ALL I ASK

By Athena

To love someone deeply gives you strength. Being loved by someone deeply gives you courage.

-Lao Tzu

*****

Hands braced on Donovan’s firm shoulders, Madeline rode him hard. With each thrust, she gyrated her hips slightly, antagonising the man below her with each movement. He grunted softly as she moved above him, his hands massaging her breasts roughly, his hips joining hers in equal movement.

Madeline was pleased. It was rarely hard to determine what movements would drive a man to the edge, but it had taken longer than usual for Donovan to find an appropriate rhythm beneath her. But find it he did, and they were well on their way to climax – at least, he was.

She remained unaroused. It wasn’t that the sensations weren’t pleasurable. The feeling of his hands massaging her breasts, the thrust and pull of his penis within her, the sound of him grunting her name all drove her wild. But true arousal escaped her; the possibility of orgasm an indistinct vision in the distance.

Sighing deeply in a way she was sure he would mistake for pleasure, she tightened her vaginal muscles around him, feeling him shudder slightly within her. He was almost there. For a moment, she considered guiding his hand; teaching him how to pleasure her as she was clearly pleasuring him. But the thought floated away as quickly as it had come. Why bother? she thought to herself, bringing her hand down from his shoulder to massage herself roughly.

She watched his eyes follow her hand, eyeing it suspiciously as she stroked at her clitoris. Pinching at her swollen arousal, she arched her back, clenching her muscles even more tightly as she did so. Donovan gasped and freed her breasts, his hands coming to rest on her thighs as release came. His breath came in short gasps, but Madeline ignored him, continuing her own stimulation until she too lay spent.

Groaning softly, she fell against his chest, hand still trapped between their bodies. As his hand came up to stroke her shoulder, Madeline rolled off him, detaching herself from the flurry of limbs that had led to their climax. Stooping, she picked up her panties from the floor and turned back towards the bed.

He was staring after her; a look of shame and disappointment plastered on his face. It was a look Madeline recognised, a look she’d caused many times, on the faces of many men.

“Hey, Madeline, I- “ he began, leaning on an elbow to watch her dress. “I didn’t realise… I mean, how could I know?”

Madeline simply stared back at him, face showing nothing, her mind running through various possible responses – all well- rehearsed.

“I hope this doesn’t mean…I mean, could we have coffee later?” he continued, pulling the blanket almost self-consciously over his lower half.

“No,” she replied. Short. Succinct. “Not a good idea.”

Twisting her hair up in a knot, Madeline walked towards the door, stopping in the doorway to look back at the bed. She gave Donovan a quick appraising nod, leaning on the door jamb as she put on her shoes. “You should work on your technique,” she threw towards him, shutting the door before he could respond.

****

Paul stood casually just inside the doorway of the Perch, waiting to be noticed. It didn’t take long before the two women turned towards him, stopping their conversation to look him over.

He took the opportunity to do the same, turning his eyes from one woman to the other, taking in every detail.

Adrian stood before him, eyeing him warily. From the moment he’d set foot in Section five years before, they had had a love-hate relationship. At times she seemed to respect him, complimenting him on his strategies and unique methods; she’d even overseen portions of his training herself. And yet, sometimes, the look of disdain on her face and in her posture were hard to hide. She seemed to begrudge him his position, to disapprove of him on some level. Today appeared to be one of those times.

Madeline was leaning on the ledge that ran along the window, her face expressionless, her long dark hair lying across her shoulders. She was young, barely twenty-four, yet Paul knew that beneath her youthful exterior was a calculating and engaging mind. She was a force to be reckoned with, that much was well known.

That she’d risen quickly to a position of power after she’d been brought into Section was also well known, and many said that had been a mistake on Adrian’s part. A severe mistake that would eventually come back to haunt her. After barely seven years in the confines of Section, Madeline was a team leader and Adrian’s most trusted adviser. The position brought power, but it also brought a great deal of responsibility – responsibility that Paul did not envy her one bit. Adrian was a harsh mentor, and her severe treatment of Madeline was bound to take its toll in the long run.

Paul had also risen quickly, finding himself elevated from level one to level three soon after his training period ended. Now, he played second to Madeline’s leadership. It was that position, he assumed, that had brought him to the Perch today.

Taking a few steps into the room, Paul smiled at the women, taking one last careful look at Madeline to gauge her mood. Although her expression revealed nothing of what she was feeling, Paul sensed that the conversation she’d been having with Adrian hadn’t been pleasant. There was something about her posture, a tension in her back and neck that suggested worry, but it was nothing he could put his finger on.

Adrian finally broke the silence, walking to the monitor on the far side of the room as she spoke. “This is Antonia Devins. Six months ago, after her father’s death, she came into a great deal of money. At the behest of her father’s advisers, she’s been placing that money in off-shore accounts; accounts that are financing several growing terrorist groups in the Middle East and the U.S.S.R.”

The face on the monitor changed, to reveal a man’s face. “Alvin Devins. Her father. It appears he was an active supporter of those groups before his death. Providing them with funds, weapons, whatever he could get his hands on. His motives are unclear, but his involvement has pushed the groups towards merging: they are only lacking the resources”

The image shifted back to Antonia, the faces of her father’s four advisors framing hers. “Antonia is completely unaware of her father’s dealings. But her father’s beneficiaries are well aware of his death. Our sources tell us they plan to take advantage of the weakened Devins’ estate and that they’re using Alvin’s advisors to do it. They’re pushing them to transfer more funds, and they are, in turn, pushing Antonia.”

Shutting off the monitor, Adrian turned back towards Madeline and Paul. “We need to move quickly, before the groups are able to combine their resources. That’s where you two come in. Antonia is throwing a party in two days time. The guest list is extensive; including her father’s old associates, her own acquaintances and several high society figures. You two will attend, mingle and learn all you can.”

“That’s it?” Paul asked, wondering why two high-level ops were being used for a seemingly simple assignment.

“No. You will also retrieve Alvin Devins’ directory. It’s onsite, apparently housed in a computer system in the back of the house. The profile will be uploaded to your terminals by the end of the day. “

“What’s our cover?” Madeline asked, shifting her gaze from Adrian to Paul, perhaps to gauge his reaction to the information.

“Marcus and Katerina Williams. Newlyweds, very much in love. Marcus is a social butterfly and a well known flirt; his wife is the quiet type, tags along to parties out of sheer devotion and love. Paul, you will keep Antonia distracted while Madeline retrieves the data. I trust you can be sufficiently charming?”

Paul tried, and failed, to suppress a chuckle. “Of course,” he said, smiling broadly at Madeline. Giving her a wink, he turned his attention back to Adrian. “She’ll never know what hit her.”

“Wonderful. Check your terminals. There will be an additional briefing on the day of the party. Until then, I suggest you two review the guest list and your back-story.”

With one final nod to both women, Paul exited the room, stopping outside the doorway to look back. The women had returned to their previous positions; Madeline still seated, Adrian glaring at her from above. The main difference, at least to Paul’s eyes, was that Madeline’s tension had increased noticeably. Her back was tense, her eyes focused on a spot slightly to the right of Adrian’s head.

He couldn’t hear them speaking, their voices were too low. But, it was clear from Adrian’s tone that she was upset and even clearer from Madeline’s that she was being forced to defend her actions. His brow creased in worry, Paul moved away from the door and out of their line of vision, leaning heavily on the wall outside the door.

