Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds
A/N - This story is the sequel to Russian Roulette and contains characters introduced in that story.
Prologue
Belgrade, Serbia 2003
A shadow suddenly fell across the patio table as Emily crushed her cigarette in the ashtray. She had seen him coming: winding his way through the maze of tables, a briefcase in his hand with a portly dark-skinned man trailing in his wake. She lifted an arrogant gaze and leaned back in her chair.
"You're late, Ned." The annoyance in her voice was evident and Nenad Bankovic paused before taking the chair directly across from her. He set the briefcase on the ground between them. His stout companion fell heavily onto the chair next to him, coughing furiously into a handkerchief. "And who the hell is this? This was supposed to be a private meeting."
"Plans change. You of all people should know that." The mercenary glanced at the man next to him. "Besides, I think you'll thank me once this meeting is over."
Emily eyed Nenad's companion with some trepidation. There was something vaguely familiar about him. The man in question was tucking his handkerchief back into the breast pocket of his designer suite as he eyed Emily with interest.
"Lauren Reynolds, this is Juan Carlos Moreno. My new business partner."
Emily raised an eyebrow at the introduction. The name filled in the blanks of her memory and she found herself praying to any deity that might be listening. There was always this chance. The seedy underbelly of society may seem huge to the average citizen, but on the inside, sometimes it just wasn't big enough.
She turned her attention back to Nenad. "Business partner? Since when do you have a business partner?"
"Juan Carlos has an impressive export business out of Columbia, and our new partnership will go a long way in funding my cause. Including more merchandise from you. And as it happens, he is looking for a supplier."
Juan Carlos chuckled at Nenad's statement and Emily's lips thinned as she regarded him. Export business indeed. Juan Carlos was one of the most dangerous drug lords in Columbia. Calculating and ruthless, he managed to take out his leading competition several years ago: Andres Rojas. Rojas had been Emily's assignment until his untimely death.
The years since Emily last saw this man had not been kind to him. His dark skin was damp with perspiration, even in the crisp spring air, and his expensive suit strained against his bulk. In contrast, the small Serbian next to him was like a lean, coiled snake: ready to strike at a moment's notice.
"Ms. Reynolds is it? Nenad said you were good, but he failed to mention how beautiful you are." The Columbian studied her with a predatory gaze for a long moment. Emily held his stare and refused to acknowledge the compliment.
His eyes narrowed as he suddenly leaned forward. "You know, Bella Dama, I'm usually terrible with names, unless the name is attached to a pretty face. And your lovely face reminds me of my old rival's supplier that I once tried to steal away from him. But I'm almost certain her name was Deanna, not Lauren." A small knowing smile quirked his mouth and he leaned back in his chair.
Emily turned back to Nenad. "Are we through with the small talk? I'd like to get down to business. I assume that's for me." She nodded slightly to the briefcase on the ground.
Nenad inclined his head as he lowered his voice. "You were able to get me everything I asked for? Even the RPGs?"
"Have I ever let you down, Ned? I even threw in something extra that I think you're going to like." She placed a key on the table between them. "The address to the storage unit is taped underneath my…" Emily jumped in shock as something warm and wet sprayed her face and neck.
With a strangled gurgle, Juan Carlos slumped in his seat, his eyes vacant as a crimson stain spread across the chest of his designer suit.
"Nenad get down!" Scrambling from her chair, Emily tipped the table and quickly ducked behind it as Nenad dove for cover next to her. Around them the sounds of panic filled the outdoor cafe as people hurried to get out of the line of fire, but after the first single shot, no other rounds were fired.
Emily peaked around the table and scanned the buildings surrounding them. A curtain fluttered in a third story window to the north of them, but if the shooter had been there, he was now gone. She grabbed a handful of napkins from the dispenser that had fallen to the ground and attempted to scrub the blood from her face and neck. Luckily her jacket was dark and it hid any traces of the blood seeping into the fabric.
"We need to split up and get out of here before the authorities show up." Emily ripped the paper attached to her over-turned chair and thrust it at Nenad. "I'm really disappointed in this turn of events, Ned," she spat. "I think it's best if we laid low for a little while."
Nenad looked at her incredulously. "You think I had something to do with this?"
Emily rose to a slight crouch, ready to flee the scene, when a hand on her arm stopped her.
"Lauren, wait! I still need a supplier to arm my men. Kosovo won't stay quiet for long; I can feel it."
