Shady slammed into the bar's office an hour after their encounter, nearly startling Barney Ross when the door bounced off the wall. He squinted at her through a narrowed gaze and leaned back in his chair, "Didn't I just leave you in the gym?" She didn't answer, so he countered, "Since you're in here, I guess it means you've figured out how to avoid Lee's leg whip."
She made a face and stalked towards him, in a sweatshirt now. Her hair was pulled back into an athletic headband, and she slammed a piece of paper on his desk with a sharp slap. It lightly rattled the glass of brandy the boss had been nursing. "If you leave within the hour, you can beat her to Alaska." It was sudden and unintroduced.
He picked up the slip, glanced at it and then looked over the top at Powell with a raise of his eyes, "Where did you get this?" He demanded, flicking it with his hand.
Shady smiled a cocky grin at him, leaning a hip against the desk to cross her arms, "You're not the only one who knows how to skip-trace a person, Mr. Ross." She challenged.
He sat back in the chair, chuckling, "You called Lieu," and let the paper slide onto the keyboard.
"I did not call Lieu," she answered condescendingly. At his glare, she sighed and continued with a roll of her eyes, "Alright. Her precious GTO was the giveaway. She helped Pinkie in New Orleans, followed her to the new bar and stayed there for a while to help with repairs. She left New Mexico and drove it here to LA. Magnolia just put it in storage so it'd be nearby when she's done in Alaska," she gestured with a hand, "I recommended the storage facility and he let me know when she dropped it off."
Barney sighed, and massaged the bridge of his nose. "Why is this so damned important to you, Shady?"
"The better question is why it isn't as important to you?" She let that statement hang a moment before continuing, "You're miserable without her and you know it." When his frown grew more intense, Powell threw up her hands, "Fine. Sit on your ass and do nothing. But, mark my words, if you don't go after her, you are always, always going to wonder 'What If'?"
He crossed his arms over his chest, "Christmas know where you are?"
At the sudden change of subject, Shady frowned, "Well, no." She wrinkled her brow.
Then a voice behind her said, "Well, yes." She cringed, turning to face Lee in the doorway. He was leaning on the frame, arms crossed over his chest, a zip-up jacket covering his frame and running shoes. He cocked a brow, "You're supposed to be in the gym. And, if you leave one more time without permission," he wagged a finger at her, "there will be no shower fun for you tonight."
At that comment, Barney's mind sparked to life and he dropped the file he'd been holding to the floor beside his chair. Shower fun, and the image it conjured, was so real it took his breath away. His Magnolia, wet and soapy in his arms as the water cascaded between them. Heat pounced in his gut so ferociously that it threatened him slightly. Suddenly, Ross felt his chest constrict and he silently cursed Shady Powell and her audacious persistence.
He needed to cover his own raucous thoughts, so he commented with a heavy sigh and roll of his eyes, "I don't even want to know what that's about."
She looked over her shoulder with a gamine grin. Instead of a response, he pointed authoritatively toward the door, dismissing her. Shady didn't say another word, instead just pushing herself off Ross' desk and sauntering towards the door. She gave a pleading look at Christmas, who only jerked his head indicating she knew where it was she should be. With a rather loud sigh, Shady left.
Lee remained, lingering in the doorway. "I know you probably don't want to hear this, but the little pest is right about one thing." Though his manner was teasing, Ross understood the undertone of the statement clearly.
"Just one thing?" Barney countered. He reached for the glass of brandy and tossed back a sharp drink.
Christmas chuckled as he straightened up from his lounge, "If you don't go after her, you will always wonder." He paused, "Look at it this way; if she sends you packing, you have your answer. If she doesn't," he gave a Gaelic shrug, "well, you have your answer." He gave a nodding salute to his boss and then went to find his recalcitrant trainee, tromping down the hallway heavily.
Barney looked again at the piece of paper in Shady's distinctive scrawl, which rested on the keyboard of his computer. Sighing, he rubbed his face with a hand, only to check his watch. He cursed under his breath, suddenly having the sneaking suspicion that he could regret this for the rest of his life. Barney stood, and grabbed his jacket off the back of his chair roughly, rocking it slightly. Gathering his keys and his phone that he'd abandoned in the top drawer of the desk, he reached for the brandy and sharply drank the rest of it, only to slam out the office like a bull in a china closet.
Shady and Lee watched from the door that connected the bar to the gym, which was propped open, as Ross locked the office door behind him. They could see Ross cradling his cell between his shoulder and ear as he checked his watch. He was moving quickly towards the back exit of the bar where he kept his motorcycle parked, shrugging into his jacket, only to slide the aviators over his eyes casually.
Powell turned a brilliant smile to her partner as they heard Barney speak into the phone, "Tower? Yeah. I need to file a last minute flight plan."
Her flight didn't leave until the late morning. With the GTO in storage, Magnolia had enough time to call an Uber and pick up some supplies for her travels at the nearest department store. Most of her belongings she'd left at her New Orleans place, and she had no intention of taking the time to stop off to retrieve any of them; intent on getting out into the open Alaskan air and drowning her problems in a lonely bottle of whiskey, and perhaps a bath. It had been a long, almost eight months now, and her life had been nothing but a rollercoaster of emotional breakdowns and work. And, the weeks in New Mexico fixing Lieu's bar had drained whatever reserves of life she'd managed to stow away.