*****

Resisting the temptation to stomp from the room like a spoilt child, Madeline left the Perch, back straight, head facing forward. In fact, she was so focused on maintaining her semblance of calm, she almost tripped over Paul. He was leaning against the wall outside the Perch, eyes closed, legs a fair distance into the hallway.

Stopping before him, she kicked at his feet with one of hers. “If Adrian catches you out here, you’ll get a first- class invitation to the white room.”

Paul’s eyes fluttered open and he stood, indicating with a gesture that they should walk. “I was waiting for you,” he began as they descended the steps to the main floor. “Seemed a little tense in there. I wanted to make sure everything was all right with the mission. There isn’t anything you ladies aren’t telling me, is there?”

Madeline shook her head. “The mission is fine. Search and retrieve. We’ll need to go over the guest list together and the details of our ‘marriage’. But aside from that, it’s pretty basic.”

“That’s good to know. So, if it wasn’t the mission, what was going on in there?”

She froze, stopping in her tracks, an icy claw climbing up her spine. “It was a personal issue. Nothing you need to be concerned about.”

“I am concerned,” Paul began, grasping her arm and walking her down the corridor away from prying eyes. “You’re upset.”

Stopping again, Madeline shrugged off his hand, fighting to keep her fear and confusion from showing on her face. Was she so easy to read? Meeting his eyes with rising anger, she crossed her arms before her. “It’s not your concern.”

“I’m making it my concern,” he pursued, pausing to let her digest that information before continuing. “As your second I have to be prepared. I need to know if what went on in there is going to affect our mission.”

“It won’t,” she snapped, studying his face. His eyes seemed to be looking right into her; beyond the surface, seeing everything she tried so hard to hide. Wrapping her arms more tightly around her chest, she met his eyes once more. He was concerned for the mission, but there was something more – a deeper concern. Why the hell did he care? “I’m quite capable of separating personal issues from mission parameters, Paul.”

For a moment, she didn’t think he was going to back down. He stared down at her, his own arms crossed before him, his eyes boring into hers. Then, suddenly, he sighed, looking down at the floor. “All right,” he said, running a hand through his short cropped hair. “Find me later. We’ll go over those parameters.”

“1600?”

“Fine. I’ll be ready.” Turning, he walked back down the hallway towards Com. Madeline watched him as he walked through the main hub of Section, stopping to chat with Walter in Munitions.

In the three years she’d known him he’d proven himself worthy of her respect. He was a capable operative and an excellent tactician. But as a man, she couldn’t figure him out. Most men, within a week of joining her team, made a pass at her – testing their boundaries, seeing if they could ‘sleep their way to the top’. All were summarily rejected. One thing Madeline never did was sleep with members of her own team. Paul, for his part, hadn’t even tried. He sought her out for advice, he sought her company, but he did not seek to bed her.

It was unfathomable to Madeline that this was so, and yet, for three years it had been. They had grown into their roles together - a healthy respect and an almost friendship between them. Yet, as well as she thought she knew him, he continued to surprise her. Why did he care what went on between her and Adrian?

What does he want?

Every man she had ever known had wanted one of two things from her. Sex or power. Her solution to both was simple. Tempt them, make them believe they were in control, fuck them, and make it clear who truly was in control – her. That’s what she’d been doing with Donovan over the last several weeks; and that was what she’d done to innumerable men since she’d arrived at Section seven years before.

It was therapeutic, actually. By using men, she was able to nurse her own demons; able to control one part of her life, when all others seemed to crumble under her touch. But it was also a vicious circle and deep down, Madeline knew that. Her ‘promiscuity’, as Adrian put it, damned her.

That was what they had been arguing about when Paul entered the Perch. No, arguing was the wrong word. Arguing suggested that Madeline had been able to actually defend herself. In truth, Adrian had lectured while Madeline had listened, feeling more and more like a small child under her mother’s finger.

She hated that feeling.

Sighing deeply, Madeline began walking back towards her office. So Paul knew that something was wrong. But did he have any idea what? And did he truly care? Or was it some kind of ploy, some way to make her let her guard down?

He had to want something. Everyone wanted something. If it wasn’t her body, it had to be power. Was he making a play for power? If she let her guard down, would he play her for a fool? Had he been working his way into her life, simply to knock her down?

In general, Madeline considered herself a good judge of character. But where Paul was concerned, she was completely at a loss. He was simply there. He’d been under her for three years and had never once made a play for position; although he clearly had the ability and the ambition.

But it was more than that. He was concerned about her. Not about Section, not about himself. About her. She’d seen it in his eyes. Why did he care??

*****

Leaning against the work table in Munitions, Paul waited for Walter to bring him his pack. Generally, the older man drifted between Com and field work; but recently he’d been placed in Munitions, where he’d been developing his aptitude for explosive devices. He seemed to enjoy his ‘new digs’, and Paul chuckled as he watched him gather equipment. If a man could float on air, Walter was doing it.

“Hey, Walter,” he yelled towards the back. “You get lost back there or something?”

“Keep yer shirt on! I’m checking your com unit. Wouldn’t want it to short in the middle of the mission, now would we?” Walter called back, walking out from behind some shelves. “This place is a disaster. Don’t know how Rodney finds anything. Anyway, “ he continued, sliding the com unit across the table to Paul, along with a .9 mm. “Keep that piece somewhere where the dame won’t find it. That means you can dance close, but you can’t let her into your pants.” Walter winked, giving him a sly grin.

“Got it,” Paul chuckled, grabbing his equipment. As he turned to leave, Walter stopped him, grabbing his arm.

“You’ve been hovering around Madeline quite a bit lately.”

Paul started, nearly dropping his com unit. “No more than usual; she is my team leader. We’ve been on stand-by for this mission.”

“Uh huh,” Walter said, clearly unconvinced. “Listen, amigo, you can tell me it’s none of my business, but I’ve known Madeline longer than you. You don’t know what you’re getting into.”

“I think you’re wrong about her,” Paul replied, meeting Walter’s gaze dead on. Walter looked on, clearly surprised by his determination.

“What rock have you been living under? Madeline’s a sweet kid, but she’s trouble, man. Plain and simple. You can ask me, you can ask almost any man in this hellhole. She’s a looker, but she’s got a heart of stone. She’ll stomp on you like yesterday’s shit.”

“Thanks for the insight, Walter,” he snapped, yanking his arm from the older man’s grasp. “I’ve heard the stories; some of them first hand. You’re right. It is none of your business.”

“Hey, amigo, I’m sorry. She’s a good kid, a good operative. But she’s got issues.. And those issues? They tend to burn those that get too close.”

Paul didn’t reply, he just walked away. He’d heard it all before. He knew the rumours. Hell, he knew the truths. But he didn’t care. He knew there was more to Madeline than the whore that people saw. More to her than the user. Her behaviour was a defence mechanism, a façade she placed before her to ensure that no one got too close. He’d seen it a million times before; in Vietnam and here in Section. Everyone put up barriers; to hide their demons, to keep away those that would use those demons to control them.

Madeline was no different.

But she was. Everyone put up barriers, but in general, Paul didn’t care. He simply ignored them, and moved on. This time, however, he did care. He was drawn to her; as an colleague, as a friend, as a potential lover.

