Angela was cursing. Quietly, but quite colorfully. It made Dingo smile, though he made a mental note to keep her away from Barry in the future. She was using words in languages he was pretty sure he'd never heard of and their munitions supplier was the only person he could think of who might have taught them to her.

As near as Dingo could figure, the source of her frustration was the general heat of the desert at midday. Or, rather, the fact that they'd been out in it for more than an hour now, hiding behind this damned uncomfortable rock formation, and their quarry had still yet to surface. Dingo was accustomed to long stake outs, so he wasn't concerned, things happened, after all, and even criminals could be delayed. Angela had been raised in a much different environment though. To her, timeliness was important, and even years on the surface hadn't broken her of that habit.

Dingo shifted slightly, easing the beginnings of a cramp from his left leg. He popped his neck and flexed his fingers, wishing the rock was big enough to risk standing to stretch his back and arms. It wasn't, so he settled for crouching forward, back pulled into a taught arch, like a cat's, arms out behind him. It took him a moment to realize his companion had fallen silent and he tilted his chin back to peer at her under the brim of his hat.

She was watching him.

He smiled. "Hey." He brought his arms back around to rest on his knees and leaned his back against the outcropping behind them.

She blinked and her gaze darted down to his hands and then back up to meet his. "Uh. Hey." Her answer was quiet and absent. Distracted.

His smile widened and he deliberately moved one arm to slowly stretch above his head. Angela's eyes followed the motion.

This was kind of fun. He wondered how long he could get away with it before she clobbered him.

Dingo stretched each limb, one at a time, with careful deliberation, and Angela's gaze glazed over as she tracked them. Maybe it was his imagination, but she seemed a little more flushed now – like maybe it wasn't only the desert sun affecting her. He picked up his canteen and took a swallow. Her gaze drifted to his Adam's apple and she bit her lip.

He held the canteen out toward her.

"You want some?"

She didn't answer, eyes still trained on his throat.

He cleared it. "Angela, water?"

She started. "What?"

He shook the canteen and the water sloshed against the sides. "Water?"

"Uh, sure."

Yep, definitely extra red in her cheeks there. He wasn't sure why she was embarrassed though – it wasn't like she didn't distract him too. In fact, the drop of water that escaped the corner of her mouth and was now trailing down her neck toward her collarbone was a pretty worthy distraction, if anyone asked him.

He wanted to lean forward and catch it on the tip of his tongue. Wanted to follow the path it would have taken, down her neck, across the dip between her collar bones, further. He swallowed hard against the desire, his fists clenching against his thighs. Damn, he wished this guy would hurry it up. There were much more pleasant ways to spend an afternoon.


Angela lowered the canteen and held it out to Dingo, frowning when he didn't move to take it. Her gaze moved to catch his, only to find him staring intently at the general vicinity of her shoulders. Her brows furrowed and she swiped at a drop of water tickling the skin there. As she did he swallowed and his fists tightened at his sides until the knuckles were almost white. Seemingly unconsciously his eyes followed her hand as it slid from her neck, down her side, to rest in her lap.

He licked his lips.

Angela smiled. He was distracted.

Turnabout was fair play, she figured. That little stretch show a moment ago had definitely been intentional. Not that she minded. She was damned bored and it wasn't as though she didn't have the right to stare at Dingo whenever she wanted. He was hers, wasn't he?

Still, it was a little embarrassing to be caught out in the middle of a job. Which was why she had every intention of returning the favor.

She trailed her hands down the side seam of her pants, delighting as his gaze followed. Next she traced the full line of her sides up to her neck and slid her hand around to gather her hair and lift it off her nape, arching her back to assist in letting what little breeze there was reach her sweat slick skin.

Dingo's fingers twitched.

She smiled, a sly little grin. Yeah. Thoroughly distracted. Maybe it was a good thing their mark hadn't shown yet.

She released her hair, deliberately letting it fall wild so that the ends brushed his bare arm on the way down. Dingo's eyes followed the descent, a shiver and a slightly audible intake of breath revealing the effect the contact had on him. His eyes were slightly vacant now and she wondered what fantasy was playing out in his head at the moment, and how closely it mirrored the one she'd indulged in a few minutes ago.

She bit her lip and considered leaning forward to make at least part of that fantasy reality. She didn't have much interest in sex out in the open – and definitely not in the middle of the desert. There were places she'd rather not get a sunburn, and even more that would not appreciate invasion by the abrasive sand. But there were a lot of fun things that could be done with all their clothing still in place.

There could be kissing. And caressing. And maybe grinding. Grinding usually led to the removal of clothing, but they were both adults – they could exercise some self-restraint.

Her limbs twitched at the thought and she braced her weight on her hands, prepared to push herself off the ground and straddle him. There was a low hum in the distance, but she ignored it, much more interested in the hungry light that kindled in Dingo's eyes when he realized her intent. His hands started to raise, as though to reach out to assist her, but then they closed convulsively as his eyes widened and he swore.

Angela blinked, confused at the sudden change.


"Gotta move, sweetheart," he interrupted before she could even get the one-word question out. He was already scrambling to his feet – though Dingo never really "scrambled", his movements were too smooth to ever be called a scramble, he was moving with alacrity though. He reached a hand down to pull her to her feet. "Our guest is a little late."


To Angela's shame it took her a few seconds to reconcile his words, and when she did she cursed loudly and colorfully.

Now? Their mark had to show up now? Of course, better now than in five or ten minutes. How embarrassing would it be to have their man escape because they were too busy making out to notice?

Angela felt a flush creep up her neck and scowled. Dingo laughed, evidently completely unrepentant.

"Get a move on, Ange," he admonished lightly. "Now is not the time to be distracted."

She almost threw something at him. Almost. Only, there really wasn't any time to waste, and there wasn't anything to throw either, since he had the canteen. Besides, there were better ways to work out her annoyance – like catching the jerk who'd interrupted them.

"Get in the go-cart, Dingo," she growled.

Dingo grinned and bowed his head as he complied. Angela grumbled as she climbed in beside him.

"This is all your fault," she complained.

His eyes twinkled. "I know."

It wasn't, and they both knew it. Still, she wasn't going to concede.

"Idiot," she grumbled instead.

Dingo's grin only widened, and damned if she didn't find her mind wandering back to thoughts of kissing it right off his lips.

She hunched down in her seat. "Just drive," she muttered, "or he'll get away."

"Right, right. I'm on it."

Angela crossed her arms and stared sullenly out into the desert as they gave chase. Dingo was an excellent driver, and familiar with the terrain, so it wouldn't take them long to catch up. Pretty soon they'd have this guy collared and be back on their way to town.

Dingo's hands moved on the gear shift and her eyes were drawn there against her will. He had elegant hands. Capable hands. She loved the things he could do with those hands – both on the job and in their personal life.

She sighed and let her arms drop into her lap. Honestly, there was no point in keeping up a front. She could never stay angry at him for long – he was just too damn distracting.

A/N: I remembered! So, we had a one shot on distraction before they are a couple and now one after. A little UST. Please forgive any typos - having a very hectic/rough work week so my brain is lagging a bit. Thanks for reading!