She suppressed a shiver at the fever in the Serbian's eyes at the mention of the Kosovo Liberation Army. "I'm still your supplier Ned. But obviously things are a little hot right now. I'll be in touch." She rose from her crouch and walked briskly away.
The only thing on her mind was the hotel bar. After a near death afternoon and the phone conversation she just had, she didn't feel that a drink or three was too out of line. She cringed as she thought about her argument with Clyde.
"Sean thinks it's too dangerous there and you need to leave tonight."
"That's not happening Clyde!" Emily's voice rose with every word. She had already butted heads several times with Sean since Interpol - London requested the task force's assistance with the Valhalla cell. "I'll leave tomorrow after I know Nenad has picked up the package. You know how important this is." Emily had been working Nenad Bankovic for the past six months with secret meetings and weapon dealings and every time they met, she added a little more to her working profile of him. But the weapons she sold him today were tagged. Now they would be able to provide the Serbian government with not only her intel and profile, but the location of his hidden army.
"Darling…"
"Besides it's not his call. He's in charge of the Valhalla mission and that's it." Sean had not been happy with Clyde and Emily's plan to use their Boston contacts to try and gain an introduction to Valhalla's lieutenant. And in Emily's opinion, he was going to derail the mission before it even had a chance to start.
"Darling, he's afraid you'll get yourself killed in Serbia and Valhalla will be a bust before we even get you in." Clyde's soothing voice grated on her nerves.
Emily took a deep breath and decided to change the subject. "Any Intel on the shooting?"
She heard him sigh into the phone. "We don't have anything yet, but I have Jeremy digging further."
Emily lifted her glass for a sip of Bordeaux, when she suddenly sensed a presence on her other side. With an inward sigh she turned; ready to shoot down the brave soul who thought he could seduce her tonight.
She was not prepared for the wide grin and mischievous gray eyes of her former partner, and she gasped out loud in shock. They had not seen each other since the CIA had assigned her to the JTF-12 team, and the months apart seemed to melt away as she stared into his twinkling eyes. "Nicholas Murphy, what the hell…" Her voice trailed off as Nick pulled her into a crushing embrace.
Nick laughed in delight at her stunned reaction. "My God, Emily. How long has…" He stopped abruptly when he felt her frame stiffen in his arms. She shifted slightly, her head buried in the crook of his neck and he felt her lips move as she murmured against his skin. "I can't hear you, silly."
Clutching his shirt she drew him closer to her, and whispered softly in his ear. "I'm Lauren. My name is Lauren Reynolds." She studied his face as he pulled away from her, noting the comprehension in his eyes, followed by a flicker of sadness.
He recovered quickly as he guided her back to the bar stool. As she sat, he leaned close to her once more. "You don't really look like a Lauren to me. I think I'll just call you by your old code name. I know how much you loved it." He smirked in amusement at the glare she gave him as he took the stool next to her.
She motioned for the bartender and turned back to Nick, pulling a cigarette from her pack resting on the bar. "What are you doing in Belgrade? How long have you been here? Where are Dean and Tom?"
Nick grinned broadly at the onslaught of questions and turned to the bartender as she approached. "What she's having, please." He turned back to Emily as she lit her cigarette and gazed at her with frank approval. The soft curls that framed her face fell to just below her shoulders and he reached out to lightly brush a strand away from her face. His eyes dropped to the sapphire blue dress that hugged her curves and showed off a healthy expanse of her long slender legs.
"Ah hem." Emily interrupted his inspection and he raised his eyes. As his gaze caught hers, she dipped her head demurely from a shyness she had never before experienced in his presence. Chiding herself for her foolishness, she looked back up at Nick, her eyes flashing with humor. "Are you going to answer my questions or just sit there staring like a horny teenager?"
The humor faded from her eyes and her breath hitched when their gazes locked and she saw the heat behind Nick's stare. Running a nervous tongue over her bottom lip, she tried to pry her eyes from his, but he held her with a burning intensity she had never before seen from him, and suddenly the world around her blurred out of existence for a moment.
They both startled when the bartender arrived with the wine and Nick chuckled as he shook his head. "I've been here a couple of days, but I'm leaving tomorrow. And no, Tom and Dean are not with me. I'm solo on this trip."
"But what are you doing here?" Emily was struggling to find equilibrium. The shock of running into Nick and the affect his presence was having, threatened to overwhelm her. She took a drag from her cigarette in an attempt to calm herself.
