Title:      Poiche Li Amo
Author:     Mortis
Rating:     NC-17 for sex
Category:   K/other smut
Spoilers:   thru the end of season 5
Disclaimer: Krycek isn't mine as much as I wish he was.  Marley   
            is. I'm not making a dime off either of them.

Thanks to:  Kim and Nancy for all their encouragement. 



Poiche Li Amo
by Mortis

The rain poured as I stepped through the door.  At first, I could 
see nothing as my eyes adjusted to the darkness, but as the sound 
of soft raunchy blues caressed my ears, I immediately knew that he 
had chosen a bar for the drop.  

My eyes adapted slowly.  It was an older place with the heavy wood 
from floor to ceiling that harkened to another era.  A large 
ornate bar completely took up one wall of the room, which was not 
large and only sparsely occupied.  Several secluded booths lined 
the remaining walls and about four small tables were set up 
between the booths and the bar.  

I made a quick sweep of the place and counted six individuals.  
Behind the bar was a very brawny man of about 65 who looked like a 
retired cop.  A waitress leaned disinterestedly on the bar and a 
middle-aged couple sat eating at one of the small tables.  I 
spotted him, sitting in a booth engaged in a rather heated 
discussion with a man with a prominent nose.  

I made my way toward the bar.  They both looked up as I passed and 
I saw his eyes slither over my body starting with my legs, slowly 
working their way up.  I was suddenly very aware of myself.  I had 
removed my leather jacket and the white silk blouse I wore under 
it was soaked, clingy and nearly translucent.  When they finally 
reached mine, I saw the familiar dark malachite eyes and the fire 
behind them heated something inside me that I thought I had put to 
sleep long ago.  I tore my eyes away and scurried into the ladies 
room.

I went to work with a paper towel taking a few hopeless swipes at 
my hair.  I unbraided it and shook it out in a shower of damp 
burgundy curls over my shoulders.  I found one of those push 
button dryers and took off the wet silk.  In its present state, it 
was worse than being naked, especially since I wore no bra.  The 
heated air helped and it was quickly dry enough to wear.  I let it 
do a round on my hair, replaced the blouse and then fixed my face 
as best as I could.  Finally, I felt a bit more put together and 
headed back for the bar.  

The man with whom he had spoken was gone and the couple was making 
leaving motions as well.  As I reached the bar and sat down, he 
slid onto the barstool next to me.  "The cock crowed at midnight," 
he said in a stage whisper.

"Krycek, what the fuck are you talking about?" I asked, my lips 
curling into an involuntary smile.

"Oh, I don’t know," he said grinning, slipping his arm around my 
waist and bussing me on the mouth in greeting, "I just thought it 
sounded like a proper spy greeting."  He laughed.  He had a deep, 
throaty laugh that always made me quiver inside.  "How have you 
been, Marley?" he asked signaling to the bartender who stood at 
the opposite end of the bar totally engrossed in some game or 
other on the television that hung above it. A waitress stood 
counting crinkled bills and change, ignoring it, him and us.

The bartender ambled down to our end of the bar. "Yeah," he asked 
pleasantly, "what can I get for you folks?"

I ordered my usual Southern Comfort and Alexei his vodka martini 
and we discretely headed for the most secluded of the booths at 
the back of the bar in a darkened corner.  I slid into the booth 
with my back to the wall and a clear view of the bar.  He scooted 
in, pressing close against me.  His left hand cupped the back of 
my head and pulled me in for a deep kiss.  He took his other hand 
and slid it slowly over my knee and up between my thighs, pulling 
my Beretta 9mm from its holster strapped to the left one.  "Okay, 
I’m armed," I admitted evenly, "but I noticed you are as well."

He removed his hand from my neck, holding it above the table and 
flexing his fingers.  "Transplant technology’s come a long way, in 
America, hasn't it?" he mused, obviously pleased to be a whole man 
again.  He dropped my weapon into my open handbag and slipped his 
restored arm back around my shoulder.  "I’ll show you mine, if you 
like," he leered and pulled back his leather jacket enough for me 
to see his own weapon in its shoulder holster.  

Over the years, we’d grown to trust each other with the unspoken 
agreement that any move that proved false would be met by 
immediate and deadly force.  We were rats, Alexei and I, scurrying 
through the underworld with only our own wits to watch our backs.  
Each working for the same cause, but with different reasons.  

He nibbled at the flesh between my ear and shoulder as I dug the 
small plastic case out of my purse.  I deposited it in the inside 
pocket of the leather jacket that he wore and turned my head to 
meet his kiss.  It was long and deep and very passionate.  "Our 
business here is done," I breathed into his ear as I broke the 
kiss.  "I should go."

He pulled me closer by burying his hands in my hair and tugging, 
using it to tilt my head back.  "I know," he said as his lips 
brushed my throat and down across my collar bone, "I also know 
that you don’t have anywhere to be in the next 48 hours."

"How do you know I don’t have someone to do in the next 48 hours, 
you arrogant fuck?" I snapped, irritated because he was absolutely 
right.

"Mia cara," he chuckled, delighted to have gotten under my skin, 
"I’m in the information business.  But, as it happens, I don’t 
have any plans for the next couple of days either."  He caressed 
my hair and face with barely restrained desire.  "Come on, 
Marley," he pled softly, "let’s go pad our expense accounts, huh?"


"You know I can never refuse you, don’t you?" I said with 
resignation and a nip at his earlobe.

He dropped a couple of bucks on the table and downed his martini.  
I did the same with my drink and we headed straight for the back 
door of the bar and the hotel that abutted an alley in common.  I 
made a soggy dash for my car to retrieve the weekend bag out of 
which I lived, while he did the same and we met again in the 
lobby. 

*~*~*

Krycek tipped the concierge to take our bags to a room, it would 
seem he’d already procured.  "I’m hungry," he announced as he 
wrapped his arm around my waist and guided me to the dining room.  

"Good evening, Mr. Grayson," the maitre ‘d greeted him as we 
entered, "Your table is ready."  He led us to a private table 
waiting for Alex’s nod of approval before leaving us in the hands 
of a very stiff waiter who decanted a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon 
that was older than he was.  Then we were alone.

"You had this planned all along, didn’t you?" I accused, unable to 
hide my pleasure.

"I did," he admitted as he took a sip of his wine.  His eyes 
sparkled with mirth at my conflicted feelings.  On the one hand, 
it was very presumptuous and arrogant but on the other, how very 
romantic and spontaneous. How very Alexei.  Something in the back 
of my mind whispered, "Trust no one," but my desire for him 
screamed louder and I decided to let myself be seduced.

The table was a rounded booth situated in a niche isolated from 
the other diners by a curtained doorway which the waiter had 
closed unobtrusively behind him.  He sat very close, nearly facing 
me, his left arm rested on the back of the seat behind me while 
his fingers danced through my hair and stroked my neck sending 
bolts of lightning down my spine to settle, sparking, between my 
legs.  

His right hand toyed absently with his wine glass automatically 
lifting it from time to time to his lips.  His eyes burned into 
mine as he asked me to recount my latest brush with death, but the 
brush of his fingertips against my jaw and along my cheek made it 
hard for me to concentrate on the tale.  He leaned in and captured 
my lips with his, and wrapping his arms around me, pulled me 
firmly astride his thighs and into his lap.

