The Beloved Dead

by ghost-orchid

AU piece Myers is a woman & Liz is Hellboy's friend. A mission in Louisiana reveals Myers's past to Hellboy. Based on the movie, not the comics.

2. When I Change Your Mind

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from Hellboy.

Summary: Conflicts arise in professional and personal relationships at the BPRD as they prepare for the trip to Louisiana.

Chapter 2–When I Change Your Mind

Hellboy looked at the faces in a semicircle around the big mahogany table in the conference room. Manning stood at the head of it. Big surprise; his ego wouldn't take anything else, plus he was running the briefing. Clay sat at his left, his face set in the FBI's standard guarded mode, while Liz sat on Manning's right, her eyes focused on the tabletop. Abe Sapien sat on Hellboy's right. To someone unfamiliar with Abe, his amphibian face might seem expressionless, but the demon knew how to read him. Something that had happened down in Louisiana had upset Abe, and deeply. But even the evidence of his friend's disquiet could not distract him from the real focus of his attention: Joanna.

She sat on Liz's right, across the table from him, careful to keep distance between them. Her head was bent over the papers Manning had passed out to each of them, but he thought that was only so she wouldn't have to look at him. Once again she wore her little power suit, a navy one with the usual white button-down blouse that now matched her sling, but instead of the gold chain she wore a pearl necklace. The white of the pearls seemed to glow against her skin. Hellboy remembered what her arm had looked like stretched over his chest. And her hair was back in its headache-inducing bun. He liked the braid better than the bun. Should he tell her that? He couldn't help letting his eyes caress her. She was alive. That was what he had been repeating to himself from the moment Manning told him she'd been shot. He had not lost her. The picture he had of her bleeding to death on some scumbag's floor wasn't real. She had been hurt, but she was alive. Now she was with him and she was safe. Whether she liked it or not, he would see that she stayed that way.

Manning was saying something, but Hellboy tuned him out. It wasn't like Abe wouldn't fill him in later, anyway. No, what he needed to think about was what happened between them. For the past month, ever since he had watched her on the security cameras, he had been thinking about some way to approach her. Just asking her, "Hey, would you sleep with me," didn't seem to be quite the way to do it. Joanna seemed like a woman who needed some–what was the word, finesse? Besides which she was all hung up about having to protect him. That was his biggest obstacle. And since he didn't have any experience with women, he figured his skill at seduction could probably be measured in negative numbers. He might have asked Liz for suggestions, but he wasn't ready to go that public with his intentions. Hey, who was he kidding–Liz had figured things out the second he'd asked for one of her snapshots of Myers. The next day Liz had appeared with a Polaroid of her, standing in front of the door to her room, a little smile on her face, wearing the power suit in gray. It was Scotch-taped to the headboard of his bed now, along with pictures of Father and Abe and Clay. He didn't know whether she'd noticed it or not, but he knew Clay had. The man missed very little, but Hellboy hoped he didn't see much significance in it. He had a feeling she'd object to everybody at the BPRD knowing he wanted her before she did, but there might not be much he could do about that.

When Clay had come in with his breakfast that morning, Hellboy had seen a moment of pure shock in the man's eyes before the FBI mask snapped back into place. Sure, they were lying on his couch, not in his bed, and they were both completely dressed (as far as Clay could see), but she had spent the night with him. Part of her job description was best friend, but that stretched the definition of friendship. He wondered if Clay planned on talking to anyone about it. Oh, she'd love the gossip if that happened. But come on, last night both Liz and his former liaison had been worried sick he was going to hurt Joanna for going on that raid, or at least chew her out good and proper. They should be glad he'd been so good to her, kept her warm, let her sleep, taken care of her, for God's sake.

And after she'd woken up–his body tensed at the memory. Where had she gotten the nerve to ask him that question? More important, how had he gotten up the nerve to actually put her hand on him? Even if she was pumped full of painkillers, for a minute he figured she'd give him a good whack in the face, jump up, and storm back out to her own room. But she hadn't done that at all. She had traced his cock with her fingers, caressed him, and he had given himself over to her. It felt so different when it was someone else's touch, especially when the someone else had such soft, gentle hands. Most of the time her eyes had been closed, but the expression on her face had been one of complete peace. Touching him had excited her, though; he knew from the way her breath had come in quick little pants and she had gotten much bolder in her explorations. He still couldn't quite believe that when Clay had broken things up, she'd been in the middle of giving him a hand job, and he'd had to rein in a strong impulse to kill the other man. Hellboy didn't think he was being too optimistic for believing that with enough time and the right approach, good things could happen with her. And no more displays of Clay's bad timing. He'd have to put a towel on the door next time or something, because there most definitely was going to be a next time.