He knew everyone was wrong. He knew she was worth it.

But most of all, he knew he wanted to discover the woman beneath the façade.

*****

As Paul spun her around the dance floor, Madeline studied her surroundings. The lay-out was just as the intel had said; a large foyer, leading into the ballroom on one side and the dining room on the other. The guests were scattered among the three areas, mingling, dancing or nibbling on hors d’oeuvres.

A winding staircase led from the foyer to the upper levels. As soon as Antonia made her entrance, this was Madeline’s goal. Once Antonia and her various ‘attendants’ came downstairs, the upper levels would be pretty much unsupervised; the odd guard or two the only obstacle.

The problem was, Antonia had yet to appear. Madeline and Paul had arrived at the party almost two hours before. They had mingled. They had nibbled. They had scoped out the area. But the guest of honour was delaying their mission.

“This is ridiculous,” Madeline said, her voice low. They were dancing close; taking advantage of their cover as newlyweds to discuss the mission. To the outside observer, they were very much in love; Katerina melded against Marcus’ body, her arms draped casually over his shoulders. In reality, Madeline was hardly casual. “It does not take a normal woman this long to get ready for a party.”

Paul chuckled and she felt the motion of his chest under her cheek. “Forgive me, my dear,” he began, shifting his body slightly against hers. “But you’re hardly one to judge what constitutes a normal woman.”

Lifting her head from his chest, Madeline met his eyes with a fierce glare. “Uh uh,” he cut her off, kissing her lips lightly to block her words. “Happily married newlyweds….very much in love…”

Madeline smiled, pulling herself quickly back into character. “This isn’t over,” she said sweetly, caressing his cheek with the back of her hand. Sliding it up through his hair, she kissed his other cheek, pressing her breasts against his chest. To her surprise, he shuddered slightly under her touch, his neck tensing as her hips brushed against his.

He did want her.

Stifling a chuckle of her own, she slid her hand down to his chest, laying it gently over his heart. She could feel the beat increase as he began to lose control. She could also feel him struggling against it; breathing steadily, his body fighting for calm.

It seemed the enigma wasn’t as mysterious as she’d originally thought. His motivations had been the same as all the others; he’d just been more subtle in his pursuit. As Madeline lay her head back against Paul’s chest she found herself oddly disappointed.

He was just like everyone else…

*****

Almost an hour later, Madeline was ready for the evening to end. She and Paul had played their roles well, inciting endearing glances from the other guests; but the guest of honour still had not made an appearance. Seated on a couch in the foyer, head resting on Paul’s chest, Madeline’s impatience continued to grow.

“Martin?” she mumbled, loud enough to be picked up by her com, but not by the people around her. “Do we abort?”

“No.” The voice on the other end crackled. “Adrian says to wait it out. We’re not going to get another chance like this.”

“Understood.” Leaning back against the cushions, Madeline clasped Paul’s hand in hers, tracing the lines on his palm with her finger. “We’re in it for the long haul.”

“So I heard. How are you holding up?”

There it was again: the concern. “Fine,” she said, slipping her shoes off. “But next time we dance, you’re wearing the heels.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Paul laughed.

They remained seated for several more minutes, talking quietly. Finally, however, it was time to move. Antonia descended the stairs, an entourage of people behind her. “Martin,” Madeline whispered. “We have visual. Paul’s moving to intercept, I’ll proceed once she exits the foyer.”

“You’re good to go.”

With Antonia’s group moving into the ballroom, Madeline tugged her shoes back onto tired feet. The room emptied around her, all attention drawn to the woman who had just entered. A flock of vultures after a fresh kill. Madeline thought to herself. Poor girl will never get any peace.

Starting up the staircase, she reviewed the layout of the manor. If their sources were correct, the computer was housed on the second floor, on the far side of the house above the ballroom. It would be easy enough to get up the stairs, but finding her way to the back of the house unimpeded might pose a challenge. Ideally, Plan A would work; Madeline had no intention of climbing up the trellis on the far side of the house.

Turning right at the top of the steps, Madeline put Plan A into effect. Walking down the hallway, she limped slightly, favouring her sore feet. As expected, she was almost immediately stopped by a guard coming from the left.

“’Scuse me, ma’am. You’re not supposed to be up here.”

“Oh dear,” Madeline began, leaning a hand against the wall for support. “I’m so sorry. I was just looking for the ladies room…” Sighing, she looked meekly towards the floor, batting her eyelashes at the young man. “I..umm….needed to ‘powder my nose’.”

The man was clearly affected. “I, uh, understand that ma’am. But the appropriate …facilities… can be found downstairs as well. You’ll have to use those.”

“Oh!” she pouted, lifting a leg to take off a shoe and massage her foot. “I’ve been dancing all night! And I just walked all the way up those horrendous stairs. I promise not to be long…couldn’t I use the one up here?”

“Umm… “ the young man stuttered, looking at the leg Madeline was blatantly revealing to his gaze as she massaged her foot. Clearing his throat, he scratched at his head. “I suppose it’s all right. It’s down this hallway, on the left. Third door.”

Placing her shoe back on her foot, she walked towards the guard, swaying her hips slightly as she walked. “Thank you,” she said, kissing him lightly on the cheek. Giving him a quick wink as she pulled away, she proceeded down the hall. “I promise not to tell…”

Walking quickly down the hall, Madeline ducked into the room the young man indicated, waving at him as she shut the door. As she leaned against the door on the other side, she heard a soft chuckle of laughter over her comlink. Paul.

“You know,” he said, laughing lightly. “You missed your calling. You should have been a debutante.”

“Shouldn’t you be keeping our hostess busy? Or has she brushed you off already?”

“She’s looking after some details. She’ll be back.”

“I see,” Madeline replied, opening the bathroom door a crack to ascertain the location of the guard. Finding him gone, she stepped out. “All right, Martin. Where am I going?”

Her comlink crackled slightly. “Keep walking down that hallway. You should come to a corridor that’s perpendicular.”

“Okay. Left or right?”

“Left. Take that hallway, and keep going right to the end. It’s the last door on the right. That’s where the signal is coming from.”

“Got it,” she replied, looking left down the corridor. Swearing under her breath, she pressed herself against the wall. “There’s a guard.”

“You’ve gotta take him out. Is there anyone else around?”

“No, the other guard is by the stairway.”

“Good. Proceed.”

Taking a deep breath, Madeline turned down the corridor, swaying her hips provocatively as she walked. She was more than half way down the hallway before the guard noticed her approach. “Hey,” she murmured, licking her lips. “Why aren’t you at the party downstairs? You’re missing some great dancing.”

“Ma’am. You’re not supposed to be in this area of the house. “ He walked towards her slowly, eyes following the sway of her hips. Really sloppy training. He wasn’t even armed.

Sighing, she pouted at him, lacing her hands around his neck when he got close enough. “I know, but I felt sorry for you boys. You know,” she continued, bringing one hand down to fondle him. “All work and no play…”

The guard moaned at her touch and Madeline moved her hand back up to his neck, forcing her hips against his. Bingo she thought, as he leaned in to kiss her fiercely. Too easy.

