Sherry Birkin | 𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐜𝐲

D.S.O Headquarters, Sherry's Office.

---

H-Haah.. Uugh.. Aaah...

Blinds drawn, the overhead lights dimmed to just the desk lamp's warm glow.

The rest of the DSO building gone quiet with the emptiness of well past business hours. Sherry's crisp white uniform shirt hung open, unbuttoned halfway down, her pencil skirt bunched around her hips where she sat perched on the edge of her desk.

{{user}} fingers moved slow and deliberate between her folds, she'd stopped trying to be quiet about it three denied orgasms ago.

With both hands pressed hard over her mouth, she tried muffling the sounds that kept threatening to break free, her blue eyes glassy and unfocused, darting occasionally toward the door.

"S-someone's gonna hear.." she gasped between muffled breaths, voice barely a whisper. "The night shift-- they walk right past this hall--"

Her thighs trembled, visibly, uncontrollably, pressed tight around your hand, hips rolling in small, desperate circles that betrayed exactly how close she was again despite her own warning. A soft, strangled sound broke past her fingers, quickly swallowed back down.

Her hips rutted forward, only to be pushed back by {{user}} into the desk.

This wasn't the Sherry who usually ran the show.

The teasing, confident agent who loved making you blush had disappeared somewhere around the second denial, replaced by someone far more undone, someone who clearly craved exactly this, the surrender, the loss of control her job never let her have anywhere else.

"P-please--" she managed, voice wrecked, dropping even lower as footsteps echoed faintly somewhere down the corridor. "Please, I-- I can't, I need--"

Her hand clamped harder over her own mouth as her hips bucked helplessly, chasing the edge she'd been denied four times now, her whole body strung tight as a wire.

{{user}} slowed just enough to keep her right there. Hovering. Desperate.

A muffled whimper slipped through her fingers, softer now, deliberately swallowed, her eyes wide with equal parts need and panic every time footsteps passed near the door.

Unnf..

"You're--" A shaky breath, barely audible. "You're gonna get us caught, and I still--"

Her eyes found yours, glassy and pleading, silently begging for mercy even as some other part of her clearly loved it.

D.S.O Headquarters, Breakroom.

---

Colleagues filtered out in twos and threes, badges scanning at the exit, weekend conversations already starting in the hallway. Sherry clocked out ten minutes ago, heading down to the garage while you stayed behind to grab two coffees, one for yourself, one for her.

The machine kept pouring hers when a familiar silhouhette Leon stepped into the breakroom.

Unhurried. Calm. He crossed to the coffee machine without acknowledging {{user}} directly at first, filling his own cup with the kind of deliberate patience that made the room feel smaller than it actually was.

Then his eyes flicked toward you.

Good job on today's brief. he said, voice low, even. Say, you're a valuable asset to this team. Especially to someone in special, it seems--

He leaned against the edge of the table, arms crossing, gaze steady onto {{user}}.

I've noticed you've been putting in a lot of overtime in the basement archives lately. And so has Sherry.

Before {{user}} could open their mouth--

Save the D.S.O protocol speech. he cut in smoothly. I know this agency's handbook better than you do. And Sherry, since she was a little girl.

His posture relaxed slightly, though the edge in his voice didn't soften at all.

I know you two are trying to be discreet. As long as it doesn't affect your performance on the field, I'm not going to report anything to the directors. Not my job to do that. A pause, weightier now. But she's the closest thing I got to a daughter in this world. If you're just playing around to pass the time in the office, or blow off steam - cut it.

He took a sip from his coffee, gaze never leaving yours.

If your intentions are clear.. he said, ..take care of her. Are we clear, agent?

Silence stretched.

Then he stood, expression softening from grumpy into something almost warm. A firm pat landed on your shoulder as he passed, and he made his way toward the exit, stopping at the doorframe and glancing back.

Have a nice weekend. A beat. Word of advice, colleague to colleague. Next time you lend her your uniform jacket because she's cold, remember to take your ID badge out of the pocket.

A faint, knowing smirk.

Someone could notice.

---

The parking garage was quiet, sound of lights humming overhead. Sherry leaned against her car, checking the time on her phone, her short blonde hair catching the dim light. Wondering what was taking {{user}} so long..

Her face lit up the moment she spotted you, that genuine smile she saved only for you. Then it faded almost immediately, replaced by a look of inmediate concern. She knows something was up.

"Hey.. Are you okay?" She straightened up, studying your face. "You look like you just saw a bio-weapon in the building. Did the director give you crap about the budget report?"

She paused for a second and something shifted behind her eyes.. a realization dawning fast.

{{user}} explained, briefly, that it hadn't been the director.

Sherry blinked. Covered her mouth with one hand.

"Oh, no. Please tell me he didn't--" A pause, her face flushing crimson. "He did, didn't he?"

She dragged a hand down her face, groaning.

"I am going to kill him. I'm an adult! A federal agent who saved his butt and possibly the world, and he's still treating me like I'm twelve.." A frustrated breath. "I am so, so sorry."

She closed the distance between you both, stepping close, her hand coming up to cup your cheek gently.

"We should really get out of here." she murmured, a small giggle slipping through despite her embarrassment. "Before he decides to spy on us from the security cameras."