Hellboy had calmed down enough by the time Clay left to get his pants zipped back up. "You heard that, right?" he asked Joanna. "Manning wants us in for a briefing."

She sat up, moving her injured arm carefully, flexing the fingers of her hand, the same one that had been wrapped around his hard cock. His leather pants became uncomfortably tight at the thought. "I'll go back to my room and get dressed."

"Myers, I think we probably should talk about this."

"We have no time. It'll keep until later."

He gave in on it–no reason to piss Manning off any more than usual, especially with the scare he'd thrown into the man yesterday–and handed her the sling that had lain unused on the table since the night before. "Put that on. Your arm needs the support."

Taking the sling from him, she fitted her arm into it and pulled the strap over her head. Her eyes met his, just for a moment, and a delicate pink blush moved into her cheeks. He thought she looked lovely. "Hellboy, I'm–"

"Don't say you're sorry. I'm not."

She bit her lips and nodded. "I'd better go get dressed."

So he watched her leave, her jeaned hips moving in their usual hypnotic way, until the vault door closed behind her. Even though he'd gotten very little sleep and was still simmering with unreleased energy from his near-miss with her, he was feeling good as he got dressed for the meeting with Manning. And why shouldn't he be in a good mood? Myers was coming around, and he was about to go on a mission, stop all this sitting around and get some paranormal kick-ass going on. He didn't do leisure time too well.

"The center of the paranormal activity in this case is the town of Carrefour, Louisiana, population 561, founded in 1720 by refugee French aristocrats." Manning looked down at his notes again. "Some real winners there–one of the town's founders was Richard de Lavelle, Comte de Courtalain. He'd been one of the members of a society of black magicians led by the defrocked priest Etienne Guiborg, which included Madame de Montespan, at the court of Louis XIV. Another was Sara Lemagne, the Baroness de Chantennal. Her history's a lot more detailed. Reads like a romance novel. Apparently her husband the Baron died of some mystery illness–our researchers think it was rheumatic fever–and rumors spread that she'd used witchcraft to kill him. One of the church fathers who arrested her seemed to have the hots for her and kept her alive as his mistress, imprisoned in an out-of-the-way monastery in Normandy with her five-year-old daughter Odette. According to the history the Archbishop wrote, the Baroness used her magic to bewitch the guards at the monastery and make herself and her daughter invisible so that they could escape."

"Probably bribed them to look the other way," said Joanna.

Manning gave her a look, then continued. "When the monks discovered she had escaped, they sent guards after her and she sold her soul in return for a blizzard to slow down her pursuers. The search party lost her in the storm, after which she and her daughter managed to reach a seaport and sail to Louisiana. She and de Lavelle supposedly met in New Orleans and thought it was a good idea to found a little town where they could keep to themselves. Hence the town of Carrefour, which caught our interest because of a recent pattern of murders in the area." He nodded toward Abe, who took over the briefing.

"The paranormal disturbances that first drew our interest began about seven months ago. They began as seemingly ordinary poltergeist activity, but it involved the entire town. It didn't get much play in the Weekly World News or the tabloid shows because Carrefour is quite isolated. It's located on the edge of a swamp in southern Louisiana and the only people who go there are passing through on one of the back roads or have gotten off the interstate somehow. The poltergeist activity continued for about a month or so, then the apparitions appeared. They tended to be dead relatives, trying to give a warning about something but being prevented and then vanishing, although we did get some pretty colorful reports of assorted creatures in the swamps. Paralleling these reports were the killings. The first victims were transients passing through the area, prostitutes, truck drivers, people who took the wrong exit off the interstate. Because they weren't native to Carrefour, they weren't reported as missing for quite some time. Only in the last two weeks did we begin making connections between the missing and the activity in that area."

"But the victims didn't remain transients," said Clay.

"That's right. In the last six weeks, a total of nineteen people have gone missing from Carrefour itself. Out of those nineteen, ten of them have since been found dead. We assume that the killers or killers is still holding the others prisoner. Full details on the victims are provided in your briefing papers."

