Author's disclaimer: All characters and concepts are property of Alliance Communications. No profit is made here, so please don't sue me. Don't have much anyway.

Thanksgiving...In an Airport

By Courser

Leaning against the heavy glass of the window, I watch as the storm closes its jaws around us. 'Us' being those few of us left in O'Hare airport this Thanksgiving afternoon. American Thanksgiving, to be precise, Canadian Thanksgiving having already taken place in October. In any case, the Consulate closed for the extended weekend and I had arranged to spend it in Toronto. While Ray's family would have welcomed me for the holiday, I felt I needed to spend some time on my own. Ray graciously drove me to the airport, hoping that I could beat the storm and although it had been possible, it would have left a young father separated from his family. Since I really don't have any have any plans that would be spoiled by the delay, I opted to remain behind.

The storm churns in from the Lake to the north, wind steadily picking up, the flying snow obscuring the planes and equipment on the tarmac. The weather makes me homesick, though not so much for a place, as a time. A time when I was stronger and more sure of my place in the world. A time when I wasn't so tired and, yes, now, in this place, I can say it. Lonely. It's been many months since I almost left with Victoria, Ray's bullet the only thing that saved me from myself. I'm no longer so sure of my own inherent goodness and honesty - I would have left Ray in disgrace for a few fleeting moments of joy. Yet, still I feel so incomplete.

Gazing out at the snow, I ache with the cold. Or the memory of cold, I'm not entirely sure which. Why is it that when I lived in the far north, separated from human contact by hundreds of miles, I never felt as alone as I feel now? So isolated. Even when drawn into the bosom of the Vecchio family, with its unfamiliar cloying closeness, they only seem to exacerbate my own feelings of isolation. I'm suddenly glad that my father isn't about. He'd chide me for brooding, then blame it on himself and my grandmother.

I walk over to the bank of hard plastic chairs and decide to settle in. It could be quite a long wait. The only other person in this part of the terminal is a woman several rows away. She's reading a book, shifting frequently in her seat, trying to find a comfortable position. Not an easy task as I'm quickly finding. I can't quite make out the title, but I don't want to stare so I watch her out of the corner of my eye.

Come on, come on, come ON! God, I can't believe this snow! It just keeps comin' down and I'm really hoping I can get home in time for mom's dinner. Turkey with stuffing; that green bean, mushroom soup thing; her lasagna, homemade right down to the noodles. Traffic's just crawlin' and I'm just slip-slidin' all over the place. Oh crap! Just what we need. Black ice under the snow, we're playing bumper cars here.

Oh lady, no, no, no, don't do that. Well, it looks like dinner's out. The Riv, wonderful example of automotive engineering that she is, just decided to spin out as I tried to avoid a woman sliding sideways down the road. I now have a lovely view of the embankment I just slid down.

No way I'm gonna climb back up there, I'd be asking to get run over. I'll just call for help on the radio. How long can it take for a cop to come get me?

+++++
My fellow traveler has given up and is walking around the concourse, exhaustion evident in her steps. She's wearing some kind of clunky high heeled shoes that look terribly uncomfortable. They do accentuate her legs. Well at least what I can see of them; her skirt falls to below her knees. She's attractive, in a basic sort of way, from what I can tell. I really shouldn't be doing this. It's not important whether she's attractive or not. She's a human being, and as such, deserving of respect regardless of her appearance. I drop my head and try to focus on something, anything else. I look out the window, but a wall of white is all there is to see. Most of the time I can concentrate on the details of a case or duty, but in this particular instance, I have neither. I have far much to time to think. She finds another uncomfortable chair and sits, tossing her luggage to the side and somehow twisting her legs under and around her.

I close my eyes and try to rest. Soon, I see her in my mind's eye. Well, to be honest, I feel her more than see her. Her hands stroke my face, my forehead, soothing, before moving across my scalp to my neck, her fingers gently massaging the tension away. Soon, I touch my lips to hers and in spite of myself, I begin kissing her deeply, unable to stop or temper my passion. Even as I'm afraid of hurting or scaring her, I continue and she matches me. I force her mouth open with my tongue and my teeth clash with hers as she complies; I'm shocked at my imagined behavior, it seems wrong to think this way, but I'm reluctant to rouse myself. I feel her under my hands as they stroke, grasp and tease. While they aren't cruel, they aren't gentle. I've always been so careful to be gentle, considerate, a gentleman. My eyes pop open again just as I imagine myself using my teeth on her neck, my fingers pressing hard enough to bruise. What's wrong with me?

+++++

Ok, I give up. No one's ever going to come and get me. I'm going to freeze to death right here behind the wheel of my car. God, I wish Fraser was here, he'd know what to do. Probably be able to light a fire with spit and baling wire. I had to shut off the engine when the snow covered up the tailpipe. As a cop, it's one of the saddest thing I've ever seen, people dead of carbon monoxide poisoning trying to keep warm in a stranded car.

Fraser's been quiet lately. He took a pass on Thanksgiving dinner with the family. Well, ok, can't say that I really blame him. I mean, he's always all polite and everything, but between dodging Frannie's passes and the kids feeding Dief all kinds of bad stuff, well, I think it's just a little too much chaos for Benny. Hell, it's too much for me sometimes and they're my family.

But lately there's been something behind his eyes. A kind of, I don't know, emptiness? Wanna know what I think? I think he's lonely. Victoria turned him inside out, that's for sure, but you know the old saying; you gotta get back on the horse that threw ya. (Christ, where the hell did a kid from Chicago hear somethin' like that?) Well, he never got back on, he's just nursed that hurt month after month. Then, and I don't know this for a fact, but I have my suspicions, I think something happened between him and the Dragon Lady during the train thing. Ya know what would be really nice for him? To meet some nice Canadian gal in Toronto and have himself a fling.

Yeah, right, and I'm gonna be the next Pope. Benny'd never do anything that, that, well, impulsive. And he's way too much gentleman. If he'd just take the uniform off for a change, not just the clothes, but the whole enchilada. Just let his hair down and stop bein' the Mountie, Constable Benton Fraser. Jesus, even when he says it, it's like all in capital letters or something.

Hey, the cops finally got here. Someone just wiped the snow off the driver's window and made the universal roll-down-the-window sign. I roll it down, but there's not a cop in sight, just a small person wrapped up in a sheepskin coat kinda like McCloud had, face all covered up with scarves. I think they're saying something, but I can't make it out through all the layers. Luckily they're also waving at me to follow 'em, so I cover everything that isn't already covered, get out of the car and lock it up, following this little person to God knows where. I'm not exactly in a position to be picky here. We struggle up the embankment to a big 4x4 on the shoulder. The traffic's lightened up quite a bit since I last looked, but the road looks even less passable, if that's possible. Stranded cars litter the road and there's at least two inches of thick ice under about two feet of snow.

+++++
There are times I wish I were...someone else. Times when I could be, well, less intense, I guess. More impulsive and damn the consequences. Have I become too rigid, too demanding, my expectations for myself too high? Have I become a characature, holding myself to an unrealistic standard? I wasn't always like this, was I? I mean, I seem to remember a time when I wasn't so conscious of upholding a certain standard. Why do I have to be 'keeper of the flame?"

My fellow traveler has slumped very uncomfortably in her seat. Undoubtedly, she'll be stiff when she wakes. I really should go and try to be of some assistance. If I were someone else, I might be able to convince her to lie down with me. Great Scott, where did that come from? Well, yes I was thinking of lying with her, but only in a platonic manner, fully clothed, side by side. I could bask for a while in her scent and warmth. It might be enough to satisfy my need for companionship. But if I could truly act differently, drop the faade of the perfect officer, what would I do? Would I be content to merely lie next to her?

I take deep breath and slowly blow it out. Sometimes the emptiness inside threatens to engulf me, casting me adrift in a sea of lost opportunities and second chances that never came to be. I don't want to die like my father, alone in the cold, the only witness the stranger hired to take his life. I want, I need contact. Contact like that moment on the roof of that runaway train. Warm, human touch to ease the cold ache of my soul.

I'm of two minds in this matter. The first tells me that my need is merely base lust veiled in pretty words and high ideals. The second tells me that while there's a need for the physical release of such contact, it's primarily the ease of emotional pain that I seek, and that one is usually the means to the other. I choose to believe the second and ignore the first. At least for now. I have no energy left to argue with or chastise myself.

