A/N: Oh, look, I can post a new McSmartypants fic. This time it's taking place sometime after Chasing Your Shadow... and he really got himself in a pretty big mess. How? Oh... let's just say, someone can get him into just about anything really easily. And I do feel bad for poor Mr. Woolsey.

Also, this was mac's idea. I had nothing to do with it, so stop glaring at me, McSmartypants!

PS.: Pretty big language warning, and oh, this is smut. Yes.

Why Get Complicated?

"Cos I'm a boy, she's a girl,
And we're all doing this around the world,
Around the world, around the world, around the world,

So, why get complicated?
You know you wanna turn me on,
Why get complicated?
You know you wanna turn me on."

James Blunt, "Turn Me On"

It was a pretty stupid idea. That much is clear. Even though it's kind of hot it was still a stupid idea so he really tries to stop what he's doing. What they're doing.

However, it's kind of difficult to stop kissing and simultaneously undressing his girlfriend. As a last resort he tries to remind himself forcefully of the fact that they're essentially on the verge of having sex in a government property jumper but it's just not working.

"Fuck, Joe, could you just focus here, please?" Oh, right, focus on hot girlfriend because otherwise hot girlfriend will get seriously pissed.

"I am focusing, Buckle Bunny," he grunts and while it wasn't quite true a moment ago, it certainly is now. Leaning down, he renews his vigor in kissing her and sets off to complete the task of getting her rid of her shirt, fully ignoring the fact that they're supposed to be working here.

But they'd been alone and they'd suddenly found themselves in the same jumper totally by coincidence and she'd worn one of the sleeveless regulation shirts and they hadn't had any time to themselves for ages because of opposite shifts and a general conspiracy by the universe and/or their respective superiors against them being together.

And seriously, it had happened totally on coincidence! He'd been tasked with checking the jumpers' supplies and she'd been working on some glitch in a jumper's interface and oh, suddenly they'd been in the same jumper and well, sometimes it's enough for him that she's just there and he really missed her and… ah, stop thinking.

He finally gives up fighting his needs with trying to be at least half professional and lets her push him towards the bench behind him while doing her best to get him pantless before reaching said bench. He's kind of glad, by the way, that she chose to go against regulation and wore shorts instead of sensible regulation pants because hey, way easier to get rid of. Oh so good to get his hands there, feel her fingers in his hair, hot kisses on his lips when she straddles him… yes, baby, that's it, right there.

God, she's so… dexterous and yeah, he's fucking glad he couldn't keep up ignoring all her attempts at exploiting his love for her in shorts and short sleeves and the fact that they haven't seen each other properly for weeks. Because if he had, he wouldn't be sitting here now, with her hands and lips all over him, feeling her smooth, cool skin under his fingers and against his body while she keeps wiggling and he'd so ask her to stop doing that if that weren't the best kind of torture ever.

"Jesus fucking…" She silences him with another kiss and then giggles.

Whispering, she says, "Stealth, Joe. I thought you flyboys… whoa, holy… I thought you were all so good at that…" and then she makes an exquisite little mewling noise when he cups her buttocks and draws her as close as possible to himself, close enough so he can… right… there… he wanted to get there… and then all his sense of stealth is gone and he lets go and… whoa… that was really, God, that was just… that…

"Pardon, I was just… Oh, good God, please excuse me, I'm…" Jesus… fucking… What the fucking fuck is Richard Fucking Woolsey fucking doing in the fucking bay door of the fucking jumper?

Oh… turning around and fleeing the scene like he's being chased by the devil from the look of it. Maybe he'll be so shocked that he won't… "Goddammit, McSmartypants get them on again," his girlfriend hisses and shoves his unmentionables back into his hands, while she grabs a blanket from the net above the bench and retreats into the front compartment to get dressed herself.

For a moment, all he can do is stare dumbly at the piece of clothing in his hand but when he hears the very distinctive voice of one Dr. Rodney McKay saying something like "…need to have them disciplined, Richard!" he scrambles to get the thing back on so at least he isn't naked anymore when Mr. Woolsey appears in the doorframe a second time.

