Chapter 8 The Return
Alex walked down the corridor toward Operations trying to calm her excitement, though she felt like shouting for joy. Michael had just called to inform her that she'd be needed in Operations to help Birkhoff check systems on his first day back. Telling herself not to run, her heart soared at the prospect of seeing him again after two weeks of constantly thinking about him. As she approached the door she took a deep breath and quickly checked her outfit before shoving it open.
Michael turned from studying the monitors above, nodding to her as she headed toward Birkhoff, trying not to feast her eyes on him. He was wearing a blue plaid shirt over a dark blue tee as he squinted from behind his glasses, his left hand tapping nervously on the desk. She floated toward him but Michael beat her to it, leaning over him as he studied the video displayed on his monitor.
"That's it," Michael cried, pointing over his shoulder to the screen. "We got him!"
"You think?" Birkhoff commented dryly, bringing up the image and focusing it in zoom.
Michael straightened and eyed her as she came up on Birkhoff's left. "Now all we have to do is find the rest of them, which is why I recruited Alex here to help you— I'm due in training in ten."
"Guten morgen," Birkhoff droned as he glanced up at her with a wan smile before gazing back at his screen. "Welcome to Nervous Central, where we're already working on our ulcers before breakfast time."
She laughed and sat down on his left, powering up her monitor. "Hi, did you have a good vacation?"
"As good as can be expected," he sighed, looking no more rested than the last time she'd seen him. "Miss me?"
"Of course," she teased, glancing up at Michael as she sniffed the air."What's that I smell?"
"Smell? "he choked in horror, glancing down her length before swerving his gaze back as he typed quickly. "I'll have you know I keep this place as sanitary as a clean lab."
Michael crossed his arms, clearly amused. "That would be his new breath freshener."
"Excuse me—my breath happens to be fresher than yours!" he shot back, distracted by the data scrolling before him as he typed.
"In your dreams," Michael sighed, raising his brows at her. "You don't seem too unhappy about the prospect of working with the Wizard of Oz here."
Typing her password, she waited for entrance into the system. "Not at all," she stated, glancing at Birkhoff's profile. "It sure beats power boxing."
"Then we'll make it your regular schedule," he nodded, looking meaningfully at Birkhoff, "though I suspect you might change your mind, after a day or two."
"She stays," Birkhoff interjected, glancing up at her, then at him. "Seriously dude—I need her, and you've got nobody else near as qualified for the job."
"Amanda might question that statement," Michael said just to bait him.
She glanced up at him, her typing not nearly as fast as Birkhoff's. "I really like this assignment, Michael. It's much more challenging than the others."
"She tested higher than the other recruits," Birkhoff added, looking at him over the rims of his glasses.
Michael shifted his gaze between them. "Alright Alex—I'll see what I can do to get you an internship—"
"You're mine, all mine!" Birkhoff declared with an evil laugh, twiddling his fingers over his keyboard as he glanced at her triumphantly. "You'll never escape my trap!"
"Then let's get to work," she smiled, turning back to her screen. She eyed the empty spot on his right where his drink usually stood. "What—no Red Bull or coffee?"
"After that last spill drinks are outlawed in Operations," Michael explained, patting Birkhoff's shoulder reassuringly. "But in order to keep Wonder Boy here happy, I've come up with a strategy which your sense of smell seems to have already detected."
"What?" she laughed, watching Birkhoff raise his hands in surrender.
"The robotification of human staff is already well in progress," he complained, pulling out a small yellow box to show her. Tipping his head back, he shook something like red drops onto his tongue.
She tried not to stare as its red food dye coating, nor at the way he licked his lips while staring at his screen. She sniffed again. "What is that, atomic fireballs? They smell like cinnamon."
"Red Hots, my dear," he corrected while Michael hid a laugh with one hand. "Courtesy of our fearless leader here."
She bit back a laugh, glancing up at Michael. "Where on earth did you get them?"
"I have my sources," he said with a slight bow of his head. "It had my highest priority."
"Oh, he's having the vending machine stocked with them just for moi," Birkhoff sighed without looking up from his split screens. "Isn't that thoughtful?"
"And convenient," she agreed, studying his profile. "So you've taken up a new addiction."
"Believe me, you need all the addictions you can get to work in this place," he murmured, squinting at the monitor as his fingers stopped. "Oh uh—trouble."
Michael stiffened, glancing up at the larger screens. "What's up? Wait a minute—that guy wasn't there in the other shots!"
"How are things going?" Amanda greeted them, strolling into the command center and coming up behind Birkhoff. She placed a hand on the back of his chair and eyed the screen Michael studied. "Is this the feed from Sarajevo?"
"Yeah—you recognize that guy on the right?"
Alex noted how Birkhoff stiffened as Amanda leaned closer, his fingers jabbing his keyboard. She glanced up at Dragon Lady suspiciously.
"No one I recognize, why?" she answered, glancing down at Birkhoff.
