Show: The Agency
Title: The American Family: Chapter 3
Pairing: A.B. Stiles/Terri Lowell
Disclaimer: See Chapter 1
A/N: Thank you for all your comments, those who took the time to review: Jenny; Kincaid;
~Lauren; Lelieo54 and tander2950, you guys are the best! A few things to note: Stiles and Terri's
little boy's nickname is not A.B. Two, but A.B. squared – it was a bit of an upload problem, where
the font didn't load as I'd wanted. Just wanted to clarify. On with the story… enjoy!
*~*~*~*~*~*
If Stiles thought that Terri's date was a very fortunate man, well certainly half the female clientele
of the restaurant thought that Terri was a very fortunate *woman*. On many an occasion
throughout dinner she had seen the many appreciative if a little envious glances thrown at her
and her partner throughout the night. It wasn't very hard to understand why.
With an appreciative and experienced eye, Terri let her gaze subtly roam over the man sitting
before her. Michael O'Leary was clean-cut with a chiseled chin, sandy blonde hair and sparkling
green eyes. The crow's feet at the corners of his eyes and the crags that lined his thin mouth kept
him from being too movie star handsome. At forty-two years, he could never be mistaken for a
boy. No, Michael O'Leary was all *man*.
"Like what you see?" Michael's deep baritone voice broke her thoughts. He flashed his dazzling
grin as Terri's face blushed hotly.
"What do you think?" she recovered coyly, lifting a perfectly arched brow.
Michael's grin grew wider. "I'll say you do. Aren't you glad that I was so persistent?" he asked.
Terri grinned. He was referring to the many times they had run in to each other at the café
downtown. He had doggedly pursued her with invitations for drinks, lunch, dinner… but always
she'd refused. Until one evening she'd run into him after a particular stressful fight with A.B. over
something or the other, and subconsciously hoping it would get a rise out of A.B., she had
accepted. "For the moment," she replied saucily, sipping her wine.
Michael laughed, "That's good to know." He looked away from her to the other couples on the
dance floor, softly swaying to the smooth melodies of the jazz quartet playing softly in the corner.
"Would you like to dance?" he asked softly, turning back to her.
Terri smiled softly. She loved to dance, but few opportunities to do so had presented themselves
to her in the past four years. "Yes, I would," she accepted, giving him her hand.
Michael's grip was sure and warm as he pulled her to her feet, led her to the dance floor and then
into his arms. The large hand on her waist was warm as he pulled her closer to his body. Not
close enough for her to be alarmed, but close enough for her to feel the warmth of his body
beneath his blazer and smell the spicy scent of his cologne.
Terri lifted a hand to his shoulder and allowed him to lead her as they swayed to the music. Being
so near to another male who didn't smell like baby-powder and shampoo was something that she
had to get used to again. Dancing with said-same male was something she had to get used to
again. The last time she had danced with a man, it had been with Stiles at a dinner where they
had been on the look out for a terrorist benefactor, two years ago in Lisbon.
Stiles had held her close to him in those few minutes as they'd pivoted, each trying to catch a
glimpse of their target. His grip had been possessive on her waist, sliding seductively along the
smooth silk of her dress and he had even kissed her hair as they moved. Then he had caught
sight of their target leaving the room, and he'd all but thrust her away like a ticking time bomb. It
had been for appearances sake only, and Terri had cursed her body for reacting the way it had,
and her silly heart for being wounded.
Now, she didn't know how she felt as she slowly swayed with Michael. All night he had been the
perfect gentleman, engaging her in polite conversation from things as mundane as the weather to
politics in the Middle East. He had even made her laugh… gosh that man could be a tease! But, it
didn't make her feel uncomfortable. *He* didn't make her feel uncomfortable, and she *was* truly
glad that she had finally accepted his dinner invitation, because she found herself truly having a
wonderful time.
The song ended and they paused to politely applaud the band, and Michael took her arm and
escorted her back to their table.
"That was nice," he stated, as they settled back into their seats.
"Yes, it was," Terri agreed, gifting him with another smile.
Michael's grin faltered a bit, and he gazed at her in appreciation. "I know this might sound cheesy,
and you probably hear it all the time, but you are an extraordinarily beautiful woman."
