A/N: A very random one-shot... this is what happens when I take time off work.

Gene long ago begun to suspect his DI would never truly follow anyone's orders, not unless it so happens to be something she intends to do anyway and if it did not happen to be something she wants then she was as stubborn as a mule.
He watches her silently as she rants and raves. The dark, empty office echoing her every word. Why she is shouting at him is a mystery, she is the one who decided to ignore a direct order.
You would think 'wait for back up' would be a simple enough instruction to follow, but even at the best of times DI Drake appears to have only selective hearing.
He tops his glass up for the fourth time, ignoring her as she harps on. It is when her argument runs into insult after insult that his silence snaps and he booms, "Shut up!" The cease of sound is a blessing, but he knows it is to be short lived and if he is to get a word in edge ways in the next half hour he had better do it now while her mouth is in a tight line and her face is red with indignation.
"Before you scream yourself hoarse I suggest you have a little think about why we had to go 'barging in to a hostage situation like cavemen' never mind you neglected to listen to a direct order."
"I-" Alex starts, ready to defend herself the moment he stops for a breadth of a second.
"Did I give you permission to talk?" he asks gruffly.
"No, well I-"
"I think you need a lesson in obedience. Wouldn't you agree, Drakey?"
"For god s-" This time she is cut off with a hand firmly over her mouth.
Her eyes bulged as he speaks levelly, "I believe Bolly-Kecks I mentioned not a few minute ago about giving you permission to talk or do I have to get a ruddy gag?"
Alex knocks his hand away and turns to leave, "I've had enough of this."
His hand on her shoulder makes her halt before she has even taken a step. "I didn't say you could leave."
"I don't need your permssio-"
He stands close behind her, his hand still on her shoulder as he whispers, "Yes you do!" He watches her shiver as his hot breath tickles the fine hairs at the back of her neck, "You want to share one of your crack pot theories, you ask first. You want to leave work, you ask first. You want to go to the toilet, you ask first. You want to sharpen a pencil, what do you do first?"
"Ge-ne?" She curses herself internally for the fault in her voice.
"What do you do?" he barks into her ear.
"Jesus!" Alex jumps and his hold on her shoulder tightens as he waits expectantly for an answer, "I ask first. Can I go now, sir?" she asks with an air of deliberate mockery.
Gene frog-marches her the few steps to his desk. The hard wood digging into her thighs as he stands against her, outlining her body with his own. Alex stays curiously quiet as he guides her down across the desk with his hand on her lower back. Looking down at her bent over his desk he smiles.
"I suggest. No, I'm ordering you to remain still,"
"Ge-"
"And quite," he finishes.
His trousers feel constricting, but he does his best not to fully acknowledge the fact the whole situation is arousing him and instead pulls at the hem of her skirt.
Once he has it bunched around her waist and with most of his blood having made its journey down south, he presses his considerable erection against her behind. He reaches over her head and is given the gift of her wanton moan before he moves his weight off her.
He crouches behind her, object in hand as he strokes his dry palm against her supple behind. He relishes in the sensation of her soft skin beneath his hand as he brings the tip of his pen down on her skin. The contrast of black against cream stark as he scrawls across her flesh.
After a moments thought he puts the cap back on the pen and stands, looking at his handy work for a moment and deciding suddenly to strike her across the fresh ink. Her gasp fills the office, but she does not move or shout at him. Alex only reaction is to tense as though waiting expectantly to be spanked again, instead Gene roughly pulled her skirt down and helps her off the desk.
"Now you can leave."
He watches her face, her body flushes with excitement and embarrassment as she composes herself. She opens her mouth to say something, but thinks better of it and only nods without meeting his eye as she leaves.
He picks up his glass of whiskey and looks down at his tingling palm, smudged and written backwards is his name.