Chapter 7

Stuck and cut off. Those were the only words that kept going through Lexie's mind as she sat among the ruin of her destroyed home. Her feet ground into the brick dust of what was once the retaining wall of her bedroom, the very same wall that she had cut a hole into and had hidden her Zapper as well as her Agency communications device. She suspected those two items were now pieces of scrap littering the ground with the rest of the ruins.

She turned on the torch that she had stolen from the hospital supply closest when she had escaped and searched the area. Half of the wall was still erect, though charred from the fire. To her relief it was the part of the wall that held her precious devices. When she found the hole she reached in and let out a sigh of relief as her fingers settled around the canvas material of her case. However her victory was short lived after she pulled it out and found the bag to be half burned. Its singed remains fell out of a burn hole onto the ground at her feet, the melted and badly destroyed Zapper laid useless next to its counterpart, her phone. At this point they were simply balls of melted plastic and metal. Wonderful. Her service weapon, however, seemed to have survived the fire. Though the bullets had all discharged she imagined due to the heat. So it was basically useless to her.

With little hope left she searched the area for her old mattress. She found it a half a block away piled up on the lawn of a neighbor's house with a few other remnants of the old house that were somewhat salvageable. She flipped the mattress over and stuck her hand in where she had cut a whole. This time she didn't let out a cry of relief…less she get her hopes up again…as her fingers found what they were looking for. Though she did shed a few tears as she pulled her perfectly preserved IPad and charger out of the undercarriage of the mattress. Well, she thought, she may not be able to get home, but at least she still had all of her notes on the case. That was something, wasn't it?

She stopped short on her last selfish thought as the torch light found Dawn's old mattress. Or what was left of it. As of now it was nothing more than frame work and springs. Poor Dawn. She was only 20 years old and had been engaged to her man who was off fighting the war in Africa. Dawn was gone and poor Maggie probably wouldn't make it through the night. And here she was sulking because her devices had been ruined. How could she be so self-centered? At least she was still alive.

She thought back to the last thing that the Jumper had said before he had left her. "You'll thank me for this one day." Had he known all along that her house was going to be bombed? Had he done all of that last night simply to save her life? And if so, then why, she wondered as she gathered up what was left of her devices and headed off to the Holy Trinity Church.

Moreover, if he had known that her house was going to be bombed then that meant that he had jumped from this time back to their time. There was no way to know the future unless you were in the future looking at the past. And if he had indeed jumped back home then the Agency had to have known it. The network monitored all time travel. Any disturbance would have been noted. Yet they had never told her. Why wouldn't they tell her?

Unless, of course, he had a partner, perhaps he could have someone on the other side feeding him information. Although that didn't fit the profile, the Jumper had always worked alone. In any case these were all questions that she couldn't answer tonight. Her head was still throbbing, her feet were now cut from the glass that had went through the thin slippers she had taken with her from the hospital and her body was still shaking from the adrenaline rush from her ordeal.

As quickly as she could she found the Holy Trinity Church and its old cemetery. In the third road of disorderly stones she found Fox W Mulder and searched the base for the hidden compartment. She tapped the button and the drawer slid open. Having no paper to scribble the note on she took her damaged Zapper and phone and stuck it in the compartment. Hopefully, Ms. Pierce would know exactly what it meant and contact Charlie for her. It was Lexie's only hope.

Now she just needed to find herself a place to sleep the rest of the night away that wasn't the hospital. She hated those places. There was no way she was going back there. Her main option of course was the morgue. But after last night she didn't quite feel up to facing that place just yet. Not in the middle of the night at least. It would be best to wait for day light for that.

The closest place from here would be Milner's place. The thought of his wife however, set her feet going in the opposite direction. There was really only one place left to hide out for the night. She only hoped the Overlord would welcome her sudden appearance on his doorstep. She admonished herself in her head. She really should stop calling him that after all that he had done for her today. The way he had held her when she had lost it…well…she would never forget the sense of safety those arms had offered her. Maybe that was really what set her going in his direction. She just wanted to feel safe again and not so alone.

When she finally reached his doorstep, she found, that her bravado had dissipated a few blocks back. From the slant of the moon she figured it to be around two a.m. She reasoned with herself it just wasn't acceptable to wake someone out of a sound sleep at this ungodly hour. What to do, what to do? Well, what could she do? She surmised it was only right not to wake him up but to sneak in and simply find an empty bed or couch to sleep on for the night and then sneak out before he noticed in the morning. Really it was the right thing to do- funny how one can talk themselves into the most nonsensical things at two a.m.