I walk to the window again, splay my hands against the glass, hoping the cold will subdue the unresolved fire I keep hidden deep within me. The fire that flares only occasionally, the fire of passion that so few have ever witnessed. Girard has seen it, Meg thinks she's seen it, but she hasn't - not fully, though Victoria has. Ray has seen it, but his mind denies what his eyes have witnessed. All others see nothing but what I want them to see and think me cold, unmoved, dispassionate. What they don't know is that the cold is all that keeps the fire at bay. It's all that keeps me sane sometimes. It was the cold that kept me from snapping Girard's neck in my office. It was the cold that kept me from beating Frank Zuko to within an inch of his life after Gardino's death. I knew he didn't do it, but he'd been so smug, so smooth, the way he called me over at his birthday party like some favored pet. I smiled and appeared cool as always, but inside the fire was building, looking for an opportunity. Then, when speaking with him in the interview room, my fingers itched to wipe the petulant look off his soft, pretty features. It was the cold that allowed me to remain civil and distant. It's what makes me a good cop, never acting out of rage or pain or retaliation, my only mission to find the truth. It's what got me exiled from my home. Perhaps if I'd pulled the trigger on Girard the day he'd tried to convince me of my father's corruption, perhaps if I'd hidden his body well, I'd still be home. Of course it would have been only a matter of time before I turned that same weapon on myself. As passionate as I can be, I've never lost sight of right and wrong, good and bad. I'm on the side of good and right; nothing can change that without destroying me in the process.

I turn my head to look at the woman, trying once again to get comfortable enough to rest. It's only mid-afternoon, but she looks quite tired. Perhaps she didn't sleep well last night or she had to awaken very early this morning. I pick up my knapsack and go to her. I take a seat across from her.

"Excuse me, but I couldn't help but notice that you appear, well, tired," I start, and she looked at me, bloodshot blue eyes looking out of a pale face. "I'd like to try to help, if I can. If you'll let me help you."

Shifting once again in her seat, she seemed to assess me in some way. She looked into my eyes with something like curiosity.

"And you would be...?" she said after a brief moment, though it felt longer than that.

"Ah, sorry, Benton Fraser, R..., uh, fellow storm victim," I introduce myself, determined to minimize the distance my position would put between us. I offer her my hand.

"Lisa Alton. It appears that we're about the only ones left." She accepts my hand with a firm squeeze, her hand cool and dry.

"Pleased to make your acquaintance, Ms. Alton,"

"Yes, you too. So are you with the military or something?" she asked, her eyes scanning my uniform.

"Uh, no. Royal Canadian Mounted Police. Though I'm obviously out of my jurisdiction."

"Obviously," she replied, amusement crinkling the corners of her eyes.

"Well, as I mentioned, you appear quite fatigued. Could I offer you the use of my bedroll?" I began, but broke off as her eyebrows crawled up her forehead.

"No, no, no. I didn't mean it like that," I stammered, feeling the flush creep up my neck, "I just thought you might want to stretch out for a bit. I assure you, my intentions are honorable."

I was no longer sure that my intentions were so very honorable, but honorable enough for this time and place. Our presence in a public concourse eliminated any other possibility. I noticed her eyes scanning the terminal before looking at me again.

"I am pretty wiped out. I'm from Los Angeles and had to get up at 4:30 to make this flight." She searched my eyes for any sign of deceit, then, "Ok, I'd really love to get prone for a while. Tell you what. I'll trade you my book for some down time. Sound fair to you?"

"More than fair." I answered as I pulled my bedroll free and spread it on the floor between us.

Ms. Alton opened her duffel and extracted a few items which she rolled up to make a pillow. Handing me her paperback, she knelt on the prepared bedding, arranged her skirt and reclined, covering herself with her long coat.

"Thank you, Mr. Fraser. I do appreciate this."

"My pleasure, Ms. Alton. Rest well, I'll make sure you aren't disturbed." I fought the urge to ask her to use my first name. Becoming more familiar didn't feel appropriate at the moment.

I looked at the book she'd given me. The Hunt For Red October by Tom Clancy. Even though I'd already read it, I really had nothing better to do than read it again. It wasn't long before Ms. Alton had curled up on her side and her even breathing indicated that she'd fallen asleep.

+++++
I soon discovered that my savior wasn't just a small person, she was a woman. She said little as she piloted the Explorer through the tangle of abandoned cars.

"Thanks for stopping back there. How'd ya I was still in there?"

"The roof. The snow was still kinda melted and I figured someone might still be there. What the heck were you waitin' for, an engraved invitation?" She shot back.

I smiled to myself. I like a woman with spirit. By now the storm had really hit hard and I couldn't make out her features very well in the dim light.

"Well, not exactly. I called the precinct over an hour ago for help, but it never showed up. I'm pretty lucky you did, or I'd be a popsicle by nightfall."

"So, you're a cop? Hmm." She kept her eyes on the road, dark blonde hair now tumbling around her face.

"Yes, ma'am. Detective Ray Vecchio, 27th Precinct, Chicago P.D., at your service."

"At my service, huh? And just what do you think you can do for me Detective Vecchio? I mean, right now you can't get yourself out of the cold without help." She said with a grin.

"Well, you never know, Miss...,"

"Johnson. Emily Johnson."

"Miss Johnson. You never know when a friend on the force might come in handy." I said as I tried to warm my hands on the defroster vents.

"I'll bet." She glanced at me, "Look, I don't know where you were going, but the best I can do is my place; I don't live far from here. At least you'll be safe and warm."

"Your place? I was tryin' to get home. I guess they'll just have to do without me." I'm disappointed. This is the first Thanksgiving I've spent away from the family in ages.

"I'm sorry, but it's just too dangerous to try and get anywhere. You can call your wife from my house. Well, if the phone lines aren't down, that is." Ms. Johnson offered.

"I'm divorced. It's my mom and my sisters, Maria and Frannie, and Maria's husband and kids." Something tells me that wanna be clear about my availability. "What about you? You got a houseful?"

"Naw, I'm divorced too, no kids. I usually go home for Thanksgiving, but not this year. Just couldn't face the trip, ya know?" She told me, a little sadness in her voice. Family probably gives her grief about bein' alone.

"Oh, where you from?"

"Saginaw, Michigan. Rough trip this time of year." Yeah, more ways than one, I bet.

She finally pulled off the freeway and crept down the ramp in 4 wheel low, the transmission growling the whole way. The snow and ice covered the empty cars and trucks and it's eerie, kinda like some kind of graveyard the way the snow absorbs so much of the sound. The squeak and creak of the snow under the tires was loud in the silence. You know it's damn cold when the snow sounds like that.

She turned into an alley I couldn't even see, the branches of the trees scratching on the roof like fingernails. About half way down, she triggered the automatic garage door opener and stopped even with the door. Nothing happened, the door didn't open, frozen to the ground by the sleet.

"Damn." She pushed the remote harder, as if it would help.

"I'll get it," I opened the door and buttoned up against the cold again. "Does it roll up or flip up?"

"Thanks, it rolls."

"Least I can do. Just give me a minute." I answered as I got out of the warm vehicle.

The icy wind whipped down the neck of my coat and swirled up my pant legs, practically taking my breath away with its intensity. I found the handle and turned it easily, but I soon found that the hardest part was yet to come. I leaned over and grabbed the other handle and gave a tug. Nothing. I tried again and it still didn't budge. Ok, no more Mr. Nice Guy. I really put my back into it and it gave just a little. Ok, baby, just one more time and I pulled for all I was worth. With a clanging bang it came loose, a muscle in my shoulder protesting at the same time. Great. Still, the door easily rolled up the rest of the way and I stood aside so Miss Johnson could drive in.

She got out of the car and pressed the switch to close the door again. This time it complied easily, with a minimum of screeching. We trudged across the backyard, the snow over my knees. My feet were wet and frozen. I should have known better than to wear oxfords anywhere near Fraser, even though I left him at the airport. I hoped these would survive, I get tired of buying new shoes, not to mention the cost.

Emily opened the back door and lead the way into the kitchen.

"Here we are, home sweet home." She tossed her keys on the kitchen table

"Wow, it smells great!" I'm surprised that she'd bother to cook a Thanksgiving dinner if no one was coming over.

Well, I'm here, but she couldn't have planned that. I could smell turkey with stuffing, sweet potatoes and pumpkin pie. The fragrance was different from home, without the distinctive odor of basil and garlic, but welcoming just the same.

"Thanks," she said absently, "Why don't you get out of those wet shoes and socks. I'll see what I can get for you."

She seemed to want me to stay put, so I just look around the kitchen. Clean and a little cluttered. Well, what do I expect, she had dinner cooking. She returned with a pair of bulky wool socks.

