Redemption
Sunlight filtered through the sheer curtains that billowed softly with each passing breeze, bringing in the tropical scent of the island and the sounds of the ocean as it ebbed and flowed right outside the cozy bungalow. Megan slowly opened her eyes and stretched lazily, enjoying the texture of the Egyptian cotton sheets and luxurious bed linins.
Her questing hands soon found a warm, very male body lying next to her, and her lips curved upward into a sensual smile. With a lazy and thoroughly masculine grunt a strong arm curled gently around her and pulled her tightly against her husband of two years. Oh, god, she never thought she could be this happy! That he of all people could make her this happy! After the treachery of her fiancé, and her partner's resignation she'd been so lost. For awhile she'd lost sight of herself…so wrapped up was she in John's world, and being a good hostess/future wife to an up and coming Politician, that she forgot her own hopes and dreams of the future in the process.
Flashback: two years previous
Megan
In the aftermath of the case involving the priest's death, John's betrayal and Mike's desertion on top of it all, Megan just lost it…stress began to build and build, to the point where she finally snapped. With the world around her spiraling out of control she fought grimly to hang on to whatever remnants of control she had left. Like many women, she harbored insecurities about her physical appearance, in her eyes her figure was entirely too boyish. After the debacle that passed for her life lately, she began skipping regular meals, telling herself it would be good for her to lose some weight, and threw herself into work. In truth, food just wouldn't go down, it just sat there in her throat and became too much of an effort to force it down. When invited out to eat she made excuses that grew lamer as time went on.
Then a serial murderer decided to set up headquarters in New York City. His specialty was sexual sadism, torture, and mutilation. Goren, Eames and Megan were all on the task force which included Stabler and Benson from SVU. Hours were long and irregular, which made her growing weight loss easy to overlook…that is until Eames caught her in the shower and got a good look at her prominent ribs and hipbones. She confronted her there and then, blackmailing her into making a doctor's appointment by threatening to tell Ross. Two days later, after fainting in the shower at home and striking her head on the faucet, Megan decided to make that appointment.
Alex Eames went with her the next day to see Dr. Osborne who treated everyone in the office for everything from flu shots to bacterial infections. He was gentle and thorough both in his examination and his questioning. Prescribing an appetite stimulant and sleeping pills to help her rest, he requested to speak to Alex alone. After Megan left he asked about Mike Logan. He told her that the man was all Megan would talk about. "It's my opinion that she shouldn't be left alone right now. She's in a very fragile emotional and physical state. Her weight is a fraction of what it should be! If she had waited even another twelve hours to come in…she'd be hospitalized right now, and I wouldn't have a very promising diagnosis to tell her loved ones." He pinched the bridge of his nose in frustrated concern. "She seems to trust this Mike Logan. My advice…try to get him here," he said. "She needs him. She could die if she doesn't turn around and start taking care of herself, and from what it sounds like you don't have anyone to spare right now to stay and take care of her."
Mike
Sheriff Mike Logan leaned back and studied the buxom blond sitting in front of him, trying her best to "talk" her way out of a traffic violation. Funny how her blouse happens to open a little bit wider every time she leans over my desk.
"Isn't there anything I can do Sheriff, to make this go away? Why my Lionel will take away my little ole car if you ticket me!"
Considering that little ole car was a Jaguar XJ, and she was clocked doing over a hundred in a school zone Mike didn't blame Lionel for locking up the vehicle. The new Mrs. was a speed demon for sure, and this was a monthly occurrence…she'd take her 'little ole car' out for a "drive", be issued a ticket, then come in and offer to show off her breasts in order to get the ticket expunged. Then Lionel would pay it off. He rubbed his eyes tiredly and made a valiant attempt not to sigh too loudly. Why me?
"Look, Mrs.…"
"Oh, call me Bitsy, we're informal around here!"
Ok Mike, keep the eye roll in the head. God, where's Wheeler when I need her?
"Ah, Bitsy," again, part of the monthly routine, "you know I can't overlook clocking in at over a hundred in a school zone…"
"But Sheriff Butler would…"If he had a penny for every time he'd heard that phrase over the last year, he'd be a multi-millionaire. Evidently the previous sheriff overlooked everything.
