A/N: the title says it all really. There's zero plot or character development (so not dissimilar to my other fics, I hear you say - ha ha). It's just my take on how Robson got naughty when they finally got together. Definitely give it a miss if you don't like reading gratuitous/superfluous/poorly written Robson naughties. Otherwise, I was bored, so I wrote it and... I hope you enjoy.

"I didn't know they were there!" Laura protested for the umpteenth time, as Robbie stood waiting for her outside the White Horse.

He grinned back at her, teasingly relaxed, tilting his head to regard her fully – this beautiful, confident woman that he had somehow managed to charm. He gestured towards the Sheldonian and she followed him across the road, feigning reluctance. Her cheeks were flushed pink with the embarrassment, but her smile was wide. As they reached the top of the steps, she felt the still-thrilling brush of his arm as he wrapped it around her shoulders. She looked up at his broad smile that portrayed relief that the case had finished, but also the sheer satisfaction of being with her. She reciprocated and wrapped her arm around his middle.

They proceeded in contented silence before he spoke, "So what are your plans for this evening, Dr Hobson?"

"I don't really have any. Do you?"

He smiled down at her mischievously. "Well, you know that thing that you'd been thinking about doing all day?"

Her cheeks flared red once again. "Yes…?"

"Well, there were some other things I was thinking about doing too."

Her smile widened, helplessly, as she stopped in her tracks and looked up at him. "Such as?"

He slid his hands beneath her jacket, the touch sending a rapid shiver down her spine despite the warm weather. He pulled her closer towards him, his voice low and gravelly in her ear. "Things you wouldn't do in a pub."

"Where would you do them?" She tilted her head to offer her neck to the gentle line of kisses that he had begun in her hair.

"Well, I'm not fussy… but as a matter of public decency, it should probably be in the privacy of your own home."

The breath caught in her throat as he pressed his lips more firmly into the hollow of her neck. They were behaving like school children, but somehow she didn't care. "Your place or mine?" She murmured, breathily.

"Yours is closer." He mumbled, between nuzzles. "And more likely to have something in the fridge for breakfast."

"Oi." She poked him hard in the ribs and he yelped. "That's very presumptuous, Inspector."

"Laura. I'm aware this is not exactly a gentlemanly thing to say, but…" he pressed her firmly against him and his voice almost rasped, "I can't wait any longer."

En route, they stopped at the supermarket to buy pizza for their supper, but, as it turned out, neither of them felt much like eating. Upon entering her hallway, Robbie shrugged off his suit jacket and hung it over the bannister. She placed her jacket on a hook under the stairs and turned back to face him, hands thrust a little nervously in her jeans pockets. Robbie wasn't looking at her hands because, through the thin material of her t-shirt, her chest had a different message to convey. Briefly he contemplated having her right there in the hallway – it would be over in seconds – but no, he wanted to make her wait.

It had been a long time since he'd felt like this, the carnal urge taking over, removing all shreds of emotion and doubt. He wanted her so badly he ached – in places that had long since been dormant. The sensation was driving him crazy: pushing from him all shreds of reservation, of gentlemanly platitudes and modesty. He felt a physical need to gratify her: to encounter the intimacy of her sounds, tastes and smells. Whereas she'd already treated him to little moans and gasps when they'd kissed, he knew that tonight he'd hear so much more. He couldn't wait a moment longer.

He went to her. "Laura." He almost felt the need to apologise for the way he was feeling. "I want you so badly I don't know what to say."

Her eyes blackened as she looked up at him, lips slightly parted. "Then don't say anything, Robbie." She smiled, lasciviously, before pressing herself deliberately up against him in order to snake her arms around his neck. He bent to kiss her and for the first time, she felt his tongue, hot and probing, in her mouth. This was not a gentlemanly kiss. She could sense the need he had moments ago been trying to express as his tongue forced her mouth further open and he kissed her, dirtily, urging her up against the wall, making no excuse for the swell in his trousers. Robert Lewis, you're a dark horse.