This time, Woolsey tries to look pissed but those red blotches on his neck and his face somewhat diminish the effect. McKay, behind him however, looks every inch the gloating arrogant son of a bitch he is. Fuck, he thinks, this is probably exactly what the bastard had been waiting for.

"Lieutenant Simmons, isn't it? You're on Major Lorne's team, aren't you?" Woolsey asks, with a surprising amount of something dangerous in his voice. Alright, maybe he should have listened to the boss when he'd told them never to underestimate Woolsey.

Trying to keep from swallowing, he answers, "Yes, sir."

"I will have you and Miss Wilson reporting to my office 0800 tomorrow." Woolsey did stumble a little over the 0800, telling him he's still not quite comfortable with adjusting to the city's jargon but… he did pretty well with the rest of it.

This time he does swallow because he can't quite acknowledge the order yet. "Beg pardon, sir but… Miss Wilson is not the one responsible for this." Actually, she is, seeing as she'd had to… convince him to do this. But his momma didn't raise him to be a coward. His momma also didn't raise him to be an idiot which is why he quickly steps in front of Kassandra. He didn't even have to see that she was about to have her say in this and that scares him just a little bit.

"I think it would be prudent to let me be the judge of this, Lieutenant." And now he can just imagine the "told you so" look on her face and the arms she must have somehow managed to cross in front of her not even half decently clad chest without losing her dignity… unlike him.

What he can see, though, is Rodney McKay immensely enjoying this and one day he will lose his temper and even top all the stories people – the boss and Captain Cadman included – told him about the boss or the Captain losing it in front of McKay. But Woolsey still wants an answer from him. "Yes, sir. Of course, sir."

"0800 at my office, Lieutenant. And Miss Wilson. I will also inform your respective direct superiors of this and request proper disciplinary actions. Am I understood?" Right. He will never underestimate Richard Woolsey again. And oh God, how is he gonna explain this to the boss?

And, almost more important, how will he ever live down the Sergeants' reactions? "Yes, sir."

"Good. Carry on." What? "Not… here. And not with… what you've been doing, of course." Ah, right.

"Of course, sir." Woolsey throws him another look that's a cross between being considerably embarrassed and considerably pissed – in Woolsey's case, he just discovered, one has to look for the small things like that vein throbbing at his temple – and takes his leave after nodding at Kassandra behind him. McKay takes another moment to gloat – he's frantically trying to think up something to make up for the taunting and gloating the boss and probably Captain Cadman as well will have to endure from that idiot in the next couple of weeks – and then mercifully strides away to harass some other poor soul.

There's another moment of silence and he tries to get back into looking at least partially dignified when he suddenly hears Kassandra saying dryly from behind, "Well… that could have gone better."

He turns around, not quite sure if he's pissed or if he still needs a while for that. "Actually… that shouldn't have happened at all."

"Didn't hear you complaining, flyboy." Okay, now he is pissed. "Aw, come on, you really didn't complain. No, don't you dare start another fight." What… how… why did she know… and why's she smirking like that? "You're as open as a book. Now get that shirt on again, we need to figure out how to get back at McKay."

How can she be so… unconcerned? This really isn't a laughing matter and both their careers could be in serious danger and the boss and the Sergeants will probably all lose the respect he's worked so hard for and… wait. Getting back at McKay actually doesn't sound like so bad an idea. But… first things first. "Yeah, after we figure out how to get out of this mess," he grunts while pulling the shirt over his head.

When he looks at her again, she still hasn't lost the smirk. "Oh, we'll find a way. We always do. Now, why don't we wrap up our stuff here and then work on your little focus problem in my quarters?"

His what? Oh… oh right. His focus problem. He clears his throat. "Sounds like… a plan. Do you want me to give you hand or…"

"Keep those hands of yours to yourself until we get back to quarters," she laughs and sets to curse at the jumper again, while typing away on her tablet PC, humming an off-key melody under her breath and despite everything and himself, he can't help grinning in anticipation while he finishes going through his check list. Yeah, maybe the boss and Mr. Woolsey and probably Sheppard as well will seriously kick his ass and Kassandra's boss Dr. Delingua will make her write patches for microscopic security loopholes for the rest of her life but… they'll find a way out of this. They always do indeed.