Author's Note: Two chapters in a week! Woohoo! I think the key is to not edit well and post subpar quality, but eh, at least it's up. Thanks for the reviews!
"Have you ever cooked before?" Mike asks skeptically as he leans against the kitchen counter watching Paige attempt to make dinner for the house.
"We're the only ones not working. We have to do something productive. Besides don't you remember the epic double-decker-peanut-butter-and-jelly-sandwiches I made your second week here?"
"Yes, I know you smear things well, but have you actually cooked? As in used heat and mixed things together to make food." Mike grins, watching her attempt to chop up tomatoes.
"Ow!" Paige says, almost on cue, bringing a sliced thumb tip up to her mouth.
"Are you ok?" Mike rushes forward.
"Yeah. It's just harder to chop with this thing on my hand." Paige holds up her broken fingers which are taped together with gauze up in in demonstration of her difficulties. Her sling is on the countertop. She hates wearing that thing.
"Here let me help." Mike comes up behind her and wraps his arms around hers, his fingers guiding her hands holding the knife and the tomatoes.
"I can do it myself I just need to go slow…" Paige says, suddenly breathless from his near proximity.
"Mmmhmm…" He murmurs in her ear, his lips brushing against it in what is almost a kiss. "Humor me. I don't want to take any chances we'll end up in that hospital again."
Mike wraps his fingers around hers, his body pressed tightly up against hers, slowly guiding her slices through the vegetables. Paige is fairly certain the multiple pairs of hands performing the same task makes it more likely that one of them will cut themselves, but she doesn't want him to stop.
She normally would be annoyed at Mike's insistence to help, but it's hard to be upset when he's standing so close. She shouldn't still be so affected by his presence. These last few weeks, the two of them have constantly been touching. He sleeps in her bed and ever since the hospital he's been much more physical with her.
Not sexually physical of course. He has been carefully avoiding anything like that, but he's consistently cuddling her, kissing her forehead, brushing her hair. It would be sweet if she wasn't so frustrated by his lack of romantic intent. He treated her like a very breakable small child, when most of the time she just wanted him to throw her down and rip her clothes off.
She worried he was feeling so open and free to touch her these days because he no longer felt any sort of sexual attraction to her. Like the rape had made her somehow asexual in his eyes.
Before the abduction, her and Mike didn't touch much, well at least not like they did now. They would hit each other playfully or poke at each other, but they didn't hug or cuddle. Because whenever they did touch, there was always a hint of danger and excitement. Every accidental brush of skin tingled long after contact was broken. It was like if they touched each other too long they would catch on fire with passion and be unable to resist each other any longer.
Now he literally spent every night in her bed holding her, and had not tried to make a move once. Everything felt safe, and Paige knew that change had to be because he no longer saw any potential for sex between the two of them. He would literally scoff at the idea as if it were the most ridiculous thing in the world if anyone brought it up.
Like now for example, as she's standing pinned between him and the kitchen counter, his hips pressed to her back and his arms completely caging her in. Now when his breath is so close to her ear she can feel the vibrations run down her spine. These are the moments that feel like they should lead to more. Like a passionate kiss that ends with him bending her over this countertop and fucking her senseless. Every time he touches her it feels like foreplay, the beginning of something amazing, except by now experience has taught her it won't lead anywhere.
As he guides her movements, she leans subtly back against him, and he leans closer in. She may not get kitchen sex out of this, but she'll enjoy what she can.
"I'm so glad you're home safe." He whispers, nuzzling her neck affectionately as he helps her cut up the tomatoes. "Graceland just doesn't feel like home without you here. When I was first assigned here, I felt so out of place. I was so convinced I should have been in DC instead. Like this was all a horrible mistake. Seriously, I never even unpacked my suitcase."
