A/N: Time to come out and play…
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Adam stopped, perplexed. He had been so wound up by the whole thing that he had burst into the room and had not noticed what was going on inside until after he'd finished talking. And now that he was seeing, he couldn't help but to blush. How awkward of him to walk in on Angell and Flack! How foolish must he look just then… and was Detective Angell wearing a leather vest? He blushed even more furiously when his brain registered the barely contained swell of her breasts… no wonder Flack had been holding her so close…. Well he didn't actually meant to make it sound like that, cause Flack was not one of those pervs that took advantage of women, he was more of the white knight… not that he would know about Flack being a knight, white or otherwise… and Adam was extremely grateful that this whole monologue had only ran inside his head and he had not stuttered any of it out cause judging by the look Flack was giving him, Adam was certainly his last favorite person in the world right then and there.
Flack was indeed looking at Adam, but not because he wished the lab tech would disappear. Actually, the detective was ashamed. Ashamed that the younger man had witnessed what could only be described as his weakness. And Flack was ashamed not only of showing weakness to his coworkers and peers, but of actually being weak. He was much better than this, he knew that; he had been raised much better than this, his father and Mother Mary Raphael and Coach Bartley had seen to that. And yet, here he was, behaving like a horny 15-year-old. He couldn't bring himself to look at Jenn in the face; he'd be lucky if she didn't report him on sexual harassment behavior. Hell, he'd be a lucky bastard if she ever spoke to him again! She was so much better than him… so much stronger than him…
As if to prove his point, she nonchalantly turned towards Adam, huge smile on her face.
"Thanks Adam, I'll be right there. Thanks Flack. I think I got the hang of it now. Guess it wouldn't do if I showed up on Saturday with a broken nose because I fell flat on my face for not knowing how to walk on these, huh?"
"Oh… okay… I guess I'll see you guys there…"
Adam hurried away as fast as he could, mentally slapping himself for his crazy ideas. Flack, always the gentleman, had gone to Angell's rescue in a moment of distress and there he was, making up a huge dark story behind the gesture. This case was getting to his head in a terrible, terrible way. Kendall would probably find the whole thing amusing and he wished he could be so carefree about the whole thing. Pretending to be gay was one thing; after all, it wouldn't be the first time his sexuality was questioned and he was fine with that. The whole pain and abuse part… well… he'd had enough in his own life to feel fine about it. He was nervous as hell about it, and although he wanted to believe he was going to be kept safe, he couldn't help but wonder what could become of him of some bad guy fancied him as a boy toy…
Once they were left alone, Angell's smile faltered a bit. She took an uncertain step back, her eyes looking everywhere but into his, and Flack noticed it.
"You okay?" he asked, trying to keep his tone neutral and his act together.
"Fine. Just need a bit more practice dominating these things from hell"
Her tone was also neutral, and almost managed to conceal the slight tremor in her voice. Almost. But not enough for him not to noticed that as well. But if she was going to play professional and pretend nothing had happened, he could extend her the same courtesy and play the same game.
"Shall we go then?" he asked, extending his arm in front of him, as if showing her the way.
"In a moment. I think I'd better go to the ladies room now. Lord knows when we'll be able to take a break. Why don't you go ahead and tell the boys I'll be there in a minute or two?"
He noticed she was still avoiding his eyes, and it hurt him, but he knew he had only himself to blame for that, so he put up his most cheerful smile.
"Whatever my mistress wants, my mistress gets…" he pronounced, bowing deeply in front of her, allowing her to walk in front of him without having to face him again.
That got her to chuckle and shake her head in disbelief as she clumsily made her way to the bathroom. Once the door was closed behind her, he allowed himself to crumble into the bench, his head between his hands, defeat written all over his hunched back.
He had blown it and he knew it. Whatever delicate balance had existed in their yet undefined relationship was now lost and probably would not be recoverable. He couldn't explain what had gotten into him, why he had reacted so strongly to her presence. Oh, he knew he found her attractive… more than attractive actually, and this wasn't the first time he'd gotten a hard-on on her behalf, either. She was too darn sexy, part of it being her utter lack of knowledge about it, which made ogling her even more delightful as she appeared to be clueless half the time.
