WEIZ'S DILEMMA
Pax woke up feeling foggy and disoriented. Beside her, Donovan hadn't rolled over twice. He was completely dead to the world. She sat up and peered down at him, waiting to see if he would react. He didn't. Good. Pax began to slide off the bed. Before she completely got off it, a hand shot out and gripped her arm tightly. She turned quickly, noticing that Donovan had suddenly awakened. Shit.
"Where are you going, Jonella?" He was gazing at her intently, steadily. "We settled this last night, didn't we?"
"We settled nothing," she spat. "You settled it, Frankie, you settled it and then you fucked me. You can't watch me day and night."
Donovan moved off the bed and took hold of her before she could make a run for it. Hanging onto her arm, he dragged her over to the closet so he could dig out some clothes. After he gathered what he needed, he dragged her to the bed and sat her down. He would cuff her once they arrived at the nest. He wanted to see her escaping those. Silently, she watched him dress, contemplating her next move. When he finished, he took hold of her arm again, and he dragged her off into the living room. He ducked into Stasia's room and snagged Pax's duffel bag. He released her again and thrust the bag toward her. The fucker. He wanted her to fucking get dressed right in front of him. He was doing every fucking thing in his power to keep his promise of watching her. Son-of-a-bitch. She sighed and took her bag from him. Unzipping it impatiently, she dug out a crumpled outfit. He stood back with his arms crossed over his chest. He stared at her with his right eyebrow lifted, challenging her, daring her to defy him. She dressed with jerky, impatient motions. He wasn't even going to let her take a fucking shower. As much as she loved the fucker, she hated him. When she finished dressing, she twisted her hair up and secured it with a clip. She stood and stared at him, seemingly asking 'what next?' He took hold of her arm and guided her body out the door and down to the parking garage. He unlocked the car and forced her to get in on his side. He climbed in after her and focused his eyes on her face.
"Where is Weiz staying," he asked suddenly, unexpectedly.
She gazed at him incredulously. What the fuck? "Frankie? Have you lost your fucking mind? He'll fucking shoot you, you idiot."
"If you go, I go, it's as simple as that," he said nonchalantly as if he were simply talking about a picnic. "Take me to him, Pax. He will renege on his contract. If he refuses, he'll have both hits in sight. Where is he?"
She sighed. "You're a fucking lunatic." She sat back in the seat and crossed her arms over her chest. "Start the fucking car and I'll tell you where he is."
* * *
Weiz had spent an interesting night trying to dig up the information Pax had given him. He wasn't exactly a computer expert, but he was pretty good. If any records existed of a CIA fuck up, he was sure to find them. After all, it hadn't taken long to dig up Donovan's CIA records. He typed in every name combination known to man and didn't come up with anything. However, another name entered his brain. It was one he hadn't tried and he almost felt stupid. He typed in 'Rodney Thomas' and pressed enter. Nothing. Goddamn. Was Pax just pulling his leg to buy time for her lover? Why hadn't he taken her out when he had the chance?
Pax and Donovan sat outside the hotel. She was so very tempted to reach out, grab the door handle, and make her escape, but he was watching her cautiously. He didn't trust her and wasn't afraid to show it. He glanced at Pax. "I'm getting out first and then I'll come for you. If you run, I'll give you a matched set of scars on the back of your legs. Is that clear?" She said nothing. She stared at him maliciously. "Fine," he spat. He opened the door on his side and slid out. He kept his eyes focused on her the entire time he was walking around to the passenger side. Donovan opened the door and presented his hand. His body was held stiffly and guardedly. He didn't doubt that she would try to make a run for it. "Come on, Pax, don't make me come after you."
