:: It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas :: Part Seven For auld lang syne, my dear, 31 December 2002 Nervously, she kept looking out the front window. She hugged her robe to her chest. Even though the living room was dark, she was still a little shocked with just how tight the skirt and red top were. She certainly didn’t want any passers by to catch sight of it. Music drifted out from the back of the house. She spotted the cab crawling through the new layer of snow. "Where the hell is the driver and limo now?" she demanded tartly of the night. As soon as it pulled up and stopped outside their door she started to ease around the tree and run back to the small entertainment room he had set up. The door of the cab slowly opened and he pulled himself out. The street light clearly showed how exhausted he was. <<<Oh well, not tonight.>>> Carefully she tied the robe around her. By the time he reached the top of the steps, she had the door open. Reaching out she took the suitcase from him and placed it behind her next to the door. He stood there for a moment just looking at her. "Hi." "Hi yourself," she whispered. He reached out for her and hungrily kissed her. After a moment he buried his head on her shoulder. "I knew there was a reason why I didn’t stay in London. Damn, you smell good." She held him tightly. "I’m glad you didn’t stay in London, too. You hungry?" "Nah. Just ready for a shower and bed. Okay?" "Very much okay. Come on. No, leave the suitcase. Come on, I’ll run the bath." "Bath? A real bath? I better not. I’ll probably fall asleep." "Come on," she whispered and started up the steps. "What’s that noise?" "Oh, don’t worry about it. I was listening to a CD." "Kate?" There was a dazed confusion in his voice. She turned to look back at him. She didn’t understand until she saw him staring at her nylon clad legs. He moved to stand on the step just below her. Reaching up, he tugged at the belt before she could stop him. "Oh wow," he breathed. She bent down and kissed him sweetly. "I thought I would surprise you. But from the way you look you would just fall asleep half way through my pick-up line." Slowly he moved next to her, then led her the rest of the way up to the landing. There he pulled the robe off and sighed, "Turn around." "Clay," she blushed. "Turn around," he insisted. "Incredible." He pulled her back against his chest. "You are incredible. Smart, tough and professional for all the world to see. But for me...this, madam," his hand caressed her over the red top and down her skirt, "you are never wearing out of the house." "Oh yeah?" She presented her lips to him and he bent and kissed her. He started to caress her breasts through the tight red spandex and groaned. "Jeeze. No bra," he whispered in her ear. She groaned but finally pulled away. "Come on, Mr. Webb. There’s a bath and bed with your name on it." He insisted that he didn’t dare sit down in the tub, so she ran the shower, letting the steam fill the room. Although exhausted, he managed to pull off his suit, which was every bit as wrinkled as his Navy uniform had been after they had trudged through the Hawaiian jungle. Kate took each article of clothing and folded it over her arm. "We’ll get these to the cleaners, tomorrow. Maybe they can salvage them." "They’ve saved worse." "Get into the shower, Clay." "Join me?" She blushed as memory and dream dueled -- god, how she missed him. "Okay." She started to pull off her clothes but his voice stopped her. "Strip for me, Kate." She blushed and shook her head. "Nuh-uh. Some other time when you can appreciate it. Get in. I’ll be right there." Gently, she soaped him. From head to feet she worked his tired muscles. Remembering how gentle he had been with her after her kidnapping, she didn’t try to arouse him. She had little doubt how he felt about her and she knew he had to be exhausted beyond measure if his cock didn’t even twitch as she cleaned it and his scrotum. She dried him off and led him to bed. "You want anything?" "Just you, Kate." Climbing in next to him, she started to snuggle into his side, but instead she laid her head on the pillow and tugged at him until he put his head on her chest. Gently running her fingers through his hair, she whispered, "Can you talk about any of it?" "Yeah, but later. Okay?" He lifted his head and kissed her gently. She opened her lips to his. Really, he had just meant it to be a goodnight kiss, but the feel of her warmth, the fresh smell of her after nearly a week of the stench of disaster and dying was almost overpowering. She gasped in surprise and he began to stroke softly across her body. "Clay?" "Ssssssssh. Let me love you," he whispered as his lips began to set her on fire. She had wanted him so badly these past five days that his caresses had her on the brink in no time. "Oooo, Clay. Now. I want you in me now." She licked his ear and nibbled on his chin. As he started to rise up to kneel between her legs though, she pushed him onto his back and straddled him before he could protest. "Let me do all the work, sweetheart." She lowered herself, surrounding him with her passion. As she rose and fell on him, he just watched her for a long time before he finally began to massage her breasts and tease her nipples. And when her inner walls contracted around him, he shuddered his own release. Taking a long, last look at her, he pulled her down to his chest. Reaching back she found the comforter. Still holding him tight within her, she covered them and lay her head on his shoulder. :: :: ::
31 December 2002 Harmon Rabb picked up his phone and pressed a series of numbers, then found himself rearranging papers on his desk as he waited for Meg to pick up. The dream had been nagging at him all morning. It was stupid, he knew. After all, the only thing that happened was that Meg and the twins smiled and waved goodbye to him, then jumped off a cliff. It was a dream -- a stupid, stupid dream. What was worse, though, was that he hadn’t called her during the day since he left California and wasn’t sure how she would react. "Powers." Her voice drew him out of his stupor. "Meg? It’s Harm." "Hey there!" She sounded happy enough to hear from him. "I’m just getting ready to take the kids down the block to the park." He could picture her in her kitchen, the sun streaming in the one window. She was probably wearing jeans, and a pink sweater. The noises in the background told him the twins were impatient. "Tell Andy to watch out for that slide." She laughed lightly. "I think he and that slide have come to an agreement. He sits and pushes off, and the slide won’t wobble and toss him again." "Good for him." He pictured her leaning against the wall -- God, he missed her. "Um, Meg, um, do you have a minute before you take off?" He heard Amelia’s voice in the background and then Meg muttered something to her before responding. "What’s up, Harm? Are you okay?" "Yeah, I’m fine. I, well, uh...." Why am I stammering? he wondered. "What are you doing the weekend of the eleventh?" "I don’t think I have any plans just yet. Did you have something in mind?" <<<Yeah, you.>>> "I was thinking about coming out to see my Mom, and while I’m out there I thought I’d take you and the twins out." "Andy! No candy. Grab an apple if you’re hungry." She returned her attention to him. "Yeah, sure Harm. That sounds great. But, are you sure you’re okay?" <<<I had a bad dream, and I know it’s dumb, but I want to know you’re all right.>>> "Fine. I just, I just want to see you again." Her voice softened. "Okay. Call me tonight?" "Yeah. Thanks, Meg. I’ll talk to you tonight. Have fun at the park." :: :: ::
31 December 2002 She had finished up the paperwork on the Darnell case, thrilled that she was out of it and Rabb had taken over the investigation with NCIS. Let him figure out what the hell to do with all the details that didn’t fit. The case that the admiral had given her and Turner to work on could easily wait until Thursday. Clay had still been asleep when she left for work. He hadn’t said anything about waking him up, and if it was really important, she figured the Director could reach him. Hanging her coat on the coat tree, she ran up the stairs to the bedroom. She wanted to take a long soak before getting ready for the party. Thankfully, they didn’t have to leave until 2000 hours. As she opened the door to the bedroom she could hear the shower. The bed was made. Clay had a hamper inside the closet where he threw his suits for the dry cleaners. One grey jacket arm hung over the side. He had been wearing a dark blue suit when he got home last night...this morning. He had obviously gone into work. Pushing open the door to the bathroom she couldn’t see much. Steam filled the room and clouded the clear glass shower doors. A silhouette, barely visible bent over and rubbed legs she wanted to caress. Quickly, she shed her clothes. As the shadow began to wash its chest she growled softly, "my job." The cold alerted him, but he didn’t turn around. "I certainly hope that’s you, Kate." "Interesting game idea," she whispered as she ran her hands along his back before hugging him. "But another time. You’ve been gone too long and I want you, Clayton Webb." She leaned forward and nipped his shoulder blade. He took her hands and moved them down to his already burgeoning erection. "I want you too, Kate," he groaned as she began to pump him. With the soap acting as a lubricant, she let her hand carelessly move up and down. "Won’t last long if you keep that up," he groaned "So?" She nudged him forward until the water cascaded down his body, rinsing the soap from everywhere but where her hand covered him. Soon her actions had him bracing himself against the wall. "Kate," he groaned. "Please." "Hush. I’m enjoying this." She kissed and bit his back and brought one hand around to trace the line of his crack. "Kate!" he growled a warning, but she ignored him. "You like this?" "No. I don’t...Jesus." He shuddered as she gently teased his anus. "Kate, honey, don...." His objections were overridden by his gasp as she squeezed harder and carefully pushed one soapy finger against the tight muscle. "Oh, god. Oh, Kate. Baby I’m not going..." As he threw his head back and cried out, "Kate!" she pushed in further and he thought he would never stop coming. She was so wet just from touching him that she thought she, too, would climax from the