With a long, drawn out sigh, Ian saved all the open documents and shut down the unnecessary ones. He slouched down the in chair, putting his face in his hands. He rubbed his tired eyes that were red from lack of sleep and staring at the computer. He sighed again and closed his eyes, his head still in his hands.
He heard soft, padding footsteps entering the dark office, moving from where the doorway to the office was, and getting closer to the desk at which he sat. He felt no need to open his eyes or look at who advanced through the darkness because he knew who it was. Only one other person lived in the apartment with him: Miranda. He had known her for a long time, and he loved her deeply. He probably loved her more than she realised. Never had a woman held so much sway over his thoughts and actions before. Miranda did not realise the power that she had over him and he made a point of never showing it or trying not to show it too openly. He would do anything for her. Anything…
Even though he heard her coming, he still twitched slightly as he felt her soft, caressing hands on his shoulders. As she rubbed the pains and aches from his tense shoulders; that had appeared after typing for all of the day, he sighed again in contentment. He heard a soft giggle and felt her lean on his back. She lovingly ruffled his feathery blonde hair and slowly, traced her fingers down his jaw. He slowly exhaled and leant back into her arms.
Miranda walked around in front of him and sat down, straddling over his strong legs to face him looking dangerously alluring in her almost see-through pyjama top. Slowly, blearily he opened his red eyes to look at her. She gave him a concerned look and gently drew her thumb across, under his right eye. He leaned into her touch and tilted his head towards her caressing hand.
"You will come to bed now, wont you?" she said, less so asking more so telling. "If you don't stop working your eyes are going to fall out, Ian."
He smiled at her witty statement and she lovingly wrapped her arms around his neck. He slowly rubbed his left hand up and down her back and buried his face in her beautiful blonde curls. They sat there for a moment, and then Miranda sat back to look at her tired boyfriend. She loved him deeply also, and hoped that the same feeling was returned. As a small girl she had always worried that no one would ever love her. But then boys came and boys went, but Ian was the only man that had come… And the only one that had remained. If he left her now, he would leave her in pieces, and visa versa. The point was, they loved one another but neither felt any great need to get married yet. They were both quite happy with the way things were.
As she regarded him with loving eyes, she lifted a hand to run through his blonde locks. He flinched away as he saw her hand raise through half-closed eyes, but moved back to his original position when he realised he was under no threat and closed his red, tired eyes once more, annoyed in case he had hurt her.
For a long time she had questioned him about his slightly nervous disposition. For several weeks now he had been flinching at her unexpected movements. It had never been like that before. Not before the Declaration of Independence Affair anyway. She wondered and questioned what had happened to make him so… jumpy. But never had he satisfactorily answered, or he changed the subject quickly or pretended he hadn't heard.
As she ran her hand gently through his hair he rested his hands on her slim waist. Miranda lifted her other hand to rest in the crook of his neck. His neck being his weakest spot, she used this information and manipulated his weakness to her own ends. She could make him do anything this way… Anything…
She smiled, rubbing her thumb over the place on his neck where she could feel his pulse… where she could feel it quicken at her touch. Normally, Ian was a calm and collected sort of man and the slow steady pulse and heart rate that he possessed calmed Miranda generally. But sometimes, she felt the need to make his pulse quicken. Some nights she felt… slightly lonely, and she wanted to know that she was needed. She wanted to know that she had some sort of power over Ian, like he did over her. She didn't want the relationship to be boring for him. She wanted him to feel that he didn't always have to do the legwork or be the strong one. She wanted him to know that she would always be there for him and she herself did not want to feel weak and vulnerable.
Of course, not that Ian ever would make her feel like that- apart from in a sensual way. A way that she liked, and a way that she was making him feel right now. Using the hand that she ran through his hair, she slowly tilted his head back so that she had better access to his neck and throat.
She moved her thumb over his neck and straight down the middle of his throat. Over his Adam's apple and down, only pressing down slightly on his windpipe. She felt him swallow hard and she leant forward, brushing her lips gently over his. She felt his pulse quicken under her hand and smiled. Every so often she liked being in control and whenever there was a chance of this, she went to the ends of the Earth to make it happen since these moments did not come often. Only lately had Ian been showing signs of tiredness and fatigue regularly. She felt that it had something to do with his nervousness also… She was beginning to get worried and wondered what he was keeping so secret from her.
Gradually she moved her hand down to teasingly caress his bear collarbone. He exhaled deeply and shakily, and rubbed his hands over her waist almost absentmindedly, his eyes still closed, head resting on the back of the chair.
She moved her hand further down, unhurriedly pushing the collar of his smart black rugby shirt open. Now the majority of the top half of his muscular chest was exposed to her touch. She kissed him tenderly again, fingering an old scar that ran along his chest with a loving contact. Her other hand had a fistful of his blonde, feathery hair in her grasp, just to make sure he didn't lift his head or resist her touches. Of course she didn't expect him to, even if he had had the energy to resist her he wouldn't have. At the moment he was completely under her control.
