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"This is bad idea. It's a disaster, and I look ridiculous."

Thankfully no one was in the ladies room to hear Robin talking to herself, let alone see her, but it was two hours after everyone else had left the office. Everyone except her and Dean. Dean was why she was about to make a fool of herself.

She shook her head and tugged at the costume again. "I am just no Veronica Tamas." The actress who played Beretta St. James, the lead in Tech-Trackers. Part of the problem was Tamas, as a deer, had wonderful legs put on display by the mini-dress length lab coat and the knee high black boots. With the long torso and short limbs of a mink, Robin wasn't pulling it off.

At least they both had the same moderate bust and lean body, emphasized by the tight, fully buttoned lab coat, and maybe her butt was acceptable? Granted Tamas had the little teardrop tail, so you could see it, whereas her fluffy brush got in the way. Her mocha fur was "passable" for the more reddish bark of the deer's fur, but Robin's plain black hair couldn't match Tamas's rich mahogany and red streaked locks.

Thankfully the character's hair style changed every other season; Robin was not going to cut her hair to the saucy bob just for this, so she went with season three's ponytail, high on the back of her head. "I look like a stripper playing doctor," Robin said, adjusting the dark horned rim glasses, and tried the St. James smirk in the mirror. Then she laughed and shook her head. The outfit was just ridiculous - no scientist would dress like this, especially not to go out hunting the rogue nanomachines they had accidentally released. But then a scientist out fighting while dressed as a scientist was about as bonkers as the rest of the show.

Focusing on her appearance distracted her from the tight knot in her belly, and the fur crawling up on the back of her neck. She could just change back into her normal clothes and go home and she could forget all this.

But if she chickened out now, she'd never do it. Never forgive herself, either. That and all the effort of putting this stupid outfit together would have been wasted, and the accountant in her tolerated no waste.

"Robin this is not like you! This is... this is so messed up that I'm talking to myself in the third person."

Yet in a way it did fit her. Whenever she wanted something desperately enough but no clear path to get them presented itself or when great risk stood in her way, Robin made a drastic charge head-first in hopes that by sheer force of will and luck things would come out all right. To get her first serious job out of college she called the hiring manager directly instead of going through typical channels. At age ten the desire to go to space camp consumed her, but she needed a science teacher's recommendation which he kept forgetting. Finally she entered the science fair with all the body's organs painted on her fur, and while she only made second place - stupid Willy Fenning and his stupid 'how far do germs travel' project - all the judges wrote her glowing recommendations. The memory made her smile.

Here she was, looking across at a different kind of space camp. Dean was the latest in a long list of guys she had been too scared to talk to or too hesitant to declare her interest. Enough, no more. Time to gamble with something new. If he laughed at her, well she could just suck it up and move on, but at least she'd know she tried.

Either way Robin was tired of standing in the ladies room being scared.

She took a deep breath and pushed the bathroom door open, only to almost stumble when she walked out. Not used to wearing heels, she had to get the hang of walking in the boots. The added height was nice at least. With the palpable weight and swing when she stepped, the audible click-clack of the heels on the tile, and the way they encouraged her to move her hips, Robin actually felt a little sexy.

That feeling increased as she passed through Personnel, and was somewhere around her ribs when she entered the next room and hit the brick wall of anxiety.

Against the backdrop of silence, Robin could pick out where Dean sat by the absent tapping of his foot against the desk. She imagined his bronzed-blonde fur standing out from the dull hues of the room, the way he bobbed his head while waiting for the software to update on whichever terminal he sat at.

She had only noticed him last month when he fixed the computer at the desk next to hers. Most of that first week had been spent watching him without him noticing, but they had talked, even over lunch. Enough for her to feel the shy glances, the smiles and conversational discomfort that she often felt too. Still he hadn't picked up on her subtle hints she was interested in him, and Robin was tired of waiting for him to take the initiative. Well he couldn't ignore this declaration of interest. Was he too shy? Dean was straight - the Beretta St. James figurine on his desk told her that, but Robin had no idea if he was in a relationship. The thought made her freeze up. What if he was? Or was only into some other species? Was that why he hadn't gotten her nudges?