sight of him falling to his knees. His whole body was heaving from the tremors that still shook him. "Good?" she shyly asked. His laugh was shaky but he managed a weak smile. "Oh yeah." He sat back on his haunches and lifted his head to let the water rinse his face. Turning around to face her, he glared up at her. "Where did you learn that little trick, Commander Pike?" Instead of answering him, she pulled the hand held shower head off the wall and rinsed down the tiles. Gratefully, he sat back against the wall. "Kate?" He growled but she just knelt before him and captured his lips in hers. His groan echoed around the shower stall and he pulled her closer until the water hit just beyond them. It reminded him of the dream he had in his office before she was kidnapped. Pushing her back until he could gaze into her eyes, he demanded softly. "Tell me why you’re here with me, Kate." She returned his gaze and sighed. "Oh, Clay. Who has hurt you this badly?" She snuggled into his lap and laid her head on his shoulder. "Hurt me? I’ve never let anyone hurt me, Kate. I’ve never let anyone get close enough to hurt me. How the hell did you get past my defenses? And why did you want to?" She licked some water off his shoulder. "I’m a lawyer, Clay. I’m good at getting past defenses. Why do I want to? Why do I love you? That’s the age-old question. Why shouldn’t I love you?" He snorted and held up a finger. "Let’s see. I lied to you when we first met. Women don’t usually like that." "Clayton Webb, you were doing your job at the time, if I recall. Just don’t lie to me again, understood?" "Understood." He grinned but his face grew serious. "I don’t know if I could stand it if something bad happened to you because of our relationship, Kate." He held her tighter, almost hurting her in his sudden panic. She stretched back and considered him long and hard. "Too late for that now, Clay. You’ve got me. How do you think I would feel if something bad happened to you on one of your damn missions? Do you think you can send me away now and we’ll get past this and we’ll be protected from feeling again? Do you?" She waited for his answer and he just sighed and pulled her back to his shoulder. "I left you on Christmas Day and was gone for a whole week. I can’t promise you that I won’t do that again, Kate." "Well, there you’ve got me, Clay. I think you’ll have to make up for it by taking me shopping." "Oh yeah? Where? Neiman’s? Tiffany’s? Cartier?" he grinned. "Nah. The Pleasure Palace. If you insist upon leaving me for more than eight hours at a time, then I really will need something to keep me company." "What would you get?" his voice suddenly turned husky. She blushed. "I don’t know. I’ve never been to one of those places. Good girls don’t. As least that’s what momma said and, well, once I got into the Navy..." she stammered in her embarrassment and a rosy hue tinged her skin from her breasts to her hairline. "Never? You mean you’ve never had a vibrator?" She shook her head slightly. "So what did you do while I was away?" His face had taken on a hard intensity as he stared at her naked form. "Show me," he demanded. She was shocked and thrilled. Hesitantly, she stood and moved to lean against the glass wall. She started to close her eyes but his growl interrupted. "Look at me while you touch yourself, Kate." She began by reaching up and loosening her French braid. Running her fingers through her hair, she arched her back and stretched allowing the water to cool her fevered skin. She brought her hands down and ran them over her neck. As he watched, she ran her nails over her puckered nipples and a groan escaped her lips. "Oh Clay. I wanted you to do this." She rolled a nipple between her finger and thumb. Her other hand slowly trailed down her stomach tracing ever- widening circles until she parted her legs. As she began to circle her clit, her eyes began to flutter in pleasure but she managed to keep her eyes glued to his. Thrusting her hips forward, she offered him a full view of her glistening sex. No longer able to just sit and watch, Clay crawled forward. He kissed her belly, lapping the water off of her until he came to her breasts. Capturing one nipple between his teeth, he tugged on it until she whimpered. After a while he let his hand join hers. While she continued to caress her breast and her clit, he stroked her labia, parting it and finally plunged one long finger into her. "Yes," she breathed. She was panting now and Clay inserted another finger, caressing her. "Please, Clay," she whispered. He pulled her closer, arching her away from the wall. Burying his face between her legs, he lapped at the juices flowing from her. She was nearly incoherent now, bucking into his face, her finger still teasing her clit. She was forced to grab hold of his shoulder to steady herself. He looked up at her and she was so close. "You like that, Kate?" She couldn’t answer she was breathing so hard now. When he reached behind and just nudged her anus, she cried out and arched so far back that he was forced to keep her from falling backward. Lowering her to the floor of the shower, he put her legs over his shoulders and plunged deep within her. "Look at me, Kate," he demanded again as he slowly pulled out of her before plunging deep again. He tried to shield her face from the falling water, but it was so much like all his dreams of the jungle that he was soon out of control. Holding her hips he began pounding into her until he felt her walls clamp down on him, milking him, squeezing him to another shattering climax just as she cried out again. Collapsing to the floor beside her he let the shower rinse them both off. "Oh, baby. Kate? Honey? Are you okay?" She opened her eyes and turned her head to smile at him. "More than okay. Though this isn’t the most comfortable position we’ve been in," she laughed softly. "And I’m getting water logged here. "Come on." He pulled himself up and offered his hand to her. Turning off the shower he opened the door. "Honey?" "Yeah?" "Next time close the bathroom door." "Brrrr. Damn it’s cold. Give me a towel." He handed her a towel and laughed as she quickly closed the shower door again to dry off. "I see where true love ends." "Don’t like the cold," she pouted. Taking a deep breath he advised, "Well you moved to the wrong climate then, honey." She opened the shower door, still wet and dropped the towel. Taking him in her embrace, she kissed him long and hard. "I came to the perfect climate. You’re just going to have to make sure you keep me extra warm." Kneeling before her, he picked up the towel and began drying her. "Oh lord, we are never going to make it on time," she purred as he began to stroke the inside of her leg. "Sure we will," he grinned. He led her out to the bedroom and pulled down the comforter. "Sit down. I’ll get a towel for your hair. As she ran the towel through her tangles, she watched as he carefully dried every inch of his body. "You’re a very sensual man, Clayton Webb." "Me? Sensual?" he snorted in derision and then studied her for a moment, the towel hanging in midair, covering his cock. He smiled shyly. "No I’m not. Not really, except around you." She grinned evilly and pulled the towel away, pleased to see his cock was twitching toward her again. "Me either. I guess we bring out the sensuality in each other." "You either?" He growled as he remembered his earlier question. "Just where did you learn that little trick in the shower, Miss ‘I’ve never been to an adult toy store’?" He kept his tone light but she could hear he wouldn’t be put off this time. Her blush returned and she buried her face in her hands. "Kate? I didn’t hear you?" He sat on the bed, his hip almost touching hers. "Kate?" She raised her head, but wouldn’t look at him. "Oh, for God’s sake. You were gone and there was only so much work I could do! The Internet, okay. Some of those sex sites are free and they have these really farfetched stories...but some of them, well, I mean a lot of them suggest that men really like what I did." She finally met his eye. "Did you? Do you? Oh, God." She started to bury her head in her hands again but this time he stopped her and laid her on the bed. "It was the most intense orgasm I’ve ever had, and after the nearly non-stop sex we engaged in before Christmas, that’s saying a lot." He lay next to her body, resting most of his weight on one elbow and began to run his hand over her belly. "I’m touched that you trust me enough to want to experiment." "A little is okay, huh? I just don’t want you to get tired of me, Clay," she whispered just before pulling him down for a very sweet kiss. He deepened the kiss for just a moment then sat up. "Tired of you? Maybe flat out exhausted. But never will I get tired of you," he sighed. He looked over at the clock and then sighed again. "Come on, minx. Throw a robe on. I know how these things work. We better get something to eat. There will be hors d’oeuvres and drinks but nothing really substantial." He led her into the kitchen and she stopped short. "What’s all this?" she pointed to the grocery bags on the counter and the huge pot on the stove. "Oh, that’s for tomorrow. Can’t start the New Year without navy bean soup. You’ve got to soak the beans overnight, then cook them for hours." "How much navy bean soup? That pot looks like you could cook a turkey in it." "Well I do marinate turkey in it. But I make a lot of soup. I like bean soup. If you want, I usually invite people over for New Years Day, around three or four o’clock. We don’t have to if you don’t want to, though." He looked at her nervously. "You don’t have to do anything, Kate. I like to cook." "You like to cook?" "Yeah. It’s relaxing." "I hope you also like to clean up?" She said with mock severity as she went to the refrigerator to see what else he bought. "Well, not as much as the cooking, but I’ve been cleaning up after myself for a lot of years, Kate." "You mean that, don’t you?" she said seriously. She discovered two foil containers bearing the name of the restaurant down the street. "Yeah." "Want to get married?" she joked. As she moved to the oven she studied the re-heating instructions. She set the oven and turned to look at him. "Yes," he replied seriously. She was suddenly very glad she had left dinner on top of the range. "Clay?" She stared at him. He shrugged and turned away. "You asked me, I told