He finished with the farce and leaned back putting his feet up and sighing. He enjoyed the lazy pace of the island life and had his good buddy to thank for pulling strings to set him up here. No more murder and ugliness, just the occasional traffic violations, domestic disputes and issues with tourists. All in all it was pure heaven…except…restlessness ate at him. He couldn't understand it, couldn't assimilate it…hell, he hated the feeling. It nagged at him, ate at him. He should be deliriously happy, damn it! Here he was in a tropical paradise, hot babes in bikinis strutting around all the time just begging for guys in uniform…ok, so maybe most of them are looking for younger men, but still, he had his fair share of offers. It didn't mean anything that he didn't feel like accepting any right now…he was new in town and wanted to get a feel for the community, that's all. It had absolutely nothing to do with a certain red-haired partner back in NYC who looked so…goddamned devastated…the last time he'd seen her.
He watched news reports of the serial killings, he knew from talking with Goren and Eames that the case was bad. Wheeler…she wouldn't talk to him. No wonder there, he'd deserted her as much as her fiancé, damn his fucking hide, had done. The bastard had used her, her emotions, her connections, her heart, then callously abandoned her to take the fall.
And when she needed him most he did what…the exact same thing.
His office phone rang sharply, startling him out of his reverie. He was ridiculously glad to hear Eames' voice, and asked after everyone eagerly. What he heard was such a shock he was momentarily stunned, hearing only a peculiar buzzing noise in his ears. His deputy broke the spell.
"Boss? You ok?" Danny was at his side in seconds and taking the phone hearing Eames' voice shouting Mike's name. "Hello? Oh, hey E' what's up? Oh, god…really? What happened? How is she doin'? What's the prognosis? How long do you need him? Yeah, I'll take care of everything, he'll be there asap." After hanging up, Danny crouched beside Mike, "You ok, boss man?"
"Yeah," Mike croaked. "She stopped eating, Dan…weighs only 85lbs. Eight-five fucking pounds! She should weigh at least in the 120's…she could've…could still die…my Meg." He raised tortured eyes to his friend and deputy. " Oh god…what have I done?"
"Hey, playing the blame game will not help her right now. She requires your strength, not your pity party. Come on, let's get you out of here and to New York, ok? She needs you right now, and I can hold down the fort here." Danny clapped the older man on the shoulder, and left the office to go make arrangements. Taking a deep breath, Mike wiped at moist eyes and phoned the airport to make flight reservations for New York City.
Megan
She tried, oh how she tried to eat more, drinking protein shakes and snacking on ice cream. To her surprise, Ross was very understanding and readily gave her an extended paid leave of absence, taking her off the task force and putting her on official medical leave. Unfortunately that meant she had nothing better to do but stare at her apartment walls until she had to go see the department shrink…no not fair…Chrystal was wonderful and helping her deal with unresolved and unrequited feelings for a certain dark haired Italian/Irish partner…a preemptory knock sounded on the door, who the hell could that be? She checked the fish-eye lens that gave her a glimpse of the hall. There was the face out of her dreams…and what dreams they were…she felt her face flush, damn his hide, why did he have to come back now, of all times!!!
"Come on Wheeler, let me in. I can hear you breathing on the other side of that door." That voice, like liquid whiskey, flooding her blood with fire yet infinitely soothing.
She broke then, unlocking her door and throwing herself at him, burrowing into him as if to become one, gathering strength from him vicariously. He drew her into the apartment and locked up after them. Then he drew her to the couch, gathered her into his arms and let her cry.
Mike
Mike tried to prepare himself for the condition his old partner would be in, but nothing in the world could prepare him for this. As soon as she'd opened the door he was afforded a glimpse of a gaunt face and eyes so haunted and bruised he'd wanted to weep there and then. Then she'd launched herself at him, stumbling so he'd had to catch her which had been easy, she weighed no more than a child, and he'd felt every bone protruding. My god, she's no more than a living skeleton. When her crying had at last eased to hiccups and sniffling, he murmured his regrets to her.