Robin looked around. She found it downright eerie how empty and quiet the office was; usually it bustled with the noise of keyboards tapping, phones beeping, and the quiet rustle of clothes on fur. Even at lunch time Jerome would eat at his desk, or others would take their lunch an hour later, so there were always people in the room. The emptiness let her feeling vulnerable, like anyone could just step inside and see them.

She was stalling. Just do it.

Taking a swallow, she pushed further into the room, down the line, and stopped a couple of feet away. From here she could see the line of his side, the monitor's glow lighting his face in profile, and an earbud cord snaking down the side of his face to his shirt pocket.

It was hard for Robin to put a claw into just what attracted her to Dean. Physically kind of cute - more in the boyish sweetness of his face, the soft dark eyes, and the blonde-buff hue of his fur, a fairly uncommon shade for a mink, thus fetching. She wanted to think that while they didn't read or watch the exact same things, those tastes lived in the same neighborhood; maybe if they talked more, there would be some real overlap. What she avoided acknowledging was the fact they were the same species, and her biology might just be coming to collect - a fact her mother loved to sink her teeth in oh-so-often.

Robin struck what she thought was a suitably appropriate pose - fist on hip - and said, "Dean?"

No response. Oh right, the headphones. She said his name louder and got the same result. Robin snatched up an unused post-it stack and flung it at the back of his head. Direct hit!

First he jumped and glanced down at the post-its, then looked back at her just long enough to realize someone stood there before looking down at his shirt, turning off the tPod and pulling the buds free. "Sorry," he said and turned more fully to face her.

Behind the thick lenses of his glasses, Dean's eyes bulged.

"Does it uh... Do I look okay?" Robin dropped a paw to the belt around her waist, fiddling with it. Not wanting to go all the way to get an actual holster (or a gun for that holster), she'd clipped an old reading glasses sleeve to her belt.

"You look..." His mouth opened and closed, and he swiped his tongue out to wet it. "You look awesome."

In that moment she allowed herself to stop worrying about her appearance and actually look at his face. In his eyes, in the curve of his cheeks, Dean looked at her like other men looked at attractive women. He was looking at her like he wanted to look at her, wanted to see more, wanted her. Seeing that sent a rush fluttering through her, and Robin's ears, where they were flat against her head, burned. Everywhere unclenched, those too-hot ears lifted, and she actually smiled. "Really?"

"Yeah... There are a few things that aren't perfect but you're doing really all right." He looked away, then stood up. "So, are you going to a costume party or something? Going to a convention?"

"Not, uh, not really, no."

Dean tilted his head. "Okay. Wait, I thought you didn't even like the show?"

"I don't." She stepped closer, and her eyes dropped. "But you do."

His whiskers twitched. "Well yeah, I do but- oh." The implication registered across his face, and his tail flicked. "That's- that's- that's uh, does that mean... are you liking me? Do, do you like me?" The way he looked was just about how Robin felt about five minutes ago.

"Yeah," she said with a little chuckle, looking away. "You weren't picking up when I was hinting at being interested, and you weren't doing anything about it, so I thought..."

"There were hints? Erf. I thought you were just being... nice. So, can we go out? Not now, but just in general?"

Robin smiled with what she thought was allure, and half-lid her eyes.

For a moment Dean looked at her, cocking his head. "Uh, is there something in your eye?"

"No, no I'm fine." Okay, so she was not good at the sexy look. Instead she thought back to the paranormal romance books she liked to read, trying to find something witty and coquettish. Ah! "So, if I said yes, what would you do?"

"Probably say or do something really stupid. Yeah, yeah definitely that."

"You're doing fine so far," she said.

Dean chuckled and came closer. "That's because we only just started."

A silence seeped in between them, not uncomfortable but charged with a tension, giving a feeling like something was going to happen next but she didn't know what. Robin wanted it happen though, whatever it was.

Dean reached out, his paw moving close to her upper arm. Then, before he made contact, he pulled back, like maybe he thought she was electric. Robin reached up and grabbed his wrist, then pulled his paw onto her shoulder.

Their gazes touched.

For a moment Dean only squeezed her shoulder, then his digits inched up to graze her throat. A faint churr bubbled up as he stroked her so-soft fur, and she reached out to caress his wrist and forearm.