"Here, these outta do the trick. And stuff this in your shoes, it'll help 'em dry." She handed me a section of newspaper.

I must have made some sort of noise when I bent over to put the socks on, because she suddenly asked if I was okay.

"Oh, yeah, I just pulled a muscle in my shoulder. It'll be alright." I rubbed my feet, trying to warm them through the heavy wool.

"I'm sorry, maybe I can do something for it later," she said, rather cryptically as she moved around the kitchen working on the meal.

"Why don't you take a couple of these, for now," she tossed me a bottle of aspirin, "And the telephone's right behind you, so you can call your family and tell 'em you're safe."

+++++
Try as I might, and all apologies to Tom Clancy, I wasn't able to concentrate enough to read. My mind kept wandering to Ms. Alton. Lisa, I kept telling myself. The part of me that wanted to turn away from all that was proper and orderly and correct. Why now? Why now, after so many years was I chafing at the role I'd cast for myself. I should have been satisfied with being able to take care of her, watch over her while she's vulnerable, but I'm not. I looked at her obliquely, knowing that if I stared, it would disturb her sleep, embarrassing us both. Her hair, a light brown in color, draped over her shoulder, curled under her chin and accentuated her fair skin. Her arms were crossed over her chest, but didn't hide the dip of her waist or the gentle curve of her hip under her coat. What was it about this woman that I found so compelling? I wanted her, I understood that, but why? I'd desired women before, but not this strongly. It must have been that there was little to distract me from my baser desires.

Baser desires, indeed. If I were someone else, almost anyone else, would anything stop me from trying to seduce her? God, what a word. Was I even capable of intentional seduction? I supposed I was, though I couldn't recall a time when I'd tried. I bit my lip as I imagined twisting my fingers in her hair, drawing her head back to claim her mouth, suckle at her neck. My imagination composed a variety of moans and sighs that she'd give me in appreciation. Before long, I'd worked myself up into quite a state and not merely a physical one. The physical didn't concern me, that was easily enough resolved, but I realized that it wasn't only the physical that I was seeking. I looked around the terminal once again. Even if I were able to convince Lisa to accommodate me, I couldn't imagine how it would be accomplished in this setting. Again, I was sure the physical aspect could be achieved, as vacant as the area was, but the thought was repugnant to me. A furtive tryst in some isolated corner held no attraction for me.

An airline employee approached with several bottles of water.

"I'm really very sorry for the inconvenience, sir. Unfortunately, this is all I can get for you at the moment, but we're trying to make some arrangement with the hotel next door," he explained.

"Arrangement? I'm afraid I don't understand."

"Well, since both you and Ms. Alton voluntarily gave up your seats, it's customary for the airline to provide accommodations. But with the storm and all, they're not sure if they have any rooms available. I assure you, we're doing the best we can."

"Ahh, well, I'm sure you are," I answered. "Thank you kindly," I indicated the water bottles.

"I'll be back when I know more, Mr. Fraser." He said as he left and I nodded in acknowledgement.

Well, that certainly put a different spin on things. If I could get a hotel room, I would have a legitimate reason to ask her to join me. It was still a long way from the final resolution, but closer. Part of me recoiled in horror at my intentions. I was consciously planning to seduce a woman to satisfy my baser instincts. When did I become so wanton, depraved? Or was I merely human? I had to take a deep breath to halt the prick of tears behind my eyes. I just wanted to wrap myself around her, crawl inside her, just for a little while. For some reason I had come to believe that this woman, in particular, would be able to soothe the fire, ease the ache. I couldn't imagine why I felt that way. Neither breathtakingly beautiful, nor homely, what was it about her in particular? Or was it just chance that had left us both stranded here just now?

+++++

Emily was quite the cook. Not like my mom, of course, but excellent nonetheless. She'd fixed a turkey breast with dressing, sweet potatoes, green beans and pumpkin pie. All washed down with a some respectable wine. Not the huge spread my mom puts out, but more than enough for two people. I helped her clear the table and must have groaned out loud, my shoulder spasming as I lifted a heavy dish to the counter.

"Shoulder still bothering you?" she asked.

"Yeah, but it'll be ok. Must have wrenched it worse than I thought," I tried to blow it off.

"Hmm, must have. Sit down here," she directed me to a kitchen chair.

I sat and she stepped behind me and placed her hands on my shoulders, beginning a gentle massage. Her right thumb slowly working down and out until it came to the edge of my shoulder blade. I gasped at the soreness she found there.

"Oh, god, that's it," I breathed.

"Yeah, I feel it now. Give me your right hand."

She took it in her left and drew it across my neck as the fingers of her right worked into the space opened beneath my shoulderblade. Years spent as a cop sent warning signals to my brain at my vulnerable position, but she held me firmly, yet gently and I realized that my head was pillowed on her breast. There's really nothing like that soft-firm texture. She didn't seem to notice it, so I just let it rest there as she worked her fingers into my muscles. I gasped a couple of times as she found especially sensitive spots.

"Just breathe into it...Ray," she used my first name.

Her perfume surrounded me, combining with the warm kitchen smells, relaxing me.

"What does that mean, breathe into it? Ahh, ahh, that kinda, ooo, ow...," I found I really couldn't talk much; her hands were strong, but gentle and I felt something open up inside me.

"It means don't hold your breath from the pain. Come on, take a deep breath," Emily practically ordered me, her warm breath near my ear sent pleasant chills down my spine

I took some deep breaths and then had had just about enough of her digging her fingers into me. In fact I was beginning to have my own ideas about Emily.

"Ok, ok, enough already." I stood up to thank her, but by the time I'd stretched my neck a couple of times she'd already turned back to the sink.

I put my hand on her shoulder and she turned her head to look at me. Eyes the color of dark sweet chocolate looked into mine.

"Thanks, Emily. That's better." I dropped my eyes and stepped behind her, "Do you think I could return the favor?"

She tensed under my hands as if she wasn't sure if she could trust me, then I felt her shoulders drop with a conscious effort.

"Yeah, I guess that'd be nice," she answered quietly.

"Good, 'cos I'm actually kinda good at this," but I didn't move her to the chair, not just yet.

I massaged her shoulders and pressed my thumbs alongside the slender column of her neck, working into the notch at the base of her skull. Her heavy hair fell over my hands and winding my fingers into it, I gently tugged at it and was rewarded with a soft moan that went straight to my crotch.

Putting my mouth close to her ear, "You like that?"

"Uh, huh," I felt it as much as heard it and massaged her scalp with my fingertips in between tugs.

I drew her hair away from the right side of her neck and pressed my lips to the point where it joined her shoulder. When she didn't object, I put my open mouth on the same place, swiped it with my tongue, then pulled away and blew on the damp spot I'd left. Emily shuddered, moaned and spun around. I hadn't even realized that my hand had moved to her waist and now rested in the small of her back. Her dark eyes met mine again, and I saw need and fear reflected there. I wasn't sure which applied to her and which to me. I decided it didn't matter when she drew me down into a kiss, unsure at first, but soon deeper and harder. I pulled away after a bit to catch my breath, my forehead resting on hers.

"Are you...are you sure this is...wise?" I felt I had to ask.

I felt Fraser's presence like one of those little conscience guys on my shoulder. Ya know, like the kind you see in cartoons.

"No," she chuckled, as she nipped at my neck, "but I sure as hell want to go wherever this leads."

"Mmm, well, can't argue with that," I agreed, leaning her into the counter, pressing my hips against her.

I trailed my fingers down her cheek, under her jaw and tipped her head up. I leaned down. Her mouth was soft and sweet under mine. Before I knew it, my tongue had slipped into her mouth, Emily holding it gently between her teeth as she stroked it with her own. God, it felt so good.

+++++

I spent the next hour or so thinking about Lisa. Well, Lisa and I to be completely honest. Together. In a hotel room. I kept coming back to the same problem though. Any contact between us would have to be mutual. She would have to want me and thus far I'd gotten no indication that she did. Or even might.

I thought back to something Ray had said. Something about how it was hard to be friends with a saint. Well, Ray, you should see your saint now. Struggling with the temptations of the flesh, same as any other man. Ray would know what to do. How to draw this woman out. Ray would be smooth and charming and could probably sweep Lisa off her feet without really trying. Me? It's a struggle just to make conversation.

She began to stir and I watched as she stretched sinuously on my bedroll. My eyes were drawn to the way her sweater pulled across her breasts. She must have been cold because when she arched her back I saw the shape of her nipples outlined against the fabric. I pressed my tongue between my lips and my breath caught in my chest as I felt myself respond. When I finally was able to tear my eyes away, she met them evenly and I knew I'd been caught. I was trapped, couldn't look away and though her gaze held no reproach, it felt as if she could see straight through to my heart. See all the raw need and desperation I'd so carefully hidden away.

