Alicia raised her head, eyes lifting from the screen of Birkhoff's primary computer. He'd left only an hour ago to start his classes; the recruits weren't going to train themselves. After being granted access to the computer she had been left alone in his lair of sorts. Seymour had to change the security clearance before leaving and so, while she had the unrestricteduse of internet, she couldn't access the Division servers. Only after settling down in the computer chair did she realize there was nothing for her online. Other than talking to Birkhoff there was little she used a computer for; apart from Division related research of course. In the meantime she had nothing to do.
Judging from the constant dull throb of her ribcage she doubted she'd be reactivated anytime soon. The same injury that had her quarantined to Division and suspended from work also eliminated the option of working out. She lived a structured life; following the same routine as when she'd been a recruit. The only deviation she made was to read books or watch re-runs of Adam West's Batman series on TV. She never thought she'd see the day where she'd turn down Batman, but apparently it had come.
There has to be something for me to do Alicia couldn't help but sigh as she shook a pill free from its container. Though Birkhoff had offered her the use of his mini fridge, and snack chest for that matter, she wasn't in the mood for an energy drink. The last thing she needed was more energy. Already she was bursting at the seams with the need to occupy the time she had on her hands. So instead she swallowed the pill without the aid of a beverage. Any minute now the medication would kick in and she'd once more be pain free. Not that it helped her current situation any.
Her eyes flickered to the door, silently willing a distraction to come her way. Barely a second passed before the door swung open as if in answer to her prayers. She took in the dark suit of the lean man who let himself in without any warning. With a few strides of his legs, Michael was past the threshold and standing at the top step, his green eyes finding hers as he crossed his arms and peered down at her.
"In the middle of something?' he asked coolly, allowing his eyes to take in the computer set up she sat behind. When he had heard that she was staying in Birkhoff's office, or whatever he was referring to it as these days, he had prayed it was just a rumor. All it took was one stop into Percy's office to get the unfortunate truth; she was indeed posing as Birkhoff's guest.
Alicia smiled softly, giving a little shake of her head as she folded her hands together in her lap as if to show she had no intentions of using the keyboard. "Not at all, did you have something for me to do?" she sounded hopeful.
Michael wasn't fooled, his eyes narrowing in on her. If she thought he couldn't see that something was up then she was sorely mistaken. Seymour may not have been his favorite person in the world, but he was still a decent enough companion. They'd been a team, along with Nikita, for years and in that time he'd developed a bit of a soft spot for the cynical nerd. "You're presence has been requested in Operations," he answered slowly, lip twitching up in the faintest hint of dislike.
"I thought I'd been taken off active duty," Alicia commented with curiosity, rising from the chair nonetheless.
"You're the only one available with firsthand knowledge on the target," Michael hid the sneer that tempted to break through his control. The young woman was good at her job and a faithful agent; he respected that. But try as he might to keep things professional the familiar tug of personal issues got in the way. He'd been happy, albeit worried, to see how positively she'd affected Birkhoff's mood ever since she'd been Activated. Now the very thing that had once seemed an unexpected bonus had him irritated to the point of suspicion.
Sensing there was more to it than that; Alicia decided to hold her questions. Her superior's attitude didn't come as a surprise to her. It had only been a few weeks ago that he'd had a little chat with her down in sub-level 12 about Seymour. She only wished that she could explain to him that his friend wasn't in any danger. The problem with that was it wasn't entirely true; if anyone discovered their relationship he would be in trouble. It was a truth she'd come to accept and had only moved past after reminding herself that she'd get it worse than he would. Birkhoff wasn't expandable, not like she was.
She paused to slip out of Birkhoff's sweatshirt, unzipping the thick hoodie to set it aside on the couch. While Amanda had a guard deliver some clothes to her, the lab was kept cold for all of the computers constantly running and she'd needed the extra layer of protection. Ignoring the narrowing of Michael's eyes Alicia crossed the floor to start up the stairs. The way he stood at the top, just a few steps up, reminded Alicia of the first thought she'd had upon setting foot in Birkhoff's Lair. This room was built for observation the words echoed through her mind as she gave the room one last sweep of her eyes. The raised entrance to the door, the platform that canvassed a good twenty feet with metal railings that forced you to the stairs- it all sent a chill down her spine.
Watching the heavy door close behind them, Alicia tried not to worry about how easy it would be to be confined not just to Division but a single room. Footsteps in tune with Michael's she followed him towards the direction of the Command Center. As many questions that were buzzing in her head she didn't dare to ask any of them. It wasn't that Michael scared her; that would have been preposterous. Instead it was the combined worry of being overheard by the recruits they passed by along with the risk of being perceived as unwilling. One could argue in her current injured, and finally medicated, state that work was the last thing she should be doing.
Smiling at the lightness coursing through her veins she silently thanked Division's medical team. After her upbringing Alicia had always avoided anything that was in pill form, along with any and all drugs. Addiction was heavy in her family; at least she'd deduced that much from the three relatives she'd known. Her father died of a drug overdose, her mother died much the same way and her drug-pushing uncle met the end he deserved. While she'd been hesitant to accept the blue prescription bottle at first, now she was thankful.
Other than the bruising on her face there was no indication of the damage hidden beneath her clothes. Had she known she would be leaving the seclusion of Birkhoff's office then she would have covered up the dark green and purple on her face with a layer of makeup. It was too late for that now, and the glances sent her way as she came to a stop in Operations were staring to make her skin prickle. By all means she was used to the attention; being Amanda'sPet had given her a reputation that made her gossip central. Every time she found herself back in Division preparing for an Op rumors would find their way to her. Half of them were laughable and the others barely worth an eye roll.
She wondered what they would talk about at the end of her day. What was juicier; that the whole of Division was under the belief that Samson and herself had intentionally gotten caught for the sake of a mission, or that she was back in action her first day after being released from medical observation. Why am I here? she wondered what she was sure the techies who had noticed her enter were as well.
Clint could feel the level of activity in the room increase as well as hear the typing of keys pick up pace. It was an occurrence that came with the entrance of any number of the higher ups who would stop in. Usually they brought work with them, which was his reason for initially focusing on his screen and trying to avoid making eye contact. However, once he heard Alicia's voice his fingers slowed on their own as he tuned his ears in on the conversation that had started behind him.
"Which target do I have Intel on?"
"You encountered him on one of your missions," it was Michael who replied to her question, "but he wasn't your primary."
"Samson would be better informed-"
"Samson in on the field," the Head Agent cut her short, "and didn't interact with him on a personal level."
Clint couldn't help but flash a glance over to the pair the moment he finished his routine security update. With nothing else lined up he had the rare opportunity to listen in without his work suffering as a result. It seemed like ever since Alicia had first spoken to him all those months ago he'd been unable to escape her. If she wasn't in Operations in person then it was her voice over the com or better yet- her image on his screen. Amanda had tasked him with keeping an eye on her pet. He hated that term along with all of the secrecy that surrounded it. He often wondered what would have happened if fate hadn't seen fit to make him the techie behind the computer during her after-hours romp.
For some reason unbeknownst to him Alicia was different from every other Division Agent's he'd ever laid eyes on. When he watched her work he felt as though life was a movie. On his monitor she had seduced some of the world's most dangerous men with skills that would make the most famous actress green with envy. Every character she played, every cover she took on, she devoted herself entirely. Yet when he'd seen the young woman with Seymour Birkhoff, suddenly reality made less sense than fantasy.
It wouldn't have surprised him if he was only dreaming when the very pair he was trying to eavesdrop on decided to stop just a foot from where he sat. "What Mission is the target from?" Alicia was oblivious to the cool blue eyes that lifted to her face.
