Show: The Agency
Title: The American Family: Chapter 4
Pairing: A.B. Stiles/Terri Lowell
Disclaimer: See Chapter 1
A/N: Well, I'm playing truant here and deciding to post another chapter, but with the distinct lack
of reviews ::sniffle:: I don't even know if I should even bother. Please R&R. The feed back is the
only thing that keeps me writing and knowing that the story is still being read, so don't be stingy
and try to make a silly 16-year old feel better, ok?
*~*~*~*~*~*
With a weary sigh, Stiles settled his exhausted body onto his couch and twisted off the cap on his
beer-bottle. He wiped his tired eyes as the fizzy alcohol slid down his throat, and he could hear
the muscles in his neck pop and crack as he slowly rotated his head.
::Jesus, how can a four year old have so much damn energy!:: he wondered, as he propped his
feet up on his coffee table and switched on the TV. He still pondered the question as his tired
mind recapped the events of his night from when Terri had practically shoved him out of the
house.
He'd had all intents and purposes of driving straight to his apartment, plopping A.B.2 in front of the
tube with a Barney video or two, some milk before brushing his teeth and then carting him off to
bed so he could enjoy some peace and quiet. Of course, where a four-year-old was concerned,
nothing was ever so simple.
As soon as they'd stepped through the door, Alex had wanted ice-cream; then chocolate milk;
then he wanted to watch a Batman cartoon, not Barney; then he wanted to eat pizza like his
Daddy, although he'd had dinner before he'd left home. He knew that Terri would kill him if Alex
had pizza after dinner, but he gave it to him anyways to stave off the imminent whining.
When nine o'clock rolled around, and Batman video number 2 was over, A.B. had announced it
was time for bed. Of course, A.B.2 would have none of it, and decided that a spontaneous game
of hide-go-seek would be fun to play with Daddy, so it had taken Stiles, the bad-assed CIA agent,
another half hour to find his precocious little four-year-old hiding in the laundry basket.
A wriggling match had then ensued and it took another further ten minutes to get him up the stairs
and into the tub. The problems had then arisen again. Of course, A.B.2 had wanted every single
floating object in the house in the tub with him, but had to settle for a rubber ducky and a toy
ship… or two… or three. Then, when sailing along the Atlantic wasn't very fun any more, Soak
Daddy with an Impromptu Tsunami became the game of choice. So before he could finally drag a
decidedly clean A.B.2 from the tub, Stiles had become effectively wetter.
Thankfully, after all the splashing and giggling at his drowned-rat father, Alex had finally begun to
feel the beckoning of Dreamland. He had obediently brushed his teeth under his father's careful
supervision, and stepped into his Sesame Street pajamas before Stiles had to obligingly lift him
from the bathroom and carry him to bed. He had been too tired to even ask for his customary
glass of water and bedtime story. All he could muster was a very sleepy: "G'night, Daddy. I wov
you," before his sleepy eyes closed and he became a resident of dreamland. ::For at least eight
hours, hopefully:: Stiles couldn't but hope.
He kissed Alex's downy cheek and switched on his nightlight before closing the door and heading
to the bathroom to mop up the flooded mess. Now, forty-five minutes later, he sat flipping through
the Spam that was Friday night TV, trying to keep his mind off Terri and her date.
At the mere thought Stiles' had gripped the beer-bottle tightly, his grip almost at breaking point.
Now that he had the time to think again, he couldn't help but feel the cold sting of jealousy and
the inane knowledge that he had messed up. Big time! Reflexively, he took another swig of
alcohol, draining the bottle.
::Damn!:: Stiles was pissed… nothing new there. But he was especially pissed that he was here
thinking about her, and she was probably having the time of her life, giving that lucky bastard The
Terri Smile. The one that was so cheeky but shy, sexy and full of promise; the one that made her
eyes twinkle and turn smoky at the same time; the one that sparkled like stars on a perfectly clear
dark night; the one that reduced a man to a mass of quivering knees and tied tongues, fraught
with adolescent feelings.
::Goddamn it!:: Stiles slammed the beer bottle down on the table and clenched his jaw. He knew
that the reason his and Terri's relationship was so screwed up was because of him. If he hadn't
been such an arrogant, cold little bastard, who knows what could have happened? But the truth of
the matter was that he treated Terri Lowell like crap. And no matter what she might have felt for
him, a woman like her wasn't going to stand for his bullshit.
