MEETINGS, GREETINGS, & DECISIONS
Donovan awoke from a fairly light sleep. He glanced at the bedside clock and saw that it was almost seven. Damn it. He had overslept. Either that, or Pax had shut off the alarm. Bitch. He noticed that she was laid out beside him, the covers pulled securely over her shoulders. Sleeping, she was actually very demure, innocent almost. He imagined this was what she looked like as a child. He shook it off and slid out of bed. He had a visit to make, one that he should have made last night, but he and Pax had gotten a little…carried away. Damn it again. He didn't take much time searching out his clothing. He grabbed the first items he saw which were a tee shirt and a pair of ratty blue jeans. After he made his visit, he would return home and get himself together properly. Get myself together. What a thought. It's not happening, not like this. The moment Donovan had stepped out the door, Pax raised her body up into a sitting position. She had hidden the bird shit bug under the pillow. While Donovan was out scouting around, she had her own visit to make.
* * *
Remy had opened the door to make her exit to take the baby to Renata's. In the process, she ran smack into Donovan's chest. She gasped a little and stepped back. The moment Anastasia saw her father, she squealed happily and began reaching for him. He smiled at her gently and took her into his arms. God he loved this little girl so damn much it overwhelmed him. He fixed his dark eyes on Remy's face and waited for her to say something, but she was a little hesitant. She was still a bit pissed off about his girlfriend/lover/fuck buddy, whatever she was this week. He had also neglected to come see his child last night and she was pretty ticked about that as well. Sensing he wanted to talk, she stepped back into the apartment as he followed behind. When she had the door closed behind them, she turned toward Donovan and saw that he had taken the baby over to the couch. She sat on his lap and babbled at him, trying to tell him all about her Aunt Renny's new puppy. Donovan hung on her every word, as if he knew exactly what she was talking about. Without a word, Remy moved over to her phone to call in. She had a feeling that she wouldn't make in to work today. She knew he had something on his mind, but she allowed him to visit with their daughter first. Whatever they needed to discuss could wait for a few moments. She turned and walked toward her bedroom to give them the privacy they needed.
After some time had passed, Remy heard a soft knock at her bedroom door. She had actually been dozing, but didn't realize it. She struggled to sit up and almost didn't make it before he opened the door and peeked inside. "Remy, can we talk?"
She wiped the sleep out of her eyes and nodded. "Yeah, I think we need to, actually. I thought you were coming yesterday afternoon. What happened?"
There was a pointed innuendo buried within her words that he didn't care for. She knew what happened, why play coy? "There's been something going on and I couldn't get away. Please, before you start hurling accusations at me, would you just set it aside so that we can talk like adults? What happened to that ability we had? Where did it go?" He sighed. "I'm breaking my own rules here, I'm sorry."
"Before we continue this adult conversation, Frank, I have to know something. Do you love her? I know I asked how you felt about her before, but you never elaborated, never actually said the words. Do you?"
The question was loaded more fully than an M-16. He sighed heavily and leaned down a bit, placing his hands between his knees. He wanted to look at her when he spoke, but he didn't know if he could. She wasn't an idiot, she could read his body language, and he struggled with his inner demon until he fixed his eyes on her face again. "I don't know how to answer that, Remy. To be perfectly and bluntly honest, I don't know how or what I feel. It doesn't matter what I say or what I don't, will you believe it? Will you take my word at face value, or will you continue to question it?"
"Touché," she said. His words hurt, but there was truth to them. Regardless of what he said, she wouldn't take it. She hadn't been taking it since the day she first saw him with Jonella Paxton. "You're right, I wouldn't. I'm confused, Frank, very confused. You're sleeping with this woman and don't try to deny it. You are. I see that as establishing some kind of bond, some kind of relationship with her. I don't believe you're just screwing around. Maybe at the beginning, I could have bought it, but not after I saw you together that day at the hotel. I knew something more was there on that day. I knew it. I knew I would never have you again, not like I want. This is completely selfish of me, but I don't care. When I insisted that you take me to the hospital, only a little part of me wanted to thank her. The rest of me wanted to see how she felt about you. She loves you, Frank; it's all over her. I made a mistake, a horribly stupid mistake, but why can't you see past that and give me a chance?"
Decisions. Decisions. What could he say? What could he do? Jesus. He thought coming here would help alleviate some of the confusion and that it would help him finally make up his damn mind. It didn't. It had simply brought on more confusion, more grief. Her plea was simple and straightforward. They had been married two years, had been together almost three and a half. They had had a life together, a real life. The one thing that crushed those thoughts was the look on her face when they had the final meeting with the attorneys. She had either been a damn good actress or she really felt that way. She had had issues with his job before and probably still had them. He didn't like this, didn't like to be drawn two ways at once. He had left one woman in bed and another sat before him basically begging him to take her back. He loved Remy, he made that no secret, couldn't hide it, couldn't lie about it. What about Pax? What about her? No. Go away. Get out. Goddamn it. Goddamn it all. Did he? Did he actually love her? Was that it? Was that what prompted last night to happen? Was he finally seeing it? Admitting it to himself? Dear God, it's true. I love her. I do. What was his true motivation for coming here this morning? He wanted to see his daughter, but he also wanted to give himself a test, one that would finally give him the push he needed to end this heartbreaking game. One more time, one time would pay for all. I must give this one little pull. I have to know.
