Chapter 19: Manila Morning

Aaron felt a peculiar feeling in his gut as he opened the sliding glass door to the shower and stepped in. It intensified as his eyes fell upon Marta standing under the stream of water. She faced away from him, the water flowing over her head, cascading through her hair. His gaze followed the rivulets of water making their way down her body. Marta shifted to set down a bar of soap and scrubbed her face, taking extra care to wash the remaining make-up from her eyes.

Mesmerized by the sight of her, it took Aaron a few minutes before he could speak. "I'm sorry," he finally said.

Marta sighed and turned to face him with sad green eyes. "I'm sorry, Aaron," she said, taking a step closer to him. He met her advance and wrapped his arms around her. She continued, "For everything you've been through and for my part in what's been done to you. You're a good man, Aaron Cross. You don't deserve any pain my work has caused you."

"Kenneth may have been a good man," Aaron shook his head, his face a dark, haunted mask. "I'm not. But, you didn't do that to me. I don't blame you or hold you personally responsible. I didn't mean for it to seem like I did, or to hold any involvement over your head. I'm actually grateful the program brought me to you. But, it has to be stopped. The government making thoughtless killing machines out of its soldiers-taking all humanity out of them-can't be allowed to continue. I have to end it."

"I'll help you," Marta promised. "It may not be enough, but whatever I can do, I will."

Neither voiced that today they would fight a determining battle in that war, though both were well aware of that reality. Instead, they stood in silence just holding each other for a while until Aaron placed a kiss on her head and spoke in a brighter tone to ease the ominous mood.

"I didn't mean to kill this morning's afterglow with my baggage. Enough of Outcome ruining our happiness."

"I'll second that," Marta replied, looking up at him with a plaintive smile. Aaron leaned down to place a chaste kiss on her lips, after which her smile brightened.

"It would take a lot worse to kill that afterglow," she laughed.

Aaron's big, piercing blue eyes shined and he kissed her again, lingering this time with building passion. When they stopped to take a breath, Marta stepped away to reach for the shampoo, anxious to get the necessary business of the shower accomplished first. Aaron watched as her arms lifted to wash her hair, without shyness or reservation. He relished the new intimacy between them and desired even more.

"Let me," he said, stepping forward to bring his hands to the suds at her scalp. Marta dropped her hands and let Aaron take over, his fingers massaging the substance through her wet hair. He took his time, enjoying the sweet smell of the shampoo and the feel of her locks flowing through his fingers.

When the foam became thick, Marta tipped her head back to rinse it out, closing her eyes as the water flowed over her. Task completed, she brushed the water from her face and was about to open her eyes when she felt Aaron take her head in his hands. His thumbs traced the lines of her brows, cheekbones, jaw and lips. He brought his own lips to hers, his fingers in her hair again, tilting her head to deepen the kiss. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed herself to him.

Marta was soft and supple in his hands, her skin slippery and warm. He felt his own heat rise, and took a deep breath to steady himself-he wanted to take this slow. He moved them again so that only he was under the water and grabbed the bar of soap. He pulled away to lather it up and smiled mischievously.

"Let me," he said a second time and drew close. He spread the lather under her chin, down her neck and over her shoulders. He set the soap down and rinsed his hands, then slowly wiped the cleansing film from her skin. He grasped the bar of soap again and repeated the action, this time down her arms. He entwined their fingers and brought her hands to his mouth. He kissed, licked, or sucked each of her fingertips while he walked her back a step to the tiled wall at the end of the shower. He lifted her hands above her head and pressed them against the tiles with a squeeze.

Martha took the hint and kept her hands there as his drew suds down the underside of her arms and over her ribs. Aaron paused to lather up again and set the soap to the side. He spread the bubbles over her armpits and, embarrassed, Marta immediately tried to cut him off. He only chuckled a "Nuh-uh," in reprimand and returned her wrists to their place, above her head. He held them firmly in one hand as his other continued rubbing her clean. He stuck his face into the flow and filled his mouth. He turned and squirted the water into her armpits, then laughed so hard he nearly lost his footing when she squealed and squirmed.

