Part I: Bored to Death

Chapter: Ukulele

Myers was walking down the street, on the suburbs of Hamburg, and he was feeling Christmas. All the houses were decorated, there were Christmas lights everywhere and Christmas trees on the market places and street corners, plus he had walked through at least half a dozen small Christmas markets on his way from the nearest U-bahn station, Niendorf-Markt. He had managed through it all, through all the little stands and booths, full of delicacies and gifts, decorations and other things, by buying just one mug of gluhwein - which, by the way, had been great, warming his frozen fingers and calming his restless heart.

To be honest, he hadn't even remembered it was Christmas, not until he'd landed in Europe. Christmas wasn't such a big thing in BPRD, and he had planned to skip the traditional holiday visit to his sister's place in Boston too, as he still hadn't found it in him to tell her he'd been shot.

But here, in middle of the central Europe, you just couldn't forget what day it was. It was Christmas Eve, and suddenly Myers began to think, that perhaps this wasn't the best possible day to make a surprise visit.

To Hell with it, he decided. I've waited for four months, and I'm damn well not going to wait a day more!

He checked the address once more, from a crumpled piece of paper he dug out of his pocket, and realized he had arrived. It was an ordinary looking, two-storied house, made of red bricks, surrounded by a small garden. A cozy looking home, Christmas decorations in the windows and a few (rather creepy) garden elves on the porch.

This is it, then. Myers felt suddenly super nervous. Christ, I hope-

But he didn't know what he hoped for, really. This moment was as far as his imagination had let him go. Him standing on the sidewalk, in front of her house, trying to get his shit together.

He stepped to the porch, and rang the doorbell.

It was cold outside, he noticed now. His fingers felt freezing, and his breath vaporized.

The door opened, and Myers was looking at a small woman, perhaps in her fifties.

There were some gray strands in her short, dark hair, and everything about her seemed soft and round, and happy. She said something in German, and looked at Myers expectantly.

"Um…" Myers replied, suddenly feeling a bit stupid. "I'm sorry, do you speak English?"

"Yes, I do. How can I help you?" the woman replied, giving him a small smile.

"I'm looking for Margot Duval, and I got this address… so, um, is she home?"

The older woman took a look at him, from head to toe. "And you are?"

"My name is John Myers. I'm her… um, friend. I just…"

"You're the boy, aren't you?" The lady interrupted Myers' stammering.

"I'm sorry?" he asked.

"The boy who broke her heart. The one she's been longing for four months now."

Myers felt his cheeks blushing. "Yeah, I guess that's me. But in my defence, I had no idea she felt that way."

"That's what I thought." she stated, and stepped aside, to let Myers in. "I am Martha, and Margot is my daughter. Please, come in."

"So, is she home?" he asked, after the door closed behind him. "I can see, that this is bad timing - Christmas Eve, and all - but I just had to see her."

"Margot went out, but let me make you a cup of tea while we wait. She should be back soon enough. Give me your coat, John."

"Thank you." Myers handed his coat to Martha Heinemann, and followed her in.

They went to a large, cosy kitchen, and Martha asked him to sit down by the table, poured hot tea from a pot for both of them, and sat down as well.

Myers took the cup to his still cold fingers, and sipped carefully.

"So, you're here to put an end to all that weeping?" Martha asked, raising an eyebrow.

Myers cleared his throat. "Yes, Mam. That is my intention."

"Don't call me Mam." she stated. "But that's a relief. She's been impossible the last months! Doing nothing, but crying in her room, moping around looking absolutely miserable, and playing sob songs with her ukulele…. Oh, I've had quite enough of that."

"She plays the ukulele?"

"You don't know her too well, do you?" Martha asked with a small smile. "Yes she does, and sings too, very well. But lately it's just Slipknot or Sia, or some other stuff that makes her cry."

"Slipknot with ukulele?" Myers stated. "Really?"

"Don't ask." Martha Heinemann rolled her eyes. "The point is, she hasn't been herself since that mission in Prague, and as her mother, I worry."

"Yeah." Myers felt guilty, even if he knew it wasn't really his fault. "I'm sorry about that."

"Don't. I know my daughter well enough to guess this is entirely her fault." she sipped her tea. "So, what happened?"

Myers felt blushing.

"Well, to make a long story short - we fell in love, and she got scared."

"Sounds like her." Martha stated. "She's always been-"

But just then they heard the door opening, and someone stepped in.

"Mom!" a familiar voice echoed from the porch, followed by something in German.

"I'm in the kitchen." Martha replied calmly, in English. "Come here, there is someone to see you."

"Who's that?" Margot asked, and stepped into the room.

Myers stood up, forgetting all about his tea. Seeing her took his breath away.