you. I’m not pushing Kate. I’ve seen too many disasters where one person pushes the other. When you’re really ready, ask me again and I’ll get down on one knee in the middle of the Eclipse if you want. You said your mom and dad were both dead. Anyone else? Hell if you want, I’ll ask your CO for your hand." "Admiral Chegwidden," she replied dryly. She leaned against the stove and he just returned her steady appraisal. Her mouth was dry and her heart wouldn’t stop pounding in her chest. She was 37 years old and tried to remember the marriage proposals of her youth. She had always been career minded, figuring that when the right man came along, she would know. Well, she was pretty sure she knew. "I will definitely want to be there when you do." He walked up and stood within a foot of her. "When you’re very sure, Kate. Not before." She kissed him and let him embrace her tightly. Part of her, most of her, wanted nothing more than to tell him yes. But she knew it was too soon. They had known each other for less than a month. They needed to wait. They would find points of contention and she needed to know how they weathered the storms. Running her fingers through his hair she broke the kiss. "When I’m very sure, Clay." He hugged her once more, then sat at the table. "So? What do you think? You want to invite AJ and Ellen? Mother and Tim? Tomorrow, I mean." She laughed and sat. He obviously had this all planned out. She was used to just sitting in front of the television on New Years Day. Maybe this would be fun after all. She listened to his plans, made several suggestions and when the food was hot, insisted on getting up and putting the carry-out Italian on good plates. "Hey, this is the extent of my cooking. This and canned soup. Least I can do is serve it nicely." They ate in companionable silence for a while. Kate was carefully trying to eat without making a mess, so she never noticed that Clay never took his eyes off of her. The manicotti was hot and the cheese stretched all the way from fork to plate as they ate it. At one point, Kate pulled a little too forcefully and a sauce laden strand of cheese ended up down her chin and on her chest in the vee formed by the lapels of her robe. "Oh, for goodness sakes," she muttered as she reached for a napkin. "Don’t," his voice cracked like a whip. She looked up at him in shock. Standing up, he pulled her chair around and whispered. "Let me." He knelt before her. "Clay?" she groaned as he loosened her belt. "Clay, honey we’ll be late." "Don’t care." His hot breath against her chest had her legs parted making room for him. "Missed you so much in Russia. Wanted you so bad. Dreamed of you every time I closed my eyes." His kiss was hot and demanding. His hands cupped her breasts none too gently and she was thrilled by his obvious passion for her. "You touched yourself too, didn’t you Clay?" She groaned as his teeth scraped across her collarbone. "Oh Clay," she opened herself further, offering herself to him. Somehow he managed to pull off his robe and as he sat back on his heels, he pulled her down with him. Unerringly he positioned her over his cock, plunging into her in one long thrust. It was an unlikely position, but she planted her feet on either side of him and began to rise and fall on his shaft. She held onto his shoulders and looked into his passion filled eyes. "Answer me," she panted. "You touched yourself while you were gone." "No," he growled and pulled her closer until he could lap at her nipples. "Just wanted you. Wanted to wait for you. So hard for you, Kate." He suddenly stiffened and cried out. "Come now, Kate. Oh please, come with me now." As he arched up into her, he hit her g-spot just right and she gasped in surprise as wave after wave of pleasure washed over her. When his cock fell from her, she sat down hard on the floor. "Good thing you don’t have a live in maid, Clay," she laughed before leaning back against the table leg. "Damn. We’ve christened every room in the house now, except your office. I suppose that’s off limits." He managed a weak laugh. "Right now it is, but just because I can’t catch my breath. Why? You got a vision of me throwing you across my desk and taking you from behind?" "Oooooo. Sounds like you’ve been on some of those Internet sites," she breathed sexily. "Don’t need any Internet sites, Kate. I’ve got you," he whispered as he reached out and helped her stand up with him. "Come on. We’ll get these dishes rinsed and I guess we better go take another shower. You think I ought to consider getting a bigger water heater?" "I’m think that it would be an appropriate expenditure of cash, Mr. Webb." She hugged him and lifted her face for another long kiss. They washed the few dishes. Then he took her by the hand. "Come on, Molly Pitcher. Let’s go see how ridiculous I look in this get up." "Clay, it’s a Revolutionary War uniform. Fitting actually." "Kate, the man was twenty when he died. I’m forty two." "Oh, don’t whine. You’ll look wonderful. Better than the likes of little ole me." Webb smiled. "Oh I don’t know. I can actually see you manning a cannon, holding back the British, all the while passing out water to the troops. Washington commissioned her, you know. She was a sergeant." At her glare, he shrugged. "History minor at Harvard." "Yeah, you get the nice blue uniform. I get a hideous striped skirt, a white blouse and a leather vest. I look like a camp follower," she sniffed. "Hey. I got to see this." He exclaimed happily as he started to pull her up the stairs. She just shook her head and grabbed for the coat she had left on the coat rack. "Ha, I don’t think so, Mr. Webb." She purposely stalked to "her" room and closed the door in his face. "Go. Get dressed," she demanded as he knocked resolutely. She showered in the guest bedroom and took her time about it. As she donned each layer of the outfit she made strategic adjustments guaranteed to drive him wild and possibly force Chegwidden to put a letter of reprimand in her file. She fussed with her hair until it had a full disheveled "I’ve been toting water to the troops" look about it. Two minutes after 2000 hours, he bellowed from the foot of the stairs. "Kate. Mike’s here with the limousine. Come on, I promised we would pick up mother and Tim!" She carefully buttoned her wool coat covering every little indiscretion and opened the door. She ignored his scowl when he saw that he wasn’t going to get a preview of her costume. "Where’s the water pail?" he demanded crossly. "Pitcher, Mr. ‘History Minor from Harvard’. It’s a pitcher, hence the name, Molly Pitcher," she chided him gently. "The pitcher is where it will be nice and safe. If you think I’m lugging that thing for the next four hours you are sadly mistaken. The SecNav’s wife can ask and I’ll just tell her I forgot it. Got it?" she glared. "Yes, ma’am," he sighed as he put his tricorne hat on and led her down the stairs. :: :: ::
31 December 2002 For the first time in his life, AJ Chegwidden refused to get out of his car to go knock on the door of his date. His mother would smack him a good one if she were alive to hear of such heresy. However, Ellie hadn’t seemed to mind when he called and muttered, "I’ll wait in your driveway. You don’t need me getting in your way while you’re getting ready." At least he didn’t have to blow the horn like some dumb-ass teenager. He had called her from his cell phone. "I’m pulling into your driveway right now. Take your time, though." Ellie hung up the phone with a smile. While she would have loved to see him strolling up the sidewalk in leather pants and a flowing cape, she was just as glad he didn’t have to see her with her corseted waist and clingy white blouse. The cape was thankfully warm enough for December in DC and she pulled it around her and stepped into the night. She knew AJ was warring with himself whether or not to get out and open the door for her, but she waved him back in when gentleman AJ started to open his door to get out. "Oh, stay there. I’m a big girl." All the way downtown he kept glancing at her until she finally sighed, "What?" "I just never pictured you in red hair," he responded shyly. "Well gee, AJ, why would you? Momma and Daddy were both Swedish. Not too many redheaded Swedes around." "True." "You like your costume?" He snorted. "Well it beats the hell out of what the SecNav had described to me -- with relish, you understand Ellie. The man is fully expecting me to show up in doublet and hose. Something about it being bright red and gold." He shuddered and just glared at the carload of teenagers gawking at the bright scarf on his head. "Are you sure that Sir Francis Drake ever wore anything like this?" "Probably not," Ellie laughed, "but you will be the hit of the ball." "I hope not," he said, chagrined. Then, a little more brightly, "I’d rather hope a certain newly retired Gunnery Sergeant will claim the spotlight, and one very troubled Marine Colonel." Ellie’s eyes went wide at AJ’s utterance. "Why, AJ Chegwidden. You incurable romantic. You are determined to play matchmaker." He laughed. "Yeah, it sounds like it. Blame it on Harriet Sims." A surprising jab of jealously came out of nowhere; this was the second time he’d mentioned this woman. "And who is Harriet Sims?" she snapped before she could stop herself. Fortunately, he didn’t seem to hear anything amiss. "She’s my office manager. Great woman. Married to Lieutenant Commander Bud Roberts. They’ll be there tonight, ‘babysitting’ Mac." He blithely extolled the virtues of Harriet Sims. To the point that by the time he mentioned her morning briefings to the President and stopping by at night to darn his socks and press his towels, she knew he had heard her asperity. But he had her laughing so hard that neither of them had time to get too nervous when he pulled up in front of the first security checkpoint for the State Department. :: :: ::