His lips dipped to my cleavage, kissing the rise of first one 
breast, then the other. Strong arms wrapped around my lower back 
as his hands kneaded my ass and pulled me in tight against his 
burgeoning erection. I could only surrender as I fisted my hands 
in his hair. I kissed the top of his head, pulling his mouth more 
firmly against my breast, and breathed in his spicy, musky scent. 

His hands released my ass and slid around and up my thighs, under 
my skirt which had ridden up when he'd pulled me onto his lap. I 
reached down to grip his wrists, remembering - albeit only vaguely 
- that we were ostensibly still in publlic in spite of the 
curtained alcove.  He twisted his arms, loosing my grip and placed 
my hands firmly on his shoulders and replaced his own hands on my 
thighs. Up they slid until his thumbs encountered my silk covered 
curls.  He hooked his thumbs into the thin silk and pulled 
sharply.  I gasped as the material gave easily and I found myself 
completely exposed to him.  He lifted my tattered panties and 
brushed them against his cheek before slipping them into the 
pocket of his leather jacket. 

Replacing his hands on my thighs, he again, stroked them upward 
and I couldn't contain a moan as his thumbs bumped against my sex 
again, this time meeting no barrier.  He parted the lips gently 
and sought out my clit, rubbing briefly over the hard nubbin. My 
head fell back and my mouth fell open as I became powerless to 
stop him from doing anything he pleased.  His finger dipped 
between the lips finding me already soaking wet and plunged into 
me, causing my muscles to involuntarily clench around him.

At just that moment, the curtain parted and the stuffy waiter 
reappeared with another equally stuffy man both bearing trays 
filled with food.  Alex discreetly slid his hand away and I 
climbed off his lap, wishing that I had boiling oil propped over 
the curtained doorway. I had to hand it to the guy though, he 
never once let on that anything out of the ordinary had been going 
on.  He and his stiff companion laid out an impressive repast on 
the table and after decanting another bottle of wine, left us to 
our own devices again.

We feasted. Alex tore a piece of pheasant from the bone and 
proffered it with his fingers.  The gamy flavor of the dark, rich 
meat flooded my mouth as I bit through the tender flesh.  I fed 
him a mushroom cap stuffed with a nutty pate by the same method.  
I watched in rapt fascination as the muscles of his chiseled jaw 
worked and jumped and marveled at the fluid motion of his throat 
when he swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down.  I took 
another sip from my wine and contemplated fucking him right there 
on the table.  

*~*~*

The stodgy waiter came back with a devilish looking dessert 
covered in hot caramel and fudge.  As he sat it on the table 
before us, I lifted Alex's left hand and began to gently suck the 
pheasant gravy from the tips of his fingers.  "We'll take that to 
go, Jeeves," he said, smiling wickedly at me.  His other hand 
closed like lightning on my wrist and he was suddenly standing, 
pulling me to my feet beside him.  "Send it round to the Honeymoon 
Suite.  On second thought," he smiled wickedly, "we'd rather not 
be disturbed." He picked up the footed silver dish in which the 
dessert had been served and tugged me after him as he swept us 
toward the elevator.

Alex pressed the button for the penthouse suite - the bridal 
suite.  Whatever had possessed him to procure that particular 
room, eluded me.  But it was fun to pretend.  Before the doors had 
even closed on us, he was backing me into the corner of the 
mirrored chamber, wrapping his free arm around me.  He lifted and 
pinned me to the wall with a deep, wet kiss.  My legs wrapped 
around his hips of their own volition and his hand dropped to 
support my now bare ass. I could feel his cock, rock hard, beneath 
his jeans and ground into him, satisfied at last to hear *him* 
moan in reaction.  All too soon the bell dinged and he reluctantly 
released me.

We practically ran down the hallway, giggling like the newlywed 
couple we appeared to be as Alex nearly dropped the dessert while 
wrestling the cardkey out of his pocket. He handed the card to me 
and I swiped it through the reader, twisting the handle as I heard 
it click.  He swept me up again in his free arm and carried me 
across the threshold. He deposited me on my feet, the dish on the 
table and shrugged out of his jacket.  He moved swiftly toward me 
and began to unbutton my blouse, his lips on my throat. 

"God, Marley.  How do you do this to me?" he asked placing my hand 
on his erection.

I squeezed gently eliciting another moan from him as he thrust 
himself more fully into my hand. He had quickly removed my blouse 
and skirt so that I stood completely naked before him.  I had 
divested him of his shirt and popped the first couple of buttons 
on his Levis when he maneuvered me backward until my knees came up 
against the mattress.  He pushed me backward while gently easing 
me to the bed, and breathlessly breaking his kiss, turned to the 
table to retrieve the confection that he'd toted upstairs.  

He stood over me and tilted the dish.  I squealed as the first bit 
of warm caramel/chocolate goo and cold, melted ice cream drizzled 
across my breasts and over my belly down to my curls.  "Oops," he 
grinned, "I've made a mess.  Here, let me get that for you."

His lips dipped to my navel and his tongue made a wide swath 
around it and over the gooey mess.  I could feel the heat building 
low in my belly as he cleaned my stomach and made his way to my 
breasts. His tongue circled the entire breast bathing it, his lips 
and perfect teeth teasing my nipples one at a time as he sucked 
the mixture from them.  

Once they were clean, he retraced his path down my belly, each 
kiss dipping lower and lower as his hands parted my thighs to 
admit him between them. His lips brushed over my hipbones causing 
me to squirm in delight then down over my hips to my inner thighs, 
nipping and kissing all the while.  

Suddenly, his tongue darted in to tickle my clit and I nearly 
exploded. He did it again, licking a wide swath through my center. 
I think I moaned something exceedingly intelligent like, "Oh God, 
Alex!" as he placed his hands under my ass and lifted me so that I 
was poised on his fingertips, my world balanced on his tongue and 
at his mercy. 

La petite mort the French call it, "the little death." My thighs 
trembled as he tipped me over the edge into the abyss and wave 
upon wave of pleasure washed over me.  I could see his smug smile 
as I cried out in spite of myself while every muscle in my body 
convulsed and I came and came. After my body had gone limp, he 
lowered me gently to the bed and crawled up to lay behind me, 
enfolding me in his strong arms.

*~*~*

His erection strained against his pants as I wiggled against him. 
He moaned and thrust against me in return. I turned to face him, 
his bare chest warm and hard against my breasts.  His arm snaked 
between the bed and my ribcage, hugging me firmly against him. He 
rolled over onto his back pulling me on top of him.  I planted a 
soft open-mouthed kiss on his lips and drawing my knees up, sat up 
as his hands came up to encircle my waist. His hands stroked up my 
ribs, his fingertips brushing the underside of my breasts and then 
down my sides and over my hips to caress my behind and back again.  

I captured his wrists and, sitting astride him, pinned them over 
his head.  My hands slid down his arms and over his smooth, 
muscular chest. He kept his arms up in silent surrender to my will 
as my hands continued their exploration down over his rippled 
stomach to trace the dark strip of hair just below his navel that 
disappeared into his jeans.  I undid the last few buttons and 
tugged the denim over his hips and off, throwing them over my 
shoulder to the floor.  

He wore no underwear and his cock sprang proudly upward, swaying 
with each beat of his heart.  I leaned over him and retrieved the 
dessert dish from the night stand. Deep in a pool of melted ice 
cream, was what was left of the cooling fudge and caramel. I ran 
my finger around the edge of the dish, dipping it deeply into the 
sweet syrupy stuff.  Twisting to catch the last drip, I pulled out 
a generous amount on my finger and proceeded to paint his cock 
with it.