Hair copper hair was a mess, her cheeks and nose were reddened by the cold weather, and she looked tiny in her winter coat and a long scarf.

Her eyes widened, and she gasped.

"John…!"

And she flew across the room, throwing herself into his arms.

He grabbed her, pulled her near, and her lips were on his in a heartbeat.

The kiss pulled him under, into her mind and made his head spin.

"Christ, Margot…!" he moaned into her mouth or into her mind, he couldn't tell. Her lips opened for him, her body bent against his, his fingers were in her hair pulling her close and he felt his heart melting.

She was crying now, her delicate form trembling in his arms. The salty taste of her tears became the taste of their kiss, and he felt them burning in his soul.

Finally, after an eternity, Myers broke the kiss, holding her small face in his hands.

"You stupid, stupid girl." he breathed, but with so much affection, it didn't sound like an insult. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Margot was crying, her voice just a sob. "Because I wanted for you to be free."

"I don't want to be free. I want to be yours!"

"But-" she tried to protest.

"Enough!" Myers interrupted. "Enough of this already."

"Of the stupidity?" She laughed through the tears.

"Of secrets. And lies. I love you, Margot, and I want you. All of you. Stop running away from that."

She stayed still for a few heartbeats, her eyes wide and dark - the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

"You love me?" she breathed.

"Didn't you hear me the first time?" he replied, and they both knew he meant the time he had died in her arms.

"Oh." she gasped. "I did."

And he kissed her again, this time even deeper. His lips opened hers, and she invited for his tongue to enter. He forgot everything, everything but her. Her scent of roses and cinnamon was on him, her petite body was trembling in his arms, their tongues found each other - and he just felt it in her mind, that she wanted for him to-

"Children." someone interrupted, and Myers broke the kiss, startled.

Christ, he had forgotten all about Margot's Mom! A deep blush crept to his face.

"I'm sorry-" he stammered, and Margot giggled.

"I'm going to give you two some time to talk this through." Martha stated with a calm voice. She was already pulling on her coat. "I'll go and pick Stefan from the airport, and do the rest of the grocery shopping while I'm at it."

"Thanks mom." Margot breathed, her cheeks rosy as well.

"I'll be back in two or three hours." Martha said, walking to the door. "Try to behave."

"Always." Margot grinned, and watched her mother leave. In the second the door closed behind her, she was back in his arms.

She kissed him, her lips demanding and hot on his, and he felt being pulled into a current he couldn't resist. Her body pressed against his, he felt her small breasts against his chest, and a hot tug of need flashed through his core. Margot breathed into the fire that burnt inside of him, wrapping her slender arms around his neck, kissing him with such passion that it took his breath away.

"You're still wearing your coat." he sent to her mind. "Do you want to take it off?"

"I want you to take it off." she was purring. "And all that I'm wearing."

Christ, the way she spoke to him! Her words sent a flash of lust to his veins.

"You sure?" he broke the kiss to take a look at her face. "We should probably talk-"

"You wanna talk or you wanna fuck?" she sent, biting her lip, but removed her coat at the same time, letting it fall to the floor.

He couldn't help but to laugh.

"Erm… both?"

"Not at the same time I hope! Except if it's dirty talk."

Dirty talk. Right. He remembered all too vividly the last time she'd made him talk dirty to her. How she'd glued his hands into the wall and made him tell her just what he needed for her to do. The memory made him blush deeply, as he was sure Margot caught the images from his mind.

"Hey, no games today." he breathed, his voice thick and low. "Just us."

"Okay." she smiled, her eyes wide, her pupils dilated.

But her hands were already on the waistband of his jeans, opening his belt and just the feeling of them, made him hard.

"Hey, wait-" he groaned.

"What?" she looked up to him, seemingly innocent, her fingers on the button of his jeans.

"Just one thing-"

"Yeah?"

"When we've… um-" he blushed. Damn, he was so not good at this.

"Fucked?" she helped, grinning sinfully.

"Yeah, after that. You're not gonna say that it was a huge mistake, and then dump me, right?"

She laughed, a soft, dark laughter, and pulled him into another kiss. "I promise."

Her hands were in his neck now, pulling him deeper into the kiss, sending jolts like electric current into his system, and suddenly he felt hot all over. But all too soon she broke the kiss, and their contact by taking a step back.

Christ, it felt awful to let her go! Myers gasped for air, trying to stay on his feet.

But Margot was smiling at him, taking a good look at him, from head to toe, her eyes stopping on the evident bulge on his pants.

"Come." she said silently, offering him her small, gloved hand. "Follow me."

And he did.

He knew he'd follow her to the end of the world, if she just let him.