"It's from Helsinki, and though we've gone over and over it we still can't figure out what went wrong."
"Really?" she breathed, almost pressing her leg against Birkhoff's arm.
"Here, take a seat," he offered, sliding away from her and getting up. Alex caught a whiff of his Red Hots breath as he stood closer to her chair.
Amanda smiled and took his chair, manipulating the screen to her liking as he shoved his hands into his sweatshirt pockets. Alex looked up and caught his eye, telegraphing him an understanding look.
"You seem a little nervous today, Seymour," Amanda breathed, her eyes on his monitor. "Maybe two weeks weren't enough of a vacation for you."
"Oh it was enough, trust me," he insisted, pointing out an identifier to Michael. "See that plate? It's not a local one, but it makes no sense."
Amanda got up and glanced at Alex. "Oh I'm sure you'll fix the problem, Birkhoff," she said with a smile, strolling back toward the door. "I have complete faith in you. Michael, I'll see you in the conference room," she sighed, going out the door.
Michael eyed Birkhoff with a troubled expression, satisfied that the door had closed. "She's onto you, man," he warned with a smile, following after her.
"Right-o," Birkhoff breathed, taking his chair and offering him a backhanded wave. "Back to work…"
Alex leaned toward him, hiding a smile. "I told you—she likes you," she whispered.
"Careful," he warned quietly, searching for the plate number "She might be hovering out there in the hall…and I'm not being paranoid."
"Warning heeded," she sighed, scrolling through the data he'd e-mailed her. "Good to have you back."
"Thanks, I think," he sighed, eyes on his monitor as he opened up another search engine.
"Oh and by the way," she added, glancing over at him, "I like the cinnamon-fire atmosphere in here."
His lips spread toward a smile as he spliced video images. "Thought you might…"
He looked especially attractive today, his hair freshly washed and his scraggly beard coming back in. Remembering the way Amanda had nearly brushed against his arm, she glanced down at his lap and felt herself blush. Shooting her eyes to his shirt pocket, she was suddenly inspired.
"Can I try one?" she whispered, smiling when he halted abruptly and glanced at her.
He swallowed, his expression guarded. "Try what?"
She moistened her lips, noting his eyes drop to that place. "The Red Hots."
He huffed and straightened, resuming his work. "Uh-uh."
"Pleeeease?"
"'Fraid not, sweetheart," he stated, "those are stocked specifically for yours truly—Michael's orders."
She rolled a little closer and leaned toward him, reaching toward his pocket. "But I love cinnamon!" she pouted.
He caught her wrist, eyes on his screen. "Stop, thief!"
She twisted in her chair, reaching under his arm with her other hand to snatch the box. He eyed her with a warning glance.
"Make me," she whispered as he let go and watched her pop one into her mouth. Her eyes widened. "Mmmm!" she moaned, feeling hot cinnamon begin to numb her tongue.
He stared at her lips and she froze. When he looked up his eyes blazed dark navy, imprisoning her with a look of unmistakable desire. She felt herself melt at the look in his eyes. Then he cleared his throat quietly and hunched over his keyboard again.
"Better get back to work," he said in a thick voice.
She slowly slid the box of Red Hots toward him and turned back to her own work, unable to say another word. The temperature in the room seemed to have risen ten degrees, but they both worked in silence until he leaned back, running his hands through his hair.
"This is impossible," he declared with a sigh, shaking his head.
"What is?" she breathed, looking up at him.
"Trying to find this double agent," he complained, gesturing toward the big screen. "Like finding a needle in a haystack. Any luck on your end?"
"Not so far," she admitted. "You look like you need a break."
"Yeah, one that lasts for about 10 years," he murmured. "How's things been here while I was gone?"
She shrugged. "Boring."
He chuckled, shoving back toward his workstation. "That's what I like to hear."
""Can you still tutor me?" she dared ask, watching him open more screens with determined intensity.
"Fraid not," he sighed.
Troubled, she half turned to face him after checking no one else was about. "Why not?"
"Because you don't need it."
"But I want to learn everything I can from you," she told him, watching him work feverishly.
"I can't," he sighed, shaking his head as he eyed his screen. "Percy's bringing in a specialist so I won't have any time."
"But you just got back—"
"Yeah and he's had all his projects on hold till now…this one's gonna be a bear, too. I can feel it."
"Is that why Michael assigned me here? Because you won't be?"
"Yup, that is the plan."
She resumed her work, hating the tension between them. "But I want to work with you," she said quietly, glancing over at him to see his guarded expression back in place. "I can't help you very well if I don't know a quarter of your knowledge," she tried again.
"Look it's too much for me, ok?" he said quietly, pursing his lips and avoiding her eyes. "I just can't."
She paused, studying his profile, loving the way his hair fell over his temple. She had all she could do not to reach over and smooth it back. "What's too much?" she whispered.
He continued working, the tip of his tongue peeking out to moisten his lips. "I think you know..."