I held out my hand to help her up and she took it. We stood together and she stepped easily into my personal space. I could smell her perfume, spicy and exotic, vaguely familiar. She didn't release my hand immediately but pushed her fingers up my sleeve over the back of my wrist, curling over to where my pulse pounded. A warm fluid feeling crept up my arm from where she touched me and settled somewhere in my chest. Kind of like warm molasses, I looked at her and let out a breath I didn't know I'd been holding. Her expression was unreadable, her blue eyes intense but kind. I suddenly felt as if I could trust her, known her even, though I was sure we'd never met. As unsettling as it all was, it was also familiar. Something from my childhood, before my mother had died.

"Who are you?" I asked her quietly, and for a moment it appeared as if she understood the meaning behind my question.

"I mean, what...," I started again, still ineffectual.

It seemed to break whatever spell had fallen over us and she smiled, the edges of her mouth turning up as she looked away and dropped my hand.

"Lisa Alton, remember?" she answered, but I shook my head and waved my hand at her.

She looked like she might try to ignore my question, pretend it never happened. Then she met my eyes and I saw her decide to offer an explanation.

"Oh, you mean the... uh, yeah, that." She looked around, then sat in the chair next to the one I'd just vacated.

"I don't know exactly, really. It's just something I do. It's been called lots of different things."

I took my seat again and offered her a bottle of water. She took it, thanking me and took a long drink.

"What kinds of things?" I asked after she'd finished.

"Hmm? Oh, well, my father calls me a witch, though it's not technically true. I've been told I'm a healer. The man I was with when it came to me simply called it voodoo. It runs in my family though, my brother's a dowser, even if he won't admit it. Comes down from my mother's side." She explained.

I thought for a moment, then asked, "What do you call it?"

She shrugged, thought about it a bit.

"I don't really call it anything. I really don't know what it is. I do know that I can sense what people are feeling. Sometimes I know what's wrong with them. But I don't understand how it works or why."

"What did you mean when you said it came to you? You didn't always have this?" I was remembering an Inuit woman coming to our cabin when I was very small.

"Well, I've always been sensitive to people's moods, but the touching thing, no. That only came about 4 years ago. Don't ask me why, I don't know." She looked at her hands.

"It's quite a gift, Miss Alton." I wanted to ask her to touch me again.

Maybe this is why I'd been drawn to her. She seemed to be thinking about something, her eyes slightly unfocused and looking at nothing in particular. After a moment she turned to me, bringing her hand near my face. I flinched away from it and my alarm must have shown on my face.

"Ssshhh, easy," she soothed, putting her other hand on top of mine, "May I? It'll be alright, you'll see."

I nodded my assent. I felt the warmth infiltrating my body again, a welcome sensation, then she placed a hand on my forehead. I shut my eyes reflexively, and felt myself relax under her hands, where normally I would be anxious at a stranger's touch. We sat like that for some time, I'm not sure how long, then Lisa withdrew her hands. When I opened my eyes again, she was smiling at me.

"Better?" she asked.

"Yes, actually. Quite a bit." I did feel more at peace, though my desire for her hadn't abated at all.

Before I could stop myself, I'd reached out and touched her face, drawing the backs of my fingers down the side of her face. Unlike me, she turned into the touch and smiled. She looked trusting and open and I chided myself for my carnal thoughts. How could I repay her kindness with lust? I felt like she had been delivered into my care and given me a precious gift. My desire was a betrayal of her trust.

A shadow crossed her face as if she'd heard my thoughts. She caught my hand and pressed her lips to my palm, searching my eyes.

"No," she said quietly, her eyes fiercely intense, "it's a gift two people give to one another."

I looked at her, not entirely sure I'd heard her correctly. She dropped my hand and looked away, her fair skin coloring with a blush.

"Done properly, that is," she added, looking amused.

I sat back in my seat a bit, taken aback by her comment. I didn't know what to make of the cryptic conversation. Had she actually read my thoughts or had she just drawn her own conclusion in response to my unease? After a bit, she got up from the chair.

"I'm going to go find a ladies room. I'll be right back." She started to walk away.

"Wait, I'll go with you." I followed her and she gave me an odd look.

"Well, not there exactly, but, uh," I again felt like a fool.

"Right. You think our stuff will be alright?" she asked.

"Yeah, seeing as we're the only ones on the concourse, I think it's safe."

We walked across the concourse and located the rest rooms. I used the facilities, then washed my hands and looked at myself in the mirror. I looked tired, the lines around my eyes more pronounced, my eyes washed out. I needed her, I knew that. I wanted to kiss her, I knew that too, wanted feel her lips on mine so much it took my breath away when I thought about it. I splashed water on my face, dried off and left the restroom. She soon joined me back on the concourse and we walked slowly back towards our luggage.

I stopped as we drew even to a small alcove and simply stood there, racked by indecision. Lisa looked at me questioningly, but didn't resist as I took her hand and pulled her into the shadowed recess. The diffuse light cast her face into shadow, but I could still make out her features. I placed my hands on either side of her face, hesitated a moment, then kissed her. Gently at first, her mouth pliant under mine. She responded easily and when she flicked her tongue over my bottom lip, I groaned with pleasure and frustration. My tongue slid into her mouth easily and she welcomed it with her own. I pressed her to the wall, her arms around my waist as my hands roamed her body. When I finally pulled away from her, my heart was pounding, my breath ragged. I buried one hand in her hair, drew her head to one side and nipped and bit at her neck. I wasn't as gentle as I might be, but she wasn't alarmed, arching her back and rubbing against me instead.

++++++

Emily finally broke free from me and led the way to the living room where a fire burned in the fireplace. While she spread a comforter and pillows on the floor, I added a couple logs to the blaze, then joined her.

"I've, uh, well, I don't generally..." I started.

"You don't do things like this, you mean. Me neither." She offered, drawing me down with her.

"No, I don't, but, uh, you're pretty irresistible, you know?" I stretched out beside her, smoothed her hair away from her face.

"Why don't you shut up and kiss me, Detective Vecchio."

"Whatever you want, Emily," I didn't need any more encouragement than that, though I was pretty sure we were going to be doing more than kiss.

Emily nibbled at my lips, then teased them with her tongue. I responded by licking at her lips and they parted. Her tongue snuck into my mouth, stroking over and behind my teeth. A groan escaped me and she pushed me over onto my back, deepening her kiss as she twined our fingers together. My body responded to her seduction and I shivered as my blood rushed to my groin. I wanted to take this slowly, but my body had other ideas. I rolled us onto our sides so that I could gain access to her sensitive neck and let her hair drape over my face.

+++++

It was Lisa who finally broke our embrace, stilling my hands with hers and pulling away.

"Um, I think we'd better get back to..." she began.

I took a step back and gathered my scattered thoughts. Her withdrawal was almost painful, not unlike pulling a piece of adhesive tape way from a wound. I felt raw and uh, exposed, cold rushing in to chase away what warmth I'd gained.

"Yes, of course." I managed, taking her hand and leading her back to our seats.

We quickly inventoried our belongings, finding everything in order and sat down again in the unforgiving chairs. Turning to speak to her, I caught sight of the side of Lisa's neck. I felt ill at the crimson marks marring her skin.

"Lisa, my god, I'm so sorry," I reached out to trace them with my fingers, wanting to erase the evidence of my lack of control.

Her head turned quickly towards me and her hair fell over my hand, concealing my indiscretion.

"For what?" she asked quietly, picking up on my distress.

"Your neck, I, I, I seem to have marked you." I dropped my head, ashamed at my lack of control.

Her hand covered mine on her neck, "Oh, don't worry, you didn't hurt me." she smiled at me, "Really. I don't even feel it, my skin's just very sensitive. It'll fade soon, you'll see."

Apparently, I looked unconvinced.

Again, she took my hand and kissed the palm, "It's ok, don't worry." I felt her breath whisper across my fingers and met her eyes.

It was as if those eyes could see through me, past who I appeared to be, the person I presented to the world, to all my doubts and fears. For just a moment I think that she could see the man behind the image, lonely, cold and frightened. She grasped my hand with surprising strength.

"Benton. I assume I can call you that..." she began.

"Or Ben, if you like."

"Okay, Ben. Yes, I like that," her eyes bored into mine, "Ben, It's ok, don't worry. I can see that you're all bent out of shape and there's just no reason for it. I'm not made of glass. I won't break. I'm much stronger than I look. Believe me, if you do anything that hurts me, I'll let you know. Okay?"