She gave him her hand, so very tempted to yank him down and blacken his eye. Let's see if you can fucking follow me with your eye dotted, you witless fuck. Pushing her aggression aside [goddamn…this love thing has me all fucked up inside], she allowed him to pull her up to her feet. Once he had the door slammed behind him, he released her hand and clamped his onto her upper arm again. She bruised easily and could just imagine the lovely one that was forming at this very second. He walked with her body held closely against his and she hated keeping pace with him. His legs were longer, but she walked faster and her impatience was gigantic. She didn't understand why he didn't just let her go. His life would even out so beautifully without her presence. She had come to realize many fucking things since she had returned, and none of them were nice. How many times had she told Frankie and/or his princess that she didn't come around to rock the boat? Dozens? Millions? Intentionally, she really didn't want to interfere, but since that hospital shit had happened, she was acting like a fucking jealous twit. Part of her had accepted the CIA/FBI deal because she wanted to get away from Frankie, wanted to run, wanted to avoid, avoid, avoid. From the moment she came back, from the first night he had taken her to bed, she hadn't cared to start shit. In fact, she pretty much fucking dug it. But there was a practical side to her craziness. She wasn't stupid. She realized that she couldn't be the woman he needed; she couldn't offer him what another could. Regardless of his stubborn insistence, he needed his fucking wife back. She was the only woman he needed, the only one that could give him what he wanted. With her absence, he would see that, he would finally see it. Perhaps then, he would go back and do what he needed to do to make himself and the princess happy. Yet, he did hold onto her, no matter how much she denied it. He held onto her because he thought he loved her, but she knew he didn't, not really. He was fucked up and simply thought he did. Goddamn, why is his wife so fucking stupid?
The two of them walked into the lobby of the hotel. In a way, Donovan was hoping that Weiz would know of their presence in advance. Surely, he would be monitoring the situation. If not, he was dumber than Donovan once thought. They stood in front of the elevator and waited impatiently. When the doors finally came open, Donovan entered the car first and then dragged Pax inside. During the entire trip to the hotel and up to the floor they needed, neither of them spoke. Pax was afraid she'd start hurling insults at him and Donovan was afraid she'd start begging him to let her die. She wanted to break away, wanted to jerk her arm from his grasp, kick him in the family jewels, and make a run for it. However, he was hyper alert to every move she made. If she tried anything, he would damn well fucking shoot her as he promised. When the elevator came to a jarring halt at their floor, Donovan dragged Pax out and forced her along to the hotel room Weizmulder occupied. Donovan drew his weapon one-handed. He would not walk into that room unprepared regardless of his 'reprieve.' The door opened long before they reached it. Weizmulder gazed upon them curiously, but he wasn't in the least bit surprised. He noticed Donovan's drawn weapon, but he was unarmed. He had given the SOG leader a reprieve; he needn't worry about getting shot…not yet.
With a smirk, Weiz said, "Drop the pea shooter, Donovan, didn't your lover tell you? She bought you some time. What did you do, deliver her to me to make my job easier?"
Donovan fixed his dark eyes on Weiz's face. It took extreme control on his part to keep from shooting him. "No. I came to dissolve whatever deal you made with her. Get out of the door, Weizmulder, so we can settle this once and for all." He watched as Weiz shrugged his shoulders and stepped aside. Keeping his eyes on the man the entire time, he dragged Pax along with him.
"Pax, I still haven't found any evidence that clears Donovan's checkered past. Are you sure any exists or were you snowing me?"
She sighed, wishing desperately that the witless fuck would release her. She wasn't fucking going to run…not yet. "You're looking for records, right? Do you think the CIA boys would leave their dirty laundry out to be found? Goddamn it, Weiz, I thought you were smarter than that. You need to find the files that I had gathered back then. You need those, not the computer shit. Nobody, even Frankie's computer geek, could find them."
"Fairy tails piss me off, Pax. What files are you talking about?"
"My fucking files, you dimwit. Those were the fucking files I was talking about. Before I joined your group, I made a fucking dozen of those microdiskettes. I left one for Frankie and hid the rest of them at various locations. You need to find the diskettes. Once you fucking find them, you'll have your goddamn proof."
He didn't know whether or not to believe her. However, thus far, she had been quite straight with him. "Where are they, Pax? Where did you put just one of them?"