But that same lack of awareness proved tricky every now and then, when her touch, innocent on her part, inflamed his sexual awareness. Her mouth had driven him to distraction more than once, and he could spend hours sitting at his desk or inside the car wondering just how it'd feel under his own mouth… or running over his body… or… he stopped that train of thought there. He already knew that Jennifer Angell sucking on an ice cream cone was a sight worthy of a dozen nights jerking off in the shower; he didn't need the visuals just then to make matters even worse.
Sighing, he got up, and with one last look at the bathroom door, he headed the other way, to face the guys from vice, and see what other crazy idea they had come up with since they'd last met.
Inside the bathroom, Angell was holding on to the sink for dear life and the high-heeled boots had nothing to do with it this time around. She held on tight because otherwise she wouldn't stop shaking and that simply wouldn't do. She couldn't show him that she was afraid… in her mind she could hear her father's voice booming: "Jezebel Jennifer Angell… the moment you show fear they'll eat you alive… you got too be better than them simply because you're better than them…" Good ole Sergeant Angell, always pushing his only daughter to do even better than his four sons.
And it had helped. It had helped survive four older siblings who first tried very hard to put her down because she was a girl, and then had simply forgotten that she was, indeed, a girl, simply treating her like another one of them. For years, she'd simply been J.J. Angell, one of the Angell boys, all going by their initials, some of them well into their Academy days, and T-K still used it to date; Angell wasn't sure if his coworkers knew that his name was really Thomas Kenneth. J.J. Angell, however, had died the day she hit puberty, when the fact that she was a female could no longer be hidden from simple view… and her mother had firmly set her foot against her running around with the boys anymore.
It had made her more determined to prove she was as good as any of her male relatives and peers. To be continually put to the test was nothing new to her, and she'd learned to thrive from those tests; she'd even come to expect them.
But now it was Flack who was testing her. Flack, whom she considered her closest and dearest friend. Flack, whom she regarded as a mentor and example. Flack, who had voiced doubts regarding the whole undercover assignment in general and her participation in particular. Flack had come to her apparent rescue only to test her and see if she was ready for this particular job and she had failed miserably.
She'd failed because she was not going to pull dressing the part as flawlessly as she should. She'd failed because she hadn't seen his test coming and had not been prepared to deal with the situation in an effective manner. She'd failed because another coworker had seen her weak and disoriented.
But she had failed mainly because she had allowed herself to react to him. Or rather, to his body. The biggest no-no in her book and she'd tossed it so casually out of the window. Thank goodness Adam had come in when he did or God only knew what would have happened next… but she was sure it would have involved plenty of rubbing and moaning… and embarrassment. Loads and loads of embarrassment that she'd never be able to live down… she wasn't even sure she'd be able to look at him in the face and not feel her cheeks burning. What Flack thought of her now, she didn't want to think, but it'd certainly not be good. She told herself that she'd have to prepare herself, for there was a good chance they'd pull her out of the mission as soon as he shared his evaluation with Capt and the Vice squad.
And yet she knew she couldn't hide in this bathroom forever. She had already stayed in there for far too long, and it didn't help her case one bit to be perceived as unreliable and unpunctual. Steeling her shoulders with ram rod determination, she made her way into the conference room that had been set up as ops central.
The sight that greeted her upon her arrival was one of compete chaos and uncertainty. Adam had not been joking when he'd said Vice had robbed blind half the adult shops in Manhattan and borrowed stuff from the other half. Piled on the corner table were mountains of movies, mostly gay and bondage judging by the titles. Leather, pleather and PVC clothing hung from a rack that had been wheeled in, and a quick overlook told her that nothing in there was meant for her to wear.