His head aching enormously, his heart pounding viciously, he reached for her and she was there as if expecting this very thing to happen. He took her lips brutally, his tongue invading her mouth as if he were using it as a tool to capture what was lost. Her hands went into his hair and his roamed her body restlessly as if discovering it for the first time. Before long, they were down on the bed, half undressed. Her body was familiar, soft, and inviting. She gave way before him without trying to make it into some kind of competition. He hadn't realized how much he missed her until he tasted her flesh, heard the soft whimpering that emitted from her throat with every little move he made. Had it been like this with her always? God. It had been so very long since they touched each other intimately, he honestly couldn't remember. However, some little something, some little nudge poked him, prodded almost. Where would they go from here? If he made love to her, if their lovemaking led to some kind of hesitant reconciliation, how would he handle the other woman who tugged so roughly on his heart? He hadn't resisted her, not at the beginning, not after her release from the hospital, and surely not after she came back. He couldn't do it, couldn't… The passionate daze began to lift as he felt Remy's hands reaching for the zipper of his jeans. Reality hit him as hard as an anvil to the back of the head. He drew away from her, exhaling deeply. He went for his tee shirt and threw it back over his head. For a long moment, he couldn't look at Remy. Rebuffed, she was gazing up at him curiously, wondering if she had done something wrong. Immediately sensing that the mood had completely changed, she silently went about buttoning her blouse and she leaned over to retrieve her skirt from the floor.
"What was it this time, Frank," she asked quietly. "Did you see her face instead of mine?"
Ashamed, he lowered his head. He had led her right into this and denied her, not once but twice. "No, that's not it." He looked up at her. "If I made love to you, what do you think would happen? If I came back, if you came back, I don't know-"
"You don't know what," she demanded.
"I'm afraid that if we were to get back together right now, that it would eventually lead to your being out of my life permanently. I don't want that to happen. I'm not ready to be with you or her. I can't do this; I can't lead you into this trap. I won't do it."
She shook her head and sighed. "So will you tell her that after you fuck her tonight?"
He gazed at her incredulously. "Do you think this is easy for me?"
"Get out, please? I don't want to talk about this anymore."
"Remy…"
"I told you to get out," she said through clenched teeth.
* * *
While Donovan and Remy were exploring the heartache and turmoil of a crumbling relationship, Pax was out walking. Right after Frankie took off to toddle with his princess [she wasn't fucking stupid, she knew where he was going], she had taken the bird shit bug, knowing that Weiz was monitoring, and she had called him out. She had told the ruthless fuck to meet her at a designated time and place. She didn't care that he would probably blow her to fucking bits, but she at least had to try to talk him out of killing Frankie. She'd give herself over in a heartbeat. As Pax tromped along the busy sidewalk, she wondered if Weiz would even care that Frankie's treason charges were complete bullshit. She continued her determined stroll, her spike heels clicking on the pavement. Pax was distracted and had her eyes focused on her feet. She couldn't think straight today, couldn't get the shit out of her brain. Why the hell had she come back? Why the hell hadn't she just made a fucking phone call? Goddamn it. How many times had she told Frankie, herself, that she didn't want to think or feel. It wasn't her thing and when it happened, it completely took control of her. Fuck the fucking fuckers. A hand shot out suddenly, encasing her upper arm with a vise-like squeeze. She barely had time to react before she was dragged off into a darkened alley. When she realized it was Weiz, she rolled her eyes. A dark back alley? Jesus Christ. What a fucking cliché. She popped him with her free hand and he released her roughly, almost making her fall on her ass. Okay. Here's where he shoots first and asks questions later. He didn't. Weiz simply stood and gazed at her curiously, wondering what the hell she was doing out here.
"Pax, you have five minutes to live. In that time, you'd better tell me one hell of a good story," he snarled.
She rolled her eyes. "Real slick move, there, buddy. A bird shit bug? Goddamn. How utterly fucking James Bond of you. You should have known better than to bug the place. Didn't you think I'd find it? Didn't you think Donovan would have? What can I do to make you stop this hit?"
"By killing me, but then someone else will just take over. Have you ever taken a peek at your lover's record? Have you seen the shit he's done? The shit he got away with? Have you, Pax? Do you want to see it before I put a bullet in your brain? By the way, you have about four minutes."
"Weiz, the shit in Frankie's file is bullshit. He didn't do any of that stuff. It was that VP that fuck running for President. That's the one you should be after, not Donovan. He told me everything and I believe him. Frankie's many things, but not a liar. I'm telling you, Weiz, if you take him out, you're killing an innocent man."
He chuckled a bit. "Damn. You really got it bad, don't you? It's a weird thing seeing such a misfit in love. I'd say Donovan could probably sway you into believing he's Santa Clause. Where do you want to take it, Pax? The head? Chest? Stomach? I thought that since we're old friends, I'd give you some options. About two minutes. Want to see the file? I can get it in less than five seconds."
