Title: Button Pushing
Raiting: MA/NC-17
Warnings/Spoilers: Post-ep for "Aliens in a Spaceship", contains femslash
Summary: Cam takes full advantage of her newly discovered knowledge to help Brennan let go…
Disclaimer: They don't belong to me. Trust me. Otherwise, they would not be allowed on broadcast television… No copyright infringement intended here, just a little not-so-clean fun.
Dedicated to spybarbie: An inspiration, a beta, and a dirty mind.
For rocking my world with her relentlessly evil suggestions.
Author's Note: This is pure smut with more than a little dominance and submission. Not your thing… turn back now, but you're missing out…
I have plans stop you.
It's nearly eleven at night and you're still crouched over those skull fragments you've spent the last sixteen hours reconstructing. Sure, you got a little relief when Angela coaxed you over to the lounge for coffee and a bagel. But certainly that wasn't enough.
I stop at your office first, picking up your blazer and the shoulder bag that serves as your purse, and scan your desk for any other personal effects you might require, but find only neatly stacked case files and office supplies stored in compartmentalized holders.
Next, I find you, easy enough. You're still locked down on that stool, white gloved hands delicately sorting out fractions of bones that I can't even imagine being able to identify. You've abandoned your lab coat and blazer for that sheath of brown masquerading as a camisole and you've given up on the ponytail that's now drooping low on the back of your head, barely containing the strands of auburn. I watch silently as your hands shaken as you attempt to bring a small piece into closer focus, nearly dropping the delicate bone.
I've got to get you out of here.
"Doctor Brennan…" I say softly, not wanting to startle you. But your focus is unwavering, still trained on the puzzle before you. Tucking your jacket under my arm, I swipe my pass and join you on the platform. Even now, I've not managed to divert your attention, but I'm prepared to fight dirty.
"Temperance," I call teasingly, seeing the muscles of your back ripple with annoyance as you lower the bone to the table, still refusing to turn to face me.
"Yes, Camille?" You reply and I have to smirk at your near sing-song tone. The man has taught you well.
"You're going home."
"Not until I finish with optical cavity. I've nearly completed the—"
"You're done, Temperance."
"No. I'm not."
Stubborn. You're still not looking at me, so I move around the table until I'm looking at the top of your down-turned head. "I'm serious, Temperance," I scold, enjoying the tightening of your jaw at my use of your first name. Yeah, I know it unnerves you here, in this place. It doesn't belong here with the doctor and her bones. "You're going home and you're not coming back until Monday morning, even if I have to cuff and drag you home."
Your eyes finally meet mine, on fire with indignant rage. I thought that would get your attention.
"I don't think that would be an advisable course of action, Doctor Saroyan." Your tone is calm but the tension locked in your muscles belies your obvious aversion to my suggestion.
"If you prefer, I can get security… But I don't imagine they'd be nearly as discreet. You're clearly exhausted and I can't have you making any careless mistakes on this case."
You're on your feet in an instant. The implication that you were anything but perfectly meticulous got you, didn't it? Your eyes flash as you stride around the table, those latex encased hands already firmly grasping your hips in righteous defiance.
"How I choose to regulate my sleep patterns is none of your business. And the implication that I can't monitor my own energy levels is quite frankly insulting and unprofessional."
We're toe-to-toe now, you're stiff, righteous anger aligned with my casually cocked hip and lightly crossed arms and you have no idea girl what all that radiated tension is asking for. And I can't help but laugh at the angry flush that's gracing those dramatic cheekbones of yours. I came prepared, but I never expected that I would be able to push those buttons so rapidly and the dizzying speed with which I got you riled is making my heart race in a way I hadn't anticipated.
You're panting now after your little tirade, less than a foot away, anticipating my protest. When I don't speak, I hear your breath catch for a moment. But when I bring a hand to your bare shoulder, a new kind of blush spreads across the ivory skin of your chest, and the sight of it throws me.
This I hadn't anticipated at all.
The plan was just to get you away from the lab. All day I'd watched you. I told you to take the damn day off. Fucking buried alive, but still you insisted on being here the very next day. I knew you needed the work, the focus, so I'd acquiesced. But I knew that someone would need to stop you. I'd hoped that your friends would step in, stop you. While they'd tried, they'd been too gentle, unwilling to push. So the responsibility had fallen to me.
You were going to need me to push. Hard. I'd need to provoke you, unravel all that focus until you fought me. We'd fight and I'd win, drive you home, and leave you stranded in your apartment. Simple. The idea had given me a strange little thrill as I played it out in my mind.
