TITLE: First Choices

AUTHOR: Clairisant and Brenda

CLASSIFICATION: Porter/Neville Webb

FEEDBACK: Would love to hear both good and bad feedback but please try to be kind and constructive. and

AUTHORS NOTE: This story is our version of how Clay's parents met, fell in love and married.

CREDITS: A special thanks to our beta readers, Qupeydoll, Suzanne, and Julie.

Chapter 1

Saturday, February 3, 1961

2330 EST

NSA sub-basement

Langley, Virginia

Porter Winston was working in the sub-basement of NSA headquarters in Langley, Virginia late one Saturday night when a handsome young man came rushing into the room searching it for any occupant. With a relived sigh he hurried over to her desk. Shoving the paper in his hand between her face and the typewriter she was working on, he said, "I need this translated at once!"

She looked up to see a man in formal wear, complete with tails, and said, "I'm really busy right now, I'll get to it when I can."

"You don't seem to understand how important this is!" he replied.

"And I wouldn't be here at this time on a Saturday night, if I wasn't doing something important too! You'll just have to wait," she said to him.

"I went to a lot of trouble to steal this document from the Russian Embassy…and I need it translated now …" he was interrupted.

"Don't you know stealing is illegal?" she asked with a sweet little smile.

"Lives could depend upon how fast I get this translated!" he tried a new tact.

Reaching into her desk and taking out a pad of paper, a number two pencil, and a Russian/English Dictionary, she handed them to him she saying, "Then you'd better get started."

"Listen, I'll buy you a dinner like you've never had before…at the exclusive Willard Hotel's Skylight Restaurant," he offered desperately, assuming she was an average working girl that would be impressed by such an offer.

"Has Chef Roscoe added something new to the menu?" she asked with an almost angry gleam in her eyes.

"You've eaten there before?" he asked with surprise.

"A few times, my family has a reserved table there," she replied.

"If you're family is that well to do, then why are you working here, and at this time of the night?" he asked.

"I could ask you the same thing, but I just don't care," said Porter.

"That's not what I meant! What's a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?" asked Neville.

She looked up at him with an angry glare, this time and said, "Haven't you heard? There's a war going on!"

"I know, and that's why it's so important that I get this message translated! It's dealing with whether Russia is going to get involved in this war!"

"Well why didn't you say so?" she asked taking the message from his hands.

"I've been trying to tell you it was important for the last ten minutes," Neville said, pulling up a chair and sitting down.

"Shssh! Shssh! Shssh! If you keep talking I won't be about to concentrate," said Porter.

"Alright, I'll sit here and admire your beauty."

"I'm doing what you wanted, you can stop with the compliments," growled Porter.

"Well excuse me!"

"I said…Shssh!"

"Alright!"

Turning to him she placed her index finger over his lips and said, "Let me teach you just a little Russian. Aamorn…now repeat that after me," she directed him.

"Aamorn," he replied. "Now what does that mean?"

Porter took the number two pencil and pad she had handed him before and wrote in all caps 'SHUT UP,' then handed it to him and went back to her translating.

With his face turning red, he asked, "How long will it take you to finish translating my message?"

Turning an evil glare at him, she said, "It all depends on how many unnecessary interruptions I have."

Seeing he was getting nowhere, he jumped up from his chair and started pacing nervously in front of her desk.

"Octahobka, tot!"

Stopping in his tracks he asked, "Did you just curse at me?"

"No, I told you to stop pacing," replied Porter.

With a sigh he walked over and took his seat. Ten minutes later, she handed him a sheet of paper with his entire document translated. "This is great, I can't thank you enough! How about having dinner with me next Saturday night by the way of me saying thank you?"

"No, I don't think so, I don't go out with men I don't know," she replied.

"Your lips say no, no, no, but your eyes say yes, yes, yes," he grinned.

"And just what to you think I'm saying 'yes' to?" Porter asked.

"Will he kiss me?" responded Neville thereby leaning over and planning a kiss upon her startled lips.

To be continued…..