"I think we should find us a booth somewhere." Nick rose from his bar stool, took the cigarette from her fingers and crushed it in the ashtray before pulling her from her seat. With his hand under her elbow and the other one gripping his wine glass, he guided her across the room to a secluded booth at the back of the bar.
"You know I could ask you the same question Bambi, but I probably won't get an answer." He smiled when Emily rolled her eyes at the name. "Just a freelance job I wrapped up today." Nick raised the wine glass to his lips and took a small sip. "Very nice, you always did have great taste in wine."
Emily leaned towards him and whispered urgently, "Juan Carlos Moreno."
He paused for a moment before resting the glass back on the table. "You want to reminisce about the 'good ole days' in Buenaventura?" His voice was light, but Emily sensed a slight tension in his tone.
"Nick, I got made today. Juan Carlos recognized me as Deanna, but he was shot and killed before he could out me to my target." Emily studied him closely, watching for a reaction. She was rewarded with the nearly imperceptible widening of his eyes.
"What were you doing with Juan Carlos Moreno?" His soft voice held a dangerous edge.
"You know I can't tell you that. It doesn't matter anyway, since he's dead. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that would you?" She gave Nick a pointed stare and his eyes hardened momentarily before he dropped his gaze to the drink in front of him.
He had been so focused on finding a clear shot, that the other occupants at that table were just a peripheral. Was he here because of her? His orders had come from his handler, but who was the one pulling the strings in this dangerous puppet show? Shit, he could have killed her.
"Why would I? Bambi…excuse me, Lauren. You think too much, you always did. Moreno had a lot of enemies and you caught a lucky break. Those do happen you know." Nick looked up from his drink and reached out to pull Emily closer to him in the booth. His mood was suddenly light again as he kissed the top of her head. "We haven't seen each other in a year and a half. Let's not talk shop right now. I've missed you."
Emily sighed as she leaned against his shoulder. She shouldn't dwell on the topic, but she couldn't help herself. Nick's sudden change in topic wasn't fooling her either. Interpol must have tipped off the CTIC about Nenad's sudden interest in Juan Carlos. Did the CTIC get Nick and the CIA involved? Was he brought here to keep her cover intact? Although he didn't seem to know she was with Juan Carlos Moreno and if the CTIC knew, they hadn't told Clyde. Maybe his assignment had nothing to do with her after all. That coincidence was too big for her to swallow.
She snuggled closer to Nick and his arm around her tightened. His familiar scent was intoxicating and her mind flashed back to their past together: protecting each other in the field and flirting with each other at every opportunity. Nick was incorrigible, naughty, sexy, and sometimes irksome. Her reaction to him, after several months apart, was the same as it had been the first time they met. Back then she was a brash, young, CIA operative who was slightly overwhelmed and enthralled by the tall, golden man assigned to watch her back. Now she was a seasoned, somewhat cynical, CIA operative, who was still slightly enthralled by the tall, golden man pressed against her.
The music in the bar changed from a current pop song to "Vamonos Pal Monte" by Eddie Palmieri, and Emily and Nick both grinned at the couples attempting to dance the salsa.
"Shall we show them how it's done?" Nick tugged at her wrist, pulling her with him as he began to slide out of the booth.
Emily's eyes widened in surprise and she tugged back as she anchored herself in the booth. "Nick, no; I don't want to draw attention to myself."
"Then you shouldn't have worn that dress."
Emily threw her head back and laughed at Nick's corny come-on. It wasn't lost on her that just a few short hours ago she was ducking behind a table hiding. Probably from the very person she was now sharing a drink and a laugh with. But as she looked into the dancing, gray eyes of her former partner, she couldn't bring herself to care. She needed this. For far too long she had been living as someone else and the stress of maneuvering through the crime world, establishing herself as Lauren Reynolds was taking its toll. With her next target identified, it seemed unlikely that she would be leaving this world anytime soon. Lauren was quickly pushed to the back of her mind. Tonight was for Emily.
Nick drew her body back to his and leaned in close. Emily's heart thundered in her chest and she jumped when she felt his hand brush her cheek.
"You know, I've always wanted to kiss you." She shivered as his words caressed her ear.
"We've kissed before, several times." Emily murmured softly. She let her gaze drift back to the dance floor.
He made a noise of frustration. "No. I mean I've always wanted to kiss you. Not because it was part of our cover, but because we both know that there's always been something between us. But we were partners, so…"
Emily turned back to him as his voice trailed off. The intensity in his eyes was a sharp contrast to the loving way he suddenly cupped her face. She knew if they turned this corner, there was no going back. But after years of denial, she was more than ready to take that next step. "So what's stopping you now?"