When his touch moved up to her cheek and muzzle, Robin closed her eyes and tilted into it, a soft breath escaping from her. The scent of him drew her in, her body easing closer to his until they bumped.

That caress lasted only a moment longer before he cupped her cheek, her whiskers brushed his, and she instinctively moved into the oncoming kiss.

Their teeth knocked together.

Robin yanked back, her eyes popping open, and a startled chuckle bubbled up between them.

Still he came in a second time and she had to give him points for the courage - and they were kissing for real. Letting her eyes close again, Robin sank into the kiss, although it was tentative and gentle, which was very all right with her. The warmth of his breath puffed across her muzzle, bringing her to smile against his lips.

It felt like they stood there for a blissful forever, caressing with their lips, inhaling little tastes of one another's scent at such an intimate distance. The tremble of a churr had built up mutually and their mouths vibrated against one another. Robin finally put her paws on his shoulders, one of his went to pet along her side leisurely.

It wasn't clear which of them had started it or when, but the kiss deepened, muzzles rolling in little circles, one of them nudging their face against the other, then the other would push back. Dean's paw slid from her side to the small of her back, and she arched, rubbing her front against his. That's when she realized how into it they were getting, and how far the warmth had spread through her belly and down.

During all this they must have gradually migrated backwards because Robin's tail first brushed up against a cubicle wall, and then her shoulders propped against it. When Dean leaned into her, she yielded and leaned back into the wall - and it shifted behind her with a rattling wobble.

They broke apart with a gasp and a stumble. Papers and other office detritus either tumbled to the floor or jarred in place, but they were far enough from the end that the whole wall didn't come crashing down.

Dean broke into the momentary silence. "Maybe we should sit down."

"Good idea," Robin said.

He sat in the chair and Robin moved to settle on his lap - the chair rolled to bang into the desk behind it while she teetered wildly. Sputtering a laugh, Robin said, "Okay, I guess that's not going to work either."

"Hold on." Dean stood and slid some of the desk debris to one side, moving a few heavier or more obstinate objects aside. He turned to her and patted the top of the desk, smiling.

Well, it wasn't exactly one of those 'shove everything off the desk in a moment of passion' moves, but she'd take it.

Still Robin paused. The interruption had sucked a little of the sexy spell out of the atmosphere, forcing her to regroup. Was this really the best place to do this? What was she expecting here, how far was she looking to go? What did Dean think of her, throwing herself at him like this, and if she didn't stop, would he think less of her? Would it mess everything up?

Hesitation crept into Dean's excited, hopeful expression until it frayed into anxious doubt.

For once, Robin decided that she didn't care enough to stop. This had all been a gamble, so she was going to let it ride.

She flashed at smile she hoped looked alluring, but this time with no attempt at bedroom eyes. Dean's face bloomed into an excited grin that sent her into an inward victory dance - she was beautiful, he wanted her, and she wasn't lame or undesirable. A thought gnawed on the tail of her celebration - was he just excited because he was a horny guy? Was he even interested in Her?

Robin threw that thought in a cellar and locked the door. No, no doubts were going to spoil this.

The mink crossed and perched her bottom on the edge of the desk. Though even as he moved closer, she struggled to find a good place to put her tail - the desk was still crowded and she'd likely pinch it against her body if tucking it under, so she curled the fluffy brush around his legs when he pressed against her.

After his mouth found her again, Robin gripped his shoulders and pulled him tight, meshing their whiskers in a deeper kiss. First wetting his lips with her tongue, she pushed it inside - only enough to flirt against him, then to draw back, successfully luring his into her mouth to play with. This time when their bodies slid against one another, she felt Dean's erection against her stomach before he tilted his hips back, hiding it from her.

If she wanted, they could have sex here. No one would catch them, the janitor's scent lingered in the air from maybe an hour before, and any smell of sex would have long since dispersed by morning. Hell, the enticing aroma was already beginning to spice the air. The sheer inappropriateness of that realization sent a thrill through her body. It would be the most adventurous thing Robin had ever done.

Dean's paw drifted from her shoulder to merely nudge the edge of her breast. Leaning her shoulders back and making space, she cupped his paw and pressed it over her chest.