She removed her right hand from his exposed chest and entwined it around him to softly caress his back. She lifted the bottom of his rugby shirt up so that she could rub his back with nothing between their contact. Still kissing him deeply she traced each of his ribs, the whole way up and back down again. She began to kiss the side of his throat now, holding even more power over him now than she had before. He shivered under her touch but only rubbed her back in return showing no resistance to her comforting ministrations.
The pair felt no need to go further in the sense of lower regions or Miranda's chest. The intoxicating pull that one had over the other was enough to give them both satisfaction for the night.
The kisses remained gentle as Miranda began to rub calming circles up each of Ian's vertebrae. Then without warning, she stopped, and pulled away from him.
"You will come to bed now, won't you, Ian?" she said, once more telling instead of asking. He nodded in reply and she stood up, offering him her hand, and they walked together to their large bedroom.
When they reached the bed, Miranda turned Ian around so that she stood behind him and began pulling off his clothes, to which he did not protest. Then, when he wore nothing but a pair of black boxer shorts, she pushed him backwards onto the bed. He sat down and rubbed his face with his hands as Miranda disappeared into the shadows.
He didn't see or hear her return… all he felt was an arm around his neck and a warm hand on his chest, pulling backwards. He followed and found himself lying back into Miranda's lap.
He looked up into her eyes, blue orbs that he found he could never look away from. She smiled and began soothingly stroking his hair again and lightly rubbing his lips with her thumb.
"I love you," he said quietly so she could just make it out. She smiled in return and drew her fingers over his eyes so that they closed and leaning forward, whispered in his ear: Sleep…
The next morning, Ian slowly awoke feeling slightly less tired than he had been last night, but not completely himself again. He hadn't been himself for weeks and it was beginning to wear him down. What didn't help any more was that work was pilling up and seemed to be never-ending. No matter how long or hard he worked at something, it never seemed to make any difference. The only thing that had been keeping him sane lately was Miranda. She comforted him by just being there, being unconsciously supportive.
He opened his eyes slowly and looked around the room. However, to no avail. He blinked a few times to clear the fuzzy blanket that seemed to cover the world, and then everything became clear. One thing that did not become clear, in spite of his blinking was where Miranda was. He did not lie beside him and the apartment was still completely in darkness, the thick curtains keeping out all traces of sunlight that would otherwise enter the bedroom.
No lights were on and he could hear no movement from anywhere. Panic would be the wrong word to use, but fear and dread crept into him for an unexplained reason. He knew that there would be a perfectly logical explanation for Miranda's absence but all reason seemed to have left him. His eyes searched the room again, even though he knew that she was not there. He strained his ears to hear something, but there was no sound to break the creeping silence.
"You're awake already?" came a voice from the doorway. Ian jumped and his eyes shot towards the door. Seeking out Miranda's silhouette, he sighed and lay back down from the propped up position he had held before on his elbow.
"I wondered where you'd went to," Ian said closing his eyes and trying to relax. All the rest that he had gotten had just been obliterated in the last few seconds. He felt as if he had run a marathon.
"I was just in the kitchen…" she replied walking back into the room silently.
"You were very quiet about it…" Ian replied looking towards Miranda. She kneeled on top of the bed and looked down at him.
"Well. I'm here now, and I'm fine," she smiled. She leant over and brushed a few stray strands of hair away from his eyes tenderly.
Now was as good a time as any, wasn't it? Miranda decided that now was the time to find out why he was so jumpy and nervous lately. They had been together a long time and she thought that they should hold each other in high enough confidence to trust each other with their secrets. But she expected that with Ian's past record, he had quite a few dirty secrets hidden beneath the surface. She felt she wouldn't have to dig very far to find them. It would just be getting him to tell her. He had never been very good with trusting people… even her with secrets. No matter how big or small.
She decided.
She swung her leg over his waist so that she sat on top of him. She was no featherweight but he could still move her if he wanted to. She would need to start with a soft approach. She resolved that the only way to get her off would be to throw her off, and she hoped that he loved her enough not to risk hurting her. She knew he loved her, but did he love her enough to trust her with secrets he didn't want to tell?
"Okay, Ian. You trust me, don't you?" she said flicking her hair back away from her face.
He looked at her, surprised and confused before answering.
"Of course."
"Will then I think that it is time that you stopped avoiding the issue? You knew that it would come to this sooner or later surely. You know that I am not one to just sit back and worry and not do something about it, don't you?"
Ian sighed and looked away from her. He knew exactly what was coming next, and he had a feeling that she wasn't going to let him wriggle out of telling this time. But how desperately he didn't want her to know…
"I trust you know what I'm talking about?" Miranda asked.
Ian nodded still not looking her in the face. She leaned forward and kissed him passionately.
"You should know that you can tell me anything by now…"
"Yes I do, but I'd rather not tell you," he said sitting up, but Miranda resolutely pushed him back down again.
"You've been tired and weary and not yourself since you came back from that week in jail. Plus you've been as nervous as hell. What happened?" she said, taking a firm hold of his wrists and holding them on the bed, just to make a point.