"You remember Operation Fair Trade?" Michael's question was met with a gentle nod. "After eliminating Dìaz's money man we picked up on some chatter; he was using his resources in an attempt to investigate Camille," he referred to a role that Clint remembered well, "believing her to be involved in his loss. However, before he could prove anything, there was a coup that resulted in his death and ultimately his replacement."
"So how can I help?"
Michael caught the eye of the blonde tech who appeared free of work, pointing towards the screen he sat in front of. Not needing to be told twice the man readied his fingers for the search he knew was needed of him. "We don't have enough to build a reliable profile. All we have so far is a name and a face," when he looked down next the target's file was prominent on the screen.
Micah, Alicia's memory supplied his name, recognizing instantly the headshot that his file contained. I must admit she mused inwardly as she took in the familiar deep brown eyes I'm impressed. What had once been hidden behind a pair of dark sunglasses was now unmistakably clear; he held power. At the time she'd credited her level of comfort with him to the fact that he was sure in himself. She'd assumed his confidence in being her bodyguard was because it was his career, but it was apparent Micah had a bigger role in the grand scheme of things.
"Searches have been inconclusive," he continued, turning his eyes back to her for this last part, "but we have managed to turn up a single known living associate."
She wasn't sure what his blue eyes were trying to say to her, and when he motioned to the techie she was quick to look to him for answers. It surprised her to see the blonde haired man Birkhoff had once teased her for befriending, and as he manipulated the mouse she drew up his name Clint. If it wasn't for the pictures appearing on the screen behind him then she would have said hello to the familiar techie. Instead Alicia was momentarily ruffled by what now consumed the screen. They were pictures of Micah, sure, but they were also pictures of her.
Just as her eyes flickered back to Michael's to reach some sort of understanding he in turn looked to the computer monitor. "Aside from these photos, facial recog hasn't found a single hit on Miguel Estrada. The time stamps coincide with when you were in the area for Operation Fair Trade," Michael's eyes found hers, "making his only known contact Camille Durden."
Alicia could feel Clint's eyes on hers, but it was the accusation behind Michael's tone that had her brain clicking away. "When I knew him his name was Micah; not Miguel," she commented, deciding to start out small. When denying something, even when you're telling the truth, it's never a good idea to start out emotional. As tempting as it was to launch in to an amused explanation; she couldn't. Alicia knew she was on thin ice with the impeccably dressed Head Agent and smiling was one of the worst things she could do.
"He wouldn't be the first person to tell a lie," he responded pointedly.
Deciding not to take offense to the tone of his remark; Alicia kept her cool. "He was one of Dìaz's men; personally assigned to be my bodyguard for the duration of my stay. It should all be in the report," she looked to Clint for only saw those green eyes of hers for a heartbeat before he was carrying out her wish. It was an easy task, and he selfishly hoped that the next she'd ask of him would be something bigger. Birkhoff's not the only one with a brain around here he couldn't help but feel competitive. What other than his brain could possibly have attracted her? By all means he was a better looker than him.
"I'm familiar with the report," Michael responded even as Clint pulled it up.
As Alicia scanned it she realized that she wasn't. The words on the screen all reflected the events that occurred during what had been a twelve day away-mission; but they weren't her words. Samson she realized he handled the reports; not me. He'd been Point so it had only made sense, but it left her at a loss for trying to find the entries she needed to back up her story. "There's mention of a guard assignment on day six," it was Clint who found what she was looking for.
She'd only started to read over the section he'd moved his mouse to when Michael spoke up once more. "It also says she befriended him for reasons unknown."
"It what?" Alicia couldn't stop the confused question from slipping past her lips. She looked up at Michael in disbelief.
He only nodded, crossing his arms over his chest as he met her eyes. "You were hesitant to engage Dìaz as an asset, but that wasn't the case for his bodyguard," his lips quirked up to hint at a sneer, never fully committing to the action.
"Micah was the source of the guard's frequencies I obtained," she attempted to set the record straight.
"Was that before or after ice cream on the downtown strip?" Michael shot back, referring to the photos that had been up only moments ago.
If Alicia hadn't been so practiced in keeping up a façade she would have grimaced. She could understand his apprehension towards her due to Birkhoff, but this was pushing it. Aside from her relationship she was true to Division. "I had to get him comfortable in order to access the frequencies," running a hand through her tousled hair she decided to stick to simple answers. It was easier than trying to explain that, as Camille, she'd felt so relaxed after the hot stone massage it seemed only natural to include Micah. Or, Miguel as apparently he now went by.
For a moment he stared at her, before lowering his arms back to his sides. "The report mentions you remained in his good graces after you accessed the cameras," Michael pointed out.
"I did."
Clint wasn't sure where the tension had been coming from, but it seemed to lift as the Head Agent visibly relaxed. "The fact remains you're the only one with firsthand knowledge of Estrada. If you know anything you can contribute to the profile; now is the time to do so," Michael informed Alicia, falling back a step. From his pocket he withdrew a cellphone, checking the time before slipping it back into his jacket. "Assist her," he didn't even bother to look to Clint as he motioned towards Alicia.
There was a moment of pause in which they watched him disappear, Alicia lingering in place until the door to Operations closed behind him. It wasn't long before she'd pulled a rolling chair up beside Clint and was turning those jade green eyes on him. Like with Birkhoff, she launched right into work. As she recalled small details about the man Clint recorded them accordingly, noticing that unlike with Birkhoff she always remained at a slight distance. His fingers worked on their own even as his mind had found a new track to wander down.
Ever since Amanda had assigned him with keeping an eye on the pair, Clint had spent countless hours with Alicia on his screen. Any time she set foot in Division he was prepared to check in on her on a regular basis. It had become clear that despite her naturally easygoing nature there were three people that she treated differently. What he didn't understand was why. In a sense she'd sought out the best of the best: Birkhoff, Roan and Samson. One was a technology genius, one a mastermind in erasing people and the other an expert Agent.
It didn't confuse him until he considered her motive. So far he'd only seen her actively engage one of the men; Birkhoff. Of the three he made the least sense to Clint; at least the other two could be considered both deadly and attractive. The Head Tech was a sardonic geek with a god-complex and an affinity for anything virtual. He was a prodigy all right; but that was it. Division didn't only consist of one tech savvy brain and as far as Clint was concerned Alicia could do better. If it was smarts that attracted her then she need look no further.
"Has he done something?"
Alicia's voice brought him back to planet earth, noticing for the first time that she'd stopped feeding him information and instead directed the question at him. Blinking, he cleared his head of the crazy thoughts that had been occupying it only moments ago. "Who?"
"Micah, Miguel- whatever his name is," she shrugged, easing back into her black chair.
His eyes left her only long enough to scan overall status of the man's profile, and as he read he relayed the facts. "Using the firearms purchased through your cover, he orchestrated a takeover on Salvador Dìaz effectively seizing control of his assets in the process."
When he looked back to her it was to catch a small nod as she seemed to mull this over. "But other than that he hasn't done anything?" she questioned, quirking a brow. Reading the question on his face she tucked a stray hair back behind her ear before elaborating. "He's just taken over a small crime empire, putting himself on our map; that much I gather. What I want to know is if he's done anything other than that. Say, an increase in violence or crime related to his rise in power," Alicia answered easily, not a single hint of irritation to her voice. No matter how many times he managed to talk to her, the ease with which she handled everything always amazed him.
"If he has there's no note of it here," the techie commented, looking to his monitor to confirm due to mere habit.
Alicia refrained from smiling in relief. She couldn't quite explain it, but she was actually a little glad that Micah was doing well for himself. After raking her memory for every instance that included him she'd been reminded of how nice of company he'd been. If it weren't for all of the underlying circumstances she would even go as far as to say they could have been friends. Though the name still threw her, she hoped that this Miguel Estrada was still the same man she'd met. Putting a bullet in his head for crossing the line would truly be a shame.
