agentcampbell | OUR car?! (RP with isabelowens)

Current Mood: aggravated
Current Location: FBI Headquaters, New York City

OUR car?! (RP with isabelowens)

Campbell had been preparing to check his blood sugar when Isabel had flounced in and practically slapped him in the face with a pair of panties in a small plastic baggy thing. She distracted him and stabbed his finger much harder than he should have. "Ow, fuck!" he cursed, dropping the small monitoring lancet onto his desk. He quickly smeared the blood droplets onto one of the strip and shoved it into the small electronic meter, then pushed out of his chair to stalk over to Isabel's desk.

"What?!" he cried in aggravation, throwing up his hand.

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Isabel waved a hand at him, as if to tell him to fuck off. She didn't dare open her mouth because she knew it would only make things worse.

"Just keep the fucking slutty underwear out of the company car. Is that too much to ask?" she hissed through clenched teeth.

So much for staying quiet. Her gaze was still on the case file, and she spared a moment to feel bad that he'd jabbed his finger so harshly, but then the anger was back and she reached out for her pen only to find it gone. Again.

"And where's my goddamn pen, Campbell?"

"Oh, up your bloody tight arse, for all I know!" Campbell hissed as the meter beeped is his hand. He checked the reading and swore, pulling her desk drawer open roughly and stealing a Hershey bar she had in there.

He peeled of the wrapper, scowling at her. "What's it to you, anyway? We're allowed to do whatever we fucking like with those cars in our own time short of totalling them!" He shoved the chocolate bar into mouth, still managing to scowl as he chewed angrily.

"Son of a--" she jerked her head up, leveling him with a glare usually reserved for the worst criminals when they had them in interrogation. "My ass is not tight. Just because I don't want to find some slut's stained panties in that car doesn't mean I'm uptight, you prick!"

She watched him chew on the candy bar, and rolled her eyes as she grabbed the reader out of his hands. She looked at it before throwing it back at him. "Suicidal prick."

"Kiss my arse!" Campbell threw back. "Why the hell were you looking close enough to even know they were stained?! For someone with a lack of interest in my sex life you have an awful lot of interest!"

Behind him, Campbell heard Jacobs snigger at his desk a short distance away. True, these types of explosions between him and Isabel were about as regular as the sun coming up at dawn, but no one ever stepped in and they preferred to just sit back and watch the fireworks. Of course, it never helped when they hit dead ends in cases. It only ever fuelled the fire more.

"I don't fucking know if they're stained, or not!" She stood up, and took a step towards him. "I'm only guessing since you're such a Lothario. Figured you'd be making her soak her panties with those baby blues."

Isabel glanced past Campbell's shoulder to send a look to Jacobs that clearly said she'd be dealing with him later. She looked back at her partner and snorted in disgust before turning on her heel and heading to the photocopy room. Some might call it running away, she called it self preservation. It had to be the fact they'd hit a dead end that had set her off. The panties had just been the soiled icing on the cake.

Which meant Campbell had no intentions of dropping it at that. He stormed after her, banging into a chair as he went and nearly castrating himself. As if the day couldn't get any worse. He caught up to her and intercepted between her and photocopier, leaning back onto it so she couldn't use it.

"I didn't fuck anyone in the car, for fuck's sake!" he said, glaring at her.

"Then just fingered! Or went down on! Christ, I don't care about the logistics." She thought about sidestepping him to get to the copier, or even just physically removing him. Instead she went with whacking him in the chest with her paperwork.

Campbell caught the paperwork, the force of it knocking the breath out of him. "Why the hell is this pissing you off so much?!" he asked in exasperation. "It's a freaking pair of knickers! Which I will get back to in a minute. I want to know why you have such a huge bug up your arse!"

"Because talking about your ridiculously large appetite for sex with everything that moves, and seeing it are too different things. And yes, I know that finding a pair of 'knickers' isn't the same as walking in on the middle of you fucking someone, but it is! It's no longer separated from this space. This space which is work, and us, and being partners." She huffed out a breath, her hands going to her hips as she started to pace.

Campbell had been finishing off the chocolate bar as she spoke, leaning against the copier with his hand on his hip, eyes watching every move she made. He tossed the wrapper in the bin beside the machine.

"They're Frank's."

"Frank's?" She stopped to look at him, her hands still very firmly planted on her slender waist. "Frank's? So what, he just decided to fuck someone in our car? Or you were doing him?" She held up her hand. "You know what? I don't care. I officially no longer care. I just don't want to have to find anymore panties in the car. And they're not even panties!" she cried in exasperation, clearly not done just yet. "It's fucking butt floss! Why put anything on at all?!"