She walked to the back of the block and found an adjacent yard that would lead her to Foyle's back yard. She quickly found his buried Anderson shelter. Inside she found a hidey hole for her IPad and service weapon. She would retrieve them in the morning and bring them to the morgue. For now though she would need her arms free to climb the tree that would take her into the house. She tucked her torch into the waistband of her intimates. She still had on the hospital nightgown. Where else could she hide it? They were about to become intimate in a way she really never intended.

Half way up the twisted oak she prayed that the window wouldn't be locked. She also prayed that it didn't open into Foyle's bedroom. Her final and more proficient prayer, though, was that her injured and separated shoulder would hold out just a fraction longer as she leaned from the oak and onto the windowsill. It sure was a long way down if it didn't.

With a grateful sigh she pushed the window open and ungracefully pushed herself up and over the sill. She crawled through and let her body slither onto the floor like a caterpillar trying to escape a stomping foot, fast and furious. With the blackout in effect she could hardly make out that she was in a bedroom. Thankfully, it was an empty bedroom, must be Andrews she guessed. It held the stale smell of a seldom used room.

She should have simply settled into the bed right then and there, however, she was in need desperately of the facilities. She could feel a piece of glass burrowed deep into the sole of her foot and she needed to get it out. Carefully, she opened the door to the bedroom. Taking the torch out of her shorts she shined the light momentarily in the hall just to get her bearings.

Two feet to the left there was another closed door. Three feet from that on the right an open one which must have been for the loo and down the hall the darkness swallowed the light. She figured that was the top of the staircase. She shut the light off and made her way out of the room. She went to pass the closed door figuring it was Foyle's bedroom. Curiosity got the better of her and she simply had to peek in to make sure he was actually in his bed where he should be. She cracked the door open slightly. She poked her head in and gave her eyes a moment to adjust to the light. When they did they found Foyle's bed to be empty. The covers were thrown into a pile leaving a gaping hole where his sleeping body had once lain. His pajamas were strewn on the floor where he must have thrown them after dressing in a hurry. At least by the look of the half opened drawers she figured he must have been in a rush to get dressed and out the door. For Foyle would never leave this sort of disarray in his wake on purpose.

With a quick search of the rest of the house she found that Foyle was nowhere in sight. Must have gotten a call out in the middle of the night, she thought. That meant she'd have work in store for her tomorrow. Since the only thing she could think of to get Foyle out of the house at this hour was a body. She only hoped they were carefully preserving the body for her and not contaminating any evidence.

She made her way back upstairs and turned on the light. No need to worry now about being discovered. A body would keep Foyle out for most of the night, if he even came back at all. She looked at her haggard self in the mirror. Her long strawberry blonde girls were tangled around her shoulder. She hated her hair long. At home she always kept it cut short. Here, however, she had to fit in and be like all of the other women of the time. Long hair pinned up, dresses and skirts all prim and proper. A sudden feeling rushed through her. She couldn't play this game anymore without being herself. Alexa had to go and Lexie had to be resurrected. It was the only way she could survive.

She searched Foyle's medicine chest. She found his scissors half way through bottles of acid reducer and packets of aspirin. She gave Alexa one last long look in the mirror then began to hack away at the curls. They fell in long spirals into the sink basin. As each one met their demise she felt more and more like herself again.

When she was done she took another long look in the mirror. The hardness of her eyes scared even her own heart. She was almost back to her own self, but something still lacked within her. She needed something that she couldn't quite put her finger on. Something to make the feeling inside her disappear. The filth she felt whenever she thought of his hand on her. The wanted the internal cringes to go away while she stared at the mark that he had left on her neck.

She cleaned up her mess at the sink then removed the large glass shard from her foot. She wiped up the bloody mess her foot left on the floor and with still no sign of Foyle's return helped herself to a shower. When she was done she sat on the toilet and wrapped her foot in a bandage and was in the process of wrapping a towel around her naked body when Foyle himself crashed through the bathroom door wielding a police baton over his head and at her general direction.

His arm froze mid-air before he could smack her in the head with the baton as his eyes took in her naked body for the second time in less than twenty-four hours. For her movements had also froze as she held the towel across her back, her arms stretched out and fanning the towel out like the wings of a butterfly.

"What in the bloody Hell?" He exclaimed overtop of her outburst of Jesus Christ. She quickly finished wrapping the towel around herself as he continued to stare with mouth agape.

"My goodness, sir," She quickly recovered. "I didn't think you would try and take my head off for borrowing a shower." She quickly realized her wit was no match for his level of annoyance at this particular moment.

He was rattled she could tell, there was no mistaking that. Yet even rattled he could still out match her tit for tat.

