A/N: This is the TOS compliant version. To read the explicit version, it's posted over on AO3.

"You'll be attending, of course," the Dean said to Sydney as she was about to leave his office. It was more of a statement than a question.

"Sorry?" she asked, stopping in the doorway and turning to face him.

"The Christmas party. You're expected to be there. A good time to foster our workplace relationships."

"Oh, well, I –"

"Good. See you Thursday." The Dean went back to the paperwork on his desk, effectively ending the conversation and dismissing Sydney.

xxx

"This is ridiculous," Sydney grumbled as she put the final pins in her hair. "I don't see why I have to go to this thing. Fostering relationships in the workplace – I have all the relationships in the workplace I need." She scowled as she caught the sight of Nigel in the bathroom mirror, smirking as he leaned against the doorway with his arms at his sides, his hands in his pockets. The scowl faded as her eyes trailed down his body and her brain caught up with what he was wearing. It certainly wasn't the first time she'd seen him in a suit, but he wore one so rarely.

It wasn't a rented suit that he usually picked up when they were on a hunt and had to get into a place that was a little more dressed up than either of them tended to pack. This one was tailored specifically to him, and it showed. She ran her eyes appreciatively across his chest, the cut of the black fabric emphasizing the broadness of his shoulders and the narrowness at his waist; for the time being he had avoided being accosted by Mafdet and her fluffy white fur. The bowtie was perfectly tied – she remembered him complaining the first time he'd worn one in front of her about Preston fussing over it when they were younger. Nigel had learned to tie one properly just so his brother would leave him alone.

Nigel radiated confidence, evident in his stance and the smirk. It had happened slowly over the years, his confidence and self-assuredness growing day by day as they worked together. Sometimes, like today, Sydney was caught by surprise at how much he had changed, and yet how much Nigel was still, well, Nigel. Where he had thought of himself as studious and intelligent - just a bookworm – he was more rounded in his pursuits, to the point where he looked as much like he belonged in a suit waiting for her to get ready, as he did in a library pouring over a book. He had long become comfortable enough with her that he didn't stutter with her, and rambling was at a minimum. When they had started dating and staring at her breasts was no longer taboo, the nervous rambling at Sydney almost stopped altogether.

"I don't know, Syd," his eyes slowly raked over her reflection in the mirror, definitely pausing on the cleavage she was showing off tonight, "this could be a great, erm, bonding experience. Like the Dean said." Nigel cleared his throat and shifted slightly as his eyes returned to meet her reflection's.

Her eyes brightened as an idea occurred to her. A small, sultry smile slowly spread across her features, and she turned slowly to face Nigel who was tracking her every move.

"You know," she said, stepping towards her boyfriend, "we could always say we had a flat tire." As she came to stand directly in front of him, she tilted her head to expose her neck. In the same moment, she placed her palms on his chest and ran her hands up to his shoulders, spreading her thumbs so she could brush them along the line of his collar. She was certain she heard Nigel's sharp intake of breath at the contact and could see his eyes drift to look at her neck. He licked his lips. She wondered if he was thinking about their impromptu make out session in her office that afternoon, in which she had needed to use every last bit of self-restraint to stop him from marking up her neck for the evening. Her dress wasn't one that she had a scarf planned out for.

"The Dean was pretty clear, Syd. All the department heads are expected to be there." He straightened and took his hands from his pockets to place them on her waist and tugged her closer so there was no room between them; their noses were less than an inch apart, and she could feel his breath on her face. His body was firm against hers, his hands warm on her waist. The scent of his cologne enveloped her. Her breath caught in her throat. How dare he turn this back around on her. As though he could read her mind, a mischievous smile materialized on his face. "All the networking you need to do. Professor Erikkson will leap at the chance to discuss Mayan hygiene practices with you."

The problem with the built-up confidence was that it made him slightly more immune to her in moments like this.

Sydney sighed in defeat (Professor Erikkson had been trying to get her into a discussion for weeks) and began to pull away to put on her shoes, only to find that Nigel wouldn't let her go. She raised an eyebrow at him and was about to ask him if he had changed his mind about the flat tire, when he gently nuzzled her nose with his and pressed his lips to hers in a chaste kiss.