It *was* cheesy, and she *was* used to hearing men compliment her beauty but, for some
reason, the husky appreciation in his voice caused her to blush. "Thank you," she said, smiling
softly.
"It's the truth."
The two lapsed into a comfortable silence, before Michael suddenly spoke up. "Would you like
dessert?"
Although she would die for a piece of the restaurant's famed chocolate lava cake, Terri shook her
head in negation. For some reason his compliment, although appreciated, did not sit entirely well
in her. Accepting compliments from men was something that she would have to get used to
again.
"No? You sure?" at Terri's repeated nod, he conceded and called for the check.
On the way home, Terri was lost in her thoughts as she stared unseeing at the moonlit scenery
rushing by her outside. She was confused. She had been in a tizzy over Stiles especially in the
past couple of months. She thought she had long ago given up her foolish fantasies of ever being
in a meaningful relationship with him, of being a family. But as always, A.B. had a way of worming
his way into her heart, especially around Alex.
::Like tonight::
She'd seen Stiles' reaction as she came down the stairs. Indeed she'd reveled in it, hoping that
he was feeling just a little bit jealous. Of course, as with the norm, he had revealed nothing but
indifference. But then, when she was practically kicking him out of the house, he had suddenly
swung around, and she swore that he would've kissed her. For a few seconds she'd hesitated,
knowing that if he had, she would not have wanted him to stop. But she knew what came of
passion with A.B. Stiles: nothing but passion and pain. And she would be *damned* if she'd go
through that again, so she'd stepped away.
And she'd gone out to a wonderful restaurant and enjoyed a wonderful dinner with an even more
wonderful man. And she didn't know what to make of it. She knew she was attracted to Michael
and if he asked, she would gladly go out with him again. These kinds of feelings for another man
were totally alien to her. there were new, and exciting, and held an aura of promise to them. She
had to rid her thoughts of A.B. and her fantasies that would never be reality, and focus on her
future. A future that could be very bright if a certain Michael O'Leary was in it.
"You were awfully quiet, Terri," came Michael's voice, startling her out of her reverie.
"She looked around and realized he had pulled into her driveway. "I'm fine," she replied. "Just a
little tired," she lied.
Michael furrowed his brow, but said nothing, as he got out and opened the car door for her.
"Thank you, sir," said Terri with a small laugh. She would have to get used to a man with
impeccable manners as well.
On her porch, Terri fumbled for her keys, a little unnerved with his presence behind her.
Adolescent thoughts of **Will he kiss me?** flitted through her head, as the small bunch of keys
eluded her questing hands. Finally locating them, she fished them out, and turned to Michael with
a small expectant smile.
Michael plunged his hands in his pockets and looked down earnestly into her face. "I had a very
nice time tonight, Terri," he said softly.
"So did I," she replied.
Michael smiled. "I'd like to see you again, if you'd like."
Terri's smile grew wider. "I *would* like that."
"Great." As if in a trance Terri's eyes widened as Michael leaned toward her. She fully expected
him to kiss her lips but instead, his lips brushed her soft cheek. "Goodnight, Terri," he whispered
huskily in her ear. " I'll call you tomorrow."
Terri could only smile in reply again as she watched his lean figure back away from her, down the
steps to his car. The powerful engine turned over and with a parting honk, he backed his
Mercedes out the drive and sped away.
Terri chuckled as she let herself into her house. Not bothering to switch on the lights, she reset
the alarm that A.B. had insisted she install when she'd first moved in. Upstairs in her room, Terri
slowly undressed, enjoying the silky feel of the satin sliding down her body. The spot where
Michael had kissed her cheek still tingled.
Terri had to laugh out loud. With the type of flirt Michael had shown he could be, Terri had fully
expected him to kiss her. And after her thoughts in the car, she wouldn't have minded. But he
kissed her cheek instead. Her *cheek*! Terri pulled a thin cotton nightgown over her head and slid
into bed. Her final thoughts before she drifted off to sleep were: **Yup! Michael O'Leary sure is a
gentleman.**
TBC…
A/N: R&R people, tell me what you thought. I must tell you that currently I'm about to start writing
my exams, so there will probably be a lengthy break between this and Chapter 4. However, I
expect to be fully back in commission by June 11th. If you are lucky, I might be able to post a new
Chapter before then. If not, thank you for reading and I wish to hear from you all. Ciao!
