Fic: Not That Sneaky: The Sequel (2/7)
Title: Not That Sneaky: The Sequel
Pairing: Ben/Leslie
Rating: R
Word Count: 1200 (this part)
Setting: During Pawnee Commons (this part)
Summary: A sequel to this fic. In other words, five more times Ben and Leslie were caught/interrupted during sex.
A/n: Hey, remember when I thought I was going to get this posted quickly? Probably not, because it was so long ago. Thank you to everyone who left feedback on the first part. This craziness wouldn't exist without you.
Prologue
Part One
Burt Macklin learned the hard way that playing by the rules only gets you so far.
After all, it was playing by the rules that cost his partner his leg; Champion had been the best dog the FBI had before that explosion at the boathouse. If Macklin had just shot the maniac responsible when he had the chance, Champion would still be out in the field. But no. He'd followed protocol-listened to the higher-ups and robbed the best damn agent of his leg.
No, Burt Macklin no longer follows the rules. And if that means he has to steal the keys to the best room in City Hall-no, wait…FBI headquarters-for his own retirement ceremony, so be it.
Consider it one last act of rebellion. One last chance to be the rogue agent he's always known he is.
Of course, it won't be easy. Stealing keys from the FBI director is like stealing candy from a baby with a bionic hand. She's not going to give them up without a fight. This requires stealth. And stealth may not be Macklin's best skill, but he has a secret weapon; one the FBI would never approve of; one that could cost him the Medal of Honor at his retirement ceremony.
It's a risk he has to take.
Macklin approaches the door outside the director's office slowly. The director has been in and out of the building all day, but as he creeps toward the door, he can hear her voice as clear as day. She's talking to her number two, Wyatt-the biggest stickler for the rules that Macklin's ever met.
This might be harder than he thought.
"You know you can't actually set fire to someone's house," Wyatt says. "That's arson."
"It's only arson if they can prove you started it intentionally."
"Leslie…"
"Okay. Fine. No fire. Are you satisfied?"
"Yes-"
"We'll just come up with another plan."
As Wyatt sighs one of those deep, long-suffering sighs he loves so much, Macklin crouches down and looks into the room. Wyatt's got his hands on the director's shoulders, but her arms are crossed; whatever they're arguing about, Macklin knows their distractedness will only aid the plan. Quietly, he bends down and rolls into the room, hiding behind the permit desk and waiting for the signal to make his move.
"You know what the best revenge would be?" Wyatt asks. "If we go hear Reston out. Get his side of the story."
"That doesn't sound like revenge."
"Well…uh, just think about how pissed his coworkers will be if he, um, designs this beautiful park for us."
"You saw the kind of park he wants to build for us, Ben! Would you call that beautiful? Because I'd call it the worst insult in the history of the universe!"
Macklin peers around the desk. It's been awhile since he's heard the director so pissed. It's hard not to jump in and remind her that he's always ready for a good revenge plan, especially if it's retaliation toward someone threatening the FBI. Wyatt may never go for it, but Wyatt doesn't have to know.
Damn it, Macklin! Stay on task! You're here for the keys.
"I just think we should hear him out," says Wyatt. "And if he's really behind it, I promise, I will help you get revenge."
The director looks slightly hopeful. "Really?"
"Sure."
The director takes a step toward Wyatt, one hand grasping a fistful of his shirt and pulling him closer. "What kind of revenge?"
"Um…Maybe we could, um, get him to pour salt in his iced tea instead of sugar. Then his iced tea would be too disgusting to drink."
"Or we could cut the brakes on his car."
"What? I don't-"
Wyatt doesn't even have time to form the protest before the director kisses him. It's pretty gross. There's a lot of tongue involved, which is more than Macklin wants to see, but when the director backs Wyatt into a nearby wall, he has an uninhibited view.
And the director definitely has one hand down Wyatt's pants.
"It is so hot when you talk about vengeance," the director mutters. Her hand moves, and Wyatt groans. It's a terrible idea, Macklin thinks-the director and her number two in an illicit relationship. But who is he to judge?
After all, he's in love with a criminal mastermind.
The director pulls her hand out of Wyatt's pants and starts to undo his belt, and Wyatt finally seems to come to his senses. He pulls back, his hands gently cupping the director's face. "We can't do this here."
"Sure we can. No one is around. We'll use Jerry's desk."
Macklin tries not to laugh.
"Les…"
"Come on, Ben." Her hands, which paused when Wyatt pulled back, start to work at undoing his pants again. She leans up and starts kissing his neck. "What else are you going to do to get back at Reston?"
Wyatt leans back, his head hitting the wall as the director gets his pants open and slips her hand in to start stroking him. "Oh god-We could, uh, put sugar in his gas tank."
"I love that all of your revenge ideas involve sugar."
Wyatt moans as the director begins to move her hand faster. Macklin can't deny it-the director definitely has some skills in this arena. It's only a little surprising. After all, the director is pretty amazing at everything. Apparently even sex stuff.
"What if we wrote something mean on his car with whipped cream?"
This time the director moans, pushing up on her tiptoes and kissing Wyatt hard on the mouth. They're both breathing pretty heavily now, and Macklin's starting to think they're not even going to have time to defile Jerry's desk, which is a shame. Jerry's the worst agent in this place. It would be-
"Ew, god!"
Wyatt and the director jump apart as Macklin whips his head back toward the door, shocked by the sudden interruption of his criminal mastermind girlfriend. This isn't the plan they agreed upon, damn it! He's supposed to be the distraction and she's the stealth. And now-
"Andy?"
Andy glances up at Leslie, who, despite being a little disheveled, is definitely better off than Ben. "Hey Leslie." He stands up and looks over at Ben, who has turned toward the wall and leans against it like he's trying to hide. "Hey Ben."
April steps into the room and grabs his hand, dragging him toward the door. "God," she grumbles, "isn't it bad enough you guys do that stuff at home?"
She tugs at his hand again, clearly ready to leave, but Andy pauses for a second. "Hey, you guys know what would be an awesome revenge? Put syrup in his shampoo bottle."
Part Two