"Why have you ruled out an ordinary serial killer? The paranormal disturbances and the murders may have nothing to do with each other."

Abe looked at Joanna. "From the condition of the bodies. Despite the decomposition, there were certain physical injuries that no normal murderer could have produced."

"Such as?"

"They were partially eaten, and the teeth marks match no known scavengers in the area of Louisiana. Or anywhere, for that matter."

She inclined her head. "Point taken."

Liz spoke for the first time. "Do we have any ideas on what could have done that?"

Manning answered for Abe. "Not at the moment. That's why we're leaving for Carrefour next week to conduct a more in-depth investigation. We've rented a house there, even more isolated than the town. Hellboy and Abe will stay there as much as possible. Our cover is that we're a camera crew from one of the tabloid news shows that's doing a story on the paranormal activity. I'm the producer, Clay's the sound man, Sherman is the camera operator, and Myers is the on-camera talent."

Hellboy sat up. "Myers can't go. She got shot yesterday, in case you don't remember. Aren't you going to put her on medical leave?"

The Director kept his eyes as blank as glass, reflecting everything, revealing nothing. "I understand that she is unable to function in her usual capacity as your backup. For this mission Clay will back you up. She has an observer role because I feel sure she is indispensable on this mission." He closed the file in front of him, a sure sign the meeting was over. "If you have any further questions, don't hesitate to contact me."

During the exodus out of the room, Abe put a hand on Hellboy's arm. "I need to talk to you, right away."

He nodded, watching Joanna leave the room. Much as he'd rather not, it seemed he'd have to wait to have the talk with her about last night. "Better be good, though. You don't know what I'm giving up for this."

"I think I have some idea. Remember, I am psychic."

Hellboy thanked God he couldn't blush. "You get that from me or her?" Wait a minute–Abe could tell him what was going on in her head. Why hadn't he thought of that before?

"You." The amphibian kept silent for a few minutes as they walked down the corridor toward Father's study, where his tank was. "I pick up very little from Agent Myers."

Interesting. Most people were crystal to Abe. "Why is that?"

"She has the strongest mental shields I've ever encountered. On a few occasions I've been able to read her, normally when her emotions overcome her, but other than the first time I met her, I've never gotten any specific factual information from her mind. What I can pick up on is generally her emotions. For example, during the meeting today I had no idea what she was thinking or feeling. She was quite guarded." Abe got back into his tank and sighed with relief at the embrace of the water.

That was very unusual. Some people had natural mental barriers in place that could block his ability, but in the years that Abe and Hellboy had both been at the BPRD, they had encountered individuals like that maybe once every ten years or so. "I believe it. She's the type to have been born with shields up."

"Our Agent Myers wasn't born with this talent. It's learned, and she uses it consciously. Haven't you noticed she won't stay in a room with me for more than twenty minutes? Shielding herself probably takes up too much energy for her to sustain longer than that."

Hellboy leaned against the wall, thinking. "Father told Liz she was a limited empath. Maybe it's a defense from being overwhelmed by her ability."

"Limited is the key word. This shielding–do you remember Return of the Pink Panther when the tour guide picks up the diamond and the alarm goes off and those steel security plates slam down over the doors and windows? It's just like that Her powers simply aren't great enough for her to need this level of protection." He hung upside down in the tank, looking at Hellboy, unblinking. "I don't want you to take this the wrong way, but perhaps you should keep somewhat more distance from her than you have been, at least until the end of this mission. Manning knows something about her that he isn't willing to reveal, and I got the distinct impression that it was not good."

"So you think she could be dangerous to me? That she'd hurt me?" Anger grew inside him. No way. No way could Joanna do anything like that. She'd risked herself too many times, gotten hurt for him too often. What was between them was not a lie. He knew it.

Abe's lips compressed and Hellboy knew he was restraining irritation. "Not consciously, no. From everything I have sensed about her, she means well. She isn't some hired psychic assassin or demon from another plane of existence. But the fact that she can shield herself leads me to think that she may have other abilities we don't know about."

"You said you sensed things about her the first time the two of you met. Like what?"

Abe shook his head. "Just little things. Her middle name is Therese, after her mother's older sister. She was born in Kansas City. She got the scar on her chin when she was ten years old and she's afraid it will never fade. When I mentioned that, I felt a blast of pure fear and the shields came down. Agent Myers is quite good at that. Professor Broom never noticed a thing and she kept a smile on her face the whole time."

Hellboy thought about it. "Something to do with the scar?"

"I think so. Have you ever heard her say anything about it?"

"No. I've never heard her talk much about her past at all." Except for Hansel, but he saw no reason to share that with Abe. "Liz might know more. She and Myers seem to talk."

"Have you read her personnel file?" Hellboy shook his head no. "I think it might be a good idea if you did. Maybe it would give us an idea why Manning thinks she's indispensable for this mission. He doesn't throw words like that around casually."

The idea didn't sit well with him, because that seemed like spying on her, but Abe's observations threw him. That Myers had some sort of paranormal abilities wasn't that surprising–Father had some special reason for choosing her–but that she was strong enough to keep their resident psychic from rummaging through her mind was. Shields like that involved training. He doubted that her FBI personnel file would tell him where she had gotten trained, but it could give him clues about her past. He knew he could simply ask, but he very much doubted she'd tell him. When he'd asked about why she left psychiatry, she'd answered, but it had been vague, and he'd sensed her relief when he didn't press the issue. "I'll ask Manning for the files tomorrow."

"You're not betraying her, Red."

"I wish I believed that."

It was dinnertime before he saw her again, wheeling his meal cart into his room. Clay wasn't with her, which surprised him. And she had removed the sling again, which irritated him. He'd have to talk to her about taking better care of herself. And what about Manning and Clay? How did they expect her to handle all that food alone? "You know I'm not going to let you strain yourself with all that lifting. It's bad enough that Manning's insisting on you going to Louisiana."

"I can handle both." She took hold of one of the big stainless steel bowls full of chili and started to lift it.

"Stop that, Joanna." She did stop, probably out of surprise that he'd called her by her first name. "You really do have a problem admitting you can't do everything. Why do you think you bring me all my meals, rather than me getting them myself?" He raised his stone hand in front of her face. "I don't have the manual dexterity with this one that I do with my left. It doesn't grasp very well, so I couldn't lift one of those bowls alone. But if we do this..." He moved to her left and took hold of that side of the bowl. "You take one side and we can move this together." Joanna took the right side and they lifted the bowl onto the table, where the other three bowls soon joined it. Hellboy let her move the nachos alone, figuring they were light enough for her to manage. When she was done, she cast a quick look at the door.

"We still need to talk about last night."

A sigh escaped her lips. "I was kind of hoping you'd forget about it."

"Last night, or the talking about it?"

"Either."

"The chances of that aren't good." In fact, he didn't think he'd forget one second of it until the day he died, if then.

She looked around for a place to sit down. He suppressed a smile when she realized it was the couch or his bed and selected the couch. Hellboy sat down next to her, but kept a comfortable distance. No need to make her more jumpy. "I know you don't want to hear me say I'm sorry, so I won't. But I behaved irresponsibly. All this is entirely my fault. I don't have any excuse for it. My job is to protect you, and I can't do that effectively if I am sexually involved with you. There's a reason they don't let married cops be partners."

"Last time I looked, we weren't married." Oh, sure, he knew what she was getting at, but that didn't mean he had to make it easy for her. No matter what she said, he was not giving up on her. He would not let her push him away.

"That was just an example. They frown on cops who are lovers working together, too. It's a matter of judgment. We would lose objectivity. My judgment couldn't be trusted when it comes to you, and you can say this wouldn't happen as much as you want, but I know you'd feel the need to protect me, probably enough to lose sight of the mission."

"We protect each other, Joanna. That's part of the job." Inside he started to feel sick. She had that stubborn look on her face that said she wouldn't be talked out of it, but he was going to have to do it.

Joanna sighed. "You know I think you protect me too much now. It'll only get worse if we...do what we were thinking of last night. Can you tell me you'd sleep with me and still be willing to sacrifice my life to kill some monster you're fighting?"

"I wouldn't sacrifice anybody! Not Clay, not Liz or Abe, not you."

Leaning forward, she took his left hand in both of hers. "The choice may not be up to you. I'm afraid you'll forget that, in the end, I'm worth less to the BPRD than you are."

"What are–"

"Let me finish. I'm an FBI agent. Last year seventy-five other people just like me graduated from the academy. Any one of them could do my job just as well. But you, Hellboy, you're one of a kind. They couldn't replace you in a thousand years. That's what I mean when I say the BPRD would much rather lose me than you, and they certainly wouldn't thank you if you got yourself hurt or killed trying to save someone who is pretty much a disposable part."