"The earlier we go, the earlier we can leave, right?" he asked, still close enough that their lips brushed as he spoke. "You look exquisite, by the way," he said, dragging the tip of his nose along hers.

She gulped. With an enormous amount of effort, Sydney stepped back and dropped her arms. This time Nigel let her go, and she immediately missed his warmth. Trying to appear cool and collected even while her heart hammered in her chest and thoughts of Nigel pressing into her without layers of clothes between them infiltrated her mind, she left the bathroom in search of her shoes and her bag.

xxx

Sydney and Nigel arrived at the banquet hall just half and hour after the party had started to find their colleagues well into celebrations. Despite Nigel's teasing earlier, he wanted to go as much as she did, and neither had been rushed to leave the comfort of home. Their only caveat being that if either of them had started undressing there would have been no getting dressed again and no appearance at the mandatory party. They left their coats at the coat check and wandered into the hall.

Sydney looked around the room. There were Santa and elf hats everywhere, sprigs of mistletoe hanging from various points on the ceiling, and an artificial and decorated Christmas tree glowed in one corner of the long room. A snack table full of food and drinks sat against one wall, and Sydney spotted some of her colleagues looking busy as they nibbled. A DJ booth was blasting 'Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree' and there were some people dancing. Others gathered around a photobooth set up taking pictures, while another group seemed to be playing 'pin the nose on Rudolph'.

"So the plan is to have a chat with the Dean so he knows we're here, and then make our way to the door," Sydney reminded Nigel, who was scanning the room as well. She mentally added stopping at the snack table and seeing if the drinks were anything with alcohol.

"Nigel!" The high-pitched voice made them both jump and they turned to see Jeannette, another teaching assistant at the university who had a massive crush on Nigel. She was wearing a Santa hat. "Hi Professor Fox," she said perfunctorily to Sydney before ignoring her completely. "I didn't think I'd see you here. I'm only here because Professor Reynolds thought it would be a good place to network, so he brought me along. I'm so glad you're here. Come on, I want to show you the backdrop they have for photos." Before Nigel could protest or make up an excuse, she was pulling him away. He looked at Sydney in panic, a silent plea in his eyes for her to get him out of this, but Sydney just gave up on hiding the smile that had been threatening to break out. She went off to the snack table where she found a bowl of punch. Cup in hand, she went off in search of the Dean.

After signing multiple HR forms and sitting in numerous meetings both together and separately so they could be asked question after question, Sydney and Nigel's relationship had been approved by the university. Still, they hadn't thought it anyone else's business but their own and had simply carried on as normal at work, stealing kisses and lingering touches when they were alone. The two of them were so often together anyway, that even showing up at a function like this together didn't raise any eyebrows either. What that meant though, was that Nigel was often perceived as available. Sydney did nothing to quell the assumptions, knowing that he was coming home with her. While she could be a jealous person, she found that she didn't need to be when it came to Nigel, who had been choosing her for years. Not to mention that it was rather fun to see the panic on his face as he was whisked away by an interested individual.

She greeted her colleagues as she passed them in her search for the Dean, always looking for signs of Erikkson. She made some small talk as she walked, never staying still for long. She passed the photobooth as she made her round – a winter wonderland – with Nigel nowhere to be found. Slightly nonplussed over her missing boyfriend, she failed to notice that Erikkson had a clear view of her from across the room.

"Sydney!"

She recognized Erikkson's voice and immediately ducked into the hallway to her right, and then to the left as she reached the end, running right into something solid that gave an "oof". She heard Erikkson call out her name again, and without looking at the person she'd run into, she ducked into the door conveniently on her left which was thankfully unlocked. Years of hiding and dragging her long suffering assistants with her made her automatically shove the other person into the room as well. She glimpsed shelves and cleaning solutions before she softly closed the door behind her and the room went pitch black. There was the sound of someone falling into something, and then something falling.

"Ow," said a very familiar voice. She relaxed marginally. She had been in much tighter spaces than this with Nigel, and for much more serious reasons.

Sydney shushed him as she heard footsteps, and then realized it wasn't just the heavy step of a man she could hear, but the click of a high heel on the wooden floor.

"Oh, Professor Erikkson! I'm so sorry."

"Not to worry my dear. Are you all right? It's Janelle, isn't it?"

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine. And Jeanette actually. Um, did you see Nigel? I thought I saw him go down here."

"No, no, haven't seen him all night. Have you seen Professor Fox?"

"Just earlier."

"How odd." There was a pause, and Sydney prayed that they didn't decide to check the door she was leaning against. "I suppose we'd best get back to the party then. I daresay, have I told you about the most remarkable find on Mayan hairbrushes…" The footsteps went back the way Sydney had come and Erikkson's voice faded.

Sydney sighed in relief.

"Do you shove all your dates into closets?" Nigel's voice asked dryly. "Or is it just your teaching assistants?"

She wasn't sure if he'd known it was her from the shushing, the fact that she'd impulsively thrown him into a closet with her, or if he had actually seen her before he was manhandled. Sydney turned in the cramped space in what she thought was the direction of Nigel's voice. There was a grunt as her elbow hit something soft.

"Sorry," she whispered, wincing.

"It's fine," he wheezed back.

Sydney grinned and reached out until she felt the soft fabric of his jacket. "Do you usually let random women pull you into closets?" she echoed back at him, stepping closer, her voice coy.

Nigel's hands found her waist after lightly skimming her stomach and leaving a trail of fire, and they were suddenly in the same position they'd been in only a couple of hours earlier in the bathroom doorway. "Only when the woman is beautiful," his nose nudged against hers and he found her lips, pressings his to hers briefly, "stubborn," kiss, "passionate," kiss, "saves me all the time," kiss, "and is my boss," he finished cheekily, landing a last kiss to her lips. Warmth flooded her face.

Where she would normally roll her eyes, the teasing she'd been a victim of twice today (three times if she counted the good morning kiss she'd received when she went into the kitchen for her coffee – it had turned very handsy) had her on edge, and she took her hands from his chest to cup his face and kissed him, needing the contact. The bag she was holding suddenly felt very in the way and she dropped it, the small thud it made as it landed not registering.

Nigel's hands skimmed down her sides until they were on her hips instead, and he pulled her against him until she could feel the bulge in his pants. She rolled her hips in response, grinding against him and Nigel pressed her back until she hit the door with a small thud. Sydney bit his bottom lip in retaliation and Nigel gasped, Sydney using the opportunity to lick into his mouth. Letting go of the hold she had on his face, she wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist, wanting him closer.

Sydney couldn't remember the last time she had had sex in a semi-public place, but as Nigel pressed her against the door and held her up using muscles she hadn't realized he'd earned, she could feel the exhilaration adding to the electricity thrumming along her skin. Every touch was like a brand, and she couldn't bring herself to care about appearances when Nigel began to kiss, lick, and nibble at her neck. It didn't take long for her to finish, with Nigel following close behind. They were in high-adrenaline situations all the time, but their boss (well, her boss and his boss's boss) wasn't far away (they assumed) as were many of their coworkers who they would definitely see again. The thought was thrilling and combined with the flirting they'd been doing throughout the day, their releases were powerful.

Nigel rested his head against Sydney's and the two of them took a moment to catch their breath as they came down from their respective highs. Eventually she unlinked her ankles and it was only Nigel's hands still under her thighs that prevented her legs from just falling. She leaned heavily against the wall when Nigel released her, as her legs got their bearings again, and tugged both her dress and her underwear back into place. She felt Nigel shift and assumed he was also trying to put himself into some semblance of order.

"Is there a," Nigel cleared his throat, "erm, a light switch by the door?"

Right. Sydney turned and ran her hands along the wall beside the door away from the hinges. Finding a switch, Sydney flicked it and was filled with immediate regret as the single bulb light illuminated the room. She blinked, trying to get her vision back.

Once she could see again, she looked at Nigel, who grinned goofily back at her. He looked positively debauched with his red cheeks, her lipstick all around his mouth, and his swollen lips. He had pulled his pants back on in the dark and the shirt was tucked back in but badly wrinkled, and his collar was crushed where she had been gripping it. The bowtie was crooked. His hair was no longer slicked back as it had been when they'd arrived, but she couldn't remember running her hands through it. Nigel answered the unasked question a moment later, running a hand through his hair as he looked her over, further ruffling his hair.