She stared at his lips, hungry to taste the cinnamon on his tongue. "I staked out your building, looking for you," she whispered, watching him pause before he resumed typing. But he didn't look over at her.
"I was out of town."
She nodded, opening up another screen and studying the photos he'd sent. "Did Guy tell you?"
He pursed his lips again, nodding as he worked. "He did."
"He really admires you, you know," she said with a sigh. When he was silent, she followed his lead and got to work, keeping her eyes on her own screen. "So do I."
Running his hands down his face, he closed his eyes. "Dear God, give me strength," he sighed, still seeing the look in her eyes and feeling its effect. It had been a very, very long time since a woman had looked at him like that, if ever. And Alex was even more attractive and younger, which made her even more capable of hurting him. His first love had betrayed him like everyone else, and he had to admit he was highly vulnerable despite his cocoon of cynicism and devil may care attitude. He knew what it felt like to have a woman shatter his mind and heart, and it had hurt even worse than his father's betrayal. He just couldn't afford to risk getting close to anyone again, especially not now.
Why on earth did she focus on him, he wondered, when there were other guys closer to her age and type? And why did Michael assign her to work in Operations of all places? Or had that been Amanda's doing? If it was Michael then he should have sensed how much torture it would be for him to work with such a young, beautiful and intelligent girl at his side. Then again maybe Michael wasn't really his friend after all. Maybe he was kidding himself about that as well as about Alex. Maybe she was just toying with him, looking for something or someone to relieve her boredom. If that was the case then he'd just stay cool and aloof, wait out things and see how they developed.
You're too late, Birkhoff…
He opened his eyes, planting a hand on the stall door and shoving it out of his way. He stalked over toward the mirrors and stared at himself, knowing things had already gone way beyond what they should be. Regardless of her motivation he knew he was stuck. She tempted him beyond anything he'd experienced before. She was all he could think about on his way back, and she'd invaded his dreams too. Just flirting with her made his day, lifted his spirits and frustrated his body, and he couldn't seem to help himself. She certainly wasn't making it easy for him with those eyes of hers eating him up every chance she was around.
Shaking his head he bent to splash cold water on his face and hopefully wake up. "What I really need is a cold shower," he murmured, staring at himself as he patted his face dry with a rough paper towel.
"This is all your fault," he croaked, eyeing himself. "You should know better—"
"What's all your fault?" Michael's voice jarred him.
Freezing, he eyed his reflection in the mirror, whirled around and strode past him toward the door.
"Nothin' man," he sighed, running a hand through his hair as he strode out into the hall. Glancing through the window into Operations, he saw that the chair Alex had occupied was empty. She must have left after he'd taken a bathroom break.
"Yes!" he hissed, shoving open the door and going back to his desk. "Now I can get some real work done."
Pulling out his chair, he sat down and reached for his mouse, freezing when he noticed the little triangle of white peeking out from beneath the pad. Glancing around, he saw that he was alone and pulled it out. Slipping his hands beneath the keyboard tray, he unfolded it and stared at the address and time written there.
Alex, what are you doing? he thought with a mixture of alarm and excitement. He recognized the date as recruits' night out, and pictured the last time when she'd come to his apartment. What had happened after that was partially the cause of his present torment, he realized with a sigh of regret.
Hearing voices, he stuffed the note into the side of his sneaker and pretended to tie his laces as Michael entered the room.
"You alright?" he called, coming to his side to stare down at him.
"Yeah sure!" he answered, glancing down at his keyboard as he got back to work. "Why?"
"Oh nothing, aside from the crazy little pantomime I just witnessed from you in the men's room."
"Yeah well those Red Hots are a poor substitute for Red Bull and expresso," he shot back.
Michael sat down, turning in Alex's chair to face him. "You know, that two week vacation didn't seem to do you much good aside from giving you time for your highlights to fade."
"Good one," he breathed, holding up his index finger. "One point for you, but with the anvil of Percy's disapproval hanging over me it wasn't possible."
Michael chuckled, leaning back. "Yeah I know what you mean… where'd you go anyway—Amsterdam?"
"Now that's not fair," he drawled, wanting to punch him. "I gave up the ladies thanks to the Michael anvil also hanging over my head."
"So this is about women," Michael smiled, "I knew it! What, no action on your vacation?"
"Don't even go there," he warned. "I was watched like a hawk and you know it."
Michael leaned closer, pressing his fingers together to make a pyramid. "You were off the radar most of the time and you know it," he said quietly.
"So?" he glanced at him, interrupting his typing. "I like my privacy."
"Sure you do," he breathed, leaning back and eyeing him. "I have my suspicions, don't get me wrong."
"Yeah well keep them to yourself, and I'll do the same for you," he answered, glancing furtively at him. "Deal?"
He held his gaze a moment, then bowed his head in acquiescence. "Alright…just be careful, my friend."
"You too, man," he sighed, shaking his head. "Now let me get some work done, will you?"