When Samson pushed through the door to Operations his eyes sought out Birkhoff's station out of sheer habit. He knew the man wasn't there; he'd passed his class in the computer lab during his search. The black rolling chair sat empty, its screen black and sleeping from lack of use. The rest of Operations was abuzz though and so he skimmed over the techies with his eyes, taking only a moment to zero in on his target. There, next to some blonde hair blue eyed techie, sat Alicia. Samson crossed the drab cement floor that separated them, successfully gaining their attention only after coming to a stop a short distance away. "What are you doing here?" he had no qualms about ignoring everyone but Alicia.
"Hello to you too," she smiled, and despite the dark bruising that canvased the right side of her face she actually looked happy to see him.
It only lasted a fraction of a second but Samson's initial impulse was to treat her behavior as suspicious; he couldn't recall the last time Alicia had smiled at him and meant it. Rather he returned her smile with a narrowing of his eyes, crossing his arms over his broad chest as he gave her a pointed look. "You should be in medical," he scolded her.
She knew him well enough not to bother trying to include the blonde techie in their conversation. "You should be on the field," Alicia shot back, one narrow brow quirking up.
"I got back."
"I got better."
For a second he stared into her green eyes, a small smirk growing on his face. "Your face says otherwise," Samson couldn't help but tease. Remembering her injury her eyes flashed, lips pursing as she considered a comeback. "Why aren't you in medical?" he rephrased his earlier question before they could get sidetracked.
"They released me yesterday," Alicia answered this time.
"But you're still on medical leave."
"Medical stay more like it," she commented, "I'm confined to Division until I'm fully healed."
Samson narrowed his eyes, smirk evaporating as his lips pulled tight. This girl he mused is crazy. First she nearly dies after exciting her Russian captors, and now she was treating her injury as though it were nothing. He'd seen the extent of the damage the men had inflicted on her; he knew how bad it was. Amanda wouldn't suggest a trial operation just on account of some cracked ribs. "But you're still on medical leave," he repeated, "which begs the question; why have I found you in Operations?"
For the first time since he'd approached, Alicia looked over to Clint. She'd felt his eyes flickering between her and her partner as they exchanged not so pleasant pleasantries. It was clear by his eyes that, though he looked impartial to the conversation occurring directly beside him, he wasn't any more comfortable with Samson than Birkhoff was. Not my problem she decided, unsure if it was the medication making her more careless or the pain starting to rear its ugly head. "I was lending a hand in compiling a profile," she shrugged, not seeing the big deal. Even Birkhoff hadn't had any qualms about her being up and about after surgery.
"You're suspended from Active duty Alicia," Samson groaned, giving his head a small shake, "you should be resting, notworking."
"Oh I think I'll survive. All I did was talk," Alicia informed him with a playful smile, looking over to Clint, "I didn't even touch the computer; isn't that right?" He nodded and she turned her attention back to Samson, not the least bit surprised he hadn't bothered to look to the techie for confirmation. "Either way I'm finished here. And I'm famished;" she admitted to the hunger that had grown right alongside the pain, "what time is it?" Getting up from the seat sent a hot shock through her abdominal muscles but it was easily ignored.
Samson uncrossed his arms, pushing up the leather sleeve of his jacket to check his watch. "It's going on three."
Alicia groaned. It hadn't felt like she'd spent the last six hours thinking about Micah. Miguel she corrected her thoughts. His new name, or real name, was going to take some getting used to. "Looks like we missed lunch," she sighed, looking back down to Clint.
"You'll never get better if you don't take care of yourself," Samson scolded her once more. She wasn't sure where this sudden concern was coming from but when she met his hazel eyes it was definitely there.
Clint listened in silence, trying to keep his eyes from the Agent who was so aptly ignoring him. Never had a word passed between the pair; but he knew all about Samson. He'd seen the young man more often than even Alicia. In fact, 80% of the time Clint had his cameras trained on her she was with her partner. Add that to how often the Agent occupied Division's halls and a mental profile of sorts had been started. Listening to their back and forth he came to another deduction; Samson treated Alicia differently than everyone else. Even without looking at the pair that had started to walk away he could picture the difference in the Agent's mannerisms.
Samson wasn't like Alicia; he wasn't known for being lighthearted. In fact, if it didn't have to do with an Operation, the only time he bothered to interact with anyone was when it came to his higher ups. Without his partner, or better half as Alicia had begun to be referred to, the Agent was unapproachable. He was cocky, confident and carried himself like nothing that didn't concern him existed. Yet the very young man who didn't so much as make eye contact when passing another was giving a chuckle that could only be described as playful as he held open the door for Alicia.
"You know, I find it amazing you're still alive with how careless you are," Samson smirked over her. Apparently he found some sort of humor in learning she'd not only missed lunch, but had forgotten to take her medication on time.
"Skipping one meal is hardly life threatening business," she scoffed, wishing he'd drop it already.
He moved swiftly, pulling her down a side hallway and turning to face her without any warning. Luckily she was used to his impulsiveness and the urge to punch him was easily subdued. "You're not going without eating," his face having morphed into a serious expression.
Alicia didn't refrain from reacting with a sour glare. "I think I missed the part where I agreed you could make my decision for me," she scoffed again.
"I wouldn't have rescued you if I'd known you wouldn't take care of yourself," Samson's voice came as a low whisper.
Eyes flickering around the empty hallway, Alicia could feel her blood begin to boil. There was no guarantee no one could hear them, no way of knowing if those very walls had ears. There were few places in Division that she knew for certain weren't monitored. Using a recruit's room was easily ruled out; being alone with Samson in such close quarters was a bad idea. Sub-Level twelve was another option quickly dismissed. Birkhoff would worry if he happened to find her signal broadcasting there, and even worse was the possibility the designated torture level was already in use. At the thought of her computer genius boyfriend an answer hit her; Birkhoff's Lair!
"I'm not talking about this here," Alicia informed him before starting in its direction. As she knew he would; Samson fell into step beside her.
There was no need to ask her where she was going. Regardless of where she was taking him, he wouldn't allow himself to be distracted. No, he'd sought her out for a reason and so far he didn't like the outcome. She was supposed to be in medical, she was supposed to be off duty and she was supposed to be taking care of herself. The very three things he had hoped she was doing were exactly what she wasn't. It was infuriating really. He'd felt foolish for needing to check on her, and now he felt even worse that there had been good reason to. Somehow she'd gotten into his head and the last thing he needed was a reason for her to be there.
What is it about her? Samson found himself wondering, and not for the first time. Ever since they had been made a team he'd had his sights on her, but he knew it had started before that. Ever since she'd outshined him during their first Situation together he'd known she was something special. His eyes lingered on her curves, falling back a step to better continue his mental evaluation of Alicia. She was attractive, beautiful even, but that wasn't what surprised him. What had him following in silence was the clicking of wheels as they turned within his head.
Alicia was nothing like the women he usually went after. She's not going after me he thought dryly for starters. But it was more than the fact she opted to keep him at arms-length or her personality that set her apart; it was everything about her. She was slender, the only meat on her bones in the form of smooth flawless muscle; nothing like the curvaceous women he typically bedded. Despite her small size she still possessed an hour glass figure- breasts that fit perfectly in his hand, a smooth dip inwards at her waist leading to hips that somehow managed to seamlessly tie it all together.