He watched silently, but his breathing sped up and deepened. His 
rigid cock danced and twitched as I bathed it with my tongue.  I 
took him into my mouth, opened my throat and swallowed the length 
of his shaft.  His eyes rolled back into his head, his jaw went 
slack as his hands fisted in my hair and he issued a moan that 
sounded very much like the Russian word for "mercy".  He was as 
hard as marble as he dragged me upwards, toward his mouth.

Alex rolled over, dragging my hands over my head as I had done to 
him earlier. The length of his body lay stretched atop mine, his 
knees slid in between my thighs, spreading them, and I could feel 
him nudging against my opening, demanding entrance.  I was wet and 
slippery as a boiled egg when he pushed and the head of his cock 
slipped inside me. He eased the rest of the way in, slowly 
stretching my passageway with his girth, filling me up.  A 
guttural snarl escaped my lips.  I brought my legs up and 
encircled his hips pulling him violently inside me, "Fuck me hard, 
Alexei!"

He answered with his own growl and slammed his hips into me 
forcefully. "You like it rough, baby?" he crooned into my ear as 
he pinned me down.  His powerful thrusts propelled me forward and 
my head came in contact with the pillow padded wall.  His mouth 
sought mine and came down in a brutally passionate kiss. 

I tottered on the edge of the abyss, my hands buried in his hair.  
His lips broke their bruising kiss as he came up for air and I 
moaned for him to join me, to come with me.  With an incoherent 
groan, his cock twitched as he spilled into me.  The rhythmic 
spurt hit my womb, sending me over the edge to scream his name as 
our bodies convulsed, clinging to each other in shared orgasm.

As our panting subsided, he rolled over onto his side, propped up 
on his elbow and looked into my eyes.  "Ah Marley," he crooned, 
"you have any idea how much I love you?"

My breath caught in my throat and my heart swelled before it 
broke. How I had wanted to hear those words from him, but I *knew* 
him.  I knew better. I didn't dare fall in love with him.  I took 
his face gently in my hands, stroking his perfect, full bottom lip 
with my thumb, and stared deep into his eyes.  God, how I wanted 
to believe him.  I swallowed hard, fighting back the tears that 
threatened to break through and betray my jaded exterior.

"Alexei," I began, "I was born in a refugee camp.  I grew up 
there.  It was dirty; it was dangerous; and I didn't survive it by 
believing in big dreams and beautiful lies. I survived by being 
the most treacherous piece of work that ever slit a throat over a 
hunk a cheese. Suffice it to say, I know when I'm being played. 
What is it that you want?" 

"Right now, all I want is you," he said simply. He kissed me 
again, "We'll get to business later. Right now, this is personal 
time. You know, the bridal suite has a Jacuzzi..." He cocked an 
eyebrow over a leer that wasn't entirely playful.

He rose, gracefully as a jungle cat, from the bed and disappeared 
into the bathroom.  Soon I heard the sound of running water and a 
warm, mellow light poured out with the steam. "Come on, baby," he 
called, "the water is just right."  Then I heard the sound of the 
jets. I forced myself to stand on my still shaky legs, and moved 
toward the bathroom.  

*~*~*

A dozen candles blazed in the room filling it with their warm 
glow.  And there in the deep sunken tub sat my golden Adonis, 
glistening as the flames illuminated each muscle of his chest, 
accentuating it.  I stepped down and eased into the delightfully 
hot water, facing him. The water surged and bubbled around us and 
I felt myself begin to relax.

A bottle of fine champagne rested in a silver ice bucket along 
with two glasses. Alex popped the cork and filled them, handing me 
one.  He took a sip, sat his glass on the floor tile that 
surrounded the sunken tub and leaned forward.  Seizing me about 
the waist, he pulled me closer until my legs rested over his and I 
was sitting on my knees astride him. His hands slid, in a smooth, 
firm motion, up my back and over my shoulder blades. The result 
was a delicious massage and I surrendered to it willingly.

His fingers moved expertly, sensually up the back of my neck and 
into my hair, massaging my scalp.  I leaned my head backwards, 
letting him take the weight of my head and I felt his lips softly 
kissing my extended throat.  His kisses softly traced my 
collarbone and came back up my neck to that spot just behind and 
below my ear that he *knew* drove me wild. I could feel his cock 
beginning to stir as I moaned and wiggled against him. "I *do* 
love you, Marley," he breathed in my ear as his one hand dropped 
to cup my ass and pull me tighter against him. "I know you don't 
trust me, yet you continue to keep me as your only lover."

The water swirled and churned around us as he kneaded my buttocks 
with one hand and fisted the other in my hair, holding my head 
steady as his lips dipped down my neck again and lingering at the 
hollow in the center of my throat, asked, "Why is that, Marley?" I 
thrust my chest upward, hoping that he would find my breasts as 
intriguing.  And as if reading my mind, his mouth sank lower and 
his kisses covered my breasts, lingering first at one nipple, then 
the other.

He was the best lover I'd ever had.  I had to admit that to myself 
as he continued to pleasure me, as if I were telling him where I 
wanted to be touched and how. I idly wondered if he was entirely 
human when he seemed to display the telepathic traits of the alien 
colonists. I was amazed when I felt his cock stir beneath me and I 
ground my hips in a seductive, slow circular motion. Maybe not 
alien, but definitely superhuman, I thought to myself.

I rocked slowly forward and back, trailing my hands through his 
hair as he continued to kiss my breasts, only both hands now 
squeezed my ass, with a rhythm that encouraged me to continue 
rocking. I lifted slightly and tilted forward adjusting myself to 
the angle of his now turgid flesh until he was poised at my 
entrance.  

I brought my lips to his ear and whispered, "Perche, Alexei?  
Poiche li amo," and with my confession, I knew I had doomed my 
heart.  I closed my eyes and impaled myself on his throbbing cock. 
He again stretched me to my limit as I enveloped him.  

A low growl emitted from deep within his chest when I slowly 
lifted and sank again, my inner muscles rhythmically contracting 
around him.  He emitted another animalistic snarl and his hands 
were around my waist pulling me down. I grasped his hands and 
raised my arms pushing backwards.  He had no choice but to bend 
his arms and I held his hands immobile behind his neck as I again 
buried him deep inside me.  His hips bucked beneath me.  This time 
it was I who moaned as I repeated my motions, gripping him firmly 
inside me as I pumped up and down, my thighs beginning to shake.  

We were both on fire as I rode him harder, faster.  The water 
sloshed over the sides of the tub as he bucked under me, lifting 
me out of the water with the force of his thrusts. His last 
violent, upward surge tipped me over the edge and my core spasmed 
in ecstasy.  His hands sought my face and clamping them around my 
head, pulled me to his lips.  His tongue plunged into my mouth in 
a kiss that threatened to possess my very soul if I surrendered to 
it.  And surrender I did, willingly, as he held me and spilled 
into me, joining me in blissful oblivion.

Later, when the water had cooled, we quit the tub.  After drying 
each other with enormous, soft towels, we climbed naked, exhausted 
and sated into the large soft bed to fall blissfully asleep in a 
comfortable tangle of limbs.

*~*~*

The laser-drill whined in my ear and a white hot pain lanced 
through my head. I tried to move, but found my head, arms and legs 
bound, totally restrained.  The light was in my eyes and I 
couldn't see them, but I could hear the rustling and murmuring 
that belied their presence.  I could hear them in my head, 
thousands of voices blending to make an unbearable din.  A keening 
whimper escaped as I begged, in vain, for the torture to stop.

