Violets in Vegas: Long Black Veil4
I hate waiting. But there was nothing else to do. We were all trapped in Todd's timetable. We knew the basic outline of it. We had a rough idea about what his objectives were. We even had an idea of a radius of his actions. But we needed to narrow it all down. And as long as Todd had gone to ground we could do nothing but wait and wait.
Moira was working. Typing on her laptop as she sat cross-legged on her bed. Phone pressed between her ear and her shoulder, head at an odd angle as she talked and typed at the same time. Files were spread in front of her across the lilac bedspread. Pages of notes, observations, technical readouts and DNA profiles. "Are you sure about that? Radiation?"
"Yes, love," Carson's voice was a Scottish dream on the other end of the line. "Each victim had a trace amount because of what that first one was doing. That's what gave me the idea of using a specific isotope to track him. It's a long shot but it's the best thing we've got so far."
"Because of the same power requirements? That could work. It could alter his cells, at least at a microscopic level. But he probably won't have enough exposure. I have a feeling he would let others do the dirty work for him. And the other thing."
"Yes. I haven't noticed anything so far, love, but I've got an eye out."
"Just be careful, Carson. We don't really know these people, and apart from Rodney I don't trust them. If the other thing is true then we have to be on our toes." She looked up suddenly to see John lounging in the doorway. His long, lean body filled the frame, slouching against one wall. His arm was raised up along it. Gaze smoldering as he assessed her. "I gotta go. See you soon." She ended the call. Set the phone aside and closed the laptop. "John?"
"Thing?"
She gathered the paper's into the folder. Motions brisk, nervous. "How's Rodney?"
"Passed out on the couch. He may be a brilliant scientist but he can't hold his liquor. Thing?"
"Evan's working at a different angle and he may be close to narrowing down a location. Has there been any word from your LVPD guys?"
"No. All's quiet on the Vegas front. Thing?" he persisted. He straightened and entered the room. Shut the door quietly behind him.
Moira shifted, placing the laptop, the files and the phone onto the table. She turned as John stood a moment, looking at her. Then he sat, laid back and quietly moaned. Tapping his shoes on the floor. She scooted to him. "John?" She ran her fingers through his hair, ruffling it. She gently massaged his temples as he closed his eyes.
"I should head out to my place for that one, baby. But I would rather spank that pert little ass blue. Thing?"
She softly kissed him. Ran her mouth delicately over his lips, his cheek, up to his brow. "It's nothing, John. So he's passed out on the couch? Good. It's just what he needed. And you."
"Me? I need to know what the thing is, Moira. I just oh." He paused as she slid down, over him. Kissing him, capturing his mouth with hers and pressing her body into his. His arms slid round her as kiss after kiss aroused, comforted, consoled. He reached up and freed her hair from the ponytail. It cascaded around them, a silky curtain of browns and reds drowning them in softness.
"John." She lifted to see his handsome face. Her fingers slid along his shirt's generous opening. "Yes, you. It was worse for you, wasn't it? I know it was worse for me."
He frowned, but replied, "yes. You have Middlegate Hills. I have Afghanistan. Same thing, somewhat. Sort of. I guess. Lost someone close to me. And several more. My fault. All of it. Not intentional, but I fucked it up real bad. Real bad." His voice was gentle, grim. He drew her mouth to his for a kiss. Rolled them so she was under him now. "I don't want to talk about it, all right. Not now. Maybe not ever. We have this. This is enough. Just this."
Moira nodded. Touched his face. Saw the pain, the guilt, the grief in those green eyes. Knew it mirrored hers but she hadn't realized how much. "Just this, John. Just this." She murmured as John ran kisses along her throat, up to nibble her earlobe. His body moving on hers in obvious sexual interest. "John? John?" she asked softly, her hands slipping under his shirt to run up his bare back. His hand slid to cup a breast as his mouth caught hers again. Again. "John? You…"
"I need this as well, baby. You. Me. Now. Before Rodney wakes up and we have to get back to saving the fucking world."
Rodney woke. A headache was pounding, pounding in an odd, persistent rhythm, until he realized it was a noise he was hearing and not just the pain in his head. He sat, wiping the drool off his chin. Snorted at his inebriation. Despite the headache he felt better. He stood, swayed a bit. Finding himself alone he looked round, curious. He wondered where the bathroom was and started to head down the hallway. Froze, hearing that rhythmic sound again.
It was gaining in momentum as something was hitting, hitting the wall. When he heard the soft sounds, the guttural exclamations he realized with a start what the sounds were. Smirking he headed back to the kitchen and got himself a drink of water. Shaking his head over it.
He searched the cabinets, found some aspirin and down the pills. Drank more water. Waiting. Waiting for the passionate activity in the bedroom to finally cease. He glanced at his watch. Smirked. He turned, hearing voices. Waited, glass in his hand. He set it down, stepped to the table as John emerged, adjusting his belt. "Bathroom?"
John met the other man's gaze. Unapologetic. "Down the hall, to the right."
"Thanks." Rodney headed there, paused. "And John, um, thanks. For you know."
"Yeah. Whatever. We leave in ten."
"Okay."
John smirked, stepping to the couch. Very aware that Rodney had probably overheard the vigorous lovemaking but not caring. He couldn't wait to tease Moira about it, though. He knew she would be abashed, flustered. Furious. He felt the anticipation building. He turned, hearing her voice as she ran into Rodney coming out of the bathroom. He waited, but it was Rodney who appeared and joined him at the couch. "Ready?"
"Yes. Moira's just coming."
"What, again?" He smirked. The men shared a laugh after an awkward moment.
"What's so funny?" Moira asked, joining them. She was glad to hear their good mood but curious. Suspicious as they wouldn't quite meet her gaze. "Well?"
"Nothing, Moira."
"John?"
"Nothing, like he said. Except, well…he said, he said you were coming."
"And?" she asked, not seeing the cause of hilarity. Both men were trying not to laugh. They exchanged a glance, a quick grin.
"And? That's all."
"Except John said you had already."
"Yeah, that. You had already so I was surprised you were coming again, especially without me."
"What? I…oh. John!" she flared, realizing.
Both men broke into unbridled laughter. A release of tension, of stress, of grief.
Moira sighed, waited as they calmed. "Men," she sighed. "Let's go! Come oh no!" she mourned, as the word triggered more hilarity. "Fine! Why don't you boys grow up? I'll be waiting in the car!" She glared, whirled and headed out of the house, ponytail flying in time to her hips.
Both men sobered. "Sorry, John," Rodney said.
"No need. She'll be fine. Besides, I like it when she's flustered and angry at the same time."
"I bet you do."
They exited the house. John made sure the door was locked. Rodney moved to his car. John stood a moment, scanning the neighborhood. Then he strolled to his car and got into the driver's seat. Moira was in the passenger seat, staring at nothing, seemingly miles away. "Moira? What's the other thing?" he asked, resuming his line of inquiry before the sex had intervened.
She glanced at him as began to drive out of the neighborhood. "There's another moll in the facility."