When she keyed in the code there were no large breasts for his eyes to catch a peek of; just a hint of cleavage. Yet, for some reason he couldn't explain, he wouldn't have it any other way. The very body he had once passed as acceptable had somehow morphed into desirable. Samson didn't ask where she'd brought him, and when the door opened he followed her through without a second thought. The slew of weird feelings brewing inside of him could be easily quelled. All he would have to do is remind himself just how uninterested Alicia was. It was a system that had been working for him ever since he'd realized his dream of being poster children for Division. Samson would come on stronger and Alicia would reinforce her walls; it just worked.
Samson was glad for the impatience in her emerald green eyes as she stared at him, stopping the moment the door closed behind them. "Let's get one thing straight; I neverasked you to save me," Alicia was quick to launch straight back into the conversation.
"A damsel in distress never does," he pointed out, lips lifting in the hint of a devilish smirk. Quarrelling with her was not only his specialty but a hobby he rather enjoyed. It wasn't that he was masochistic but rather that it was one of the few times she showed any real passion. Samson knew there was a fine line between loathing and lust. The deathly glint in her eyes gave his imagination all he needed to picture the spark that desire would bring.
Alicia gave a dry laugh. "You are about as far from a knight in shining armor that one can get."
"Oh I think abandoning my post to come to your aid qualifies me as a white knight," he shot back, quite liking the sound of that.
"No it just makes you stupid," she responded with a pursing of her lips.
"So you'd rather I left you with the Russians?" Samson questioned, a little put off by how straightforward she was being. Typically there arguments were comparable to their fighting styles: he was on the offense and she was on the defense. Now, however, she wasn't carrying herself with the usual casual disregard she held for him.
"You mean instead of jeopardizing the entire mission? Between that and having to lie about it; yes," she wasted no time in replying, "I wish you would have."
Samson had known there'd be some friction between them as a result of his impulsive action. Alicia was both proud and capable, a combination that made any form of assistance frowned upon. But the fire in her eyes and the defensive stance she'd taken on wasn't how she should have reacted. Where was the aloof Alicia who snubbed his advances so casually? Something is off his brain warned, and he knew it had more to it than the rescue they were discussing. "They would have killed you," he reminded her, using the phrase to test the waters.
"Then I'd be dead," once more she responded with a shrug.
Taken aback for a moment he took in her face, scanning the tight lips and dilated pupils that were pointed in his direction. Somewhere along the line she'd lost her cool. This is it the realization dawned on him in the silence that hung in the air the wall is down. Alicia was reacting emotionally; something she very rarely did. Usually it only lasted a moment, just long enough for him to get a glimpse at her inner workings, but not this time. Her guard was down, emotions up and an opportunity was presenting itself. And yet . . . yet the tug of some unseen force redirected his thinking.
Seeing her standing before him, bruised and battered, all of his ulterior motives went flying out of the window. "What medication do they have you on?" Samson asked without hesitation. The signs are all there he felt stupid for not having seen it earlier. The reason Alicia was acting irrationally was because her emotions were heightened. She smiled at me, the dark look on her face reminded him of earlier, I should have known it then.
"Why?" Alicia didn't understand his question. There was something going on behind those hazel eyes of his, but she didn't know what. All she knew was that she was in too much pain to deal with him right now. Her ribs ached in an unusual, almost heavy tug. She could just imagine the metal they'd used probably threw her sense of weight a bit. Amanda had assured her before the surgery that it was extremely lightweight and very nearly undetectable. Still, she was very conscious of her body and the feel of something foreign in her accompanied the pain. She didn't know which was worse; trying to deal with her body's complaints or Samson's shenanigans.
"When I got shot they gave me these little blue ones," she was surprised when Samson actually started to answer, "for the pain."
As bemused as Alicia was at him answering her; she didn't quite know what to make of it. "Okay?"
"Where do you have it? Is it here?" he asked, for the first time looking at their surroundings. Before she could pull him to a stop he was down the stairs, taking in the room with a slow sweep of his eyes. "Don't tell me this is-"
"Someplace I shouldn't have brought you," she cut him off, realizing her mistake.
Samson finished his scan before meeting her eyes, running a finger over his eyebrow as he smirked towards her. "And what praytell, did you have to do to get access to the geek's personal headquarters?" he asked, voice a playful growl.
"It's more comfortable than medical-"
"I bet it is."
"-and," she ignored his snide interruption, "it's just as well equipped. I can do my checkups here without disrupting the recruits every eight hours."
"How long has it been since your last one?"
It took her a second to calculate before finding the perfect excuse to make him leave. "A little over eight hours," she responded truthfully.
Before she could reiterate the fact it was time for him to go Samson moved towards the equipment, Alicia following wearily behind him after a moment of hesitation. "This one?" he asked, not bothering a glance over his shoulder at her.
Seeing as the machine had been the only one that was actually set up it was pointless to deny it. "Yes."
He nodded, eyes shifting to the various medical equipment Birkhoff's office held. A number of them looked like they were in the state of repair. "And Birkhoff plays the nurse?" he teased.
Alicia sighed, running a hand through her hair. Well, he's not going to go now she admitted internally in defeat, not until I give him something. So she took the bait. "Why yes; when he's here he does," she answered with an easy smile when he turned to look to her.
"And when he's not around?"
She'd expected him to pester her more about Birkhoff, giving her opportunity to follow through with her plan of telling him to ask Amanda. It would have been enough to get him to leave; or so she had hoped. "I call Medical and they send someone," she answered, keeping up her air of ease with a shrug.
"So you can't do it yourself," it was more of a question than a statement.
"If I could move while the scan was active then I would. All I have to do is lay there while they run the program; the machine does everything else."
"Well then, let's play,"Samson smiled; an expression that sent a chill of worry down her spine.
She wasn't sure quite what to make of his comment. . . yet again. I'm not in the mood for this her mind poked at her, reminding her that unlike the discomfort of her abdomen- Samson wouldn't go away with a simple pill. But to take her medication she needed to eat, and before she ate she was due for a check-up. "I don't have time for games Samson," she sighed, running a hand through her hair.
"It'll be fun," he assured her with a mischievous smile, drawing closer to the machine.
Realization dawned on her, but only after he patted the firm mattress of the medical bed. "What reason could I possibly have to agree to that?" Alicia rolled her eyes.
But Samson was determined. He'd managed to steer clear of dangerous waters and he knew that if he played his cards right things may go his way for once. "I'm here, you're here, the equipment is here and would you look at that"a wolfish gleam was in his eye as he paused, pressing a button, "it's already running." It only took a second before the machine did indeed hum to life, the screen flashing white before beginning the startup process. Though he had only guessed on what to push it had at least been educated. Even he wasn't too stubborn to admit that Birkhoff's lessons proved useful.
Alicia raised a hand to her eyes in frustration, giving her a head a slow shake as though in disbelief of his actions. "No," she answered simply.
"And why not?" he asked, closing the short distance between them. Hand lowering back to her side, she peered at him with brows raised, a sassy expression on her face that only made Samson smirk. He knew she had to be in pain right now, he knew one of the medication's side effects was irritability but he also knew that the last thing Alicia wanted was to let him win. "All I want to do is help," Samson added on with a soft smile as his eyes danced over her face.
"You've already done enough," Alicia muttered darkly in reply. Again with that look! he couldn't comprehend the reason behind her angry eyes. He'd broken the rules to save her life and ultimately committed both of them to a lie; but that didn't explain her attitude. Alicia wasn't one to dwell on the past and yet she continued to do so. If she was acting out of character then there had to be a reason.
Normally he could weasel it out of her, or at least get a sense on what she was hiding, but not this time. No, Samson had his sights on not only solving the riddle but defusing the bomb. As partners they had to trust each other on the field and from the way she was behaving he had the sneaking suspicion he'd lost that trust. "Out of everything that I've done," he asked, the question forming even as it left his lips, "why is it that refusing to leave you for dead is considered the worst?"
