Chapter 6

"Bloody stupid piece of-"

"Elsie Hughes!" Elsie whipped her head up as Beryl walked through the door of her office. She banged the side of the small printer. When it made a terrible crunching sound, she gave up on ever making it do her bidding and threw herself down in her desk chair.

"Sorry. It's just this damn thing- never wants to work! A bloody waste of money."

"I won't say I told you so…"

"Oh bugger off." Elsie said with a smile. "What brings you here?"

Beryl smiled sweetly and sat down on the floral settee. "Oh nothing in particular. Can't a good, trusted, dear friend just stop in for-"

"Oh! For Heaven's sake, you know that being coy was never one of your strengths." Elsie stood and walked around the desk, shutting the office door as she did so.

"Whatever do you mean?" Beryl questioned innocently.

"That Cheshire grin on your face gives you away don't you know?" Beryl grinned even bigger.

"Tell me everything!" Elsie was surprised at how long Beryl had held out before asking her about the day she'd shown up to the university with Charles. It was Friday, and if Elsie was correct in her counting, it had been since Wednesday.

"Beryl! I'm impressed. You've held out two entire days."

"You're rather cheeky today. Is there a reason behind that?"

Elsie rolled her eyes. "No. There is absolutely no reason for my cheek, other than the fact that you are rather a pain in the rear end. Nothing happened. We had breakfast, we chatted. And then we came to work. Like friends. Just friends."

Beryl pursed her lips. "Well. If you don't want to share with me, I'll just have to go ask Charles!" Elsie whipped her gaze to Beryl's and glared. "Don't you dare, woman. Knowing Charles, he'll make up some ridiculous story."

"It's Charles is it now? Well…" Elsie rolled her eyes.

"Don't deny me the only scandalous enjoyment I've got in my life."

"It's not scandalous! For the last bloo-"

Beryl smiled wickedly and stood, heading for the door. "Look, I've got to go now, to get ready for the in-service and all, but are we still meeting tonight? 8 o'clock?"

"Oh! I completely forgot! But yes, I'll be there." Beryl left the door open behind her, and just as Elsie was gathering up her things to leave for the in-service, Charles appeared at her door.

"Hello." He said, quietly in his deep voice. Elsie shivered internally.

"Hello," she replied, more softly than she had intended. She cleared her throat. "Are you headed to the in-service?"

"Actually, that's why I'm here. Dean Crawley excused me as I have a prior engagement, but if there's anything of real importance would you mind taking notes for me?" Elsie just stared at him for a moment.

"Uh- um- oh yes. Of course. I don't mind at all." She smiled at him, and thinking that was the end of their conversation, she returned to packing her bag.

Charles silently let himself into the office and shut the door behind him. Elsie looked up when she heard the door click, and Charles was across the room before she could protest.

"Elsie, I've missed you. Two days is too long." And with that he gently pressed his warm lips to hers, sliding his large hands up and into her hair, rubbing his thumbs along her temples and softly caressing her ear lobes. She found herself sighing into his kiss, relaxing into his gentle touches and reverent attentions. She set her hands tentatively on his hips, and before long she was pulling his body closer to hers as he deepened the kiss. He slid his right hand down her neck, splaying his fingers out across the soft skin between her neck and collarbone. Soon, his lips followed, and Elsie could do nothing but roll her head sideways to allow him access. The warmth of his mouth on her skin drove a small moan from her lips, and startled her back to reality.

"Charles!" Charles laughed, his lips still pressed to her skin. When Elsie refused to relax, He lifted his head and pressed one last, sweet kiss to her lips.

"Can I see you this weekend?"

"Charles I-"

"Elsie, look at it this way. You'll never know if you really don't like me until you get to know me. So just spend some time with me. If we have nothing in common, then I promise I'll let it be. But just give me a chance."

Elsie bit her bottom lip, as she was wont to do when uncertain. She looked up, her eyes meeting his, and she knew she would regret it if she didn't at least give him a chance.

"Okay. But I want to do something. Not just go out for endless dinners like so many dates seem to turn out."

Charles smirked, and suddenly Elsie felt a twinge of regret at suggesting other activities.

"Oh, don't worry, I have a very active imagination. I'll see you Sunday, 11am?"

"See you then." She smiled and shook her head as Charles let himself out of her office, whistling with a huge smile spreading across his face.

ECECECECECECECECECECE

"Charlie! My man! Good to see you." The Butler cringed inwardly at the gregarious display.