Landing in Juneau after an uneventful flight left her anxious to escape the city. With her new belongings packed securely in a new duffle bag and her combat gear as it always had been, she'd rented a truck in Juneau and tossed them into the bed. The drive from the airstrip to her place took a little over four hours, so she didn't reach the secluded cabin and backdrop of mountains until well after nine o'clock that night. At that point, she was exhausted and starving, and in sore need of that aforementioned bath and whiskey.
Once her headlights splayed against the cabin, the Alaskan night deep and cold, she parked the truck and shoved the keys into the pocket of her coat. She gathered her duffle and her gear, and hauled it up the steps of the cabin's front porch. Whatever had possessed her to buy these ridiculous, pointed-toe stiletto boots suddenly evaded her, because they clacked against the hard, untreated wood obnoxiously. Chalking it up to a frivolous, last-minute splurge in civilization, she unlocked the door and staggered into the darkness, suddenly remembering the business of the cabin as her newfound compatriots had graced it only a few weeks previous. Now she really needed a drink.
Dropping her things at the door, she strolled into the dark living room, not bothering with the lights, in her jeans and flannel button-up shirt. She tipped the bill of her Minnesota Twins ball-cap back slightly to scratch her forehead. The quietness was welcomingly deceitful, and as she dropped onto the couch, she didn't bother to shed the wool waist-coat. Instead, she fell back against the couch's arm, and closed her eyes, sighing heavily. Her head rolled back, and she let one leg drape off the side of the couch, content to relish in the somber peace.
Across from her, a lamp switched on abruptly and threw the room into mysterious shadows. She snapped to life, grunting, and whipped the Beretta out from behind her as if it were an extension of her arm. Scrambling up on her knees, she steadied the weapon in the general direction of the intruder, who had the nerve to chuckle at her.
"Hello, Magnolia."
For some reason, she didn't holster the weapon. Instead, her brow dropped into a glaring furrow, and she stared hard at the figure who was still residing in the shadows. She suddenly saw a hand come into the light, and she recognized the familiar ring. Her throat constricted.
"How did you get in?" She barked.
He snorted, "Like I can't pick a lock. Or disable an alarm system." She didn't drop the weapon from his body, still shocked by his presence. Instead, it took him leaning forward out of the dimness to at least reassure her this wasn't a nightmare. He continued, "Or disarm a woman with a weapon," he shook his head, "Put that away before you get hurt." His chuckle was sarcastic and taunting.
She huffed out a sigh, tossed the gun on the coffee table before her, and covered her face with one hand. Falling back into her previous position, she grunted. Then, peering out from behind her hand, she glared at him. "Well, enable the alarm system on your way back out. I didn't invite you, and I'm too tired to deal with you." She finished it with another frustrated sigh.
"Tough." She sat up at that one, her narrowed glare boring into his body like fire. Leaning forward again, he pulled from the side of the chair a folder, and tapped it with his finger. He continued, "You and me? We have unfinished business." Even from across the way, she could smell his cologne. Its scent had seemed to linger on her skin for days after their first encounter, despite the shower. Or maybe it was just the images it evoked that drove her mad. His lips quirked into a thin-lipped smirk, "And, before I leave here, we're going to finish."
With a flick of his wrist, he tossed the folder onto the coffee table between them. Her eyes darted to it, and then considered him as he crossed his arms over a muscular chest, long-sleeves rolled up to his elbows, looking haughty, as usual. As it slid to a stop, she recognized it immediately. It was her personnel file – the file that the CIA had given Barney.
Ross watched her closely, and she flicked another look up at him. "Where did you get that?"
"Well, where do you think I got it?" Barney was sarcastic, cocking a disbelieving brow at her.
She fell against the back of the couch, draped a leg over the other, and crossed her arms at the chest. Staring dead ahead into nothing, again with that polished, military rigidity, she replied, "Then you have everything you need," she countered passively.
He shook his head, waving a hand in front of him to dismiss her words. "I want to know what's not in there." He pointed at it, and she glared a look at him that was enough to shoot daggers into his very soul. Her eyes were suddenly every ounce of the steely-blue that he so admired.
"You've done your homework," she said coldly, "so you tell me."
He clenched his jaw. "Damn it, Magnolia, don't be so fricking difficult. You know good and well what I'm talking about." His tone was warning, and she noticed it immediately. Having opened her mouth to retort, she clamped it closed again.
Magnolia didn't know why she was even entertaining him in this fashion. He had dismissed her as if she'd been nothing at the bar and now had the audacious nerve to break into her home and wait for her here in the middle of nowhere. He had no business demanding anything of her, and he knew it – she was not about to play his games, again. It seemed like every time she did, she lost.
Instead, morbid curiosity fueled her next statement, "What makes you think there's something else?" she questioned cautiously.
He rolled his eyes and sighed, "You and Shady are so much alike it hurts," Barney explained. He rubbed the back of his neck and sat forward. "She reminded me that before I'd let her join the team, she had to come clean with me." He looked over at Steele with a knowing look. "About everything."