Alex's hand stroked my hair as he held me and gently shook me 
awake, "Shh, Marley, it's okay, baby. You're safe. Shh, shh, shh, 
I've got you." 

I struggled for a second before remembering where I was, and with 
whom. I searched his eyes and saw profound empathy, a compassion 
born of shared suffering. At that moment, I could almost let 
myself believe that he truly loved me.  But, in our line of work, 
falling in love is a disastrous career move that often leads to 
literal termination. 

He placed soft kisses on my eyelids, my cheeks, my forehead, and 
cooed reassuring sounds into my hair.  Comforted by his 
ministrations and feeling luxuriously safe, I snuggled deeper into 
his arms and considered surrendering to the somnolence that 
beckoned me back to its warm embrace. 

His fingers brushed across my temple, smoothing my hair back from 
my face and his feathery kisses reached my mouth. My lips parted 
as his tongue slid between them, eagerly searching out mine. The 
kiss intensified and he rolled me onto my back, his fierce 
erection pressing against my naked thigh.  He lay pressed firmly 
against me, bare flesh to bare flesh and I felt his heart beating 
fast against mine.

I lifted my legs, encircling his waist. I was spread wide and he 
took full advantage of the opening. He shifted, moving his 
engorged member to my center, and entered me with a slow 
deliberateness that bespoke tantric control.  His gentle kisses 
continued down my throat and along my collar bone, slow and soft 
back up my shoulder to just below my ear.

He began to move slowly, pulling nearly free of my nether embrace 
and once again plunging leisurely back to the hilt. He raised up 
onto his hands, lifting his weight off me and gazed deeply into my 
eyes as he fucked me slow and well.  


My hands slid appreciatively over his body.  I cupped and squeezed 
his firm, muscular ass, encouraging the slow grinding of his hips.  
I stroked my hands over as much of his thighs as I could reach and 
back up over his behind to his lower back. I touched him 
shamelessly, appreciating the fine details of his physique with 
the abandon of the blind.

Next was his broad upper back, my hands pausing to properly 
worship every inch of it.  I lightly raked my fingernails up over 
his shoulders, eliciting a shiver and another passionate kiss. 
Then my fingers danced up the back of his neck, lightly touching 
the small scar there.  I had one just like it, we all did. Then I 
moved up and plunged my hands into the soft thickness of his hair.

*~*~*


My fingers danced lightly across his beautifully angular face, 
tracing his jaw line tenderly.  He kissed my fingertips as they 
stroked across his lips.  I afforded myself a long, lingering look 
into his eyes and then moved on, down his collarbones.  I teased 
his nipples to hard nubs, then glided my hands across the rest of 
his chest which now glistened with sweat from his exertions.

I could see the supreme effort that he was exercising not to slam 
into me hard and fast and I could feel my own orgasm building 
within.  I reached up and dragged his head down, bringing his lips 
to mine, and kissed him fiercely. "Oh, Alex," I gasped as I 
reluctantly released his lips, "I love you.  God help me, I do." 
And I thrust my hips up hard, rising to meet his gentle stroke 
with insistent force.  Instantly comprehending my need, he picked 
up his pace.  

I couldn't contain my cries as the pleasure built in a great 
crescendo up my spine and into the pit of my quivering stomach.  
His moans became a steady hum as his strokes came harder and 
faster.  His hands gripped my hips so tightly that I would surely 
bear ten small bruises in the pattern of his fingers as he plunged 
into me again and again. 

It was as if his orgasm was small fish wriggling deep inside me 
and he was working to spear it. I felt his cock twitch and a 
gentle wave broke over me in a warm wash of pleasure. I buried my 
face in his neck, my open lips on his throat in a salty kiss as my 
orgasm peaked.  He collapsed beside me, both of us panting and 
sated.  I snuggled against him, lay my head on his chest and 
listened to his heartbeat return to normal.

Long moments later, he spoke.  

"Marley?" he began, his voice rumbling deep in his chest, tickling 
my ears.

"Mmmmm?" I mumbled, placing a lazy kiss on his stomach, next to 
where my head lay.

"Do you skate?" he asked.

"Skate?" I responded brilliantly with a small mirthful snort, the 
question catching me completely by surprise.

"Yeah, skate," he responded with that cocky smile of his that I 
heard rather than saw, "you know...ice, blades, music.  Skate."

"Yeah, I know what skating is," I said, jabbing him playfully in 
the ribs. "Why do you ask?"

"Do I need a reason?" he countered innocently, but his eyes gave 
off an impish glint.

"No," I admitted, "but you usually have one. In answer to your 
question, yes, in fact, I can skate."  

"How about a trip to Rockefeller Center?" he asked with a roguish 
smile.  He had a reason, alright.  

"I have to assume that your motives run deeper than a desire to 
put me in a situation where I might be likely to fall into your 
arms so you can grope me in public," I speculated. 

"That's a great idea, but I somehow doubt that you need me to 
catch you," he said simply. "But, if you give me the opportunity, 
I most certainly will." He finished with the most devilish look 
and I considered instigating a second round.  

"Come on," he said, looking surreptitiously at his watch, "we can 
grab something to eat on the way."  He quirked an eyebrow in a 
well-practiced leer, "I seem to be famished for some reason and I 
really need to keep up my strength."  The comment was followed by 
a wink as he bussed me soundly and rose, gloriously naked, from 
the bed.  He walked to his duffle which was spilling out across 
one of two wing-backed arm chairs situated on either side of a 
table in the corner and began dressing.  

I grabbed my duffle and retreated to the bathroom.  I completed my 
morning ablutions quickly and pulled on jeans and a casual 
sweater.  I quickly secured my long hair in its customary braid 
and pulled on a pair of comfortable running shoes.  I smoothed on 
a thin layer of moisturizer with sunscreen but applied no make-up.  

Looking and feeling fresh, I exited the bathroom to find Alex 
replacing a Palm Pilot in his bag and checking his watch again.  
He was dressed in a dark green Henley with a thermal t-shirt 
underneath, the sleeves pushed up to his elbows revealing the 
silky dark hair on his forearms. He also wore jeans, but rather 
than tennis shoes, he wore a pair of well-worn combat boots. 

As if sensing my presence, he turned when I entered the room.  I 
watched his eye sweep me with an unabashed assessment.  Apparently 
I passed inspection, because he grabbed my leather jacket off the 
other chair where it had been tossed at some point the night 
before, and helped me into it.  Then grabbing his own jacket, he 
held the door for me.  "After you," he said smoothly with a small 
bow.  As I passed, he patted my behind.  "'Wholesome' suits you," 
he said softly as he followed me out into the hallway and let the 
door shut behind him.

*~*~*

My nose was frozen and I wished that I had a scarf for my ears and 
neck.  I had completed my third lazy circuit around the rink and I 
was starting to worry.  Alex had been covertly checking his watch 
every twenty minutes since we stopped at the bakery for croissants 
and coffee, and he'd been gone just long enough to make all the 
alarms go off in my head.  I carefully scanned the perimeter as I 
skated toward the opening in the plexiglas retaining wall that 
surrounded the ice.  I saw Alex disappear at the isolated end of a 
long row of lockers that radiated out from the ice like spokes on 
a bicycle tire.  

I made my way to one of the lacquered wooden benches, sat down and 
began to unlace my skates.  Once free of them, I slid my feet into 
my shoes and headed in the general direction of where I'd last 
seen him.  It felt as if I were walking several inches above the 
ground as my feet acclimated to being out of the skates, making 
each step awkward for a few moments. The area was deeply deserted 
and I attuned my senses to Alex.

