9 Crimes

When he kissed Lily, the last thing he'd expected to see was Ana's face.

He hadn't thought of her for days now, his mind only focused on surviving. But there was something about this agent that reminded him of that woman he'd probably lost by now. Possibly the only time he'd loved someone.

Lily's mouth looked for his hungrily. He was more than happy to deliver. He quickly got rid of his suit and hers, as his hands touched her in places she didn't even know existed.

His body ached. He felt light-headed. His skin was burning, but he couldn't stop now. He just… couldn't.

"Ana?" A man had opened the door of her dressing room. "You ready, babe? We're waitin' for you."

The woman met his gaze through the mirror as she finished fixing her long, black hair in an updo. "Yeah, I'm ready."

"Good girl," the man said. "Welcome back, honey. We missed you. This is where you belong."

She smiled. "I know, Jack. I'll be out in a minute."

The man closed the door, giving her the time she needed to put a smile on her red lips. She looked at herself in the mirror. Her lips wouldn't quiver that day. She wouldn't fail.

Just as she was going out, her eyes landed on a photograph, pinned to the cork board where she used to post all the little things that she found inspirational. The corners of the picture were a bit bent by now. Their first photograph together. He looked so young. She caressed the image with her fingertips. "Mr. Gray…" Ana whispered. The last year they'd been together, he'd told her not to call him like that anymore. He had changed.

She ripped the photograph out of the board and threw it into the trash can. With strong, confident steps, she walked over to where the band was waiting for her, climbed the three steps onto the stage, and stood over the small X sign marked on the floor, in front of the mic.

The spotlight landed on her, and the audience applauded. She smiled for the people. The drums started the rhythm, and the show began.

"I er… I w-was wondering if… If you'd… let me buy you a drink," the young man stuttered.

She turned to him. "I already have a drink," she smiled at him, pointing to her glass.

"O-Of course," he said, blushing slightly. She'd seen him before. Several times, in fact. He'd come every night she'd been there for the past month. He always sat at the back, on the right side. Ana had thought he looked handsome from the stage, but now that he was there, standing in front of her, she couldn't help but notice how incredibly good-looking he was. His clean-shaven face revealed the most delicious jawline she'd ever seen, masculine and delicate at the same time. His head was crowned by honey-coloured curls, and even though she usually preferred her men to be dark-haired, she had to admit that everything in this man looked harmonious and attractive. He was wearing a white shirt and grey pants, and he was holding a grey jacket. "I'm sorry if I bothered you," he said quickly, and turned around to leave.

She dropped her drink, and the sound of shattering glass caused him to look back.

"Well, what do you know," she said. "I don't have a drink anymore. Isn't that a shame?" Ana shrugged and pouted comically. A slow smile appeared on his face. He took a few steps towards the bar and ordered two drinks. He followed her to a secluded table and she extended her hand.

"Ana. But you probably knew that."

He shook her hand, his fingers lingering on for one or two seconds more than it was appropriate. "Cullen. Grayson Cullen."

Ana smiled. "So, Mr. Gray – what brings you here?"

He fixed his eyes on her face and that slow, sweet smile reappeared on his lips. "You."

Lily sat astride his lap. She knew that it was not the right time or place to do that, but she needed it badly. She needed to feel alive. Cullen seemed to feel the same way. Through the haze of his fever, he knew, he just knew that what he was doing was wrong. He felt Lily's flesh tightening around him and he groaned.

"Gray-Grayson," Lily moaned.

His name on another woman's lips. He closed his eyes.

They'd been dating for some time, and yet, he hadn't made a move. Ana was getting impatient. She liked it when men were all gentlemanly towards her, but she wanted Cullen to go straight to the point - especially when she had tried to make him see that she was ready to take their relationship to the next level.

He was walking her home, their fingers intertwined. As they got to the front door, he leaned in to kiss her goodnight, but she threw her arms around him. Her lips met his with unrestrained passion and desire. He gently put her arms around her waist and caressed her back slowly but intensely. Her body reacted to his touch and her tongue looked for his. Her hands stroked his chest. She could feel his body tensing up. Through the thin fabric of his shirt, she could feel his marked stomach and his strong back. He pressed her against him and her eyes shot open when she felt his manhood, growing against her – no, because of her.