His hands lingered on her hips, before she felt a set of fingers slide under her t-shirt and rake up each side of her stomach, over her ribcage before swerving tantalizingly onto her back. The first faint gasp of frustration escaped her and Robbie made a mental note of it before withdrawing his hand. Her eyes flashed open in disappointment, only to feel him gently tugging her t-shirt over her head. She was glad she had, albeit a little presumptuously, worn an expensive midnight blue bra. She watched his face as his eyes gratifyingly surveyed his new find. However, the real discovery lay hidden and he hooked his fingertips roughly under the balcony of each cup, pulling down the lace to expose and force upwards her goose-pimpled flesh. He salivated as he looked at each taught nipple, before twisting one roughly between his thumb and finger. He then sank down to his knees in order to take the other firmly between his lips, pinching it gently between his teeth before sucking it, and as much of her breast as he could, noisily into his mouth. She yelped and he stopped to look up at her.

Realising she was not looking directly at him, he turned to follow her gaze behind them. He quickly established that she had been looking at herself, breasts exposed, in the large hall mirror. Something throbbed in his groin at the kick of her voyeurism. He stood and moved behind her, so that they were now both facing the mirror. She snaked an arm lazily up around his neck, her cheeks and chest clearly flushed with pink. He pressed his pelvis into her lower back and grunted slightly at the feel of her warm body against his hardness. She slipped her other hand behind her in the direction of his crotch, but he caught it. Something within him knew he couldn't last long like this and he needed her to be right there with him. He drew her hand upwards so it joined the other around his neck as she looked at him in the mirror, breasts and lips swollen with lust.

Shaking slightly, his hands returned to her nipples, massaging them more gently this time, using the traces of moisture his saliva had left. He watched her in the mirror, as she focused on his hands and then watched them intently as they ventured southwards, over her bare stomach, to rest on the waistband of her jeans. His thumb stroked the soft skin of her belly as he sensed her breathing quicken in anticipation. She leaned back against him, letting him take her weight, and shifted her feet to widen her stance. He understood the signal and purposefully reached for the button at the top of her flies. It came undone without fuss and slowly he undid the zip, exposing the lacy blue of her knickers. She wriggled slightly as he teased down her jeans, which fell obligingly by her ankles.

She could feel his heart thundering against his chest as she leaned against him, her arms still clasped around his neck as his hands roamed her exposed skin. He knew that she must be well aware of the state of his arousal, prodding so unapologetically as it was into her lower back, and he wondered idly whether this was reciprocated in her as he traced the outline of the dark blue lace encasing her hips. She shivered. His hands slid downwards over her crotch and, even through the lace, he felt the answer to his question. Her breath stuttered in her chest and he looked at her in the mirror. Her eyes were wide and dark, her lips parted in expectation, urging him silently onwards.

His right hand returned to the waistline and toyed maddeningly with the bow of her knickers. She shifted agitatedly and he smiled before slipping first his index finger, then all of his fingers down, under the lace and into the slight furl of her hair. She swallowed back a gasp and tried to recapture her breathing – it was disconcertingly exhilarating to find herself so exposed and so on edge with this man, whom she so loved, in her hallway. He made deliberate eye contact, as his finger slid downwards into the slick warmth between her legs, easily finding its way inside her. This time there was no stifling the moan that rose shamelessly in her throat. She closed her eyes and dug her fingernails into his neck, as he commenced a gentle slip-sliding rhythm with his fingers, her hips rocking gently towards him, as the tip of his thumb found the wet nub it sought. His other arm was clamped firmly across her chest, trapping her flesh, kneading her breast with his palm and catching an aching nipple between the knuckles of his splayed fingers. She regarded herself, braced firmly in his arms, tilting her crotch with increasing urgency against his hand in her knickers. She closed her eyes, utterly helpless to the delicious building of sensation that was swirling outwards from between her legs, sending out tingling ripples, which undulated with building pressure over her limbs. The exquisite ache of her orgasm began its initial pulsation in the insides of her thighs…

"Robbie…" She was vaguely aware of the repeated rasping of her breath, expressing a pain she certainly didn't feel, and the licentious tone of her voice as she whimpered his name.