Cupping his neck just below the chin, Madeline broke the kiss, giving the guard a malicious smile before jerking his head sharply to the left. The man crumpled before her, and she stepped over him, opening the door to the computer lab without any further trouble. Grasping him by the shoulders, she pulled him into the room behind her, leaving the body in the centre of the room.

“I’m in.”

“Good,” Martin replied. “You know what to do from here.”

Closing the door quietly behind her, Madeline set to work, seating herself at the computer desk. She searched through various directories before she uncovered the files she needed. Two database files had been buried in the system, password protected and encrypted. The password had been easy to break, but the encryption sequence was taking too long.

“Martin? You’ll have to decrypt these back at Section. The sequence is too complex.”

“That’s fine. Download them onto the diskette and bring them home.”

Tearing the hem of her dress, Madeline pulled out the concealed disk and slipped it into the drive. “Ok. We’ve got about ten minutes to kill while this downloads. You still with us, Paul?”

The responding laughter told her he was still there. “Yes, people were getting a little impatient about your entrance. But it was well worth the wait, my dear. You look simply exquisite.”

“Oh please,” Madeline scoffed, leaning her face on her hand. “Do I have to listen to this for another eight minutes?”

A slight feminine giggle through the comlink was the only response she received. “No, I’m sure my wife wouldn’t mind if we danced….probably resting her tired feet in the other room…after you my dear…”

Dancing?! Now they were dancing. Madeline sighed, checking her watch. Seven minutes. Tucking an errant strand of hair behind her ear, she watched the progress of the download, trying to ignore the whisperings she could hear over her comlink.

Comments about the music, how much he loved Chopin. Her asking where he’d learned to dance – no men in her circle could dance like he could. Would he teach her some steps? A soft chuckle from Paul, the responding girlish giggle – directed right into the ear his comlink was connected to.

Five minutes. Had it really only been two minutes!? The mild flirtation continued on the other end of the comlink, and Madeline was becoming increasingly frustrated. He was doing it on purpose. First the comment about Antonia’s late entrance being worth the wait, then the comment about Katerina’s sore feet keeping her from dancing. He was trying to antagonise her. And the trouble was: it was working.

A small knot was developing in Madeline’s stomach as she listened to the laughter and whispered words on the other end. It was gaining momentum with each agonising minute. Why was this affecting her this way? It was a mission, he was playing a role. More importantly, why did she care that Paul was flirting with someone?

Could she actually be jealous!?

No! That was insane. He was a colleague. Nothing more. She was just upset about being stuck downloading files while he was dancing and enjoying himself. That was all.

Turning back to the computer screen, she sighed again: three minutes remaining. She could do this. She just needed to concentrate on the job. She would figure out the rest later.

A strange feminine voice over the comlink drew Madeline’s attention from the screen. Now she could hear Antonia’s anxious whispers in Paul’s ear. “Christ, Paul, could you get her to whisper sweet nothings in your other ear? I don’t need a play by play. She does know you’re married right?”

Madeline heard Paul chuckle. Leaning back in the computer chair, arms crossed, she wondered which woman he was laughing at: herself, or Antonia. She closed her eyes, struggling to will away the small knot that was making its way up her oesophagus and into her throat. This couldn’t possibly be happening. He was just a man…

A voice in the hallway startled her out of her reverie. Someone was coming. Grabbing the disk from the drive, the download finally complete, she stood up quickly. “Dammit. Martin, the other guard is down the hall. Is there another way out of here?”

“Just the window.”

“All right. I’m heading out that way then. Paul, make your excuses, we’ll meet the van around the back.”

Tucking the disk into the bodice of her gown, she opened the window, shuddering against the rush of cold air that blew into the room. Figures, she thought, climbing out onto the thin ledge that ran the length of the window. As she balanced precariously on its edge, she allowed her shoes to fall into the bushes below, before swinging herself around to climb down the trellis that ran up the side of the house.

She climbed carefully to the ground, snagging her dress only once on the undergrowth. The resulting tear ran from ankle to knee, revealing more of her body to the frigid cold. Grabbing her shoes from the bushes, she ducked behind a large tree, ensuring the way was clear. Paul was waiting for her behind the tree, his jacket draped over his arm.

“Here,” he said, holding out the coat. “Put this on. Martin’s parked around the far side. We have to move quickly, your handiwork has been discovered.”

She merely grunted in reply, shrugging into the coat as she ran towards the awaiting van. Of course he would be there. Of course he would act gallant. Damn him.

*****

After debriefing with Adrian, Madeline proceeded to her office, not even bothering to remove her torn dress. The debrief had been embarrassing to say the least. She’d had to listen again while Paul described his flirtation with Antonia. Although not essential to the mission itself, Adrian had been curious about how much the young woman knew about her father’s business and had hoped that Paul had been able to glean some information. He hadn’t, but Adrian had insisted on hearing every detail.

Her own debrief had been followed by a list of her errors. It was as if Adrian were purposely tormenting her. Every moment had been called into question; from her dance steps to the killing of the guard. The dressing down had been cruel, but then, Adrian was a harsh teacher – most debriefings ended similarly for Madeline. But this time, it hadn’t been a private debrief. This time, there’d been an audience – and the audience was Paul.

Why that bothered her perplexed Madeline even more. It was hardly the first time that she had been chastised by Adrian with other people present. But this time had been different. Normally, she stood her ground, took Adrian’s concerns under advisement and walked away, head held high, knowing that her mentor was only trying to improve her performance. This time, she felt like crawling in a hole; curling up in a ball and fading to dust.

Unacceptable.

It was Paul who did it to her. Paul who was affecting her this way. As Adrian had castigated her, Madeline had watched him from the corner of her eye; gauging his reaction. Although he’d tried to hide it, his body language screamed anger, frustration; maybe even a little pity. And mentally, Madeline had dug herself an even deeper hole.

Clearly he was fighting a male urge to ‘defend her honour’; an urge brought on by his desire to bed her. But her own reaction, her own desire to have him look on her with pride, not pity…It couldn’t continue. She wouldn’t let it.

Somehow, she would regain control of the situation. Regain control of herself.

And she knew exactly the method she needed.

*****

Stopping in front of the door to Paul’s quarters, Madeline adjusted her blouse. The outfit she’d chosen was understated, businesslike. A short skirt, slightly above her knee, and a matching blouse, unbuttoned to reveal the swell of her breasts. Both pieces fit snugly to her curves, revealing everything and nothing all at the same time. And most of all, both pieces allowed easy access when the need arose.

As she knocked, her mind ran through various opening lines. Paul Wolfe was an enigma; it was doubtful he would easily fall prey to her come-ons. However, it was also unlikely he would resist long. He did want her, there was no denying that.

When he opened the door, all thought vanished from her mind. He stood before her clad only in loose fitting blue jeans; his chest and hair were damp, fresh from a shower. She hadn’t been expecting that; nor had she been expecting her heart to jump into her throat.

Dammit., she thought, smiling up at him to cover her discomfiture. Why did he continue to affect her this way? “Hello,” she said finally, taking a few tentative steps into his quarters. Each step brought greater control. She could do this. It was lust, that was all it was. She was being influenced by his desire for her. It wouldn’t be the first time it had happened, it likely wouldn’t be the last. But it needed to end here.

It needed to end before it distracted her more.