"Grigg." Charles regarded the portly, ruddy-faced man in front of him. He had known Charles Grigg a long time, had been his partner when he first started working as an agent. At one time, he and Grigg had been close, the "Charming Charlies" they had been dubbed. But that had all changed when Grigg sold Charles out to one of their targets to save his own skin. Charles had never forgiven the betrayal, and the bullet hole in his right side served as a reminder if he should ever start forgetting what Grigg was capable of.

"What do you want?" Charles spat at Grigg through the open window of his truck.

Grigg laughed. "What a way to greet an old friend."

"I mean it, Grigg. Tell me what you want or get the hell out of my way."

"Charlie, Charlie. You didn't think you were the only one after Joe Burns, did you?"

Charles closed his eyes to contain his anger. When he spoke, he was dead calm.

"What are you doing here?"

"I'm here for the same reason you are, old friend! We both want Burns, except the people that hired me are also wanted by the people that hired you. May the best man win!" Grigg mock saluted to Charles as he walked backwards, heading for the warehouse before them.

Charles slammed his fist into the steering wheel. Of all the complications he had planned for, Grigg had never even crossed his mind. He composed himself and got out of the truck, tucking his .45 into his ankle holster.

Charles entered the cavernous steel warehouse with heightened apprehension. Grigg was a loose cannon, and Charles was not looking forward to navigating the next few hours.

"Ah, Charles. You've met Mr. Grigg then?" Joe Burns walked over to Charles, Grigg in tow, smiling smugly.

"Yes, he introduced himself in the lot."

"Well, good. Now we can get to work."

Charles had been an agent since he was 18. He was recruited very young, and most of his life had been exciting, dangerous, and thrilling- everything a young man could want. But as he followed Grigg and Burns to the table holding the type of weaponry that took thousands of lives each year, for the first time he could remember the deep sadness of the business overtook him. The waste of life, the endless death; he suddenly longed for the peace he felt with Elsie. So startled he was by his own thoughts, he shook his head to remove them. Grigg gave him a strange look, but Charles just ignored the man and looked up at Burns.

Burns stopped behind the table and looked up at the dozen or so men in the room.

"This, men, is the finest in modern weaponry that the Russians have to offer. Mr. Carson here is our newest broker. He will be negotiating with the Iranians. Mr. Grigg will be accompanying him to ensure that my merchandise stays intact, won't you Mr. Grigg?"

"Right you are sir." Charles looked at Grigg, realizing that the game he was playing just became vastly more dangerous than he could have imagined.

Burns began speaking again. "Tonight, Mr.'s Grigg and Carson will be meeting with the representatives from the Iranian contingency to provide a demonstration for their benefit. If all goes well- and it will- the exchange will take place a month from now. The rest of you- I do not want any fuck ups. Men that cannot keep their mouths shut and ears closed will suffer."

Two burly men dragged another man into the center of the room. He had been beaten and his arms were bound. They released him and he flew forward, he face landing in the dirt on the floor. He struggled for a moment, trying desperately to right himself.

"Denison here got pissed in a pub and told a pretty little whore all about his big boy job, running guns for his bossman." Joe Burns stopped three feet from the man, looking down at him. Denison's head was turned at an odd angle as he attempted to look up at Burns. "And we can't have that, can we?" Burns whispered into the silent space. He pulled out a 9mm and shot Denison point-blank in the face.

ECECECECECECECECECECE

Elsie was completely ready to be finished with the damn in-service. She liked and respected Dr. Molesely, but sometimes the man rattled on and on until she could barely remember where she was for the boredom. It was already 7:30 and it seemed as though he would never finish. Beryl leaned over to whisper to Elsie.

"He's a twitchy fellow, in't he?"

Elsie snorted into her tea and consequently received quite a few strange looks from her colleagues. Finally, Molesely wrapped up his presentation and the room began to clap immediately, as if afraid he might return to the podium and resume his interminable speech. Everyone stood and began filing out.

Elsie glanced over at Molesely and noticed that Phyllis Baxter was making doe eyes at him. Beryl caught Elsie's eye. "Oh, you mark my word, before the end of term those two will be an item! Why just look at the way he's stuttering, poor fool." Elsie shook her head and exited the room.

"Beryl, I've got to run home quick- I need to let Willa out and change. I'll meet you at Ruby's by 8?"

Beryl waved as she exited the opposite way. "See you then!"