For his part, Robbie was struggling to keep a grip on his senses. The mirrored sight in front of him, combined with the touch and feel of her writhing in his arms, was almost too much to bear. Perhaps he had been out of this game for too long, but he was so hard, he was almost worried that something was wrong.

"Stop…"

"What?" Surely she couldn't mean that. He thrust his fingers deeper inside her.

She squeezed shut her legs and withdrew his hand, turning in his arms to face him. She looked up at him with eyes that were dark and heedless. "I want you to be inside me…," she sucked on her lower lip – he'd never seen her like this, "…the first time you make me come."

He smiled at the coarseness of her language, trailing his hand down her back and into the wet warmth between her legs from behind.

Nonetheless, he was hesitant. "Laura… I'm not sure I'll last that long."

"Robbie…" She practically groaned into his shirt, "I guarantee you won't need to wait."

He withdrew his attentions and she released his tie and unbuttoned his shirt, pressing the still exposed flesh of her breasts against the skin of his chest. He sighed, "That feels so good."

"Not as a good as you'll feel in just one moment."

Her hands grappled tremblingly with his belt and his fly, until, with a jangling of metal, they fell to the floor and she pressed her palm firmly up against the cotton of his underpants, excitedly assessing what was in store. She was not disappointed. His fingers caught in her hair, tugging almost painfully on it, as she extricated him from the cotton, clenching him in one fist, her other hand slipping to cup him below. He murmured loudly, steadying himself against the wall, as she began to establish a friction-fuelled rhythm. He was more vocal than she'd expected and that excited her even more.

Swiftly he pushed her back to the hall table. He tugged roughly at her knickers, dragging them down her legs, and releasing her from her bra. He hitched her upwards onto the table, splaying her legs, sending keys and post flying across the floor. She smiled upwards at him, as she reached between her legs and directed him eagerly to where he needed to be. He returned the smile briefly before pushing firmly into the slick warmth. The rigid extent of him took her breath away and she leaned backwards, arching her chest. "Oh, Robbie." She bit her lip as she adjusted, feeling the exquisitely pulsating warmth resume within her.

He waited for her and, when she placed her hands over his buttocks, he knew this was the signal. He withdrew and rolled his hips gently forwards, again… and again… gradually building the pulse as his fingers clutched at the flesh of her hips. The table began to shake with the increasingly urgent motion and the noise of it catching against the wall only drove him on. The clatter was matched only by her murmurings, the blissful aching reaching a swollen frenzy within her and, within moments she was bucking uncontrollably beneath him, whimpering his name in a tone of voice he'd never forget, caught in the physical ecstasy of the release of all those years of tension. She stilled just in time to enjoy his demise, encouraging him deeper with a widening of her legs as he grunted and shunted helplessly against her. "Laura… Laura… Laura."

It took them a few minutes to regain their breath. She looked shyly up at him, suddenly self-conscious. He placed a kiss on her forehead. "You are… amazing."

She giggled, kissing his chest. "You're not so bad yourself."

"What shall we do now?"

"Well, unless you want to hang around naked in my hallway all night, I suggest you have a shower whilst I make us some supper."

"Supper?!"

"Or tea… or dinner… or whatever you northerners call it."

"Tea would be lovely."

She slid from the table and sought to retrieve her clothes. She threw him his discarded underpants. "Put some clothes on, Inspector, before I report you for indecent exposure."

He laughed, using his pants to recover his modesty. He eyed her deliberately up and down. "Speak for yourself, Doctor Hobson." Then he relented, drawing her in towards him for a tender kiss. "Actually, scrap that. Who cares about the law? As far as I'm concerned, you can indecently expose yourself to me any time."

She rolled her eyes, laughing. "You sure know how to charm the ladies, Robert Lewis."

He winked and sauntered contentedly upstairs.