Who? M/N (post-Assassin verse, this would take place after the big incident in the storyline, which I am too lazy to write at this moment.)
Mish rating.
Trench
He supposed if he really looked at the signs, the reason and deeper meanings behind his actions, he would recognize the undeniable facts which presented themselves, classic and undeniable. However, as any of his friends would tell you, Nicholas Worthington had always been a stubborn man, and refused to believe what was as plain as the patrician nose on his face...
Her contract with the British government had ended, successfully. The Prime Minister's life had indeed been put in danger, but no one in the public would ever hear of the heroics from behind the scenes. The finished document, the 'for eyes only' dossier detailed a proud moment in Nicholas's career, but many within the organization knew it was a stunning Greek assassin for hire who had really saved the day.
Which was why, even though he knew she wouldn't care, nor ever read the reports that outlined her efforts which minimized unnecessary deaths and put a very bad person into custody, he wanted to try and make things right. It was a gloomy day in November and he found himself inside a high end boutique in Knightsbridge. He had long ago memorized her measurements, so it was easy to tell the pretty salesclerk what size to order. He instructed the beautifully wrapped package to be delivered near the end of the day to her charming coffeehouse – newly reopened and already busy again.
"Would you like to write a message?" The green eyed shop assistant asked.
Nicholas thought to himself, wondering if Leda would know it was from him. He didn't want to take credit and didn't care about the price. But, would she make the connection that this gift was to replace the one which had been utterly destroyed in the chaos? Would she see it as the 'thank you' he intended it to be...? A small gesture for all she had done for him and his country?
"No, thank you, please just have it delivered."
Three nights later, he sat alone in his sparsely decorated apartment, unsure what to do or where to go next. The department had given him clearance for a full two weeks paid vacation, entitled for his "services rendered to country." Sipping his Guinness, he placed his pint glass down and sighed. Images of the Maldives, Sri Lanka, or the Seychelles leapt into his mind. The beautiful destinations would be nice, especially in the company of a scantily clad brunette…
A knock on the door caught his attention. A private man, there were very people on earth who knew where his inner sanctuary was located. Checking the CCTV, he saw a recognizable female at his front door.
Opening the door, he crossed his arms and leaned on the frame, stating, "If you're here to tell me 'thank you' it's entirely unnecessary."
"I'm not here to tell you that."
Nicholas took a step back and admired the gift he had sent her. The impeccably tailored, classically timeless trench coat hugged her perfect curves. She had paired the outfit with stacked black boots, putting her at eye level with his plus 6 feet.
"What are you here to say?"
She stepped into his apartment, noted the surroundings and began untying the trench coat. She nodded to the closest chair and ordered, "Sit."
Her tone left no room for argument, so he moved quickly to sit down, wondering what could possibly happen next. Thoughts went out of his head, as his mouth went dry when Leda shrugged, ever so slowly, out of the trench coat he had purchased for her, revealing nothing more than a stunning set of lingerie. Nicholas, who had been without female companionship for the length of the assignment, went immediately hard at the sight, trousers straining as the coat dropped to the ground. Leda was everything he had dreamt of…a trim waist and generous breasts slightly flowing over the top of the green laced corset she was strapped into. Words escaped him. Why was she here? Was this some sort retribution for the boxing match? Would she leave him now that she had completely aroused him?
"I…"
"Yes? Still looking at my tits?" With the part of anatomy in question, she slowly trailed a manicured finger over the magnificent swells.
What else could he say? "I am."
"And what would you like to do with them?"
Nicholas thought through all of his training, desperately trying to come up with some response that wouldn't implicate everything he had longed to do since meeting her in the coffeeshop months ago. Forcefully sitting on his hands, he gruffly cleared his throat and said, "Right now? Or in general?"
"At this moment."
Unable to stand the situation a moment longer, he stood up and backed her into the desk she was closest to. Knowing she could've easily changed his momentum, he had to believe that she was allowing him to get this close, that she intended for her booted feet to leave the ground and wrap around his waist, to pull him in closer. In the small space that remained between their lips, he whispered, "Let me show you."