Shows end, jobs change, but one thing that apparently remains the same is my tendency to crank out Waige smut at work when I'm bored. I hint at plot, but let's be real, it's just to excuse them being in the situation they're in.

It was the biggest cliché.

The awkward 'exes have to work together' scenario.

The car stakeout. Together. Alone.

The weird noise outside that turned out to be a tree branch cracking in the wind but had initially caused them both to duck down in the back seat, not wanting to be spotted by anyone passing by.

It had to have been the back seat. Because the car had to look abandoned when the dealers came by. Just as Happy and Cabe had to leave lights off in the cabin just fifty feet away.

These factors all led to that moment, sometime around midnight, when Paige Dineen and Walter O'Brien found themselves pressed up against one another, awkwardly avoiding eye contact until it was accidentally made and then they couldn't look at anything else.

It was the biggest cliché.

Hands started wandering, like they were a couple of kids testing boundaries. His chest. Her hips. Coms came out of their ears and were switched off. Their lips met, the kiss almost immediately taking on a level of ferocity, as if neither wanted it to stop but both were afraid that it would. She hiked her leg over his hip, sucking on his lower lip while simultaneously caressing it with her tongue. He'd somehow gotten an arm around her, holding her close, and her hands made fists around the front of his shirt.

"Sorry," he said, tearing his lips from hers almost the exact moment she became aware of his erection. He placed a hand on her stomach and pushed her gently away, rolling more to his back and separating their bodies the few inches that it was possible. "Sorry." He looked up at the roof of the car, letting out long, low breaths. After a few breaths, he sat up, shaking his head.

She knew that look. She knew those breaths. They'd almost been caught having a quickie in the loft on several occasions. This was how he cooled down.

She didn't want him to cool down. She thought that was clear by the way she was acting. So maybe…?

"Do you not want to?"

He looked at her incredulously. "It's a bad idea. We just got the team back together. This is our first job, and it's such a major one."

"All of those things may be true, but it isn't what I asked." She put a hand on his knee, inching it up his leg when he didn't protest. She stopped with her fingertips just short of their destination. "I asked if you wanted to."

"I don't know how to answer that question."

"It's a simple yes or no."

"No," he said, "it isn't. Do I want you? Yes. I want you so much I wake up frustrated in the middle of the night. I want you so much I had to change the soap in the bathroom at work because it reminds me of your shampoo and I can't be getting hot and bothered every time I wash my hands. I want you so much my body is literally shaking right now with the effort that restraint requires." He was telling the truth. She could feel his leg quivering under her hand. "But I don't want to ruin the team. We so nearly already did that. And I don't know if letting this continue would do it."

"It wouldn't. Not if we're both adults about it."

"We both fail at being adults sometimes. Badly."

"That's fair." She felt slightly dejected. "But…recognizing that is half the battle, right?"

"You're supposed to agree with me that it's a bad idea," Walter groaned, closing his eyes.

"I said it might be. But…" she flexed her fingers against the cotton trousers, reminding him how easily she could take this further. His eyes followed her hand. "I've got that ache within me that only you can make go away." She slid her hand back down, almost to his knee, then retraced its path up his thigh. "I won't touch you without your permission."

"Touch me," he said immediately. "God Paige, please touch me."

She moved her hand over, applying pressure and friction through his clothing, and his hand slid to her leg, fingers gripping it as his eyes closed and head tipped back. His other hand moved down near hers, undoing the buttons that kept the clothes between them. Paige busied herself with removing her sweatpants and underwear, only waiting until Walter's were to his knees before she straddled him. She reached between them, stroking him a few times before positioning herself and starting to lower onto him. She gave a sharp gasp as her body flexed around his, familiar and new all at once.

Walter groaned quietly, a word he didn't normally use rushing from between his lips. "I thought I remembered how good you feel," he said. "But I didn't."

"Same," she managed as she began to move, her body quickly refamiliarizing itself with one she'd thought to never be acquainted with in this way again. It was a different part of her brain that had broken up with Walter; the part that sent all these deliriously pleasurable signals had been angry with the break up part every day since it happened.

"Oh no," Walter gasped, and Paige immediately went still. "Wait, already?"

He shook his head. "No, no. But it's safe to say my stamina is gone." He looked away from her. "This is embarrassing."

She reached out, placing her hand on the side of his face and making him look back at her. "Don't fret. I'm going to be pretty easy myself. Heck, I'll race you."

She began to move again, quicker this time, sinking deep onto him with each thrust and knowing this method would likely get him over first. As badly as she wanted release, as tightly wound as her body was, few things gave her a greater thrill than watching Walter slowly lose control. She'd flat out give up an orgasm for that, even though the last time she'd had one with someone else it had been with Walter, in the loft, the morning after he'd told her she was the love of his life.

His fingers dug into her legs, the sounds he made growing louder and shakier. She was confident he was desperately close when she head him speak, alarm in his voice. "Paige, stop."

She did, lifting up and off of him, her eyes searching his face questioningly.

He let out a few of those deep, controlled breaths before speaking. "We don't have a condom and we can't make a mess of this car."

Well shit. He was right. Paige swung her leg over and scooted away so she was kneeling on the middle seat. She spied the lever that adjusted the passenger seat. "I know," she said, reaching over and pushing it to make the seat move forward, giving her room in front of Walter. She eased into the small space, her body between his knees, and took him in her hand, tipping her head to the side and running her tongue up the length of his shaft.

Walter's hands were pressed into the seat. "Paige, you don't have…"

"I got you too worked up to not. And judging by how hard you're breathing, I sense you really, really need it." She flattened her hand, moving it slowly up and down with her palm against him.

"I mean, it's not like I don't…I mean, it's just…it's different when it's you."

