This chapter literally picks up where the last one left off.... it is no way explicit, merely and slightly suggestive.
Chapter 13
This was completely unexpected. But very welcome and absolutely impossible to resist as she began her own exploring. Feelings that he had for too long kept deeply buried welled up inside of him, threatening to overwhelm him.
That initial reaction didn't last long though. He could feel when the smile subsided from her lips, demanding more from him than amusement. And for a moment, his only true fear in the world crept up beside him, mocking him that the next moment would be the moment when this would all fall apart and evaporate.
He paused. He waited. Anticipating the worst, slowly realizing it wasn't going to happen. He greedily responded to her silent plea for more.
Then quite extraordinarily, as if to reassure him even more, her lips curved into a new smile, this one speaking of tentative delight. And those wonderful, elegant fingers of hers never made even the slightest attempt to lift away from his shoulders. Instead, they gripped more tightly, steadying herself against his powerful frame. The voices in his head were apparently wrong. Rather than trying to summon sufficient strength to make her escape, she was actually borrowing some of his strength, using it to hold them both in place.
"Hope?" he murmured, his voice as thick as oil.
Taking another breath, she leaned closer, finding her strength, finding his strength. "What's happening now, is what I want to happen. This is what I want. It has nothing to do with the past or anything I just told you, it's ... it's not a reaction to anything other than you." She reached up and gently traced his jawline with her fingertips. "This is just you ... and me."
He nodded, barely fathoming the far-reaching impact of his hands' subtle movements. How many times in the last week had he ached to hold her, comfort her, even kiss her?
Her own eyes closed once again, the grin reappearing on her face. She inhaled, holding it for a moment, then releasing it in a puff. And then she hummed. God almighty, she hummed. As if something beyond this world was happening behind those beautiful eyelids.
At least that stopped him. He couldn't ... wouldn't argue against such an obvious truth anymore. He took a reflexive breath, finally giving conditional permission to his fingers.
"Hope," he whispered, his body tilting against hers. Longingly, he pulled her into the curve defined by the front of his body. His hands craved to be on her again - he couldn't deny that, yet another example of what he could no longer deny himself – or to himself.
At her midriff, she caught hold of his first wandering hand, having felt it alight there to draw her close, then weaken slightly to transform the touch into a caress. And while it was indeed what she wanted, she wanted more. Raising the hand to her lips, she kissed its palm, before drawing his thumb between her lips, before returning to his palm.
"There has to be a better place to do this, than this stone fence." Once again, she took hold of that wandering hand, this time entwining her fingers within his to lead him back into the house.
Hours later, he awoke slowly, a reaction to the deep chill permeating the room, more than a desire to be awake. Cautiously and carefully, he sat up, desperate to avoid disturbing her, wanting merely to ensure she lay under cover of the blanket. Gathering both sheet and blanket for himself, he shifted onto his side, while gathering her more securely into his embrace.
She nodded and murmured unintelligibly into his neck, then slid her hand once more along his upper arm, slowly tracing the raised welt of an old scar.
He turned towards her, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead. "What? I couldn't hear that?"
Tilting her head back to be able to look at him, she repeated, "How did you get this scar?" She traced the outline of his physical scar, just as he had done with hers earlier.
"It happened during one of my first arrests I was involved with after made detective. I was working in Narcotics. My partner and I were on a stakeout, waiting for a buy to go down. When it did, we were all over them. I had one of the guys down on the ground, but this one short wiry guy got away from my partner and took off. I gave chase, but this guy was ducking through alleys, jumping chain link fences - he was greased lightning. He jumped this one last fence, made it over clean; I went over it, a loose piece of wire caught my shirt sleeve and ripped through my arm. Twenty-four stitches and that's the worst I've been hurt in the line of duty."
"Oh, my poor, poor Bobby." Hope said as she snuggled back against him. "The worst you've been hurt in the line of duty? What about the worst you've been hurt, period?"
"Aww… no. I think that's a story from another time. And someone else's telling. To get that one, you're going to have to have Lewis tell you, just keep in mind anything he tells you is going to tend to make him the hero – which, he wasn't." He could feel her grin.
"Fine, I'll just do that some day."
His fingers began a gentle rub of her back. She flinched as he came into contact with one of the jagged spherical scars on her back. Earlier he had discovered all six wounds, and with determined yet gentle intent he proceeded to kiss away any pain, any anxiety about their presence.
"I'm sorry... I didn't mean to hurt..." He began.
"It doesn't hurt, it just feels ... different. No one has ever…" Shaking her head she raised herself up to kiss his lips ... Then his neck. Beneath her lips, she could feel the beat of his pulse. At first, the beats were slow and steady, gradually speeding up, keeping time with the rhythm of his breathing. Continuing to take inventory, she found his shoulder, his arm, his scar, his palm and lastly each fingertip.
He released a thread-y breath as the endearments came. He would never deny his pleasure at having her here in his arms. Even if he regretted the catalyst and the journey required getting her to here - there was no point in denying how good she felt tucked in against him. When her arm insinuated itself beneath his waist, he matched it intuitively, one hand slipping below the blanket to glide teasingly along the dip of her side. His hand slid down her midriff, pausing to wait for that final invitation. It came as a subtle shift of her hips, and a parting of her knees around his. In moments, his fingers were dipping lower ...
Waking for good this time, Bobby realized he was alone in the bed. Turning onto his side, he watched the sheer curtain flutter in the early morning breeze from the half- open window. No wonder it had been so cold in here during the night. He watched the play of shadow and light as the lacy fabric swirled and danced across the floor, momentarily stippling its pattern on its hardwood surface.
