I Thought It Was You 3

By Athena13

Yeah, McNat, it was an intentional reference. Just when I'm ready to give up on Jolie they suck me back in.

PCGirl - happy birthday! Hope we get a chapter out of you soon!

Thanks everyone else who sends reviews. It's what keeps me writing! And for the record, I have no earthly idea what's going to happen next in this one!

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Chapter 3 - How Does It Feel?
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John is the one who found the presence of mind to pull back. He didn't let her go. His hands slid from her hair down her back to her hips. His face was centimeters from hers.

"Do you know what it did to me to think that was you?" his voice broke.

She shook her head, unable to form words. Her mind was screaming "tell me, dammit."

Just as John opened his mouth to speak the telephone on his desk began to ring.

"Don't you need to answer that?" Surprisingly, it was Natalie who stepped back.

John frowned as he heard the resignation lacing her voice.

"No. I need to answer you."

"It might be your girlfriend." Natalie's face was now filled with anger. Anger at her weakness for this man and anger at him for making her feel desperate.

"I'm not answering it."

"I'm tired of this bullshit, McBain. The next time you want me you come to me."

"I called you here to question you. About a crime. Remember?"

"Did you get any answers with your tongue down my throat?" Natalie shot back.

"Damn it, Natalie. Sit down before you pass out and your uncle fires me." Wearily, John pushed Natalie towards the couch. He bent down and picked up the blanket and gently put it back around her shoulders once she was seated.

"For the record, whenever I try to do what you claim you want you're the one who runs away. After Atlantic City, when your mother was in the hospital, you're the one who hooked up with Paul. And just now you used the telephone."

Natalie looked away and closed her eyes.

"There was a delivery man in the kitchen before I went into the storeroom. I never saw his face. He had the hood of his sweatshirt up." Natalie opened her eyes and looked at John.

John blew out an audible breath and grabbed a paid and pen from his desk. He pulled a chair up and sat himself down, tiredly, to take down her statement.

"What was he delivering?"

"Looked like vegetables, or something like that. He seemed tall. I...young. He seemed young. Like in his twenties, early thirties."

"You didn't see his face, how can you say that?"

"Well, um, his form seemed fit. His ass was firm." Natalie flushed and shrugged.

"How tall was he?" John asked dryly.

"Um." Natalie closed her eyes and thought back. "I'm not sure. Definitely taller than me. By a few inches, at least. He was kind of not standing up tall."

"Anything else?"

"No. He was gone when I came out of the storeroom. The back door was open."

John nodded, he remembered closing it himself when he went to Natalie cowering behind the refrigerator.

"Thank you," John said.

For a long moment they looked at each other, neither daring to speak. Natalie broke first. She stood up and clasped the blanket around her.

"For the record, John. You're just making excuses. If you wanted me you could have had me." Not bothering to wait for an answer she was sure she wouldn't get, Natalie turned and walked to the door. Her hand was on the door knob when John spoke, surprising her.

"Then I'm done with excuses. I want you."

Natalie closed her eyes and swallowed the tears that coated her throat. One snaked down her cheek to be soaked up by the rough blanket.

"I think it might be too late," she said when she could speak.

"Don't say that." John's voice was harsh.

"John. I don't feel..." before she could finish Natalie swayed and began to slide to the floor.

In a flash, John was behind her and caught her as she passed out.

"I need help in here!" he called through the door.