Casting Doubt
You are waiting at the airport in the middle of the night. Oliver's plane was scheduled to land two hours ago but a storm in Denver caused a delay. You didn't appreciate until tonight just how used you'd gotten to your employers' extensive network of private jets.
Oliver has been gone just about a month. He's been in England wrapping up some business over property he's inherited from a distant uncle. He'd requested you be placed on enforced vacation in his absence, telling you he'd worry too much unless he was there to back you up personally. You agreed...initially. It only took him being gone a week before you got restless enough to put in for active duty again.
'Big mistake,' you think as you scratch the itch under your cast that never quite seems to go totally away. You were so eager to be back in the action again that you zigged when you should have zagged and took a bullet to your forearm. 'At least I completed the mission,' you try to reassure yourself, while attempting to actively not think about the fact that you never told Oliver you went back in the first place, let alone were injured.
At first, it was because Oliver never had a set time he could tell you he'd be back. As much as you missed him, once the cast went on you hoped he'd be gone at least six weeks. Last weekend you got a telegram letting you know he'd be unreachable for the next five days but not to worry cause after that he'd be on a flight home. Sure enough, all your attempts to get a hold of him proved unsuccessful.
You watch outside the terminal window as Oliver's plane lands and makes its way over to the gate. You stand nervously as eagerness to see him and worry about his reaction war within you. Finally, you see him emerge and eagerness wins...though worry makes you put your injured arm behind your back as best as you can.
His smile chases all negative thoughts away and your heart begins to thump a little faster. You rush forward and wrap one arm around his neck as you kiss him. He slides his hands around your waist and stops when he feels the hardness of the cast. He breaks the kiss and looks into your eyes, concern etched in his features.
Sheepishly, you pull your cast from behind you and smile up at him. "It's not a big deal."
"What happened?"
"Do we have to get into this right now?"
"Well, now I know there's something to get into."
You sigh. Damn him. "It's old news."
"Not to me."
"It's almost healed."
"Are you going to tell me what happened or not?"
"Well..." You take a deep breath. "I-went-on-active-duty-again-and-I-got-shot-and-I'm-sorry-but-it's-over-and-there's-nothing-you-can-do-about-it-and-I-haven't-seen-you-in-a-month-so-please-let's-not-fight-and-let's-just-go-home," you say in a rush leaving Oliver looking almost bewildered for a moment. Then his eyes narrow and you sigh again, thinking only one thing. 'Here it comes.'
"You gave me your word..."
"No I didn't."
"What?"
"No. I just said that I agreed that a vacation would do me good. And I did agree. For about a week."
"I can't leave you alone for a minute can I? And when were you going to tell me this?"
"I've been trying all week."
"Of all the stupid, reckless..."
In the middle of his rant, a thought occurs to you. "Hey, where were you all week by the way...that you couldn't be reached?"
"Um...taking care of business."
"What kind of business?" He is silent. "About your uncle's estate?"
"Well, no not exactly."
You arch an eyebrow. "An assignment?" He doesn't answer. "It was wasn't it?! You hypocrite!"
"This is different."
"How? You were supposed to be on vacation as well. And your promise to me that you would take it easy was at least as much of an agreement as what I..."
"Yes but I'm a man and..."
"If you say it's because I'm a woman I'm going to belt you with my cast."
"And I didn't get shot."
That's not what you were expecting to hear. "And that makes me what? Incompetent? I completed the mission."
"With a bullet scar to show for it!"
"You want to whip off the shirts and go scar to scar for incompetency? How many times have you been shot again?" A slow grin breaks out on Oliver's face. "What the hell are you smiling at?!"
"The thought that you would actually strip off your blouse in the middle of an airport just to prove what a jackass I am."
You are too angry to think about what you're saying. "You think I wouldn't do it?"
The grin broadens. "No, I know you would." He moves closer, putting his arms around you slowly. "Part of what I love about you is your absolute bravery; as much as it infuriates me from time to time."
His touch is sending shivers along your skin. "Stop that. We...we're fighting remember?"
Oliver closes the distance and takes your lips in a smoldering, lingering kiss. He pulls back barely an inch, warm breath against your face as he whispers, "We're what?"
You sigh and roll your eyes. "God I hate you," you say as you grip him around the neck and pull him to you for another kiss. You feel his smile against your lips.
|
|
| The character of Oliver Sampson and the show VR.5 were created by John Sacret Young and are © Samoset Productions and Rysher Entertainment. No infringement is intended and no profits are being made. |