Reed '02: Soon

Holy mother-fuckin' shit.

Now what? Holy mother-fuckin' shit.

They told me you were the best undercover op. Well, someone did. No one here... no one would. But others have. After I called. After I checked... grilled them, bent it out of them. Doesn't matter; here, them – I know it anyway. It's clear from your file, your reports – so fluent and filled with those big words I just know you just know, not there from you finding them using the auto thesaurus on the computer as you write them to jazz things up – just there, in you. That's why I'm here. Because I just know too. You'll make seven. You'll make right. I'm bringing you back, getting you to join my team of... delinquents. I think you'll fit right in. Every team needs someone with your skills... I need my last man... someone who can con, someone who can work then angle... someone with your delicious looks... shit.

You haven't seen me yet...good.

Slow down. Breathe. Step back out of the room. Let the door close.

Don't drift too far... you're being watched here. Waiting eyes, vulture eyes – raptors who will pounce at first scent of blood, when they think you've left him, unwanting... after you've divined the truth of him they all so verbally know to have shared with you already. Assholes. If for nothing else come because I actually asked – come to shove this place right back up in them...

Shove. In.

Holy mother-fuckin' shit.

Still here, still in a shadow. No one's seeing you, or noticing. Even though they're all hovering, waiting, near gleeful I'm thinking to take you away – even more so I'll decide you can't come. Wouldn't they be surprised if they knew the real reason I'm out here... if they knew I was wondering if that table inside could hold both our combined body weight – and even if it could, would it last through the mindless fucking I already taste in you? Oooh, a little taken aback, maybe. Just maybe. Serve 'em right.

Shoulda looked at a picture before I came here. Shoulda followed that instinct, not said it didn't matter, was coming down to interview anyway.

Though I suppose in your file it wouldn't say "burning green eyes. flawless skin. tumbling brown hair. body that begs to be dragged close. kissable smirking lips."

No...just says what everyone needs to know. Maybe it's just assumed all the rest is obvious.

It sure is to me.

I didn't want you this much. I can't want you this much. Hell... complications are bad enough with a bunch of men trying to work together, figure each other out. And with the group I've already got – lord. I don't even want to think about it. Never mind my being turned on by the sight of you.

I didn't want you this much. I can't want you this much. What if you say no? What if you have a better offer? I'll take care of you forever...I swear it, here and now. What if you're not interested in Denver? I'll make it home for you. I'll be there, you'll be there. That will be enough

I didn't want you this much. I can't want you this much. Look what happened last time I felt this way... look how they paid for it, how I suffered. I'm willing for you, to try, to see if I could have better luck...if we could.

Holy mother-fuckin' shit.

I do want you this much...already. Like fire in my veins, like some goddamn disease. I'm itching with you.

Take a deep breath. Center yourself. Go back in the little room, get this interview out of the way. Think about the rest later. Put it off for a goddamn year – just work and convince him to come. Then deal with the rest.

If ever.

Soon.

Stepping back inside. Make a little noise this time. Good, you know I'm here... Now, approach the table like you're a grown man, not a horned out teenager.

Sliding into the cold vinyl-covered chair, flopping the folder onto the wide table... too wide, makes me far from you... anyway, nice and easy. Nice and cool. Know you could probably see it if I let you, but I'm not. Certainly not now...

Maybe we'll be lucky enough for it to be shown later.

Soon.

I'm here to beg you to join the team. Beg... not the word I should use, at least not aloud – not even hinted. More like professional to professional. That'll work. Chris Larabee. No, Mr Larabee is fine. I'm here because you wanted a face-to-face and so did I. Offering you a job. ATF. Different from FBI – but all things considered, don't you think it's about time?

Leaning across I set down the coffee I brought for you. Asked around, found out what you go for. Was easy really – they all here want to tell me all your little faults and weaknesses. Like wanting good tasting coffee is corrupting you or something. Never mind. I found out, and you won't be dealing with them very long now. And you can drink whatever you want in Denver. None of us give a shit.

Come back with me Agent Standish...come, soon...

Holy mother-fuckin' shit.

You look at me. You're smirking at the coffee – like I'd comment, like my comments would be like everyone else's. So I snap at you. Shit. shit. The eyes dim more, if that's possible. I know someone's in there. I saw him when you didn't see me... now I've made him retreat. But likely you wouldn't have introduced him anyway, not here. Not now. Not yet.

Maybe again you will.

Soon...