Campbell pursed his lips, cocking an eyebrow at her. If this wasn't PMS, nothing was. "Because guys find it attractive. It's the thrill of it. That's why they make them," he said with a wave of his hand. "I was logged to take the car last night and I did. Frank and I went for a drink, some drunk floozy - hence the butt floss - was all over him. I had a headache, didn't feel that well." He took the sugar monitor out of his pocket and waved it at her for emphasis. "I got a cab home. He stayed sober to bring the car back to HQ for me. Obviously, he didn't bring it straight back."

He screwed his nose up. "I can't believe you would think I would fuck Frank, of all people!" he snorted.

"You fuck everyone, Campbell," she growled. She had to clamp her mouth shut before she added 'except me', because wouldn't that just be a fun conversation to have? "Okay, fine. The butt floss isn't yours." She picked up the paperwork. "Now can I use the damn photocopier?"

"No," Campbell said simply. "What is wrong with you? It's going to be hard to track the case if you hate me today."

He shifted so his weight was more balanced against the machine in case she decided to push him away. "And having a healthy sex life doesn't mean I fuck 'everyone'. It means I have a healthy sex life. Some of us need that in a job like this."

"And here I was thinking that what we really need in a job like this is people that care about us. So go! Have your healthy sex life. I'm going to actually some work assuming you ever let me near the photocopier."

She glared at him, nostrils flaring in anger. "And for the record, I don't hate you. I've never hated you. You should know better than that, loser."

"What we really need in a job like this is to not go home to an empty apartment every single night thinking the be all and end all is dead kids," Campbell added. "To know that human contact beyond stuffing your nose in a case file twenty four seven actually exists out there. To know that there may be an iota of a chance to find love... again."

He stepped away from the photocopier and waved his hand towards it, indicating he was done with his roadblocking of it.

"I know that, James," she replied as she opened the lid for the copier. "I just don't need to be sharing my bed with a different stranger every single night on the off chance I'll find something worth keeping. There isn't anything worth keeping. Not for me. Not anything outside of my family, and maybe you." She cleared her throat and pressed her palm against her forehead. "Even if you piss me off."

"Sometimes is just easier to lick the icing off the cake rather than keep the whole thing. Because sometimes before you know it, the whole thing is gone before your eyes right when you realise how much you really, really want it. Sometimes licking the icing off is easier and less messy..." Campbell stopped, the metaphor making his teeth (and his chest) ache.

He looked away with a sigh. "You broke my snark, you know. Now I don't even want to go and draw boobs on your filofax."

Isabel had crinkled her nose at the metaphor, beginning to think that there wasn't much hope in trying to grasp what he was trying to say. Instead she took a wild stab in the dark at what the gist of it was. "I don't want to spend the rest of my life licking the icing off... cakes. It's just going to make me ill."

She glanced over at him as she finished programming the copier. "How the hell did I break your snark?"

"Yeah, well, better that than losing another special cake..." Campbell's hand went to his breast pocket, patting around as if he was looking for something. "You being all pissy and cranky and accusatory. Gives a guy a tension headache."

He went to the pocket on the other side. "Fuck, I need a smoke."

Isabel produced his packet of smokes from out of the pocket in her pants and flashed him a naughty smile. "I maybe had one, or two before I found the panties. Whether, or not the irrational anger is related is up for debate."

Campbell snatched at the cigarettes and gave her a long-suffering smirk. "I should divorce you as my partner. It's been a shite day. You can take the butt floss up with Frank. I'm about ready to go drown my sorrows in a Diet Coke and at least two smokes."

"Oh I will," she said with the promise of murder in her eyes. Frank would be suffering a lot more than Campbell. "And you know you can't divorce me because that means I'm entitled to half your crap, and I might just decide to take a liking to your BMW."

She arched an eyebrow at him, and returned the smirk. "Grab me a soda, too?"

"It's a deal. Then the repaint of the dirty great key scratch up the side will be out of your pocket," Campbell said in annoyance, having forgotten about the paint work on his car again until now. "That's the last time I leave my car in a place like that."

Isabel pouted, and patted Campbell on the hip. "Poor baby. But now I know about the scratch, I don't think I want it... I'll have to think of something else to take."

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Page 1 of 3

OUR car?! (RP with isabelowens)

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject