fall off, Flynn quickly removed his trousers and boxers, acutely aware that they were losing time before people started coming back to the bullpen after their quick lunches.
Seeing Sharon flushed with arousal, he bent forward and captured her lips again while awkwardly lifting her so she could remove her panties. The resulting movements sent Sharon giggling against Flynn's lips while he huffed in frustration, "This isn't working," he groaned.
Sharon placed her hands on his chest and gently pushed him back so she could stand. She giggled again at his wounded expression and sashayed over to the wall, crooking her finger and smiling seductively at him. Flynn laughed when he noticed she was still wearing her heels and followed her like she had some kind of magnetic pull over him.
Pushing her against the wall, he took her leg and held him against his waist, lightly stroking the smooth skin with his thumb. He groaned as he felt her cool hand guide him to her, whispering her name in her ear like a prayer as he slowly, gently pushed into her.
Sharon gasped as he filled her and snaked her hand underneath his shirt and around his back as she tried to pull him closer. She squeezed herself languidly around him to show she was ready and nuzzled her face against his neck, gently nipping the tender area and soothing it with her tongue as he began to move, setting a fast pace.
The office was filled with the sounds of collective gasps and moans, the occupants breathing each other's names unable to formulate any other words until Flynn felt Sharon tense against him before relaxing into the rhythm of her climax. Not wanting to leave him behind, Sharon gently scored her nails down his back in the way she had discovered drove him insane, biting the soft skin of his neck hard as she did so.
The sensation of pain morphing into pleasure of too much for him to take and he quickly followed her into blissful oblivion, giving her a small smile as she whispered comforting words in his ear and caressed his back. Settling her carefully back on her feet, he kept her close for a few minutes longer, pressing tender kisses across her face while she composed herself.
Releasing herself from his grasp she stooped to collect her clothes, smiling warmly as he watched every movement. Pulling her skirt into place she turned to face him, hands on her hips and a mischievous twinkle in her green eyes.
"Now we can move onto the matter of importance." She said sincerely, biting back a laugh as he frowned and cocked his head to the side, gesturing wildly with his hands.
"That wasn't it?" he said incredulously.
Sharon smirked and handed him his boxers, "Perhaps I meant the other matter of importance."
Flynn seemed momentarily relieved as he redressed himself and straightened his shirt and tie before attempting to flatten his mussed hair, "Which is?"
Sharon stepped forward and brushed some of the errant strands of silver hair back into place, "You taking me to lunch." When a look a pure disbelief crossed his features Sharon shrugged and adjusted his tie, "What? I'm famished."