I wanted you to look at me. Needed you to. Didn't expect this though. This inability to look away, searching even though you're hiding.

Bite back that apology Larabee. Something about you he needs to respect... and if being a mean dog is it, be a mean dog.

Damn but I think you're looking right into me, yet you're acting like you can't see me, like I'm not all here; like I'm not mattering, here or not. Something about them holds me – holds you – holds us. Green emerald flames, hidden promises just for me...

Or at least that's what I wish I saw. What I can imagine there. What I see when I see you beneath me, over me...in me.

Mother fucker! Stop. That.

I can get over the eyes. I can get past your smiling lips, that smooth as hot honey drawl that's crawling all over me now as we talk. I'm talking too, and not doing a bad job of it. Well, I think I know what I'm saying. I think I'm making sense.

God... I hope I am.

Open the file. Talk about something in there. Mention a case, ask about it... what were your thoughts? Preparations? Methods? Nod your head. Comment... answer intelligently. Flip around in here. I know I marked other things. Get into those... you have to at least offer the pretense you're still considering him – as he's considering this job – not like you're actually considering him – considering us, coupled together, sweaty, spent, sated... no blankets, they get in the way... gotta have the lights on too, want to see those eyes burn at me, the glow of your skin.

Unless there's a moon – then that skin would really glow.

Mother fucker! Stop. That.

People don't make fun of the tight black jeans because you never wear them.

 Where's your knee exactly? I shouldn't do this... Seeking now with my leg, wanting to press against yours – only briefly – only a touch. Just to check. Make sure. Sometimes what you see isn't what you know, what you find out.

You look at me when I move easily, poking my crossed legs further at an angle. Raise a brow – good – look nonchalant – good. Like you really didn't mean it. Like we brushed and touched like that on accident. So, Agent Standish, you have any questions for me?

Like I'm not consumed now, that spot on my knee feeling raw, making my body hungry for more. Electricity... jerked up into me. Nothing soft about it, nothing gentle or wooing about you... you, Ezra...

I'll gentle you. I'll woo you... and you'll let me. You have to.

I consider your questions and I answer. Something pacifying about finally touching you, even though it's driving me crazy. Makes me glad you didn't offer your hand when I first came in. God knows what I might have done.

Yeah, undercover work is needed over there. Yeah, we do actual federal work, real bad guys and everything. Yes, we're not complete morons... you little shit. I see where you're going. Already trying to taint the waters, already making fun of yourself – this – in case it doesn't work out, in case I don't want you. Easier this way. I know I'm doing the same thing if you should say no thanks to me.

You've been talking and now you're waiting for an answer.

All I was doing was staring at your lips.

Wanting to taste.

Lean over this damn table... whisper against you... brush barely my lips with yours... tease so you're the one begging... make you want to ask me all the things you're making me want.

Think, Larabee. Answer the damn question. Call me at my hotel room. Yes, fine. That's what I was going to suggest. You have until tomorrow to let me know, then I'm heading back to Denver – with or out without you.

Never. It's a lie. False bravado. My only chance at sanity to tell you this now, to lie. Take the damn job, Ezra... take me.

You glance at your watch, I read it upside down. I'm amazed. Hours have gone by – hours I've stared at you, thought of you, built up the whole of the new life that will start with you as we've sat here – here feeling like only seconds have passed, that I'm now ready for an eternity.

We both stand. Still cool. Still brusque, removed. Still bastard team leader Larabee. I hold out my hand, brow going up – I dare you not to take it.

Holy mother-fuckin' shit.

You do. So much more than that furtive brush under the table – flush against each other, skin to skin, gripping, feeling–

Like making love only real small...

When we part I retrieve your file. Tuck it under an arm like I could care less if I drop it. Nod in your direction. Thanks for your time. Be sure to call me as I said you should, when I said. I can't wait, I won't.

I can. I will. Forever.

Two fingers salute at me, emerald eyes unreadable slits over that smirking mouth. I know you'll call. You gave me your word, and already I believe that. Already I know at least that. Other things might fail – other things might one day disappoint.

Hell, that have to. We're only human.

But your word I'll never question.

In here... to myself... until you're in here too, and you know what your word is to me.

Until then I'm keeping it a secret. A last line of defense. You might be a master at reading people but I can hide good as you. You won't see it until you ask, until we both know that about each other. I'll be goddamned and cursed if you never do, but I'll figure it out then. Just come to Denver. Then we can figure out the rest together.