Since my arrival here at the Jeffersonian I'd battled your damnable stubbornness and imagined what it would be like to make you bend. To strip you of all of the logic and reason that you kept yourself wrapped in until I had total control. Even my decision to give in to Booth's charm had been tinged with my desire to one-up you. Not once though had I ever considered the possibility that you might actually enjoy participating in my little game.
But damn you… You had to respond to my touch. Played into that little thrill unconsciously.
I'd seen it happen before, with him. He'd get your goat, provoking all that stubborn resistance with his cajoling banter. Then, he'd touch you: Just something simple, platonic. A brush of the shoulders in passing. A playful poke. A hand on your shoulder. And it would happen. Heat and color would blossom on your skin like a fire ignited. Arousal's a tricky bitch to predict, but I'd assumed that this particular trigger was inspired by him, not the battle for control that prefaced it.
My miscalculation left my mouth dry and my body unexpectedly aware of you.
Your skin is sweltering under my touch as I skim my hand experimentally down your tense bicep. My action is rewarded with a quick swipe of your tongue over your lips. I let the barest edge of my thumb graze the curve of your breast where it meets your arm as it travels down to take hold of your wrist. Your lips part as my fingers close firmly around your wrist and your breath quickens and suddenly I'm the one suffused with heat. It lasts only a few moments before your clamp your mouth shut, forcing yourself to control those heated breaths, but I caught your little slip. And I won't forget it.
With a stubborn jut of your jaw, you jerk your wrist from my hand, taking a step back. This I recognize. Smiling, I counter by taking a step towards you, closing the gap, catching the brief flicker of surprise in your eyes. "Temperance, either you let me take you home or I can place you administrative leave and have security take care of you. This is for your own damn good. After yesterday, I really shouldn't have even allowed you back to work today."
"I have work to do. I'm fine. It seems counter-productive to make me go home in the middle of this reconstruction just because I was a little shaken up."
"Listen to yourself, Doctor Brennan. You nearly died yesterday. Five more minutes… We would have been too late."
"But I didn't die. I'm alive and this is someone's child—"
"Who's been dead for fifteen years. A few more days isn't going to make it any easier on her family."
You falter only slightly when I bring my hand to your shoulder again, fully anticipating the delicious sound of your stuttering, "B—But I… someone needs to… They still want answers. Time… it doesn't change that."
Emboldened, my hand slides up to cup your flushed cheek and I get another brief glimpse of that slick tongue as I reply, "And you'll give them answers, Temperance." My other hand finds your wrist, tugging you gently closer. "But tonight, you're going to stop this stubborn foolishness and get some rest. You're not a goddamned robot, woman. Let me—"
You wrench yourself abruptly from my grip and push me back by my shoulders. I stagger back in surprise as I hear you growl, "Don't touch me."
"If you'd stop being so stubborn… You have until I count to ten, Temperance, to make your decision. Me or security…"
You're eyeing me warily as I slowly walk towards the phone on the table beside me, my arm extended. "Ten…"
I watch as begin my count down watching that deepen.
"Nine…"
Your breath quickens and I feel mine pick up, excitement looming.
"Eight…"
Indecision is beginning to show in your worried frown, your eyes narrowing to focus on my hand, contemplating the sincerity of my threat.
"Seven…"
Your uncertainty is mounting as I draw nearer to the phone as you shift from one foot to another, your eyes glancing around, hunting for an escape route.
"Six…"
My breath catches in my throat when you take a step towards me, your fingers fluttering nervously over your hips, hesitating before landing there at your waist.
"Five… Dr. Brennan, I'm quite serious. Stop acting like a child—"
This time it's more than a step and my voice fails me as you spring towards me, your hands taking hold of my wrists roughly. You push me back until I collide with the railing and your body crashes into mine, trying to pin me to the spot.
Your bag and your jacket fall to the floor then, sliding away from my grip. My wrists are crushed against the metal bar and your face is inches from mine. You smell like coffee and dust, but you feel like sex: Intimate, hot, determined, and fully physical. I can feel myself melting, but I have to win tonight, so I suck in a breath, thrust my hips against yours and shove you back, freeing my wrists with a quick jerk and a twist.
You fall back, stunned. God, but you look incredible there, flushed and sweating, nipples perked and straining through that impossibly thin camisole. I bet you're even wet.
Licking my lips, I push myself off the rail and approach you slowly. I can tell by the rapid movement of your eyes that you're confused. Don't you worry, hon, I'll fix that soon enough.
It takes just three easy steps to reach you and two seconds to knock you back again. I push you from your shoulders and you stagger back unsteadily. Perhaps it's the exhaustion. Perhaps it's the arousal. Either way, with a few little shoves I've got your back to a work station desk with wide eyes and shaking hands, and it only takes a few strides to close that final distance.