He needed no further prompting. Any fledgling doubts she had that his hesitancy came from maybe being too inexperienced was brushed away by the skill he used to roll her breast between his fingers and fluttered his thumb against the nipple that perked against her labcoat. She was glad she'd taken her bra off when she changed; no second layer to dull the sensation of his claw as it dimpled the skin of her areola.

The confidence radiated from his touches, showing he had only been waiting for her to green-light where they could go. He was eager for this, eager for her. With confidence came more courage and his other paw rubbed over her stomach, then down across her thigh, and she pressed into it. One of his fingers slid in between two buttons to brush the silky fur across her belly. Her ticklish giggle and jerk tore the kiss apart.

She punched him in the arm, but couldn't help smiling at the sight of him grinning like a boy who just told his first dirty joke.

Dean took a moment to look over her, his eyes sparkling in amusement.

"Penny for your thoughts?" she churred, reaching out to brush nails through the fur of his neck. Oh, she had a good idea what lurked behind his hungry eyes, but the delight was in hearing him say it.

"Uh uh - it's really dorky and you'll laugh at me if I tell you."

"Yes, I probably will," she said, grinning, "but now I really want to know, so I won't hold it too hard against you."

He closed his eyes, probably not wanting to see her expression. "Sometimes, when I've watched the show and stuff... I've wondered what kind of underwear she'd wear. With the outfit." His fingers gave a delicate tug at the lab coat for emphasis.

It was a good thing his eyes stayed closed because while she didn't laugh, Robin winced and grinned at the same time. Still she shifted to press against the touch of his fingers, and when he opened his eyes, she said with as much husk as she could, "Well if you keep watching maybe you'll find out." A pause. "I mean, not the show, but keep looking." Ugh, that sounded better in her head. Along with stupid, did that sound slutty? Even as she doubted, she blushed, but the warmth spread down her body in a wave.

Both of Dean's paws came down to press along the outsides of her thighs. She readied for a kiss when he leaned in, but instead his muzzle dipped under hers and the fur of her throat tingled under his tongue, then his teeth, and she shivered all the way down. His paws smoothed over her bare lower thighs to rub the fur almost against the grain, making her squirm, his grasp shifting from the sides to the tops and then sliding higher. Instead of moving them under the "skirt" of the coat, they went over and opened the lowest button.

He tried to open up the inches bared by the labcoat but something stopped it. After several little tugs, he pulled away and they both glanced down.

The stupid freaking belt was in the way, holding her coat closed.

With a frustrated hiss she wrestled with it and snapped it off, before planting her paws on the table behind her and arching her back, presenting her stomach to him. Robin hoped she looked sexy and not dumb or desperate.

Instead of opening the coat up, Dean popped another one of the buttons. This time he slid it slowly free while watching her face. She smiled back and reached out to stroke over his chest.

Parting the coat with care, Dean exposed her stomach, thighs, and the little black panel concealing the spot between her thighs.

"Well, I knew it'd be black. But this doesn't tell me anything. It seems I'll just have to look closer."

Robin smirked - and when his fingers grazed her belly, she growled, "Oh if you tickle me, I will so bite your fingers."

He made a show of lifting his fingers up, while petting her stomach with his palm, smoothing down the fur to rub her thighs. There was no hiding her scent now, and pressing her thighs together told her she was damp.

Cradling her thighs, he slid his paws up under the coat and around back, cupping her butt. Tensing her cheeks under his touch, she couldn't help but squirm as he traced the thong strap that slipped down the middle of her rear.

A grin split Dean's face. "A very, very fine choice."

It had been simple for her - if women's fashion had taught Robin anything, it was that sexy clothes were uncomfortable, and thongs are quite uncomfortable so they must be sexy. She hadn't expected this to go so far that he'd actually see them, so she picked them to help her feel sexy.

Dean squeezed her butt again, making her squirm, and he leaned in to run his tongue across her throat.

Some small part of her picked up on his own excited musk, but it was too muted, and she became aware of a desire to smell him; it rushed up through her, and the brush of his bulge against her leg spurred Robin on reach down and open his pants. Dean froze, then pulled back with eyes wide behind his glasses to watch as she parted his khakis and reached inside. The smell came before she touched it, a thick and intoxicating scent that made her tail shiver and whiskers fan out.

