The Temps:

Gar, Victor and Richard were all very successful businessmen, working under the same roof. In other words … they were temps.

Garfield Logan (or Gar) didn't like the early mornings, but no matter how early or how late he came in he could always be found playing solitaire, or any other computer game without sound.

Victor Stone either worked hard, or not at all, there was never an in-between. Whenever a copy machine, computer or any machine in the vicinity broke down, Victor was your man.

Richard Greyson had a sugar daddy. Seriously. His father was so loaded he could have bought out the Calgary flames…but Richard was still there. If you asked him about it he said he wanted to make it on his own. So why not start at the bottom.

But they all had their jobs in common. Water-cooler conversations, coffee breaks and lunch hours were all spent in each others company. Once or twice a week the three amigos would go for drinks after work. A cozy little bar with darts, booths and alcohol. The most important element.

The water cooler conversation:

The golden trio never actually used the water-cooler when they gathered around it to chat. Something about what one of the past temps said had kept most away from the plastic contraption, even if he was known to be more than a little paranoid. Never the less, the water cooler was where their conversations took place.

Temps would come and go without so much as a glance from most. But when the new guy is sexy, attractive and in fact not a guy, our three bachelors couldn't help but notice.

"Someone new was hired last week," Victor mentioned.

"Someone new is always hired every week," mumbled Gar from his position leaning against the wall.

"Have you seen her?" Richard questioned. More than you know Gar smirked. "Have you? She-…uh so are we going to drinks tonight?" His sudden topic change was questioned until the new girl herself walked by.

The knee-length black skirt and black blouse she wore contrasted sharply with her pale skin and highlighted her eyes: the deepest blue you would ever see. Her curtain of sleek, black hair shifted as she walked, almost seeming to be tinted purple in the fluorescent lights above them. The scent of lavender seemed to follow her wherever she went, only dissipating from the area when she disappeared around the corner.

"So we are still on for drinks tonight, right?" asked Victor, just incase she could still hear them.

"Why not. It's Friday, I don't have any weekend plans."

"Well, I've seen her now," Gar pointed our to Richard.

"And don't try to deny the fact you were oogling."

"You know Mark, the guy in the cubicle next to me?" Victor leaned in and placed his elbow on the water jug. "Remember his cheek was red on Tuesday? It was because she slapped him for looking down her shirt."

"She's probly amazing in bed."

"Oh I bet she's at her best with her back against a wall." Gar put in.

"How would you know?"

"…It's always the quiet ones."

"Mmm, I can't wait till next week."

The Copy Room Collision:

Gar was dragging out the small task of copying a few sheets of paper, so as to avoid going back to work. It was pathetic really. A 24 year old man so desperate to get out of work. Filing no less. He wasn't in the room for long before someone stepped in and he caught a whiff of lavender.

"Mr.Logan, we meet again. In much better circumstances than last time however."

"Rachel, what was so bad about our last meeting? I rather liked you bedroom. Never would have thought you were the type for silk sheets… Though we didn't use them much did we?" Gar turned to see her expression, even though he knew he wouldn't see one.

"I was too busy trying to figure out why you were in my apartment to notice what we were or weren't laying on," she countered.

"You know as much as you enjoy making sarcastic quips, I think what you really like to do is wrap your legs around me, and scream at the top of your lungs. You're a loud one aren't you?"

"You're lucky the door's closed."

"Well look at that, it is closed. And it's just the two of us in here. How conveineint." He remarked, stepping closer to her.

"You're an idiot." He noted she didn't step back.

"Which apparently makes for great sex. I must admit, I don't think you'd make that kind of noise for just anyone." Something flared in her eyes for a moment before she spoke up.

"My place tonight. Are you in or out?"

"Definatly in."

"Good." She picked up a package of printer paper before she left, ignoring that he had a perfect view of her ass, and the fact he was taking full advantage of it.

Those Silk Sheets:

That night objects were tipped, clothes were torn and screams were heard. Rachel had her black silk sheets twisted in her hands after finding nothing else to grasp onto. Gars lips would occasionally graze over her neck, but he was mostly pre-occupied with other things.

Their activities continued on and off all night. Rachel's neighbors were mostly retired. Too drugged up to notice if a hurricane was coming, no one would notice what was going on.

Every time her hand ran through his hair, of she let out a moan (or scream) or pleasure, a thought always came to mind. He had been right. She didn't make this kind of noise for just anyone. And he planned on keeping it that way.

and they lived happilly ever after... after they both got real jobs for three years, got married in vegas due to a drunken confession of love and had three children. Did you like it? the first M rated thing i've ever written.

Read and Review please. I'd like to know if i still have talent