"I understand." She maneuvered herself to be able to reach up and kiss him gently on the lips. "Duets and solo acts are different for me, too." She moved back downward, her tongue running along the same path it had before. She hesitated before taking his hand in one of hers. She didn't want this to get too intimate, too far beyond the impersonal we're just fucking in a car, but she also couldn't fathom having sexual contact with Walter and pretending like it didn't mean something. "Squeeze my hand when you're gonna come, okay?"

He nodded.

Paige wrapped her lips around him and plunged her head down. She usually started out slower. Walter's body shook beneath her. She was pleased at that. She rubbed his thigh with her free hand continuing to rhythmically bob her head until she recognized his exclamations and dropped all the way down, hollowing out her cheeks until she felt his hand clamp around her own. Lifting her head partway, she continued with the suction until a rush of warmth filled her mouth. The fingers on her free hand squeezed her thumb, fighting off her gag reflex, keeping herself in place until she was sure his climax had ended. Lifting her head, she attempted to swallow, but she was out of practice, and her throat refused to cooperate. She threw open the car door and spit into the dirt. Hoping to regain some sense of dignity after that, she wiped her mouth with her sleeve and closed the car door with a smile. "There. One powerful orgasm and a spotless car."

He smiled at her as he gasped for breath. "Not all heroes wear capes."

She laughed.

"Just give me a moment," he said, "and I'll take care of you."

"I don't see the logistics of that happening in this car," she said. She crawled back up, sitting down on the middle seat.

"Interesting," he joked, "you've never doubted my abilities in this area before." He motioned for her to move back into the front seat, and he maneuvered onto his back, laying with his head on the seat behind the passenger, his legs bent at the knee, feet against the driver's side rear door. He motioned to her.

Paige grabbed the extra hoodie she'd brought with her. "Put this under your head," she instructed, although he was already moving to do so. Glancing around – they weren't expecting anyone to show up until much later at night, but the last thing she needed was for someone to arrive early to find her sitting on her ex's face – Paige crawled back into the back seat, one knee on either side of Walter's head. She couldn't really see much out of the windows, anyway. Her feet couldn't comfortably settle anywhere, but as soon as she lowered herself down to Walter and he wrapped his arms around her thighs, hands kneading her ass, any slight discomfort from the positions of her lower legs became the last thing on her mind.

She braced herself with her hands on the armrest built into the door, hoping it wouldn't accidentally open. Dropping her head, she focused on her breathing, wanting this to last because he'd always been good at it and her body had been craving the way his lips and tongue always moved with both the skill he'd acquired over the year they were together and the enthusiasm of when he'd been learning.

"Oh shit," she gasped, pushing her hips down against him, wanting more, more, more of what he was doing. His hands gripped her tighter and he groaned against her flesh, making her whimper. "God, Walt." Her favorite type of intimacy was when he was inside her, when they were both experiencing each other at the same time and could look into each other's eyes. But this part, oh, this part was glorious, too. And maybe it was better that most of their activities tonight weren't that face to face intimacy. Maybe that would help her stay strong.

She was sweating, the car's windows thoroughly fogged, and she was finding it harder to regulate her breathing as Walter drew her body closer and closer to euphoria. "More," she whined, her fingertips and knuckles white against the side of the car. "More. More, please."

Walter was nothing if not willing. Oh God. Paige's breathing sounded impossibly loud in her ears. "Yes," she moaned, squeezing her eyes shut. She pressed her lips together, suddenly feeling the need to ride it out in silence, but when he buzzed his lips in just the right spot, she let out a sharp cry, her muscles convulsing as pleasure rushed through her body. She moved backward, her hips over his stomach, giving him room to breathe. They both just watched each other for several minutes as they caught their breath.

"God, Paige," he said, his eyes glinting in the little light they did have. "That was…" his chest moved several times before he completed the thought. "That was so hot."

She nodded, still breathless herself. "Times like these…and I have no problem believing you're a genius."

"You doubt me at other times?"

She could tell by the way one corner of his mouth was turned up that he was joking with her. She swatted his chest playfully. He batted her hand away, his small, crooked smile turning into a full-fledged grin. This was nice. This was easy.

Then they both froze, staring at each other again.

"Paige?"

"I don't know," she said, knowing there was a question in the way he said her name. "Walter, I don't know."

"Well," he said, sitting up, "I feel it."

"No, I mean…" she reached out, taking his hand, both of them looking down at their fingers curling around each other. "I feel it. It's impossible not to. That's not…"

"Maybe…maybe this was a bad idea."

He tried to move his hand from hers. She clung to it like a lifeline. "No. Don't say that."

"What do you want me to say?"

She wanted him to ask for her to be with him again. But she wasn't going to ask him to do that. She still had a shred of dignity left.

That, and she didn't know what she would say if he asked. She just knew she wanted him to.

She let go of his hand and wiggled out of her flannel, which was sticky with sweat, and took the hoodie that had been under his head and pulled it on as she located her sweatpants and underwear. "We should try to sleep before anyone shows up," she said.

"Paige-"

"Just…" she looked at him pleadingly. "I'm not saying no, Walter. But I think we both need to sleep on it. And then…and then we can talk." She bit her lip. "Okay?"

He nodded. "Okay. We can sleep on it. Although if we want to make the car look abandoned from the front, we've got limited options back here."

Walter was right. They basically were limited to trying to sleep sitting up, or spooning. And the latter was the only real way to make the car appear to be empty.

"Don't try any funny business," she whispered minutes later, her back against his chest, several layers of clothing between them but the heat from his body still warming hers.

Walter gave a small laugh. "An interesting point to start laying those boundaries."

"Shut up." Paige closed her eyes, a small smile on her lips. She had a pretty good feeling that after their talk in the morning, Walter would once again have permission to start waking her up any way he pleased.