This one is for Carolinegirl919. Her birthday is today. A long time back we discussed a prompt. I wish I'd had a chance to spend a little bit more time on it, CG, but I hope you enjoy it anyway. It's not that smutty, but I hope you like the small little nuggets in there. :) #VirgoSeason #VirgoBabies.

This is an AU and it's a little ooc, which is what I get for writing it as late as I did. Blah.

The fic is named after the Janet Jackson song of the same name so go check it out after you read. Um, make sure you're grown when you do.

The prompt: Imagine your OTP are in a band and they're recording an album. One night, after everyone else has gone home, Person A persuades Person B to have a little naughty fun with them in one of the recording booths. Unfortunately, someone left the mic on, and when their bandmates come in the next morning, they find that everything's been recorded. Bonus points if one of the other band members wants to use it as a hidden track on the album.

Disclaimer: Not mine.

Joss Carter knows something has gone wrong the second she sees Sameen Shaw's face. She hasn't seen her band mate look so delightful since they stopped by an all you can eat steak buffet last year on tour.

"What?" Joss questions.

"You horn dog!" she snickers.

"What do you mean?" Carter tenses. Sameen is not one to make claims without proof. The woman doesn't operate that way. A tendril of fear snakes its way up Carter's legs and through her now rigid spine.

A flip of a button at the control booth and Carter hears it.

"John," Joss' voice called from the recording from last night. It almost doesn't sound like her, but the hitch, the tremble of her natural tone rings through the breathless utterance.

"Please, don't stop."

"Never," John joined in. His voice is a raspy growl that simmers under her cries.

"Shaw," Carter starts.

Sam shakes her head, but pauses the button. "Wait until the rest of the gang gets here."

"No!" Joss says. She doesn't want Finch, Fusco, Morgan or Groves to hear this. It had been a mistake. Well, not exactly a mistake. The tension between Joss and John had been heightening with every one of their waking moments together, but she knows that John must have forgotten to shut off the recording from their session last night.

She doesn't know where their relationship falls. John's not the type to one night stand it. She couldn't even claim his brief relationship with Zoe qualified since the two had remained friends and, until a month ago, casually had a fling.

Joss wasn't the one night stand kind of person either. Still, she doesn't know where they should go from here.

"You can't play that, Sam. It was an accident."

Sam smirks at her and walked from behind the controls. "Let's be clear, Carter; when I slept with Root that was an accident. You and John have been doing the tension tango for ages now. Only a matter of time. I'm just mad you didn't wait until the tour. Pretty sure I lost fifty to Fusco and Zoe."

"What?" Joss' forehead wrinkles in confusion.

Shaw rolls her eyes. "You two are the only ones oblivious to the inevitable."

Joss frowns. Were they really that obvious?

"Transparent as clear water, J." She waves a hand. "But back to the track. We need it. It would sound so good as the opening to Crystal Waters. It would lend it a Donna Summer, Janet Jackson-esque vibe."

"No," Joss repeats again. She folds her arms and her leather jacket pulls taut with the action.

The studio door behind them opens.

"No, what?"

Joss tries not to tense again. It becomes hard to do when John moves to stand close to her, his heat radiating against her back. His body drifts into her space, controls a piece of it even though she remains in charge.

Sam smiles her Grinch smile.

"You might be a great bassist, Reese, but you're a lousy technician. Should have shut down the equipment before seducing Carter.

John steps forward beside Joss and looks at her for confirmation.

She closes her eyes briefly, nods, and opens them.

Crimson red races up his ears and the apples of his cheeks. His hands clench involuntarily at the news.

Shaw presses the button.

Damn, the studio quality microphone. He can hear their slick flesh sliding together; can hear the small gasps of pleasure from Joss. He can hear himself beg her not to come just yet.

"Enough, Shaw." Reese's voice is surprisingly demanding.

She shrugs and shuts off the sound. She glances at her watch. "Gonna grab some coffee before everyone else arrives. I bet you two lovers have a lot to discuss before I introduce this as our new album opening."

She sidesteps the duo and is out the door before either can protest.

Reese runs a hand across his face. "I'm sorry, Joss." He grimaces as the recording plays in his head.

"I could have turned it off too." She doesn't want him to take all the blame. They're in this together.

"Well, I did seduce you," he teases.

She smiles, but they both know it's true. John has been on his own crusade to win her over since they met at The Precinct Lounge after he beat up some drunken punks down by the subway. It was long before they formed their band The Machine with the rest of the group. He'd pursued her since she broke up with Paul Carter, lead singer of the notorious Servicemen band.

It started with him showing up at her job, escalated to him getting his buddy, Finch, to offer her a position with The Machine after Nathan and Dillinger left.

It's also true about last night. Yes, the sexual tension encompassed a portion of their relationship, but without a nudge Joss would have kept them as strictly friends. It didn't take much though. He'd titled her chin up, looked her in the eyes and pressed a sweet kiss to her lips.

It wasn't a large leap to them stripping off their clothes, hands grasping zippers and limbs. He was hard before he saw her naked and, from the smooth entry he had, she was ready for him quickly too.

He knew if he lifts up his shirt he would reveal nail marks and a vivid bite mark perched on his shoulder where she'd come particularly hard.

He wonders how sore her scalp is from when he took from behind, his left hand clutching her hip, right hand buried deep into her thick tresses, yanking her head up and back as she bended over the oak stool in the booth.

"You did," she says. Her voice is pure silk and there's no surprise that he dreams about it when he hears her singing lead vocals. It's no surprise that her hoarse shouts last night heightened his enjoyment.

They stare at each other a few more moments before she speaks. "You know we can't let Shaw play that, right?"

"She won't. She's just trying to rile us up." He doesn't sound convincing at all.

Joss raises a brow. "It's Sam. We need to destroy that audio or we really will hear it as the opening to the album."

They walk to the panels and John leans down before he presses buttons to eliminate the audio. "Wouldn't have minded a copy," he murmurs.

"Who needs a copy when we can just recreate it?" Playfulness drenches her tone.

He looks at her sharply. He allows himself a quick intake of breath. He knew Joss was reluctant to start a relationship. She had been about self-healing after her last, tragic breakup. Sex wasn't the sole part of a relationship, and he hoped he wouldn't be stuck with just the memories of the great night they shared, but he would respect any boundaries she set. She already had his heart and she would be able to dictate what course they sailed on their unsteady waters.

"Might want you to feed me first, but there could be a repeat. Maybe somewhere private next time?"

He smirks, lifts a warm hand to her cheek, and nods. "Definitely, Joss." The move is tender despite the fact that he envisions just how tightly she gripped him when he came, how her sweaty brow rested against his cheek, how she flicked her tongue across his ear and set his body racing and hungry for more.

Her eyes narrow at the look in his. "Not here again," she whispers. She has her own thoughts and she feels the telltale signs of her own body responding to him. Flashes of his tongue swiping across her sensitive clit as she grasped his gray hair in a firm grip, the contrast of his mouth smooching lightly on hers despite the fact that he thrust deeply into her, her scalp tingling as he pulled and pushed his way into her third orgasm.

She captures his wrist, kisses his hand, and removes it.

"All done?" she asks as she steps away from him.

"All done," he confirms.

They smile at each other again.

Shaw saunters down the hall hiding a smirk behind a steaming cup of coffee. A tape recorder remains tucked into the back pocket of her jeans.