I nodded my head and tried to look away, but found I couldn't. She raised her free hand and stroked the back of my neck.

"Ben, you're only human. Who ever told you that you had to be perfect every minute of every day? I know that this may come as a shock to you, but you're a man, pure and simple," she smiled, "and you're probably a better man than most, but human nonetheless. Give yourself a break, for God's sake."

She pulled me towards her and kissed me briefly, her tongue sweeping across my lips as she pulled away. More of that odd tearing sensation in my chest. How could this woman see me so clearly when even I rarely have that much insight into myself? A mystery, without a doubt.

"Now, why don't you lie down for awhile. Doesn't look like we'll be getting out of here anytime soon," she told me, dropping her hands and settling back.

I can't remember the last time someone, anyone, had ordered me to bed and I smiled.

"I'm not tired." I cited the argument of tired children the world over as I spared a glance over my shoulder to the wall of windows.

The snow had not abated, churning in eddies around the building. The light was fading, signifying dusk and it appeared that the storm was here to stay. Accustomed as I am to such weather, its violence never ceases to amaze me.

As I turned back to Lisa, a twinge in my stomach reminded me that I hadn't eaten since this morning.

"I think I'll try to find us something to eat," I explained as I got up, stretching my back.

"Well, everything's pretty much closed up, isn't it?" Lisa countered.

"Yes, well, I'll just have a look around," I said as I left the Air Canada boarding area.

While it's true that I was hungry, I had other reasons for leaving the area. As she'd been talking to me, it occurred to me that it was quite likely that we'd have to spend the entire night there. While spending the night with her was an attractive proposition, spending it here was not. Her proximity confused and confounded me, muddled my thinking. Earlier I had thought I might like to simply lie next to her, but I now knew that I would never be satisfied with that. In fact, it sounded like a form of torture to be so close, yet unable to...to what? To make love to her, I thought, releasing a long sigh, stopping in my tracks and checking to make sure I was out of sight of Lisa. God, I can't remember wanting something this much.

Well, actually I could, I realized. I'd wanted Victoria to return to me this much, so many months ago. I shook my head a little to dispel the memory. This was different. This was completely different, I told myself. I wondered if I was deluding myself, if I was running headlong into something just as disastrous.

I began walking again and thought about fabricating some explanation and leaving for some other part of the airport. God knows, O'Hare is large enough me to find another place to spend the night. Perhaps it'd be best for both of us if I just...left.

+++++

God, it'd been so long since I'd been with a woman that I'd forgotten how good it felt. And God, Emily felt good, all soft curves and warm skin. I don't know how long we lay there, learning each other's most sensitive spots. Her hand was under my shirt, fingers kneading the muscles of my lower back. She'd thrown her leg over mine and rubbed against the one I'd pushed between her thighs.

I'd found a spot just over her hipbone that made her sigh every time I grazed it under the hem of her sweater. She kissed me hard, her tongue roaming over my molars, and I moved my hand up to the back of her bra and struggled for a moment, woefully out of practice, before releasing the hooks. I eased my chest away from her and she shivered as my fingers trailed over her side before reaching her breast. Full, but not overly large, I stroked around the sides and bottom before cupping it in my hand. I gently pulled away from her mouth to watch her face as I dragged my thumb over the nipple, already stiff and pebbled. Her eyes closed, moaning as she pressed herself down onto my thigh. Her hand came around and up under my shirt to stroke my chest and I realized that my nipples were as hard as hers when she drew her nails across one. It was my turn to push my hips into her and I felt myself get even harder. I hadn't thought it possible.

We seemed determined to drive each other to new heights of arousal before getting down to the main event. That was fine with me, more than fine. I rolled her nipple between my fingers and she gasped, arching towards me. I kissed her, then, hard enough for our teeth to click together, my tongue deep in her mouth, stroking across the ridges of the roof. A moment later I broke away and worked her sweater over her head, tossing the bra away. Starting at her neck I licked and nipped my way down over her collarbone and chest before coming to her breast again. I rubbed my tongue over her nipple and she tasted so sweet and just a little salty. I don't know that I would have paid any attention to it if Fraser hadn't come into my life. Again, I pushed him out of my mind, closing my lips over her and drawing gently on the hardened peak.

"Oh! God, Ray," she gasped, her hand on the back of my head.

"Emily, Christ, you feel so good," I answered when I could.

I pulled back then and pulled my shirt over my head, then eased her over onto her back while I lay on my side next to her, my hand stroking randomly over her chest, breasts and belly. She just watched me, so lovely, firelight flickering over hair, painting it gold and red. I leaned over her again, putting my mouth to her neck and ear as she sighed against me. I unbuttoned her slacks, eased the zipper down, my hand sliding into her underwear to find...heaven. Or as close as I'm gonna get, here on earth. My fingers combed through soft curls, then further down to slick heat. Emily whimpered as I got my bearings; Jesus, it's been a long time since I've done this. My mouth found hers again and she quickly pushed her tongue inside, one hand on the back of my head, the other over mine, showing me what she needed. I was instantly thankful for a woman who wasn't shy about letting me know what she wanted. All on their own, my fingers found the right places, hard and soft, while she moved under them, sliding on them, setting her own pace. I throbbed right along with her, every heartbeat echoed in my own flesh, and I pushed into her hip. Her mouth pulled away from mine with a sobbing breath and I felt her contract around my fingers, surge against my thumb, and she was gone, back flexing, eyes squeezed shut. Her rough groan was music to my ears.

+++++

Lost in my thoughts, I didn't hear the airline agent approach until he was right beside me.

"Mr. Fraser!"

"Oh! Yes, sir." I jumped at bit at the intrusion.

"I seems we have a bit of a dilemma. We've contacted the hotel, and it seems that they do have a room available. But only one room." He explained, his hands twisting around themselves.

"Ahh, I see."

"Your name is first on the list, but well, Ms. Alton, being a woman and all..." he continued.

"Hm, yes, well, I can see the problem." While I was sympathetic to his plight, I saw that mine was now resolved.

Either one of us could take the room and I wouldn't have to endure the temptation of her proximity or we could take the room together and... I didn't dare hope.

"Well, let's go speak with L..., Ms. Alton, shall we? I'm sure we can come to some arrangement." I turned and walked back towards the lounge, the agent trailing me, barely keeping pace.

Lisa watched our approach with interest and met us.

"Ms. Alton. We've been able to arrange a room at the Hilton, next door, but unfortunately, they only have the one. I was telling Mr. Fraser, that while his name is first on the list, we, um, don't want to..."

"You should take the room," I broke in, a bit too loudly and they both stared at me, "I know it's well, um, considered sexist in this day and age, but..."

"Nonsense." She said quickly, looking at both of us, "I couldn't do that."

The agent and I both began talking at once, trying to convince her to change her mind, but I was quite sure of what she was going to say.

"Absolutely not. We'll both take the room. Is that agreeable, Ben?" She looked at me and I found myself unable to speak.

I nodded and the agent looked at us, no small amount of humor in his eyes.

"That would simplify matters. I'll, uh, just make arrangements. Someone will pick you up at door number 32, lower level. Apparently they have a four wheel drive vehicle of some type." He shook my hand, then Lisa's, "Have a pleasant stay."

He winked at me after Lisa had turned to get her bags and I raised my eyebrows questioningly in response. I didn't see any sense in encouraging his speculation.

Lisa had repacked her duffel and I reassembled my bedroll, tucking it under the flap of my knapsack and tightened the straps through the buckles. I settled it on my shoulders and picking up Lisa's bag, we made our way to the terminal exit. We said little to one another, both relieved to have a comfortable place to spend the night. I did, however, feel it necessary to make myself clear on several matters. When we'd gained one of the moving sidewalks, I turned to her.

"I want you to understand that I don't expect you...that is to say, um, well, you don't need too..." I couldn't find a genteel way to explain to her that I hadn't assumed that she'd sleep with me.

"Ben, please, don't worry so much," she smiled at me.

She might have reached out to touch me but she held her purse in one hand and a computer case in the other.

"But, uh, well, I assume then, that you aren't, er, involved, with anyone?" There, at least I seemed to be able to address one concern.

"No, not for some time now," her brows furrowed, "and I want you to know that this isn't... well, this is quite unusual for me. I don't want you to think that I, that this is something I take...lightly. I don't."

"Oh I, I wasn't under the impression that you did." I assured her, "I..." I cleared my throat, "I've never done anything quite like this." I found myself looking at the colorful advertisements on the walls.

