Author's note:
The first paragraph contains some femme-slash. If you don't like that, ignore the paragraph and go on with the second part. By the way: it is my first try at such a description. I hope it is not too bad.
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Dreams and Reality
Rome – American Embassy – 18th of July 2001 (Caitlin's POV)
I awoke from the grasp around my wrists and the clicking of handcuffs. Instinctively I tried to move as I opened my eyes but to no avail. My hands were securely fastened to the bed frame.
"Shhh, darling, don't panic," her dark full voice sent chills down my spine and her soft hand of my cheek caused goose bumbs on my skin. Her loose red mane gave her a wild look and her eyes were a bit dilated and dark with desire. For a second the tip of her tongue licked her lower lip as her glance glowered over my helpless body.
"I'm here to collect a debt, sweetheart. And you'll pay full and with interest." Her right hand started to unbutton my jacket and my eyes widened in panic as she lifted her left arm, her hand replaced by a metallic hook sharpened to a blade. Tamara lowered her hand and the blade tore thru my shirt, baring my stomach. With feather-light fingers she caressed my skin, tickling my sides and tracing the edge of my pants. A predatory smile on her lips she lifted the strap of my bra and cut thru, shoved the rest aside and her hungry eyes roamed over my breasts.
Before I could raise a protest she lowered her head and kissed me, plundered my lips with passion, forced her tongue into my mouth. Her right hand reached for my breasts, massaged them shortly before her finger tips pinched my nipple, twisted it and hardened it within seconds. I couldn't stop the moan I breathed into her mouth and sensed disappointment as her lips left mine. But it was instantly superseded by the sensation of her mouth moving over my body as she kissed my collarbone, my shoulders and slowly went down to my breast while her hand caressed my side. Slowly the tip of her tongue circled my nipple, licked softly on it before her teeth took a gentle bit on my nipple's tip.
A groan left my lips and shivers went down my body. "No, please," I whispered as her hand went to my pants, opening the belt and unbuttoning my jeans. I blushed deeply as I thought about the sight my hips would be: aroused, with swollen lips and dripping wetness with desire. But Tamara showed no mercy and pulled my pants and panties down full length to my ankles and freed my feet, throwing them away before her hand started to move over my naked legs. The touch of her hand on the inner side of my thigh deepened my lust, only the more because thru the handcuffs I was unable to see what she did.
Tamara switched position, went from my side to my legs, shoved them apart, gently but determined. Seconds later a first kiss was pressed on my foot, followed by one after the other as she traced my leg. Softly her lips touched the hollow of my knee before she went to my thigh, slowly nearing my core, forcing me to follow my desire as I lifted my hips to allow her better access. She responded with a giggle and teased with a husky voice: "A naughty girl we are?"
Not waiting for an answer she dipped between my thighs and a second later the sensation of her tongue on my lower lips, gently licking my wetness, caused my whole body to stiffen. She parted the lips with her fingers, started to sweep the whole length with her tongue, causing a series of further helpless moans from me. "Tamara, please free me." I nearly didn't recognize my own voice but she only stopped to raise her head, switching back to my side before she pressed her mouth on mine. I tasted my own flavor from her lips. My body stiffened as she pressed a finger against my core. For a moment Tamara stopped all movement, looked into my eyes; watched for the signs of desire. And then she pressed the tip of her finger into my body.
I closed my eyes, gave my body to the feeling of her fingers; sensed nothing else in that moment. So her voice came as a shock, the words hitting me like a bucket of ice-water. "I think she is ready now, ready for you."
I opened my eyes wide, followed her stare to the side of the room. There, until now silently sitting on a chair, waited William Baer, a broad smirk showing under his bald head. Slowly he rose and stepped forward while Tamara left my side. "Have fun," were her parting words.
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With a cry I awakened, my body trembling. I needed some minutes to realize that it all had been a dream, all at least aside from my very real arousal. Blushing deeply I discerned that I would have to use another pajama next night and the chambermaid would have to change the bedclothes with the linen wet from sweat and … other fluids.
My body feeling sore and exhausted, my mind likewise troubled and confused, I went to the bath to take a very long shower. What kind of dream had that been? Where the idea came from? A sex dream, about a woman at that and from one I had only seen one afternoon on top that. I couldn't deny that I had been aroused and it ashamed me more than a bit. The cold water rushed down my body, my head leaning against the wall as I tried hard to gather my nerves again.
It was so unfair, unfair to think this about her. Certainly, in the beginning Tamara had been flirting with me. But she had stopped as she saw my uneasiness. Knowing me to be catholic she would have known my inner turmoil about any female advances. Her shy farewell kiss had surely not been meant to cause this kind of dreams. And how could I fancy her to deceive me in this way, to betray me, to lose her hand to the Bocca della Verita, to cooperate with my superior? This all was so very wrong.
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An hour later I was presentable again. But my mind was not. Walking down to the breakfast room I reflected the last days. Ten days had passed since I met Tamara, ten days I hadn't seen any sign of her. Most of them had been very painstaking. The single free afternoon three days ago my feet involuntary draw me to the bridge, but she hadn't been there, causing likewise disappointment and relief in me. Coming back to the embassy I pondered about looking into our files, to search for 'Tamara Moore', but I hesitated. 'No surnames, no hometown', she had said, hadn't exchanged telephone number or mail addresses. Obviously she wanted this encounter to be something onetime. Perhaps she already left Rome again as we never spoke about how long she would stay here.
