From: (Anonymous)
Summary: The team that plays together stays together, as far as Lincoln's concerned.
Spoilers: Up until and including "Entrada" in the 3rd season.

“Hey, boss-man,” Olivia said, leaning in the doorway to Broyles’ – now technically Lincoln’s – office.

It’d been a shitty day, with too much paperwork and worrying, but Lincoln could always find a smile for Olivia. He leaned back in his chair, stretching out his arms. “How can I help you, Agent Dunham?” he asked, mock-serious.

She sauntered in and parked herself on the top of his desk, staring down at him. “You busy tonight?”

“Maybe,” Lincoln said, instead of Even if I had plans, I’d cancel them for you.

“How about if we made it worth your while, huh?” Olivia said, leaning in a little closer.

“Who’s we? You and Charlie?”

“No, me and the Brooklyn Dodgers. Yeah, me and Charlie, at his place, tonight. Are you in?”

Lincoln tilted his head thoughtfully. “I don’t know, there’s some reading I’ve been meaning to catch up on, and I’m running out of clean socks, you know how it is.”

Olivia laughed, sliding off his desk and heading for the door. “Wash your socks tomorrow night,” she said. “Charlie’s place at eight, Lincoln.” She turned around before opening the glass door. “Oh, and bring your rope.”

“What? Wait, seriously?” Lincoln said, sitting up straight in his chair, trying to convince his dick that this was not the time and place to start perking up.

Olivia winked at him, then walked out the door. Lincoln sat very still, waiting for his flush to fade and his erection to wilt. This day had just gotten a hell of lot better.

><><><><><><><

Charlie’s place was nothing special, almost as small Lincoln’s shoebox sized one-bedroom, but his bed, on the other hand – Charlie’s bed was huge, had a mattress with just the right mix of firmness and softness, and a very useful wrought-iron headboard. Charlie’s ex had left it there when she took off for Seattle, and that’s how Lincoln knew she was nuts, because he would never have left that bed behind.

The bed was the main reason that when Lincoln, Charlie and Olivia decided to spend a night in, it was almost always at Charlie’s apartment. That, and Charlie usually had good food in his fridge, courtesy of a cousin who worked as a grocer out in Jersey, and Lincoln liked to mooch.

Right at the moment though, all of Lincoln’s appreciation was for the bed that he was stretched out across. Tied hand and foot, with plenty of room left for Charlie lying next to him similarly tied – oh yeah, Lincoln loved this bed.

Olivia was standing at the end of the bed, only mostly naked unlike the two of them, working at the knot on Lincoln’s right ankle; when she was done, she dragged the tip of one finger across the sole of Lincoln’s foot, making him jerk. “Hey!”

She grinned at him, pleased as a cat who’d gotten into the cream. “You two make such a pretty picture, I wish I had a camera,” she said, holding her hands up like a frame.

“Sure, that’s nice, now are you going to do something about it or just admire our chiseled physiques?” Charlie said, shifting so that his hip bumped against Lincoln, a warm spot against Lincoln’s bare skin.

Olivia raised an eyebrow, and then dropped her panties and crawled onto the bed. She clambered between them, her long hair draping down and brushing over Lincoln’s thighs and stomach. He sucked in a breath, his abs tightening, his hands clenching on the cool loops of the iron headboard.

Olivia hovered over them on her hands and knees for a moment before lowering herself down on top of them, spreading herself out like a starfish and letting out a contented little sigh. Lincoln gasped, couldn’t help it, feeling Olivia’s body pressed against his own, her leg slipping between his and the soft nub of her nipple touching his chest. Charlie made a strangled noise next to him.

“This is nice. Maybe I’ll just stay here for a while,” Olivia said, sounding as if she were seriously considering it.

“Liv,” Lincoln whined, and he was man enough to admit that it was definitely a whine, “come on.” He shimmied under her, pushing his thigh up to rub against her pussy. Olivia ground down against him with a happy humming noise but didn’t move. Lincoln closed his eyes and tried not to pant. He loved this part almost as much as the actual fucking: the anticipation of it, helpless to do anything but wait for Olivia to decide what to do. The few times that it had been Olivia tied up instead of him or Charlie, Lincoln had done his best to impart that feeling to Olivia, and if this was her way of seeking revenge, well, he wasn’t complaining over here.

All Olivia said was, “I’ve missed – uh, this.” She snuggled closer, and her hand curled around Lincoln’s shoulder. “We should do this more often.”

Between the time spent recovering from his burns and Olivia’s delicate mental state, it has been a while since they’ve spent time like this. Lincoln can’t agree fast enough, “Yeah, we should.” As because he can’t help himself sometimes, he added, “You know I have handcuffs too, right? And anklecuffs? The comfortable kind.”

Charlie said, “Oh, Jesus,” trying to sound long-suffering but only making it to intrigued.

Olivia started giggling quietly on top of them, which felt way better than it probably should have. Lincoln lifted his hips hopefully, and Olivia sat up. She stared down at them, naked and gorgeous and laughing, and Lincoln only groaned a little when she said, “This isn’t a good time for a ball and chain joke, is it?”

“What did I do to deserve you two?” Charlie asked, and Lincoln asked himself that every day. He figured it must have been something pretty damn amazing.
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