But Terri Lowell scared him, and Agent A.B. Stiles wasn't scared of anything, least of all a petite
brown-haired Graphics Designer. Who just about knocked him flat on his butt… literally!
In the beginning, he had been intrigued by her, and very, very attracted. She was different from
the women that usually caught his eye. Perhaps, the fact that she actually knew who Socrates
and Plato were and could tell the difference between Miles and Coltrane had something to do
with it. Along with the fact that she *had* knocked him clear off his feet. Terri Lowell sure had a
way of grabbing a man's attention!
Then came those many nights of working together. She had circled him like a caged dog, wary of
every move he made. They'd worked close together, but they had known nothing about each
other except what was in each other's dossier. It was a strange time then. The air between them
had just been fraught with sexual frustration, and it wasn't clear when one of them would snap.
Then came Capri….
It was the single most mind-blowing experience of his life. It had yet to be topped. He could still
remember the gentle sway of the yacht in the marina, the sun's rays reflecting off the white
fibreglass, Terri's sexy little lavender bikini, their opening conversation and then… the most
amazing sexual experience of his entire life.
He could remember thinking that first time with Terri was like coming home. And that moment had
been so profound it was scary. But while he couldn't seem to get enough of her physically,
emotionally, he began to shut her out: missed calls, cancelled dates, non-existent conversations.
Until he had gotten another craving to be with her again of course.
And so the cycle had continued, until Terri got frustrated and pissed off and said enough was
enough! Whatever it was that they had… it was over!
And he felt as though he had died. He kept watch over her, at a distance of course, and so that is
why he had been so torn up inside when she'd been kidnapped. Why he'd been beside his mind
with worry and the fear that she might be killed, and why he had been willing to risk anything: his
career, his life, in order to get her back.
And he had. His standing with the CIA had been a little shaky for a while, but none of that had
mattered because she was alive and safe. The night he found her, and she'd had been debriefed
and cleared to go home, she hadn't wanted to be alone, and he was in no shape to deny her. He
couldn't keep his hands off her after she asked that he take her to his apartment. It had been
upstairs in his very own bed that he had poured his body into her, and they'd conceived their son,
and unbeknownst to Terri, he'd given her a piece of his heart, not just a piece of his DNA.
But then for a change, *Terri* had been the one to pull away. He was wounded to realize that she
regretted their night together, and she had been cold and indifferent to him ever since then,
especially when informing him: "A.B. Stiles, you are the sire of my child." Times had been hard
since then, and it was nobody's fault but his!
Heaving another exhausted sigh, A.B. rested his neck on the back of the couch. He closed his
eyes, only for a second. But before long, his exhausted body dozed off, only to plague his mind
with memories of Capri…
*~*~*~*~*~*
Capri 2003
A.B. perched on the bow of the yacht, enjoying the slow, almost playful swaying of the marina
waves against the sleek lines of the boat. He sat in the shade of the overhang, careful of the
sun's rays reflecting off the deck. It was hot that day, and his lack of clothing was the way he was
dealing with the heat. How they both were dealing with the heat.
A.B. could hear Terri's footsteps as she came from below deck. He cocked an appreciative
eyebrow as he took in her lavender bikini and silky sarong. She cocked a matching eyebrow as
she undid the knot at her hip and the material pooled at her feet. At that moment, A.B. felt as
though he had been punched in the gut. Terri's legs went on forever: long, strong and shapely.
Incredibly sexy!
Terri adopted his position next to him, and together they stared out at the crowded marina. He
could hear her rhythmic breathing beside him and could smell the suntan lotion that glistened on
her skin. The wavy hair that had at times fascinated him was pulled back into a messy ponytail.
This was not the Terri Lowell that he was used to. He was used to the sleek sophisticate who was
quick to smile at anyone but him. A woman who was impossibly sexy.
This rumpled, laid-back Terri was someone he would have to get used to. Especially if they were
expected to continue their charade of two American jetsetters very much in love with one another.
A role they played so well in public, but one they had to perfect in private.
"Tell me about yourself." His request came so out of the blue that Terri had looked at him as
though he had sprouted horns and another head.
