I'm posting twice today because it's likely that I won't post again until Sunday or Monday... sorry all. Busy weekend. Definitely a lot of missed MK in this chapter. And I mean a lot. Pretty much the whole thing. Actually, the whole thing. :)
Enjoy and please review.
Chapter Ten
The candlelit canopy sheltered them from the thunderous reaction of waves to sand. But in Mike's mind, the breathtaking scenery to the west was nothing compared to what was inside the tent. He had booked the most secluded spot possible for a very private romantic dining experience. The only other person they would see all night would be the waiter.
Kate had been unsure about leaving the comfort and safety of the hotel, and she'd remain so until the official they were due to meet tomorrow morning put her mind at ease—or told her that she was absolutely right to be concerned. And so, Mike threw out his suggestion that they head into Kuta for a night on the town. After all if he wanted to foot an expensive bill, they could definitely do it in the hotel. With an assortment of restaurants, cafes and bars, the only hard decision was choosing what type of food to order.
At first, Kate was almost taken away by the awe-inspiring spectacle. A deserving dinner on the beach in complete serenity and privacy—she was glad that she convinced Mike to stay in. And she'd hoped that the heat and humidity would lessen as night took over. That was not the case, and the white cotton dress that usually hung loosely around her thin frame was hopelessly sticky. One thing the tent didn't have was air conditioning.
Mike appeared just as uncomfortable in his jeans, which may have shrunk since she last saw them, and light blue long-sleeve shirt. But his smile didn't vocalize any objections to the weather or the outdoors.
"So, what do you think? I do good?"
Kate shook her head playfully at him, her lips curled into an unwanted smile. "You did very good."
His gorgeous grin would not let up. "Shame about the heat."
"It's called the tropics, Mike, but it's not like we already live there." Sarcasm… because arguing with stupid people isn't nearly as fun.
He returned an amused glare and she shifted uncomfortably in her chair.
"Sticky?" he asked with a smile.
It was her turn to look unimpressed at the remark.
"Might need help to get out of that dress later," he commented suggestively. His eyes spoke volumes more and his lips curled in a fashion she knew very well.
"No."
"No?"
Kate shook her head. "No. Because we are working."
"Not until tomorrow morning, technically," Mike vied.
"No," she repeated.
"Okay." Mike threw his arms up in defeat and went back to his dinner. He'd ordered a scrumptious assortment of seafood, including lobster, with expensive champagne to boot and knew that he'd just spent a week's wage in one night, but he planned to make it special. Thankfully, she didn't argue when dinner was requested.
"Okay? It's not like you to give up that easily," she said suspiciously. "Come on, out with it. What do you have planned?"
"Nothing," he replied quickly. He wasn't even to trying to hide his lie—this was fun.
"Don't give me that. I know you better than that. You don't operate without a plan, so what is it?"
He was still smiling and it was starting to annoy her. Enough with the playful games, the voice inside her head shouted. Tell me!
"What makes you think I have an agenda?"
"Mike Flynn without a plan? That would be anarchy."
He shook his head again. "No plan. Just dinner. With you."
Kate let him have this one. He was harder to interrogate than a hundred-year-old Galapagos Tortoise. "Did Saunders say how we were getting to Jakarta in the morning?"
"Helicopter, I think," Mike replied. "I actually landed in Jakarta and was transported to Denpasar in an Indonesian Army Mil Mi-17."
A comfortable pause ensued as they finished off what was left of the seafood platter. Mike reached for the champagne and poured her another glass before touching up his.
"We are to wear civvies tomorrow?" Kate clarified.
"Yeah, Saunders thinks we shouldn't paint a target on to our foreheads."
"Fair enough."
"Speaking of which," Mike continued, "Maxine let me know that we'd be in civvies, so I grabbed some of your civilian business attire before I left."
"H… How?" Kate was perplexed and a little puzzled. Her face showed it. "You broke into my house?"
"No," he replied, smiling again. "I forgot to lock the back door when we left for NAVCOM the other day. Turns out it was a good thing, though."
She was just shaking her head, laughing internally at her misfortune and his luck.
He was reaching into his pocket now, and for the life of her, she couldn't figure out why. Phone call? She'd have heard it ring. Special gift? In his pocket? She hoped not.
"I had this made for you," he said, pulling the unwelcome item from his pocket.
Made? Kate wondered. What on Earth could it be?