On the two hour flight over he'd had the time to reflect on the eighteen month separation they'd gone through, all due to his stubborn knack of extreme stupidity. If he were honest, he'd admit that he'd known about her crush on him from the first time they'd met…but had put it down to an adolescent puppy love that would soon give way to the stark reality of a much older and cynically jaded detective. Unabashedly, he wasted no time proving to her what a jackass he was capable of being. What he didn't realize was that what she felt was more than a school girl crush for the 'bad boy' of the department. She'd watched his career from the moment her father had talked about the brash young detective who never knew when to "shut his mouth, but goddamn…he knew how to shut a case."
He realized how much she'd come to mean to him when she agreed to marry that prissy pretty boy fiancé of hers. God, he remembered the night he'd found out. He'd gone out, gotten hammered on the cheapest whiskey he could find, and hired three prostitutes who'd kept him up all night. Thank God, one of them was a friend…a woman named Jackie whom he'd busted a year ago for solicitation, they'd remained good friends ever since. She knew that something bad had happened for him to break his own iron clad rules, so she rounded up a couple of friends for the freebie and made sure he wore condoms, in spite of his drunken protests.
"Sweetie, I love ya for this, but when you wake up…your gonna feel like hell. No reason for you ta feel worse now is there?" she said cheerfully.
Now, gazing down at Wheeler as she tipped her head back and looked at him with those heart breakingly anxious eyes, he said a silent thanks to Jackie for getting him out of what could've been a very tight situation. Lovingly, he smoothed her hair back and smiled a tender smile. "You're stuck with me now, kid. Until you get better, I stick like glue. And FYI I'm going to do all I can to make you fall in love with me again, so you'd better get used to the idea. "
Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open. He took his chance and swooped in, kissing her with tender, yet fierce passion, licking her lips lightly, asking permission to come in. With a small moan she acquiesced and he explored her mouth with leisurely abandonment. He nibbled her bottom lip, and then nipped at her top one. With long, slow, erotic sweeps of his tongue he deflowered her mouth…skillfully mimicking the loving act of sexual gratification until they were clutching one another in an almost violent embrace. Their twin moans of arousal only heightened the sensual awareness shooting through their veins like liquid lightning. They both had to release at the same time out of sheer need for oxygen. Breathing raggedly, he laid his forehead on hers, brown eyes gazing into emerald pools of unshed tears.
"I want to make this perfectly clear Megan." His voice was ragged with desire. She shivered at his use of her first name and his arms tightened reflexively around her. "I left to find myself, and to some extent I did. But I suffered from a restiveness that nearly drove me mad. After some soul searching, and the news that I'd almost lost you…" here he gently pressed his lips to hers again in a soft, sensual kiss that was so tender, it nearly made her weep again. "I found that I'd left a good portion of my heart behind…with you. I intend to make up for that, but I'm not looking for a forever 'girlfriend' who's kept around only for light entertainment and casual sex. Not with you. With you I want it all, lock stock and barrel…vows, commitment...family." She opened her mouth to speak, and he put his finger over it…then they both forgot the topic at hand as he lightly caressed her lips.
Megan
Oh... my... god. I had to be in a drug-induced dream. Michael Danilo Logan was actually saying he loved me? Well, sort of. And he was proposing? OH…MY…GOD…what should I say? I've loved you forever? I only settled for John because you saw me as a "kid"? I must've opened my mouth because suddenly his fingers were on it…touching…and then electricity arcing between us. His touch was so gentle, not like John's at all.
"What, no snappy come back, Wheeler? No 'I told you so'? No 'Go to hell'?" his voice was that familiar cocky 'who gives a shit' tone, but I knew better now. Suddenly I saw in his eyes a new vulnerability…he's scared…he's petrified that I'll say I don't want him.
"Why, Mike? Why do you want me?" He looked at her as though I'd sprouted an additional two heads.