“Adrian seemed pleased with the results of our mission,” she began, seating herself on the limb of a large arm chair. “She finds us convincing as a married couple. Something about chemistry,” she continued, waving her hand as if to shoo away the idea. Watching him, she could tell she’d struck a nerve, a muscle in his neck had begun to twitch. “What do you think?”

Clearing his throat, he ran a hand through his damp hair. He was clearly agitated. Marvellous. “Interesting. I suppose she’ll be using us more in this capacity?”

“It’s possible,” Madeline said, standing to meet him in the centre of the room. Reaching up with her right hand, she stroked his chest and was pleased to hear his breath catch. “It’s so rare to find two operatives with true chemistry.”

“I’m sure it is,” he replied, removing her hand and clenching his fist by his side. Apparently, he was going to play hard to get.

She grabbed his arm before he could walk away, pinning it behind him as she moved her body closer to his. As quickly as she had pinned it, she released it, using her hands for more exploratory endeavours, while her lips sought his in a ferocious kiss.

Her hands caressed his chest and back, as she thrust her hips forward against his pelvis, feeling his arousal bulging against his jeans. Releasing his lips, she smiled up at him, seeing deep desire reflected back in his eyes. He wanted her. She doubted he could think of anything else.

Gyrating her hips against his crotch, she forced him back against the wall before bringing her hand downwards to fondle his genitals through his jeans. She felt his arousal twitch beneath her hand, a groan escaping from between his clenched lips.

“No,” he gasped, reaching down to clasp both her hands in one of his. He pushed her away sharply and she stumbled, falling against the arm chair she had vacated only minutes before. His eyes, still clouded with desire, were now laced with concern. “I’m sorry,” he said, breathing still laboured. “Not now. Not this way.”

Recovering quickly, Madeline stalked catlike towards him, eyes narrowed in determination. Stopping before him, she watched for a moment as he attempted to catch his breath, to quell his desire. Leaning against the wall, his eyes were closed, head tucked down towards his chest. She didn’t know what strength he was drawing on – but it was admirable. Admirable, but unnecessary. She was willing to sate his desire. Willing to take him to places he’d never been – he didn’t need to be a gentleman.

“Paul,” she whispered, running a finger down his chest; feeling his lungs shudder for air. His body tensed at her touch, and his eyes flew open, fixing her with an almost desperate gaze. Her finger continued down his chest, stopping at his waistband to pull him against her hips once more. “You don’t need to fight it…”

She swivelled her hips once more, freeing her hands to undo the clasp on his pants. She didn’t think it was possible, but his body tensed more as her fingers worked at the clasp, and he spun away from her, reversing their positions so that her wrists were pinned above her head against the wall. “NO,” he snapped, releasing her. “I will not be used.” He spit the words at her and walked away. Leaning against the far wall, he breathed unsteadily, his arousal clearly paining him.

“You just don’t get it, do you?” he managed between gasps. “I’m not one of your boytoys. I do not want to be ‘fucked’!”

“You want me…” Madeline replied evenly, her own anger mounting. Did he want her or not? What the hell was he trying to prove? She began to stalk towards him again, but was stopped by his glare.

“You’re damned straight I want you,” Paul said, his expression pained. “I think that’s fairly obvious to us both. The thing of it is, you want me too. Don’t you?”

Madeline was silent. Something was gnawing at the back of her mind, telling her that no matter what answer she gave – it would be the wrong one. And somehow, he would know it. “Of course I want you,” she hissed finally, taking one tentative step towards him.

“Don’t move!” Paul snapped. She stopped, her mind racing. “That’s not what I meant, and I think you know it. Look deeper, dammit! This isn’t just about sex.”

She looked on in stunned silence as he yelled, uncertain what to do; uncertain what to feel. What did he mean?

“God!” he grunted, his breath still coming in gasps. She knew from experience that at this point, he was in actual physical pain. Why was he doing this? “I don’t want you to ‘fuck’ me, Madeline. My desire goes deeper than that. Do you understand me?”

His words were met with silence. Madeline was truly at a loss. The gnawing in the back of her mind increased; a desire stirring. Not the urge for him physically, but a desire to understand.

She could see he was becoming overwhelmed. He was also glaring at her with growing irritation at her silence. “You don’t get it, do you? Maybe he was right, maybe you’ll never understand. “ He paused, his hand moving towards the bulge in his pants. “Get out. I can’t deal with this now.”

When she didn’t move, he stumbled towards her, pushing her towards the door. “Get out. Now.”

Madeline let herself be pushed out the door. Leaning heavily against it, she released a deep breath, her lungs shuddering with the effort. How had it all gone so terribly wrong? When had she lost control?

A lump formed in her throat and she lurched into motion, staggering towards her quarters at a run.

*****

Madeline had never been so frustrated in her entire life; and never so confused. After she’d left the corridor that held Paul’s quarters, she’d slowed to a walk, not wanting to draw attention to herself. But the walk to her own quarters had done nothing to calm her nerves. Instead, it had served to highlight her failure.

Damn him. she thought, throwing herself into an arm chair. What was he trying to prove?

It just didn’t make any sense. He either wanted her, or he didn’t, and no amount of determination on his part would change that. He had admitted that he wanted her; both his body and his mind knew it was true…so why was he now alone in his quarters, satisfying himself in less pleasurable ways? Did he think she couldn’t satisfy him?

No. He was well aware of her Valentine training; he’d done some of his own. Physical satisfaction wasn’t the issue. So what was? In seven years, she’d never failed at a seduction. What had gone wrong?

Leaning back against the cushions, Madeline attempted to focus her thoughts. There had to be some indication, some reason for his reaction. When she’d kissed him, when her hands had explored his body, he’d reacted; returning her kiss, body shuddering under her touch. Those had been purely physical responses – testosterone reacting to her proximity. But the look in his eyes when she’d pulled away – the desire – that had been real. There had been more to that than purely mechanical response. So what had happened? Why had he forced her away?

”Not now.” he’d said. ”Not this way.”

So, he didn’t want her on her terms. He didn’t want to be “fucked”. What did he want, then? If he didn’t want sex, if he didn’t want her body, what was it he expected?

”My desire goes deeper than that.”

He refused to be used and thrown away. He sought more. He sought…what? Friendship? He had that. Respect? He had that too. Something more. Something deeper.

”Look deeper, dammit.” His voice echoed in her mind, the look of desperation on his face as he tried to control his urges – as he tried to make her understand.

Dammit. There was nothing deeper. There was nothing to understand.

Then why was she so confused?

Paul. He simply didn’t make sense. Just when she thought she had him figured out; when all the pieces fell into place, he went and did something like this. They were friends, team-mates. Just when she was getting comfortable with that, the Devins mission revealed he wanted her. That he wanted more than friendship. And now, he didn’t want her? He plays the gallant gentleman and walks away, unwilling to accept being a toy?

Madeline sighed, rubbing her temples with her fingertips. Men. she thought, then immediately reneged it. Not men. Paul… She couldn’t figure him out.

And more confusing than his reactions were her own. She’d been jealous when Paul flirted with Antonia. Jealous to the point of distraction. In a hidden place in the back of her mind, she’d actually hoped to get the chance to return to the dance floor – to show Antonia what excellent dancers she and Paul were, to be able to fling herself into Paul’s arms and make Antonia jealous.

Bah! Madeline thought. Ridiculous!