"Well, that makes two of us then," she said, her voice soft, yet rough at the same time and I looked up to see a sadness in her eyes. "You're not involved with anyone either?" Still very quietly, as if she were afraid of my answer.

"No." Was all I said, and she nodded in confirmation.

We continued to the appointed place, finding, not surprisingly, that the car hadn't yet arrived. I stepped outside momentarily to confirm its absence. The bitter wind howled around me, peppering my exposed skin with snow and I put a hand on my hat to keep it from blowing away. A brief look was all that was required and I stepped back inside, fighting to open and then close the doors.

"Not here yet?" Lisa asked.

"No, though I expect it may take some time considering the severity of the storm." I replied, looking around for a place to wait comfortably.

The entire area was deserted and silent, the baggage machinery stilled. Finding nothing suitable, I turned back to Lisa, who held her hand out to me. I dropped our things and went to her. Taking her hand, I pressed my lips to it, as she had done to me before. When I released her, she placed it on my cheek, rubbed her thumb over my cheekbone. I made some small sound and her hand slipped around to the back of my neck, pulling me to her.

With her kiss, I felt the cold ache ease, just a bit, replaced by something hot and feral. Some primitive part of my brain, some ancient remnant, forced itself forward. I held her tightly, one arm around her shoulders, one at her waist, losing myself in the feel of her mouth. With some surprise, I realized that she was returning my kisses with equal force, her tongue sliding over the surfaces of my teeth, then holding my tongue between them as she sucked on it. Another, distant part of my body made its presence known, strongly, but I ignored it. Her hands were active, roaming across my back and shoulders, massaging first one spot, then another, until she settled a hand at the base of my spine and pressed steadily. Even through the layers of my uniform, I could feel her, fingers slowly flexing and releasing, sending heat racing along every nerve ending. Before I fully realized it, I was pressing myself against her. She moved against me and I heard myself groan at the contact. She relinquished my mouth only to move to my neck, trailing her lips and tongue across my skin. I shuddered, opened my eyes, to see a vehicle pull up in front of the doors and someone get out. We quickly gathered our things, braving the cold and wind, struggled to the vehicle. Lisa got in while I helped the chauffeur with the bags before climbing in myself.

+++++

"Mmmn, Ray, very nice. Very, very nice." She smiled up at me.

I was suddenly nervous, "It's, it's been a long time, Emily."

"Me too, Ray. But it doesn't seem to have done any harm," she slid her hand between us and traced me through my pants.

I gasped and smiled back, "Better watch it, that's loaded."

"I'll bet! I think it's time we did something about that," she giggled, then began to get up.

"What? Where're you think you're goin'?"

"I'll be right back. Just get out of these," she tugged at my slacks, then dropped hers and walked out of the room in only her panties, breasts swaying with each step.

I heard her go into another room, then return, as promised, fingers curled around something in her hand. Ah! Condoms. I hadn't been very sexually active since they'd become a necessity and I remembered a time when most women used the pill, relieving us men of all responsibility. Raised Catholic, I couldn't help but appreciate the irony. But there was no time for further reflection, as she dropped down beside me again.

"I thought I told you to lose those," she teased, her hands going to my waist, unbuckling my belt.

She unfastened and unzipped and I lifted my hips off the floor so she could slide the pants off my hips and down my legs. She cast them aside and put her hand on me, through my shorts, before stripping them off as well. She smiled as she looked at my erection, then took it in her hand, stroked it as he watched my face.

"God, Emily, I want you so bad it hurts." I told her.

My eyes were shut, but flew open at the feel of her mouth on me, her tongue lapping at the head. She smiled at me, then took me between her lips.

"Jesus Christ! God!" I cried out, the sensation overwhelming.

I watched for just a moment longer, then knew I had to stop her or this would be over way too soon.

"Emily, stop, God, stop!" I begged and she did, reaching for one of the packets.

She opened it, looked closely at the rubber, then rolled it on, stroking me while she did it, then lay on her back. She slipped her panties off and reached out for me.

I took a deep breath and rolled over, framing her head with my arms. Her legs drew up to cradle me, and I kissed her softly, looked into her eyes.

"You're sure?" I asked one last time.

"Mmm hmm, very," she breathed into my mouth and I felt her fingers on me, guiding me.

I pushed into her.

"Oh God," she sighed and she arched to meet me.

"Sweet Jesus, mother of God," I heard myself say.

She was hot, slick, taut and it was easy, so easy, to begin that long delicious slide. When I was all the way in, I just stayed there, wanted to stay there forever, inside the gentle grasp-release, grasp-release of her body. It wasn't to be. I needed to move, had to move and began the slow slide again.

"Oh, yeah, yeah, you feel so good," I whispered, her dark eyes glittering in the dying light of the fire.

"Damn, Ray, it's been so long..." she began, then moaned deep in her throat as she began to move with me.

She pulled her legs up, her heels on my hips and I plunged deeper still. Emily cried out, bit her lip and rose to meet me again, urgently. Christ, I'd hoped to draw this out, but I was fighting a losing battle. I felt a tingle begin at the base of my spine and knew the end was near. The ache in my balls had been replaced by a dull throb and I quickened the pace, hurtling towards the inevitable.

"God, oh, God!" Emily's voice was rough.

Her body arched under me, stiffening, her nails sharp on my shoulders as the grasp-release became a long sweet squeeze fading away to flutters. It was all I could take and I managed only a couple more thrusts before I threw myself after her, and I was coming, shaking with the force of it. It was a long few moments before my vision cleared and I found myself draped over her, her legs entwined around mine.

+++++

The drive to the hotel was slow, though it was only a matter of a couple hundred meters or so. I sat in the back, with Lisa, her hand hot on my thigh despite the frigid weather. At least the vehicle was warm. I cracked my neck to one side and took the hand in mine, unable to bear her touch there just now. I smiled at her by way of apology and she smiled back at me. The driver chattered at us, and we answered his inane questions. He finally pulled under a large portico and we were met by a bellhop who handled our baggage and directed us to the desk clerk.

"Good Afternoon. My name is Benton Fraser and this is Ms. Lisa Alton. We were told that you had a room available for us."

"Uh, yes, Mr. Fraser, Air Canada just phoned in your names. I'm glad we're able to accommodate you. If I could just see some identification?" she told us, though her eyes were on me.

Lisa and I both produced identification and the clerk had any concerns about our relationship, she made no comment.

"Thank you, if you'll both just sign these cards, I'll get your keys." She handed across two registration cards, then turned away to encode two keycards.

"I was asked to tell you that Air Canada is also picking up your meals during your stay. Unfortunately, between the storm and the holiday, most of the kitchen staff has left , but you can call room service and find out what's available. I'm sure something can be done." She collected the cards from us and passed across a folder.

"Room number 926. Just take these elevators to the ninth floor and it's down the hall to your left. Have good stay." She explained, then gave Lisa a pointed look.

We walked to the elevator without touching, without even looking at each other, pressed the button and waited. I looked at her out of the corner of my eye, and she was waiting calmly. The car arrived and we boarded; the trip was short and soon we stood outside the door of the room. I realized that I was perspiring, my hand trembled just a bit as I fitted the card into the slot. I withdrew the card but there was no sound of the lock releasing. I took a deep breath and tried again, this time the lock released. I opened the door and guided Lisa inside with a hand on her shoulder.

The door shut with a heavy thud, and I saw that our luggage had already arrived. I shed my pea coat, discarding it on a table, then turned to Lisa. The room was dark except for a single light, presumably from the bath, illuminating her from behind, her dark hair like an aurora around her shadowed face. I took her head between my hands and kissed her. I did my best to go about it slowly, but as the cold inside me abated, the heat I'd kept so carefully banked pushed its way to the surface. Fire flared, hot and feral and I prayed for understanding from the woman under my hands. I pushed my tongue deep into her mouth as I stripped her coat off her shoulders, then brought her hands over her head and held them high with one of mine, pressing her to the wall, stretching her taut against it. Her mouth answered mine and she bit at my lips, my tongue. My right hand slid down her side, flowing over her contours like water and it finally registered that I was hard as hell. God, I felt so desperate for her and all she offered me. I hoped she would forgive my urgency, but I found it impossible to slow down, ease back from her. The best I could do was to tear my mouth away and rest my cheek, panting against her hair for a moment.

"God, I'm sorry, Lisa, I don't want to...I can't stop," I gasped near her ear.

"I'm not asking you to, Ben." She breathed against my face, tilting her head back and stroking her tongue over my ear.