Her eyes widened, ever so slightly. Heat flared through her gut. She felt emotion clamp her throat closed like a vice. She had the fleeting vision of the night she'd boxed with Shady, when he'd forced his hand, and then again in Shazibe. Actually, Magnolia Steele had had quite enough of Barney Ross and his high-handed arrogance. They were no longer on the job, so she no longer had to answer to him.
So, she cocked a brow and sat back again. "No."
He looked surprised, as one of his brows shot into the air. "Excuse me?" He didn't move, but his tone told her exactly what he thought of her defiance. She leveled another cold stare at him.
She spat back, "I said, no. Stay if you want but we aren't doing this. Now or ever." She slapped her hands against the cushions of her couch, then pushed herself up quickly. She whirled on her stiletto heels away from him.
Mags had in mind to make a grand exit and stalk up the stairs to her room, where she'd shut him out and lock herself away from his questions and his probing glances. Only problem with that was Barney Ross, and the way he had cleverly outflanked her in her own place. To get upstairs, she'd have to walk past the chair where he sat, and she doubted he'd let her go without an explanation. Maybe he would. Maybe, he wouldn't. A part of her wanted to smack him upside the head and leave him there, but another part of her wished he would force her to stay.
She took in a sharp breath, gave him a nod, and decided that upstairs was the safest bet she had. Lifting her chin defiantly, she marched passed him and headed towards the staircase. As she expected, he flung his hand out and seized her wrist rather tightly, jarring her backwards to a stop.
He didn't even look up at her, just stared ahead. "I want you, Magnolia. I want you more than I've wanted anything in a long damn time."
His statement made her pause. But, after a passing moment, she snorted and rolled her eyes, jerking her hand free of him. She whirled back half a step, rubbing the spot where he'd gripped her tightly. Glaring, she responded, "I offered myself to you in Shazibe. I did everything but draw you a damn map. You had your chance, and you walked out." She shook her head.
"And like it or not, I told you why."
She blinked at him and crossed her arms. "Well, I don't really see how it's changed," she responded imperiously, "We're still right back where we started now, aren't we?" She again turned on her sharp heel, and threw her hand through the air. "We're done here."
She hadn't clacked across the floor three steps when he was out of the chair and in front of her. She had to pull up quickly to stop herself from ramming into him. Instead, she maneuvered away from him and stalked towards the stairs in a huff.
With another quick lunge, he seized her forearm this time, and pulled her up. She jerked to a stop, fumbled backwards a few graceful steps in her boots, and he whirled her around before her back could slam against his body. Putting a hand on his chest, she pushed him away, until he grabbed her wrist and pulled it down. She glared at him and pulled against his hold, trying to struggle out, and he mumbled, "Stop it," before he kissed her.
Her mind suddenly screeched to a halt, the world thrown into a kaleidoscope of emotion and thoughts. She should wheel back and smack him across the face for forcing himself on her – she should push him away and scream in his face that he had no rights to her after the way he'd treated her. She should be thinking of all the wrong things he'd done and said – all the wrong moments and all the wrong memories.
Instead, all she could do was relax and coax him on, sighing ever so briefly and feel herself slowly slip into oblivion as his hand released her wrist and his fingers buried themselves into her hair, stroking behind her ear carefully. All she could think about was the fact that it was dark, the air was cool, and he smelled terrifically of jet-fuel and cologne. Her pulse quickened beneath his hard grip. And, in the back of her mind, she was half-aware that her toes were curled inside her ridiculously expensive boots.
He couldn't think. Couldn't breathe anything but her. She was a swirling mass of perfume, fresh air, and heat. His brain began to calculate all the different scenarios of how and where he should take her, right here in this very moment, and never think about it again. He should've been thinking about her smart-mouth and her lippy defiance, and the fact that she was nothing more than a young and reckless harridan that was a renegade – that he was set in his ways and didn't belong with her, that this was wrong in all the right ways and right in all the wrong ones.
He felt her respond, and when she did; he pulled her closer at the waist to bridge the distance between their bodies. Suddenly aware of the fact that she was still enraged, she jerked her head back from him and shook her head, pushing against his chest again. He was half expecting to brace for her to slap his face, but instead he found himself releasing her.
Ross saw in her eyes a mutinous stare sharp enough to pierce air. "This really isn't helping your case." She said, solidly. She was catching her breath as quickly as he was trying to find his, his throat constricting and cutting off the supply of air to his lungs. Her face was bright red. Only once a moment passed between them did he respond with a roll of his eyes.
Barney laughed at her, "Lie to yourself all you want, Flowers. But, don't try lying to me. Like you said, you did everything but draw the map." He crossed his arms, "And, all you have to do to get me to follow it is tell me what's not in that damn file." He thumbed over his shoulder towards the folder still sitting on the table behind them, cocking his brows high.
Steele crossed her arms over her chest, jutting a hip defiantly at him. Her narrowed gaze was harsh. She looked past him to the file, then jerked her gaze back to his awaiting form. She wasn't sure what she wanted to do with him – or, what she wanted in general. Did she want to be left alone? Or, did she want him to stay and promise her all of the things she'd been waiting for since meeting him? It continued to circle back to that question: What did she want? Or, rather, whom did she want?