"Nnno, I ummm wouldn't smash you for that. Perhaps though I will," for the first time since Lexie had known him Foyle's voice took on a form she had never heard from him before. It was loud and it echoed off the walls of the small bathroom, "for keeping me out half the night looking for you! Ssssick with worry." He came up close to her then, his free hand that didn't have the death grip on the baton raised in the air. He wasn't sure if he wanted to kiss her he was so relieved to see her or smack the stupidity out of her. Either way, he knew he couldn't do either so he simply threw the baton against the tile floor and turned out of the room and away from her before he did something he would later regret. "Christ almighty!"

Lexie stood motionless for a moment. After what felt like an eternity she followed his retreated path down the stairs. She froze midway down as she listened to the last of his phone call to the precinct informing the sergeant that he had found her and would the sergeant please pass the news on to Sam and Milner. When he went into his parlor she reluctantly followed him there where she watched from the doorway as he poured himself a glass of bourbon.

His stone silence and any avoidance of eye contact forced a stumbled apology from her.

"I didn't know. I didn't think…"

He slammed the glass down on the small table. "No, you're right, you didn't think." He came up close to her again, his advancing form forcing her to back up against the wall as he invaded her space. From what little light there was in the room she could barely make out his eyes they were cut into such sharp fine lines. "Utterly irresponsible and selfish of you. We thought…I thought that he had…taken you…" He faltered on his last words and bit his bottom lip so hard Lexie was afraid that he'd draw blood from biting back his final thought. Out of instinct she reached for him and rubbed his lips with the pad of her thumb hoping to get him to relieve some of the tension there.

"Christopher…" She whispered his given name for the first time ever. Up until this moment he had always been Foyle or Detective Chief Superintendent. His eyes snapped up hard at hers while his hand grabbed hers away from his face and pinned it against the wall. She cried out from the pain that his grip caused her raw wrist.

"Don't." He hissed. It was more of a threat than a command. And in that moment she realized just what it was that she needed in order to feel whole again. Her tight muscles grew more rigid with each panted breath he took while he continued to hold her threateningly against the wall. Urgent desire filled her as the air around them became more and more electrically charged. She needed this.

Release.

That is what she craved. She needed to lose control in order find control again. She could hear her own labored breathing mirrored his. Just a little prodding from her and she knew she could get him to relinquish his restraints. He would never do this on his own. He was too much a gentleman. And a slave to the morality he carried within him.

Truth be told that was alright with her. She needed to be in charge right now.

She wrenched the hand that he held against the wall free. For the other one was busy still clutching the towel closed around her and wound her arm around his neck. Before he could even recoil she laced her fingers into the soft curls at the base of his neck and brought his face crashing down to hers. She found his lips in the darkness and skipping several steps of their first kiss she got right down to business. She didn't need tender and sweet. She needed passion, heat, and utter abandon. She licked the outer shell of his lips open and fought her way straight into the warmth of his mouth.

To her surprise he didn't resist. Instead tongues dueled as the weeks of pent up tension that she tried so hard to ignore ignited in her belly. The fire threatened to consume her as his mouth worked illicit moans from her that generated from her very core. When they ran out of breath he broke the kiss only to lick and suckle along her neck while he whispered in her ear.

"My God, what are you doing to me?" He took the hand that wasn't wrapped into her newly shorn short curls and found her hip through the material of the towel. Then he pulled her into him so she could feel his arousal against her stomach. The feel of it set off a volcano of need in her. She wanted him…now!

"But we can't do this." His guilt filled admission almost destroyed her.

He pulled back to look into her eyes. "Iiiit's wrong." He stroked her bruised cheek. "You've been through so much. This is the last thing you need right now." Releasing her he began to back away. The passion that had just burned through Lexie was quickly becoming rage. How could he walk away from this? And why would he think she would even let him?

Lexie dropped the towel from her body. "You're right; I've been through a lot. But don't tell me what I need or what I don't need. Cause right now I only need one thing." He began to take baby steps away from her but she wasn't about to let him get away. She backed him up until he hit the edge of the sofa. "I need you to make me forget." She took his hand and placed it against her stomach. "Touch me…feel me…" She pulled his hand until it reached the soft curls between her legs, "make me yours." She pressed her naked self against him. "Make me forget his hands on me."

A strangled moaned escaped his lips. "Heaven help me." He prayed as he felt the last remaining strand of his resolve tear away. His hands and body reacted without rational thought. Soon he was encompassing her, running his hands up and down her smooth skin relishing in the fact that she was here and in his arms.

She was flesh and bone.

Safe and sound after the harrowing night he just spent searching for her once he had gotten the frantic phone call from the hospital that she had gone missing. Hours spent thinking for the third time in not a day's period that she was dead or hurt somewhere and he was powerless to help her.

Now here she was in his parlor and moaning his name as his fingers stroked her. The animal in him craved for her release by his hands. His hunger driving him mad with each gasp and moan she made as he readied her body for his attack.