He stretched and inhaled deeply, the aroma of fresh coffee finding its way to him. Discovering his clothes lying in a crumpled mess on the floor he quickly pulled them on and padded barefoot out in the other room. Now the odors of other food assailed him. Did he smell pancakes?
Hope was standing at the stove, back turned to him as he entered the kitchen. Sidling up to her, he slipped his arms around her waist, planting a kiss to the back of her head. "Trying to show me up, in the cooking department, huh?"
Leaning back onto him, she shook her head against his chest and laughed. "No, of course not, just trying to do my share." Turning around within his embrace she proceeded to wrap her arms around his neck, gently pulling him down to her, this time softly repeating her words, "Just trying to do my share."
You are, Hope. You are...
It was only the acrid smell of burning eggs that broke their kiss. "Oh, the eggs!" She cried. Grabbing the pan from the burner, Bobby ran water on the eggs and dropped the pan into the sink. Looking around him, she lamented, "They're ruined! And it's your fault, you distracted me."
"My fault!? You were the one who started it. Not me." Bobby grinned as he poured coffee for the both of them. Leaning on opposite counters, they sipped their coffee.
"No... you did... when you came out... nevermind ..." she huffed. Glancing around at the already cooked stack of food, "Well, there are still pancakes, bread for toast and I found a can of frozen orange juice in the freezer, so we won't starve."
As they filled their plates with pancakes and syrup, he outlined a plan for the day. "...then we can eat, clean up a little, shower and then head back to the city."
She reached out and put her hand on his. "I don't want to go back now. I think I kind of like it up here. Wouldn't it be nicer to just hang out up here, and never go back to the city? Get Lewis and Gina to sell me this place." Hope pleaded before adding a caveat, "I doubt I'd like it near as much if you weren't here though."
He reached out for her now, to caress her cheek. "There are still things we need to clear up. And the sooner we do that, the better. I have to call Eames and find out what's going on. When I talked to her yesterday, there were people from the State Department and the British Embassy in my Captain's office." Bobby sighed as he contemplated the receptions he was going to get when he return to One Police Plaza, from his Captain and from the Chief of Detectives and from his partner. "I'm kind of hoping I still have a job after this. I've pushed the department, the Chief, my Captain and my partner about as far as anyone could."
"Well... fine, if you really want to be responsible and adult about it." Hope sighed and rolled her eyes as reached over to grab his empty plate and drop it in the sink. "Since we're so being responsible and adult about everything, how about this? Since I cooked, you wash."
"Deal. Fair's fair." He nodded agreeably. "I'm just going to call Eames first."
"While you do that, I'm going to jump in the shower." Hope traced a line across his shoulders as she ducked past him.
It was early, so he called her on her cell, knowing she'd still be a home. "Morning Eames, it's me. We're coming back. We'll be leaving soon so we should be back in a couple of hours."
"No. You're not coming back. You need to stay there. Someone is on there way up there to see you, to see Hope."
Warily, he asked, "Who?"
"Sir Nigel...."
"Whitledge." He finished.
"How did you..."
"I was able to get the whole story last night. It's ... tragic, but not bad news. I think she's safe." Taking a deep breath, he asked the questions that were a larger concern for him this morning, "How are things there? Heard anything from the Chief?"
"After we got off the phone yesterday, the Captain called me into his office ...."
"Damn! Alex.... I'm...." Bobby began.
" ... to explain why you never came back after lunch yesterday. You may not believe it, but there's no problem here. The State Department and a couple of British Embassy attache's admitted they were treating the episode as a valid threat against Hope. They claimed that she contacted the Embassy after noticing two men following her. And that Hope had pleaded with them to let you hide her out someplace safe, safe until Sir Nigel could fly over from England, because he is the only one she trusts. Nothing about the search or Ira and Josh's role in it, or even my mine."
"Okay...." He was reeling. This wasn't adding up. "Why would the State Department and British Embassy personnel bother with coming down to 1PP? Why would either acknowledge anything to the local PD?"
"I don't know, but later last night, Sir Nigel actually showed up with the same two embassy types again, asking if I knew where you might have taken her. He told the Captain that he was responsible for the tracking program attached to her records. When the breach was discovered they went into active surveillance mode, but didn't alert her. They felt that was what spooked her and sent her running."
Bobby was staring out the kitchen window, staring at the spot where Hope had kissed him last night. "Eames, something's not right about this. They admit to a breach of their security. And then proceed to come up with a story that ties everything up into a nice and neat little package - that we know is a lie. What did Ross say?"
"Not much. I don't think he bought their story, but Sir Nigel Whitledge's appearance and reassurance, along with the State Department bringing the Commissioner and the Chief of D's up to speed on it..."
"The Commissioner and the Chief..." He really wasn't going to have a job after this. Another thought came to him, "Who told Sir Nigel where to find Hope and I? Did you tell them?"
"No, he just... knew. I guess, "Big Brother" doesn't just watch the bad guys, anymore." She'd had an uneasy feeling about this all night, and now after speaking with Bobby, she knew where she needed to be. "I've been thinking that since I don't have a partner today, it might be a good idea to take a personal day. Plus, it looks like it's going to be a nice day for a drive up to the Catskills."
"Thanks, Eames." Distracted now - several theories were running through his head - he didn't realize he had hung up before saying, "good-bye".
Big Brother may watch everyone. But no one watches Bobby's back better than I do. Alex Eames stared at the phone before jumping out of bed and rushing to the shower.
Only a couple more chapters to go, I think....