"What do you want to know?" she asked. "*Why* do you want to know?"
A.B. shrugged indifferently. "I dunno… everything. As to why… how are we to upkeep this
charade of bein' oh so in love if we don't know anything about each other?"
Terri arched an eyebrow. "We'll manage just fine Agent Stiles. We don't have any other choice.
Unless you want to end up with a bullet in your skull of course."
A.B. smiled tightly. "Well, I know you're sarcastic at least."
Terri rolled her eyes. "Everything you need to know is in my dossier: I'm 34, born in Fargo, I'm a
Graphics Designer, and I've worked for the CIA for the past four years."
"Married?"
Terri turned an exasperated eye on him. "Divorced. Why would you bother asking if you know the
only reason I joined the CIA is for my talent which was so amazingly squandered after my
asshole husband cheated on me and left me with a company worth jack?"
A.B. grinned. "Sound's much more interesting when you put it that way."
They lapsed into silence. "Fair is fair. What about you, Agent Stiles? What's the A.B. stand for?"
Stiles chuckled and shook his head. "I told you already: Absolute Bastard."
"Oh jeez, I forgot," replied Terri sarcastically.
And so, the conversation had continued and had actually evolved into good-natured bantering.
Although they had ceased being so hostile to each other, and were actually having a civil
conversation, Terri shrewdly noted that A.B. kept dodging the personal questions, and was
indeed drawing *her* out.
As the day progressed to dusk and eventually night, they supplemented their conversation with
good seafood and even better wine. The alcohol and the cool breeze on her body loosened
Terri's mouth and both their bodies. And before long, Stiles found himself giving into temptation
and leaning across the small gap between their bodies and capturing her lips with his.
She'd tasted a little like Shrimp Fettuccini, Chateau Briand and tiramisu on the surface. But as her
mouth opened beneath his, he tasted a flavour that was distinctly Terri, soft and feminine, and
with definite experience.
Things had definitely gotten a little out of hand after that. He, non-too-gently, yanked her to her
feet and dragged her, mouth still fused to his, below deck with him. The heat had been
threatening to consume them as he ran his callused hands down the smooth skin of her arms.
Terri moaned deep in her throat as A.B. kissed a burning path down her neck before pausing to
gently nip and suck at her collarbone.
She pulled his mouth to hers again, undulating her hips against his, showing him without words
what she wanted from him. All thoughts of propriety and duty and just plain common sense were
banished from that cabin as A.B. first stripped Terri then himself nude. Taking the briefest
moment for protection, he rolled on top and slowly slid into her.
Neither was able to keep quiet that moment. It felt *so* good. There was no way in hell that he
could stop, even if he wanted to. He felt bonded to her at that moment as she slowly wrapped her
arms and legs around his back as he began to move. His controlled rhythm soon snapped as
Terri moved beneath him, whispering his name with every breath. He couldn't understand this,
couldn't look away from her beautiful expressive face as she exploded with a keening cry that
sent him over the edge as well.
In those few minutes while they tried to catch their breath, Stiles hadn't thought about anything
but how right it felt to have Terri in his arms. And so in true Stiles fashion, he had pulled away.
And everything was lost… everything was lost.
*~*~*~*~*~*
Stiles' Apartment 2007
Stiles awoke with a jolt. The feeling of loss heavy on his heart. Sighing wearily, he switched off
the television, chucked the beer-bottle in the kitchen trash, checked the alarm and headed
upstairs for bed. He made a short pit stop at Alex's room, smiling softly as he surveyed his
sleeping son had kicked away most of the sheet. He righted the sheets before closing the door
and heading off to his room.
As he stripped down to his boxers and slid into bed, he hoped he would have a dreamless sleep.
No such luck, of course….
TBC…
A/N: Well, if it's TBC that depends entirely on how many reviews I get. Just a few things: As you
can probably tell, I know absolutely nothing about the characters or what happened when Stiles
and Terri slept together for the first time, so I just made something up. Trust me, if I knew, the
dialogue would have been a lot cleverer. Anyways, if you like, when you review you can post
what actually happened, and I'll revise the chapter. Well, I'm out for the moment. Ciao!
P.S: Thank you to those who actually *did* review!
Title: The American Family: Chapter 4
Pairing: A.B. Stiles/Terri Lowell
Disclaimer: See Chapter 1
A/N: Well, I'm playing truant here and deciding to post another chapter, but with the distinct lack
of reviews ::sniffle:: I don't even know if I should even bother. Please R&R. The feed back is the
only thing that keeps me writing and knowing that the story is still being read, so don't be stingy
and try to make a silly 16-year old feel better, ok?
*~*~*~*~*~*
With a weary sigh, Stiles settled his exhausted body onto his couch and twisted off the cap on his
beer-bottle. He wiped his tired eyes as the fizzy alcohol slid down his throat, and he could hear
the muscles in his neck pop and crack as he slowly rotated his head.
::Jesus, how can a four year old have so much damn energy!:: he wondered, as he propped his
feet up on his coffee table and switched on the TV. He still pondered the question as his tired
mind recapped the events of his night from when Terri had practically shoved him out of the
house.
He'd had all intents and purposes of driving straight to his apartment, plopping A.B.2 in front of the
tube with a Barney video or two, some milk before brushing his teeth and then carting him off to
bed so he could enjoy some peace and quiet. Of course, where a four-year-old was concerned,
nothing was ever so simple.
As soon as they'd stepped through the door, Alex had wanted ice-cream; then chocolate milk;
then he wanted to watch a Batman cartoon, not Barney; then he wanted to eat pizza like his
Daddy, although he'd had dinner before he'd left home. He knew that Terri would kill him if Alex
had pizza after dinner, but he gave it to him anyways to stave off the imminent whining.
When nine o'clock rolled around, and Batman video number 2 was over, A.B. had announced it
was time for bed. Of course, A.B.2 would have none of it, and decided that a spontaneous game
of hide-go-seek would be fun to play with Daddy, so it had taken Stiles, the bad-assed CIA agent,
another half hour to find his precocious little four-year-old hiding in the laundry basket.
A wriggling match had then ensued and it took another further ten minutes to get him up the stairs
and into the tub. The problems had then arisen again. Of course, A.B.2 had wanted every single
floating object in the house in the tub with him, but had to settle for a rubber ducky and a toy
ship… or two… or three. Then, when sailing along the Atlantic wasn't very fun any more, Soak
Daddy with an Impromptu Tsunami became the game of choice. So before he could finally drag a
decidedly clean A.B.2 from the tub, Stiles had become effectively wetter.
Thankfully, after all the splashing and giggling at his drowned-rat father, Alex had finally begun to
feel the beckoning of Dreamland. He had obediently brushed his teeth under his father's careful
supervision, and stepped into his Sesame Street pajamas before Stiles had to obligingly lift him
from the bathroom and carry him to bed. He had been too tired to even ask for his customary
glass of water and bedtime story. All he could muster was a very sleepy: "G'night, Daddy. I wov
you," before his sleepy eyes closed and he became a resident of dreamland. ::For at least eight
hours, hopefully:: Stiles couldn't but hope.
He kissed Alex's downy cheek and switched on his nightlight before closing the door and heading
to the bathroom to mop up the flooded mess. Now, forty-five minutes later, he sat flipping through
the Spam that was Friday night TV, trying to keep his mind off Terri and her date.
At the mere thought Stiles' had gripped the beer-bottle tightly, his grip almost at breaking point.
Now that he had the time to think again, he couldn't help but feel the cold sting of jealousy and
the inane knowledge that he had messed up. Big time! Reflexively, he took another swig of
alcohol, draining the bottle.
::Damn!:: Stiles was pissed… nothing new there. But he was especially pissed that he was here
thinking about her, and she was probably having the time of her life, giving that lucky bastard The
Terri Smile. The one that was so cheeky but shy, sexy and full of promise; the one that made her
eyes twinkle and turn smoky at the same time; the one that sparkled like stars on a perfectly clear
dark night; the one that reduced a man to a mass of quivering knees and tied tongues, fraught
with adolescent feelings.
::Goddamn it!:: Stiles slammed the beer bottle down on the table and clenched his jaw. He knew
that the reason his and Terri's relationship was so screwed up was because of him. If he hadn't
been such an arrogant, cold little bastard, who knows what could have happened? But the truth of
the matter was that he treated Terri Lowell like crap. And no matter what she might have felt for
him, a woman like her wasn't going to stand for his bullshit.
But Terri Lowell scared him, and Agent A.B. Stiles wasn't scared of anything, least of all a petite
brown-haired Graphics Designer. Who just about knocked him flat on his butt… literally!
In the beginning, he had been intrigued by her, and very, very attracted. She was different from
the women that usually caught his eye. Perhaps, the fact that she actually knew who Socrates
and Plato were and could tell the difference between Miles and Coltrane had something to do
with it. Along with the fact that she *had* knocked him clear off his feet. Terri Lowell sure had a
way of grabbing a man's attention!
Then came those many nights of working together. She had circled him like a caged dog, wary of
every move he made. They'd worked close together, but they had known nothing about each
other except what was in each other's dossier. It was a strange time then. The air between them
had just been fraught with sexual frustration, and it wasn't clear when one of them would snap.
Then came Capri….
It was the single most mind-blowing experience of his life. It had yet to be topped. He could still
remember the gentle sway of the yacht in the marina, the sun's rays reflecting off the white
fibreglass, Terri's sexy little lavender bikini, their opening conversation and then… the most
amazing sexual experience of his entire life.
He could remember thinking that first time with Terri was like coming home. And that moment had
been so profound it was scary. But while he couldn't seem to get enough of her physically,
emotionally, he began to shut her out: missed calls, cancelled dates, non-existent conversations.
Until he had gotten another craving to be with her again of course.
And so the cycle had continued, until Terri got frustrated and pissed off and said enough was
enough! Whatever it was that they had… it was over!
And he felt as though he had died. He kept watch over her, at a distance of course, and so that is
why he had been so torn up inside when she'd been kidnapped. Why he'd been beside his mind
with worry and the fear that she might be killed, and why he had been willing to risk anything: his
career, his life, in order to get her back.
And he had. His standing with the CIA had been a little shaky for a while, but none of that had
mattered because she was alive and safe. The night he found her, and she'd had been debriefed
and cleared to go home, she hadn't wanted to be alone, and he was in no shape to deny her. He
couldn't keep his hands off her after she asked that he take her to his apartment. It had been
upstairs in his very own bed that he had poured his body into her, and they'd conceived their son,
and unbeknownst to Terri, he'd given her a piece of his heart, not just a piece of his DNA.
But then for a change, *Terri* had been the one to pull away. He was wounded to realize that she
regretted their night together, and she had been cold and indifferent to him ever since then,
especially when informing him: "A.B. Stiles, you are the sire of my child." Times had been hard
since then, and it was nobody's fault but his!
Heaving another exhausted sigh, A.B. rested his neck on the back of the couch. He closed his
eyes, only for a second. But before long, his exhausted body dozed off, only to plague his mind
with memories of Capri…
*~*~*~*~*~*
Capri 2003
A.B. perched on the bow of the yacht, enjoying the slow, almost playful swaying of the marina
waves against the sleek lines of the boat. He sat in the shade of the overhang, careful of the
sun's rays reflecting off the deck. It was hot that day, and his lack of clothing was the way he was
dealing with the heat. How they both were dealing with the heat.
A.B. could hear Terri's footsteps as she came from below deck. He cocked an appreciative
eyebrow as he took in her lavender bikini and silky sarong. She cocked a matching eyebrow as
she undid the knot at her hip and the material pooled at her feet. At that moment, A.B. felt as
though he had been punched in the gut. Terri's legs went on forever: long, strong and shapely.
Incredibly sexy!
Terri adopted his position next to him, and together they stared out at the crowded marina. He
could hear her rhythmic breathing beside him and could smell the suntan lotion that glistened on
her skin. The wavy hair that had at times fascinated him was pulled back into a messy ponytail.
This was not the Terri Lowell that he was used to. He was used to the sleek sophisticate who was
quick to smile at anyone but him. A woman who was impossibly sexy.
This rumpled, laid-back Terri was someone he would have to get used to. Especially if they were
expected to continue their charade of two American jetsetters very much in love with one another.
A role they played so well in public, but one they had to perfect in private.
"Tell me about yourself." His request came so out of the blue that Terri had looked at him as
though he had sprouted horns and another head.
"What do you want to know?" she asked. "*Why* do you want to know?"
A.B. shrugged indifferently. "I dunno… everything. As to why… how are we to upkeep this
charade of bein' oh so in love if we don't know anything about each other?"
Terri arched an eyebrow. "We'll manage just fine Agent Stiles. We don't have any other choice.
Unless you want to end up with a bullet in your skull of course."
A.B. smiled tightly. "Well, I know you're sarcastic at least."
Terri rolled her eyes. "Everything you need to know is in my dossier: I'm 34, born in Fargo, I'm a
Graphics Designer, and I've worked for the CIA for the past four years."
"Married?"
Terri turned an exasperated eye on him. "Divorced. Why would you bother asking if you know the
only reason I joined the CIA is for my talent which was so amazingly squandered after my
asshole husband cheated on me and left me with a company worth jack?"
A.B. grinned. "Sound's much more interesting when you put it that way."
They lapsed into silence. "Fair is fair. What about you, Agent Stiles? What's the A.B. stand for?"
Stiles chuckled and shook his head. "I told you already: Absolute Bastard."
"Oh jeez, I forgot," replied Terri sarcastically.
And so, the conversation had continued and had actually evolved into good-natured bantering.
Although they had ceased being so hostile to each other, and were actually having a civil
conversation, Terri shrewdly noted that A.B. kept dodging the personal questions, and was
indeed drawing *her* out.
As the day progressed to dusk and eventually night, they supplemented their conversation with
good seafood and even better wine. The alcohol and the cool breeze on her body loosened
Terri's mouth and both their bodies. And before long, Stiles found himself giving into temptation
and leaning across the small gap between their bodies and capturing her lips with his.
She'd tasted a little like Shrimp Fettuccini, Chateau Briand and tiramisu on the surface. But as her
mouth opened beneath his, he tasted a flavour that was distinctly Terri, soft and feminine, and
with definite experience.
Things had definitely gotten a little out of hand after that. He, non-too-gently, yanked her to her
feet and dragged her, mouth still fused to his, below deck with him. The heat had been
threatening to consume them as he ran his callused hands down the smooth skin of her arms.
Terri moaned deep in her throat as A.B. kissed a burning path down her neck before pausing to
gently nip and suck at her collarbone.
She pulled his mouth to hers again, undulating her hips against his, showing him without words
what she wanted from him. All thoughts of propriety and duty and just plain common sense were
banished from that cabin as A.B. first stripped Terri then himself nude. Taking the briefest
moment for protection, he rolled on top and slowly slid into her.
Neither was able to keep quiet that moment. It felt *so* good. There was no way in hell that he
could stop, even if he wanted to. He felt bonded to her at that moment as she slowly wrapped her
arms and legs around his back as he began to move. His controlled rhythm soon snapped as
Terri moved beneath him, whispering his name with every breath. He couldn't understand this,
couldn't look away from her beautiful expressive face as she exploded with a keening cry that
sent him over the edge as well.
In those few minutes while they tried to catch their breath, Stiles hadn't thought about anything
but how right it felt to have Terri in his arms. And so in true Stiles fashion, he had pulled away.
And everything was lost… everything was lost.
*~*~*~*~*~*
Stiles' Apartment 2007
Stiles awoke with a jolt. The feeling of loss heavy on his heart. Sighing wearily, he switched off
the television, chucked the beer-bottle in the kitchen trash, checked the alarm and headed
upstairs for bed. He made a short pit stop at Alex's room, smiling softly as he surveyed his
sleeping son had kicked away most of the sheet. He righted the sheets before closing the door
and heading off to his room.
As he stripped down to his boxers and slid into bed, he hoped he would have a dreamless sleep.
No such luck, of course….
TBC…
A/N: Well, if it's TBC that depends entirely on how many reviews I get. Just a few things: As you
can probably tell, I know absolutely nothing about the characters or what happened when Stiles
and Terri slept together for the first time, so I just made something up. Trust me, if I knew, the
dialogue would have been a lot cleverer. Anyways, if you like, when you review you can post
what actually happened, and I'll revise the chapter. Well, I'm out for the moment. Ciao!
P.S: Thank you to those who actually *did* review!
