Title: Office Space
Prompt: 060 Drink
A/N: This was inspired by my finding a picture of a shirt online that just looked perfect for Kitty and Pete. I realize that the smut-bit itself is intensely similar to what I wrote in "Midnight Snack," but they were started at totally different times. They just happened to be finished and posted around the same time.
FYI: This story follows a month or two after "Fancy Dress."
Beta'd by Nancystagerat
Pete wasn't sure what on Earth Pryde was doing at Portwell House so late at night, but when he'd returned home from Downing Street, the voicemail waiting for him had told him that that was where she'd be.
Well, part of him hoped that she was there for a little late-night booty call, but with all of the work they had to do on their latest case, that was exceptionally unlikely. Besides, if that's what she wanted, she could have just as easily told him to come back to the flat, and he would have come home so fast that it would have given Wagner a run for his money.
Nah, he knew that it was likely that she was doing some late-night work. It was just as well, anyway. He had some work of his own to finish, and he might as well have her company while he worked. If she could be talked into coming out of her lab in order to bring her computer upstairs to his office.
The cab dropped him off in front of the house, and he scanned his ID card. The system opened the front door for him and he got onto the lift, heading for Kitty's lab first.
The door was open, and when he looked inside, there were several heads bent over the several hundred machines that Britain's tax dollars had bought for MI-13. However, a quick survey around the room showed that Pryde was not among them.
He recognized one of the girls sitting at a large, three monitored machine near the door.
"Hey, Mel? Have you seen Kitty?"
"Yeah. She was here a while ago. She said something about getting files out of your office." Melissa shrugged. "She hasn't come back down yet, so I'd check up there."
"Thanks." Pete nodded, heading back to the lift.
The sliver of light coming from under the door to his office indicated that Kitty was still inside. He was glad. It'd be easier to convince her to hang about and keep him company if she was already there.
He slid his keycard again, opening the door.
Whatever he'd been expecting when he started for his office, it was not what he found when he got there.
Kitty was sitting at his desk with her long, pale dancer's legs crossed on top of it, ending in a pair of black heels. Not the small, blocky heels that Pete was used to seeing her in, but instead, a pair of high, stiletto heels with a patent leather strap that wound its way around her slim ankles.
As his eyes moved upward, he noticed that she didn't appear to be wearing a skirt. Instead, that smooth skin disappeared up underneath the bottom of a white dress shirt.
At first, Pete thought that it was one of his own white shirts, after all, it was definitely one of his own black ties knotted loosely around her neck. However, closer inspection revealed that this shirt was made of some sort of sheer fabric. It was practically nonexistent, in fact.
She smiled when she saw him struck obviously speechless and slowly pulled her legs down, standing up and moving away from the desk.
"Hey, Wisdom. Good meeting?"
"What?" Pete heard what she was asking, but somehow the words didn't make any sense. Of course, that could have been due, in part, to the fact that her new position made it apparent that she was definitely not wearing a bra. Her perfect breasts were clearly visible through the fabric, as were the black, lace boy shorts that she was wearing underneath.
It might have been, in Pete's opinion, the single greatest shirt ever created.
"I asked if you had a good meeting." Kitty grinned, amused at Pete's lack of eloquence.
"Oh. Um, yeah. Yeah. Great meeting." Pete fingers were twitching at his side. He wanted to get that shirt off of her.
"Sounds like it." She nodded, moving over towards the antique liquor cabinet in the corner. "Drink?"
"Yes." Pete might have been agreeing to let the skrulls back into England for all he knew. He shook his head, clearing it. "Wait… what?"
"For God's sake, Pete, it's a shirt."
"Correction: It's a brilliant shirt."
"Right. Do you want a drink?"
"Oh. Yes. Thank you."
Kitty poured Pete a glass of scotch. As soon as she handed it over to him, he drained it, giving it back to her. "Any chance of a refill?"
She refilled the glass, and this time, Pete only took a small sip before setting it down on the edge of the desk.
"So, Wisdom, anything else that you'd like?" Kitty struck her patented 'center-fold' pose, and it was all that Pete could do not to jump her right then and there.
"I think you know exactly what I'd like." Pete grinned back. "But, I think that, first, I should ask you what this all is, like?"
"I haven't seen you all week." She shrugged. "I decided to show you what you were missing."
"And well done, you." Pete snorted. "I don't think I've ever seen anything that I'd be sorrier to miss."
"Well, good." Kitty pirouetted, showing Pete the full effect of the ensemble. She looked perfect.
"So, uh, I don't expect that you'd be interested in—" Pete stepped closer.
"Fucking on your desk?" Kitty waggled her eyebrows, the effect comical but not stopping Pete from finding her unusual profanity arousing all the same.
"Actually, I was going to suggest that we do it on the couch. But, now that you mention it, that is a rather nice desk."
"Hell yeah, it is." Kitty nodded. "Plus, I don't figure that you can truly know what you're missing unless we do it where you actually work."
"That makes sense to me." Pete stepped closer again. She backed up a step. He cocked his head in confusion. "You gonna hold still, Pryde?"
"Nah." She shook her head, backing up further until she could pull herself up onto end of the desk closest to Pete. "If you want me, you're going to have to come over here to get me, Pete."
"That, I can handle." Pete smiled, moving closer to her, intent clearly written on his face.
