printprint this story!

Disclaimer: Primeval and all related elements, characters and indicia © Impossible Pictures. All Rights Reserved. All characters and situations—save those created by the authors for use solely on this website—are copyright Impossible Pictures.

Please do not archive or distribute without author's permission.

Author's Note: For ruby-caspar's prompt "Becker had never considered himself a 'legs man'... until he met Jess."

Shoe Fetish
by LJC

It was the shoes that did him in, Becker decided as he tried to catch his breath. Definitely the shoes.

The day had started like any other—arriving at the ARC, drilling his men, and overseeing training until the anomaly alert had blared through the ARC, lights flashing red. He hadn't seen Jess at the ADD until they'd come back to give her their black boxes containing all the data on the anomaly to the Palaeocene that had opened in Penge East.

Normally, Becker didn't bat an eye at whatever brightly-coloured costume their field co-ordinator was sporting. From mini-skirts to leopard print, pink barrettes in her hair to a red sweater dress he swore his mum had worn back in the 1980s, her unique sense of style was just a part of what made Jess, well... Jess.

But when she'd go up from her plush red swivel chair, he'd finally noticed what she was wearing.

From the white schoolgirl blouse with its short puffed sleeves to the black mini-kilt (complete with silver kilt-pin), it was practically fetish gear as far as Becker was concerned. But it was the black patent leather heels with their round toes, silly wide straps across her foot with the white stockings that suddenly made him forget his own name. The heels weren't even stilettos—they were thick and chunky, practically sensible, as far as Jess' normal choice of footwear went.

The thing was, they were bright fire-engine red. Only the heels. It was the only splash of colour in her outfit, and Becker simply couldn't look away.

It wasn't that he hadn't noticed her legs before. From the first day they'd met (lime green cardigan, reptile print skirt, purple wedges) he'd been almost obscenely aware of her bare legs beneath those short skirts. Her calves were like a dancer's—slightly square at the top, but not in a bad way. And her thighs were softly rounded, with firm muscle beneath. He'd discovered that on his own when he'd carried her through the ARC while she was delirious from the systemic reaction from the future beetles which had been a hundred times worse than any bee sting or insect bite she'd ever had in the past.

Ever since that day, he'd found his hands twitching to touch her—to run his hands up one muscular calf to the tender skin of her inner thigh. He'd managed to get it mostly under control at work thanks to a combination of cold showers, excusing himself at inopportune times to take care of things in the loo, and once by conjuring the mental image of his nan in her yellow chenille dressing gown with curlers in her hair.

But the combination of schoolgirl sweet with just that touch of naughty was his undoing. Her hair was pulled back in a simple ponytail—she hadn't even adorned it with a ribbon or one of her usual headbands. Her fringe was pinned out of her eyes with a single plain black hairclip like you'd find at any chemist's shop. No jewels or bows—just plain black enamel. She wasn't even wearing lipstick—just something shiny that made him want to taste it and see if it would taste like strawberries or watermelon.

"Damn," she muttered as she bent down to fiddle with one of the straps, and Becker found himself at her side in an instant.

"Everything okay?"

"The stitching's been going on my shoe all day—I thought it would hold out until I got home..." she said, extending her foot so he could see the strap barely holding on by two threads on the instep of her left shoe.

As she angled her foot, he could see the delicate bones of her ankle shift beneath the white stockings, and his mouth went dry.

"I might have something in the armoury we could use to patch it up, until shift change?" he said, trying to sound casual. "Like an epoxy, or maybe some thread or something."

"That would be brilliant!" She gave him a bright sunny smile, and tapped a few commands into an open chat window. "Okay—Shelby's on her way to cover the ADD. Becker, you're a lifesaver."

"It's just a shoe."

"It's my favourite shoes. I've practically worn them out, and I was sort of dreading trying to find another pair on ebay or something, cos you never know who else has worn them, you know?" She wrinkled her nose a the thought.

"You buy shoes online?"

