Disclaimer: Characters and Warehouse 13 do not belong to me.

Trigger Warning: non-con

This is my first fan fiction so I'm not sure about rating/labeling. This is smut, with some feelings, and not much of a plot.

I wanted to wait until I finished it before publishing, but I can't seem to write the ending. So I'm posting this to, hopefully, motivate me to finish.

Thanks to hossluver and everythingelseistakenagain for their input.

Pete was sitting at a bar, a drink in his hand, with no memory of how he got there. His head felt fuzzy, he shook it trying to clear his thoughts. Doing so caused a chunk of hair to fly into the side of his face. He spit a piece from his mouth. That's weird, he thought, am I wearing a wig? God, how drunk am I? He raised his eyes to the mirror behind the bar, released a completely unmanly squeal, and promptly fell off the bar stool he was perched on.

Suddenly, memories came flooding in. He was at the B&B with Kelly, getting snacks from the kitchen. Then there was pain, a swift jerk, darkness, confusion, and finally, he came to in a fairly inebriated body. Myka's body. He was struggling to bring his thoughts together and figure out what was happening, when a cell phone vibrated from a purse in front of him. Hoping that it was Myka calling with sorely needed answers, he groped through the bag for the phone and pushed it to his ear.

"Myka?" He cried, voice coming out much too high-pitched.

"Yes, Pete." came the reply, in his voice, but with Myka's exasperated and slightly panicked tone.

Pete sighed with relief, but another thought pushed through. "I'm drunk Myka. I've been drinking," he sniffed the glass "vodka tonics."

She cut him off. "No, no, no, Pete. I drank three vodka tonics. I'm so sorry, if I'd have known we were going to switch bodies, I'd have drunk juice. Please promise me you won't drink."

"Don't worry, I remember this feeling and it doesn't end well. But this is going to be hard to explain at my next AA meeting."

Pete sighed and dragged Myka's body over to a full length mirror away from the bar. His gait was awkward, encumbered by high heels, the alcohol flowing through Myka's blood, and the rather tight dress she was stuffed into. Myka explained that it was the griffin that caused the swap. Maybe there was another one that they needed to find? But when Pete caught sight of himself in the mirror, he stopped following the conversation. His hands crept unconsciously up to Myka's breasts.

"Oh yeah, we definitely switched bodies."

"Pete! Take your hands off my breasts!" Pete dropped his hands as if scalded.

"Myka! How did you even know. . ?" he trailed off.

"Because you're still you and I'm still me even if we're in different bodies." Myka said decisively.

"Okay. How do we fix this?"

"I'm going to get the griffin and I'll be there as soon as I can."

~M~

Myka hung up and groaned, looking down at Pete's shirtless body. And I looked so nice tonight she thought grumpily. There goes any chance I had with Kurt. At the thought of him, she felt a twinge in her abdomen and a slight but unmistakable hardening even lower. She flushed; she so did not want to have this knowledge of Pete's body. She had to get to that artifact.

Myka chuckled at the thought that she had just given Pete's body its first hard-on while thinking about another man . . . well, at least as far as she knew. Her smile faltered as she thought of Pete stomping around in her body, it would have been funny if she wasn't so mortified. Great, as if everyone didn't think I was weird enough in high school. She just hoped Pete didn't make too much of a fool of her before she could get her body back. Just then she felt two small arms encircle her from behind. Oh shit, Kelly.

~P~

Pete rubbed his mouth roughly, trying and failing to get rid of the taste of Kurt's tongue. He couldn't believe how comfortable he had gotten in Myka's body. Apparently, all it took were a few dozen chicken wings and a discussion about football strategy and he had relaxed enough to let that guy kiss him. Surprise kiss him, not like he let him, it was a total sneak attack. Shaking his head in disgust, he made his way unsteadily toward the reception area. He was going to try to sleep this buzz off before Myka got here. Digging the room keys out of the purse, he distractedly shoved one at the person behind the desk.

"I need to leave a key for someone. Myk- um Pete Lattimer for room-" he squinted at the key, "303."

A pretty blonde smiled up at him. "Of course, I'll be sure he gets it. Is there anything else I may help you with?"

"Well," Pete perked up when he took in the blond. He flashed his best charming smile, leaning forward, and dropping his voice to his sexiest register. "You know, I may just look like a pretty face with a rockin' body, but I've protected the President." The blond looked at him curiously.

Pete continued, "in the interest of national security, I'll need to frisk you because your body is a dangerous weapon." The blonde's head snapped up, eyes narrowing for a second before bursting out into laughter. She stifled it quickly. With a quick glance around, she leaned forward, eyes gleaming, and breathed, "Have a wonderful night Ms. Bering."

Pete felt himself flush deeply; he had forgotten who he was again. He definitely needed to sleep before he did something to completely embarrass himself, or more accurately, Myka. Hold it together Pete, he thought, turning and swiftly moving to the elevators. As he stepped in, the woman caught his eye; she smiled and gave him a quick wink before the doors slid shut. Interesting . . . maybe this could be fun after all. No, shaking the thoughts from his head, that would be several levels of wrong.