31 December 2002 Victor stood outside the State Department Rotunda security checkpoint. He hoped the men at this thing were all straight. He’d been hit on three times by men since he left his rental out on Constitution Avenue. Of course, every woman he’d passed had given him appreciative looks, especially once he’d turned down Sixth Street. He was glad the mask he wore covered most of his cheeks. Unfortunately, the cape wasn’t very long, and his black leather pants just seemed to attract the eyes of women. <<<No wonder no guy wanted this costume. Is this how women feel when guys look at them?>>> The first of several security officials outside the door finally turned to him and asked for his invitation as well as his I.D. "Por supuesto. Un momento, por favor," [Of course. One moment, please,] he said as he dug through the small pouch that came with the costume. Thank god it came with a pouch; it certainly didn’t have any pockets. "Sir?" "Perdoneme. No tengo bolsillos. Aqui tiene." [So sorry. No pockets. Here you are.] The officer ran the invitation through the card reader and apparently was pleased with the results because he turned back to Victor with a friendly smile. "Here you are, Zorro. If you’ll please pass through the metal detector." Zorro smiled as he returned the invitation to his pouch. "Ciertamente." [Certainly.] He removed his pouch and handed it to the second official for inspection, then walked through the arch. "Wow," the third official said as he passed through without setting off one beep. "Finally, a costume without any metal." "Las cremalleras en mis pantalones y en mis botas son de metal," [The zippers on my pants and boots are metal,] Gunny told the young woman helpfully. She narrowed her eyes at him. "Are you flirting with me sir?" The second official handed Victor back his pouch. "He just said his pants and boots have metal zippers, Mickie." Gunny refastened the pouch to his hip. "Gracias." [Thank you.] The third official shook her head after Zorro walked into the party. "Too bad," she muttered. She’d really wanted to run her metal scanner over him. Victor glanced around and was amazed at the mass of color everywhere. He saw costumes from various periods of American history and a few others from other periods around the world. And the party had barely started. There were perhaps forty couples milling around. He was looking for Lancelot and Guinevere, though. He’d promised Harriet he’d check in with her as soon as he arrived and she’d assured him they would be on time. He spotted them near the refreshment table. The Lieutenant looked lovely in the flowing light blue satin gown and peaked hat. A definite fairy tale, he thought with a smile. They were talking to a dark-haired woman in a voluminous velvet gown with a thick-ruffled collar. Victor watched as the Lieutenant Commander bowed deeply to the woman before she laughingly walked toward another couple. Her laughter caused his step to falter. "Mac," he breathed. He quickly continued on to join Guinevere and Lancelot. "Debo decirle que esta muy linda esta noche," [I must say you look lovely tonight,] he told his former boss. Harriet spun to look at him and before she could attempt to hug him, he took her hand in his. "Es un placer conocer a alguien tan encantadora," [It is a pleasure to meet one so lovely,] he told her before kissing her hand graciously. Bud cleared his throat. "Excuse me, Gunny, but are you flirting with my wife?" he joked. "Jamas, senor. Ya he visto la belleza que deseo capturar. Su encantadora esposa es suya solamente." [Never, sir. I have already seen the beauty I wish to capture. Your lovely wife is your own.] Harriet giggled. "Wow, Victor. I don’t know what you just said, but it sounded great to me." He bowed low to her. "Es un placer." [My pleasure.] :: :: ::
Molly Pitcher angled her head toward Queen Isabella. "Check out Zorro," she whispered. Mac blushed. "I did," she whispered back. "And?" Kate prompted. Mac couldn’t look at the leather-clad masked man. "And I couldn’t get past the boots and leather pants. The only other thing I noticed about him was that he’s wearing a mask." Kate winked suggestively. "He fills out his shirt quite nicely." "Please tell me you’re whispering about me," Clay said, handing Kate a white wine and Mac a tonic with lime. Mac blushed and gulped the drink he gave her. Kate leaned into her date as he slipped his arm around her. "Zorro. He came in by himself." "Where?" "He’s over there. Talking to Bud and Harriet." Mac’s head swung around. "He is?" Clay raised his eyebrows. "Would you like an introduction, Mac?" he teased. She knocked back the last of her drink. "Uh, no." Kate nudged him with her hip. "Wait to see if his date is just late. She may be parking the car, you know." Clay looked from his flushed date to the blushing colonel, then scanned the room and noticed that almost every woman in attendance was glancing surreptitiously at the new arrival. "Okay, what’s this guy got that I don’t?" "Black leather pants," Mac sighed. "Oh, yeah," Kate agreed. Not one to miss an opportunity, Clay whispered into his lover’s ear, "Is this a request?" "Wanna go shopping tomorrow?" she whispered back. Mac decided to give Captain Hale and his lady some privacy. "Um. If you’ll excuse me. I’m going to go find the powder room." "Wait. I’ll go with you, Mac." Kate tried to follow, but he had her by the waist. She turned to see her lover pouting. "I’ll be back. You know how women never go to the bathroom alone." He wanted desperately to kiss her, but decorum wouldn’t permit him. "Promise you’ll be back?" "Of course. Why don’t you go find out who Zorro is and if he’s got a date on her way?" He let go of her. "I can do that." He gazed at her as her corseted figure swiftly caught up with Mac. Clay then glanced around the room to see where the Roberts’ and Zorro had gone. He didn’t have to search much. All he really needed to do was follow the eyes of the salivating women. Once he did, though, he couldn’t tell who the women were salivating over. The three had apparently joined two characters straight out of the "Pirates of Penzance." The woman was bad enough -- her bust looked ready to pop out of her corset. But the man. Well, flamboyant wasn’t going to cover it. He wore a colorful scarf on his head, a bright orange shirt, a dark green sash, and dark brown leather pants that looked like they’d been painted on. Those were tucked into thigh-high black leather boots. As he approached them, the female pirate appeared to be laughing at something Zorro said. "Commander Roberts, Lieutenant Sims," he greeted Lancelot and Guinevere. He turned to the female pirate to introduce himself and his jaw dropped. Ellie once again dissolved into laughter. "Omigod, you mean Kate didn’t tell you?" Clay found himself stammering. "I...um...I...uh...Hello, Ellie," he finally got out. He looked over at AJ and shook his head. "I thought I heard you two were coming as Sir Francis Drake and Grace O’Malley?" AJ’s smile was good-natured. "Costume mix-up. Imagine my surprise when I got home from the office today to find this outfit in my closet!" He’s in a good mood, Clay thought. "No, AJ. That’s hardly the outfit of a ‘dandy’." Clay took a sip of his wine and was about to comment further when Ellie interrupted. "Oh, I don’t know. I think he looks quite ‘dandy’ to me," and again dissolved into laughter. AJ’s reply contained controlled irritation. "That’s quite enough, Ellie Mae." "Oh, come on, Jethro." She nudged his thigh with hers. "You have to see the humor of the situation. Hell, the only competition you have in the leer department from all the women at this shindig is Zorro here." Zorro’s voice contained similar irritation, but his reply was far more polite. "Podria hacer sin los fulgores, gracias mucho." [I could do without the leers, thank you very much.] Having been raised in Texas, as well as having spent time in Spain, Ellie understood him. "Oh, come on. It will give you a better perspective on how the other half lives. Both of you." He raised his glass to the pirate queen in salute. "Trato a todas las mujeres con el respecto extremo, senora." [I treat all women with the utmost respect, madam.] AJ’s Spanish was rusty, but he understood enough of Gunny’s statement. "As do I," AJ huffed. "I’m sorry, Zorro," Ellie contritely told the polite masked man. "I don’t know you and should not pass judgment." Victor couldn’t stay angry with the lovely redheaded friend of the admiral’s. "Gracias, mi reina del pirata." [Thank you, my pirate queen.] "But as for you, AJ." She motioned for him to bend down so she could whisper in his ear. "Don’t even try to tell me you haven’t checked out this outrageous cleavage, several times." AJ blushed and looked over at Webb, only to see his smirk. "Was there something you wanted, Mr. Webb?" he asked in his best "pissed-off-admiral" voice. <<<Do I see sparks finally flying between these two?>>> "Actually, there is. I’ve been sent for an introduction to this gentleman here." He turned to Zorro and, extending his hand, he said, "Captain Nathan Hale." Gunny shook it and said, "Zorro, en su servicio." [Zorro, at your service.] Clay had already gotten over his surprise at Zorro’s identity. "I take it the Spanish is part of the costume?" "Si. ?Es eso un problema?" [Yes. Is that a problem?] Victor hoped not. He hadn’t realized until after he’d gotten here just how nervous he was, and he was very grateful to Harriet for her suggestion that he speak Spanish all night. Clay smiled warmly. "None whatsoever, sir. My Spanish is a bit rusty, but I’m sure if my translation skills are inadequate you’ll be sure to tell me." <<<Oh shit. What if he figures out who I am?>>> "Ciertamente, si usted desea." [Certainly, if you wish.] Under normal circumstances, Clay would have enjoyed taking advantage of the former Gunnery Sergeant’s panic, but tonight Clay was on a mission. "I have two friends who would very much like to meet you." <<<Oh God. Please get me through this.>>> Zorro kept his tone polite, if not somewhat formal. "Realmente. ?Y donde son sus amigos?" [Really. And where are your friends?] "The ladies stepped out for a few moments. I expect them to return soon, though. Would you mind if I introduced you to them?" Victor smiled and bowed formally. "Seria mi placer." [It would be my pleasure.] Mission accomplished, Clay again turned to the pirate queen. "Ellie, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you quite so fetching. Red hair becomes you." "You think so? I just might think about trying out this color." She heard AJ make a choking noise. "What? You don’t like this color?" AJ cleared his throat dramatically. "I would never presume to tell a woman what to do with her hair." "Good answer." She glanced around and noted that the ballroom was beginning to fill. She also saw Mac and Kate from across the room. "Oh Clay," she began mischievously -- Ellie was just having far too much fun tonight. "I do believe I see your friends have returned." Clay looked where she indicated, immediately noticing Kate in that incredible leather corseted vest. The only thing that kept him from rushing to her was his manners. "Ah, if you will excuse me. Um...us...that is, if Senor Zorro would care to accompany me?" What’s up with him? Victor wondered. Suddenly he realized that one of the women was Mac. <<<Oh, God in Heaven -- please don’t let Mac be his date tonight!