Slow like honey
'Why don't you want to be my boyfriend?'
Alex takes off her makeup while she waits for an answer. It's not forthcoming. Leaning against the bathroom sink, she repeats the question a little louder. There's still no response. After some consideration, she fiddles with the faucets.
'What are you doing?' Owen yells from behind the suddenly wildly rippling shower curtain. Grinning wickedly, she turns the hot water off again.
'Well?' she prods.
'Huh? Oh, it's just not believable.'
The hell?
The mirror registers Alex's confusion.
'I'm coming out,' Owen warns. Alex vaguely murmurs 'yeah, yeah' and leaves the room, closing the door behind her. She sits down on the edge of the bed, next to Owen's carefully laid out clothes. When Owen enters the bedroom, he's securing the towel around his waist. He pauses to pointedly glare at her, but Alex simply ignores the attitude.
'Nah, I don't buy that. It would have been as good a cover story as you being my bodyguard, but you nixed it and I wanna know why,' she decides.
'It doesn't make sense,' Owen states. Narrowing her eyes, Alex gets up from the bed and takes a moment to straighten her dress. His eyes stay on her throughout, which she doesn't fail to notice.
'Why?' she inquires.
'Because I'm Sam. An Army vet and drug smuggler who killed his fellow soldiers for trying to cut him out of a deal.'
Am I crazy or did that sound rehearsed?
Alex raises an eyebrow. It definitely sounded annoyed. It might also have sounded rehearsed. With each new explanation, Owen's reluctance was growing more puzzling instead of less.
'No one would know that,' she points out.
'I'd know.'
He takes an angry breath while she watches him closely. When she walks up to him, he backs away.
'You're acting really weird, Owen. Which is another thing. You're Owen. Not Sam. We've been over this.'
He sighs, defeated.
'Okay, I'm Owen. I assassinated people's loved ones. How's that better?' he demands. Alex mulls that over for a little while. They frown at each other. He looks hard. His every muscle is tense.
He's so angsty. It's adorable.
'I know all the stuff you did,' she quietly says. Relief softens his features.
'So you see.'
'See what?'
'That it isn't gonna work.'
Blankly, she stares at him. He groans at her failure to understand whatever it is he's trying to communicate.
Use your words, Owen.
'An heiress and a cleaner?' he clarifies. 'I don't think so.'
'You think too much.'
This is perfectly true, yet it elicits another frustrated groan from Owen. He rakes a hand through his hair, scattering drops of water everywhere. He licks his lips and nods, as if having come to a conclusion. This time he is the one who comes closer. He stares into her eyes and stresses every word.
'You have always been good.'
'Hardly,' Alex scoffs. Owen grabs her shoulders. There's nothing threatening about the gesture, though there probably should be. Here's a half-crazy guy standing right in front of her and all Alex can think about is his half-nakedness.
'You don't... You don't get it. Dammit, Alex! Why won't you understand?'
Yes, Alex. WHY WON'T YOU UNDERSTAND?
'Why don't you make me?'
She cringes at herself. That's like the stupidest thing she's ever said. Alex opens her mouth to say something marginally less stupid and that's when Owen kisses her. He steps back immediately, smirking like he's proved his point. The smirk disappears when she clutches him tightly and kisses him back. Quickly, she turns away from him and sweeps aside her hair.
'Unzip my dress.'
When he hesitates, she spurs him on.
'Come on, unzip me. Are we doing this or what?'
In between kisses, he strips the expensive designer dress right off her body. It sends a chill down her spine. He leans into her, biting her neck and she rips off the towel. Her nails claw at his back while he moves his hands across the soft skin of her back and into her hair.
They tumble onto the bed, a tangled mess of angles and curves. Their mouths find each other again as if by instinct. Their kisses are heated. He leans over her, but she pushes him down and climbs on top of him. Alex takes one of his fingers into her mouth and slides her lips up and down it. Her hips move against his. Owen gasps.
'Slow down,' he whispers. She smiles briefly before turning serious.
'Listen to me. You're no more Sam Matthews than I am Alexandra Udinov.'
His face tightens. His jaw becomes a taut line. It's like watching a computer revert to its standby function.
'You can do better than me,' he rasps. The words are the only thing betraying the underlying vulnerability, because his voice is hoarse but devoid of emotion.
'Sure, but I want you,' Alex teases. He shakes his head and, realising that it's useless, she rolls off of him. They've had this conversation a million times before. She's been subtle and direct. She's been demure and seductive. She's flirted and suggested the crudest things. She can't convince him that he is exactly what she wants. She's out of moves.
'How awkward would it have been if we'd forgotten about our earpieces?' Owen chuckles in an attempt to lighten the mood.
'Actually...'
Horrified, he looks at her. Alex takes out her earpiece and shows it to him. She shrugs, not quite apologetic.
Yes, I might be scarred for life, but don't mind me.
'I didn't want to ruin the moment by taking it out,' she explains. Owen looks like he wants to die. Die and be swallowed up by the earth. His embarrassment is a great thing to behold. It gives Alex an idea.
'Hey Birkhoff? Tell Owen that I want him,' she says, holding up the tiny spy device.
She really wants you, dude. We all heard how much she wants you. And I don't mean just now. Seriously, please remove your earpiece in the future. Alex has been going on and on about you for months to anyone who will listen to her. I can get Nikita on here. She'll say the same thing. Or Michael. Michael! Michael, Owen is being an idiot. Tell him...
'Alright, alright, I believe you,' Owen pleads. 'Put that away.'
He regards her as if he still isn't sure, but his mind appears to be on other matters.
'The whole thing? He heard the whole... Oh, shit,' he mumbles, before suddenly starting to laugh. Alex watches him with pleasure. His face eases into a dozen little relaxed wrinkles, his shoulders are loose. His entire body is beautiful as it is right now. An Owen who's not on his guard is like her favourite thing. She places a hand on his stomach; he meets her eyes.
'So?' she asks.
'So...' he responds, slipping an arm around her waist and pulling her closer. They kiss languidly. It's no less passionate than before, but far less hurried. The tips of his fingers ghost over her breasts, her ribs. She trembles and arches her back. His lips move across the bridge of her nose, gently nipping at the skin. They curl into each other, break apart and come together in a series of slow and sweet movements.
It's not until after, as she presses a goodnight kiss to his chest, that he confirms what she already knows.
'I want you too.'
The end.
(***)
Author's note: Reviews are super welcome.