"Nobody thinks of you like that." She was starting to piss him off, talking about herself that way.

"Anyone who lacks the abilities that you or Liz or Abe have, in the eyes of the BPRD, is expendable. Director Manning might genuinely regret my death, but he would understand the need if it was a choice between my survival or yours."

"So my judgment's off if I'm not going to toss you down some monster's throat to buy myself an extra five seconds to get my gun out? Is that what you're saying?" She sighed and opened her mouth to keep talking, but he was tired of it. Gripping her hands, he pulled her against him and brought his mouth down over hers. Even his being pissed off at her didn't make him rough as his left hand released hers and went to the back of her head, pulling the pins out of her hair and raking his fingers through it until it fell over her shoulders. He felt her gasp into his mouth and took advantage of her shock to slide his tongue inside. She tasted good, like chocolate. Hellboy hadn't known she had a sweet tooth. His hand cradled her neck and angled her head slightly as he continued exploring her mouth. His first kiss. Why had he waited this long to kiss her? Whatever reason he'd had, it wasn't good enough.

Her hands came up and grasped his arms, but she didn't try to push him away. Instead she let them rest there, just above his elbows, her flesh cool against his skin. For a few moments she didn't respond to his kiss, her lips quiet beneath his, making him wonder if he was doing this right, but then something seemed to break inside her. A violent shiver ran through her and she was kissing him back, her hands sliding up his arms until her fingers were buried in his hair. He grasped her hips and lifted her until she was in his lap, then he slid the navy jacket of her suit off her shoulders. She barely seemed to notice, but did release her grip on him long enough for him to remove it and toss it aside. Hellboy hated to give up her mouth, even temporarily, but he eased their faces apart and stared at her, her dark eyes hazy with passion, the lips still half-open. "You want me, Joanna. Doesn't matter whether you should or whether you want to. And we're going to do something about it."

She struggled for breath as his fingers brushed the neckline of her silk blouse, demurely open at the first two buttons. He undid the third button and saw the leading edge of the bruise that Tsai's uncle's bullet had left, a death flower in rich shades of purple over her heart. Supporting her with his stone hand at her back, he leaned forward and placed his lips against the bruise. It radiated heat and he felt her shudder at his touch. Without thinking he ran his tongue over it. A whimper escaped Joanna, but he didn't think it was pain. The taste of her filled his mouth, salt and a hint of gardenia and woman. If she had been a demon female, he would have been able to heal the bruise this way.

Confused, he lifted his head from her. Where had that thought come from? He didn't know anything about demon females. When he'd passed through Rasputin's portal he'd been a baby, too young for mating, too young to know anything. But he knew the thought was true, and that worried him a little.

Joanna tried to regain her composure, no easy trick while she was straddling Hellboy's lap. "Did you hear a word I just said? We can't do this."

He held her in place, his worry of a few moments ago pushed to the back of his mind. "I heard you. One thing I didn't hear, though, was that you don't want me, and that's the only thing that would stop me."

"God, you already know that. Would you have believed me if I lied?"

"No. I'll make a deal with you. Sooner or later you'll come around and decide you want to be with me because that is how you feel. Until then, we just try this on for size. You let me do some..." He paused, stuck for a tactful word.

"Exploring?"

He smiled. "Yeah, that's it. Let me do some exploring with you. Nobody has to know about it, if you're worried about what Manning will do or what the other agents will say."

"Manning could fire me for getting involved with you."

Her hair was in her face, and he smoothed it back. God, it was just as soft as it looked. He wanted to bury his face in it. "I don't think he will, even if he does find out. It wouldn't be something he's comfortable dealing with. Plus, he might think you could keep me in line better if we were involved. And if it starts affecting my fieldwork the way you think it will, we'll stop." Of course he had no intention whatsoever of doing that, but he wanted to let her get used to the idea of being with him, ease her into being his girlfriend before she knew what was happening. One step at a time. He didn't have much patience, but for her he would develop some. "Did you know that you're the first woman I've ever kissed?" She shook her head and he noticed her lips were fuller, darker than they had been before. Because he had kissed her, she looked this way. Something inside him growled with pleasure at the thought. "You're the only woman who's ever touched me the way you did, too. And I want to feel more of that."