Ridiculous, but true.

Even more true: she suddenly cared what he thought of her. She could see it in her recent behaviour. She’d been embarrassed during the debrief; there was no other word for it. Embarrassed that he’d seen her dressed down. She had worried that he would look down on her; that he would see her as no longer worthy of respect.

Why did his opinion suddenly matter? It had never mattered in the past; not on a personal level at any rate. No one’s had. But now? Now, she thought she heard disapproval in his voice; chastisement as he’d struggled against her in his quarters.

Why was he affecting her this way?

His voice reverberated in her head; the lilt of laughter over the comlink, the stern reproaches of less than an hour before. He’d told her to look deeper, he’d wanted her to understand.

But she couldn’t….there was something missing…

Again his voice urged her on. “The thing of it is, you want me too. Don’t you?”

Did she? Something gnawed at the back of her mind, the emotions and confusion of the past 36 hours pushing at her subconscious. Madeline buried her face in her hands, fighting back tears. Where had it all gone wrong? How had she let him in so deep? She had left herself vulnerable, far too exposed.

She was out of control.

More so than she’d been in eight long years.

*****

Paul sighed deeply and collapsed onto the couch. That woman frustrated the hell out of him.

When he’d decided to pursue Madeline, he’d known it wouldn’t be easy to win her heart. He’d known her reputation; he’d seen for himself the psychological and emotional distance she put between herself and others. But he’d wanted to get through to her; he’d wanted to succeed. He still did.

But there were times he wasn’t sure he would ever succeed. Times when her barriers seemed too strong, her determination too great. Times like tonight, when her behaviour confused the hell out of him. He'd expected her to overreact when she discovered his affection for her. It would have seemed like a betrayal of friendship to the most well- adjusted person; and Madeline was hardly well-adjusted. But for her to accost him in his quarters? To attempt to take advantage of his attraction? That was beyond anything he had ever imagined.

One thing he had always known about Madeline. One thing that made him feel “safe” in his pursuit of her was that she never took advantage of the men on her team the way she did other men in Section. She knew better; in some strange way she had a sense of honour where they were concerned.

What the hell had possessed her?

Maybe Walter had been right. She was incorrigible. It wasn’t a sense of honour on her part that had kept her from pursuing him sooner, but simply his apparent lack of interest. Now that she knew he was interested, now that she’d found a weakness, she would worry at it until she succeeded; until she brought his defences, and pants, down around his ankles.

“No,” he said aloud to the empty room, pushing himself further into the couch cushions in a vain attempt to relax. It was something else. It had to be. She respected him. She was not so dishonourable that she would throw aside that respect when she sensed “weakness”. So why had she confronted him? Why now? What had set her off?

The Devins mission. Something had changed perceptibly between them after the mission. Paul had sensed it, but brushed it off. He’d assumed Madeline was just upset about Adrian’s treatment of her during the debrief. But it had been more than that. Looking back, he realised her behaviour had changed even before they’d returned to Section.

She’d reacted strangely when he’d danced with Antonia. Generally, while he worked a target, she spoke to him over the com; giving him pointers and teasing him gently. It was her way of monitoring team members and providing support when needed. Only last night, her words had had a different edge. This time, she’d seemed upset by his behaviour; discouraging his flirtation rather than laughing with him at how easily the woman gave in to his charms.

The van ride home had also been silent and tense. She’d returned his coat to him as soon as they’d boarded, settling for a mission jacket that hung in the back corner of the van. She’d spent the remainder of the trip back to Section conferring with Martin about the data files; rejecting Paul’s offer of medical aid for the gash she’d received on the trellis. She’d seemed angry, but at the time, he had written it off – she was cold and tired, she’d get over it.

Apparently, she hadn’t. And apparently, there had been more to it than Paul had initially thought. The pieces fell into place quickly, and Paul stood, pacing his quarters from wall to wall as he worked out the details.

In hindsight, Madeline’s reaction to Antonia read like a classic example of jealousy. And if she was jealous of Antonia, that meant she had feelings for him; that she cared for him. Somehow, he had broken through…he’d gotten in under her skin.

The realisation, although spectacular, did nothing to solve his initial dilemma. In fact, it brought him right back to where he’d started: Why had she accosted him? If she cared for him, why was she treating him like she did all the others?

Why was she behaving as though he was the enemy?

Fear. The word entered his mind like a whisper and he knew immediately that it was true; he’d seen it in her eyes when he’d confronted her. Fear and confusion. She’d sensed his desire when they’d danced at the Devins’ estate, she realised her own when he’d flirted with his target, and she’d reacted the only way she knew how: take control.

It was all about control. Three years of observing Madeline had told him that. Faced with the unexpected, she moved immediately to put things back into perspective, to settle the situation as quickly as possible. The discovery of his feelings had been surprising, but not uncontrollable; the revelation of her own feelings for him had likely been devastating. Madeline simply didn’t react emotionally. Ever.

He could predict her train of thought from there: confront the fear, confront the feelings, settle the confusion. Take control…

And he’d pushed her away…he just hoped he hadn’t pushed too hard.

*****

Paul lay on his back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling of his quarters. Five-hundredfeet below the ground, in complete darkness and complete silence, and still, he couldn’t sleep. His mind wouldn’t let him.

He was worried.

Cursing to himself, he stood and began to pace the room, flipping on a table lamp as he did so. There would be no sleep tonight.

It had been almost four hours since Madeline left his quarters, and he couldn’t get her out of his mind. The realisation that he had indeed gotten under her skin, that she had feelings for him as well, should have brought a sense of elation. Instead, it increased his worry.

He didn’t want to lose her. He’d come so far; nurturing her friendship, gaining her trust. And she did trust him. Or she had… Now, she was hurt and confused, and he was the cause.

Dammit, he swore, running a hand through his hair. How could I have been so careless?

He’d been caught off guard – twice – and had allowed his feelings for her to take over. All he could hope for now was that the damage wasn’t permanent; that she wouldn’t close herself off completely and throw away all they had gained. He had never intended to confront her - not until the moment was right.

“Do you know what you’ve done to me?” Madeline’s voice rang through his quarters and Paul froze, convinced he was hearing things. The moment broke as quickly as it came. She stalked past him to stand on the far side of the room, crossing her arms over her chest. “Do you have any idea?”

He forced himself backwards, his heart hammering in his chest. Finally, he was able to lean against the arm of the couch for support. He could see what he’d done and he couldn’t bear the sight. Her eyes were red and bloodshot, the skin of her cheeks blotchy and streaked with tears. Although she fought for control, she was clearly agitated, more so than he had ever seen her. She remained on the far side of the room, her body language defensive; almost daring him to cross it. The temptation was great, but he resisted, knowing that any move on his part would cause her to bolt like a frightened animal.

“Why don’t you tell me,” he countered, sliding down onto the couch. With one hand he gestured towards the chair across from him., indicating that she should sit. She shot him a glare, straightening her back, and dropping her arms to her sides.

“Don’t patronise me,” she said quietly, her eyes narrowing. Her voice was dead calm, but her eyes blazed with anger. “You don’t know me. You can’t possibly understand.”

“Try me,” Paul said, leaning forward in his seat. His eyes met hers and he held her gaze, keeping his tone even, non-confrontational. “You may be surprised.”