Out of long habit, I moved silently and soon heard his voice drift 
softly to me from somewhere ahead of me to the left.  "...we had a 
deal, now where the fuck is my merchandise?"

A male voice answered, "I know that was the plan, but a former 
employer of yours is offering a sizable bounty on your head - dead 
or alive.  Now, I figure that I can collect the bounty on you dead 
a lot easier than alive, and I get to keep the money you brought 
me for this disk."  

I had reached the end of the bank of lockers and saw a short, 
blonde man pointing a gun at Alex with his right hand while he 
waved a small CD in his left. The blonde man's back was to me as I 
soundlessly closed the distance between us.  Alex's eyes made 
transitory contact with mine conveying his understanding of my 
intentions and his readiness to back me, without alerting the 
perfidious little grifter to my presence. 

My body tensed, preparing for battle, waiting to see what his next 
move would be.  I saw his thumb move to the hammer, making ready 
to cock it.  That was all the display of intent that I needed. I 
poised my hands and in a single swift motion, grabbed his left ear 
with my right hand and his right ear with my left hand and twisted 
hard.  A distinct crunching announced the breaking bones.  His 
eyes went wide with surprise.  A soft gurgling sound accompanied 
his last exhale and his body went limp, collapsing even as I held 
his head in my hands.  

Alex sprang forward, helping me to support the man's body as it 
began to slump to the floor.  Together we maneuvered him into one 
of a long row of plastic seats that ran the length of the bank of 
lockers. I snatched the disk from his hand as Alex rifled his 
pockets and came away with a gold money clip fat with bills and 
stuffed it into his own pocket.  A uniformed security guard passed 
the aisle formed by the lockers at the far end from where we stood 
and we knew that we didn't have much time before the body was 
discovered.

We moved two spokes in the opposite direction as the guard and 
moved up that aisle toward the ice again.  We collected our skates 
and headed for the counter to return them, lazy arms around each 
other.  Once there, we stood waiting as the clerk counted out 
money into Alex's hand, returning his deposit minus the cost of 
the rentals.  A commotion rose in the general direction of our 
last location and we knew that the body had been found.  The 
clerk, his task complete paid no attention to either of us.  He 
was far more interested in the hullabaloo that we had created.  
Slipping the money into his pocket, Alex thanked him quietly and 
wrapped his arm around me.  He guided me unhurriedly toward the 
door as the rest of the place moved in the other direction to 
confirm the rumor of a corpse that was spreading like wildfire.  
We left the rink unnoticed at a leisurely pace and hailed a cab 
right outside the door.

"And you were going to let me in on this... when?" I asked with a 
quirk of an eyebrow once we were safely on the road. 

For a moment, Alex looked for all the world like a small boy who'd 
been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.  He regained his 
composure quickly, then he flashed me the devil's own smile and 
said cannily, "Marley, Marley, I always intended to cut you in."

"Oh, but of course you did dear," I said snidely, thoroughly 
pissed off. "That's why you invited me, right?  You wanted to 
share what that man had to give you?  Well Alex, he nearly gave 
you the business end of a silenced 9mm.  If you plan on 'sharing' 
shit like that in the future, I must insist that you alert me in 
advance."  I turned to face the window, effectively shutting him 
out, mentally kicking myself for letting my emotional guard down.

He placed a hand on my shoulder, gently turning me to face him. 
"Marley, I'm sorry," he said sincerely.  "You know my solitary 
nature."  He released my shoulder and spread his hands in front of 
him as if to say, "This is who I am.  I can be no other."  
Instead, he looked out the window and said, "Right here, driver."

Alex paid the driver with the bills he'd taken from his potential 
assassin.  We quit the vehicle and walked about three completely 
deserted blocks where Alex hailed another cab.  He handed me 
inside the car, patting my ass in passing, then climbed in behind 
me.  

After giving the driver the name of our hotel, he leaned back in 
the seat and scrutinized me with shrewd eyes as if accessing my 
deepest thoughts and feelings with preternatural vision.  A part 
of me wondered if he might actually be able to do it and I clamped 
down on the panicky feeling that thought had aroused.  

"Alright, Alex," I steeled my gaze and demanded, "I want the 
details.  Now."

For the remaining journey, he proceeded to fill me in on as much 
as he knew.  The disk we'd just procured was a password decryption 
program intended to gain entry into the personal laptop of one 
Kendall J. Parker, PhD.  Judging from his photo, he seemed a 
bookish looking man of about 40.  Apparently Parker worked in R&D 
for a low-profile biotechnology company with classified 
shareholders and some unnervingly advanced science.  Someone 
wanted specific files and was willing to pay quite well, if what 
Alex told me was true.

The other boot dropped when we got back to the hotel.

"Marley, I can't get close to him like you can."  He dropped his 
eyes and his meaning became clear. "He will be attending a party 
at 8 o'clock this evening at the home of Senator Roberts.  I have 
access to the guest list and will see that you're added to it.  I 
need you to get into his hotel room and to copy all the files in 
the folder labeled 'wake-up_call'.  I'll share the profits 50/50."

"You want me to whore for you, to bed him for it?" I asked quietly 
seething, my voice thick with accusation.

"I'm not telling you to fuck him," he snapped, still refusing to 
make eye contact, "but you can get him alone in a way that I 
can't.  What happens when you do is entirely your business."  A 
chill settled over the room.  Unspoken in the air hung, "I know 
you'll have to fuck him, but I don't want you to."

"I'll get your information, Alex," I said with unshed tears 
shining in my eyes.  "But, we'll discuss my cut when I have what 
you want."  I turned and strode to the bathroom, closing the door 
softly behind me.  I had a good cry in the shower, letting all the 
fear and hope and anguish pour out.  When I'd finished in the 
shower, I walked into the room, to find that he'd gone.  Fighting 
back a fresh wave of tears, I went about getting dressed and ready 
for the party.

*~*~*

I put on my work clothes.  From my duffle I pulled my all-purpose 
little black dress; versatile enough to wear to funeral or night 
club and made from the most forgiving material that was always 
ready to unroll and wear. I slipped it over my head with no other 
accessories than a pair of simple black 'come fuck-me' pumps.  

I twisted my hair up into a chignon and fixed my face, taking 
special time with my still puffy eyes. Next came the accoutrements 
of the trade.  I strapped a nylon fiber knife to my inner thigh 
where I normally carried my gun.  I knew that the senator's party 
would likely have metal detectors, yet I didn't think it prudent 
to go unarmed.   

From my bag, I pulled a small wooden box and retrieved from it a 
silver Claddagh ring.  The ring featured two hands holding a 
crowned heart between them.  The heart concealed a hollow space 
about the size of two stacked aspirin.  As I slipped it on my 
right hand, with the heart facing out I thought of the story of 
the rings.  

An Irishman in the 17th century was kidnapped by Mediterranean 
pirates and sold to a Moorish goldsmith. Over his years of 
captivity, he became a master craftsman and when he gained his 
freedom and returned home, he learned that his true love had 
waited faithfully for his return.  He was so moved by her 
devotion, that he crafted a ring for her with two hands which 
symbolized their friendship, a crown representing fidelity and 
loyalty, and the heart which was their eternal love.  