She could hear his voice in her head, echoing across her mind like gunfire across a chasm. She closed her eyes and sighed quietly, envisioning that night in Shazibe once more as if it were happening all over again, "I value three things, Magnolia." In her mind's eye, he put up a hand and began counting off his fingers, "Honesty, loyalty and integrity."
When she opened her eyes to see him still expectantly standing there, she shook her head. "No." She waved her hand through the air as if dismissing the memory. Shaking her head again, Steele crossed into the kitchen, shrugging off the peacoat to drape it over the back of a nearby chair as she did so. She flipped on the nearby lights and moved to the counter on the island, digging under it for a bottle of aged whiskey. Her head was beginning to throb again, and her eyes were burning – from the threat of tears or exhaustion, she wasn't sure which.
Barney cursed himself, sighed, and raked his hand through his hair, watching her uncork the bottle and lean against the island, uncertain. And, he cursed Shady Powell for giving him hope again when he had no business hoping for anything – and Lee, too. When Steele didn't look back at him, he damned himself. This woman didn't want him. She wanted her selfishness and her insecurity, as well as the safety of her past, where no one knew who she was or wasn't. He had half a notion to go and leave her to drink herself into oblivion and live her life however alone and stupidly that she wanted to, but as soon as the idea came to him, it left.
He couldn't leave her here to drown in her own past. He'd done that to himself, and had ended up like this. Ross cared for her too much to leave her alone and burdened – he would give anything if she'd just trust him and let him share it. He knew if she didn't, she would never trust anyone again, and then she would be wasted. For him, or anyone else.
And then there was him. The words that Lee spoke at the table that night in Shazibe came at him like a barrage of opposing gunfire – Shady drove him crazy, and he was the happiest he'd ever been. The thought encompassed his brain like scouting birds, waiting to prey on his thoughts and take from him every ounce of reason that he possessed. He glanced at Steele, lost in thought – she certainly did make him crazy, in more avenues than one. Everything about her offset him and challenged his resolve. She made him stronger in the way she made him weak, and he suddenly knew everything he ever wanted without even knowing anything. He could just stare at her forever and never be the same.
Yep, he realized. She'd absolutely done everything but send him to a padded room, and he had enjoyed every single minute of it. It was morbidly delicious and also demented on so many levels, Ross doubted they could be counted.
But, it didn't matter. Crazy or not, he was Barney Ross. He'd said it before regarding this woman – she may have been good, but he was no sham. He wasn't a quitter, either. He'd stand here until morning if it'd get her to talk. He just had to figure out what would make her talk.
A sudden thought came to his mind. So how did you get Magnolia Steele to open up when she didn't want to? How had she gotten Shady in the ring that day? He smiled maliciously at himself; somewhat knowing he would regret the decision later.
Stalking towards the kitchen, Barney grabbed his leather jacket off the back of a nearby bar stool and threw it over his arm. Once through the doorway of the kitchen, he pitched his hands up in mock give. "Alright, Steele, you win. I'll go," she paused mid-drink from the bottle, blinking stoically to collect her thoughts. He shook his head, turning away from her and saying, "I just never thought of you like that."
The comment caught her attention, and he heard the bottle clack against the counter. "Never thought of me like what?" She challenged him rudely.
He shrugged, not looking back, eyes on the door. "As a coward," he retorted darkly.
She gaped at the back of his head, standing straight up to slap the counter sharply. Her hand flared with sudden pain, still not fully recovered from her row with Aza. "What the hell did you just say?" Her tone pitched high, in disbelief.
He paused, refraining from a grin, and looked back over his shoulder to find her blazingly glaring in his face, "I said I would have never thought you were a coward," he smarmed.
Magnolia shot him another go-to-hell look as she crossed her arms and shook her head at him. She snorted and nodded her understanding, "Funny. Think I don't know what you're doing?" she challenged him with a raised brow of expectancy.
He turned back to her, raising his own brows in speculative questioning. "And what is that?"
She rolled her eyes, smacked the counter again, and jabbed a sharp finger at him. Leaning across the counter, she growled lightly, "You're trying to bait me like some bully in the schoolyard. But it's not going to work."
Barney grinned at her, chuckling. "You made it work with Powell," he retorted snidely.
"Yeah," she groused, "but she had something to prove." She righted again, put a hand on her hip, and waited for his reply with a smart look.
He narrowed his gaze at her, and then cocked his head daringly to the side, looking at her as if she was completely – and ridiculously – challenged. "And you don't?"
He could have reached across the island and struck her and it wouldn't have made as much of an impression. She glared at him with something bordering hatred, almost in disbelief that he would just continue to push and push and push and not give. He figured she was used to winning these types of arguments, and that she was pretty comfortable, holding the power card. Well, he'd just revoked it, and she did not like it at all.
Barney didn't wait for her reply, instead just nodded at her and turned sharply away on his booted heel. He began his trek back towards the door, stopping long enough to retrieve the file from the coffee table. He wasn't sure how slowly he could walk to make it look like he wasn't dragging his feet. He hoped he'd finally pushed the right buttons and would get her to concede the battle.