It was a key. She was being keyed. Four weeks into this relationship and she was being keyed.
"Just in case this happens again and you happen to require entrance into my place," he said as he handed it over.
She grabbed it, unsure of what to do with it. Did she attach it to her set of keys? Logic dictated yes. Her light fear of such a dense commitment said no. It was one thing for them to commit to a relationship, but she'd lived alone (whenever on shore leave) for seventeen years.
"I guess I should give you a copy of my house keys when we get home." She said this slowly and unsurely. "This was your plan?"
"No." His was still defending his disposition with dignity.
"Alright, fine." Defeat was making its way around the table, it seemed. They finished off the champagne and she rose from her chair first.
"Where are you going?" Mike asked, a little downtrodden.
"A walk. To wear off everything I just ate. Would you like to come?"
He smiled and followed her, knowing the cheque was going to the hotel room anyway. "By the way, you look very nice tonight."
His bashful tone made her laugh. "Thanks for noticing." Her hand slipped into his as they walked towards the moonlit beach. She was holding on a little stronger than usual and he registered it. However much fun she made of his key and denied his suggestions of the bedroom, he knew there was nowhere else she'd rather be than right there with him.
"Do you get a bad feeling about this?" Kate asked after a few minutes.
"This?"
"This operation," she clarified.
"A naval officer missing, possibly at the hands of dangerous terrorists and an extreme risk to our national security… well, yeah, Kate. Of course, I'm concerned."
"Something might happen. We may be powerless to stop it."
"Yes."
She stopped and stepped in front of him. His eyes were placid, concealing and inescapably calm. She took comfort in his arms as they securely surrounded her and threatened never to let go. They would, eventually, but for now Kate was content with his touch.
"I'm worried about us. And about the crew," she spoke into his chest.
"I know. So am I."
She pushed off his chest quickly and stepped away, towards the water. She was going to take her anger and frustration out on something and it wasn't going to be him. "We don't know enough about anything to do anything."
"We have to trust that those with the ability to do something, will do something," Mike told her gently. "And they will. They're not going to let this happen again."
She turned around and stared at him. "I hope you're right. I don't want this to go down while we're here. We have a chance to stop it."
"That feeling of helplessness is really the worst thing we have to face," he said with some optimism. "We can get through it."
"How can you say that?"
He shrugged. "It's just a feeling. But when I was on that boat last month, and in that sub, I gave up. I resigned myself to death, and I never want to feel that way again. So I choose to believe that we can and will make a difference. All we need to do is be patient."
"You're one of a kind, Mike Flynn," she told him and walked back into his waiting arms. "And I hope that I never lose you."
He didn't reply. A smiling kiss made its way to her forehead. "Come on. I'll walk you back to your room."
She wasn't sure of what to expect when they arrived, but he remained in the doorway as she unlocked her door. Walking into her room and feeling very alone, she turned and glanced at him. Inside her mind, another battle of wills was waging. A foreign port, a foreign hotel room, a foreign mission; she hadn't felt quite this alone before.
"Are you going to stand there or are you coming in?" she requested finally.
He looked at her, bemused. "I thought you said-"
"I know what I said. This is what I'm saying now."
He didn't hesitate. The door shut behind him and he hungrily launched himself in her direction. His lips covered hers within a matter of seconds and all of the frustrations they felt were released in a tandem experience. His hands, enthusiastically attentive as they were, eventually made their way down her back to her buttocks. He hoisted her into his arms and pushed her against the wall.
Kate was trying to remember who was next door. Those thoughts were soon forgotten as her head made contact with the plasterboard and his lips sunk from her jaw line to along her neck. His short was disposed of in a matter in moments and her cotton dress was the next to follow.
"Mike…" Her tone pleaded, begged for something other than the reality they were living in right now. It beseeched a world where nothing but two of them, in all their passion and love and infectious need, existed.
Her hands were fiddling with his belt and, later, his jeans. He still had her back pressed to the wall with the possessive traits of a Neanderthal, as his lips caressed the soft skin along the white lace stitching of her bra. And after minutes, and what seemed like an eternity to Kate, of torture, a pleasant and painful juxtaposition, his hands dipped behind her and removed the offending material.
Their deep-running and moving passion for each other, a harboured feeling that had been shrouded for far too long, had exploded in the last month. And each time they were on shore together, alone and intimately placed, no homely surface was immune to their heated reunions.