Annoyance flared in those gorgeous brown eyes. "What? What kind of question is that? Look, honey, you and me…we just…" he broke off, struggling to explain what seemed to make perfect sense to him. "We make a kind of weird sense together." At her frown, he hastened to explain. "I've never, ever felt this way before, with anyone else. I find myself talking to you all the time even though you aren't there. Does that sound crazy to you? Because it sounds wonderful to me. I want to know more about you; everything, all that you want out of life, all that you dream about doing …hell, I want to rock on the porch when we're old and hold your hand! I'll even fetch you your teeth when you can't get out of bed anymore, bathe you when you have a fever…watch your belly grow with our child…" he couldn't say anymore because I launched myself at him, kissing him all over his face until he pulled me under him so my back was on the couch cushions and he lay cradled between my warm thighs.
"I love you…I've loved you for so long…" I sobbed between long, intimate embraces.
"Oh, sweetheart…I love you too." He nipped at the side of her neck and nearly groaned aloud at the feel of her delicate shiver. As he ran a hand down her torso he again felt how very thin and delicate she was, and cursed himself for getting her all worked up. She was in no shape for making love, as badly as he wanted to show her how very much he desired her. He gave her one last gentle kiss and sat up, pulling her into a sitting position and rebuttoning her blouse.
Abruptly he stood up and his eyes twinkled at me. "Enough of the distractions, Wheeler. Where's the kitchen, I'm starved!" Then his beautiful trademark grin, but without one thing, the marked cynicism that had dimmed it in the years I'd been partnered with him.
Suddenly I felt a laugh bubble up from a lighter soul, knowing that he would be there to see that I would stand and survive. I stood up and walked to him putting my arms tight around him. "Thank God, Mike, thank God you're here." my voice was shaking. He held me tight, curling his big body around me protectively, whispering reassurances of his love in a ragged tone that spoke volumes of his emotional state. Then he fixed something light and easily eaten for supper and with Logan's coaxing I ate more than I could in a long while.
Mike rejoiced with every pound Megan put back on over the next few months. As her form filled out again, the old sassy Wheeler began to reemerge much to his delight. She was doing so well that the two of them were allowed to assist on the serial case that the press had now dubbed the New York Ripper, after his famous counterpart in London around the latter nineteenth century. This modern day version was nastier, more repulsive and escalating rapidly. The last victim found was completely eviscerated while she was alive. The room she was found in was a virtual slaughterhouse, the walls, ceiling, floor and furnishings all painted and soaked with her blood, tissue and organs. He'd taken his time; the torture had taken place over a period of three days before she'd finally succumbed to shock and blood loss due to her horrific injuries.
His taunts to the PP1 and SVU had become nasty headlines in the paper, and Ross was feeling the heat. One hot August afternoon, Logan and Eames were out chasing a lead and Bobby found himself with Megan looking over past correspondences from the killer to try to get a location of the current victim. The two were talking about the growing relationship between Megan and Mike, trying to interject some normalcy in between crawling around the dark and twisted hell that was this murderer's psyche. Bobby confided in her that he and Alex had been an item for almost a year. He told her they wanted to get married, and have kids, but couldn't see doing that in the city. Not after all they see on the job.
Then, he stopped talking, looking puzzled as he turned the latest "Dear Boss" letter from their perp. upside down. "Wait a minute… Where are the other letters?" Excitement began to roll off him in waves as he grabbed other letters and turned them, first upside down, then clock-wise until he deciphered the pattern.
"Yes!!! I've got you, you bastard." He looked at Megan. "Let's go"
We sped through the city as Bobby rattled off his theory to Ross over the radio and requested backup. Ross was hesitant, thinking this was another wild goose chase, and Bobby growled that another girl's life would be on his head and he would personally sacrifice Ross to the 5:00 news if he didn't see squad cars there asap. All too soon we reached an abandoned warehouse district along the docks and Bobby waited all of 3 seconds before finding an unlocked door and moving purposefully in, weapon drawn. I moved in behind him and, with my Glock at the ready prepared myself to cover his ass. Eames' would never forgive me if something happened to him. We moved in tandem, my instincts in the field coming back to me as I watched both the surroundings and his signals. After moving through the front part of the largest warehouse, we discovered it had a subterranean level and, as quietly as possible moved down the rickety stairs. Bobby, no light weight by any means, was surprisingly quiet on his feet as we descended into hell.