I've got you know. I press my palms down on top of yours where they lay on the desktop and my hips drive into yours, leaving you no space for leverage and no time to think. You're biting your lip and glancing around, perhaps hoping someone will pop in, bring a stop to this little battle that you're losing. I'm watching that lip and feeling my excitement surging at the heat I can feel rolling off of you in waves.
No chance.
"Four, three two… Which one's it gonna be, Temperance. Me? Or security?"
A tiny squeak escapes your lips as I jut my hips firmly into yours to punctuate my statement before you manage to stammer with a quivering voice, your cheeks stained a dramatic crimson, "You… You can take me—" Your voice breaks as a low moan rolls from your lips.
And in an instant I'm swallowing it, pressing my lips to yours as my desire reaches a fevered pitch. For a moment, you're frozen under my touch, but my tongue darts out to follow the path that yours had traced just a short while ago and your lips pop open, acquiescing to my silent demand. My lips slant over yours and our hips are sliding back and forth as I drag my fingers up to take hold of your shoulders.
Your hands are now free and they come to my waist as your jaw presses towards me, trying to take control of the kiss. I pull my mouth away from yours, reclaiming your wrists with my hands and plant them firmly back on the table. You squirm against me and I revel in the feel of it. A smile spreads to my lips as you try to pull them free, but I'm not letting you win.
I come back to your mouth once more, aligning my lips to yours, noting that they're already swollen. The smell of your arousal is evident now as I kiss you with a ferocity that has you bending backwards slightly, our chests pressed together so tight I can feel each sharp little gasp you make. I bring my lips away from yours, dragging them over the skin of your jaw, tasting the sweat along your throat as your head falls back to allow me access to that soft skin.
As I close my teeth lightly down on the tight flesh on your collarbone, something inside me spills over when I hear the sound of you begging. "Please, Camille…" Your voice is so harsh and deep that it sends simmering, wet arousal straight to my center. "Let me touch you, please."
Struggling to maintain my composure, I shake my head, immediately feeling your hands wriggling in a feeble attempt to free themselves. "You told me to take you… now you're mine…" I whisper, bringing my lips directly against your ear as I speak.
Your fingers go still and I know I've won.
"This is what you wanted… isn't it?" I ask you, letting my tongue tease the rim of your ear as I wait for your response.
I have to lick my dry lips as you drag in a long, unsteady breath. Each time you inhale I feel your breasts crushing against my chest, those hard nipples poking against my soft flesh. "Well, Temperance?"
"Yes!" The answer escapes you in a short burst and then the rest of the words come spilling out as your fingers unwittingly curl with excitement as I wedge my thigh between yours, pressing up against your obviously molten center. "But… This isn't fair, you've got to let me touch you… I'll do anything…" Your words dissolve to whimpers as I press more firmly on your fingers and bring my lips back to yours in a brief, teasing kiss.
"Anything?"
"Anything."
I've got to get you off this platform. Too many damned security cameras that have already seen too much.
You're literally melting in my hands and your promise is tempting me. I can feel your trembling need pressing into the top of my thigh and, in my mind, you're already stripped naked and bending under my touch. But I've got to be certain first that you're not playing possum, not that I think your strict, rational mind could have possibly allowed that pleading, desperate promise to obey to escape your lips.
"I'm going to my office. If you follow me, you're mine for the rest of the night."
Your eyes fall shut as your head tilts back in a delicious moan. I can't keep my lips from tasting the exposed skin there once more, savoring the salty taste of your sweat.
I feel your throat close as you swallow roughly and manage to mutter, "And if I don't… follow you…"
"You can go home, get some rest, and I'll never speak a word to anyone. If you stay and try to work, I really will call security."
Slowly, I extricate myself from your body, letting my thigh skim along the seam of your pants harshly as I withdraw. Instantly, I can feel the cool air where your heated form had been and I shudder with excitement as your head lifts, bringing your eyes to mine. I allow myself to take in the desire that's burning there for only a moment before I turn, leaving you behind as I stride towards my office to wait.
I've won and now I've got a new set of plans.
End Note:
I'm really not as evil as I seem, ending it here. Chapter Two is already finished, but my beta fell asleep on me… So this will continue tomorrow… once she wakes up.
The original idea for this fic came to me while listening to Barenaked Ladies' "Tonight Is The Night I Fell Asleep At The Wheel." My mind got to thinking about the lyrics as an analogy for allowing yourself to completely give up control and the consequences of doing so, and because I really am that twisted, I turned death by roll-over accident into a little fantasy about just who would win if Cam really did try to take control of Brennan…