The smell intensified as she gripped his hard-on and dragged it out of his pants. From her grip she knew it wasn't that big - not that she'd ever had experience with large ones to compare - but the sight of it made her flush as hot as the skin in her paw, and also feel dirty in a bad way.

Despite that bolt of shame, Robin opened her legs and pulled him closer by his erection. She wanted to feel him against her, wanted his arms around her. With one paw she squeezed him, and with the other she hugged his neck, pulling him in for another kiss.

Dean obliged her, working his muzzle into her own again, breath steaming across her cheek. She filled his mouth with her tongue and wrestled. As the kiss intensified, and with him pressing against her - pushing on her really - she leaned back on the desk. She ended up sitting on his paws. Once he tugged them free he clutched her outer thigh and braced the small of her back.

Robin's shoulders ended up against the wall. She let go of his hard-on and brought her paw down to brace on the tabletop. Dean leaned over her, their bodies crushed tight, and she could feel the heat and hardness of him grinding into her belly.

With a wet huff he pulled from the kiss, dropped his muzzle down and bit her shoulder through the coat. Robin hissed out a moan and dug her nails into his nape, pulling his mouth tight into her neck. When his teeth found her throat all she could do was gasp and grip his hips with her thighs.

Yes, she wanted him, she let him know in the way her back arched and she pushed against his erection, her stomach fluttering, in the way her teeth caught his ear and pulled on it before she groaned into it. In that moment Robin decided they were going to have sex at work, this was going to happen and regardless, she would try and really have fun.

That's also when Dean came on her stomach.

He jerked, his breath stuttering through his nose, and a warm wetness started to spread across her stomach. For a moment she wasn't sure what was happening, thought something was terribly wrong when his mouth broke its hold on her throat and he groaned.

Then she felt it, the throb of his erection, the way he rubbed himself against her, and knew what happened. Oh no.

Before he finished leaking, Dean pulled away, a few stray strings connecting them, and they could see the mess of his stuff staining her exposed stomach in a fat puddle. Some of it had definitely gotten onto the labcoat, and a few smears seeped into his shirt. The smell was so thick, and despite herself it turned her on so much.

He said nothing, just buried his face in his paws, and at first she thought he was hyperventilating, but it was just the quick breath from their making out.

She had to do something now, but she couldn't just say it was okay, her gut told her that wouldn't do it. She needed to distract him, maybe. Go outside the box.

Reaching out she caressed the back of one concealing paw. "Dean, Dean look at me."

He opened his paws just enough to peek out at her, like a little boy at his first scary movie, not wanting to see what came next.

Robin swirled a finger in the mess on her belly, brought it up to her lips and put it in her mouth. She smiled around it and made eye contact. "Mmm." It was an effort to keep her expression warm and sexy - she had only tasted a guy's stuff a few times, and the musky salt of it left her feeling a little unseemly.

All that tensed muscle seemed to melt, but he still looked away, his face low. "That uh, that hasn't happened before - I'm sorry, I-"

The brush of her fingers across his softening hard-on cut him off. "It's okay."

Dean's eyes flicked back to her, searching her face.

"We'll just have to be careful next time." Robin almost told him he should go down on her later, but saying that aloud felt even more extreme than she'd behaved tonight. "Just not tonight." Without being swept along in the moment she could think and now felt vulnerable here at the office, but she didn't want to go anywhere else either. Like a splash of cold water the little interruption had popped the tension in the room and Robin had lost her mood for sex. They had to do this right, like normal people with actual dating instead of her throwing her legs around him at the first opportunity.

Dean paused, his breath coming careful. "So that mean there'll... be a next time?"

Robin licked her lips. "Well I mean, that's if you want there to be." The confidence that had so easily filled her now drained through her feet.

Wrapping his arms around her and squeezing tight, Dean leaned in and nuzzled her maw, nibbling at the fur along her jaw. "I do," he whispered. "I hope you do too."

He really wanted to be with her, he liked her. This had been hot. Whatever happened, Robin allowed herself to believe this had been the right thing to do, and things were going to be okay.

"As long as I don't have to wear this stupid freaking costume again."

Dean laughed against her throat, and Robin joined him.