Mac's voice had risen two octaves in the last thirty seconds, and Will sighed and reached into his desk drawer. He let her rant and lit a cigarette.
"And I can't belieeeeeve," she stretched the word out, hands fluttering in the air somewhere around her face, as if she wanted to grab her hair and pull it out, "that you took out your earpiece again. That's like the fifth time this week and we only do five shows!"
Will's focus was on the ember that glowed as he inhaled. He enjoyed when she got irate like this, and he suspected she knew it, but couldn't help herself. They had fallen into a pathological co-dependence on annoying one another. He wasn't sure what she got out of it, he had certainly been mean enough to her that there must be something he was overlooking, but for him it had turned out to be a way to get the nervous energy out, get the itch dealt with. He might be obtuse and he might be arrogant, but he was also self-aware enough to see this all for what it was. And Dr Habib might have helped a little. She could wind him up and set him spinning in all the right ways, and he needed to punish her for still being able to do that to him after everything.
He saw the last of the staff slink out, trying not to listen to Mac as she continued to berate him for various and sundry things he didn't care about. The colour was high in her cheeks, and the top button of her shirt had come undone revealing an extra inch and a half of skin. Her tank top had ridden down and he could see the vaguest hint of a lacy bra peeking out. He subconsciously reached for his earpiece, but he couldn't make her stop this time.
Monday, the first day he had done it, they weren't fighting and she wasn't being antagonistic or smart with him. She'd been calm and professional and a little affectionate, and Will had experienced a powerful flashback to Before. Her soft voice had traveled through his ears, making contact with a particularly racy memory long buried away, and continued on direct to his groin. For the sake of his concentration he had yanked out the earpiece and finished the segment in blessed silence. She had been concerned but not upset the first time. By Friday he couldn't blame it on mysterious technical difficulties any more, and she was mad as hell. And here she was, pushing all his good buttons without any idea at all.
He rose and came around the desk, flipping the light switch and coming over to her.
"What are you doing?" her voice was still strident. "You need to tell me what's going on. I thought we'd finally-"
He put a finger to his lips and she paused mid-sentence.
"Here," Will took up her hand and placed the cigarette in it. "Smoke my cigarette and hush."
Taking her off guard was one of his favourite things. If he could make her completely scatter, that was even better. He took in the sight now, her standing wide-eyed and slightly slack-jawed, the cigarette burning idly in her slender fingers, and the welling of feeling caused him to bite his lip.
She didn't miss that, and her eyes narrowed. He saw the cogs turn behind her gaze, and slowly she brought the cigarette to her mouth and took a long drag. She savoured the smoke for a second, breathed it out slowly.
"So." She still eyed him cagily.
"So." Will returned. He let the silence mature, saw her absorb his non-verbal cues, knew she was coming around when her shoulders relaxed infinitesimally and she took another hit off the cigarette.
"I'm going to kiss you now," he said and she handed him back the cigarette, which he stubbed out in the ashtray on his desk.
"That'd be a good start." Her voice, pitched low, reached its intended target. He'd been hiding his 'affections' behind the news desk all week, and pretending to finish up notes while waiting for his incessant hard-on to go down long enough to escape to his office. He reached for her now and was gratified and relieved when her hunger seemed to match his. He pressed his mouth almost cruelly to hers, felt her tongue slip against his and her small noise of pleasure tipped him over the edge.
"Oh god, Mac." His breath hitched as her hands traveled his back and shoulders, exploring, cupping his face and pulling him tighter to her. He reached around and pulled her close, closer, pressing his erect length to her belly. She sighed into his kiss and returned the embrace, hands at his backside and unashamedly moving against him.
It was Mac who made the move towards his desk, swiping a few objects out of the way and sitting on the edge, kicking off her shoes and pulling him towards her. He had had what seemed like a whole week of foreplay, and he wondered how she had put up with more than a year of this. He parted her knees, pushed up her skirt and pulled her against him once more. How far would she let him take this? He wanted to tear all of her clothes off, to hell with any unfortunate janitor out there. When she reached for his trousers and freed his straining hard-on, he couldn't help the groan it drew from deep inside, but was silenced when her fingers closed around him and stroked him eagerly. All his attentions froze momentarily as his mind reeled with the pleasure, realising he was finally turning a corner. This wasn't just sex.
"Come on, Will," she was saying, breathily, and he snapped back into the moment. While he fumbled in his wallet for a condom, she divested herself of her underwear with a grace and speed he admired briefly, and then her fingertips were digging into his hips, pulling him to her. Their lips hovered in an almost kiss, breath mingling noisily as he reached between her legs to stroke her, finding her more than ready. He dipped a finger, then two, into her slickness, allowed his thumb to graze her and she jumped. Please, she breathed.
He felt her fingers guiding him and then the sensation of being inside her again drove all thought from his mind but the here and now. She rocked against him as he moved, his face dipped to her shoulder, eyes tight shut and lost in the mix of tender feeling and anxious desire. He felt her inch closer to the edge of the desk, her thighs at his waist now, as she encouraged him deeper, harder. To relieve his knees of the half-bent stance the low desk forced him into, he briefly stood, lifting her bodily, feeling her sink down fully on him. She cried out once, twice and then her breath caught and he felt her muscles tighten around his cock and she shakily exhaled long and low. Will lowered her back to the tabletop and pushed her down on her back, leaning over and driving into her firm and deliberate. Over and over he thrust into her, rapt by her expressions of excitement and pleasure-pain, the earnest pleading of her eyes when they locked with his to never, never stop. She spasmed around him again and he was done, the cry wrenched rough from his throat, and his mouth found hers as he rode out his climax.
She didn't want to let him up, but this desk was awkward and they were not young. She settled for trailing a hand down his chest as he rose and then slumped against him as he helped her sit up. When he embraced her without reserve or tension, Mac almost wept with relief. They detached clumsily and as Will righted himself, Mac afforded him a small privacy by reaching for his cigarettes and lighting two. She handed him one when he turned back to her, shimmied her skirt back down over her hips and dared a small smile.
"So that happened." She said, softly. He leaned against the desk next to her.
"Yeah it did." She heard the hint of a grin in his voice as he playfully bumped her with his shoulder. They remained close, smoked their cigarettes in companionable silence. When Will offered her a ride home after, Mac worried about moving too fast for a split-second or so. She found his hands and lips could be very persuasive, however, and mentally cleared her calendar for the weekend.