Her body tensed, standing a little straighter than she had been a moment ago. The hand that she'd absentmindedly placed on her stomach lowered and her eyes went emotionless. Instead of being discouraged Samson waited for her reply. "I'm happy to be alive if that's what you want to hear," she chose her words carefully, "but that's where it ends. If you're looking for a thank you; you're not going to get it."
"I'm not after one."
"I don't owe you anything," she clarified firmly; finally coming out with the core of their issue.
Samson was surprised it hadn't occurred to him sooner. "No one said you did," he offered her a small smile. He'd had no intention of using that against her. Even he wasn't that underhanded. Still, she looked anything but convinced. "I acted on my own. When I heard you were alive I had to see for myself; you would have done the same."
"No I wouldn't;" Alicia responded coolly, "I would have taken out Kruikov when I had the chance."
Even with that said, Samson's face softened as his eyes traced over the green and purple that canvassed the side of her face. "You would."
"I wouldn't" she repeated stiffly. The smile Samson flashed her way was laced with a challenge; one he knew she'd accept. It was better to get it all out now then have a cloud following them around. "Division doesn't do exfils Samson; you know that as well as I do. Any Agent who isn't prepared to take one for the team doesn't deserve what we've been offered here," she spoke with conviction; a proud gleam to her emerald eyes.
"You're always bending over backwards for this second chance of yours, so why are you so willing to throw it away?"
"Perhaps you're confusing the bogus report we filed with reality. I got shot and captured; I didn't just hand myself over," she scoffed, shaking her head. Alicia didn't know what he hoped to get out of this exchange. Samson had to have some sort of ulterior motive, but for the life of her she couldn't conjure one up that matched with his behavior.
"And I moved on with the Op in that mindset; complete the mission, kill the badguy and fuck the rest. But when I heard you were still alive, well," his eyes lingered on her stomach for a moment before flickering to meet her eyes, "I couldn't just leave you there."
"You could have and you should have."
She knew that he'd heard her despite the fact his expression remained unchanged. "Well I didn't," he stepped forward, that damn soft smile on his lips, "and if I could do it again the only thing I'd do different is come sooner."
Alicia stared into his hazel eyes searching for any indication of a catch. Samson forfeiting the one thing he held over her didn't make sense; not one bit. As playful the undertone to his voice was, the words themselves didn't seem to hold any hidden purpose. "What are you trying to accomplish Samson?" she asked, taking a step back in the process. Oh he's good, she mused, knowing better than to believe a single word out of his mouth let alone the emotions on his face.
Before he could answer they were interrupted by the sound of the heavy metal door clicking unlocked. Alicia turned, eyes finding the door as it was pushed open. Birkhoff appeared with a bag of twizzlers hanging from his mouth and a brown paper bag supported in one arm. Shit! Alicia's eyes went wide as her gut twisted in panic. This was not good; it was not good at all. She tried to conjure up an acceptable excuse for Samson's presence only to find there wasn't one. What was I thinking? her thoughts chided.
"It's just me," Brikhoff greeted her with a smile the moment he met her eyes. She appeared lost for a minute before looking over her shoulder towards the medical equipment. He followed her stare to the machine that hummed with life. "Am I too late for your check-up?" he asked hesitantly. For some reason the thought of any of the male medical staff running the tests on Alicia rubbed him the wrong way. It was irrational, he knew this, but Birkhoff couldn't help it. In part it had to do with the fact they all looked like soap-opera stars. Even the older one, who he'd long suspected was a letch, had a decent look if you were into that sort of thing.
"Uh, no," her emerald eyes returned to him, "I was just warming it up for you."
He grinned, striding forward to set the bag down on the nearest table. "I got you some food," Birkhoff ran a hand through his tousled chestnut hair, "I didn't know what you'd want so I just grabbed whatever looked the most edible. I forgot how ominous the stuff they feed you recruits is."
"I'm not a recruit anymore," she reminded him, brows rising in amusement.
"That you are not Aphrodite," a smile took over his lips as he looked to her. It would have lasted longer if he hadn't been reminded how true that was by the bruising on her face. Alicia had been an Active Agent for months now; much longer than she'd been a recruit. Yet Birkhoff found himself wishing that she'd never graduated. Sometimes recruits that showed promise remained in the training program for a year- sometimes more. He wished it had been the case with her.
From behind the computers Samson watched, bent low into a crouch that only allowed him to see their legs. Hiding had been second nature, and the moment Alicia had turned her eyes away he'd moved. Not knowing where he was going he ducked behind the nearest thing that would provide cover: the overcrowded computer desks. He grimaced as he watched the computer geek's sneakers draw nearer to Alicia's feet. As much as he wanted to know firsthand just what the two were up to it still felt frustrating beyond words to see the two together; period.
Listening to them talk he realized that nothing would be gained from this unexpected in. Alicia knew that he was hiding away out of site, and while she did an amazing job of hiding that fact, she was clearly playing it safe. The flirting between the pair felt off. He really has no idea Samson mused. Unlike when his partners were driving him crazy over the com links Alicia was playing it safe. It left him to wonder if she was toning it down because he was watching, or because she had bitten off more than she could chew with Birkhoff. I mean really, the guy had given her access to his headquarters.
And what was with that nickname? Aphrodite; goddess of beauty, pleasure and love Samson couldn't help but wish he'd come up with it first as he mulled it ove. He followed their movement, the sound of their voices stopping as the hum of the medical equipment grew louder. Creeping forward, he stayed to the shadows as he moved to get a better look. Sure enough the check-up she'd refused to let him run was instead being done by the Head IT. Whatever Alicia hoped to achieve by leading him on she was clearly dedicated. So much so that Samson caught a glimpse of her lying shirtless on the medical bed.
Settling back onto his heels Samson eased himself to rest under one of the desks. He wasn't going to get anything from watching; he knew that. Listening was proving to be just as pointless. Aside from a pet name that he'd never heard; their conversation was mundane and normal. Birkhoff was laying it on a bit stronger than usual, Alicia behaving more subdued in turn, and frankly Samson was tempted to make himself known. He was getting nothing out of it but irritation. Should have at least made him jealous he closed his eyes and retreated to his thoughts as he waited. Why she wasn't utilizing him in her little plan Samson wasn't sure, and he also wasn't sure if the feeling that came from this was actually hurt.
He knew Alicia would find a way to usher the man out sooner or later; she knew Samson still lurked in the room after all. When the time finally came he had to give his muscles a minute to wake up as he prepared to move. "You can come out now," her voice rang out and he smirked at the sound of it. Even though she knew he was there, even Alicia didn't know where he was hiding.
It was tempting to make her search for him but the whim passed, and he eased himself from his hiding spot with a casual grace. "About time," Samson flashed a smug smile, "I was starting to think you'd leave me there."
"Why didn't I think of that?" though her tone was teasing, the flicker of annoyance in her eyes told him otherwise.
"Because you didn't want to leave me just yet Aphrodite," he ran his thumb over his brow, looking towards her with a smirk. The pursing of her lips gave him little satisfaction as he felt tempted to do the same. In his mind the little nickname had seemed so fitting and yet when he called her by it the effect was lost. It sounded cold and unattached, and he felt like he'd tried to laugh at a private joke; wrong.
"Don't call me that," Alicia groaned after a moment, her fingers coming to rest against her temples in frustration.
His eyes flickered to the desks he'd hidden behind, quickly finding the pill bottle he'd spotted earlier. Even without reading the label he could tell just from the color of the bottle it was Division issued. "Yeah, I thought it was cheesy too," he chuckled casually taking a step towards where the medication rested.
"What do you want Samson?" she asked, sounding tired of it all. Instead of rising to his teasing she collapsed back onto a leather couch looking defeated.
"What do I want?"