>>> "Ciertamente." [Certainly.] As the two men left, the Roberts excused themselves to find a table while they still could. "Do you think he knows?" Ellie asked AJ. "Who? That Gunny knows Webb knows, or that Webb knows who Gunny is?" "Grace O’Malley’s" eyes widened. "Clay knows about Gunny?" "Mac told me Friday morning that he guessed weeks ago." She bumped AJ with her hip this time. "You didn’t mention that yesterday." He smiled at her, remembering what Mac had said that morning. "Didn’t think it was important." "Do you think he recognized him?" "Yeah." He glanced after their retreating backs. He hadn’t been able to get in touch with Webb, which had worried him. However, Webb’s reaction to Gunny seemed to indicate he was alright with the guy. "I think he’s okay with him." Out of the corner of his eye he noticed the SecNav and his wife heading in their direction and he turned back to Ellie. "Napoleon and Josephine, five o’clock and headed this way. Care to dance?" She grinned up at him. "I take it you don’t want to discuss the costumes with the SecNav?" His voice held only a tinge of panic. "Not a chance." "Okay, my pirate king. Let’s go get lost among the" -- she scanned the dance floor quickly -- "five couples out on the floor." As he led her out on the floor she tugged his arm to get his head down to her level. "Besides, it will be easier to keep an eye on Mac." AJ took her loosely in his arms as he began to dance her among the couples. "Madam, are you suggesting we spy on one of my subordinates?" "Would you rather I go back to telling you about every woman who checks out your butt?" He jerked her to him playfully. "Do that and I’ll start telling you about every man who checks out your cleavage." :: :: ::
31 December 2002 Molly Pitcher leaned into Captain Nathan Hale as he handed her another glass of white wine. "They haven’t stopped dancing." Clay glanced in the direction Kate indicated. "I’d say they’ve been talking more than dancing." "What do you think is going to happen?" At his sharp look, she said, "I like, Mac. I don’t want to see her hurt." He bent his head to her ear suggestively. "Considering he looks at her a lot like I look at you, I’d say he’s smitten." He pulled back when he sensed a shiver going through her. "The question is, how does she feel about him?" Kate felt flushed and knew her heart rate had increased. She desperately wished they were alone, if only for a little while. "You think he’s smitten, Clay?" She leaned into him flirtatiously, giving him a glimpse of the cleavage her corseted vest created. "Are you smitten?" "Totally. Utterly. And if we weren’t in the middle of this party, I’d show you just how smitten I am." "Good. Then ask me to dance, Captain." As they glanced around for a table for them to set their drinks on, Kate felt a hand lightly touch her arm. "Mac! Finished dancing already?" Mac seemed a bit flushed; Zorro stood slightly behind her. "I, uh, am a bit tired," she stammered. "And Zorro has agreed to drive me home." Although Clay had told Kate who the masked man was, and it was quite obvious Mac had figured it out as well, no one had called him anything but Zorro. Kate was about to comment that it was a shame they had to leave when Clay interjected, "Oh, before you go, Zorro, I meant to ask you how the job hunt is going." Victor’s eyes narrowed suspiciously, but he kept his tone polite. "Tengo perspectivas." [I have prospects.] Even though Mac said she trusted him implicitly, old habits die hard when it came to this spy. Clay smiled warmly at him. "I simply meant that I have friends and could probably help you. I’d be happy to check around the Agency and see what’s available." "Gracias, pero el almirante me ha introducido a un caballero que ya me ha ofrecido un trabajo. Senor Timothy Fawkes." [Thank you, but the admiral has introduced me to a gentleman who has already offered me a job. Mr. Timothy Fawkes.] Mac had a slight look of panic as she asked Clay, "What’s this about Tim Fawkes?" Victor placed a comforting hand on her back. "?Usted conoce a Senor Fawkes?" [Do you know Mr. Fawkes?] "He’s a good man," she replied, figuring out his question without Clay’s help. Victor lightly rubbed her back. "Creo le, pero me decline su oferta," [I believe you, but I turned him down,] he reassured her. "Tim offered him a job, but he declined," Clay told her, then turned back to Zorro. "You know, he’s a good man -- you’d do well working for him." "Un hombre fino, Capitan. En hecho tambien le me estan ayudando. El arreglo una entrevista en el Departmento del Tresoro." [A fine man, Captain. In fact, he’s also been helping me. He arranged an interview at the Treasury Department.] "Secret Service, or ATF?" Mac kept quiet this time. She reached behind her and moved Victor so that he was standing next to her. She and Victor had been dealing with the language barrier throughout the entire time they were dancing. She knew Zorro was flirting with her, but he also refused to speak English. And even though she was pretty sure he answered all her questions honestly, he did so in Spanish. It was alternately frustrating and flattering, which left her wanting to rail at him but also drag him into some dark corner. In the end, she decided to go home, where hopefully she’d be able to do both. <<<God, how can I be so brazen? Harm and I have been separated for less than a month!>>> She found herself leaning into Victor as his arm moved around her. Victor glanced down at Mac and suddenly realized his hand was resting on her waist. He couldn’t remember how it got there, but it felt nice. He turned back to Webb. "Ambros, sino yo no nos vemos como funcionario. Controle tan hoy en conseguir la licencia de un investigador privado." [Both, but I don’t see myself as a civil servant. So today I checked into getting a private investigator’s license.] <<<Chasing after errant husbands? Not the father of my goddaughter!>>> "Don’t discount the government so fast," he told him, trying to be persuasive. And they have excellent pension plans and you have a daughter now, Clay wanted to yell at him. "Have you thought about the Defense Investigative Service? I have several friends there, and they’re shorthanded more often than not. They’re always looking for talented investigators." Zorro appeared to think for a moment before speaking. "Gracias, senor. Puerde ser que considere eso." [Thank you, sir. I might consider that.] "Mac has my number. Call me and I’ll try to get an appointment arranged by Friday." "Una vez mas gracias. Ahora, si usted nos excusa, la senora es cansada y desea recoger a nuestra hija." [Again, thank you. Now, if you will excuse us, the lady is tired and wishes to collect our daughter.] <<<Nuestra hija>>> Mac had figured out that one while they were dancing -- our daughter. She liked the sound of that. Queen Isabella smiled up at Zorro before turning back to give both Kate and Clay quick hugs. "Have you seen Harriet and Bud? We need to say our goodbyes." "They’re out on the dance floor." Kate pointed to Lancelot and Guinevere in the midst of several couples. "We’ll let them know Queen Isabella was tired, and that she left with a trustworthy individual," Clay assured her. "You are trustworthy, are you not, Zorro?" he asked the masked man with a wink. Zorro extended himself to his full height and said haughtily. "Protegeria a me reina con mi vida." [I would protect my queen with my life.] :: :: ::
31 December 2002 AJ Chegwidden didn’t know what was wrong with him. He’d known Ellen almost his whole life. Well, except for about twenty years or so. Okay, almost thirty years. But what the hell was going on with him? Webb had been trying to push the two of them together for a year and a half, but they had more sense than that. They were friends. Right? He kept one eye on the drinks he was carrying and the other on the crowd as he tried to push himself through to get to Ellie and the Roberts. The band was coming back from its break and the crowd was thinning out on the dance floor in preparation for the next set. He had just about broken through the masses surrounding the dance area when he felt a hand on his arm. "AJ! That most certainly doesn’t look like the costume I was told you’d be wearing." "Ah, Mr. Secretary. Mrs. Nelson. Ahem. May I say your costumes do look quite nice on you." AJ wondered how much Josephine had drunk so far this evening. Her eyes looked like she wanted to sink her teeth somewhere on his body. Once again, AJ wished that cape had been more lightweight so that he’d have something to shield himself with. "What happened to your costume, AJ?" the SecNav demanded. Napoleon suits him, and his temperament, AJ thought as he scanned the room for any distraction. "Sorry, sir, there...." Suddenly his eyes rested on Ellie, who once again had her head thrown back in laughter. She was standing with the Roberts, but they had been joined by Commander Turner and Congresswoman Latham. Finally, she turned to him and their eyes met. She smiled. A nice smile. No, THAT was a sexy smile. Hell, it almost looked like a come-hither smile. He heard Napoleon mutter something and AJ just stopped caring what that idiot thought of his costume. "Excuse me," he said distractedly as he thrust the two drinks he was carrying into Nelson’s chest. The SecNav barely got his hands on them before Chegwidden took off. "What the hell?" he said as he turned to follow him. A soft hand on his shoulder stopped him. "Never mind, dear," his wife told him. She took red wine from him and held it out in toast. He looked down at the scotch he was left holding in confusion, but held it out. She clinked her glass with his. "Happy New Year." AJ Chegwidden had one thing on his mind as he crossed the dance floor. Actually, he had nothing on his mind. At least nothing he could pin any thoughts on. He was just looking at her. And she