Magnolia was lividly burning across the island from him. Why couldn't the stubborn man just accept her as she was? It was an unfair advantage he had over her, because he'd seen everything about her in that blasted file and she didn't know a damn thing about him. Besides that he was stubborn and used to getting his way, and way too confident with his haughty authority. She wondered if he'd ever stop pestering her, but when he moved towards the door after taking the file, she felt her heart pitch into her gut and then scream through her body cavity into her throat. Why did he feel this need to strip layer after layer to get to her core?
Subconsciously, she knew damned well why. That core, beneath all those layers, was her heart, and she'd given him a piece of it and he wasn't about to give it back. It wouldn't matter how hard she tried to pry it out of his hands – he had it, and he wasn't going to let it go. It was his way. Her gut rolled inside her abdomen and she groaned.
"Fine," she yelled at him, waving her hand through the air, "You want the whole gory tale, then fine." Turning on her heel, she moved to the cupboard over the sink and retrieved another glass. She stalked back to the island, slammed it on the counter with a clack, and crossed her arms in front of her.
Ross said a silent prayer of thanks, rolling his eyes to the ceiling before closing them in relief. Before she could change her mind, he headed back to the island, and took a seat on one of the bar stools. She poured the drink silently; staring at the amber liquid as if he'd just dealt her a death sentence. She stoically passed it along the counter to him, and he stopped it with a hand.
Steele tossed back her own shot, head lingering back slightly. She sighed an exaggerated breath. Righting her head, she fell against the adjoining counter, which was the sink, and crossed her arms over her stomach. Taking a deep breath, she began as she looked up at him. "I was three months into an eighteen month tour in Iraq with a group of Marine sharpshooters," she rubbed the bridge of her nose, "We were nicknamed the Renegades," she snorted. "He came into my life when I was twenty, young, and stupid." She smiled a little, then shook her head, "He was everything I found attractive in a man. Tall, well-built, knew his way around weapons. Dark hair, blue eyes and…"
"Yeah, you don't have to give me that much detail," he smirked, taking another drink.
She shot him a prolific glare, "You want the story, you get everything. You don't get to edit," Magnolia snapped. He nodded, appropriately chagrined. "Like I said, he was charming and educated and all that," she looked into her glass and cocked a rueful brow, "He was also my commanding officer."
Magnolia paused after that, crossed in a stride to the island, and poured another drink. She didn't taste it, preferring instead to stare at it. Leaning her elbows on the counter, she was lost in her drink as she remembered. "I was flattered when he took an interest in me. And, when that interest developed into something more? I didn't say 'no.'" She dared a look up at him.
"Fraternizing with a superior officer, Magnolia?" He questioned her, unbelieving.
"Yeah, it's a habit," she snarked with a smirk, "But, anyway, it was mutual, like I said. And, it was all good for a while. Then, it got," she searched for the right word, rolling her eyes to the ceiling and darting a quick, off-set look to the left; away from him. "Dark. He would make a command decision that was less than popular and make sure that I had to agree. My team thought I'd lost my mind." She looked at him directly, a wistful smile that didn't reach her eyes, "That's how I got my nickname. They told me I was stainless because nothing stuck to me since I did whatever he said. Little did they know it was for good reason." She then pinched the bridge of her nose again, "The one time I did question his order, he caught me in the supply tent." Magnolia began rolling the sleeve up on her left arm. Midway up, she dropped her elbow on the counter with a thunk and extended it out to him, "He gave me this."
Barney tensed, and his blood ran cold before it exploded with enraged heat. The image came to mind of his Flowers, young and recklessly inexperienced, pinned by a larger man. All that he could see, however, was her trying to be the good soldier; complying in that polished and stoic passivity that she'd shown before - and then the blade of a very long knife. The rest of the image he had to push from his mind before he whipped one of the bar stools across the kitchen in a fit of rage.
He clenched his jaw, grip tightening around the whiskey glass. "He did this to you?" His voice was low, cold and emotionless, and he grabbed her wrist, gesturing to her arm with his other hand. "Did he force you?"
She shook her head, "No, but he made sure I remembered who was in command." She couldn't look Ross in the eye, "I tried to fight. I had bruises for weeks," she said quietly, running the tip of her finger along the scar carefully. "He was so quick and clinical. The K-bar blade ripped the skin like a hot knife through butter." Her chin lifted as she spoke, "I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of hearing me cry out. I bit my lip so hard I could taste my own blood." Her voice was bitter but proud, "The only thing he saw were a few tears." Steele's other hand pressed the top of the counter, "It satisfied him. As for me, I lied on my medical exam. Told them I gashed it while working under a tank." She sighed, then after a brief pause, she withdrew her arm from his grasp and worked the sleeve back down over it. The change to the tone of her voice was mercurial. "Guess it's how I knew what was happening to Lieu." Magnolia shrugged, "I'd been there. Trying to cover the bruises with my bandana; wearing long sleeved uniform shirts in the heat of the desert. Anything to keep the others from knowing what was happening."
He couldn't believe it. "And the two of you were still intimate?"
Steele jerked her eyes up to him, suddenly alert. There was an awareness in her gaze, as well as a flicker of concern. "It stopped him from making it hell for the others." Her tone was stoic, but also concerned, as if it had happened yesterday instead of years ago in her past.