Mike can feel her hands trembling under his own. He's not sure what it is that's making him feel so honest this afternoon. Maybe it was that this morning at therapy they asked him how he felt about her and he realized he wasn't going to tell a stranger something that he had never told her. Maybe it's just how close he feels to her right now, or the fact that he's not distracted by those inquisitive green eyes that's making him brave. Whatever it is, he finds that once he starts confessing it's difficult to stop.
"But then I met you and, I don't know, everything just kind of clicked into place. I started feeling more like I belonged somewhere, and I've never felt that before. Up until now, every place I've been just felt like a stepping stone to get to the next level. Don't get me wrong, there are a lot of things messed up about this house… but you're not one of them."
"Oh I don't know about that…" Paige starts to joke to lighten the mood, but Mike stops her.
"I do." Mike says solemnly.
Mike has stopped helping her chop and has brought his arms to wrap around her waist, the vegetables forgotten by both of them. He's so happy to be with her in the silent kitchen sharing this moment with her. Just the fact that she's standing, no longer forced to be in bed, is good enough for him. With her back pressed to him, he can't help but bury his face in her hair. She smells like grapefruit, and he's glad she's using her favorite shampoo again. At the hospital she just didn't smell like herself.
"You never told me that." Paige whispers, trying to figure out what Mike is doing. He's standing so close, why is he talking like this now?
"I should have." Mike says seriously. He can't believe she almost died without ever knowing the effect she had on him. "I should have told you the second I met you."
"You knew the second you met me? Please. You thought I was a party girl who got off on sleeping with my targets." Paige laughs, remembering the way Mike had looked at her when she first met him.
"I never thought that."
"Come on Mike. You barely said two words to me, and you freaked out thinking I was sleeping with Bobby."
"Cut me a break. I was terrified." Mike admits with a laugh. "You were different than any other woman I had ever met."
"Different how?"
"Well there's the obvious stuff. You're tough, but still kind. You're smart and a little devious and definitely not afraid to play dirty." He lets his fingertips lightly tickle her waist to prove his point. She squeals with laughter and squirms against him, and Mike stills his hands, pressing a light kiss to her shoulder in apology.
"You're spontaneous, but not in that cliche way people talk about. In a way where I truly have no clue what you're going to do next. But I like that. You always surprise me, and keep me on my toes." He continues on, wondering how he's never told her any of this before. She deserved to be told every day. "You're beautiful and you definitely know it, but you don't care."
"I'm sure you've met plenty of beautiful women…" Paige rolls her eyes at the compliment.
"Not like you." Mike says firmly. "I've met girls who are nice to look at, but that's about it. You though… Paige you're the most gorgeous woman in any room, and yet your looks are the least interesting thing about you."
"What the hell did they do to you in therapy this morning?" Paige asks with an uneasy laugh. Mike's sudden openness is taking her off guard.
"Nothing. Why?" Mike is suddenly nervous. "Is this not ok? Me talking like this, I mean. I don't want to make you uncomfortable-"
"No! It's fine! I mean, it's nice. I'm just surprised, I guess. It just seems a little out of the blue." Suddenly panicked, Paige asks. "Everything's ok, right? They're not kicking you out of Graceland or anything?"
"I guess, I just realized how close I was to losing you and when you almost lose someone, you think of all the things you should have told them…" Mike admits quietly. It was true, ever since the hospital something had changed between them. He'd felt it. Walls they'd put up before had come down. They had slipped into a pattern of intimacy at the hospital that they had never quite recovered from.
"I'm fine, Mike." Her hand comes down to hold his over stomach and she leans back into him.
"I know." Mike assures her. "I just keep thinking what if…"
"Mike, You can't do that. You'll drive yourself crazy."
"I know, and Paige, I know I'm being overbearing recently. I promise, I'll step back and let you get back to your life soon… I'm just not ready to let you go yet. Is that ok?" Mike asks her.
They can't stay like this forever, Mike knows that. Soon they're going to have to go back to the real world, and she's going to be better, and things will have to change. The rational side of him knows this. But despite Mike being a type-A workaholic who has never been able to slow down, these past few days at home with her have been pleasant for him. They've been peaceful. It's the first time in his life he's been able to enjoy doing nothing.