"Weiz, for God's sake, fucking listen to me. Leave my feelings, or lack thereof, for Frank out of this. Do you think I'd fucking risk my damned neck if I didn't think he was telling the truth? Call Dicky. If you don't want to, then let me. Dicky's the one who let me out. Would he do that if this weren't legit? I'm no hypocrite. I realize that we've both taken out tons of people, and most of them deserved it, but this hit is a dud. You're taking out a fucking innocent man, a man who has a two-year-old child. Instead of taking him, take me. Take me and call it even. Don't let this crooked fucking VP order a hit that should be him. Use your brain, Weiz, use it for something other than a hat rack."
* * *
Gordon Thomas was becoming impatient. It was time for Weizmulder to move in and take care of business. He wanted Donovan dead before the debates in three days. It wouldn't take long for Donovan to start spilling the beans. He was certain his former CIA brethren would willingly help him with whatever evidence he needed. Shit. He had tried calling Weizmulder a dozen or more times. He needed to hurry the hell up and do his damn job. If the CIA assassin didn't move soon, he would take matters into his own hands. He had killed before and had no qualms about doing it again, especially when it was the man who had killed his son.
* * *
"Where the fuck did you go," Donovan demanded as soon as Pax entered the apartment.
She slammed the door and turned to face him. "I had an appointment, okay? I had some shit to take care of, and you need to drop that daddy tone before I kick it out of you." She started past him, but he took hold of her arm and spun her around to face him. "Frankie? What the fuck?"
"You're a moving target. Do you want more bullets lodged inside you? Do you want to bleed out again? Do you?"
She jerked her arm out of his hand. "I think you should be worried about your ass, not mine. I need to talk to you." She didn't sit. Instead she went over to the couch and leaned on it. "I talked to Weiz today. That's where I was."
Angrily, he stalked toward her and grasped her upper arms in his hands. He looked down into her face. "What the hell were you thinking? Do you realize what you've done? He could have fucking killed you, Jonella. When are you going to end this death wish of yours? Wasn't the first time enough? Damn it." He released her and backed away. "You never learn, neither do I."
"Frank, would you shut up and let me tell you what happened? I talked to Weiz and he almost fucking blew me away, but I told him that the file was bullshit. I told him to find Dicky. He's giving you a reprieve for now until he can dig up the truth."
He went back toward her, taking her arms in his hands again. "What did you do, Jonella? There are no true reprieves, not unless someone is in your situation. What did you do?" When she didn't answer him, he shook her, and then glowered down in her face. "What did you do?"
"I traded something with him for the reprieve," she said quietly. "For the time to allow him to research those charges."
"Jonella, you didn't," he spat, shocked.
"I did. I came here to tell you this before I go back to meet him."
He released her yet again and he turned around. "Damn you, Pax. Why did you do it? Why the fuck did you do it? You had everything in your hands and you're sacrificing yourself. Tell me why." He turned back around to face her. She was staring down at her hands. "Jonella…I don't know what to say to you. How could you do this? How could you give yourself over for a reprieve that may or may not happen? I won't let you do this. I won't let you leave even if I have to watch you day and night." He stalked toward her one more time. "There's an easier way to do this. I mean it, Jonella. You won't do this, not while I'm breathing. If I have to, I'll put you in protective custody. Do you understand?"
"You can't stop this, Frank. It's going to happen. You might as well back off and let me go," she said calmly.
He shook his head. "Back off and let you go? Are you insane? Forget it, Pax, it's not happening. You're cracked if you think I'm letting you walk out to your death, not when we can stop my hit from happening." She rolled her eyes dramatically when he took hold of her again. He stood her up to face him. "You won't do this. I won't let you."
"I told you, Frank, you can't stop it. What's done is done."
"The hell you say. I won't let you out of my sight. I told you. Don't you believe me?"
She nodded. "Oh yeah, I believe you, but just let it go. Nobody will miss me when I'm gone. I have no family, no husband, no kids, no dogs, no cats, no whatever. But you cannot go anywhere, you're needed. You have shit to live for and I'm not about to let you get shot down like a dog. Fuck that. I'd rather die than see the people you love suffer. I think I've made them suffer enough."
"You know who's suffering right now? I am. Who are you trying to save? Me? You?" One of his hands released her and it came up to caress her cheek. He leaned down a bit and kissed her very gently. When he broke the kiss, his mouth moved down to her throat. "I won't let you," he whispered against her flesh. "Do you hear me? I won't let you." His lips found their way back to hers and he kissed her deeply.
She broke the kiss first and sighed. "I don't want you to die."
"I'm not going to die, not like this," he said.
Goddamn. What was happening to her? She had never felt so fucked up in her life. How long had she been denying what she felt? Months? Fuck. Jesus jumping Christ on a fucking camel. She loved this fucker. She did. She couldn't lie to herself any longer. She was willing to die for him, to put her own ass on the line because she fucking loved the witless fuck. Goddamn it all to hell.