We both could hear it now. A girl's moan, more like the whimper of a child too profoundly weary to cry anymore. A red light throbbed somewhere as though in time with some ghastly music. We put our backs to the wall and kept our weapons trained ahead, behind, eyes sharp, instincts at the ready.
The room was tiny but outfitted to make even the most jaded of torturers weak with envy. Various tools, some for cutting, some for smashing through bone, some whose purpose eluded me; lay spread out on a table, gleaming with surgical precision. The crowning glory was a steel table, not unlike an autopsy table with grooves to wash away blood and bodily fluids, but this one…ah…this one tilted for its master's maximum enjoyment. At the moment, the table was occupied by what looked like carved up road kill. Until she moaned, and moved.
"Dear god" Bobby breathed. He rushed over to administer what aid he could, what good Samaritan with a heart of gold wouldn't? When I heard a strange soft pffftt of air beside me and I saw him jerk before falling to his knees. I screamed his name, starting for him when something hit me on the back of my head. An explosion of pain and I knew nothing more.
Mike
Mike and Alex were out following up on a lead about a certain grouping of abandoned warehouses along the waterfront. They were on their way to check it out when they got the call from Ross that Bobby picked up a clue from the notes sent by the perp. Eames confirmed with Ross she was following up with the same warehouses he called out the squad cars and soon there were a fleet of officers and the S.W.A.T. team descending on the area.
"Captain, do we know which warehouse Goren was focusing on?" Mike asked. "No, and I can't reach him or Wheeler either."
Mike spun around to face Ross. "What…do…you…mean…Wheeler?" His eyes bore holes into those of his former captains and his tone was deadly.
"Mike, Goren couldn't go out there alone, and like it or not, she is still part of my squad." His tone whipped out at the other man.
He may have had a point, but I don't care. She was not well…he had no right…god, neither do I at this point. I seethed. She could be in horrible danger…but Goren will protect her. Think Mike, think like him…"Did you bring those notes Goren was looking at?"
"Yeah, but…"
"Give 'em too me, Eames?" Together they discussed what he may have looked at, but it was ultimately Mike that discovered the hidden map. "This one!!" The second he shouted it, the storm began.
Megan
Cold, so cold. Head hurts. Should I open eyes? Oh, no, no…gonna throw up if I do that. What's that light? Something tickles on my forehead. Attempting to wipe away the distraction, I soon discover that I can't move my hands. I try to open my eyes to see what impedes my efforts. Pain explodes. OOhh my head…where am I? Mike?
I hear someone, they walk by me. Someone else must be sick too. I hear him, wait, no two people. Perhaps I'm in the hospital. One groans, deep and hurting, then oh god, a cry of agony, and another, higher up, on a bed? A female this time, whimpers, groans then begins to scream in anguish as her torture begins anew. The sound blasts my ears and her cries of suffering become my own as my eyes finally open and I see the monster that lurks in the dark.
Mike
If I live to be a hundred I will never forget the screams that led us down to the cellar and into the mouth of hell. The look on my Meg's face as she stared at that…that…words fail me. We were almost too late for young Juanita Rose. She needed several pints of O+ (and a lot of plastic surgery before she could feel comfortable being seen in public). The perp was happily carving her up like a Christmas turkey, he'd shot Bobby in the back and tied up Megan to use for his next "experiment".
He was honestly perplexed and annoyed that he'd gotten caught! The best thing to come out of it was that Juanita met a handsome Latino sergeant that fateful day and he taught her true beauty comes from within. They are happily married now, with their second child on the way. Bobby's shoulder wound was not life-threatening, but it was life-changing. He got his wish and married the girl of his dreams, one Alexandra Eames, and got her knocked up on their wedding night. They are blissfully happy about that. And me? Oh, yeah. I got my girl.
That night I thought of how close I came to losing her forever and paid Carver to get me a Judge and we got hitched. I told her we could do the whole white dress shin-dig thing later, but I wasn't letting her out of my sight. Then we commenced with the wedding night. Dear god, she rocked my world, my little firecracker. I realized something, no matter what your past may be, if love is in your future, then embrace it for all it's worth.