Irish tradition holds that wearing the ring as I was, on the right 
hand with the heart pointing outward, shows that the wearer is 
unattached.  But should the crown and heart face the other way, it 
means that a love is being considered.  However, to place the ring 
on the left hand with the heart pointing toward one's own heart 
signifies that the wearer has found true love and is no longer 
available.

Lovely story, but I had bought the ring for its hidden 
compartment. I emptied two chloral hydrate capsules inside and 
sealed it.  I completed my ensemble with a small black leather 
clutch bag that matched the shoes.  I collected my compact flash 
card reader and a 128MB disk and stuffed them into the purse along 
with my other small necessities like cash and credit cards.  

I noticed that Alex had left one of the cardkeys to the room on a 
small lighted table close to the door.  I tucked it into the 
handbag as well and had a last look at myself in the glass.  Apart 
from a slight sadness in my eyes that I thought never really went 
away, I was presentable and I headed to the lobby to catch a cab 
to the senator's party.

After passing through the expected metal detector, I walked in the 
front door and gave up my wrap to an invisible man who asked for 
it. A similarly invisible woman passed with a tray filled with 
glasses of wine. I selected a glass of the red as I scanned the 
room for Parker. I spotted him among a sizable group of men, 
nodding quietly while one portly, gregarious man seemed to be 
holding court over the others. 

I moved across the room closer to where he laughed politely at the 
fat man's jokes and observed him, sizing him up.  He was tall and 
not unattractive.  He seemed to be in his early 40s with sandy 
brown hair and very studiously styled glasses.  He had a nice 
smile and I was relieved.  At least if I had to fuck him, it 
wouldn't be too much of a burden. I thought about Alex; about the 
fire in his eyes and his angry  conjecture that if I wound up in a 
hotel room with Kendall Parker and had to use my body to keep my 
cover it was strictly my choice.  

My thoughts were brought abruptly back to Mr. Parker when I saw 
him looking right at me.  Completely startled and somewhat 
flustered, I took a casual sip of my wine, suddenly in desperate 
need of some business for my hands.  I quickly recovered my 
equilibrium and scolded myself harshly.  Daydreaming about Alex 
Krycek was going to get me killed one day!  I made eye contact and 
smiled as fetchingly as I knew how with what I hoped was a 'come 
hither' look as opposed to the 'deer in the headlights' sort.   

I suppose it worked because I saw him unobtrusively excuse himself 
and he was now walking toward me with a predatory look in his eye. 
I had another big swallow of the wine, grateful that it was a 
expensively dry vintage.  I felt its warmth radiate to my limbs 
and I relaxed just a bit.  He was close now, formulating his pick-
up line.  His hand poised to take mine and I offered it.  "I'm Ken 
Parker," came his opening volley. 

"Marley," I reciprocated.  He took my hand and brushed my knuckles 
lightly with his lips.  I smiled again and he motioned to a semi-
secluded table.  I complied and we sat together, flirting.  I 
wished we could just cut to the chase, but it would seem rather 
forward for me to just jump to the "let's go to your place" step 
so early in the dance.  The guy wasn't homely enough to just be 
thrilled to get laid and not question the windfall.

So, we sat across from each other, his hand lightly clasping mine 
and went through the motions of seduction.  He was good.  He 
complimented not only my beauty, but my wit and if I'd been less 
preoccupied with a certain tall, green-eyed rogue I might well 
have been impressed. As it was, I played along, seeming to succumb 
to his charms.  

His hands became freer as I complied with his intentions and soon 
he was practically mauling me with a fairly convincing fervor.  
Twice his hands strayed dangerously close to the knife strapped 
inside my thigh, but finally, he asked me if I would care to join 
him for a nightcap at his hotel.  I indicated my willingness and 
in no time at all we were making out in the cab on the way to his 
hotel.

*~*~*

"I'd like a drink.  How about you?" I asked quickly as we entered 
his room.  It was a large, richly appointed suite with a sitting 
area apart from the bedroom, which I was in no hurry to explore.  
The purpose of my question was two-fold.  I not only wanted his 
ardor to cool, but I needed something in which to dissolve the 
chloral hydrate.

"Bourbon. Neat," he requested as I headed for the mini-bar.  

Reaching into the tiny refrigerator, I selected two tiny bottles 
of Maker's Mark. Since I found no Southern Comfort, I grabbed a 
couple of equally petite bottles of Stolichnaya.  I found a can of 
orange juice and settled for a screwdriver.  

"Oops," I said coquettishly, "I need some ice.  Would you mind?"
I punctuated my request by handing him the ice bucket. He took it 
and headed out the door after taking a kiss.  Retrieving two 
glasses from the top of the mini-bar, I uncapped the bottle and 
quickly dumped the sedative powder in the ring into the amber 
liquid.  I emptied the bottles into the glass and swirled it 
around a couple of times to promote the powder's quick 
dissolution, making sure that the liquor didn't seem unusually 
cloudy.  Just then, he reentered with the ice and I took the 
bucket from him while simultaneously giving him the drugged drink.  

Plunking a small handful of the round, hollow crystals into my 
glass, I poured the vodka over them and filled the tumbler the 
rest of the way with the juice.  I finished making my screwdriver 
and joined him on the sofa, frankly amazed that he was still 
conscious.  

The taste of the bourbon was unpleasant when he plunged his tongue 
into my mouth in a sloppy kiss and kneaded my left breast, but I 
feigned enthusiasm.  I kept breaking contact to take tiny sips of 
my drink, nursing it, wishing that the mickey would hurry and kick 
in.  Unfortunately, the drinks were gone in short order and I was 
quickly running out of avoidances.  

I loosed the button on his slacks and he slouched down, spreading 
his knees. He fully expected a blowjob and I silently cursed Alex 
Krycek with my whole heart.  I started out slowly, running my hand 
inside his silk boxers and pulling his semi-erect member from 
inside.  His cock twitched in my hand and grew quickly, fully 
erect.  His right hand had already slid up to the back of my head, 
pushing, as I stroked him with my hand. 

Thankfully, his hand slid slowly down my back to flop motionless 
on the sofa and he began to soften just as I heard a gentle 
snoring.  Finally.  The chloral hydrate had taken effect.  I moved 
from beneath his arm and left him, sitting spread eagled and 
exposed, on the sofa as I went exploring.

I began a thorough search of his room.  I found a locked laptop 
case and rifled Parker's pockets for his keys.  Once I found them, 
it wasn't a tough guess which key fit.  I retrieved my purse, then 
inserted the disk I took from Alex's assailant into the proper 
drive and powered up the system.  I finished my drink and fixed 
myself another one while the machine went through its paces.  But 
once it had booted, the password had been negated and I went 
straight to the file list, searching for the folder named 'wake-
up_call'.  

The computer quickly found the folder and I inserted the small 
portable drive I'd brought into the USB port.  I highlighted all 
the files and clicked on the icon that would copy them onto the 
tiny disk.  As the files were being copied, I heard a nearly 
imperceptible click in the vicinity of the door.  I held my breath 
as the lever style handle slowly twisted downward.

*~*~*

Before my heart could even start beating again, I moved silently 
and swiftly to flatten myself against the wall next to the opening 
door.  I unsheathed my knife and waited, poised to take out 
whoever came through it.  

The first thing I saw was a tuxedoed arm with a masculine hand at 
the end of it, gripping the handle.  I seized the arm just under 
the elbow and pulled, putting my weight into it.  The man moved 
forward into the room as I swept his feet out from under him 
landing him on his hands and knees just inside the door of the 
room.  I threw my leg over the surprised intruder as if mounting a 
horse and grabbing a handful of hair, bared the throat as I 
prepared to slit it open. "Marley!" came a familiar, albeit 
stressed out voice.