A bit I hoped she would have left some days ago because Rome hadn't been nice. With the official G8-meeting nearing – the heads of state would meet in Genua in four days and we would go there the day after tomorrow – the demonstrations had increased and there even had been some rotten egg attacks. It wasn't really nice from me but I felt some gladness that the Italians obviously liked to target my tall, broad-shouldered colleagues much more than to harass me. Perhaps it had only been a rest of chivalric attitude. At least quite a number of the male agents had been hit but my outfit stayed unblemished.
Yesterday the Secretary of State Colin Powell had left for Washington and the mood relaxed at least for a while, with many demonstrators going for Genua. Today we would prepare our leave, tomorrow I would have a day on my own and then …
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Loud voices interrupted my reasoning. The male I recognized as belonging to Matthew Tembril, the 'security adviser' of the embassy. It was nothing else than a polite euphemism for CIA but normally we avoided this term. But it was the other voice, the female one, which caused chills along my spine.
"It makes no difference to me what you think, Mr. Tembril," her pleasant voice was a bit shrill in the moment. "I'll stay in Rome for another week as planned and only then I'll leave."
The look on his face reminded me of an irritated elementary teacher and he seemed to be relieved for the distraction my presence caused. As he stopped to speak his conversation partner realized that there was something amiss and turned around. Beautiful in her agitation, sensual in her ire, the pictures of my dream came back into my mind and I felt my cheeks blushing. Tamara shook her head, hinting me not to take part of this discussion but it was already too late.
"Ah, Agent Todd, may I be of any help?" Looking from me to Tamara and back again he continued with a hint of curiosity in his voice: "Do you know Dr. Moore?"
I nodded silently, staring intensely at her and saving some moments to gather my nerves and my voice again. "I met her … she is a friend of mine. Are there any problems, Mr. Tembril?" I tried hard to sound determined and steady.
"Nothing too grave, I assure you. Dr. Moore had a small … interaction with the Italian police. They are willing to drop the charges for assault against a police officer and obstructing an officer in the performance of his duties, but only if she leaves Rome. I think this to be the best solution but Dr. Moore is quite intractable." He showed a small smile while Tamara uttered a deep growl.
"As I already stated: I've one week left of my holidays and I don't intend to quit previously. And with the demonstrators leaving Rome for Genua the situation shouldn't repeat itself by the way."
My mind raced. So Tamara somehow had participated in the demonstrations, perhaps she even had been one of the egg-throwers. This I had never expected from her. But on the other side I knew how she loved to be here and I felt pity. "Mr. Tembril, I'm sure that Dr. Moore" – Doctor she was, what kind of I pondered shortly – "won't make any fuss in the next days. Certainly someone as you is able to delay her departure for some days, especially if Dr. Moore promises not to go to Genua but stay in Rome."
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"Thank you, Caitlin. " We were seating in the breakfast room, sipping a cup of coffee. "You shouldn't participate in this. I didn't want to start any problems for you."
I padded her hand, the image of that hand caressing my breast causing goose bumbs on my skin. "It was nothing." Trying to lighten the mood and distract from my reaction I continued: "I only never expected you to be kind of wild hippie anti-state demonstrator."
Tamara instantly pulled back her hand, anger showing in her face and hurt in her voice. "I'm nothing of that. This incident will certainly follow my acts for years to come. At least I would have expected from you to ask before you jump to conclusions."
As she rose I grabbed her forearm to stop her, causing a wince of pain. Only now I saw the edges of black and blue marks there. And the movement for a moment unveiled a spot under her hair locks where a bruise had been stitched. "I'm sorry, Tamara, please stay." For some seconds I expected her to leave nonetheless but with a sigh she took seat again.
With a low voice she started to tell. "It had been two days ago. More than once I had circumvented a demonstration, unwilling to be part of them. But then I came to a place where the bulk of demonstrators already left. They had been expelled by a large number of policemen. With water cannons, riot sticks and rubber bullets they had advanced. Obviously after the little speech Mr. Powell gave a few days ago about the incompetence of the roman police they wanted to show force."
Shortly she stayed silent and I realized that pictures of those events now crossed her mind. "Dozens of wounded were on the ground, the police dragging them into prisoner transporters. For a while they left me alone, certainly more because I obviously didn't belong to the demonstrators. But then I saw some heavily wounded and … I wanted to help. There was some young guy … a horse of the mounted police obviously had stepped on him when he already was on the ground. A hit to the head caused his unconsciousness and a wound on his chest from the horse-kick seemed very serious to me. I started to care for him, didn't allow them to carry him away without medical assistance. They didn't agree, only wanted to drag them away and to create space for some car convoy that already waited. The time of some politicians and their reputation was more important to them than the health of these young Romans."
I had heard of these problems, of clashes between police and demonstrators. But to listen to Tamara … that was quite troubling. "I didn't allow it. I … pushed them away … knocked one of them out." For a moment she blushed quite nice; then she sighed. "But to no avail. In the end I landed in the transporter together with the demonstrators." A weak smile showed on her face. ""At least this way I was able to continue to treat their wounds."
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A bit sad, a bit hopeful I watched Tamara leave the embassy. We had agreed to spend the next day together. I really hoped to let her forget these events for a few hours. And I certainly enjoyed the prospect to see her again. I only hoped that my dream wouldn't recur tonight.