still had that smile on her face. And then she was walking toward him. Ellen Fredricks didn’t know what to think. She’d been laughing at something Bobbi had told her about her encounter with Zorro outside the building, and the next thing she knew AJ was heading toward her with one heck of a hungry look on his face. Oh yeah, she remembered smiling at how uncomfortable he looked standing there next to the SecNav. But he did look so nice in those leather pants. And the boots came up well over his knees and just seemed to flatter his thighs. And suddenly those thighs were heading her way. She didn’t remember if she excused herself from the group -- she was just on her way to meet those nice thighs...uh, him. When they finally met she surprised herself by speaking first. "Do we know what we’re doing?" The band struck up its first cords of the set. "I guess we’re about to dance." She held up her arms to him and he pulled her into his. They would have started dancing, had they not burst into laughter. "Oh god, ‘Some Enchanted Evening’?" she managed to choke out when her laughter died down. "Hell, Ellie. We’re out here, we might as well dance." AJ began to lead them around the dance floor. She knew her face was flushed, and she knew it wasn’t from the dancing. AJ had given into whatever insane feelings they’d been having all evening. Why? They’d never acted like this before. What was so different tonight? She decided to repeat her earlier question to his chest. "Do we know what we’re doing?" she asked softly. AJ leaned down to whisper in her ear. "I think we’re dancing. Don’t you want to....?" Ellie couldn’t believe she just kissed him. That she was still kissing him. It was as though that thirteen-year-old just reared back and threw her raging hormones right at AJ’s mouth. The strangest part was that he was kissing her back. And they were still dancing. It was nice. Okay, more than nice. Hell, it felt better than half of the sex she’d had lately. And they hadn’t even opened their mouths yet. As if on cue, both their mouths opened slightly, and the next thing she knew her tongue was dueling with his. When they finally came up for air she leaned her head on his chest. "Yeah. I like dancing." She looked up at him. "Do you like to dance?" "Um-hmm. I take it you want to keep dancing?" "Uh-huh." Her smile said "kiss me again," so he did. :: :: ::
1 January 2003 Satchel Paige gazed down at Josephine Baker as they moved around the dance floor. Although the congresswoman’s costume seemed somewhat masculine -- top hat and three-piece suit -- she looked so incredibly sexy in it. He still couldn’t believe how "fashionably late" they’d been. Sturgis Turner had shown up at her place in plenty of time for them to get here, but she’d surprised him by showing up at the door in a bathrobe and a smile, with a glass of champagne in her hand for him. Thank goodness that wasn’t the first time she’d done that; the first time he’d almost come in his pants, and he could hardly afford to soil the uniform of the famous ball player. Bobbi Latham pressed herself against her date one more time as they danced. Poor Sturgis was beginning to sport another hard-on, and she took great pleasure in reminding the Navy Commander where it came from. His first one he’d gotten after they’d arrived had flagged when they ran into the SecNav and his wife. She’d been slightly disappointed, but understood considering what she’d done to him before she’d even gotten dressed for the evening. The man was always so eager to please. He’d knocked back the champagne she’d given him almost before she’d closed the door. She took the glass from him and set it on a nearby table and his hands had gone to work on the belt of her robe immediately. Before she knew what was happening, he’d bent her over the sofa and his cock was nudging at her opening. "Say please," he’d whispered in her ear, and she was quickly begging for him to fill her. He’d gotten to know her quite well in the past year; he knew that when she indicated she "wanted it now" that’s exactly what she meant, and her climaxes were always fast and intense. Their celebration tonight was two-fold. Bobbi had found out a week ago that his name was going before the promotion board next week; she’d been afraid to say anything for fear he’d think she was asking if he wanted her to intervene. Finally, this evening shortly after they’d arrived he’d told her about the board. She’d just kissed his cheek, then asked him to let her know if he got it. She had to be so careful with Sturgis; the man had one hell of an ego, but it was also incredibly fragile. It was so hard for him to date her, and she had to be very careful of his feelings. Only once had she ruffled his feathers, and she’d worried for a week that he wouldn’t come back. If he got this promotion, he’d be a shoe-in for admiral in four years; after that, she’d stop worrying about his ego. At that level, he could hardly feel inadequate to her status in congress. "How much longer do you want to stay?" Sturgis asked, pulling her closer to him. He knew what her answer would be; he also hoped like hell that she wouldn’t try to pull him into a dark corner in the garage. He’d do it, though. Congresswoman Bobbi Latham wasn’t a woman to be denied. He also loved the fact that he could have her screaming in no time flat. Her tone was throaty. "We’ll need to say goodnight to the Secretaries and their wives." He leaned down to nuzzle her ear. "I saw George and Martha Washington by the punch table a few minutes ago. Shall we start with them?" "Okay," she breathed. "Lead the way." Clayton Webb barely noticed the Commander and Congresswoman breeze past him. He was far too busy staring into the eyes of Katherine Pike. He leaned down to kiss her again and wondered once again how long after midnight he could get away with this breach of decorum. Kate didn’t allow him to deepen the kiss this time. "Maybe you should call Mike," she suggested when she pulled away. "You’re right," he sighed. "Shall we go check with Mother and Tim to find out if they’re ready?" "Uh, Clay, they left at 2330 hours, remember?" He vaguely remembered calling Mike earlier, then wishing those two a good evening. "Hmm. Guess you’re right." He pulled her closer so that her cheek was next to his. "Shall we find a quiet corner so I can make a call?" "Is that all you want to do in a quiet corner?" Kate teased. He pulled her even closer and whispered, "You telling me you can’t wait until we get to the limo?" She knew she’d probably had too much to drink, but the opportunity was too good to resist. "What if I can’t?" and she nibbled on his neck just below his ear. Her gesture went straight to his cock and his head fell to her shoulder. "Do you realize how tight these pants are?" he moaned. "Want some advice?" she teased. "Look everyone in the eye." "You are rotten, woman," he said into her neck. "You do know, of course, that paybacks are hell." She patted his back comfortingly. "Promises, promises. Come on. Let’s go find some place for you to make a phone call." He tried to stay behind her as she led them from the dance floor. Unfortunately, he wasn’t watching where he was going and stepped right into another couple dancing. He looked up and realized it was AJ dancing with Ellie. Flustered that AJ might noticed something amiss -- mainly the hard-on he was sporting -- he said the first thing that came to mind. "Get a room you two," and he hurried after Kate. AJ’s jaw dropped as his eyes followed Webb. He turned back to Ellie and shook his head. "What was that?" "Sounded like a good idea to me." She put her hands on his chest and grinned up at him. "Unfortunately, I bet every room in every decent hotel in this city is booked." He couldn’t help smiling down at her. "And a few that aren’t so decent." "Ah, so no chance of finding one with a mirrored ceiling?" she joked. AJ leaned down to speak into her ear. "You want a room? I’ve got a room in McLean. No mirrored ceiling, though." "Will we get room service?" "No, but if you ask nicely, I might make a pot of coffee in the morning." "Doesn’t sound like a good hotel to me." "The rates are reasonable, and the sheets are clean." "Clean sheets, huh? Well, that sounds okay then." :: :: ::
01 January 2003 Sarah MacKenzie-Rabb gazed down at Victor Galindez and wondered if she was going to end up pregnant again. Sex just didn’t get any finer, and tonight was like a repeat of that night, only better. Victor had refused to speak anything but Spanish until he got out of his costume, something that she would have accomplished immediately had she not needed to feed her daughter. Their daughter. She gave herself a mental shake -- the last thing she needed was to get all romantic and sappy over Victor. They knew each other very little on a personal level, and she had no clue whether they’d be able to make a go of it. For that matter, she had no clue whether or not he even wanted to try. Yes, he’d spent most of the evening flirting with her. But that’s what any guy would do if he wanted to get a woman into bed, not that she didn’t want the same thing. But mutual attraction didn’t guarantee anything, and the hotter the fire, the quicker it could burn out. Boy, did it burn tonight. But Haley Marie began fussing the moment they walked into the door. Mac had left her with Victor so that she could run to her bedroom to get out of the gown. By the time she’d donned her robe and returned, Victor had Haley Marie out of her carrier; he was sitting in the rocker and was telling her a story of Zorro, in Spanish of course. She seemed so captivated that Mac almost didn’t want to disturb them. However, Haley Marie had other plans and began fussing again as soon as she saw her mother. "You can finish your story later," she told the masked man as she lifted the infant from his arms. That was when she noticed his gloves on the small table next to him and his cape draped carelessly on the couch -- she couldn’t resist. "I thought you were going to start speaking English when you took off your costume?" He got up from the rocker, telling her...something in Spanish...then pointed to his mask. She waited until she was situated in the rocker and Haley Marie had firmly latched onto her right breast before answering. "Oh, so I take that to mean that you’re not ‘out of costume’ until the mask comes off?’ "Madre dulce del dios," [Sweet mother of god,] he murmured. She followed his eyes and realized that he was staring at their daughter happily sucking away on her mother’s breast. "Tan hermoso," [So beautiful,] he sighed. He slowly went to one knee next to her and Mac’s hand reached out to touch the side of his face. Shining eyes turned toward her. "Deseo ser una parte de su vida, asi como la vida de nuestra hija." [I want to be a part of your life, as well as our daughter’s life.] Mac blushed at the intensity of his gaze. "I haven’t a clue what you just said." He gently took her outstretched hand in his and kissed her fingers. "However, I have a favor to ask." "Por supuesto. Seria mi placer." [Of course. It would be my pleasure.] "Can you turn on the radio? She loves listening to music while we do this." "?Donde esta?" [Where is it?] She pointed to a cabinet along the wall. "Top shelf, far right button." As he turned to walk away she kicked herself mentally. She felt like a pervert with her eyes glued to his leather-clad butt. And when he’d pointed to his mask, she berated herself All she wanted to do was make sure that was the last thing he removed tonight. In fact, if it wasn’t for the simple fact that Haley Marie needed her right now, she’d have Victor stretched out on the floor...or up against the wall...or on the couch. Haley Marie distracted Mac by batting her breast when Faith Hill began crooning "Breathe" so that she didn’t see Victor’s sharp look at her. <<<When did Mac start listening to Country music?>>> But when he saw her expression he was in utter awe. <<<How can she look even more beautiful?>>> "?Puedo hacer cualquier cosa para usted?" [Can I do anything else for you?] Again, she wasn’t sure what he was asking but replied, "Just take a seat, Victor. We’ll be a while," she smiled at him. He shook his head. "No," [No,] and he moved behind the rocker. "Pienso que tomare su pelo abajo para usted." [I think I’ll take your hair down for you.] The act was so intimate that Mac felt her face blush. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a man touching her hair like this. She couldn’t even remember if Harm had; but then again, she only started growing it out after she got pregnant and this was really the first time she’d worn it up. Victor was carefully placing each pin and clip on the table as he removed it; when he was done he began to smooth her hair out and massage her scalp. She had just closed her eyes and surrendered to the sensations when Haley Marie began fussing again. "?Esta ella bien?" [Is she okay?] Mac cleared her throat. "Um. She’s fine. She just wants to switch sides." She felt her face turn scarlet. She quickly focused one-hundred percent of her attention on her daughter. "Sorry, sweetie," mother told daughter as she picked her up and lay her on her other side. Victor watched in fascination as the little girl quickly latched onto her mother’s nipple. He reached down and, using one finger, caressed Haley Marie’s cheek. His voice was soft as he spoke to her. "Muchacha apesadumbrada, pequena. Era egoista distraer a su madre." [So sorry, little one. I selfishly distracted your mother.] He felt like a first-class jerk as he moved around the rocker toward the couch. From now on he’d keep a respectable distance from Mac while Haley Marie was in the room. Mac watched as Victor went to the couch and picked up his cape. Oh god -- he can’t go, she thought in panic. That wasn’t his fault! "Uh, Victor?" He turned to her and casually folded the cloth over his arm. "Um. Would you make me a cup of tea? Please?" His smile told her he’d had no intention of leaving and she breathed a sigh of relief. "The kettle’s on the stove, and the tea is in the cupboard to the right of the stove; the honey’s on the same shelf with the tea." "Ciertamente," [Certainly,] he said, laying the cape more neatly on the back of the couch. As he walked past her to the kitchen, she put her hand on his arm. "The strawberry?" At his questioning look, she said, "The strawberry tea." He took her hand, then bent low to kiss her knuckles. "Seria mi placer." [It would be my pleasure.] "Is that where you get all your charm, sweetie?" she asked her daughter after Victor left. Haley Marie sighed contentedly and closed her eyes. "Oh, no you don’t," Mac told her, jostling her slightly to keep her awake and feeding. "You’ve been so good the last few nights. You know the rules -- no falling asleep mid-meal," she admonished. She lightly jostled Haley Marie some more until she again began suckling. Mac tickled her cheek until she looked up. "So, sweetie, what do you think of your daddy?" Her daughter just blinked at her mother. "Ah. Too much to ask. That’s right anyway. You shouldn’t talk while you’re eating." Mac leaned back and listened to Garth Brooks singing about the "Honky-Tonk Bar Association" as Haley Marie contentedly batted at her breast. The scent of strawberry alerted her to his presence. Her eyes flew open and she realized that both she and Haley Marie had dozed off. "Oh dear," she told the infant, "I hope you were finished because I don’t think I’m going to get you to eat any more at this point." Mac picked up the sleeping child and covered herself before turning to Victor. At least they hadn’t slept for long. "How would you like to make yourself useful while I drink that tea?" At his amused smile, she said, "You were telling Haley Marie a story earlier -- want to finish it now?" "Ciertamente." [Certainly.] He set the tea on the table next to her and reached for the child. "Pero ella esta dormida," [But she’s asleep,] he said as he hefted her into his arms. Mac smiled as she rose from the rocker. "I’m going to assume you don’t know my procedures. At night, she stays awake until she’s ready to be changed, then she can go to bed, and hopefully sleep most of the night." She picked up her tea and motioned for Victor to sit. "Your mission, Senor Zorro, is to wake her and keep her awake until she loads up her diaper," Mac chuckled as she moved to the couch. An easy enough job, Victor thought as he checked out the little girl sleeping contentedly on his shoulder. The hard part was not scaring her when she woke up. "Haley," he began softly. "Haley Marie." He gently moved her from his shoulder to cradle her in his arms. "Despierte a pequena muchacha. Su papa desea hablar con usted." [Wake up sweetie. Your daddy wants to talk to you.] Mac set her mug on the coffee table and pulled a scrunchie out of the drawer of the end table. She listened to Victor as he began to tell their daughter a story. After running her fingers through her hair a few times, Mac secured it behind her head with the elastic. The next thing she knew Victor was waking her up to take her to her daughter’s room to kiss her little girl goodnight. He assured her that Haley Marie had been changed and that, perhaps Mac needed to get to bed. At least, that’s what she thought he was trying to tell her. After Mac apologized for falling asleep on him she thought everything was fine, until he started heading back to the living room. She moved in front of him to stop him before he got too far from her bedroom door. "We need to talk." When he opened his mouth to speak, she covered it with her fingers. "I don’t think tonight is a good time." Then she removed her fingers and replaced them with her mouth. He’s certainly good at figuring out a situation and taking advantage of it, she remembered as she smiled down on his still sleeping form. The masked man had picked her up and carried her straight to her bedroom, depositing her in front of her bed. He was about just about to remove his mask when she stopped him. "Uh-uh." She then proceeded to strip him. First she removed the shirt, unbuttoning the front, then the cuffs, then running her hands up his chest and across his shoulders before letting it fall to the floor. Then she knelt on the floor in front of him, lowering the zippers on his boots before removing each as well as his socks. Once they were out of the way, she held her arms up to him and let him help her to her feet. She went to work on first the belt, then the button of his leather pants. That job completed, she raised her face to his for him to kiss, which he did to her delight. His hands lightly held her shoulders the entire time, but his grip became tighter when her left hand ran down his length before she used both hands to lower the zipper. He moaned into her mouth as she let the pants fall and then slid her hands under the waistband of his underwear to massage first his buttocks, then to move one hand around front to fondle his balls before running her hand up his length. She didn’t remove his underwear, though. Instead, she broke the kiss and turned away to go rummage through her bedside table’s drawer. She pulled out a box of condoms, extracting three and tossing two on the stand. When she turned back to him, he had stepped out of his pants and removed his underwear. "I like a man who takes initiative," she smiled and knelt before him again. If he said anything, it was swallowed by his moans. Before she even ripped open the foil, she took him in her mouth. When he was sufficiently hard, she opened the package and placed the condom over his length. She again held up her arms for him to help her up. But rather than allowing her to put her arms around him, Victor undid her robe and slid it off her shoulders, kissing some exposed flesh along the way. Her body was on fire. But before she let herself get carried away, there was something she wanted. "Please, Victor." Her words finally got him to pause and look at her. She put her hands behind his head and her fingers made quick work of the knot in his mask. His hands encircled her waist and pulled her closer. "Happy now?" he asked as she removed the mask from his head. She dropped the silk fabric behind him. "Very," she smiled. "Please kiss me, n...." Mac ran a fingertip along the sleeping man’s arm. Oh yes, he had kissed her. And kissed her. And somehow they got into bed, and at her urging he plunged into her more than ready sex. As he moved in her he kissed her neck and shoulder. She buried her face into his neck to help muffle her whimpers and cries as she quickly approached her climax. Her legs were wrapped around his waist, but that wasn’t enough; she pulled her knees up higher and urged him to move higher as well. Suddenly her world became black and white