The "main attraction" however, was sitting at the center table. Carefully separated in small piles lay everything a mistress or a bondage practitioner could ever dream of: ball gags, blindfolds, clamps, collars, leashes, cuffs and restraints. Everything in different sizes and materials and even colors, although black seemed to be the color of choice. Angell watched silently as her coworkers took in the display. Sheldon picked everything up, analyzing it as if it were some sort of medical equipment, no doubt gauging usage and amount of pain/pleasure it would inflict on the bearer. Adam, it was clear he wanted no part of the whole scenario, and pretended to be engrossed in the movie titles and summaries, well away from all the bondage paraphernalia. Flack seemed to have taken a sudden interest in the leather clothing, touching garments here and there. It was Messer, however, who took to the whole experience like a small kid in a candy shop, trying everything on, with a non-stop commentary of how he'd use each item if he were calling the shots.
"Okay, gentlemen, I think we've goofed around enough…" Agnetti's voice was loud and clear and left no room for arguments. "If we brought this stuff in here is not for your personal enjoyment, but rather, for your education. Knowing this stuff might come in handy, and it might even save your life. Until Detective Angell makes contact with the ring pimp, we have no idea which one of you will be chosen as "trial test" and believe me, you'll be expected to deliver the goods in the most believable way possible… Angell will make sure things stop short of intercourse, but in the meantime you'll have to play the part and you'll have to know what goes where and how to call it by name. So start working on getting to know your new tools of the trade…"
Nine pairs of male eyes looked at the oldest Vice detective with a mixture of horror and shock. It was one thing to play pretend and another one, quite different, to be expected to carry it out to its last consequences. Right then and there they finally understood why female agents hated getting hooker details, as it finally dawned on them that it entailed a lot more than just wearing skimpy clothes and strutting on a street corner. The risk was real, the risk was there, and one of them was going to feel the burn pretty soon.
Angell, in the meantime, had gotten herself busy with a box Maya Rodriguez had labeled with her name. Inside she found another couple of leather corsets, black makeup, and a velvet and leather choker. At the very bottom, she found two items which immediately attracted her attention, and the moment she closed her hands on them, she could feel the transformation complete. Moments before, she had merely been Jennifer, playing dress up in nice leather clothes. But the moment she got hold of the 24 inch riding crop and the cat-o-nine tails she became Mistress Jezebel. Turning around, she cracked the small whip against the table, making everyone stand straight and pay attention.
"Just thought I'd check if my boys had not forgotten how to take orders" she commented slyly when Agnetti shot her a strange look.
She began walking about the room, finally in control of the boots, her almost 6 feet tall figure clad in leather silently demanding respect. One by one, each of the men that had been asked to play the part adopted a submissive attitude as she approached them. Even Messer trembled a bit when he felt the crop sliding down his leg as she walked by. Agnetti and the Capt exchanged satisfied glances. Angell was going to deliver the goods, there was now no doubt about it.
She'd left Flack to the very last on purpose, wanting to show him that, if she'd failed before, she wouldn't fail again. He stood, straight and tall, hands in front of him, eyes on the table before him. He knew what was expected of him, the slightest indicator that he couldn't play the part would have him kicked out of the op and that was the last thing he wanted just then and there. Angell wasn't the only Homicide cop who didn't trust Vice to keep their end of their deals… and damned if he was going to let her get into any unnecessary danger without adequate backup.
His good intentions, however, did not shield him from the cacophony of mixed feelings screaming inside of him: he wanted to stop that riding crop mid-air and show her who was boss, he wanted to drop to his knees and kiss his way up from her boots, he wanted to take her away from it all and shower her in flowers and wine, he wanted to bend her over and ride her like there was no tomorrow, he wanted to be the one who taught her how to make love and he wanted to fuck her brains out until she'd never even consider touching another man in her life. He simply wanted her.
His nervousness was betrayed by his hands, which kept on playing with a leather bracelet he had just picked up when Angell began passing inspection. She stood behind him and looked over his shoulder to see what he was doing. He could feel the heat emanating from her and had to will himself to remain still. Her warm breath on his ear as she came closer to speak to him did little to help his case.
"A studded cock and ball harness Don… who would have thought?"
And with that, she was gone.
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A/N: Thanks for all the reviews so far! I'd also like to thank all the kind readers who took their time to go and vote. The muse and I are forever grateful… three first places and 2 second places! We'd never made it without you!