I groaned and pressed my hips into her, grinding that hardness into her belly. I found the hem of her sweater and slipped my hand beneath it, up, over the plateau of her ribs, making her shudder, before taking her breast into my hand. She tugged her hands free and used one to grab a handful of hair at the back of my head, drag my mouth down to hers. There was a moment of disorientation as I felt the power of her own arousal course through me, and some sort of low sound found it's way out of my throat. This felt so good, the cold held at bay by the combined force of our passion. My desire climbed to a new level, a level I can't ever recall experiencing before, something right and true about it in spite of its feral nature. It hearkened back to an ancient time, a time when strange and powerful magics existed in the world and I wondered, in an odd lucid moment, just how much it had to do with Lisa's own unique nature. The thought was tossed away as the next wave of arousal took me.

I pulled her away from the wall, unfastened her bra and pulled her sweater over her head taking the bra with it. Her hands were busy with my Sam Browne and I unfastened it for her, searching her eyes for any sign of reluctance as I fed the strap through the epaulet. It dropped to the floor with a thump, leather creaking and she unbuttoned the coat, pushed it off my shoulders as I loosened my tie and pulled it over my head. In hindsight it seems odd that no words passed between us, merely looks, nods, occasional moans, but words were unnecessary, we both had the same goal in sight. She helped me with my shirt and it was tossed aside with all the other accoutrements of duty and obligation. My undershirt was added to the pile and finally we were chest to chest, skin to skin, her breasts grazing over my ribs.

Lisa spread her fingers across my chest, then contracted them, her nails scraping against my skin, over my nipples and I let loose with a whimpering kind of sigh. I turned my attention to her breasts, taking their weight in my hands, my fingers closing over her tightened nipples. Her hands dropped down to my hips and pulled me tight against her as I tried to wedge my knee between her thighs. Her skirt was too tight to allow it and I impatiently reached down and gathered it up, pulled it high enough to part her legs and insert my leg. I dropped my head to her neck and licked and bit at it, pressing my teeth into the soft flesh, finally settling at the thick muscle at the base. She pressed herself into my leg and I into her hip and we rocked like that for a short while, her teeth traversing my collarbone.

I finally managed to pull myself away from her, tried to catch my breath. Lisa's eyes were dark and dilated with arousal and I felt her need as sharply as my own. She unzipped her skirt and dropped it, stripping hose and underwear off along with it before reaching for the fastening on my trousers. I felt suddenly lightheaded at her touch and I put my hands on the wall behind her as she let my pants drop. They slid unimpeded to the floor and my shorts soon followed the same path. I stepped out of them and kicked them away. She wrapped her arms around me, put a hand at the base of my spine again and I felt something surge though me. Electricity, passion, heat, pulsed through my nerves, my veins, and I heard a primal snarl. I bent and suckled at her breasts, plucked at her nipples with my lips and teeth while my hand ventured further down. She tilted her hips to allow me access and I found her well prepared, stroked my thumb over her and she cried out seeking further stimulation. Her hand found me, hot and hard, and she tightened her fingers around me making me gasp.

She slipped away from me suddenly and I collapsed against the wall. She returned only a moment later and pressed something into my hand before taking her place again. I chided myself briefly for not getting one myself, but what I had was buried deep within my pack and I was grateful for her preparedness. Her hand resumed its gentle caress of my aching member and I pulled away from her only long enough to apply the condom, then returned, taking her into my arms and pressing her against the wall again.

"Lisa, my God, I need this. Please...I'm sorry if... I don't know..." I stammered, before kissing her once more.

"Shh, Ben, there's nothing to be sorry for. I want this, need this, just as much as you do. Maybe more." she whispered, breaking away, then returning to my mouth, turning her head to the side and grasping my teeth with hers.

She released me and looked into my eyes as I lifted her, braced her against the wall and pushed into her far more roughly than I'd intended.

"God! Oh god, Ben, yes," she gasped, ending on a low moan.

Again, I experienced an odd echo of her pleasure as she raised her legs, hooking them over my hips, taking me even deeper. Her body pulled and dragged at me and I had no more control. Her arms locked around my neck as I pushed her roughly into the wall with my thrusts, hard, frantic and deep. Primitive instinct had taken over, her pleasure combining with mine to drive me forward, unrelenting. I felt her legs tighten on my hips and she moved against me, her own rhythm coinciding with mine, then she cried out and contracted around me, pulling me with her. I drove into her over and over again before finding my own release, its force and duration like nothing I'd ever experienced.

I lowered us to the floor as gently as I could, but I was exhausted and spent, the strain of supporting Lisa more than I should have attempted; we were fortunate that the carpet was thick. Lisa finally took my hand and encouraged me to stand, leading me to the bed, where we both collapsed, still breathless. Before long, we both slept.

+++++

Emily had reached up and snagged a throw to pull over us while I took care of the used condom. I pulled her to me, spoon fashion, so we could watch the dying fire. I supposed I should get up and put another log on the fire, but I couldn't bear the thought of moving any more than absolutely necessary. Emily's soft bottom was nestled nicely in my groin and her head was pillowed on my arm. My other arm wrapped around her waist, our fingers twined together.

"This okay with you?" I asked her, knowing that not everyone enjoys the full body contact I crave.

"Yeah, it's nice." Emily murmured, her speech already slurred with sleep.

I doubted things could get better. I mean good food, a good woman, a nice fire... Sometimes it is the simple things that make life worth living, ya know? Even while I basked in this nice fuzzy feeling, I wondered if Fraser ever felt this way. He never seems to miss this kinda thing, but it's not like he's the easiest guy to read. I hope he got out of town alright. He deserved some time away. I can't tell you if I was thinking of Fraser or just enjoying the feel of Emily in my arms when I fell asleep.

+++++

I awoke to the feel of something half draped over my back. I was sleeping on my stomach, which I rarely do, and something, someone, actually, covered my right side from shoulder to hip. Lisa, I remembered. I recognized the satiated feel of my body and knew that it hadn't been a dream. My breathing ceased for a short moment as I recalled what had transpired between us in the entryway. I almost seemed surreal, outside of normal time and space, and certainly out of character for me. It was almost as if someone else had done those things, taken her so frantically and suddenly. But the truth of it echoed through my skin and bones, the muscles of my back stiff from abuse. I was also nude which was unusual for me.

My first instinct was to leap out of bed, cover myself again in the clothing and demeanor that are so familiar. I stopped myself, however, reasoning that it would disturb Lisa, and possibly upset her as well. I turned over onto my back under her and she stirred as I pulled away a bit, then she settled against my side again. She opened her eyes and smiled at me, stroked her hand across my chest, then returned to sleep. I have to admit some relief. I wasn't quite sure what to say to her. I was ashamed at my loss of control. Wasn't I? Somehow shame wasn't the emotion I was feeling most sharply. The cold was gone, for now anyway, replaced by a gentle warmth that extended into every nerve and fiber of my being and I found I had no space left for regret and shame. Every detail of our heated coupling seemed burned into my memory. I'd never experienced anything quite so...intense, and I wasn't sure if it was her, or me, or simply our combination that had produced that result.

Lisa yawned, delicately somehow, and stretched against me, then tilted her head back to look at me.

"You okay?" she asked quietly.

Her eyes were soft and heavy-lidded, and I smoothed a strand of hair away from her face.

"Yes, quite well. And you?" I assured her, righting other wayward locks with my hand.

"Oh, yeah, wonderful, in fact," her hand slid down my side and her forearm connected with my responding genitalia.

I felt a flush begin to rise to my face, but she grinned at me and my embarrassment was replaced with pleasure as she explored me lazily with her hand. I closed my eyes and sighed as her fingers slid over the tip, but we were interrupted by a loud rumble from my stomach.

"Hah! I guess something else wants to be fed first." Lisa giggled, taking her hand away.

"Apparently." I spared a glance down at myself, already missing her touch as she left the bed.

"Why don't you call room service and see what they can get for us, while I get decent." She picked up her discarded clothing, then took some things from her duffel and made for the bath, "Is that alright?"

"Yes," I got out of bed and went to the phone, felt ridiculous standing naked with the receiver in my hand, my erection already subsiding to half-mast, "I think I can do that. What would you like?"

Her head popped out of the bathroom door, "I doubt we'll have much of a choice, Ben, but order a lot of whatever they have. I'm starved."

With a sly smile she closed the door and I did as I was told.

+++++

When I awoke, the fire had burned to embers and the room was dark. I also needed to pee, so I got up, carefully tucking the comforter around Emily.

"Ray, is everything all right?"