"Liz–she makes more sense for you–the two of you don't work together much–"

It was a weak, last ditch attempt to keep things as they were, but she needed a whole lot more firepower than that to fend him off. "I don't want Liz. I don't want anyone except you. Think about it, Joanna. Do you really want me to be alone forever?"

Her eyes widened with dismay. So she did care enough about him not to let that happen. "That's impossible. You can't expect me to think I'm the only woman you've ever met in your life who's wanted to...well, who's let you touch her like this."

Hellboy let the tips of his fingers trail over the side of her face. So beautiful and strong, and she was his, whether she realized it or not. No way was he letting her go. "You are, though. I've never seen a woman naked in person, either. I want to see you like that."

"And if it messes up your fieldwork, we'll stop?" He nodded. She caught her lower lip between her teeth for a minute, then made a decision. "Okay, but–pardon my language–I don't think we should fuck yet. Just exploring for now, like you said."

Damn it. Well, he should have known better than to think he wouldn't have to do some groundwork. He could wait. Not that he liked it, but he could manage it. "I have no problem at all with that, Joanna. But I want to see you now."

"All right." Her voice was dark and sweet as molasses as she smiled at him, then leaned forward to press her mouth against his. He let himself drift with the feeling as her hands touched his face, traced its contours, their coolness making him shiver and sending all the blood from his brain straight into his groin. Then she pulled back enough to let him look at her and began unbuttoning her blouse. Quickly she pulled it free of the waistband of her skirt and off her body, dropping it on top of her jacket. The bulky white bandage around her upper left arm reminded him of how fragile she was, that he needed to be gentle, but that thought slipped away. Underneath she wore a flesh-colored lace bra with a little bow in the middle, between her breasts. The bruise over her heart made her skin look even paler. He brought a finger up and traced its outline as she reached behind her back and unhooked her bra. For a moment she hesitated, then let the piece of lace fall from her torso.

She was every bit as perfect as he remembered. More than a hint of shyness crossed her face as he stared at her for long moments, unspeaking, until he drew her forward until his mouth touched the hollow of her throat, her pulse beating rapidly beneath the skin. Her arms went around his neck and she murmured with pleasure. Hellboy ran his mouth up the side of her neck, nipping gently and feeling her shiver. "You're beautiful," he told her. "I've never seen anything as beautiful as you."

"I still think this is a bad idea," she whispered.

"I know. Do you want to stop?"

"Hell, no." She grinned at him and he laughed. "I have to get off you to take my skirt off. Do you mind?"

"Yeah, but go ahead."

Joanna unbuttoned and unzipped, the skirt pooling at her feet, and he learned that she wore stockings and a garter belt regularly, since he doubted she thought she'd get laid while bringing him his dinner. This time the garter belt was white and her panties were some light shade of purple. He didn't protest when she removed the garter belt and stockings. When he touched her, he wanted nothing between his hands and her body. She let out something between a gasp and a sigh as she pulled down her panties and stepped out of them. "Can't believe I'm doing this."

That makes two of us, he thought. He stood up and peeled off his T-shirt. Nothing more right now, since he didn't want to make her nervous, and the sight of his arousal just might do that. "Would you lie down on the couch?" The couch was safer than the bed, less official.

She did, stretching out on her back, and he let his eyes go everywhere. As she watched him, he knelt beside the couch and rested his stone hand on her thigh. Her eyelids fluttered a little, but opened again when he brushed his normal hand over her shoulder and let his fingers slide over the swell of her breast. Her body fascinated him, so soft, he thought, until he reached the nipple, tight and hardened. He traced its edge, making endless circles until she groaned. "You can put your mouth on me if you want." Her voice held an edge of frustration that called to him.

"You want me to?"

"I wish you would." At that he leaned over her and took her nipple into his mouth. Joanna's body arched up into him, her hands digging into his back, drawing a growl from him. She loosened her grip. "Did I hurt you?"

He lifted his head and his breath against her made her squirm. "No. It feels good. You don't have to be afraid of hurting me. You won't."

Joanna reached up and stroked his face. "I'd like to be that sure." Without warning he took one of her hands and raked her nails across his chest. Hard. She squeaked with surprise and sat up, but no blood appeared. "Hellboy!"