Before she said one word, Donovan interjected. "If she tells you where to find the disks, will you release her? I won't let her talk until you make a deal with us."
She sighed angrily. "Goddamn it, Frankie, don't do this."
He stared at her. "Be quiet," he hissed. He focused his eyes back on Weiz. "Do we make a deal or do you fulfill your contract right here and now?"
"Frank, for God's sake," she implored. "You don't know what the fuck you're saying."
He ignored her. "Well?"
Weiz sighed. Sheesh. He had never been torn like this before. Weizmulder didn't like dilemmas. "You're on reprieve, Donovan. I don't break deals like that once I make them, it gets messy. I'll release her from her previous obligations if and only if these disks truly exist. Once she gives me the location of one, I need to have some insurance, you know? You'll need to hang out here until I get back. I'm not saying that Pax is lying, but this is more of an act of good faith. You understand my dilemma, don't you Donovan? Of course, if I don't find the disk, we'll have a whole new situation unfolding before us, now won't we?"
Donovan squeezed Pax's arm. "Tell him," he spat through clenched teeth.
She sighed. "Okay. You'll find one at my old place here in town. You remember that rank apartment I lived in, don't you, Weiz? I dug a hole in the bedroom wall and slipped one in there. I plastered it over when I moved out. It should still be there. The rest of my copies are scattered about DC. The one at my old place is the only one I have here."
"Very fucking well, Pax. I should hope that you'd willingly find your way to the bedroom? It's the only room with a lock on the outside." Weiz jerked his head toward the room. "Move on, now."
Donovan pushed Pax along to the room and dragged her inside. A few moments later, Weiz slammed the door and locked it. Another span of time passed before they heard him exiting the room. At that point, Donovan released her and holstered his weapon. She turned on him suddenly. "What the fuck did you think you were doing," she roared at him. "He could have fucking shot you down. You say I have a death wish. I'm beginning to wonder if it isn't you who has it."
He backed up and sat down on the edge of the bed. For a few brief moments, he buried his face into his hands. He glanced up at her and noticed the rage painted so clearly in her eyes. "You bargained for a reprieve, didn't you," he spat sarcastically. "He wasn't going to shoot me, he was going to shoot you."
"You're a fucking idiot, Frank, a fucking clueless idiot," she spat. She moved over to a small table and boosted herself up onto it. "Why, Frank? That's all I want to know. Why can't you let me do this?"
He looked up at her incredulously. "Why? Jonella, do you have to ask? Do you? What greater purpose would your death serve? Perhaps that's what we should discuss since we have all the fucking time in the world."
Oh hell, here it goes again. "I've disrupted your life more times than I can count on my fingers and toes. You've never heard this argument before, but since we are stuck like this, what the fuck? I might as well tell you, huh? Your princess harps at me constantly, harps that you're holding onto me or some shit, harps that she can't find her way back into your heart because I'm here. It doesn't fucking make a lick of sense, but I do know what happens when we get together, especially since I got out of the hospital. If I permanently leave the picture, you can do what you need to do. You can go back to her, get your life back, be the father to your kid that you want to be. Do you get what I'm trying to tell you? How many times have you tried to get back with her with me here, in your face? How many? Once I'm gone, you won't have any reason to stay away. I wonder about that reason. Do you use me as an excuse because you're afraid to try again? Is that what it is?"
He laughed. The sound was bitter, sarcastic. "You don't know anything," he said. "What if I told you I'd seen her since you've been back? What if I told you that I nearly made love to her but couldn't because of you? Your presence is just a tiny, tiny part of our problem. I'm not afraid of taking her back, but I am afraid of failing again if I do, and it would fail, I know it would. You above all others should know I hold grudges and a part of me won't ever forgive what happened. What happens when we're together has nothing to do with my reluctance. I won't lie and say I know what the hell I'm doing, because I don't. I don't want you to die; I don't want you to disappear forever, because I couldn't take it. You ask why I won't let you go, it's because I can't. It's not you who has the hold on me. I have a hold on you, and I cannot release it. I cannot release you. I don't want to release you. Nothing will change my mind about this."