"Goddamn it, Alex!" I released him quickly and sheathed my knife 
before the temptation to slit his throat anyway for the scare he'd 
given me won out. "What the *fuck* are you doing here!?"  I was 
exasperated and completely baffled.  The hairs on the back of my 
neck stood up as I considered the possibility that he had come to 
kill me to save money on the deal. 

He looked distinctly discomfited and I was seized with the 
strangest feeling that he would have been prepared to explain his 
presence, without falling over his words, had he come to kill me. 
"I - uh, I was - I thought you might need back-up," he explained 
as he climbed to his feet, straightening his black on black Armani 
tux.

Tux?  Then it registered, he was formally dressed, as were all the 
men at the senator's party. "You followed me," I deduced.  "Why, 
Alex?  Did you not trust me to come back with the merchandise?" I 
asked, about to be truly and deeply offended.

"That's not why..." he began, but just then, he walked around the 
couch finding Parker, completely senseless. A dark cloud seemed to 
pass very quickly across his face, "I came to save your virtue," 
he sneered, "but it looks like you had things well in hand."  He 
cast a pointed glance at the sleeping man's conspicuously exposed 
crotch.

"And just what the fuck did you expect me to *do* when you asked 
me to 'get close to him', play Yahtzee?" I said in a low, tightly 
controlled voice that dripped with murderous rage.  "Don't you 
dare stand there and pretend to be morally superior to me, 
Aleksandr Vassily Krycek! I know what *you're* capable of and 
using your body to get what you want isn't even the tip of that 
iceberg." 

Unable to hold them back any longer, angry tears finally spilt 
down my burning cheeks.  I turned my back on him, toward the 
computer which had long since finished copying files.  With a few 
quick clicks and keystrokes, I removed the disk and drive from his 
computer and stuffed them back into my hand bag. I picked up my 
drink glass and wiped my lip and fingerprints from it.  I 
continued around the room doing the same to everything I had 
touched since I arrived.  I double checked a list in my head to 
make sure that I'd gotten them all, then turned to leave.

*~*~*

He reached out and clamped onto my wrist with a grip like an iron 
vise.  He didn't hurt me, but my dramatic exit had been 
effectively thwarted.  "Where are you going?" he demanded.

I whipped around to face him.  "What do you care?" I snarled, 
"What?  Are you afraid I'm attempting to abscond with your 
merchandise?" I dug the disk out of my purse and threw it at him 
with a tear-filled glare.  "There it is.  Now, unless *you* want 
to service Mr. Parker when he comes round, you might want to be 
someplace that isn't here.  The drug will be wearing off soon and 
*I* have no intention of helping him out in that arena.  So, 
either let me go or do your best to kill me because I won't be 
here when it becomes an issue."  I gave him my eyes, intending to 
show him only my resolution, but couldn't completely hide the pain 
that lurked just behind it.

Just as the cloud had obscured his face before, the sun seemed to 
dawn in his eyes, lighting him from within. "No, I think we'll be 
leaving together," he said, with a cocky smile.  His hand still 
fixed firmly around my wrist, he led the way out of the room, to a 
bank of elevators and out of the hotel into a waiting limo.

Once inside the car, he pinioned me against the back of the seat 
with a kiss.  Angrily, I pushed at him.  "What the hell do you 
think you're doing?" I asked incredulously. 

"I think I'm kissing you," he said around my lips, pulling until I 
sat astride his lap.  He grabbed my hands and held them behind my 
back as he reasserted his lips to the task at hand.

I bit him.

"Ow!" he squawked, immobilizing me completely with his free hand, 
fisting it in my hair, "what was that for?"  He leaned in and 
nipped my lip in retaliation, bathing it with his tongue in the 
same motion.  He pulled back with extreme alacrity, a wicked grin 
on his face, as my teeth clicked shut on the air inches from his 
bottom lip, the action punctuated with a furious growl.

"First, you ask me to acquire this information for you; then, you 
look down your nose at me like I'm damaged goods for what you 
*assumed* I did to get it.  Now, you expect me to just spread my 
legs and fuck you, too, is that the deal?  Well, for your 
information, you conceited, arrogant jackass, I am not your whore, 
do you understand me?"  

I couldn't comprehend that smile, but I recognized the look in his 
eye.  He was aroused.  "Well, well, well now, aren't we just the 
little wildcat?" he whispered sensually in my ear.  His lusty 
appreciation of my fighting spirit was evidenced by the throbbing 
hard-on that nudged me through the silk of his trousers.  

Even through my anger, I felt my body betray me, react to him.  
Moisture flooded between my legs and my nipples hardened to nubs 
as he continued to kiss my throat, pulling my head backward with 
my hair and moving it this way and that to facilitate better 
access.  I put up a token struggle, just enough to make him have 
to hold me tightly to keep me under control.  I undulated and 
rocked against his rigid member under the auspices of trying to 
get away and I heard him stifle a moan.

"I never thought you were a whore, Marley. Mine or anyone's," he 
murmured softly, as his lips brushed the sensitive skin just below 
my ear. "You're practical, pragmatic, and would have bedded him 
had it been necessary to achieve my objective.  At first, I didn't 
think I had a problem with that, but the more I thought about him 
touching you," his eyes grew hard, "inside you, the less I liked 
it."  His tongue traced the shell of my ear and he lifted his hips 
thrusting his hard cock against me as I straddled his legs. "I 
love you, and there's nothing you, or I, can do about it. You 
don't have to believe me, but I know you love me, too.  So, mark 
my words, I *will* have you and you will be sighing like a furnace 
before this night is done."  His lips now brushed over the tops of 
my breasts while he still held my hands immobile with one hand and 
controlled my head with the other. 
  
His supercilious assumption both infuriated and seduced me. 
"Anything you get from me, you'll have to take by force," I said, 
throwing down the gauntlet with a fierce facade and hoping with 
all my heart he would pick it up.

"I can live with that," he said, not disappointing me.  

The car came to a stop in front of our hotel and Alex shifted his 
grip.  He pulled my thumb backward and applied just enough 
pressure to show me that resistance would be painful.  The driver 
had made his way to the curbside door and was pulling it open to 
give us egress.  Alex maneuvered me ahead of him through the lobby 
and toward the elevators, still holding me hostage by my thumb 
joint, giving the appearance of eager lovers holding hands. 

He pushed me through the door ahead of him and kicked the door 
shut behind us.  I found myself suddenly face down on the bed, 
with him on top of me.  He had relinquished my thumb, but still 
held my wrists together behind me with one strong hand.  With the 
other, he pushed my dress up over my head in one smooth motion, 
pulling it down my restrained arms to bind my hands there.  
Beneath the dress, I wore a French-cut black satin bra and panties 
set and thigh-high stockings topped with red lace garters that 
sported a matching ribbon of black satin.  He gave a deeply primal 
moan of appreciation that brought a private smile to my face.   

He positioned his legs between mine, parting them, then raised up 
on his knees and sat back on his heels.  His hands snaked around 
my hips and he lifted me to my knees.  With my hands tied behind 
me, my cheek and chest lay flat against the soft duvet coverlet.  
With my ass in the air, the only thing between me and total 
exposure was a thin scrap of black satin.