Ross grabbed at the file, which he'd tossed back on the counter, and flipped it open, "Once I find the name…" He wasn't aware that he'd growled out the statement, but when she flung her hand out, he remembered he had.
She slapped his hand, and closed the file sharply, "No, you most certainly will not." She chastised him with a harsh look of authority, "You're not going to do anything to him anymore than Gunner will do something to Sly." She waved off the idea, "It was a long time ago."
It didn't matter if it was a thousand years ago. She was wrong on that point, but Barney would keep it to himself. The last thing he needed was to get into a raging fight with her regretful and loyal side. As he felt the itching in his fist, he mentally struck her former C.O. He might even get a few lessons from a certain Brit so this bastard would know exactly what he'd put his Magnolia through. No matter how long it took him, Ross would see that the man got what was coming to him if he was still around. Barney had friends in low places. Since he knew Sly had been handled, however, he'd keep that little piece of information to himself.
Magnolia continued her tale with a quiet breath, "Then came the assignment that blew the lid off everything," she covered her face with her hands, "Like Shady knew the warehouse was a trap? I knew this mission was wrong. The intel had come last-minute for a four day recon out in the middle of nowhere. Two traveling days, two field days. I knew it sounded wrong. But, he had put me in a position where I had no choice – I was the senior officer of our team, and it was my op to run. I either followed orders, or we all were all headed to court martial."
Ross noticed a slight tremor in her hand, and now, a distant look had replaced the sharp one on her face. "It was terrible. Like nothing I've ever experienced. We were a day out on foot, headed to a rendezvous point and were ambushed by well-armed zealots. It was as if they knew we were coming," her tone was soft, "We were only an eight-man unit, and there were dozens of them." She paused a moment, looking out the window of the kitchen, one arm around her abdomen while the other held her glass.
She continued, "We lost one before we even knew what happened." She closed her eyes, reliving the nightmare as she spoke, "We managed to get to cover and hold them off, but not before two more of the unit were mortally wounded. The five of us that were still alive made it back to camp, our dead in tow. One of those five didn't make it out of the infirmary. Two more were wounded seriously enough it ended their tours." She nodded and looked back to him with a light and painful smirk, "That left me and my second-in-command. He laid the blame at my door, and I took it."
She swallowed the last shot she'd poured, but didn't pour anymore. She winced slightly as it burned down her already-raw throat. The tremor in her hands returned, and she braced them against the counter to collect her thoughts. After a moment, she rubbed her temple with one hand, and Barney moved the bottle to run a finger over the top of her other. She didn't move. "Just a little more, sweetheart," he coaxed tenderly, "You're almost done."
Mags nodded, then looked away and bit her lower lip. "The C.O. offered me a Captain's Mast, but I saw through that. If I left it to him to be judge and jury, then the fraternization didn't come out. That would mean his career was still intact. Me?" She shrugged, and laughed sarcastically, "It didn't really matter. I was in the crapper any way I went. My arm was pretty screwed up and needed tons of rehab, and by then I had an attitude problem and a bad field record." She pulled the bottle back and took another draw from it, this time chuckling lightly, "I was in the O-Club when a junior officer mouthed off about the blown op and I went ballistic." She looked up at Barney, "Unbelievable, right? With me and my flawless attitude," she joked, then turned serious as her face sobered up after a moment's pause. "I broke his jaw." Steele blew out a breath then, "It snowballed after that. I spent the rest of my tour in the brig, until they could get me stateside for a court martial. I didn't contest, and got the Big Chicken Dinner – bad conduct discharge." She shrugged again, "Then, I got good at what I do, and here I am." She cocked a smirk at him.
Barney sat back on the stool, letting his hands drag slightly across the counter as he absorbed her tale. Shady Powell had been right all along, again. There was much more to Magnolia Steele than he had been willing to admit, but he was suddenly grateful that there was. The tale explained so much of her personality – her distrust of anyone in charge but her, the "good soldier" routine that had resulted in physical retribution, and a man that she'd obviously had feelings for who betrayed her. It all made such perfect sense that he felt stupid for missing it.
After a moment of silence passed between them, she walked around the island, closer to Barney but not close enough to touch him. Standing in front of him, she looked at him – and, he couldn't tell if she was tired, drunk, or fending off tears. "So, now you know what's not in there, and why I am the way I am." She pointed at the file sheepishly, "And I'm no closer to living up to your high standards of honesty, loyalty and integrity than I was in Shazibe."
The statement hung in the air like a dark cloud. She sighed again, but didn't look back at him. Quietly, she asked him, "So will you leave now?"
Barney could only just stare at her, standing there in ridiculous heels and jeans that were tight in all the right places, and wonder how on earth she had gone on so long without someone having noticed. He just lightly smiled at her and shook his head, "C'mere, Flowers."
He crooked a finger at her, beckoning her to come. She narrowed a gaze, cutting him a sideways look. "Why?"
He smiled at her now, "Because I asked you to," he countered. She slowly came to him, one foot staggeringly slow in front of the other, hips swaying slightly with her arms wrapped around her middle still. When she was almost next to him, he reached for her and grabbed her hips pulling her between his legs, lacing his fingers through the belt-loops on her jeans.
