Delicately, as though he were about to perform a high risk surgery on a patient close to death, he reached out in the general direction of Marie's posterior, which had been swaying before him for all too long. Oh, it was true that, for a while, he had managed to keep the temptation at bay. He remained in his chair, which he lowered to the very bottom so that he had a more clear view of her, and he sat on his hands so as not to be tempted.

But it was not to be. For a man who prided himself on his willpower, he had succumbed so easily to the pendulous sway of her hips. And when she finally moved in front of him again, having reached for the purse she had on his desk, he chose that moment to strike. Gently, carefully, he finally gave in to temptation and touched the swell of her backside, on the left, he noted.

She didn't even make a sound of confusion.

"Franken," Marie said, flatly, but there was no warning and so he pressed his palm against her until he had tenderly and efficiently cupped one of her buttcheeks.

"Hmmmmm?" he asked, glasses sliding down his nose as he tried to resist the urge to grab her with his other hand, as well.

Well, actually, scratch that. He might as well make it a party.

"Franken, you do this every time," Marie said, putting her purse back down as Stein pressed all ten of his fingers into her flesh, marveling.

"You're just…so anatomically perfect," he said, and though a big part of Marie wanted to say 'thank you', because, damnit, those squats had paid off, the majority of her just wanted to actually do something productive that day. Save for being marvelous, of course. She turned around in his hold, and, giving credit where credit was due, he managed to make the motion seamless by barely moving away before settling his palm back upon her. She looked down at the top of Stein's head as he leaned forward and rested his head against her chest.

"Franken, we're married. You act like it's the first time you're touching my butt every time you do this."

"Yes."

"You did this this morning."

"Best morning of my life."

She sighed as he began to knead at her flesh, his large, capable hands knowing just what to do to cause a pleasant shiver to run up her spine, but she had things to do, that day. Things that were not him. She was never going to get anything done if he kept doing that.

"Get off," she said, though a part of her really didn't want him to.

"Right now? On this chair?" he teased, giving her a slight squeeze.

"Oh, that's not what I meant, you pervert!" she said, reaching down and lightly slapping his hand away. Stein looked up at her, pulling away with a hurt look, bringing his now injured appendage to his chest.

"That was cruel," he stated simply, certainly not pouting. Absolutely not.

"Yes, yes. Poor baby. I'll kiss it better when I get back from the grocery store."

"I meant forcing me to pull away. I was making observations."

"You've been making 'observations' for hours. I haven't been able to leave because you keep touching my butt."

"It brings me tranquility," he said, utterly shameless. He smirked as he added, "From the madness. Wouldn't want me succumbing to that, as you well know."

Oh, sure. She completely bought that.

They both knew that the only madness he was being affected by when around her recently certainly didn't seem to make him dangerous. Not to her, at least. In fact, the last time he'd said that, muttering that he was in need of her wavelength, was just that morning. He was damn well in need of something, Marie thought wryly, but it certainly wasn't just her wavelength. At least, not from what she could infer from when he couldn't stop getting handsy in the kitchen and they'd ended up making out that teenagers who couldn't keep it in their pants whilst she was seated on the sink, getting soaked. And not from the water. She'd burned practically everything she'd attempted to cook in her valiant attempts at keeping him from the "brink of madness". Valiant attempts that ended up burning their meal not just once, but three times.

They were well and out of food.

"Yes, well, even if that were true, you can't exactly eat me for breakfast now can you? We need food in this house." And, before he could open his mouth to inform her that he had, in fact, eaten her for breakfast for a good few days now, she slapped her palm over his mouth. "Don't. Even. Start."

When she moved her hand away, rolling her eye, there was a smug grin on his lips and his usually lazy expression, with eyes half-lidded, matched all too well. The man had utterly no shame.

She'd never admit that she was endeared by it. Marie shook her head, finally turning around and making her way out of the lab.

She couldn't help but feel that he was all too pleased with himself as he watched her walk out, so she made sure to pop her hips side to side just a tad more prominently, hearing him give off a muffled groan as he, undoubtedly, watched the sway of her backside.

Marie should have known she'd only get halfway to the door walking like that. The same thing had happened just an hour ago, anyway.

As he followed after her, hand catching her hip, she sighed, though it came out more amused than exasperated, and she leaned into his touch instinctively.

"What is it, now?" she asked, peeking over her shoulder and up so she could take in the way his pupils had dilated, the green of his eyes slivering, but instead of answering, he simply moved his palm back to its original, familiar spot, his heat comforting in ways she never, in the past, could have imagined it to be. She giggled as he bent down, burrowing his face in the crook of her neck, nuzzling.

She had a hypothesis that she wasn't going to be going anywhere that day save for perhaps the couch. Or the bed. Or maybe just his lap while he sat in that chair of his.

And, truthfully, she really didn't mind.