Marta flushed an angry red and tried to pull away from him, but was laughing, too. It dawned on Aaron that she was ticklish. She was in for it now. He braced her more firmly against the wall and stuck his tongue right into the middle of her left armpit. Marta gasped and twitched violently. She screeched, but the sound stuck in her throat as she struggled and fought to escape the torture. Aaron couldn't remember anything funnier and barely avoided a wild kick when bent in laughter. He retaliated by wriggling the tip of his tongue into her right armpit.

Marta finally gasped enough air to scream but it was broken up with quaking laughter, "Stop it! Stop it! Please," she begged, "Aaron, stop!".

He relented at her pleading but continued to laugh as she bucked against him to shove his head from her body. She tried to pull her arms down but he continued to hold her in place.

"I'm sorry," he apologized, mirth lacing his voice as his laughter died down. "I'm sorry," he repeated more seriously, when he could, and attempted to kiss her. She turned her head in spite, to avoid him, before swiveling it back to challenge him.

"No, you're not," she accused, seeing the smirk that played about his lips. She narrowed her flashing green eyes at him.

Shamefully bemused, Aaron replied, "Well, I apologize for not being sorry."

Her indignation quickly subsided as she recovered. She landed a somewhat playful kick and finally chuckled with him but was still catching her breath. Aaron didn't stop his eyes from dropping to her heaving chest. Any remaining amusement escaped him.

"You're right; I'm definitely not sorry."

With that, the teasing mood swiftly changed to a heated one. Aaron released his hold on her wrists and her arms fell to her sides. He reached around her but his hungry blue eyes never lost their focus. He took up the soap, again working up a lather in his hands before setting it down.

Marta told him, "You can drop the pretense."

Aaron stopped and looked at her, scandalized. "First of all, this is not a pretense. Who knows when we'll have another chance to bathe like this. You'llregret not taking full advantage of this shower if we're wallowing in filth a week from now."

Marta groaned. "Stop. I'm not ready for reality yet."

"Neither am I," Aaron confessed, and set his soapy hands on her hips and squeezed. "But secondly-don't interrupt me." He locked his eyes on hers and continued his task.

When finished, he came close and embraced her from behind. He whispered that he loved her and Marta leaned back into him and folded her arms over his. They stood together a minute, enjoying the feel of their wet bodies entwined. Then Aaron stepped away to brush aside her hair and brought the bar of soap around to coat her back. He used the slippery film to rub circles into the muscles of her shoulders and worked his way down her spine and over her entire back. He focused on her neck and the base of her skull until her head lolled to the side.

He kissed her exposed neck before leaning back to grab the bottle of conditioner. He squirted some into his hand and put the little bottle back on the self. He gathered up her dripping hair and massaged his fingers into her scalp until he could feel all the strands were well-coated and soft. He pulled Marta into the water that was now running tepid to rinse off. Fortunately, the Manilan heat had begun to seep into the day and the water felt fine. Aaron held her close, still amazed that he shared such an intimate relationship with the doctor. He hauled her in tight against him and lean his forehead to hers.

"I can die happy now," Marta laughed breathlessly. She puzzled at the look on Aaron's troubled face then reality came crashing down, bursting their blissful bubble. She closed her eyes, grimacing, and sighed, "I suppose we need to get ready now."

Aaron nodded silently. He committed the sight of her, the water flowing over her skin beautifully and peacefully, to memory. His prominent blue eyes were sorrowful when Marta's eyes met his. He was reluctant to budge.

"We'll beat them," she encouraged, grasping his hands in hers to pull him out of the shower with her. "We have a good plan. We get the program medication, we get to the U.S., and we find Jason Bourne."

The mission was clear and it was time. Aaron steeled himself and was the rebel agent Cross once more.