"Oh, I know that." She lay back on her elbows. She was fully knowledgeable of how this position placed her breasts on tempting display, and Pete never was good at resisting temptation, particularly when it came to Kitty.
By the time she unbuttoned the shirt, Pete was already there, his hands ready to cover her exposed chest and stroke their way down her torso.
Kitty leaned up, then, capturing Pete's lips in a desperate kiss, dragging her own hands down to yank his shirt up out of his trousers.
He wasted no time divesting her of her knickers. After all, there was a time and a place for slow-paced lovemaking, but this was not it. And judging by the way that Kitty kicked said knickers violently off of the ends of her feet, phasing them when they caught on her heels, she definitely agreed with his assumption, but Pete was glad to see that, in all of their time together, she'd learned better than to remove the shoes.
His fingers delved between her legs, finding her surprisingly damp already. Kitty had always been easy for Pete to arouse, but it generally took at least a little more effort on his part.
His surprise must have registered on his face, because Kitty smirked and shrugged. "I was bored waiting for you."
"So you…" Pete grinned.
"In your chair." Kitty smirked wickedly.
Pete kissed her again, hard. She reached down, then, showing a rare moment of mercy and phased him out of both pants and trousers. Usually, she liked the tactile sensation of undressing Pete, but under the circumstances, she was willing to make an exception in the name of mutual satisfaction.
She lay back all the way, then, and Pete stopped his ministrations both of her breast and between her legs to grab her hips, pulling her all the way to the edge of the desk so that he could position himself at her entrance and push inside of her.
She wrapped her legs around his hips, pulling him closer and allowing him deeper access, and they both groaned.
She was pushing upward, meeting him thrust for thrust. Pete was exceptionally glad, at that moment, that you needed a keycard to get into his office. Then, randomly, something else occurred to him.
"Hey… Pryde…" He puffed out, in time with his thrusts. "What about… the… cameras?"
"Manual Override." Kitty ground out, clutching the edge of the desk with one white-knuckled hand. Her other palmed one of her breasts, trying to ease the ache where Pete's hands, gripping her hips to pull her to him, couldn't reach. Although, Pete also had a hunch that she knew that he didn't mind the show, either.
She was getting very close. Pete could tell by the way her breathing sped up. He took advantage of her proximity to climax to speed up his movements. He was trying to help himself get closer, but the abrupt change in speed proved too much for his girlfriend, and she arched her back off of the desk as her orgasm caught her off guard.
The combination of the physical sensation of her muscles tightening and the incredible visual that she presented as she lost herself were really all of the additional stimulation that Pete required and he followed her moments after.
Ordinarily, Pete would give Kitty a little more space right after sex, but their current position didn't really give him the option. He dropped onto her, and she huffed in response.
"Sorry." He muttered.
"I… it's the… Uh… yeah. Hold on." Kitty sighed heavily, clearly frustrated with herself. "Okay. Full sentences not my thing at the moment."
"I'll take that as a compliment, I guess."
"Take whatever you want, just don't make me move."
Pete snorted, the air causing the very ends of her sweat-soaked hair to move.
"Fair enough. 'M I too heavy?"
"Nah. Not for now, anyway."
"Good. I don't think my motor skills are much better than yours at the moment."
They lay there in silence for a few moments, Kitty running her fingers through his hair, and Wisdom might have even fallen asleep had she not spoken suddenly.
"Okay, bub. Get off." She shifted, dislodging him. He stood, and began to look for his clothes.
Kitty sat up, stretching, rolling her eyes at Pete's intent gaze and wolf-whistle. "Yeah, yeah. You've seen it, Wisdom."
"Doesn't mean I'm tired of it." Pete shrugged, buttoning his shirt and extending his arms pleadingly for her to fasten the sleeves for him. He never could get used to actually fastening the damn things.
"Good to hear." She smiled, not at all uncomfortable with her nudity around Pete. She'd gotten over that years ago, and Pete thrilled in the mature and confident woman he'd helped her become.
"I can say it anytime you want." He smiled, something occurring to him. "So you're going to give the driver quite a fright going home in that shirt."
"I brought other clothes, dorkfish." Kitty shook her head. "I didn't wander the halls of Portwell House in that thing."
"I wish you would." He waggled his eyebrows.
"You liked it, then?" Kitty grinned, straightening up from behind the desk with a duffel bag in her hands. "I thought it was appropriate after that little ensemble you put on for me last week."
"In all honesty, Pryde, I think that it's one of my absolute favorites of all the things you've ever bought." His face split in a wide smile.
"Ah. Well, I'm glad you liked it." She stepped into her jeans, sweatshirt and sneakers. Pete pouted comically.
"Where'd the shoes go?"
"Oh, relax." Kitty rolled her eyes, raising her right hand and beckoning him over. "Come look."
Pete wandered over to her side of the desk. Kitty had opened the bottom drawer of his desk.
Inside were the shoes.
"You put them in my desk?"
"That way every time you open that drawer, you'll remember this."
"Pryde, I don't think there's any possibility that I could ever have forgotten it." Pete smiled. "But I'll take the reminder anyway."
"Ready to go back to the flat?" Kitty pulled her duffel bag over her shoulder. "I don't know about you, but I need a shower."
"Good plan." Pete took her hand, walking with her to the lift. "But, Pryde?"
"If the PM finds those shoes in my desk, you're going to have to explain it to him."