TITLE: Starting Up
AUTHOR: Susan / apckrfan
E-MAIL
DISTRIBUTION: My site, AO3, FanFiction.net, LiveJournal, Yahoo Groups. Anyone else, please just tell me where it's at.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own any characters. They are owned by JJ Abrams, FOX, etc. No profit is made from this fic.
RATING: FRAO / NC-17
SPOILERS: Through The Arrival (1x04)
SUMMARY: Broyles asked for the room to clear out when he brought Olivia in to look at various photographs of The Observer. Here's why he wanted to be alone with her.
CHARACTERS/PAIRING: Olivia Dunham & Phillip Broyles
DATE STARTED: October 2008
STATUS: Complete
WORD COUNT: 1,693
FEEDBACK: Please, I can't write better without it.
NOTES: A sequel to Get There From Here, more smut. And we'll pretend the phone call came a little later, heh




Olivia glanced from the various photographs on the wall at Broyles behind her.

"So, that's it?"

"I'm sorry?"

"You have these photographs, but you don't know anything about him or the reason he's in these photographs?"

"Not yet."

She glanced from him to the closed door and back to the pictures on the wall. It didn't matter how many times she looked at them, there was no explanation for the same man to be in all of these places. Not a good one anyway.

"So, why the secrecy," she asked finally.

"We haven't had a chance to be alone," he said, a hand slid along her shoulder to the nape of her neck. "Since that night at your place anyway."

She glanced at him over her shoulder. "Hmm, then who was that the next morning?"

He pushed aside her hair, placing a kiss where he'd just touched. "You know what I mean."

"I've been busy and so have you I'm sure." She shivered a little as he nuzzled against her ear, kissing her earlobe and the side of her neck. "I didn't know if you wanted to see me again."

"Why wouldn't I?"

She shrugged. "You knew what I needed."

"I was hoping it wouldn't be just a one-time thing."

"You were?" she asked, surprised.

He slid his left hand along her shoulder, down part of her arm until he reached her breasts. She inhaled sharply, knowing what he was going to do and that she should stop him. Instead, she watched rather entranced as his fingertips worked two buttons and slid his hand inside her blouse, cupping a breast. And all that she thought about was being very glad she'd chosen one of her nicer ones.

"Are you coming onto me, Agent Broyles?"

"Most definitely, Agent Dunham."

"I should stop you," she whispered.

"You could."

She watched his hand maintain its slow caress of her breast. It wasn't necessarily sexual. At least not totally.

"How long do you think they'll leave us alone in here?"

"I'm the boss, until I open the door again."

"And they won't…"

"Suspect a thing."

Instinctively, she rubbed her ass against the front of his pants. It was totally wrong, went against everything she'd been taught. Not only was he an agent, he was her supervisor. Her boss. Had the power to fire her.

"If that's your method of stopping me you may want to rethink it."

She laughed softly. "No, just thinking that doing this later might be better."

"Better how?"

"Safer then."

He kissed her ear, sliding his hand lower to the front of her pants. He had them unfastened in no time.

"Safer is very overrated," he whispered against her ear.

His fingers grazed her clit and she stopped thinking about being safe or waiting until later. She remembered vividly what he'd made her feel that night. She'd assumed it wouldn't happen again, that he hadn't planned on it happening and wouldn't want to give her the wrong impression.

Apparently, she'd been wrong. Or he reconsidered because it had been a few days since that night. She bit her lip, giving a soft groan as he entered her with a finger. She moved, resting her hands against the wall in front of them to stand on her tiptoes. He kissed her neck, sucking on it lightly and gave a soft laugh.

"I take it you agree with me on that point."

"Starting to."

"What will it take to convince you?"

A second finger joined the first, sliding deeply inside of her. She let her head drop back against his chest, tilting it back so she could see his face. He leaned down and kissed her, giving her a smug smile as he drew away.

"You're on the right track," she said, as if he didn't know that. She found the wall again, focusing on it as he touched her. She groaned softly when he stroked her inner thigh, wanting him back inside of her. Or at the very least rubbing her clit. Either would be good. Both would be even better.

Her fingertips grazed one of the glossy prints of The Observer when she felt him slide her pants lower with his other hand. She couldn't stifle the groan when his fingertips slid along her bare thigh, higher to her ass. A fingertip slid lower along the crease, joining the other ones now back inside of her.