Pax gazed down at him. "Do you know what you're saying? I have elbowed my way into your life. You don't need that. You need your wife. You need your daughter."
He stood up suddenly and approached her. He gripped her forearms in his hands. How many times in so many days had he fucking grabbed her arms? "Jonella, what I don't need is for you to tell me what I do need. It's your fear working on you again; don't you think I can see that? I don't choose to go back to my ex-wife because it won't work, not with this anger and hurt built up inside me. That would be the easiest choice to make, but I don't choose easy, I never have. There are two of you trying to tell me what I want, but neither of you seem to think I have a sound mind of my own. You tell me what I want and need. I'm getting fucking sick of it, Jonella. I can tell you exactly what I want and need at this moment. I want you, I need you, to be alive. You have almost died for me once and I'm not about to let you do it again. Give me credit, Jonella. Look at me. Isn't it obvious?"
"What do you want from me, Frank? What is it? What is it that you want? Tell me I'm wrong to say that this can't happen. Tell me. You can't, can you?" He said nothing, but kept a steady gaze with her. "You may know what you want right now, you may know what you're doing right now, but you have to ask yourself a basic question. In the long run, Frankie, who is it that you see beside you? Who is it? I know it isn't me; I'm not fucking naïve enough to believe it is. Besides, I don't want this shit, I don't need it, and I fucking don't need you."
A smug grin touched his lips. "You're in denial, Jonella…complete and total denial. I can see it all over you."
"Fuck you," she snarled.
"Vulgarity won't change anything. In fact, it convinces me even more. That's your defense mechanism, Jonella. I've known you long enough to see that. Spit at me, curse me, hit me, do what you want. I know. I see it." His dark brown eyes locked onto her deep blue ones. "Are you going to let me kiss you or do I have to force you?"
She opened her mouth to spit out an indignant curse, but he didn't give her a chance. His mouth covered hers, drowning out her obscenities. His grip on her arms loosened and his hands moved up to cup her face. She struck out at him, but the blow was more like 'damn, why are you doing this to me' than one of malice or anger. It didn't break his concentration or his hold. Once his hands moved from her face, he slid his arms around her to draw her closer against him. Her hands feebly continued smacking him, cursing him for her mouth, which he had claimed as his own. She hated him. She loathed him. He disgusted her. She loved him. Dear God. She loved him. Why now? Why her? With one final, forceful push, she finally loosened the grip his lips had on hers. She could speak and breathe now.
"What are you going to do, Frank," she asked, almost sneering. "Are you going to fuck me on this table in the room of the man set to kill you?"
Button, button, where's the button? "I would think you could find another button to play with, Jonella. The same ones get boring after a while," he said with his own sneer.
"Cocky, aren't you," she spat.
"I've been told I am," he replied smartly.
"I fucking hate you," she spat viciously, tempted to smack him.
He laughed sardonically. "No you don't."
Donovan kissed her again and she moaned in frustration. He couldn't keep doing this to her. He pressed forward savagely, his tongue invading her mouth, insistent and probing. She fought with herself at first and refused to return the kiss. He was basically doing most of the work, but after a moment, she relented [fuck it]. He wouldn't release her until she gave in. Wow, this is one battle he finally won. I don't like these odds. Her arms snaked around him and she began to respond to his kiss. When he felt her resistance slipping away, his grip on her body loosened and his hands began their restless movement. Oh, Jesus. He had the best fucking hands. He could do more with them than a man could do with his entire body. Ah. They were back to the fast and furious. Her skirt was pushed up crudely, her thong snapped in two by an impatient tug of his hands, and hers had worked open his pants, freeing him. Within moments, he was inside her, pounding away madly, his lips against her ear.
This was completely insane. She had to fucking learn to just say no.