“Surprised?” she scoffed, pulling her eyes away from his. She paced a few steps towards the chair before she began again, eyes facing the far wall. “I’ve had far too many surprises tonight. I don’t think I can take anymore….”

She paused again, and Paul could see she was trying to gain control. Her breathing was unsteady, her arms once again crossed on her chest. She turned back towards him, and his breath caught in his throat; her eyes were shining with tears once again. He opened his mouth to speak, but she stopped him. “Don’t,” she interrupted, emphasising the word with a shake of her head. “I can’t do this if you interrupt me. I need to do this. Do you understand me?”

Paul nodded, struggling to meet her gaze. He was becoming more worried by the minute. He had never seen her like this. She was actively avoiding his eye, pacing the area in front of the chair in slow, deliberate movements.

Taking a deep breath, she started to speak. “I have spent the better part of my life building barriers. The reasons don’t matter, not right now… but they’re there; they’re there for protection…” she stopped, taking a ragged breath. Straightening slightly, her posture became more determined. “You were in Vietnam…you’ve seen it. You’ve seen men close themselves off to others. You must have…”

She looked to him for confirmation, and he nodded. He had seen it. Men in his POW camp who kept themselves cut off. He’d understood it; at times, he’d practised it. It was their only defence against the pain; against the physical violence and the mental strain. But to put up such barriers long term; to live like that. Why?

“I’ve lived my life behind barriers. For so many years…“ Her voice trailed off. She paused for a moment, then continued, her tone soft. “They’re not quite the same I suppose…not exactly like the ones you would have witnessed. I simply don’t let people too close…anytime I have… Do you know what it’s like to know your mother doesn’t love you?”

She paused again, this time not truly expecting an answer. “ You couldn’t…could you? You had the ideal family life. Picture perfect…” She shook her head, clearly trying to detach herself from the memory. “I’ve perfected it you know….keeping people out. See, I’ve learned; I know what I can handle – I know when I have to walk away. So why can’t I walk away from you?”

“Dammit,” she swore, stopping her pacing to stand in front of him. “I know when to walk away. So why am I here?”

Their eyes met and Paul could see realisation dawn. She must have sensed it too, because she turned suddenly and walked to the other side of the room, once again putting distance between them. He looked down at the floor, sensing that his scrutiny was making her nervous. “It’s more than that…” she continued. “It’s more than keeping people distant. It’s emotion. That’s why I can’t let people in too close…it’s weakness. If I let people see what’s inside, then they have control over me. They can use it – they can use the pain….And even without that, simply letting them under my skin…It gives them control….manipulation…No. It never happens. No one gets under my skin.”

“No one until you.”

Paul looked up to find her gazing at him intensely, tears shining her in eyes. She looked defeated, lost. “Do you see what you’ve done?” she started again, her voice catching in her throat. “Everything I’ve worked for… Every barrier I’ve erected, the distance I’ve put between myself and others. You’ve slipped past. How is that possible? How did I lose control?”

“It’s not about control,” Paul said, and immediately regretted it. Her back straightened once more and the fierceness returned to her gaze.

“It’s always about control,” she hissed, stalking back across the room towards him. “Every moment in my life has been out of control. From the day my sister fell down that flight of stairs, to the day I awakened in Section One. If there was one thing I thought I had control over, one thing that was constant: it was my ability to know my own mind, my ability to maintain my distance, to keep my emotions in check. Dammit, Paul, I haven’t been this out of control in over eight years, I haven’t felt this helpless since that bastard raped me – do you know how that makes me feel?”

The silence was deafening. Madeline paled, tears now flowing freely down her cheeks. For a moment, she stared at him, paralysed, then turned away, attempting to retreat once more to the far side of the room. Paul stood, capturing one of her trembling hands in his before she could retreat any further. Gently, he turned her eyes towards his, startled by the fear he saw reflected in them. “Don’t be afraid,” he said, releasing her hand. He could see she was fighting the urge to bolt, her shoulders shaking with unspent sobs. As much as he wanted to comfort her, he stepped back, not wanting to push her any further. “Please stay.”

He sat back down on the couch, reaching out a hand to her. “Sit with me,” he said softly. Hesitating, Madeline studied his face. He could see the uncertainty in her eyes and smiled up at her, placing his hand back in his lap. “Please?” He asked gently, waiting for her to respond.

She walked slowly to the other end of the couch, seating herself stiffly on its edge. She’d put up a barrier again, but it was unsteady, waiting to come down. Her breath shuddered in her chest and she leaned back further, sitting tensed against the cushions.

“Tell me,” he prompted, shifting position to face her, but not sliding any closer. The next move was hers.

“I- “ Madeline began, staring down at her hands. “I was working for an escort service…it wasn’t much – it got me off the streets…I was naïve. I should have known…” she paused, a fresh stream of tears rolling down her face. She took a deep breath before continuing, the result a dull shudder. “My first night out…it was so beautiful…I felt like a queen. I hadn’t felt like that since I was a very small child… But it all went so wrong. So fast. I didn’t know I’d be expected…maybe if I’d known he wouldn’t have…”

“You don’t know what would have been. It wasn’t your fault. None of it, ” he said, sliding closer to take her hand in his. She rocked slowly as she spoke, her eyes focused forwards. He massaged her palm gently but the tears continued to flow.

“We were on our way home…in his limousine. Spencer’s limousine… I was just a kid…I’d never…He – “ She was sobbing openly now, the words coming out between choked sobs. She stopped rocking, turning to meet his eyes. “How could he?”

“I don’t know,” he replied, reaching out to caress her cheek, to wipe some of the tears away. It all made sense now. The way she used men, the way she had reacted to his own advances. One act of violence had shaped her life, had brought her to this point. Sex was a weapon; it had been used as one against her, and she used it against others – it was a matter of control. “I just don’t know…”

Madeline nodded and turned away again, looking across the room into the darkness. “When it was all over, he dropped me off – practically tossed me out of the limo. The pain was so bad…I couldn’t see straight, let alone walk… Someone carried me into the house…and when I woke up – it was like it never happened. They acted like nothing had happened. “

Her voice had become softer, so soft that Paul found it difficult to hear; but the last phrase stood out from the rest. It was laced with an almost childlike disbelief, and accompanied by a fresh stream of tears. He released her hand momentarily and shifted his position once more so he was seated by her side. Reaching out a hand, he turned her face towards him; allowing her to see the tears shining in his own eyes. “It wasn’t right,” he said, reading the unasked question in her eyes. “You didn’t deserve it.”

She stared back at him, her eyes wide. She was struggling for control again, focusing her breathing in an attempt to stop the flow of tears. She was trying hard, but failing. The tears continued to leave wet trials down her cheeks and Paul reached out to trace one, touching her face softly with the tips of his fingers. They sat silently for several long moments, his hand moving to caress her palm.

It was Madeline who finally broke the silence, shifting on the couch to face him completely. “I can’t feel like that again,“ she whispered, tears stilled, but body trembling against the emotion. “I won’t be helpless.”

Reaching out, Paul gathered her in his arms, pulling her gently against his chest. “You’ll never be helpless with me,” he murmured, stroking her back. She didn’t struggle, settling in against his chest, her arms wrapped around his back. Her body still trembled against his, and he could feel the warmth and moisture of fresh tears through his shirt. “Never.”