"You may as well come out with it," she responded, emerald eyes meeting his. "You didn't seek me out just to chat; we both know that."
Samson was tempted to tell her that was exactly why he'd shown up in medical looking for her. After completing the simple kill mission he'd changed into his civilian clothes only to realize he didn't have any plans for the night. The cute neighbor he'd been messing around with had become a little too attached and arriving home late was in his best interest. Instead of opting to pass time at a bar he found talking to Alicia the best alternative. Samson knew that if he were to admit that she'd never believe him. She was being openly suspicious of him and he couldn't really blame her. Up to this point he'd always wanted to push her into just that position.
Now, however, it felt wrong. Samson had never had a very strong code of ethics and the ones he had were all self-decided making them easy to break. But . . . the usually lighthearted girl he loved to spar with wasn't what he saw before him. With bloodshot eyes, a bruised face and a worn-out expression she looked to be on the verge of closing her eyes and ignoring him until he left her alone. Even though it wouldn't have broken his morals to play with her, despite the fact she was also coming down from medication; he couldn't do it. It had occurred to him, yes, but it had also been dismissed.
Deciding to be honest he shrugged, already anticipating how she would respond. "I was interested in your recovery. I came twice before this but you were still under from surgery. You know," he'd closed the distance to the meds, sweeping them from the table, "you really should be taking these. They won't be easy to ease off of but they will speed the healing process."
Alicia looked up at him, trying to figure out what his game was. It wasn't like Samson to care for her wellbeing. It also isn't like him to go against Division, but he did that she reminded herself. Besides; if he was going to pretend to be a normal person it would be less stressful to go along with it. "They aren't worth the headache," she muttered instead.
"Coming down from them is what's causing your headache," Samson corrected her. He stepped up to the couch before glancing down to read the label. "Thirty milligrams? They only gave me ten," his gaze raised to meet hers, "and coming down was the worst part. You really need to take these."
"I-"
"You should eat first though," he didn't let her get a word out edgewise. Alicia caught the bottle he tossed her way on pure instinct, the pills rattling around in the deep blue container. She looked down at the medication that had been prescribed to her. Alicia Linnet was printed in bold as a reminder that she truly wasn't who she used to be. There was no reason she should be avoiding pills: Division knew best. "Let's see what the geek grabbed for you," Samson's voice broke her line of thoughts, her head aching even as she looked up at him.
"I'll get it myself," she tried to dismiss him, "you shouldn't even be in here."
He looked up from the brown paper bag he was sifting through. "Neither should you," Samson felt the need to remind her with a stern gaze. Grimacing, he returned his eyes to the bag before pulling something out. He looked back to her, hazel eyes warning of the scolding to come. "There's been talk about the two of you. It's no secret that the geek has a thing for you," he cocked his head to peer at her, "so what they're speculating about is your reasons."
Alicia sighed. "Let them speculate," she shrugged, not seeing his point, "I'm not worried about gossip."
"The way they see it you're being a pushover. After all, we are Amanda's Pets; it would only make sense we work our way up the ladder by any means necessary. In fact I heard you were collecting men," he chuckled darkly as he stepped up to the couch. "I'm supposedly one of them," Samson added, looking down to the sandwich he was unwrapping, "and they have some rather interesting theories on how you won me over."
Her brows drew together, frowning slightly at Samson's partial smirk. "So you've come to gloat?" she challenged him. The anger she felt was towards him, yes, but it was stronger since it was also on Birkhoff's behalf. He has to hear these things every day she thought of how the recruits would gossip. In a super-secret spy facility you'd think life was exciting; it wasn't. After a month the glamor of going on Operations wore off and it went from a dream to a duty. One can only talk about Intel for so long, if at all, and it caused a lack of topics. Naturally talk turned towards the only thing left: other Operatives. Secrets were hard to keep when you're surrounded with trained assassins with time on their hands and nothing better to talk about.
"I set the record straight actually," his answer was one she hadn't expected. Even more outstanding was the fact his eyes told her he was being truthful. Now she was really confused. Before Alicia could even consider questioning him he joined her on the couch. "I couldn't clear up anything about Birkhoff though, seeing as you're keeping it from even me. You'd be surprised how many people expect me to know since we work so closely-" he gave a small laugh before handing forward the sandwich, "Turkey and swiss?"
Alicia looked down at the sandwich a moment before accepting it. "If you're trying at a guilt trip you're failing miserably," she warned him, looking to him with suspicion.
Samson just smiled, his arm stretching out behind her as he got comfortable, crossing one foot over his knee. Surprisingly he didn't make a move to get closer, and instead let his hand come to rest on the back of the couch behind her neck. "Paranoia is a side effect of missing a dose," he pointed to the pill bottle she had set in her lap, "along with migraines, irritability and heightened emotions to name a few."
Though she rolled her eyes Alicia didn't hesitate to take a bite of the sandwich. She'd been hungry, and even the bland taste of Division's food was welcome at this point. "I'll take them," she conceded after swallowing, "so you can drop it."
He watched in silence as she ate another few bites, deciding it was better not to irritate her at this point. He wasn't lying when he said coming down had been difficult. The pain from missing a dose was ten times worse than not taking the medication to begin with. When she moved to get up he stopped her with a hand on her knee. "What do you need?" he asked, ignoring the annoyed glare she shot his way.
"I'm getting a drink," she answered stiffly.
"I'll get it," Samson didn't give her opportunity to object, quickly rising to his feet. "Where does he keep them? I know the geek has an army of refrigerators here somewhere," he commented, eyes sweeping the room for a quick second. When she didn't offer any help he looked back to see the glare on her face remained. "I know you're in pain Alicia," her mouth opened and he cut her rebuttal off, "trust me; I've been there. I'm just trying to help."
Alicia gave him a dry smile. "I didn't know that word was even in your vocabulary," the playful voice she usually would have used was instead cynical.
Like the geek the comparison annoyed him, and he frowned. Where was that smile he'd been given earlier? "I'm not about to prey on you when you can't even put up a fight," Samson responded with a smirk. Regardless of her state Alicia would only believe him if he didn't deny he held ulterior motives. They both knew he did, and pretending that it wasn't true was insulting if nothing else. He knew; it was how he'd felt when she hadn't clued him in on her game with Birkhoff. The only consolation was she hadn't denied it, and so he decided to drop it for now.
"Then why stay?" she asked, eyes narrowing on him in suspicion.
Deciding it wasn't worth it to try and get an answer from her; Samson returned his eyes to searching for anything that would hold a drink. When he spotted the black refrigerator he smiled to himself. It didn't surprise him to open the doors and find a large supply of energy beverages, and he skimmed over them before finding the bottom rack contained bottled water. He grabbed two, just in case, before returning to her with the bottle as a peace offering of sorts. "Oh come on, it's just like the good old days," he smiled playfully as she begrudgingly accepted the water, "you and me sneaking around after hours to talk. At least here I can hide if someone comes along."
"You really shouldn't be in here," she groaned as he joined her on the couch once more. "If Birkhoff finds out-"
"As long as you keep him from checking the security feeds he'll never know."
"There's no cameras in here," Alicia didn't know why she was telling him this, "or mics. That's why I chose this room; so we wouldn't be overheard. What were you thinking, talking about the Op in the hallway?"
"You don't take care of yourself and you won't let anyone else," he responded sternly, his hand coming to rest behind her once more, "let alone me. This place wouldn't be the same without you; that's what I was thinking. I had to make sure you still felt some level of concern for yourself."