Megan
I'll always remember the sight of Juanita in the hands of that maniac. Yes, I know…cops are supposed to be neutral, but when you are confronted with sheer, unadulterated evil, there is no room for objectivity. He was humming…humming for god's sake…as he carved up her abdomen, face, arms… The memory still haunts my dreams and Mike has had to put up with less than the full eight hours of sleep he needs due to consoling me.
After the perp was arrested and carted off to the Asylum (I wish the place Goren investigated were still open, although I wouldn't tell him that for the world), Mike rode with me to the hospital, where he insisted I go to be checked out, and stayed beside me through the night. I don't think I've ever seen him look so scared…the big, tough, macho detective. When I was released the following morning he informed me that the DA himself, Ron Carver had arranged for our wedding ceremony to take place that afternoon! Excuse me…what?
"Excuse me…what? Who said anything about marriage…I don't recall being…oh…um…proposed to…for instance? Did this happen while I was sleeping maybe? Or unconscious perhaps? Maybe the strike on my head caused temporary amnesia?" her tone was a little caustic.
"I'm sensing some sarcasm…"
"Do you think so? Oh…I'm so sorry. That's not my intention at all…I'm merely trying to ascertain exactly when the subject came up in conversation, and if I indeed reacted favorably to the notion." She was definitely going to marry this adorable man, but NOT before she gave him hell first! Abruptly, he pulled into a parking spot adjacent to her building. He opened her door and hastened her up to her apartment where they could talk uninterrupted.
"Wheeler…Megan, look I realized that I'm going about this ass backwards but when I saw you trussed up and lying there…ready for sacrifice to his sick, twisted little mind…" he pulled her into a tight embrace, burying his face into her fragrant hair. "God…sweetheart, I'd want to die if anything ever happened to you. You are my life, my heart and I can't exist one more moment without you in it. We can do the big church shin-dig, white dress, everyone-gets-hammered reception later if you want, but right now I need you to be mine, and to know that I'm yours."
"Oh, Mike…" her resolve melted with the tide of emotion that welled up within her. She stood on tiptoe and lightly brushed her lips back and forth across his. She felt his big body shudder with relief before he crushed her to him in a bruising embrace that took her breath away with its passion.
"Megan Anne Wheeler, make me the happiest man alive and marry me…please?" he murmured into her ear.
She beamed up at him. "Yes." The reply was elegant, simple and achingly sweet.
The bride and groom stood before the judge in his chambers with their friends by their side. Vows were said in husky, earnest voices that brought tears to the eyes of observers. When the pronouncement was made that two were now one, the embrace was an impassioned, life affirming acceptance of the love that finally brought them together. After a congratulatory luncheon at a fine restaurant, Mike took his wife…oh, how wonderful that word was…home to bed.
Once inside her flat, she seemed to get a sudden attack of nerves. He smiled to himself over this…they'd not gone beyond very heavy petting since he kissed her the first time as she'd still been recuperating. Now, he intended her to be his wife in all ways…and he intended her to enjoy it…many, many times throughout the night. My love, I'm going to pleasure you thoroughly tonight…I've waited all my life for you and you shall feel well cherished, for that is what you are.
He watched with amused tolerance as she fussed with throw pillows and asked if he wanted some wine…nope, just you spread eagle and waiting for my mouth on your…
"Mike…Mike!" He started.
"What, honey?"
"Why are you just staring at me like that?"
I grew unaccountably nervous the closer we got to my apartment. I felt so happy at the court house and restaurant. I don't think I've ever seen this side of my partn…I mean my husband, wow, I can't believe I can call him that! For so long he's been the subject of my longing heart yet so out of reach. Now, he's mine. And he's happy. It staggers me that I have this effect on him, not some 19 yr. old stick insect, but me.
We get inside and this nervous energy intensifies until it demands an outlet NOW. I look around and see some throw pillows askew, I straighten these and turn to ask Mike if he wants something to drink…maybe I can find something in the kitchen to do. What the hell? That's when I notice the burning look in his eyes as he stares straight at me.
"Why are you just staring at me like that?"