He began, reaching behind her to run his fingers beneath her overly curly ponytail, "Now, let me tell you a couple of things I know." He leaned in, "I knew you had integrity when you agreed to go back after Aza. It's not easy playing second fiddle when you're used to leading the band, Flowers. But, you bucked up and turned out to be a key asset in bringing Makembe down." She would have interrupted, but a finger over her lips stopped her.
He continued, shaking his head at her attempt, "As for loyalty? Well, you showed me that when you tried to defend Shady against Lee. In spite of your differences and the thorn she'd been in your side, you came up with that cock-and-bull story to try to keep her out of trouble," Ross explained.
Magnolia shrugged and looked away from him, knowing that Shady had deliberately put herself in harm's way with Barney that night in the warehouse. He knew she had, too. But, they both knew that's what you did for your team, and at that point, Shady had been Magnolia's team – they had all been her compatriots, just as they were now. Shady had known it then, and as much as Ross hated to admit it, so did he. What was most important, however, was that Magnolia knew it, too.
She flicked a look back at him that was harder, but infinitely cautious. "Fine, Barney. But, it seems to me we've come full circle, right back to Shazibe," she raised her brows at him, lifted her hand and pointed her index finger straight up at the ceiling, emphasizing the number 'one', "Honesty still being your main problem," Steele tacked on.
He shook his head, "You do complain too damn much," he rolled his eyes, "How much more honest do you think you can be with me than what you just were? If there's more, then you'd better get to it." He smiled into her face now, suddenly aware that a familiar electric buzz blasted over his body like hot air.
Her brow crinkled in confusion, as did her nose. "How do you know I didn't just make up some bullshit story to get you out of my house?" She raised her brows to challenge him, and jerked a thumb towards the door. However, he noticed the glimmer of wetness to her eyes, and sighed.
"Because these tell me otherwise," he responded quietly, wiping tears from the corner of her eye with a thumb. "And, scars don't lie." He lifted up her left hand in his own, and ran his thumb over her wrist. Then, without much thought, Ross brought her hand to his lips and kissed her palm tenderly before holding her hand along his jaw.
Steele's breath caught, and she bristled slightly against him. She couldn't remember a time that a man had been so tender and gentle and concerned with her feelings. Actually, she couldn't remember anyone being so kind and gentle to her since she'd been a young child. She released her pent-up breath and smiled softly at him, then reached to cup her hands behind his neck. She pulled him forward, and rested her forehead against his, nuzzling her nose against his own. Their breathing fell into sync.
Barney spoke again, his voice deep and husky, "I told you, Magnolia. I want you." It was more of a breath than a statement, and it sent waves of heightened desire through her body. He wrapped his arms around her in a tight embrace, and took a breath of her hair. She tried to swallow a shaky breath, but was not fast enough.
She was hesitant and quiet, "Barney, I've got baggage," she said softly, looking away from him. When he didn't release her, she pulled back from his embrace to stare into his eyes. "If you're looking for the perfect woman who has it all together, then you've got the wrong one."
"Who the hell doesn't have baggage?" he chuckled. "Besides, perfection is way over-rated."
She smiled at him lightly, "I'm arrogant, head-strong, and a real pain in the ass," She was running her hands over his shoulders as she spoke, and her eyes fell from his to look down at some spot on her shirt which at the moment seemed more fascinating than that ruggedly handsome face, "but, I'm a hell of a shot, and I know how to cook."
He chuckled before he continued. "You sound a hell of a lot like someone else I know," he rounded his hand across the small of her back and she took his left hand, interweaving her fingers against his own, relatively unconcerned with the brace. "And you know something? It's what makes her a damn fine Expendable," Barney responded, finally. He took her hands in his own and interlaced their fingers.
She was surprised, and her face showed it. Her brows shot up a mile on her face, and she reeled back slightly to absorb his statement. She blinked a few times before responding with a subtle and educated, "Oh." Then, she smiled at him and his heart exploded in sudden and unexpected exuberance.
Her voice dropped into a low and quiet rumble, not yet sure of how to compose an intelligent statement. "I…you…you mean, you want me to join your team," As if it were a realization she hadn't expected, she nodded slowly, her eyes darting to their interlaced hands. She was quiet a long moment, and when she didn't look back to him, he took her chin between his fingers and pulled her gaze to his face. "Barney, I don't -"
Barney shook his head, interrupting her statement. "Magnolia," he said deeply. He let her cheek fill his palm and he stroked his thumb along her jawline, "What I mean is that I'm dangerously close to falling crazy in love with you." Even as he said it, he could feel the hesitancy in his own voice, "And, I've got to know that it's not some flirtation or challenge for you. This has to be right – a true reciprocation of the feeling, on both sides."
She was speechless for only a moment, and then managed a quiet, "Really?" For some odd reason unbeknownst to him, she looked genuinely surprised, as if he'd just told her the sky was green instead of blue. He reached up to take the ball-cap from her hair and tossed it on the counter behind him.
