Title: Bowmans Pheromones
Disclaimer: I've read somewhere that after fifty years a patent becomes worthless, and I'm not totally sure if it applies to TV shows, but for the sake of the argument I'll say it is. And with that in mind, WATCH OUT for 2050! This show will be MINE. Until then, no I do not own it.
Spoilers: The Love
Summary: He's beginning to enjoy this, her acting so flustered. It had been a long while since his flirting got her flustered. AU or missing scene for The Love. This is how the writers should have played it.
Notes: My first posted story, throw what you can at me. I tried present tense for a change, and we'll see how that goes, also, Nick is bit less child-like and more like NO INHIBITIONS. I hope to write more of this fandom, but I really need the help of you guys, the people who know this show best.


"Two more minutes!" Benson shouts out into the darkness, or more directly, Carl, who ten minutes earlier insisted the van be stopped or he'd pull a Bowman. Except his projectile vomiting would come from his nether regions. O'Malley is still rubbing his head from when it hit Benson's chair from the abrupt stop.

Quiet tension fills the car. That kind when a person wants to say something, but isn't quite sure how to begin, or when the opportune moment is.

"Kate, you shouldn't be so harsh on Carl. He can't help a biological need." That's not what O'Malley was going to say, but it would have to do.

Kate hasn't been able to help but wonder through her partnership with O'Malley how he would react if he were a bit... nicer. But this was (and is) overkill. So Benson turns her head to face Nick,

"Ok, you seriously aren't noticing how.. off you sound?" The question in her voice is contagious, and O'Malley copies her.

"Nope. Have you ever noticed how.. beautiful you are?" Ah, there is the something. Shock's the only adequate description of how Benson is feeling right now. Well, that and -

"Nick." Benson shakes her head.


"You aren't in your right mind."

"Yes I am."

"No, you're not. Because otherwise you would not have said what you just said." O'Malley's face is doing that cute little scrunching up thing that usually occurs when Jonathon says something particularly puzzling and O'Malley tries to decipher the meaning.

"Or maybe now I'm just comfortable enough to truly express the opinions I've had all along." Now it's Benson's turn to do that scrunching up thing, only it isn't nearly as cute on her. Instead of addressing the true feelings Benson is feeling, she changes the subject. Badly.

"Forget it."

"Forget what?" He's beginning to enjoy this, her acting so flustered. It had been a long while since his flirting got her flustered.

"Trying to make me think that getting a nose full of pheromone's is the answer to everyone's problems. Well I've got news for you O'Malley, it isn't." After a moment's pause, "In fact, my life has gotten a hole heck of a lot more complicated since you got sprayed." Benson looks up and notices that O'Malley has moved from the back seat to shot gun. He shouldn't be able to move so quietly so easily,' she thinks, 'it's unnerving.' It's making Kate wonder what else he's so great at.

"Or maybe it's becoming more simple and you just can't recognize it." His hand on her cheek is startling and out of reflex she jerks her head back, but he keeps her head steady with his hand.

"Nick?" Her breath gets caught in her throat, but O'Malley just smiles, rubs his thumb over her cheek, watching for the pupil's dilation. It happens alarmingly fast.

But he keeps quiet, watching her face for every little expression.

"It's amazing, the feeling I have right now. Can you imagine?" Benson manages a shake of her head, her mind curiously silent, waiting.

"Like you've just gotten onto the Farris Wheel with a person you've got a huge crush on, and the movement is making your stomach drop and the way the person you're sitting next to is making you feeling as if you're flying, and you feel like, no matter what, you can do no wrong." O'Malley has slowly been leaning closer until their faces are only inches away, and Benson can feel his breath on her face.

"I've never felt this before. Although I've come close when I'm close to you." And then the distance is gone, lips crashing against one another that curiously becomes soft. Benson moans against the feel of his lips, no longer trying to decipher what this means, and O'Malley takes the invitation to deepen the kiss.

Carl, normally a huge pain, met his usual standard and doubled it. Huge jarring sounds echo throughout the car, and in total embarrassment, Benson breaks off the kiss. Carl is outside the drivers window, smiling in a ridiculous way, as if he's just caught a free PPV showing.

"Hey there Carl." O'Malley smiles, looking not the least bit embarrassed or unhappy that Carl had just ruined their first kiss. Benson doesn't look so amused.

"Hey guys, what have you been up to?"

"Nothing." To breathy and fast, Benson has no clue what Carl's seen. The window's are curiously foggy.

"Doesn't look like it." Benson suddenly wants to act like O'Malley in his current position and needs to bite her tongue from spewing, 'You don't look like it,'

"Carl, just get into the damn car."

"Oh, but O'Malley's in my seat." A gun raises itself, but Carl just smiles, "You going to shoot me through a window?" A groan escapes Benson's lips, and she lowers the weapon. Her voice is softer and she pleads,

"Carl, just get into the back seat."

"No way, this may be the only time I have to be able to sit in the front." Carl turns his eyes to O'Malley who is still sitting way too close to Benson. Especially for her to think coherently. "Hey O'Malley, move to the back. Now!" And then Benson turns to O'Malley, even after all this, expecting him to give Carl some witty retort and then fly into a rage in which Carl is the punching bag. Instead he kisses her. It has a flicker of the same passion but ends abruptly, before Benson has time to react. Which is a good thing, she reasons, because she knows now that she can get lost in one of his kisses, and Carl is standing right outside the car.

"Nick?" A whispered question that is spoken before Benson can open her eyes, but the person in question doesn't respond. She opens her eyes and sees Carl climbing into Nick's vacated seat. In a way most unbecoming, Kate whips her head around, spotting Nick in the back, buckling up.

"You never can be too safe." Is his reply, and he speaks as if those six words are supposed to hold infinite knowledge. At a loss for how to reply, Kate turns around. And in just enough time to notice Carl is leaning precariously close to her, but not in enough time to lean back. She bumps into his face with her own. Never before has she accidently kissed someone, and it is not a pleasant feeling. But that may just be a by-product of kissing Carl.

"Carl!" She pushes him away with excessive force, and he bumps his head on the window.

"Hey!" Carl rubs his head while Nick starts a long speech about respecting people's choices. Kate doesn't even pretend to pay attention.

"Don't 'hey!" me! What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Well if O'Malley can get away with kissing you..." Carl's got that smile on again, and Kate realizes she needs to end this.

"That's because he's drugged up. You however, are not. And if you EVER try anything like that again or tell anyone about what just happened, I'll be more than happy to talk to the Captain about why, exactly, you were gone on the seventeenth." Carl's face pales as he tracks down what he did that day.

"Oh snap." Nick takes a break from his long boring speech to comment. And then goes right back into it.

"You're bluffing."

"Oh really? You know if you don't want others to know what you do while out of the state, you shouldn't use their phone to order-"

"ALRIGHT ALRIGHT. I'll behave." Sufficiently supplied with the knowledge that Kate knows exactly what he did on that Tuesday (which she doesn't), Carl stares straight ahead at the windshield. Kate waits a few moments, and when the only sound in the car is Nick's innate rambling's, she starts the car. After they've driven for a few minutes, Carl, unable to help himself, asks politely,

"So who's the better kisser; me or O'Malley?"

Ten minutes later, Nick is still preaching on about brotherhood while he rubs his second-time bruised forehead, and Carl is nursing a swollen eye and bruised jaw, complaining about police brutality. And Kate? She wishes they hadn't lost Ross Bowman.