as she reached her peak and her inarticulate mewlings spurred him to his own, his groans mingling with hers as he found his own release. Mac’s fingertip found Victor’s hip and she began drawing lazy lines as she remembered the intensity of that first orgasm and she felt her own arousal begin to grow while she relived the memory. He was sleeping so peacefully now. Mac debated curling up next to him and joining him in slumber versus finding out if she could interest him again. He seemed so tired after that first time, but he had recovered quickly enough then. Once he’d removed the condom and returned to bed he seemed like he wanted to sleep, so she rested her head on his chest and stretched out along his length. One of her hands found his and she sighed contentedly as he intertwined his fingers with hers. His mistake was when he asked her what she wanted to do. Mac knew what he was asking, but that wasn’t the question she wanted to answer. Instead, she lifted her head and tongued the nipple her cheek had been resting on. She heard his hiss and looked up at him mischievously. With her eyes locked with his, she moved to his other nipple and ran her tongue around that one as well. His groan was guttural as he pulled her up to join his mouth with hers. She moved over him to straddle his hips and his mouth opened to welcome her tongue to play with his. His chuckled deeply when her wetness pressed against his stiffening shaft. "So, that’s what you want to do?" he breathed when she finally released his mouth. She rubbed her sex along his hardness in answer and found her eyes fluttering in pleasure as that movement stimulated her swollen clitoris. He pulled her head back down to his and demanded another kiss, arching his hips into hers to increase the pressure. She shuddered against him, too aroused to do anything but respond as he teased her. "Want to do the honors?" he asked when he let her go. She’d barely understood what he was asking as she got up and reached over to the bedside table for a condom. When she turned back to him, he had his cock in his hand and was slowly fisting it. It was as though he was teasing her once again, and her eyes were slits as she was mesmerized by his movements. She remembered licking his lips and hearing him chuckle; she couldn’t even articulate a response -- just follow his movements with her eyes. She finally forced her eyes to move up his body to his face. Victor’s voice melted her insides. "Come here." When he reached for her she finally found the ability to move. She wanted to fall into his arms, but knew that in her current state she could lose whatever grip on her sanity she had left. Instead, she took the hand he offered her and placed it on her knee as she straddled his thighs. Then she placed the unopened foil on his stomach and both of her hands around the fist he had on his cock to guide his movements. She watched as the head disappeared among their hands on the upstroke and reappeared on the down stroke. When Victor grabbed her wrist in warning, she let up the pressure and he removed his hands to let her rip open the foil and place the condom over him. "Come here," he repeated when she’d finished smoothing it down his length. Mac leaned down to kiss him and Victor opened his mouth in welcome. He placed his hands on her waist, then gently ran his hands up her ribs before cupping her breasts. She rose up and he watched as she positioned herself over his cock; she was so hot and wet that the head slid in easily. He moaned deeply and closed his eyes as she slowly lowered herself over him until she settled on his hips. She placed her hands over his on her breasts and watched his face as she flexed her inner muscles around him. "Victor," she breathed. When he opened his eyes to look at her, she said, "Come here." He sat up and embraced her; she arched her hips to change the angle of penetration and both cried out as she began to move over him. In her position, her breasts were in front of his face and his tongue reached out to lathe a nipple; at the contact she knew she’d lost it as she gripped his shoulders and sped up her movements. He alternated attention to each nipple as her hips jerked over him more frantically and her moans filled the room. He must have realized she was having trouble reaching her peak because he asked her what she needed. Somehow she got out that she needed him hard and fast; the next thing she knew she was on her back and he was bending her knees up before he began to pound into her. She remembered gripping him tightly as she cried out at the sensations pulsing within her. Victor followed shortly thereafter, moaning his release into her neck. The two were drenched in sweat as they lay panting afterward. "Shower?" He nodded gratefully. "Scrub my back?" she smiled, extending her hand to him. She had practically fallen asleep in the shower. The feel of Victor’s hands massaging her was incredibly relaxing. They’d kissed and fondled one another as they lathered each other’s bodies. She’d explored his body in ways she hadn’t been able to that first time, and Victor’s "explorations" left her week in the knees. Okay, so she’d had an orgasm; maybe two, or even three -- the man definitely had a talented tongue. And afterward, he’d dried her off and wrapped her in her bathrobe before carrying her to bed. Victor had spooned himself behind her and fallen asleep right away. She had thought she would do so as well. That is, until she became aware of the smell of him. A very fresh, very nice, very clean-smelling Victor scent. Which is how she got into her current predicament. She found herself wide awake and maneuvered herself out of his embrace. She’d just wanted to look at him. And then she began remembering the events of the evening and she wanted to touch him. She squirmed out of her bathrobe and tossed it toward a nearby chair. After all, he was naked -- there was no reason for her to be wearing anything. Then she once again maneuvered herself into his embrace. It didn’t take long for Victor to react. He began by nuzzling her hair and sleepily pulling her closer to him. Mac wasn’t sure when her naked body finally registered on his sleep-filled brain, but his stiffening cock made itself known against her buttocks fairly quickly. His grunts were downright delicious as his mouth began to nibble her neck and shoulder. "You asleep?" she asked tentatively. "Not anymore," he hummed. "I thought you were asleep." She turned in his arms. "Not anymore." He pulled her closer to him for a kiss. "What happened to your bathrobe?" he asked when they came up for air. "Want me to go get it?" "Uh-uh. Not unless you have a condom in the pocket. That is why you woke me up, isn’t it?" She ran her hand along his length and scraped her teeth on his chin. "How very perceptive of you," she smiled as her mouth found his. "You’re insatiable, Mac." She gave him a little squeeze. "I think you’re up for the task." He grabbed her hips and pulled her to him, pinning her hand between them and grinding himself into it. "Are you going to ask for a repeat of that night?" He grew harder in her hand and she felt herself get wet in response. "Uh-uh." She playfully grabbed at his lower lip with her teeth, then ran her tongue over it when she let go. "I kinda doubt we’ll run out of condoms this time." He found himself laughing as he flipped her on her back and began nuzzling her neck. "Oh yeah?" "Oh yeah," she sighed as his tongue traced a line to her collarbone. He moaned as she ground her wetness into him, then lifted his mouth to hers for a searing kiss. When he let up, he rolled off of her with a groan. "Guess I better go get one, huh." She grunted an affirmative, then turned on her side so that one of her hands could trace a line down his hip and along his thigh. "So, what makes you think we won’t run out?" he asked as he unrolled the latex over his erection. She didn’t answer right away, but continued to fondle his thigh as she watched his movements. "Mac?" The look she gave him made him forget his question and he quickly returned to her side, then positioned himself between her legs. She kissed his mouth, then his neck, before whispering in his ear, "There’s another box in the drawer." Her words gave him pause as he placed his cock just outside her entrance. Wanna bet? he thought before sliding home into her warmth. His mouth once again sought hers as he began to move steadily in her. Her legs moved to surround him and he moaned as her tongue danced with his. Her body was so yielding, she molded herself to him, and he wanted to lose himself in her heat. Her hips arched into his and so he changed his angle of entry. She was getting close again and he sped up his movements just a little as she wrenched her mouth from his to bury her face in his neck. Her whimpers spurred him on, his body responding as though it knew her needs intimately, and he felt like he was simply along for the ride. He felt his balls tighten and he again changed his angle; her entire body tensed as he felt her muscles clamp down. Within moments, his cries followed hers. Afterward, he pulled her close and found his fingers running through her long hair. "I’m not used to this." "Neither am I," she said into his chest. "I’ve had it short for a lot of years." "That’s not what I’m talking about, Mac." She looked up at him questioningly and he repeated his earlier plea. "Deseo ser una parte de su vida, asi como la vida de nuestra hija." She propped herself up using an arm on his chest. "You’re not wearing your mask, Zorro," she said softly. Victor took one of her hands in his and intertwined their fingers. "I want to be a part of your life and our daughter’s life as well." He brought her hand to his mouth and he kissed her fingertips, keeping her eyes locked with his. "I want to stay. I’ll always be here for Haley Marie, but I want to be here for you, too. What do you want?" She didn’t want to talk about this now; she wanted to wait for the light of day, for sanity to reign. But his eyes were so dark they burned into her. She was lost in them, and she knew she was lost in him as well. "I want you here for Haley Marie -- I’ll always want that," she finally managed to say. "And right now, Victor, I want you here for me." She leaned up to kiss him. "Please stay," she muttered before her lips met his. Home :: JAG Index :: e-mail Paula :: e-mail TheLadyT |