He doesn't answer. Instead he stalks toward me with an almost predatory gait, hips rolling with masculine grace under his dark navy dress slacks, hands going up to unbutton his white dress shirt. I am caught, like a rabbit in a spot light…staring with unholy fascination at each inch of skin that is tantalizingly revealed as each button is inexorably pushed through its hole.
By the time he reached me it was open to his waist, and I could no more help but touch him then I could help breathing. As if mesmerized I watched as my hands lifted and ghosted over his well muscled chest, tangling them in the fine dark hairs that grew in a V that arrowed down to the waist band of his pants. I followed the path of my hands with my eyes as they roamed south toward the fastening of his britches. He watched my fascination with burning eyes that snapped shut as he muttered an oath when my searching digits found, then freed what I ultimately sought.
"Meg…god!" he ground through clenched teeth as I lightly stroked his broad tip, coaxing out a bead of moisture and spreading a thin layer over the entire head with a hum of pleasure. He grasped my chin with slightly rough fingers and took my mouth with a savage kiss to which I responded with equal ferocity. Stooping he swung me easily into his arms and carried me into the bedroom.
Where did she learn that little move from? Whoever he was I'm gonna kill him…Mike could barely think anymore as he carried his wife into their bedroom. Carefully, he set her down not once removing his lips from hers. His hands went unerringly to the back of her gorgeous ivory dress, and slowly he unzipped it, paying homage to the silken skin revealed as it parted. When it at last pooled to the floor, he stepped back and merely gazed at her extraordinary beauty, his auburn haired pixie in a taupe bra and panties with a matching garter, and high heels.
"You are so beautiful…" the awe in his voice made her flush.
"No, I'm not…" the automatic refusal was muffled by his naked chest as he pulled her to him in a hug.
"Look at me." She raised her head, eyes holding a question. "Now…listen. You. Are. Beautiful. To me."
She smiled a dazzling smile, then chuckled. "Find something about that funny, Detective?" he began to nibble on her ear and she moaned his name.
"No…no. It's just that…ummm that feels sooo good…that…wasn't that the name of a song?" He looked down at her, puzzled.
"You know, the one by Joe Cocker, 'You are so Beautiful To Me'." She sang a few bars of the familiar chorus.
She looked so adorably innocent that he knew at once she was teasing him mercilessly. She got no warning other than a slight narrowing of his eyes before she was unceremoniously dumped on the bed. She was howling with laughter by the time he had her pinned naked beneath him.
Soon, all thought other than the sensation of flesh on flesh was driven out of their minds. Hands became exquisite instruments of torture; skimming, stroking, delving into hidden recesses, all with the purpose of inducing pure mind melting pleasure in the other partner. His talented lips drew sighs of delight that grew into cries of fulfillment.
When the final joining occurred their twin groans of ecstasy were mingled as they kissed with abandon. Mike rocked gently to work his way into her, god…she's sooo tight…she squirmed a little with discomfort, but grabbed his ass when he would've pulled out of her in concern. She took the bull by the horns, (or in this case-by the butt) and pulled him in sharply, seating him to the hilt. He caught his breath jaggedly and shut his eyes, fighting for control.
He began to move gently, at first, watching her reactions for any sign of discomfort. When she looked up at him with loving eyes and eagerly opened her legs to accept more of him, he growled low in his throat and let himself go. Plunging inside of her, deep enough to nudge the very entrance of her womb, he felt the first tremors of her orgasm. Seconds later she was bucking and shouting his name, along with a litany of bawdy love words that delighted him to no end. He joined her soon after, showering her with his seed and forever joining them as man and wife.
Two years later
Megan snoozed snuggled contentedly in Mike's loving arms. Soon however, a small grunt was heard over the baby monitor next to the bed. Some restless movements, then sounds of suckling and littler grunts.
"Dear heaven, we're raising a piglet" Mike chuckled as he nuzzled Meg's neck.
"Hmmm, you won't be joking much longer when she starts shouting."
"True, lie still; I'll bring her to you." His lips met hers, settled, and stayed for a long, lingering kiss. "I love you, Mrs. Logan."