She wasn't in any way adequately restraining him. With his well-toned arms and chest he could throw her off him at any time and she knew that. She was just trying to get her point across. To make sure he knew that she wanted to know for his own good.
"I haven't been nervous. I don't know what you're talking about Mira," he said. Using her nickname.
She made a sudden movement with her arm as if to hit him. As much as he tried his natural reactions took control and he flinched.
"NOT NERVOUS?" she was shouting now. But not out of anger, it was out of fear for the love of her life.
"YOU FLINCH AT ANY SUDDEN MOVES I MAKE! YOU PULL AWAY WHEN I TRY TO TOUCH YOU, you are not yourself. What is going on, Ian? What happened in that week?" Miranda asked, letting go of one of his wrists to brush another lock of shaggy hair from his face.
"Why is it important? Does it really matter to you?"
"Yes! I love you; I want to know everything about you. I want to be able to help you with your problems."
"You can't help with this."
"I can try. Can't I. There's no harm in trying. Now trust me, as you once did." Miranda said sitting back to give him some space.
"Whenever you have a reputation in the criminal community like mine… well… " Miranda nodded encouragement. This is the furthest she had ever gotten and she wasn't about to let him stop now.
"You can be pretty well known. Infamous, almost. And… when you get put into a medium security prison, things don't always go your way…"
Miranda was still confused. She had a feeling about what he was getting to, but she didn't want to jump to any conclusions.
"Please elaborate."
"Not all thieves are friends with all other thieves. Not all cops are neutral, even though the bastards are supposed to be. Lets suffice to say I wasn't too popular around the place… With anyone. Not even Victor or Phil. They weren't too fond of me either after I got them chucked in prison. It was pure fluke that the court had no real evidence to sentence me."
Now everything made sense to Miranda. Flinching would be a natural reaction after being beat-up continually for a week. She doubted he would have slept very well since he was not the only occupant of the cell…
And his explanation brought a memory to her mind that had previously vacated the premises;
There was a knock on the door. Miranda had no need to wonder whom it was. She had been waiting for him all morning, after getting the phone call that he had been released without charge, she had ran madly around the apartment doing her best to tidy it as she had neglected her cleaning activities that past week out of worry.
She opened the door and saw the smile and immediately jumped into his arms. Unwanted tears began to fall from her eyes. She felt like such a whimp. But she had been so worried about whether he would be found guilty or not.
He hugged her back and she pulled away. She noticed a slightly pained look on his face.
"Is something wrong?" she had asked.
He shook his head and smiled, the pain expression leaving his features and his hand dropping from his ribs where they had been.
"No. Of course not. I just missed you that's all," he had reassured her. And in her joy, she had thought nothing more of that small happening, but now it was relevant.
Now it all made sense. She leant forward and touched the cut that ran over his eyebrow and dangerously close to his left eye. It had been there from he returned. She expected it was just something that he had gotten on his journey. She had asked and he had confirmed this thought. "Just a scratch," he had said. It's never just a scratch.
"I take it that's how this happened?" she said. "Can I maybe see your whole chest now? And your ribs? In the light?"
Before he had as nonchalantly as possible not let her eyes fall upon his naked upper body in any decent light.
She reached to pull off his shirt, but he grabbed her hands.
"Lights?" She had walked over and turned out the lights.
By the time she had returned he had taken his shirt off himself. She could not see him properly in the darkness. It hadn't mattered then…
"Why? It's just a few bruises. Nothing special." She looked at him. "If you must," Ian answered.
She moved back slightly so she could pull down the white cotton covers…
The bedcovers revealed a battered and still bruised torso. There were large patched of purple bruising positioned over his ribs. There were cuts on his chest, only beginning to heal properly now.
She moved her fingers lightly over his torso. She had the same control over him again as she had last night. But this time for the wrong reasons.
"Why didn't you tell me? I could have helped."
"How?" he asked sceptically.
"Well for a start I could have refrained from doing this," she said leaning forward so that all her weight was on his bruised body. He gasped and put his hands on her waist, trying not to squeeze. She then rolled about a bit; moving and recreating the movements she had made a few nights before, referring to their night of passion.
He gasped and tried to push her off. She got up and looked sadly down at him.
"You must have been in agony… And you didn't tell me?" she said, a slightly hurt edge to her voice.
"There was-… You had enough on your mind already… With your wee sister in hospital and your job and your boss going AWOL. I didn't want to add something else to your list of problems."
She smiled slightly at him.
"Okay. Lets forget about it now."
"I agree," Ian replied. She got off him and lay beside him, resting her head on his shoulder, she ran her fingers over a few of the cuts and bruises lightly. Ian watched her hand, not worriedly, unconcernedly.
Maybe it wouldn't be so bad after all?
Okay, so it's not perfect. I know that, it's just I love Ian and I want to be Miranda! But I'm not
Oh well. Will you pleaseeeeeeee review? Please, just for me. And then I shall post the next chapter as soon as possible.