She uncapped the water, wishing she'd thought to look for it earlier. Alicia had just assumed Seymour would only stock energy drinks. While she knew he had to drink water sometime she honestly hadn't expected him to have a supply. The cool liquid felt amazing rushing down her sore throat only to be followed quickly by a stabbing pain in her temples. Samson had been right when he said migraines were a symptom of withdrawal no matter how much she wished he wasn't. She hadn't realized she was grimacing until she looked over to find he was staring at her. "What?" the word slipped out before she could stop it. She knew her irritability had been getting the best of her but she was too tired to fight it off.
"Your head?" Samson asked, ignoring her tone of voice. All the signs were there and he understood the pain she was smothering whether she'd admit to it or not. Her reply was only a sigh, which was more than he'd expected. He wouldn't put it past her to snap at him again. Instead she busied her mouth with finishing the food in her hand. Samson watched as she pointedly ignored him, taking in the damage as he examined her face. The bastards had done a number to her and he could feel his hands balling into fists as he thought back to when he'd found her. Turning back and shooting the men hadn't been necessary but sure had felt like it was.
It was like shooting fish in a barrel really; they hadn't even seen it coming. All he had to do was step into the doorway and let out a spray into the room. One pull of the trigger and a few sweeps of bullets from the semiautomatic and they were down for the count. He'd killed the men for what they'd done but he couldn't undo it. It was then that he realized he should have come sooner. If he had then she still would have been injured, yes, but it would have saved her a whole lot of unnecessary pain. Samson had felt she was still alive despite listening to his mind telling him otherwise. Hearing she was alive . . . he'd never before felt that level of relief.
But now she was here and she was beside him. As battered as she was she was still alive; that was what mattered. While he loved Division and the life they provided him he knew that without Alicia it would never be the same. It actually pained him to see her like this, especially when he went over all of the ways he could have prevented it. Worst of all had been the realization she would have died hating him. Samson didn't know why it mattered to him, but for some reason it did.
Though he knew she would object his fingers itched forward, pushing aside her hair in order to reach the warm skin of her neck. "What are you-" her voice faded off as he began to massage the muscles of her neck.
It was unfair of him, he knew that, but he couldn't resist. Samson was aware of just how good he was with his hands; even Alicia with all her reasons to protest couldn't get a word out. Beneath his skilled fingers he could feel her muscles relaxing and he focused on his task. Letting silence lace the air he worked up and down the back of her neck, resisting the urge to move to her temples. He knew in her current state it would do wonders but the possibility of it crossing the thin line he was barely managing to balance on was too high. The fact she'd let him continue in the first place was miracle enough.
When her emerald eyes drifted closed and a look of peace came over her face Samson couldn't draw his eyes away. The weakness she was showing was mesmerizing and, as she let out a soft breath from the tension being coaxed out of her, he traced the outline of her lips a hundred times over with his eyes. Of all the reactions he'd ever drawn out of her this was the sweetest he'd ever seen. Everything that had ever made him consider women inferior was right before him. Alicia looked delicate, her expression soft and dreamy as she allowed him to erase her stress with his expert techniques. Her neck, a most vital area, was at the mercy of his strong hand and yet her body didn't show the slightest sign of opposition. Though she would never admit it out loud she appreciated his hands on approach; she'd needed the comfort.
It was need that had always made him dismiss women as anything more than a good time. That was all they did; need and want. As if they deserve to be taken care of simply for being weak the familiar thought flickered through his mind. His hand moved lower, kneading at the muscles at the base of her neck as his eyes lifted from her lips to her closed eyes. On her face the expression he'd always loathed felt like a victory he'd never expected. Alicia was strong, smart and beautiful- not to mention incredibly deadly. She was the first woman he'd ever met who impressed him and the last he'd ever expected to find such an expression on. Even more bizarre was that he loved it.
Seeing her comfortable with him satisfied him beyond words. She was relaxed and it was all because of him. There were no walls up, no lies hanging in the air and better yet not a trace of suspicion to be found. When her eyes drifted open, thick lashes parting, her eyes immediately found his. Samson had already been staring at her and he could see the recognition of this fact passing through the deep green orbs that gazed at him. He prepared himself for the biting words when she looked away from him.
"When did you get shot?" he was unprepared for her question and his hand stilled its massage in surprise.
Trying to get a read on her was impossible, and after scanning the profile of her face twice over he gave up. It's better she extort my failure than put up a wall, he decided to tell her the truth. The last thing he wanted to do was ruin the mood. "A few months after we became a team," he responded slowly, unsure why she'd asked other than to insult him about it, "it was on a side mission."
"Another one like you did today?" she asked, the news new to her. Alicia knew Birkhoff partook in other Operations, he was the Head Technician after all, but she hadn't known Samson did as well. After being made a team the only missions she went on were with her two partners, the one exception being Amanda's ongoing side mission.
"I'm on the Alpha team from time to time," Samson nodded, "it's where I was originally assigned when I graduated."
She looked back to him, realizing there was a lot she didn't know about her partner. "I had no idea. I didn't even know you'd been shot," Alicia met his eyes.
"Yeah, well, you discourage talking," he responded with a playful smile, his fingers resuming their massage.
It was true; she had. Looking at him now an idea struck her. I've been going about things the wrong way Alicia felt like she'd just had an epiphany. When she had learned Samson had some sort of plan for the two of them she'd kept him distanced; even more so after the bedroom fiasco. They rarely talked and when they did she was always aloof and skillfully avoided any talk that didn't have to do with work. She had never considered winning Samson over. The odd friendship they'd had as recruits had actually been fun in a twisted version of the word. No one could scheme and keep up with her emotional games like Samson could.
She hadn't considered he might have a soft side. In fact; the mere idea had quite literally been laughable. Samson knew better than anyone how to play games and could see one from a mile away. Yet somehow remaining defensive had produced an unlikely result. Egotistical, overwhelming and utterly persistent Samson still had a heart beating in that puffed up chest of his. "So how did it happen?" Alicia questioned, looking away from him once more. She wanted to take advantage of the opportunity, much preferring the unlikely friendship to his usual pushy antics. Even more unusual was she was actually curious to hear the answer.
"We were escorting a target when we were ambushed. It was an inside job and we were unprepared. I caught a good one to the shoulder protecting the target before we could subdue the threat. I was sent back to medical and Alpha completed the Op without further incident," he explained. Alicia met his eyes in time to see them drift to the pill bottle in her lap. "They fixed up the wound and they put me on those little blue guys. I thought I didn't need them and stopped taking them;" Samson shook his head, "big mistake. Barely managed to get out of bed for our Op the next day. Needless to say I didn't miss a dose after that."
Alicia picked up the pills, reading the label before looking up to meet his steady gaze. His hand continued away on her neck and frankly it was like magic. She would have told him to stop, probably should have, but the relief from the simple massage was too immense to overlook. "They let you out the day after your injury?" Alicia asked in surprise. When she'd received a simple scratch to the stomach she had to take an entire week off before she was allowed so much as a computer Op with Birkhoff. It was another two weeks until she was on Active duty, and that had been her first Op with Samson as an official team.
"If I remember correctly," a smile took over his face, even going as far as to reach his eyes, "we saw an opera. You wore that white dress-"
"That day you decided to become a poet?" she knew exactly what Op he was referring to from the mention of the white dress alone. That dress had made her feel a level of sophisticated sexy she hadn't known she could achieve. Knowing Birkhoff's eyes had been on her had only helped with her pride, making her acting of the role even easier than usual. Thinking back she could remember Samson changing in front of her, but she had to admit she hadn't paid the slightest attention to his chest. "I didn't even notice," Alicia couldn't help but feel that a bullet wound would have gotten her attention.
With his free hand he pulled down the collar of the shirt he wore, leaning his torso towards her so she could see the faint change in color where the scar tissue had formed. Division drugs had done miracles, but there was still the faintest pink hue to the skin. "Through and through," he nodded, turning to show her the exit wound was just as clean. Samson felt her eyes taking in the sight, and when they raised to meet his he released the collar and relaxed back into the couch. "You were a little distracted by Birkhoff," his hand stopped its massage as he watched her open the pill bottle.