For this was not love making in any sense of the word. It was gritty, hard and brutal. Lust, heat and desire burned in a rage of fire as their bodies and minds fought for dominance over the other. She would push and he would pull, yet always mindful of her wounds and careful not to hurt her further. She licked and bit his skin and when it became too much he turned her around and pushed her stomach against the edge of the back of the couch trying to stop her incessant grinding that threatened to end it before it began.

Holding her steady with a bracing hand to the center of her back he used his other to free himself of his trousers and shorts. Once he had kicked them off he bent her over the back of the sofa while nudging her legs apart. Part of him admonishing himself for taking her this way, for he knew it was wrong. He had never in his life treated a woman this way. Even knowing this, he still couldn't stop himself. If he didn't have her now the fire in is belly threatened to burst into an inferno that would destroy him from the inside out.

Without permission and giving her no warning he buried himself deep within her. His load moan of pleasure almost drowned out her sharp cry of pain.

Almost.

"Sorry." He apologized into her ear. "I thought you were ready." He leaned down low and rested against her back not moving and gave her a chance to acclimate to his invasion.

"It's okay." She tried to make it sound light but he could hear the discomfort in her voice. He began to ease out of her but she was having none of that and thrust against him. The sensation made them both cry out to God. "It's been a while and I think you're a little bigger than…" She didn't want to say her late husband's name as another man took his place inside of her for the first time.

Just didn't seem right.

No, she told herself. This wasn't like her and James at all. No comparison, she reasoned. She and James made love. This wasn't making love. It was just filling a need for release and nothing more. She thrust against Foyle twice more to make sure he was on the same page as her. This was NOT making love and he needed to understand that. Tomorrow life would go on as usual. Like this never happened.

Foyle braced her against the couch again stopping her from setting the rhythm.

"It's been much longer for me, I can guarantee you that. If you keep that up it'll be over far too soon." He slid his hands lovingly along the lines of her back while he set a new and much slower rhythm. "Slow down." His care for her well being showed with every careful thrust he made. She could feel it all the way up and into her heart. Tears began to well up in her eyes.

This is NOT what she wanted. How did they go from reckless abandon to tender and sweet so fast? And why was her body beginning to hum from the effects he was having on her? It was more than sex now, it was connection. And it scared her more than last night's events. She had to stop this now.

She tried to force him to go faster again. And yet again he stopped her from taking control. This time though he stood her up straight so that her backside rested against the front of him while he still remained inside of her. Then he locked his arms around her front and caressed her breasts in a methodical fashion that threatened to send her over the edge. From this vantage point she couldn't move a muscle. He was in complete control.

While he rocked her up and over the edge to sweet release he held her tight and whispered words of encouragement in her ear while he suckled on the outer lobe.

"Come for me." He begged increasing the rhythm every time he felt her body tighten. "I've got you."

Still she held back. It was too personal. This definitely wasn't the release she was looking for. "Not like this." She begged. "I can't."

With one hand he turned her head and found her lips while his other hand traveled back down. Skimming tenderly past her stitches, forever mindful of every wound her body had received yesterday; he found her little bundle of nerves that he knew would send her over the edge with him. Lovingly he stroked her there and kissed her mouth, swallowing her cries as she finally gave in to him and let her body fall over the edge.

When he couldn't hold out any longer he pushed her back down against the couch. Without restraint he slammed mercilessly into her broken body. To his selfish delight he brought her back to oblivion. Together they flew over the final cliff.

He wondered, as he rested against her slacken back, what would happen once they reached the bottom of the cliff.

Thanks to Alexa he didn't have to ponder for very long. She stood up, basically pushing him off of her. He graciously backed away allowing her the room she needed to find her lost towel. She picked it up off of the floor and wrapped it back around her body.

He was still in his shirt. He pulled the material lower so that it covered him. At least his modesty hadn't been lost yet.

Without making eye contact with him she began, "This didn't mean anything. I hope you know that." She turned and angled herself towards the opening of the hall that led to his stairs, "It was just a means to an end."

"Rrrright." It was the only reply he could think of.

He watched her retreating form head up his stairs.

Bloody hell. What had he done?

A/N notes…I hope you like it. I tried to keep it more on a pg-13 level. I don't know if I succeeded or not. I'm not going to change it to mature though. I grappled over the idea of having them come together so early in the story. I could have built the tension up some more, but I think by having them have this hang between them it will add to the tension in a better way. At least I hope. Plus it works into the story line better and will bring Foyle into the Jumpers bad graces. I'm thinking he's not going to like this new connection between Foyle and Alexa very much. Any way let me know what you think. Even if you hated it, don't hesitate to tell me you think I just spoiled the story. I'm actually beginning to worry myself if I jumped the gun a little.