This Love

5

a/n: i just had two cups of coffee and im on a writing spree (im also ignoring my schoolworks until they go away)

enjoy!!

-jyka💕

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Ben frowned as Miranda dragged him to an abandoned room on the Psych floor. His right hand was sore, and he tried to flex it, only to wince at the motion. His left hand was in hers, fingers intertwined.

"Miranda, why are we here?" He asked as she took a key from a hidden part of the door, and opened it.

Before the door opened, he thought that the room would be abandoned, and full of dirt, but when Miranda opened it, the room was clean, no signs that it was without care. "Woah."

Miranda smiled softly. "Welcome to my office."

"H-how?" He scrunched his nose up, looking at the office table and chair, two beanbags in the floor, and a couple of closets behind it. Near the closed window, was a small couch large enough to fit two people. The decor was simple, yet beautiful. "You... have an office that nobody knows about?"

She laughed, and shrugged, sitting on the beanbag. "It's rumored that the abandoned rooms in the Psych floor are haunted. And I never really believed in something without proof, I mean, except God, so ghosts never really scared me. I go here to escape, when everything is overwhelming out there." She paused, pointing to the door. "The Chief found me here one day, and he said I could have it, but never tell anyone about it since that would create rumors about bias."

He smiled. "It wouldn't really be rumors, since you do get an office and we don't."

"You're welcome to share this one with me." She smiled, then her gaze landed on his hand, and she shook it off, replaced by her infamous glare. "Now, let's stop with my storytelling and start with yours."

Ben nodded. "It--

"Wait," she stopped him, and headed to one of her closets, muttering, "I think I have a first aid kit here."

He sat on the office chair, and looked at her desk, the pictures making him smile. The one on the right with her son, Tuck. Miranda had him on her hip, and they were both smiling widely. Ben knew about her son, but he didn't know what he looked like. On one glance, the boy's features didn't look at all like his mother's, but as he observed the twinkle in his eyes, and the huge smile he wore, Ben was assured this was definitely her kid.

The other picture was, as he assumed, young Miranda. She had pink coke-bottle glasses, and her hair was in long braids. She was smiling cheekily in the camera, proudly wearing her clean white coat.

Miranda cleared her throat behind him, and he turned around to see her observing him. "Admiring my pictures?"

He smiled sheepishly. "I got bored."

"Well, I found the kit, go to the couch." He stood and followed her order, making room for her on the couch. "I'll wipe the, um, blood off first, and clean the wounds."

Ben nodded mutely, watching her examine his hand carefully. Her touch was soft, and he found himself mesmerized by her.

She wiped the blood with care, and grabbed the small bottle of alcohol. "This is going to sting."

Before he could react, she was putting alcohol on his wounds. He winced, but made sure his hand was steady in hers. "Ow."

Miranda ignored his comment, and took a petroleum jelly from the kit. She applied it gently, her eyes focused. After that, she bandaged his hand, going from around his palm and knuckles. "Change the dressing before you go to sleep." He nodded and they were quiet, when Miranda spoke again. "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

She shook her head, sighing. "For involving you in this. Look at you. If I wasn't involved with you, they wouldn't have talked about me, and your hand would be just fine."

Ben cupped her chin with his uninjured hand. "Don't be sorry. Don't apologize. Between you and me, he was an ass, and he deserved it."

"What did he say anyway?" Her eyes were filled with curiosity, and she moved closer to him, their thighs touching.

"Something about how you are in bed." He gritted his teeth, his mind rewinding the bold, and disgusting words. "That's all I'm saying."

Miranda huffed. "Seriously? I mean, people have talked about my body for years, and they thought I didn't hear. It just went above my head, because this body is just... flesh. It doesn't matter, as long as they don't touch." She hummed, moving closer to him, resting her head against his shoulder. "Not that they would dare anyway."

"How about me? I can't touch?" He asked cheekily, making her laugh. The tension created by the fight from a few seconds ago was gone, replaced by an easy, and flirty atmosphere.

"I guess I can make an exception," her voice lowered seductively, and her lips pressed to his.

It started out soft, and gentle, but it soon turned intense as Ben nipped at her bottom lip. She moaned softly, urging him on. Careful not to injure his hand even more, he cupped her cheek, and his other hand lowered from her shoulder to her breast, squeezing it, making Miranda gasp.

He plunged his tongue in her mouth, exploring every inch. She groaned, the sound muffled by his lips.

Ben pulled away, and trailed kisses down her jaw, to her neck, making sure no skin was left untouched. He sucked her earlobe in his mouth, and Miranda moaned loudly, her hands roaming from his head to his broad shoulders.

"Mandy--" The door opened, and Richard's voice boomed in the room.

With a yelp from Miranda, they moved away from each other, their hands finding each other like magnets, trying to maintain their contact. "S-Sir!"

The Chief had a flushed look on his face. "I-I... I'm sorry. Torres told me you found out, and I thought you would be here... I should've knocked." Ben bit his lip to keep himself from laughing. "I'll, um, talk to you later."

As the door closed, Ben burst out laughing, recalling the embarrassed look on Webber's face. Miranda looked at him, her face flushed as well. "What are you laughing about? That man is my father-figure, and he just saw you on top of me."

He kept laughing, until she hit him. "Hey! I wasn't on top of you."

Miranda rolled her eyes. "Yes, you were."

Ben bit his lip. "No, you'd know if I was."

"And you were." Damn, this woman was stubborn.

He smirked at her, and before she could ask what his look was about, he laid her down on the couch, putting himself on top of her, their lips only an inch away from each other.

Her eyes widened, and he could see her pupils dilate. Her chest moved up and down in quick breaths, as she looked from his eyes to his lips. "Now, I am," he whispered, letting his breath land on her slightly opened lips.

Miranda moaned softly, her hips subconsciously thrusting against his body. He groaned, keeping his hands there to steady her. He felt himself get hard, and with their closeness, he knew she could feel it too.

"Ben," she whispered, her eyes fluttering close.

With the ounce of control he had left, he stood, pulling away from her. Her eyes snapped open, looking at him like he took her favorite toy away from her.

"I told you, you'd know," he smirked, and opened the door, leaving her in the room, trying to make sense of what just happened.