"Definitely getting there."

"Am I now?"

She smiled, though he couldn’t see it with her back to him. "Yeah."

She closed her eyes at the sound of a zipper behind her. He pressed closer against her and she felt him sliding between her legs. She gasped at how hard he was already, loving the feel of the evidence of what she did to him. Even at work when his mind as well as hers should be on other things.

"I don't know what it is about you that promotes spontaneous sex in unusual places."

"About me?"

Her sex life had been pretty boring until the night on her floor in front of her door. Beds or couches, maybe the occasional car's backseat with John when there was no time to get a hotel room. As tempting as it was since they were already snubbing their noses at the rules, they'd never had sex in the Bureau building or anything.

She cried out as Phillip entered her, a reminder of where she was and the fact she wasn't with John. Not that she needed it. She knew who she was with. He felt different than John, smelled different, his body fit differently against hers.

She'd certainly never had sex against a wall before. Never even thought about it. At the moment, she was wondering why that was the case and what else there was to explore.

Phillip was taller than she was so he had to maneuver her a little bit. She let him, which made it more exciting. Being under his control but knowing he wouldn't hurt her that he was out to please her. He pressed her further into the wall as he moved inside of her. He wasn't gentle, not like the other night. His mouth was rough against her neck, nipping and biting. A hand remained between her legs, rubbing her clit.

"Come for me, Olivia," he whispered in her ear. "Show me you like this."

"I do," she whispered.

"You like it when I thrust deeply inside of you."

"Yes," she groaned.

"Gentler or harder?"

"Harder."

"You sure?"

She whimpered, which he apparently took as the yes she meant it to be. He became almost relentless in his thrusts, moving inside of her hard and deep. Again and again. It was all she could do to keep quiet. He brought her close, closer, and closer still to the point she thought she was going to go insane. She made a fist, clutching one of the pictures on the wall with her hand. She crumpled it, tearing it off the wall as she came.

"Yes," he said. "That's it, let go for me. I love the way you feel when you do that. The sounds you make, the way your body trembles against mine."

"Harder," she said, feeling him thrust into her. Now that she'd come, knowing that all this wouldn't last much longer because of where they were, she wanted him to let go. His cheek brushed hair that had fallen in front of her face aside so he could kiss her cheek. She turned her head into the kiss, parting her lips wishing she could touch him. Their lips parted, tongues met and danced. He tasted and felt so good.

He didn't last much longer, breaking the kiss he scraped the side of her neck with his teeth as he finished inside of her.

They stayed like that for a minute, maybe two. He didn't stop at her neck right away either. He finally released her, settling her feet against the floor again.

"We can still do this later," she whispered, her back still to him.

"I'd like that," he whispered, running a fingertip along the spot he'd just been sucking on.

She turned to him then. He helped her refasten her pants and her shirt. He did the same with his own clothes, she helped him straighten his tie. He ran a fingertip along her neck when she finished.

"I left a mark."

"Oh well, let them wonder."

She shrugged and smiled, handing him the crumpled picture. "You'll need a new one of these I guess. Sorry."

"Don't be. I love that you come with such wild abandon."

"Do you?" She blushed a little, unused to talking like this.

"I do."

"I don't usually."

"That is very good to know."

"Don't go getting all cocky on me now."

"I thought you liked when I did just that. Evidence tells me so."

"Cute," she said, smiling widely. She cleared her throat as a phone rang. "So, my place later?"

"I'll be there, Olivia."

"I'll be waiting."

"Is there anything you'd like me to bring?"

"Yourself?"

"That I can easily manage," he said, reaching for his phone.

She was very glad the phone hadn't rung just three minutes ago. It would have been very inconvenient timing. She checked one more time to be sure she looked okay, prepared to leave so he could take his phone call without her standing there listening in like a dolt.

He held up his finger as she opened the door, stopping her from leaving altogether. Uh oh, she knew that look on his face. It wasn't good news and she hoped she wasn't going to feel guilty for having an orgasm a few minutes ago while something bad was going down somewhere.

Of course, there was always something bad going down somewhere. If that was the basis for how she decided whether she was entitled to sex or an orgasm, she'd never have them. And, she mused to herself as her eyes traveled the length of Phillip Broyles body, she was beginning to realize she liked the potential there was for differing ways to achieve them.

~The End~

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