At her question, she saw his pupils dilate slightly and she drew his head close to hers. Softly, she brushed her lips against his as she breathed, "We're not partners anymore."
Her challenge caused the reaction she had been hoping for and his mouth claimed hers with an urgency that surprised her. Their long ago undercover kisses seemed banal in comparison as their pent-up desire fueled the passion between them.
Emily gasped in shock as her back hit the floor and Nick tumbled to the ground beside her. Somehow they had managed to make it back to her hotel room, their bodies a tangle of limbs as clothes were hastily removed and discarded.
Emily rolled over and pressed herself against him. God, she wanted him. She had always wanted him like this: skin on skin, his mouth and hands on her body, overwhelming her senses. He was everywhere: tasting, touching, stroking. She grabbed his head and pulled him in for a deep kiss, savoring the taste of him.
The want turned to a need that she could no longer ignore as Emily pushed him back and straddled him. With a deliberate slowness that took every ounce of her self-control, she lowered herself onto Nick. Her world narrowed to only this moment. Nothing else mattered except Nick beneath her, around her, inside her.
As she began to move above him, Nick couldn't tear his gaze away from her. The way her eyes would close as she ground against him with each downward motion; the soft smile that would play across her swollen mouth when he cupped her breasts as they bounced above him; her hair as it traced across her shoulders with each movement of her body; the seductive way she would bite her lip and throw her head back when his fingers stroked her core. Every breath, moan and sigh set his blood on fire.
Emily's face tightened and her pace became more demanding as her need for release consumed her. Nick firmly grabbed her hips, keeping her steady as her strokes came faster and harder until finally, she exploded around him, crying his name. He thrust deep inside her with his own release, following her into sweet oblivion.
She collapsed onto his chest, gasping for breath as her walls still shuddered around him. Nick's rapid heartbeat pounded loudly in her ear and she raised her head and kissed him softly on the chin, a small satisfied smile on her face. She couldn't remember the last time she had been with a man that she had an actual connection with. Relationships were difficult to maintain in their line of work, and she had long since grown weary of one night stands.
Rolling over, Nick trapped her beneath him and she groaned as he slipped from her body. "Goddamn it woman, you didn't even let me get you into bed." Emily chuckled as she tilted her head back and regarded the large bed behind her from her vantage on the floor.
"You were taking too damn long." She murmured as she pulled him back towards her.
He kissed and nipped along her jaw, tracing a path towards her ear. His tongue softly traced the shell, sending shivers of pleasure through her body. "I knew you were a screamer." He whispered and he smirked at the look of indignation on her lovely face.
"I didn't scream..." She glowered at him and tried not to smile.
"I plan on making you scream at least a couple more times before the night is over. But not here."
The bed was large and inviting and did look much softer than the floor they had just made love on. As she padded over to the bed, Emily felt Nick's eyes on her body; specifically, the small phoenix brand on her hip. Turning to face him, she recognized the troubled look in his eyes as he crawled onto the bed next to her, and she knew that seeing the brand had sparked his long buried guilt for her capture so many years ago.
With a small sigh, she ran her fingers lightly over his chest. "You know, the two of us never really discussed the Alkaev incident."
He squeezed her hand and held it tight against his chest. "I never wanted to pry."
"I'm not talking about me." She wasn't surprised by his stunned expression and pressed on before he tried to shut her down. "I dealt with it; Dean made sure of that. But you… You hovered over me like some sort of macho guardian angel for weeks, so I know it affected you." She snuggled closer and rested her head on his chest. "Talk to me Nick."
"You were my partner, I shouldn't have left you."
"You were following orders. And besides, you would have been captured right along with me."
"Maybe not. And even if I had been, at least you wouldn't have gone through that alone."
"But I wasn't alone." Emily whispered. "I had all three of you right there with me." She lifted her head to meet his gaze.
"Did you have nightmares? Afterwards, I mean." His voice was soft, almost timid, which was very uncharacteristic for him.
"Not that I could remember. I did have flashbacks though." She hesitated for a moment as she repositioned herself around him. "Did you have nightmares?" He turned his gaze to the ceiling, effectively avoided her eyes. "Nick."
"I had the same dream every night for several weeks." His voice was void of any emotion, as if by distancing himself he wouldn't have to remember his pain and guilt.
"What was the dream?"
