Sunday, November 18th, 2012
Unknown

Amy opened her eyes, never realizing she'd fallen asleep. Thankfully, it had been a dreamless sleep, so she managed to control herself as the first PTSD episode of the day came and passed. Stan was standing by a table covered in...quite a few things, but mostly tools, wires, and strange cans. Eventually, he sat and started to sort his supplies, paying no attention to Amy, Reid, and Domonick. Hours passed, and soon Amy discovered a sad truth: Stan was making something, and that something was going to kill them all.

Amy knew Stan wasn't looking, so she quickly used sign language to tell Reid and Dom to work together for them to escape. They nodded, carefully untying each other's wrists and stopped there, waiting for Amy's next cue. However, they simply stared at Amy, who had carefully and silently unbuttoned and removed her coat and long, black sweater, exposing only her button-down turtleneck sweater and dark skinny jeans. She swallowed nervously as she turned her attention to Stan.

"Stan?" she asked cautiously, using the voice she knew he fell for.

It worked. He straightened up and set down his wire cutter, enchanted by the sound of her voice. "Yes, Amy?"

Amy swallowed again as she said, "It's getting awfully...hot in here."

Stan turned his head slowly to face her as she slowly unbuttoned the turtleneck, exposing the pale flesh of her neck and chest. It obviously took all of Stan's strength not to get up and rip the turtleneck off her completely, as he was shaking and grabbing the chair he sat in, pressing his right hand to his mouth to prevent him from saying anything he knew he would regret.

Amy closed her eyes and smiled ever so slightly, acting as if the cool air on her neck and chest was heaven-blessed, when really, she knew her trick was working. "That feels...so good." She shook her head. "But it isn't enough." She slowly unbuttoned her turtleneck sweater further, exposing her bra and breasts.

Stan was nearly panting at the sight. He knew it was a ruse, which was why he was restraining himself. He'd been practicing his self-restraint a lot recently. However, he knew that if she dared open up that sweater further let alone remove it, he wouldn't be able to hold himself back much longer...

Amy's smile was fading, being replaced by semi-parted lips forming a rather seductive expression, especially with her eyes closed the way they were... "Still not enough..." Her voice was but a whisper as she unbuttoned the sweater to her belly button...

Stan couldn't control himself any longer. He rose from his seat and, in an almost literal flash, was on top of her, removing her sweater as well as his own in haste. Amy began to cry out but he silenced her, his lips pressing against hers, his tongue seeking the holy grail of her small mouth...

Amy couldn't believe her trick had worked. She panicked as he unbuttoned and unzipped their pants, removing their underwear quickly, but that was all speculation. She felt nothing down there as - from the ghastly pale faces of Reid and Dom in her periphery - he penetrated her for what seemed like the millionth time, only knowing for fact he was removing her bra and pulling her closer to him. His caresses seemed so foreign, as if the past nine months of silence between the two of them had been too much of a time gap which left him a starved lover. His kisses were dry, as if he had thirsted for her for too long in that nine-month drought. However, as Stan grew re-accustomed to her body, his hunger and thirst subsided some, and he seemed more passionate and gentle, his hands moving up and down her back without hurting her.

While Stan wasn't paying attention to her hands and eyes, she looked at Reid and Dom and waved her hand to catch their attention before signing for them to finish untying each other and get out. Dom translated in inaudible whispers (the siblings were experts at sign language, Dom having been a translator before anyone knew he was a CIA agent), and soon the two were untied and on their feet. Reid started to walk over slowly but Dom grabbed his arm tightly, shaking his head and mouthing what Amy had signed to him: "We're escaping this time; she'll stay behind."

Reid looked back at Amy with a pained expression, one that made Amy's eyes water, but she signed "No, go!" repeatedly until finally the two left. Amy knew their escape was crucial; it had been when she escaped and returned. She knew how much it hurt them to leave her there - it had hurt her, too - but she knew it was the only way to finally arrest Stan. And she knew that however long Stan made this last, his rage of having been outsmarted would be undeniably horrid.

And she knew he rarely missed his mark.

Author's Note:

Sorry this is so short...