"Ok." Paige whispers shakily so quietly that Mike's not even sure she said anything. She sounds sad and he's not sure why. She sets down the knife and turns around to look up at Mike. Mike's brow furrows as he stares into her green eyes, trying to identify the emotion he sees in them.
Standing so close to her face-to-face, the room seems smaller. His mouth is suddenly dry. Mike finds himself staring down at her lips. He would only have to lean down a few inches and his lips would be on hers. He wets his lips nervously at the thought, his fingers twitching nervously where they rest on her hips.
He swore after the last time he kissed her, he would never kiss her again without her specifically asking him to. He wouldn't make that mistake again. He had almost ended their friendship once because he had misread the moment. Now with her being so fragile after the rape, he wouldn't dare touch her unless she specifically told him to.
He stares back at her eyes, trying to will her to ask him, but at the same time he knows it's too soon for anything like that. She needs time to heal, and he can't push her. She hasn't dealt with her issues yet and Mike knows it. She seems like she's coping, but Mike keeps waiting for her to fall apart. He needs to make sure he's there to catch her when she falls.
She's looking up at him, lips slightly parted, eyes wide, her one good hand placed over his heart. When he looks down to where she has rested her hand, he realizes he's wearing the same green polo today he was wearing the first time he kissed her. Just like then, as he looks back into her eyes, he feels the exact same urge to kiss her he felt that day, and just like that day he stops thinking. His hand tightens on her waist, pulling her forward to him...
"What's burning?"
Mike and Paige guilty jump apart at the sound of Charlie's voice calling out from the doorway.
"Shit the cookies!" Paige yells, running over to a pot on the stove, while Mike guiltily starts dicing tomatoes in an attempt to look busy. What the hell did he almost just do?! Paige had to have noticed that. Thank God Charlie had walked in before he'd done something truly stupid. AGAIN.
"What have you done to my kitchen?" Charlie demands storming into the kitchen. "Mike! You let her cook? She's worse than Johnny!"
"I was supervising…" Mike defends weakly. He's still trying to recover over what almost just happened between him and Paige. He would have to be more careful in the future.
"Paige what is burning? It smells like a bonfire in here!"
"I was making cookies." Paige holds out the recipe in defense and Charlie snatches it from her looking down at the piece of paper and then back up at Paige incredulously.
"You burned no baked cookies…"
"Just a little…" Paige says meekly, both her and Mike standing with their heads bowed as
Charlie yells at the two of them for soiling her hollowed kitchen with the smell of smoke.
"They're no bake cookies! The title alone suggests they cannot be burned! HOW?!" Charlie chastises.
Mike and Paige embarrassed, stare at the floor.
"We got distracted." Paige mutters, not looking up.
"When are you guys going back to work? Because you two are seriously the worst housewives ever. You don't clean, you can't cook, there's no sex…"
Paige and Mike exchange a guilty look, both realizing how close they may have just come to sex before Charlie came home.
"Is there sex?!" Charlie catches the look, misinterprets it, and can't contain her glee at the possibility.
"For the last time no! Of course not! No. No-No. No-No-No-No. NO!" Mike says flustered, because if Charlie had been just five minutes later he's pretty sure she would have walked in on him fucking Paige on the kitchen floor.
"Nine 'nos'? Really?" Paige looks offended she warranted such a reaction. Like the idea of sleeping with her was that repulsive.
"Look maybe you should go lie down for a bit. You must be tired." Mike says to Paige, trying to regain control of the situation. "I'll go order some pizzas, then I promise I will clean up this kitchen."
"Fine!" Paige yells at him, throwing the pot of charred goo on the floor so it splatters everywhere making an even bigger mess for Mike to clean. She then turns on her heel and storms up the stairs towards her room yelling back over her shoulder sarcastically, "Have fun with that!"