Ignoring his tone she took her medication, replacing the lid to the water bottle after finishing the rest of its contents. "Happy now?" Alicia asked the moment she was finished.
Samson knew the medication would be kicking in soon enough and she'd no longer be in pain. She'll probably be tired too he knew that feeling the effects of withdrawl, even for a few hours, was tiring. "Yes," he decided that he actually was. He'd accomplished more than he'd ever hoped to when he put it all into consideration. Leaving on good terms was in his best interest, but as he got up he realized he couldn't just leave her there. Birkhoff wouldn't be done with work for a few hours at least and if he came in while she was sleeping . . . "But you should let me walk you back to medical," he decided, looking down to where she sat.
"Why would you do that?" she asked, giving him a confused look as she drew back into the couch.
"So you can rest," he stated the obvious.
Alicia stared at him a moment before giving a soft laugh. "Samson, if I'm going to rest it'll be here. The fold out bed is a lot more comfortable than the gym mats they call mattresses here," her hand patted the couch they sat on that became the bed in question.
He stared at her, wondering if maybe she'd been of her meds for longer than he'd originally thought. "You can't be sleeping here; that's suicide. What would you do if Michael found out? Or Amanda?" Samson demanded of her. I can't believe her! He fumed, the blank look she gave him an expression that said she didn't understand why he'd say such a thing. "And what about Percy? You must really have a death wish; you can't honestly believe they'd be okay with this."
"Samson-"
"No," he cut her off, "I'm not going to let you carry on this suicide mission. Whatever it is you're after; it's not worth it."
She stared up at him, surprised that somewhere down the line Samson had developed actual feelings. The fact he was standing up to her for her safety rather than out of jealousy in her dealings with Birkhoff was monumental. For someone like her partner she had never so much as fathomed it was even possible. Yet here he was; hazel eyes alight with determination. Alicia looked up at him and realized that, despite the fact he hadn't pushed her for information, she would give it to him. "You should bring your concerns to Amanda," her words found themselves.
Samson looked as surprised as she felt at the unexpected advice flowing from her lips. "Why?"
"She has the answers to your questions," she smiled slowly, "but I can't guarantee that she'll give them to you." It took a second, but she could see understanding wash over his face as he stared at her as though trying to figure her out. Alicia knew he was wondering why she'd told him. He knew that, if what she was saying meant what he thought it did, he might finally get a chance to get to the bottom of her strange relationship with Seymour Birkhoff. "That's the best I can do," Alicia added, breaking eye contact as she tucked a strand of hair back behind her ear.
"You won't get into trouble?" Samson had to clarify, hardly believing his luck. The one time I don't go fishing for information and she offers it up? It had been an unexpected turn of events. Yet, as grateful as he was for the information, it would be for naught if she was put at risk by him pursing the answer. If she was telling him to go to Amanda that meant this went beyond her personal goals; a scenario he hadn't considered.
She shook her head, for the slightest second looking almost troubled by his question. He knew why too; they were both behaving unexpectedly. Samson knew that she'd drawn out a side of him he'd never been aware he had and he was just as shaken by it as Alicia was. Nevertheless he accepted it, finding it only apropos that Alicia had worked her magic on him as well. She truly was remarkable.
"My next review is in a week; I'll bring it up then. Don't worry," he added, staring directly into her eyes, "I'll approach it in a way that doesn't endanger you. You may be convinced it won't jeopardize whatever it is you're doing, but I won't take that risk."
Alicia couldn't grasp the Samson that had managed to make her feel eerily protected. It wasn't to the same degree of safety that Birkhoff provided her, but it was more than she'd ever expected out of her partner. He'd made her feel physically safe on missions, sure, but the sensation of trusting him with her wellbeing was entirely new. It was also a reminder that she couldn't let down her guard any further than she already had. "If you're concerned about risks," she felt the need to remind him, "then you should really go now. If Birkhoff-"
"I'm leaving," he cut her off with a wave of his hand, smiling as he gave his head a small shake. "Just make sure you take those as directed," Samson pointed in the direction of her pills that had once more found their way to her lap, "and don't slack off on eating. I won't always be around to play doctor."
Alicia rolled her eyes, throwing the empty water bottle across the room with a little scoff. Samson turned, the clear plastic bouncing off his back to fall to the floor. "You're lucky I'm injured," she warned playfully, "otherwise you wouldn't be so cocky."
"Lucky?" he asked, pausing before he could start up the stairs. Looking back over his shoulder at her, his eyes raked over her sitting there on the couch. The glitter in her eyes, the smile on her face . . . they were for him. Better yet they were real. He hadn't used any tricks to break through to her this time. "I couldn't disagree with you more. In my moment of hesitation it was fate I overheard you were still alive; not luck," he corrected her with a gleam to his hazel eyes.
"Fate?" she asked, disbelief and skepticism written all over her face.
After one long look at her his mind was indeed made up. "I fear so," Samson nodded slowly, "Delilah."
Alicia blinked at him, taking a moment to absorb just what he was calling her. "That's hardly a fair comparison," she scoffed, genuinely insulted. Sure, in his eyes she was seducing Birkhoff just to use him, but that hardly gave him justification for such name calling. In fact, she'd expected out of everyone Samson would understand it had to do with her devotion to Division. Of course I am actually lying to them. . . she had to remind herself.
Samson knew Alicia well enough to read her expression perfectly, a little laugh coming as he realized she'd misunderstood him. Instead of being annoyed she had just assumed he was referring to her interactions with Birkhoff; he decided to set her straight. "When I almost lost you I realized for the first time you are my weakness. Only, unlike the biblical tale, your death is the equivalent of losing my hair. I'd live," his voice was heavy, almost husky with his words, "but it would take a long time to regain my old strength."
The words didn't even have time to sink in before he was disappearing through the door. It closed behind him, the sound bouncing around in Alicia's head. She didn't know what terrified her more: Samson when he was being persistent or Samson as he had been only moments ago. There had been honesty on his face as he spoke; an honesty that sent chills down Alicia's spine. She felt as though his hand remained on the back of her neck; only this time his fingers were wrapping around her throat and applying gradual pressure.
"Aphrodite and Delilah . . ." she exhaled feeling breathless. All of the versions of the tales she'd read about the pair buzzed around her thoughts. It reminded her of something she'd learned long ago. "Beauty is a curse," the words whispered through her lips on their own. It was the truth. The more beautiful the woman- the greater the men who fell for the sake of her love.
Birkhoff was risking a lot to be with her. While he wouldn't be Cancelled, it just wasn't practical with how important he was, he would definitely be punished. With how much Amanda hated the computer genius Alicia could just imagine the horrors she would come up with to put him through. There was a reason she was known as the Inquisitor. Yet he braved it all just to be with her.
But now . . . now Samson had not only developed but acknowledged his feelings for her. Comparing her to Samon's hair in the story? Those were some mighty big words. Even so he knew that she would never be his. The look in his eyes as he'd spoken those last few words had been suffocating; there had been acceptance there along with determination. He wouldn't stop trying; that wasn't in his nature. Samson knew wanting her would lead to nothing but trouble, and despite that fact he had no intention of ignoring his newfound feelings.
Though the medication took away her pain it did nothing to alleviate her worry. Samson's unexpected feelings presented new problems to an already daunting equation. Would he continue to dig even if Amanda decided to inform him about the side project? There was no way of knowing what he'd do anymore; they'd gone into uncharted territory. Shit just got real. Alicia sighed, closing her eyes on the world. If only it were that easy.