Title: The American Family: Chapter 3
Pairing: A.B. Stiles/Terri Lowell
Disclaimer: See Chapter 1
A/N: Thank you for all your comments, those who took the time to review: Jenny; Kincaid;
~Lauren; Lelieo54 and tander2950, you guys are the best! A few things to note: Stiles and Terri's
little boy's nickname is not A.B. Two, but A.B. squared – it was a bit of an upload problem, where
the font didn't load as I'd wanted. Just wanted to clarify. On with the story… enjoy!
*~*~*~*~*~*
If Stiles thought that Terri's date was a very fortunate man, well certainly half the female clientele
of the restaurant thought that Terri was a very fortunate *woman*. On many an occasion
throughout dinner she had seen the many appreciative if a little envious glances thrown at her
and her partner throughout the night. It wasn't very hard to understand why.
With an appreciative and experienced eye, Terri let her gaze subtly roam over the man sitting
before her. Michael O'Leary was clean-cut with a chiseled chin, sandy blonde hair and sparkling
green eyes. The crow's feet at the corners of his eyes and the crags that lined his thin mouth kept
him from being too movie star handsome. At forty-two years, he could never be mistaken for a
boy. No, Michael O'Leary was all *man*.
"Like what you see?" Michael's deep baritone voice broke her thoughts. He flashed his dazzling
grin as Terri's face blushed hotly.
"What do you think?" she recovered coyly, lifting a perfectly arched brow.
Michael's grin grew wider. "I'll say you do. Aren't you glad that I was so persistent?" he asked.
Terri grinned. He was referring to the many times they had run in to each other at the café
downtown. He had doggedly pursued her with invitations for drinks, lunch, dinner… but always
she'd refused. Until one evening she'd run into him after a particular stressful fight with A.B. over
something or the other, and subconsciously hoping it would get a rise out of A.B., she had
accepted. "For the moment," she replied saucily, sipping her wine.
Michael laughed, "That's good to know." He looked away from her to the other couples on the
dance floor, softly swaying to the smooth melodies of the jazz quartet playing softly in the corner.
"Would you like to dance?" he asked softly, turning back to her.
Terri smiled softly. She loved to dance, but few opportunities to do so had presented themselves
to her in the past four years. "Yes, I would," she accepted, giving him her hand.
Michael's grip was sure and warm as he pulled her to her feet, led her to the dance floor and then
into his arms. The large hand on her waist was warm as he pulled her closer to his body. Not
close enough for her to be alarmed, but close enough for her to feel the warmth of his body
beneath his blazer and smell the spicy scent of his cologne.
Terri lifted a hand to his shoulder and allowed him to lead her as they swayed to the music. Being
so near to another male who didn't smell like baby-powder and shampoo was something that she
had to get used to again. Dancing with said-same male was something she had to get used to
again. The last time she had danced with a man, it had been with Stiles at a dinner where they
had been on the look out for a terrorist benefactor, two years ago in Lisbon.
Stiles had held her close to him in those few minutes as they'd pivoted, each trying to catch a
glimpse of their target. His grip had been possessive on her waist, sliding seductively along the
smooth silk of her dress and he had even kissed her hair as they moved. Then he had caught
sight of their target leaving the room, and he'd all but thrust her away like a ticking time bomb. It
had been for appearances sake only, and Terri had cursed her body for reacting the way it had,
and her silly heart for being wounded.
Now, she didn't know how she felt as she slowly swayed with Michael. All night he had been the
perfect gentleman, engaging her in polite conversation from things as mundane as the weather to
politics in the Middle East. He had even made her laugh… gosh that man could be a tease! But, it
didn't make her feel uncomfortable. *He* didn't make her feel uncomfortable, and she *was* truly
glad that she had finally accepted his dinner invitation, because she found herself truly having a
wonderful time.
The song ended and they paused to politely applaud the band, and Michael took her arm and
escorted her back to their table.
"That was nice," he stated, as they settled back into their seats.
"Yes, it was," Terri agreed, gifting him with another smile.
Michael's grin faltered a bit, and he gazed at her in appreciation. "I know this might sound cheesy,
and you probably hear it all the time, but you are an extraordinarily beautiful woman."