"I buy everything online. I haven't really had much time to shop, what with being on-call all the time. I guess I've just got used to it."

The armoury was deserted, and Becker led Jess to the bench in the back corner while he puttered around, looking for something he could use to mend the strap.

"I think this might work," he said as he found a small tube of epoxy that was normally used to refinish firearms.

"I trust you," she said innocently, extending her foot. As he knelt at her feet, her skirt slipped just that extra inch on her thigh and for the first time he realised the thick white stockings were held up with garters. She followed his gaze, her cheeks turning pink as she tried to tug the short skirt down.

"Garters?" Becker asked before he could stop himself, and the flush in her cheeks bloomed into a full blush.

"Don't laugh, but I actually got them for a costume party ages back. You know—Brittany Spears, naughty schoolgirl, all that. It was nippy out this morning, and I thought I'd get cold in the Hub."

Becker realised he'd been holding her heel, fingers tracing the back of her foot absently as she talked, and he cleared his throat, shifting the way he was sitting to try and hide the rising bulge beneath his loose black tactical trousers.

"Jess Parker, there are sides to you I clearly never imagined." He took off the shoe, leaving her stocking-clad foot resting on his thigh as he worked the torn strap free of the loose stitching, and tucked it more firmly inside the fold of leather so he could secure it with the glue.

Pinching the shoe closed again so the glue could set, he risked looking up into her face again and saw she was tracing her full bottom lip with the tip of her tongue as she watched him work.

"You don't think I could be naughty?" she asked, still blushing, and her toes flexed on his thigh.

Becker froze. Absolutely stock still, like a deer in headlights as Jess slowly and deliberately ran her foot up the top of his thigh until she reached his belt. She stared at him, bold as brass, watching him like a cat watching a mouse as she drew her foot back down to his knee, and started the slow path up the inside of his thigh.

Becker's hand shot out just before she could brush his erection with the ball of her foot, and he gripped her ankle. His gaze still locked with hers, he ran his hand up the underside of her calf, fingers kneading the muscles lightly, until he reached her knee. She made an almost choked sound of disappointment as his hand stayed there, his thumb sweeping over her kneecap and back again.

Then he leaned forward, stopping just short of her mouth, but close enough that he could feel her breath warm on his cheek.

"How naughty?" he asked, his voice pitched low, barely above a whisper.

"Very, very naughty," she breathed just before she closed the gap and licked his bottom lip before reaching up to slide one hand around the back of his neck, her fingers sliding through the short hair at the base of his skull to pull him closer.

Ah. Cherry lippy. He filed that away in the back of his brain as yet one more reason he wasn't going to be able to keep his hands off Jess Parker for another second.

At the first touch of her tongue against his, Becker let his hand continue its journey until his fingers reached the soft, warm, naked skin of her upper thigh. All it took was stretching his thumb just another inch to feel the stiff lace of her knickers beneath the ball of his thumb, and she moaned into his open mouth as he pressed down lightly. She was already damp, and he stoked her though her knickers, enjoying the soft sound she made against his mouth at the friction.

The next thing Becker knew, he'd wrapped both arms around her waist, and they were up against the concrete wall of the armoury, hidden by the racks of equipment as Jess hooked her stocking-clad leg up around his waist. He reached down and lifted her other leg, pushing the remaining shoe off to land on the polished floor with a muffled thump as he ground himself against her.

He couldn't stop stroking her thigh, hitching her leg up high on his hip, and was rewarded by her tightening around him and mewling cries of pleasure as he dragged himself against her slowly through the thin fabric of her panties. Reaching down, she tugged at his shirt, trying to get at bare skin, and he unclasped the tac belt and unzipped while she ran her hands over his back beneath his shirt. She dropped one leg, trying to get purchase on the floor, but he grasped her behind the knee and kept her pressed up against the wall.

He didn't even try and get her knickers down—he was enjoying the feel of her legs wrapped around him too much, and the slip-slide of the silky stockings against his skin of his hips as he pulled his trousers down just far enough. Tugging her panties aside, he tested her by running two fingers through her wet curls and was rewarded by a low, guttural moan, her thighs rippling around him before he lined himself up and bent his knees.