Leaning back against the couch cushions, Paul clasped his arms around her tighter, kissing her forehead gently. He held her for a long time, unwilling, and unable, to let go. Eventually, her breathing slowed, her grip loosening from around his back. Exhaustion had taken her; leading her into sleep. Paul moved his body into a more comfortable position beneath hers, resting his head on hers as he too slept.

*****

Madeline returned to consciousness slowly, unsure of her surroundings. A weight caressed her chest and shoulders, a heat radiating against her skin. Something rubbed at her back, a feather light touch that sent a shiver down her spine. Disoriented, she allowed her eyelids to flutter open, her arm reaching up to where her pillow would normally lay. Her eyes met with blackness, but her hand found a beating heart.

Huh? As her mind struggled to bring itself into focus, she shifted her weight, lifting her cheek from the body beneath her. Her hand slid up to find a shoulder and she used it for support, pushing herself away until she could see the face of the figure below her.

Paul.

The confessions of the previous night came back to her as she wriggled out of his arms, sitting up to meet his now opened eyes. “Good morning,” he said. His voice was still hoarse with sleep, at least an octave deeper than usual. Madeline watched as he stretched, catlike, on the couch. He looked absolutely contented, a smile lighting his face and eyes, his body relaxed against the cushions.

Frustrated, she turned away, feeling a blush creeping across her cheeks. It had felt so good to wake up in his arms, to feel the warmth of his body against her cheek and the weight of his arms around her. But it couldn’t continue. He couldn’t continue to affect her this way…

His hand moved to caress her cheek, and she flinched away, straining to remain seated by his side. Unconsciously, she brought her knees up under her chin, clasping her hands around them in a defensive posture. She stared at him for several moments, surprised to see the hurt in his eyes as she closed herself off once again. It was better this way. He didn’t want her, not really. He’d held her all night out of pity…that was all. When he remembered all she’d said, he’d walk away...

“I should go,” she said, releasing her legs and moving to stand.

He grabbed her hand before she could get to her feet. “Madeline,” he said, pulling her back down onto the couch. “Don’t walk away from this. I know you’re confused. I know you’re scared. But you need to trust me.”

She stared down at their hands silently for several moments before turning towards him. “I do trust you,” she whispered, meeting his eyes. The confession startled her. “And that’s what scares me.”

“I see.”

“Do you? Do you know that, until last night, I’d told no one what happened that night? I’d never cried about it, never let anyone see how much it hurt me? I’d never trusted anyone enough.”

“You’ve trusted me with your life for three years. Why won’t you trust me with more?”

“I don’t care about my life. Death can’t hurt me as much as you can. ”

Paul sighed, grasping her shoulders and physically turning her towards him. “You still don’t quite get it do you? You don’t trust me, or yourself, enough to see it. It’s not about sex. It’s not about control. It’s not about me making you feel helpless. Dammit, Madeline, I love you. Do you know what that means?”

Madeline stared at him in shocked silence, a dull shiver making its way up her spine. No. She didn’t know what it meant. She couldn’t think of a time when she’d ever known. The look in his eyes was unfamiliar; the tenderness of his touch against her cheek unknown. “How could I possibly know?”

“I love you,” he repeated, kissing her forehead gently. “When you enter a room, my heart flutters in my chest. When I awoke with you in my arms this morning, I felt like I was home. I can’t imagine my life without you.”

Madeline continued to stare at him, shock turning into confusion. No one had ever felt that way about her. To everyone, even her mother, she had been simply a feature in a larger world. Someone who could fade away, with no one giving her a passing thought. He couldn’t imagine his life without her? She couldn’t possibly be that important to him, to anyone.

“You’re being melodramatic,” she stated, creasing her brow into a frown. “I could die on a mission. Life would go on.”

“A part of mine would end. The most important part.” He sighed, leaning forward and staring out into the darkness. “You underestimate yourself, your effect on people…on me. You assume that people want nothing more from you than sex or power. I told you last night I wanted more; you didn’t see it then, do you see it clearer now?”

“I’m trying.”

“I don’t know how to make you see; to make you understand what it means to be ‘in love’.” He paused, looking towards her for a moment before returning to scan the darkness. “I want you to be part of my life, every moment of it. I want to fall asleep with you in my arms, and wake up to find you still there. I want you to know that I will always be there for you; that when your demons haunt you – I’ll be there to pick up the pieces. I want you to know you can trust me enough to share those demons, and know that I won’t hurt you. But it’s not one-sided. It’s reciprocal. Your fear is that I’ll get in too deep, I’ll learn too much about you and use it to hurt you. Right?”

Madeline nodded. That was part of it, but not all. Part of it was feeling too vulnerable. Not that anything specific would be used against her, but that letting him in would be enough to hurt her.

He shook his head in dismay and continued. “See, that’s not how it works. Although, I understand how you might think that. Reciprocity. Sure, I’ve gotten under your skin, but you’re also under mine. I’m in just as much danger of being hurt as you are. Part of love is accepting that risk; but also trusting the other not to hurt you.” He turned back towards her again, meeting her eyes fiercely. “This is where we’re hitting the road block, you and I. It’s a matter of trust. You’ve put up all those barriers, because you’re afraid to trust; because each time you’ve placed your trust in someone …you’ve been betrayed.”

“But you’ve let me through,” he continued, smiling gently at her. “This isn’t just about my feelings, Madeline. You admitted that yourself. You do trust me, at least to an extent. You wouldn’t be here if there wasn’t something more.”

“There isn’t anything deeper,” Madeline murmured, repeating her mantra from the night before. She could tell from his dubious expression that he didn’t believe her, and in truth, she didn’t believe it herself. Everything he’d described – the flutter of his heart when she entered a room, the desire to be with her. She’d felt the same for him; although she’d never realised it. She enjoyed his company, at times, she even sought it out. It had only become blatantly clear during the Devins mission – when she’d been confronted with the fact that her feelings were reciprocated.

“It’s there, isn’t it. You see it now?” Paul said, reaching out to take her hand.

She nodded. She felt it too. She finally understood. She loved him. But she felt something else as well. Never had she awoken in anyone’s arms feeling the way she’d felt in Paul’s. For the first time in nearly eighteen years, she’d felt safe.

But the gnawing was back, the feeling of being out of control. Taking a deep breath, Madeline stroked his hand gently. “To you it comes easily, Paul. To me it still feels like giving in, like I’m losing control.”

Paul smiled, and his smile brought her some degree of comfort. “Love isn’t something that’s about control, Madeline. I’m not expecting you to ‘give in’ to the emotions you’re feeling; that we’re feeling. But I want you to trust me, and to trust yourself enough to admit they’re there.”

“They’re there,” she said softly, closing her eyes momentarily against the emotions that were beginning to overwhelm her. When she opened them, Paul was kneeling on the floor in front of her, her hands clasped between both of his. She hadn’t realised she’d been trembling until he appeared before her; a rock against the wind.

“I love you,” he whispered once more, standing and drawing her up into his arms. He held her tightly against his chest until her trembling calmed, stroking her back lightly with one hand. “Just trust me.”

“I’ll try,” she said against his chest, wrapping her arms around his back and holding him just as tightly. “I’ll try…”

“That’s all I ask…”

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