His fingers hooked into the string of my panties and tugged 
sharply.  The fine material gave easily and I was lain bare, 
spread open before his intense gaze.  I moved to close my legs 
together, but his knees still separated my thighs.  His hands 
moved over my hips, down the insides of my thighs and back up over 
my ass stroking and kneading the flesh.  He slid up my sides to 
brush the sides of my breasts with his fingertips.  His hands 
glided under me to cup my breasts in his hands, the resulting 
elevation of my chest, pushing me back into his throbbing 
erection.  His fingers swept over my ribs and one hand deftly 
unhooked my bra, tossing it aside.  He once again took my breasts 
in his hands rubbing the nipples between his first and middle 
fingers eliciting an involuntary moan from me.

He had removed his jacket before pushing me to the bed and now, no 
longer needing his hands to restrain me, he removed the rest of 
his clothing.  I couldn't see him, but my mind filled in the 
details and again felt the ache of desire for him to be inside me.  
Once divested of his clothes, he moved in close behind me.  I 
could feel the hair on his legs scratching against the backs of my 
thighs like a very fine wool.  He took himself in hand and rubbed 
the head of his unyielding Priapus.  He found me already very wet, 
and slammed into me, burying himself to the hilt. The depth and 
force of the thrust drove me right to the edge.  He didn't 
withdraw and plunge, though, driving me to whimper piteously, but 
rather reached down to loose my hair from its twisted knot at the 
nape of my neck.  

His fingers raked my tresses smooth down my back and he let them 
trail down to the top of my ass.  He gathered it together and 
wrapped it around one fist like a silken rope.  His other hand 
reached around me and sought out the tiny bundle of nerves that 
was engorged and throbbing for attention.  His middle finger 
probed our connection and slid back to circle my clit.  I moaned 
and wriggled my fingers to make contact with his rippled stomach, 
desperate to touch him, to reciprocate the fingers that danced 
over the highly sensitive nubbin.  He pulled back and thrust 
roughly into me again, using my hair as a sort of bridle to 
control my movements.  He slammed home again and again, his finger 
circling and massaging my clit.  I found a rhythm, swiveling my 
hips to maximize our contact.

The heat gathered low in my belly, building until it ignited and 
exploded in a soul-shaking spasm of pleasure.  My inarticulate 
scream sent him over the edge and he spilled into me, joining me 
in ecstatic oblivion.  We collapsed, spooned together, with him 
still buried deep inside me as our hearts slowly ceased their 
galloping paces and our labored breathing returned to normal. He 
kissed my shoulder and disjoined from me, turning me over onto my 
back as he raised up on one elbow to look down into my serene face 
and fluttered butterfly kisses across my eyelids, nose and slack 
mouth.  He lay his head upon the pillow, his lips close to my ear, 
"I would die for you, Marley," he whispered softly, "you're my 
soul mate, my nobler half. I wish I could give you a life with 
white picket fences and happy endings."

But we both knew all too well, that our happiness was ultimately 
irrelevant in the face of the coming holocaust.  So both of us 
tended to lurch headlong toward fatalistic hedonism refusing to 
acknowledge  fear, doubt or the deep emotional need to unlearn 
certain secrets.  Letting emotions cloud judgment could get us 
killed, or worse.  I knew I was being foolish, but I couldn't turn 
off my feelings.  I took the Claddagh from my right hand and moved 
it to the left, crown outward.  My tender heart was truly spoken 
for, and I could do naught to change it.  With his arms encircling 
me, I finally found a light and restless sleep interspersed with 
dark and ominous dreams.

*~*~*

A persistent nudge at my bladder woke me and forced me to 
reluctantly untangle myself from Alex's embrace.  He was the only 
man I'd ever known who held me like a living teddy bear while we 
slept. I pulled my leg gently from between his and he moaned as I 
gingerly lifted his arm to wriggle out from beneath it without 
waking him.  He growled softly as he patted the bed and finding it 
empty, curled into a fetal ball with the bulk of the blanket 
without ever fully reaching consciousness.

I headed into the bathroom. The toilet was located in a discrete 
alcove in the furthest corner of the cavernous room and I made my 
way to it, not bothering to close the door completely, merely 
bumping it with my elbow in passing.  I didn't turn on the switch 
as there was just enough illumination to find my way without 
taking out a toe. 

I sat down to relieve my bladder, goose bumps raising as the cool 
air slithered over my naked body, and wished that I'd thought to 
grab my kimono on the way in. Finishing quickly, I turned and was 
reaching for the small handle when I heard the door to our room 
crash open followed by masculine voices demanding "Don't move!"   

"What the fuck?!" Alex's confused voice and the sound of a scuffle 
came to me through the partially closed bathroom door. I held my 
breath to see if they would let him live long enough to answer his 
question. I moved silently to the door to see what I could. 

The drapes were open in the room and in the pale moonlight, I saw 
two men holding Alex by his arms as a third man struck him in the 
face with the butt of his pistol.

They looked like spooks, but *whose* was anyone's guess.  Enough 
of the moonlight reflected off the mirrors in the bathroom to cast 
sufficient light for me to see my duffle resting on the counter by 
the sink.  I could hear the man asking Alex questions about what 
he'd received from the man whose neck I'd broken. I could hear 
Alex cursing him in Russian between blows with the gun butt, but 
not answering his questions.  

I crept silently, quickly toward my bag.  I fished out my Beretta 
and moved, still naked, back to the door where I could see what 
was happening.  Alex's mouth was bleeding and his right eye was 
already swollen nearly shut.  I knew that I had only one shot at 
this, so I'd better make it good.  

The only gun I saw was the one that the first man had used to beat 
Alex.  The other two didn't seem to be armed, but that most likely 
meant that their weapons were concealed and I would only have as 
long as it took the men to retrieve them. With a deep, steeling 
breath, I let my arms hang loosely at my sides, hiding the gun 
behind my right thigh, and stepped naked into the room.

For a moment, it was as if time stood still.  I let my eyes adjust 
to the marginally brighter room, picking out all three of my 
targets.  Four pairs of male eyes suddenly fixed on me as I raised 
my gun and sited between the first man's eyes.

"Sir, it's her," were his last words.  I raised my weapon and 
fired with unerring accuracy eliminating a sizable chunk of his 
head as the one who was holding Alex retrieved his weapon.  I 
fired again and he took the next bullet in his chest, while the 
third man grabbed Alex and dragged him naked from the bed.  He 
disappeared down the hallway, using Alex's stumbling form for 
cover.

I heard a faint voice saying that the hotel was surrounded and 
they had "the man in custody and the woman pinned down".  I found 
a radio in the pocket of one of the dead men and grabbed it 
listening carefully to their dialogue. I threw on jeans and a t-
shirt, hastily stuffing what belongings I could quickly find into 
my duffle. I found shoes and shoved my feet into them.  I shrugged 
into Alex's leather jacket and beat a hasty retreat with the radio 
in hand, managing to evade them with their helpful information 
until I was on the ground floor.

There must have been a dozen "unmarked" units at strategic points 
around the hotel, but, only a great fool wouldn't recognize them 
for what they were.  I saw Alex, cuffed and bleeding in the back 
seat of one unit.  There was a petite red-haired woman treating 
his injuries none to gently and a tall, angular-looking man with 
her who scanned the perimeter of the hotel as though he could 
sense me and was trying only to pinpoint my location.  I knew that 
I couldn't do anything to help my Alexei right now.

"I love you, Alexei," I thought fiercely, "I'll come for you as 
soon as I can."  And I disappeared down the alley.


THE END
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