He kissed her again, his tongue moving against hers, reassuring, until she fell back onto the couch. "Trust me." His hand closed over her other breast and teased the erect nipple, but his kisses grazed her ribs, moving downward to her belly. She was sensitive there, so he took his time, stroking her with lips and tongue, letting the roughness of his goatee tickle her, tracing patterns on the delicate skin with his fingertips, until she writhed, no longer able to bite her lips and keep silent. Her pleasure noises went directly to his groin and he had to fight for control of himself. This, now, was for her. A little later, he knew, she would do as much for him.

His stone hand moved from her thigh to her knee and nudged her legs apart. Placing a last kiss on her hipbone, he released her breast and slid his hand between her thighs. The suddenness of it drew a gasp out of her, which was followed by a groan as he found her clit and began caressing it. Her hips jolted upward and he felt the tremors in her legs. "Oh...oh, yes...Hellboy...please don't stop. Please." Her hands fluttered, restless on his back, his shoulders, until her fingers found the grooves of the designs on his flesh and settled into them, tracing the occult symbols until he became dizzy with her touch. He maintained the rhythm he found she liked, but as much as he wanted to, he didn't lower his head to the sweetness between her legs. That was for later; he wanted to satisfy her, yes, but leave her wanting more. Then she would come back to him. Hellboy focused on that idea and used it to keep his self-control as she surrendered herself to the need of her body, the pounding of his own lust barely held back at the erotic spectacle of her surging up into his hand with a high-pitched cry as she climaxed. The expression on her face–rapture, and he had given her that.

Time passed–he had no idea whether it was seconds or hours–and the next thing he knew, she was unfastening his belt. Surprised, he looked at her. "Joanna..."

"You'll get as good as you gave, Hellboy. I still feel guilty that we didn't finish what we started last night. I would have, but Clay walking in was bad enough. I didn't want to chance that happening with Manning. Can you imagine that?" There was a teasing note in her voice he'd never heard. He started to say something, but then she found his hardness and the power of speech deserted him. "Mmmm. That's gorgeous. Would you lie down on the couch now?"

Was she crazy? Of course he would. Joanna moved off the couch and he took her place, but she didn't kneel beside the couch as he had. She straddled him, one knee on either side of his thighs, and leaned forward on her hands until her lips touched his chest. A deep growl rumbled out of him, and he felt her smile. "That means I'm doing it right?"

"Perfect." He had to suppress a gasp when she took one of his nipples in her mouth and began to suck. Did it feel like that for her? No wonder she liked it. And that was the last coherent thought he had before she used her teeth, just hard enough to send a shock of arousal through him. Nothing but sensation existed for him now. "Just do it. I can't take this any more. Please."

Joanna quickly unfastened his jeans and slid them over his hips. His hardness jutted up at her and she caught her breath. Was she frightened? He tried to say something reassuring, that he would never hurt her, but before he could get the words out her hands were on him, stroking, moving over his length. She hadn't even taken the time to get his jeans all the way off. "Good. Good," he gasped as she took a firmer hold. Beautiful, her hands on him, deft and sure, pale against his crimson. He felt the orgasm building, twice as strong because of his earlier frustration, but nothing would happen this time, no one would interrupt her, oh God, her hands, wonderful, yes, don't stop, then he couldn't hold back one more second as he came with a full-throated roar of pleasure. When he regained his senses, he found himself lying boneless on the couch and gasping for breath. She tried to climb off him, but he pulled her back beside him until she lay down.

They didn't speak for a minute or two, then she lifted her head to look at him. "It's a miracle we don't have half the BPRD in here with their guns drawn."

"Why?" He couldn't care less, but he liked the teasing gleam in her eyes.

"If they didn't hear that all over the complex, they're stone deaf. I'd figure they would think you're being killed."

"You did kill me. I haven't got the strength to sit up. If a monster breaks in, we're both dead meat." A shadow crossed her face, and he mentally kicked himself for reminding her of the job, the need to protect him. But she put her head back down on his chest and he slid his arm around her shoulders.

"I'll have to leave in a little while," she told him. "I have a meeting with Manning in a couple of hours, then I've got to bring you your next meal."

"I look forward to that." He wanted to ask what she was talking to Manning about, but that would ruin the mood, the quiet satisfaction he thought she felt as much as he did, and he wasn't ready to do that. Tomorrow he'd ask Manning for her personnel file, but right now he just wanted to lie with her and pretend there were no secrets. Just for a little while. The real world would come calling soon enough.