Pete managed to get the room door open after sliding the card through several times. He bent to remove the heels. Finally, he thought, those things are horrible. He considered taking the dress off but didn't think he could handle being tempted by Myka's almost naked body. A shiver raced through him thinking about an undressed Myka and, for the first time, he contemplated the situation he found himself in. He felt the beginnings of desire shoot through his borrowed body. Before he could properly chastise himself for lusting after his friend, two thin, strong arms snaked their way around his waist pinning him to a soft and decidedly female body.

He hadn't time to figure out what was happening, when a disconcertingly familiar voice breathed into his ear, "Darling, you look delectable tonight. I thought I would positively melt with desire before you came upstairs."

A disconcertingly familiar British voice. In a flash, Pete reached for the gun Myka had attached to her inner thigh, and really why was she wearing a gun at a high school reunion, twisting himself out of the woman's grip. He spun around and leveled the gun directly at HG Wells' head.

"Really, darling, I thought we were past all that. Unless this is a new game?" She lifted her eyebrows inquiringly.

"What, what are you doing here HG? What do you want?" Pete spat out.

"You didn't think I'd pass up the chance to catch you away from the warehouse and the other agents did you? As for what I want, I thought I made myself very clear the last time we met. You certainly didn't have any questions, though admittedly, you were having trouble stringing together coherent sentences." HG smirked at that, and then sobered as she looked at Myka quizzically. "What is this about? Have you had second thoughts?"

Pete was trying very hard to make sense of HG's words. She couldn't be saying what it sounded like she was saying. "Are you telling me that you and My- me, we- wait, that's crazy . . . you, you're evil and My- uh I'm not, not . . ." Pete's head hurt from the speed of the thoughts flying through his alcohol soaked brain.

HG took advantage of his distraction to twist the gun from his hand and throw it on a chair. It happened so fast Pete didn't have time to react. He was being pushed up against the wall with HG's lips pressing against his neck. "I assure you, you most certainly are."

HG's mouth was making it hard for Pete to focus. He wasn't sure how he should feel about this new information. Obviously, he couldn't trust her, but Myka wouldn't . . . if she didn't trust her. But Myka wouldn't, she didn't, she would've said something to him. This was major, and they are partners, and HG is dangerous, and really sexy, and definitely dangerous. In the end, anger won out. Anger and betrayal, and jealousy? No. Anger.

Pete pushed at HG, attempting to get free. For her part, HG pressed closer, trapping his wrists against the wall and pressing her thigh firmly between his, spreading his legs and immobilizing him further. Feeling her thigh press into him, he couldn't help the moan that left his throat. HG chuckled wickedly. "It seems you do, in fact, want me to stay."

God, this was wrong in so many, many ways. Myka was going to kill him. At the thought of her, Pete's anger flared up. She deserved it; she was sleeping with the enemy for god's sake! She was lying to them all, to him. What was she thinking? He doesn't even know who she is.

Somewhere between HG's tongue pushing into his mouth and her hand slipping under the hem of the dress, when had she let go of his wrists, Pete stopped thinking. Rage and alcohol making him reckless, he grabbed HG by her waist and spun them around. Shoving her roughly against the wall, he ran his hands over her body. He kissed her hard, hungrily licking her mouth, pushing past her teeth. Angrily attempting to devour the hurt trying to bubble up into his chest. He wound his hand around HG's neck, wrapping her hair between his fingers, and pulling her closer to his mouth.

HG gripped his ass bringing their hips together, Pete shoved his leg between hers and she ground her hips down hard. Pete released her mouth at feeling her damp heat on his thigh. He looked down at HG. Flushed and breathing hard, her eyes were black with desire, lips red and swollen. She looked delicious, desire raced through his body settling wetly between his legs.

No doubt, HG was beautiful, but Pete didn't need a vibe to tell him that she was bad news. She doesn't deserve Myka. Evil or not, HG was bound to hurt his partner, and he couldn't let that happen. They were never going to forgive him for what he was going to do. He probably wouldn't forgive himself either, but if this could stop whatever was going on between them, it would be worth it.

Fierce determination ran along his spine. Anger fueled his lust, and he ripped HG's shirt open. He roughly palmed her breasts, tearing her bra to expose her chest. HG was surprised, her eyes widened momentarily, but her head rolled back and she arched into his hand, moaning, as he harshly grabbed a breast, pinching her nipple hard. Spurred on by her response, Pete mercilessly sucked and bit his way down her neck. There would be bruising later, best not to think about later.

Now, though, HG was letting out a string of downright unladylike expletives. It had the effect of making Pete, if possible, even wetter. He brought his head to one glorious breast, biting down cruelly on her impossibly hard nipple, letting his tongue soothe the flesh before biting down again harder. HG was moaning and writhing against his mouth, twining his hair in her fist. She pulled him closer and forced her leg between his, rocking him against her pant enclosed thigh. He froze at the unexpected sensations searing along every nerve in his body. Oh God, that was through layers of fabric, he couldn't imagine how it would feel skin on skin, fingers, lips and tongue caressing him. An inhuman sound escaped his lips and his hips bucked involuntarily seeking out the sweet torturous friction once more.

HG's hands working at the zipper of the dress snapped him back to some semblance of control. He jerked her hands away from the zipper and brutally brought them above her head, restraining her with one hand, the other viciously scraped its way down her body until it met the fabric of her pants. Pete concentrated on getting his fingers to coordinate enough to pry open the button while attacking her mouth with his. Neither of them noticed the hotel door opening.