It *was* cheesy, and she *was* used to hearing men compliment her beauty but, for some
reason, the husky appreciation in his voice caused her to blush. "Thank you," she said, smiling
softly.
"It's the truth."
The two lapsed into a comfortable silence, before Michael suddenly spoke up. "Would you like
dessert?"
Although she would die for a piece of the restaurant's famed chocolate lava cake, Terri shook her
head in negation. For some reason his compliment, although appreciated, did not sit entirely well
in her. Accepting compliments from men was something that she would have to get used to
again.
"No? You sure?" at Terri's repeated nod, he conceded and called for the check.
On the way home, Terri was lost in her thoughts as she stared unseeing at the moonlit scenery
rushing by her outside. She was confused. She had been in a tizzy over Stiles especially in the
past couple of months. She thought she had long ago given up her foolish fantasies of ever being
in a meaningful relationship with him, of being a family. But as always, A.B. had a way of worming
his way into her heart, especially around Alex.
::Like tonight::
She'd seen Stiles' reaction as she came down the stairs. Indeed she'd reveled in it, hoping that
he was feeling just a little bit jealous. Of course, as with the norm, he had revealed nothing but
indifference. But then, when she was practically kicking him out of the house, he had suddenly
swung around, and she swore that he would've kissed her. For a few seconds she'd hesitated,
knowing that if he had, she would not have wanted him to stop. But she knew what came of
passion with A.B. Stiles: nothing but passion and pain. And she would be *damned* if she'd go
through that again, so she'd stepped away.
And she'd gone out to a wonderful restaurant and enjoyed a wonderful dinner with an even more
wonderful man. And she didn't know what to make of it. She knew she was attracted to Michael
and if he asked, she would gladly go out with him again. These kinds of feelings for another man
were totally alien to her. there were new, and exciting, and held an aura of promise to them. She
had to rid her thoughts of A.B. and her fantasies that would never be reality, and focus on her
future. A future that could be very bright if a certain Michael O'Leary was in it.
"You were awfully quiet, Terri," came Michael's voice, startling her out of her reverie.
"She looked around and realized he had pulled into her driveway. "I'm fine," she replied. "Just a
little tired," she lied.
Michael furrowed his brow, but said nothing, as he got out and opened the car door for her.
"Thank you, sir," said Terri with a small laugh. She would have to get used to a man with
impeccable manners as well.
On her porch, Terri fumbled for her keys, a little unnerved with his presence behind her.
Adolescent thoughts of **Will he kiss me?** flitted through her head, as the small bunch of keys
eluded her questing hands. Finally locating them, she fished them out, and turned to Michael with
a small expectant smile.
Michael plunged his hands in his pockets and looked down earnestly into her face. "I had a very
nice time tonight, Terri," he said softly.
"So did I," she replied.
Michael smiled. "I'd like to see you again, if you'd like."
Terri's smile grew wider. "I *would* like that."
"Great." As if in a trance Terri's eyes widened as Michael leaned toward her. She fully expected
him to kiss her lips but instead, his lips brushed her soft cheek. "Goodnight, Terri," he whispered
huskily in her ear. " I'll call you tomorrow."
Terri could only smile in reply again as she watched his lean figure back away from her, down the
steps to his car. The powerful engine turned over and with a parting honk, he backed his
Mercedes out the drive and sped away.
Terri chuckled as she let herself into her house. Not bothering to switch on the lights, she reset
the alarm that A.B. had insisted she install when she'd first moved in. Upstairs in her room, Terri
slowly undressed, enjoying the silky feel of the satin sliding down her body. The spot where
Michael had kissed her cheek still tingled.
Terri had to laugh out loud. With the type of flirt Michael had shown he could be, Terri had fully
expected him to kiss her. And after her thoughts in the car, she wouldn't have minded. But he
kissed her cheek instead. Her *cheek*! Terri pulled a thin cotton nightgown over her head and slid
into bed. Her final thoughts before she drifted off to sleep were: **Yup! Michael O'Leary sure is a
gentleman.**
TBC…
A/N: R&R people, tell me what you thought. I must tell you that currently I'm about to start writing
my exams, so there will probably be a lengthy break between this and Chapter 4. However, I
expect to be fully back in commission by June 11th. If you are lucky, I might be able to post a new
Chapter before then. If not, thank you for reading and I wish to hear from you all. Ciao!