Willa was waiting expectantly at the door for Elsie when she finally made it home, so she gave the dog a good ear scratching and let her out for a run in the yard, silently thanking William for helping her train the dog so well. She never worried about her running off, and she was easily the most loyal companion Elsie could have asked for.

As she changed, Elsie ruminated on the few moments she'd spent with Charles earlier in the day. He treated her as if she was already a part of his life, a love he'd already dedicated himself to. The thought of that much commitment gave her the chills, and Elsie brushed away the troubling thoughts as she let Willa in the house. Willa was taking quite a long time to get to the door, and Elsie began to worry. She flipped on the porch light and saw the large dog limping slowly into the light.

"Willa girl, what happened?" Elsie rushed out to the dog, who sat as Elsie approached her. She was holding her right front paw up, and when Elsie reached her she saw that it was dripping blood.

"Poor girl, let's get you inside." Elsie half lifted Willa, helping her to walk as best she could. The dog was much too big for her to lift alone, weighing 75 pounds. She was the largest pup in her litter, and the vet remarked often at how large the dog was for being a female. Yet another reason Elsie loved her so much.

Once inside, Elsie could see exactly what had happened. Willa had somehow sliced her foot open; she had one large gash that ran across the central pad of her foot, so deep that it was steadily dripping blood and would clearly need stitches, and another higher up her leg that would also need to be stitched.

"Down girl. Stay." She issued the commands to Willa to ensure the dog wouldn't get blood everywhere or injure herself further and left her to nurse her paw while she dialed the vet. The on-call veterinarian could see Willa in an hour. Elsie called Beryl up to let her know she wouldn't make it to Ruby's.

ECECECECECECECECECECE

Three hours later, Willa was curled up in her large dog bed by the window in Elsie's bedroom sporting fresh bandages and stiches, and Elsie was treating her bloodstained clothes in her bathroom sink. There was a faint knock at the door and Elsie jumped when she heard Willa issue a deep but sleepy bark from the bedroom. The poor dog was still dozy from the pain medication, so Elsie dropped her shirt on the sink and went to peek out the window in her bedroom to see who was at her door.

"Charles?" Elsie hurried to the door. She opened it to find Charles standing there with a black eye, as well as a swollen hand and bandaged arm.

"What in the world happened to you?!" She exclaimed. Charles smiled and shrugged.

"May I come in?" Elsie stood aside and let him in the house. She sat him down at the kitchen island and grabbed a bag of frozen peas for his hand.

"Thank you. Sorry to drop by, unannounced and looking like a street fighter."

"Why do you look like a street fighter is what I want to know?" Elsie crossed her arms and leaned against the counter.

Charles laughed. "I got in a fight." He offered. Elsie scoffed.

"Please! I can see that for myself. But if you're not going to tell me that's fine. You can march your secrets and your black eye right back out that door."

Charles looked at Elsie for a moment, her hand on her hip, staring at him seriously. He was surprised to see the blunt fear in her eyes, and he stood to take her hands gently in his. He knew she would think him insane for getting in a fight, but he couldn't tell her the truth- at least not the entire truth. So, he opted for the part he felt was safe.

"Elsie, I don't want you to be afraid of me."

"I'm not- I just…"

Charles stroked her knuckles with his thumbs. "These silly cuts and bruises are the result of a ridiculous altercation with a man at a bar. He slapped his girlfriend in the parking lot, so I decked him. He came back with more vigor than I was expecting. I know it's silly and quite childish but—"

Elsie slid her hands into his hair at that moment and gently pressed her lips to his, kissing him soundly but carefully. When she pulled away, Charles was smiling.

"Well, I certainly wasn't expecting that, Dr. Hughes." Elsie stepped away just then, slowly removing her hands from his and turning towards the sink.

"Tea?" She asked. Elsie busied herself getting the kettle on the stove and setting out two mugs.

"Thank you Elsie. I didn't mean to trouble you with this, but I just needed to see you. I didn't want to wait for Sunday."

Elsie didn't turn back to him, she just stared at the kettle of water. So softly that Charles almost didn't hear it, Elsie whispered, "I'm not afraid of you." Charles wasn't certain he had heard her correctly, but before he could ask, Elsie spoke to him.

"Your nose is bleeding again. My bathroom is right through there if you need some tissues. Although I assume you already know where it is." Elsie smiled a bit at her comment, knowing full well that Charles was familiar with the layout of her home after their encounter at Ruby's. Charles lifted his hand to his face and felt the blood drip. He hurried into the bathroom to get something to staunch the blood flow, all the while cursing his stupidity. He wasn't a young man anymore, and fights like the one he'd been in tonight were getting harder and harder to heal from. But despite the pain he was in, he would have slugged the man a thousand times over, Iranian or not. No man treated a woman that way in front of Charles.