He pulled away from her and sat up, swinging his legs over the bed, with his back to her. "I was running through a maze of corridors looking for you. I was frantic because I couldn't find you. I could hear them beating you and I knew that if I didn't get to you in time…" He rubbed his eyes and sighed in frustration. "The dream always ended the same: with your scream. The one we heard through the comm after that son of a bitch branded you."
Nick fell silent for a long moment and Emily waited patiently for him to continue. "I shouldn't have left you." His whisper was barely audible and his shoulders sagged at his admittance.
Moving behind him Emily pressed against his back and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. As she softly kissed the back of his neck, she pondered what she could possibly say to this man who had saved her life on numerous occasions, but was still haunted by this one incident: his perceived failure.
"I wish I knew what to say." She felt him shrug his shoulders slightly. "Nobody but you thinks it was your fault. It's part of the job. Do you know how pissed I would have been if you had come back for me and gotten yourself captured?"
"I would have…"
"Let me put it this way. What if you had been captured instead of me?" Nick turned slightly to face her, his eyebrows furrowed in thought. "Would you have expected me to come back for you, even after I was ordered to leave?"
"Of course not!"
Emily smirked as she moved away from him and back to her side of the bed. "Okay, you do see the double standard here, right?"
Nick sighed as he turned fully to face her. "I know, but I can't help what I feel."
"Can I just say one more thing and then we can drop the subject?" He eyed her warily, but nodded his head for her to continue. "Get over yourself!" She grabbed his pillow and smacked it against his head as he tried to duck out of the way. "Besides, if you had been caught, I would have had to escape and rescue your sorry ass."
With a soft laugh and a smile that almost reached his eyes he conceded, "That's probably true." He crawled across the bed and pulled her into his arms.
"Now can you begin to move past this?"
"Yes. I promise I will try, if we can please stop talking about it." He drew her closer, buried his face in the crook of her neck and inhaled. Emily never wore perfume nor used any fragrant soaps or shampoos: an identifying scent could be hazardous in the world of espionage, so the scent he inhaled was naturally her. "Emily."
"Lauren." She corrected him softly.
"There's no one here but us and I'm not calling you by that name while I'm in your bed, Emily." He said her name with a growl before he captured her mouth with his.
True to his word, she screamed his name twice more before the night was over. Their second time was long and sensual as they explored and memorized each other's bodies with every tender caress and soft kiss. The third time was raw and primal and afterwards they clung to each other, desperate in the knowledge that their time together would be over with the approaching dawn.
A loud thud and a grunted curse woke Emily from her sleep. She opened her eyes to a room softly lit by the rising sun and a nearly dressed Nick sitting on the desk chair messaging his left big toe.
"Were you going to wake me before you left?"
Nick paused in the act of slipping on his shoe. "You looked too peaceful to disturb." He finished tying his shoe under Emily's careful scrutiny, refusing to meet her eye. He wasn't sure if he could face what he knew was coming now that she was awake.
"Bullshit." She raised an eyebrow at him when he finally raised his head to meet her gaze.
"When will I see you again?" Nick decided that rather than avoid the subject of whether they could have a future, he would face it straight on. Even though he knew their careers would never afford them the luxury of a normal relationship.
Instead of answering, she pulled back the covers and got out of bed. He watched her in silence as she grabbed an oversized t-shirt from her suitcase to cover her herself.
"Emily."
"I don't know, Nick." She walked to the window and stared out, not really seeing the beautiful sunrise, promising a pleasant, sunny day. "You knew my reassignment wasn't going to be short term. This isn't just about gathering intel and getting out, and my next mission is projected to be a long-term infiltration."
His response was silence. She couldn't turn around. She couldn't face what she might see in his eyes: disappointment, anger, sadness, loss, understanding. She heard his soft movement and then Nick was behind her.
"Even after what we shared last night, you still won't let me past your walls." He didn't touch her except to softly kiss the top of her shoulder. He went into this knowing that this would be the only logical outcome. But that didn't make this morning any less difficult, or painful.
"When I told you last night that I was your partner and it was my job to protect you, that wasn't the only reason why I had trouble dealing with what happened to you." Emily closed her eyes at his words. "Yes, you were my partner, but you were also so much more than that. I loved you Em. I still do."
His warm presence at her back was suddenly gone, and once she heard the door click shut behind her, she finally let the tears fall.
Thank you for reading.
Stay tuned, more to come... including the BAU
For reference CTIC stands for the Counterterrorist Intelligence Center which is run jointly by the CIA and other foreign intelligence agencies.