"You look…" he trailed off.

"Like I just had sex in a janitor's closet?" she finished for him, raising an eyebrow as she searched the ground for her bag. Finding it in a box, she fished it out and opened it up, looking for both a napkin and her compact mirror.

"I was going to go with ravishing," he corrected her.

She gave him a look as she handed him the napkin and the mirror, before looking inside the bag again for her lipstick.

Minutes later, Nigel's bowtie fixed, his hair rearranged as much as possible, the straps of her dress pulled up, the smears of lipstick wiped away from both of their mouths, and lipstick reapplied to her own lips, Sydney turned to open the door.

"Uh, Syd?"

She turned to Nigel questioningly. He gestured at his neck meaningfully, looking sheepish. No longer approaching an orgasm, she glared at Nigel as she dug back into her bag and pulled the compact back out, aiming it specifically at her neck where bruises from Nigel's mouth were forming on either side. Shoving the bag and mirror at Nigel, Sydney began to pick apart the pins and clips holding her hair in its updo. She missed her satchel; she could've fit her concealer in that at least. Each item pulled from her hair was given to Nigel who dutifully put them in her bag while he watched intently. He favoured her hair down, liked to run his hands through it and he often pulled out her clips and elastics after work to do so. Finally pulling out the last pin, her hair fell in waves across her shoulders. After handing the pin to Nigel, she ran her hands through her hair trying to make it look deliberate, while pulling it forward so that her neck was more or less covered. What could still be seen would often be mistaken for a shadow, she had discovered way back in high school.

"Okay?"

Nigel gave her a nod, and the two of them left the closet and rejoined the party, where 'Jingle Bell Rock' was blaring from the speakers. It looked much the same as when they'd left it, people dancing, playing games, and socializing, but there was more of a looseness now, and Sydney imagined the punch had been spiked. A cheer came up from one corner where a group of people were gathered, a sprig of mistletoe at the centre and under it, two people Sydney only vaguely recognized.

"Ah, Professor Fox, there you are. I was starting to wonder if you'd decided not to take my request seriously."

Sydney and Nigel turned to see the Dean and his wife. The two of them were dressed elegantly, with the Dean in a sharp tuxedo and his wife in a glittering red dress.

"Here I am," Sydney said, a smile plastered on her face, "taking it seriously." Beside her Nigel coughed, and she nudged him with her elbow as she figured he was hiding a laugh.

"Good. Merry Christmas." He and his wife wandered off to mingle.

"Merry Christmas," Sydney and Nigel muttered back. She looked at her boyfriend in exasperation, which he ignored. "Great, we can get out of here."

"Wait a second." Nigel had his head tilted to the side as though listening.

Sydney frowned. What on earth was making him wait. She could see Erikkson out of the corner of her eye and felt as thought this was the perfect opportunity to –

Nigel's face suddenly lit up. "Dance with me?"

Sydney stared at him as though he'd grown two heads. Weren't they just about to get out of there? She listened for a second and realized she could hear Frank Sinatra over the speakers singing 'Have Yourself a Merry Christmas'. A smile stretched across her face and she took Nigel's outstretched hand and he pulled her closer to the growing group of dancing couples.

It had been a long time since she had danced like this, slow and intimate. Nigel had one of her hands clasped in his and the other secure around her waist holding her closely to him (there would be so much gossip in the rumour mill over this); she had her free hand on his shoulder. They moved slowly to the music, letting it wash over them. Suddenly feeling extremely content, Sydney moved the last bit forward to rest her head against Nigel's. Despite being in an awfully hot and crowded room, in that moment it felt like it was just the two of them. To hell with the rumour mill. She closed her eyes and breathed him in.

"I love you," he whispered into her ear as the song ended.

"Likewise," she murmured back to him before pulling away.

If all the work events went like this, she'd probably do more of them, Sydney thought as they grabbed their coats from the coat check and made their way to her car. Still, there were better places to have sex than a janitor's closet with coworkers milling about just feet away, and better places to dance than under the watchful eye of their coworkers. Overall, it hadn't been a bad way to start the Christmas holidays.