Charles entered the bathroom and flipped on the light. The first thing he noticed was the bloody shirt sitting on Elsie's sink. There was blood all down the front of the shirt and he could clearly tell she had already tried to remove some of it. Completely forgetting his nose, he grabbed the shirt and burst back out into the kitchen.

"Elsie! Did someone hurt you? Are you all right? What is all of this blood from?"

Startled, Elsie turned with the kettle in her hand to see Charles holding up her bloody button down shirt. The look of pure anger on his face prompted her to reply immediately.

"That's from Willa. She sliced her foot open earlier. I'm perfectly fine." Hearing Elsie's slightly stunned response, Charles realized then how he must look, trembling with anger at whomever had hurt Elsie. He lowered the hand holding the shirt and dropped it on the floor. He went to her then and wrapped her in a warm hug. She softened in his arms and whispered, "I thought you were going to rip someone apart."

Charles gave a deep belly laugh at her statement, stepping back from her. "I would have. I thought someone had attacked you, all of that blood. Is Willa ok?"

Elsie poured tea for them and handed Charles a mug. "She's knocked out from the medication they gave her, but she's all stitched up. She'll be just fine in a week or two. Here." Elsie grabbed a clean dishtowel from a drawer near the sink and walked to Charles, gently wiping a little bit of blood from above his lip. "I think it stopped bleeding on it's own."

Charles just looked at her, his eyes devouring her beautiful face. She had large, deep blue eyes and the most beautiful lips. Her cheeks were high and full, reddening a little at his relentless gaze. There was something about her features; it was as though they longed to be joyful. When she smiled it was always with her whole heart it seemed. However, he sensed that it was sometimes difficult for her to express her natural happiness. She had something weighing on her that held her down, something that stopped her joyfulness from spreading across her lovely face.

"If you keep looking at me like that I'm going to have to check the mirror to see if my hair's tidy!" She said lightly, stepping back to the other side of the island.

"Get away with you," he replied. "You're lovely, always." Elsie put her hand on her face, cupping her cheek in an attempt to hide her flush of pleasure at his words. Charles felt his groin tighten as he gazed at her.

He knew it was time to leave, to go home before he lost all common sense and tried to ravage her right there on the kitchen island. He still wasn't sure what had brought him to her door in the first place, but he knew he needed to leave now before he made an ass of himself.

He finished his tea quickly, silently watching her as she sipped her tea and tidied up the kitchen. He stood a few moments later, but hesitated to approach her.

"Are we still on for Sunday? I know I imposed on you tonight but I-"

"Charles. Pick me up at 11. What should I wear?" She smiled sweetly at him. Before he knew it, he had crossed the small kitchen and drawn her into his arms. He ran his thumb over her bottom lip and then kissed her, telling her everything he wanted to do with her with only the slide of his lips against hers. She moaned into his mouth, grabbing his shirt and pulling him closer, pressing her body against his, and pushing him backwards into the island. She surprised him even further by sliding her hands down and grabbing his bottom, digging her nails into his backside and yanking his groin into hers. His sanity almost completely gone, he somehow managed to grasp a mere thread of common sense as he placed his hands on her shoulders and gently pushed her away a bit.

Her lust clouded eyes looked up at him in confusion, and he had to consciously work to control his breathing.

"Elsie- Elsie," Charles took a deep breath. "I don't want to push you this fast. If we do this now you'll regret it. And I don't want to be a regret, I want to be here for much longer than that." Elsie stepped back, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth.

"Thank you." She said, quietly with a slight quaver to her voice. A single tear slid down her cheek just then, and Charles reached out to brush it away.

"Did I do something wrong? I never meant to offend you…"

Elsie laughed a little at his comment. "I assure you, the very last thing that I am in this moment is offended." She smiled at him then, one of her full-to-bursting, joyful smiles that he longed for. "You're a good man, Charles Carson. You keep proving it to me in ways you don't even know. Thank you."

Charles bent and brushed a delicate kiss to her lips. She smiled at him again. "Sunday then." She said. He smiled back at her.

"Sunday. And to answer your question, wear something comfortable, something you can get dirty." Elsie raised her eyebrows, shaking her head at him as he smirked and let himself out the front door.