He nodded, pulling gently at one of the curls along her face. "Really." Her blue eyes bored into his soul easily, as if it were right there in his hand instead of buried within him. Every part of his body was on fire. "But, you should know something, Flowers," he sighed roughly, "That compared to the others, I'm kind of an old dog." Without much though, he reached behind her head and pulled her hair free, letting it cascade over her shoulders. He tossed the binder off to the side, and she quirked a grin at him.
Then, she shrugged slightly and sidled up closer to him to cup his face in her hands. "It seems I tend to have that problem," she chuckled, "But, that's alright. From what I hear, old dogs don't stray too far from home," she winked at him, "if you can find a good one, anyway."
He dropped his eyes from her face, and began a slow, deliberate action of unbuttoning her shirt, pushing it down over her shoulder; happily, revealing the tiniest of bras. Pleasantly surprised, he leaned forward to kiss the nape of her neck and moved the strap down over her shoulder. She cocked her head to the side, and let it fall against his own as he continued his work on her neck. Ever so slowly, he moved his hands down her shoulders within the sleeves of the shirt to undo the clasp of her lingerie top. Once it released, he pulled back from her, only to find her cock a silent and challenging brow at him.
He gave her a slight upturn of his lips, "I'm pretty set in my ways. Could make for some huge fights," with exaggerated movements, he slipped her button-down off her arms, and slowly pulled it off of her body, tossing it to the side as if it were nothing. The wry smile on her lips was enough to throw him to oblivion, and she slid the other strap of her bra off her shoulder.
Now with her top fully exposed, Ross had the sudden thought that he had been far too drunk to appreciate her that first night. The way she just stood there was gorgeous, and she wrapped an arm around his neck and pulled at the collar of his shirt for him to do the same. She helped it over his head and let it fall from her hands onto the counter, not daring to break eye contact.
She wet her lips then, finally answering, "Yeah, but that'll mean some great make-up sex in the end." She waggled her brows at him, and he reached out a hand to wrap around the small of her back delicately. He held her tightly, and with the other hand, he lightly touched her breast to rest his hand over her heart.
With a slight jerk, he pulled her as close to him as she could get, and leaned in to speak quietly against her ear, "Once you say you're in this, there's no backing out, Magnolia. So make damn sure." This was almost a growl, and with her skin on his own, she gasped slightly and moved her hands down his back. Her fingers traced a path over body art that made him even more unique, and he relished the gesture.
When she pulled back slightly to look at him, she smirked. "I don't back away from a challenge, Chief," she teased him and grabbed at the buckle of his belt with her fingers. Working it loose, she added, "I thought you would have figured that out by now," and with that, she threw her arms around his neck, sealing her fate with a deep kiss that ravaged his very soul.
Ross broke it off, looking into blue eyes that made his heart register against his rib-cage in a rush. She returned his favor and kissed the nape of his neck delicately, and he leaned his head back to allow her the task. After a moment, he grabbed her shoulders and shuffled her back a step to stare her in the eye.
"I haven't heard the words yet, Magnolia."
Her brows shot up and she grinned cheekily at him, rolling her eyes sarcastically to put a hand on her hip. "Oh, you mean, like maybe I'm kind of crazy in love with you?" Steele giggled at him now as if she'd manifested into a schoolgirl instead of the lethal mercenary he'd known her to be. Once she reached for his hand, he gave it to her, and she crooked a finger at him to follow. "Aren't those the lyrics to a song?" She tacked on smartly.
Without another word, he closed the distance between them and grabbed Magnolia by the waist. He was about to kiss her, when instead he dropped a shoulder and pressed it into her abdomen, only to haul her up and over his shoulder. She hit hard with an oomph and a gasped comment, "Ross!" She dared hotly, "Just because Shady lets Christmas go all caveman doesn't mean you can." She pushed against his back for release and glowered at him, "Put me down."
Barney plucked the whiskey bottle from the counter, and stalked out of the kitchen, slapping the lights as he did so. Once in the living room, he grabbed the gun she'd discarded on the table and slipped it into the waist of his pants, before he moved towards the stairs. He asked smartly, "You know one of the reasons Christmas carries her like this?" Before she could answer, he gave her one swift swat across the butt, "Makes for easy access." She gave a quick cry of indignation, but before Magnolia could rail at him, he tacked on, "It also makes it easier to get you into bed. I don't have to wait on you to catch up."
At that, Magnolia's delighted laughter filled the room over his shoulder. He deposited her on the stairs, where she took his hand and guided him up the remaining steps until they breached the top. Once there, she took him to the end of the hall, backed against the door, and fumbled for the knob behind her as she cocked a brow at him. Once open, she stepped aside and crossed her arms as he entered.
When he was fully inside, she kicked the door closed behind her, and gestured to the bed in the corner. Before he could protest, she crossed to it, kicking off the high heeled boots and dropping her pants, revealing a sweet little navy blue G-string. She heard Barney's curse and Magnolia smiled.
As she flopped down, she rolled onto her side, propping an elbow on the mattress. With a shake of her head, the riotous mass of curls that had always been her adversary became a siren's call for Barney Ross. Seeing the lust in his eyes, Magnolia crooked a finger at him, smiling dangerously as she did.
"See something you like, Chief?"
The sound of the bottle hitting the floor was the only answer she needed.