"Gray, I swear," she groaned. "If you don't come up with me tonight, I'll kill you."

He nuzzled and kissed her gently. "Are you sure you want this?"

"Grayson!"

Cullen smiled and let go of her. "Open the door, then. I'm right behind you."

As her fingers fumbled for the keys, he stood behind her, his hips slightly touching her buttocks. His fingers moved her long hair aside and he slowly kissed and nibbled on her exposed neck. She shivered and dropped her keys. He bent down to get them, his fingers sliding up her body as he presented her with the item. She quickly opened the door and pulled him in.

After a while, it became evident to her that she wasn't his first one. His hands moved over her body with a skill that left her breathless. His fingers untied the laces of her dress, which fell onto the floor and was forgotten there, as he picked her up and she wrapped her legs around him.

"Show me the way," he whispered. She pointed towards a room and resumed her kissing, as he led her to the bedroom. He left her on the bed and pulled away.

"Where are you going?" Her voice sounded strained with desire. He shushed her with a kiss, his tongue softly sliding down her body, his hands on her breasts, teasing them over her black lace bra. His lips kissed their way down her stomach and she moaned as she passed her fingers through his hair. He was nibbling and licking his way down, and when he went past the navel, his hands parted her legs gently. As he removed her panties, she looked at him and saw him smile mischievously. In a minute or two, her back was arched, her hips were pushed against his mouth, and her whole body was quivering.

"Gray…" she moaned, before she closed her eyes and lost herself in the act of ecstasy he was putting up for her.

Cullen's thumbs rubbed against Lily's breasts, teasing her. This woman was climaxing on top of him, and his mind couldn't understand why he was doing that. He needed to feel her, to feel himself. He needed to know that there was still life for him.

He felt his body shaking. He was close to finding his release. He pulled Lily away from his lap and pinned her onto the cot beside him. He didn't want to finish inside her, but some sense of gallantry awoke in him in spite of his semi-delirious state, and he moved his hand between her legs, to finish off what he'd started.

"So? What do you think?" Cullen asked her. They were looking out of the window of his apartment on the 25th floor . Kirkwall looked like a giant ant colony from up there.

"It's… It's quite nice," she said, "but can you afford it? After all, Hightown is the most expensive area here."

"Brigadier Stannard says that it's also the most convenient for getting to the Gallows more quickly. The money I got for my promotion should be fine. And I'd like you to move in with me. What do you say?"

Ana was stunned. "Well, I'd love that! But it would be quite far away from the jazz club…"

Cullen kissed her forehead. "You don't need that job. In fact, you don't need to work at all."

She pulled away from him. "But… I love my job."

"And you're great at it, I know. But let's face it, the money you make barely pays for the bills, and you don't live in the safest area. Brigadier Stannard always tells us that we've got to be practical about those things. 'Practicality over sentiment'. It's a nice motto to live by, don't you think?"

"No," Ana said. "There's more in life than practicality. There's passion. There's-"

"Well, I think it certainly worked for her. Look at where she is," he said, a bit annoyed. He looked at her. She was standing there, motionless. He sighed. "Let's not fight again, Ana. You said you were happy for me when I got this job."

"I know," she said, hugging him. "You've worked hard for this. I'm proud of you, Mr. Gray." Ana smiled at him and let him cuddle her.

It's a small crime, and I've got no excuse…

Is that alright with you…?

Her voice quivered a bit towards the end. Not now, she thought. She would make it through. She always did.

Is that alright with you?

Was it? Was it alright? She remembered those years by his side, building up something that had been so beautiful until he'd got that job. But he had changed. That woman had changed him. The new position had changed him. He was no longer the stuttery boy, the carefree lover…

Is that alright with you…?

The phone had started ringing at odd times. In the middle of the night, while they were having breakfast, when they were making love, as they showered together. And he no longer let it ring endlessly. The Brigadier needed him for different missions, little things that would take him away for some days, missing important dates for the two of them – dates that now seemed to matter to her alone.

No…

The piano faded out slowly, and she bowed. The applause was overwhelming. She smiled and waved, as usual, and she returned to the dressing room.

He'd received the phone call at midnight. He was going on a secret mission again, this time for about a month. The Brigadier needed him to travel with her one week before the scheduled date. He'd depart the following morning. Ana hadn't been able to sleep well after the phone call. She'd seen his face in dreams, and he was in pain, alone, trapped…

"Please, don't go," she begged him the following morning. "I've got a bad feeling about this."