Jess tore her mouth away from his and arched her back as he pushed up into her, her breath coming in strangled gasps. "Oh God, Jess, you feel so amazing," he whispered into her curve of her jaw.

"Less talking," she said between kisses, and rolled her hips against his. Becker laughed softly and then ran his tongue over the curve of her jaw before pulling partway out and surging back up into her.

He reached up to cradle the back of her head to keep it from hitting the wall as he set up a rocking rhythm of his hips against hers. Without it being said, they both tried to keep as quiet as they could—Becker hadn't thought to lock the door behind them on the way in, and though the armoury was considered very much "his" domain, that didn't mean others didn't come in from time to time to return weapons and equipment throughout the day.

As if summoned by his thoughts, Becker froze as he heard booted feet outside. Jess' hands tightened on his shoulders, and he covered her mouth with one hand while he pressed them further into the shadows.

"—and then I swear, the whole thing just vanished," came a woman's voice—Simmons, if he guessed correctly.

"Don't you mean the anomaly closed?" came a male voice, and Becker could hear the sounds of EMDs being placed back in their cases at the front of the armoury near the racks of power packs. It sounded like Hill—or possibly Green.

"I don't think it even was an anomaly," Simmons continued, and Becker could hear them powering down the weapons before removing the power packs, just as they'd been instructed.

Never before in his life had Becker wished his team would bloody cut corners. But the longer they were there, the more danger he and Jess were in of being noticed. Particularly as Jess' black and red pumps were still lying at the foot of the bench for all the world to see.

Becker put a finger to his lips, and Jess' eyes widened above his hand. Then she actually tightened her thighs around him, rocking slightly in a way that made his knees almost buckle. He grit his jaw, and pinched her nipple through the stiff white cotton blouse by way of punishment. Her blue eyes above his fingers were dancing, but he refused to move until the two members of the security team had finished stowing their weapons, their voices fading off down the hallway.

"You are evil," he hissed in her ear, and her response was to lick the palm of his hand before clenching around him again. He took his hand away, and sealed his mouth over hers, swallowing her panting giggles.

Becker slammed his hips into hers, increasing the pace until Jess pulled back and sank her teeth into his clavicle, arms wrapped tightly around him as she came. He continued thrusting up into her, riding it out, trying to make it last until he couldn't hold back any longer. His hips stuttered against hers, and he buried his face in her neck as a shudder ran through him and he pulled out to come against her thigh, just above the lace-trimmed top of her white stocking.

"You are developing a shoe fetish," she said against his ear with a breathy laugh.

Jess lowered her legs slowly, and Becker's hands came down to grab her arse, eliciting a half-hearted squeal of protest that was quickly swallowed up by his lips against hers.

Without her heels, the top of her head barely came to his collarbone.

"I was never a leg man before you, you know," he pointed out as he tucked himself back into his trousers, feeling not even the slightest bit guilty.

"I can't believe you got me to wear this outfit to work," she said as she smoothed the kilt's pleats down with nervous fingers.

"Did you really think you could tell me you had a naughty schoolgirl outfit and get away with not wearing it for me at least once?" Becker asked, raising an eyebrow as he bent down to pick up her mended shoe. "I think this will hold for now."

"Good," she said, one hand on his shoulder as she stepped into the shoe, and looked around for its mate. Becker scooped it up and ran his hand down her thigh, lifting behind the knee so he could slip her foot into the shoe with a twinkle in his hazel eyes.

"There you are, Cinderella."

Jess smacked his arm. "Just for that, you and I are going shoe shopping at the week-end." She turned to go back to the Hub, blowing him a kiss over her shoulder. "Your treat."

"They have changing rooms in those shops, right?" Becker called after her, and was rewarded by the sound of her laughter echoing down the hall.


you like? you hate? feedback...

ljc's fan fiction