"Ditto, Mr. Logan." She smiled as she listened to him tend to his 1 month old daughter's needs. As frightened as he was when she'd told him she was pregnant, he made a terrific father. He'd stepped right in, changing diapers…"My god, all she eats is breast milk, what is this toxic waste?", helping her pump breast milk, she had to admit for some perverse reason he liked watching that, and packing the diaper bag. She couldn't wait to see his smile on their daughter's face. She remembered how protective he'd been about the cases she'd overseen.
After what had happened in NYC Ross and the Goren's decided on a fresh new start. So with the money they received from retirement and some small business loans, they came down to Louisiana and, with Megan and Mike, started Logan, Goren and Ross Inc. a private security firm on the island and in neighboring New Orleans. Within the year they were able to pay a sizable chunk of their loan off.
On the afternoon of her daughter's birth she'd been in the island office cleaning up some files when her water broke…three weeks early. Contractions followed immediately, hard and strong. She called Mike who broke all laws of physics and gravity to make it to her side. After weeks of planning, picking out the clothes and packing for the hospital on the mainland, preparing at Lamaze class; Mother Nature picked that day, of all days, to dump a tropical storm which grounded all ferries and boats to the mainland. The island doctor was called, and Meg was made as comfortable as possible, everyone she loved was there, Alex, Bobby, Ross…and Mike, always Mike. It was an arduous and difficult birth being her first. As the hours stretched by, the strain on both parents grew exponentially. Megan tried so hard to hold the cries in as the pain of labor increased; only allowing whimpers out as each contraction squeezed her abdomen in its vise. Mike was sweating bullets just watching his wife suffer and knowing he was helpless to do anything about it.
By the eighteenth hour of labor, and the sixth of hard labor, she had given up any pretense of stoicism and gave out gut-wrenching cries when the relentless waves of pain crashed over her. Mike was sitting beside her, talking in low and soothing tones, and rubbing her back, all the while silent tears were tracking down his cheeks.
It seemed like days later…time ceased to have meaning here; the sky dark with the storm, wind howling and thunder crashing…when the doctor told Meg she was fully dilated. He instructed Mike and Alex how to hold her legs, and Bobby to hold her in a semi-seated position. Ross stood to her side for moral support, and in case the Doc. needed anything else. Now, with each contraction, Megan was permitted to push and it felt sooo good to do something active! Each time she pushed Bobby would lift her gently into a seated position to help compel the infant out of the birth canal safely. The doctor reached in and gently pulled the infant out, gathering it into a clean linen table cloth and gesturing to Logan permission to cut the cord.
"Well, papa! Come and look at your beautiful little girl while I take care of her lovely mama." He gave Megan a fatherly wink as he handed a dazed and exhausted Mike his tiny bundle.
Light blue eyes gazed up into deep brown ones, assessing and wondering. Finally tiring of this, and figuring that this was not the person who cradled her for the past nine months; she squinted those amazing orbs, opened up that tiny kittenish mouth and let out a screech worthy of the owl that carries its name.
Although Dani Michaela Logan was only 5lbs 4oz and 17in long everyone agreed that she had Mike's vocal chords.
Mike entered with our Dani in tow and lay down beside me as I prepared myself for feeding. Greedily she latched onto my breast and curled a fist over my heart as she stared up at me trying her hardest to focus on my face. I murmured loving words to her as I stroked her face and held her hand.
When I turned back to my husband with a smile I caught tears, barely held in check, swimming in his eyes. "Mike, what's wrong, sweetheart?"
"Watching you with her, my own mother…" his voice was rough with emotion. "Just knowing she has you for a mother means so much to me, I can never get enough of watching you with her."
"I watch you with her too."I gave him a tender and loving smile as I deftly moved her to my other breast. "You are so gentle, so protective. I worry about the boys who want to date her."
He harrumphed. "They'll have to run the gamut. Ross and Bobby will be waiting in line." His grin was positively evil.
"True" I smile as, replete; our daughter fell asleep, a drop of milk still on her rosebud mouth. I gently wipe it clean and lay her down in the pretty bassinet beside the California king size bed. Mike and I move once again into each other's arms.
"You know what, kid?" I look up at him inquiringly. "Loving you has been my redemption." I moved then, reaching up tender hands to bring his mouth to mine, because I know exactly what he means.