He sighed. "Lately you've been having lots of bad feelings about everything I do. I'm not sleeping with the Brigadier, if that's what's bothering you…"

"It's not that," Ana frowned. "I… Can't you just say 'no'? This time?"

"No, I can't say 'no'," Cullen shook his head. "I thought you were proud of me. We're on the verge of something huge here. If everything goes right, we'll go down in history, Ana."

"And what if it doesn't? What if it doesn't go right?"

Cullen stared at her angrily. "Stop talking like that. It's almost as if you wished I failed."

"No. No!" She tried to hold back the tears. "But this job… It's taken over your life. It's taking over us, Gray…"

"This is what I've trained for, all my life," he said, matter-of-factly. "My job's all that matters right now." He picked up his bag and walked out of the bedroom, into the living-room.

Ana went silent. She clenched her fists. Enough is enough, she thought. "Grayson," she called after him. He looked at her over his shoulder.

"If you leave now, I won't be here when you return. If you return."

He left his bag on the floor and turned to look at her. Her heart beat faster.

"Don't be silly," he smirked. His mobile phone rang, letting him know that the car was downstairs, waiting for him. He walked over to where she was standing and kissed her. She didn't kiss him back. He shrugged, turned around, picked up his bag, and left the apartment.

He woke up some time later. Lily was lying beside him. She'd fallen asleep. The fever seemed to have gone, and now the guilt was sinking in. He'd lied to himself when he'd pretended to have forgotten about her. She was there with him, always.

He hid his face in his hands. He closed his eyes and saw her face, her beautiful fair-skinned face framed by her long, black hair on the cold pillows of his bed. He remembered the nights they'd spent together at her place, when their lovemaking lasted all night long, their bodies aching with desire and need. He remembered her small, delicate hands fluttering over his skin, as if she was his butterfly. He remembered her smell, and her warm breath, as her mouth took him to places he'd never known before. He remembered her love, and her tenderness, and her smile; red lips on her fair-skinned face.

What have I done, he cried silently. I'm so sorry, Ana.

I'm so sorry, my love.

She zipped down her dress. She missed his hands over her, his arms around her, his fingers on her back. Two months. She'd called the Department where he worked, but nobody had told her anything. She thought that perhaps, he'd asked them not to tell her anything. She shook her head and sighed as she put on her street clothes. She did up her coat and took her bag. As she was going out of the dressing room, she saw the photograph on the trash can. She stared at it silently for a while, and then, with gentle fingers, she took it. She looked at it. She remembered that day. He'd bought his first car, and he'd been unusually excited about it when they'd taken it for a test drive. That had been the day when she'd realized that she loved him.

She held the photograph against her chest and closed her eyes. Perhaps she'd been too hasty. Perhaps he'd been too proud. She'd pay a visit to the Gallows the following day and ask after him.

Perhaps they'd be able to sit down and talk about what they'd had… Perhaps there still was some sort of future for them.

When he returned, perhaps.

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~ This one-shot is dedicated to my dear AnaOakenshield, whose love for Cullen probably rivals my love for Anders. Thank you for beta-ing, Ana, and thanks for a wonderful summer full of giggling, shaking fists, sobbing, and bitching. Because BPO.

Title: a song by Damien Rice. The lyrics are very simple, but the music is quite powerful, so listen to it if you've got the chance. The following is a short version of the lyrics:

Leave me out with the waste: this is not what I do
It's the wrong kind of place to be thinking of you
It's the wrong time for somebody new
It's a small crime, and I've got no excuse

Is that alright with you? Give my gun away when it's loaded
Is that alright? If you don't shoot it, how am I supposed to hold it?
Is that alright? Give my gun away when it's loaded
Is that alright with you?

Leave me out with the waste, this is not what I do
It's the wrong kind of place to be cheating on you
It's the wrong time, she's pulling me through
It's a small crime and I've got no excuse

And is that alright? Yeah. I give my gun away when it's loaded
Is that alright? If you don't shoot it, how am I supposed to hold it?
Is that alright? I give my gun away when it's loaded
Is that alright, is that alright with you?

Is that alright?
Is that alright?
Is that alright with you?
No...