"Yeah, I'll be right back." I threw a couple logs on the dregs, poked them around a bit then found the bathroom.

I came back to find Emily adjusting my handiwork and I smiled. Fire-making obviously wasn't one of my talents. The dry wood caught and was soon was blazing away and we retreated to our nest. She curled up next to me and before long we were kissing and stroking each other again, but at a slower, more relaxed pace. Before long, her hand found my hard shaft, and began to tease me with a variety of hard and soft strokes. She sucked on my tongue, giving me a preview of things to come, before leaving my mouth and sliding down my body.

Leaning back onto the piled pillows, Emily met my eyes as she grazed my hipbone with her teeth, trailed her fingers through the wiry hair and grasped me at the base. I felt myself expand even more with a rush of blood and groaned my appreciation. She seemed pleased that her efforts were having the desired effect and took me into her mouth, her tongue busy on the underside of the head. My hips bucked towards her and I moaned loudly, but she was prepared and steadied me with a hand on my hip, continuing the sweet torment. She began to suck me with long slow strokes, and it was almost impossible not to encourage her to pick up the pace. It was with a deep ache I realized that I was on the verge of coming and wanted to draw this out more than that.

"Emily...Jesus...God, stop. Stop!" I panted, almost lost, already.

She crawled back up my body and I kissed her hard and deep, tasting myself in her mouth making me even hotter. I pushed her over onto her back and began my own exploration, my hand working its way slowly down to her warm, wet core. My mouth followed lazily, taking its time with the many distractions along the way. I stroked my tongue down the valley between her breasts, tiny beads of perspiration bursting salty-sweet in my mouth. I nuzzled a soft mound with my nose before taking a taut nipple into my mouth, smoothing over its pebbled surface with the flat of my tongue. Emily arched her back as I slid my fingers inside her, tightening a little at my intrusion, then relaxing as I began a gentle rhythm. I nibbled gently on her nipple, then moved on to the other before working my way further south.

She gasped when I put my lips to her opening, then slid my tongue up to the source of her pleasure. Using one hand to part her and the other resuming my strokes inside her, I licked and suckled, her responses guiding me. I soon discovered she preferred firm tongue strokes curving to the right and soon she was pressing her hips up towards me, breathy moans urging me on. It had been a really long time since I'd pleasured a woman this way, using only my mouth and hands, and I was delighted to find out that I remembered a thing or two. The feel of her under my tongue was indescribable. Firm, yet silky smooth, the rich heady taste and scent making me just that much harder in anticipation, but fulfilling just the same. Her hands found their way to my head, dancing across my scalp as she moved under me. I pulled my head away for just a moment

"Baby, come on, come for me, huh?" I asked her then blew my warm breath over her.

Emily cried out suddenly as I resumed my attentions.

"Oh, Ray, oh, God. Mmm hmm, just like that, yeah," she panted, quick and harsh.

I felt a new rush of wetness on my hand, her flesh swelling even more under my tongue, then she was coming, arching into my mouth and down onto my fingers, her hands grasping my ears almost painfully. I rode the wave of pleasure with her, bringing her down slowly, remembering to avoid contact with oversensitized nerves. I rested my head on her thigh as I stroked her legs and stomach with my hands.

"Ray?" I heard her ask quietly

"Uh huh?" I answered, my hands trembling with the force of her release and my own arousal.

"Need I say that was, um, fabulous?" her voice a bit stronger

"Well, it's always nice to hear," I said as I crept back up her body.

She took my face in her hands and kissed me softly, deeply, her tongue sweeping into my mouth to smooth over mine. Her hand reached past me for another condom and handed it to me. Pulling away, I put it on and was surprised when she rolled on her side, turning her back to me.

"Come here," she motioned, drawing her top leg towards her chest.

Still confused, I straddled her outstretched lower leg. Lifting her upper leg, she took me into her hand and guided me to her. I pushed myself deep inside.

"Oh, Christ, Emily." I groaned loudly as I steadied myself with one hand on her hip and the other on her bent leg.

She was incredibly tight, the friction and resistance, exquisite. I began moving and she moaned and pushed against me, taking me even deeper. I lost the power of speech as I stroked in and out of that incredibly tight, wet place, seemingly having the same effect on her. I leaned over and pushed her leg closer to her chest as I began to pant like a freight train. She had her head turned toward me and our eyes met, sharing our delight in each other. She touched my face.

"Oh yeah, Ray. God, yes, harder..." she ended on a gasp as I indeed pushed harder and deeper.

She got even tighter then and watched my face as I plunged into her. Her tongue emerged and licked her lips before they rounded and I felt her begin to contract rhythmically around me again. I watched the orgasm take her, doing my best to hang on until she returned. I knew she wanted to watch my face, too, as I came. She didn't have long to wait.

Again, I felt the tension gather at the base of my spine and deep in my groin.

"Mmmm, I'm gonna, oh yeah...," and I was lost, the release going clear to the center of my brain, head bowed forward, my body jerking and twitching with the force of it, her body drawing on my flesh.

I supported myself on my arms, leaning over Emily as I recovered, shaking my head, found her smiling at me.
"I, uh, take it that was good for you?" She panted, smiling.

"Oh, yeah. Mmm hhmm." I shifted my weight, withdrew, took care of things down there before enfolding her in my arms again.

+++++

Lisa emerged from the bath and I had taken my turn as well before our meal arrived. She'd dressed in her skirt again and a soft cotton pull-over, though she'd forgone the stockings and shoes. Similarly, I'd regained my shorts, uniform trousers and undershirt, hanging the rest of my uniform on the bar near the door.

Predictably, very little had been available from the limited kitchen staff, but sandwiches and some fruit had been sent along. The trays were placed on the small table and I signed the check, billing the meal to the room. Lisa and I took our seats across from one another and made our selections. We were both famished and for several long minutes, the only sounds were of chewing and swallowing.

"Would you like something to drink, Lisa?" I asked, noticing that I'd forgotten to order beverages.

"Oh, yeah, I would," she answered, looking around the room.

"There," she pointed at a cabinet in a corner, "Do you have the key?"

"Key? Ahh, I'll check." I knew there was nothing in my pants pockets, so I rose to check my coat.

I extracted the folder that had held the cards and found a small key and walked to the cabinet. I unlocked the door and opened the refrigerated compartment.

"What would you like? There's quite a selection here," I asked, taking a bottle of orange juice for myself.

"Um, is there any water?"

"Uh huh," I took it out and brought it to the table.

We resumed eating, but I noticed that Lisa kept glancing at me. I raised my eyebrows at her by way of a question.

"Are you okay, Ben? I mean, you've been very quiet," she inquired, the corners of her mouth turned up in a faint smile, but her eyes were anxious.

"Yes, well, I, uh," I stopped and cleared my throat, "I don't usually, that is, it isn't customary for me to...do things, like this...or uh..." I finished nervously, waving my hand towards the wall that was the scene of my crime, so to speak.

Her face softened and she dropped her eyes, "Well, I certainly don't either. I mean, I've never done anything like...well, like that."

She looked directly at me, then, "but it was... very ..."

"Yes, it was..." I answered quickly, "I hope I didn't hurt you."

"Hurt me? No," she colored, "I enjoyed it...a lot, Ben. But I think you know that."

It was my turn to blush, "Well, I wouldn't say it was my finest hour."

Lisa giggled. Quite an odd sound, actually, a rather musical set of tones ending on a rather unladylike snort, which seemed to bring on a fit of laughter. It was contagious and I found myself laughing along with her.

"If that wasn't your 'finest hour,' Ben Fraser, you'll be the death of me," she laughed and I joined her.

"Well, I don't think I'll be repeating it in any case. I think I strained my back," I confessed.

"Small wonder, Ben. Well, why don't we finish up here and get you into a hot shower. That should loosen you up some."

"Loosen me up?"

"Yeah," she picked up a strawberry and put it to her lips, biting the tip off, "your back muscles."

"Aaah," was all I could say as I watched her, fascinated.

She licked the bitten end of the strawberry, then sucked at it for a moment before taking another bite with her even white teeth. I never realized quite how arousing food might be until this meal. Once she finished with the strawberry, she selected a cherry, plucked it off its stem with her teeth, then held it between her lips momentarily before taking it in and chewing it. She extracted the pit from her mouth with her fingers. I took an orange, peeled it, and separated a segment and held it out to her across the table. She took it, along with my fingers, into her mouth, stroking the pad of one with her tongue. I felt myself responding to this erotic display, the feel of her mouth sending tingles down my spine. I withdrew my fingers and collapsed against my seat as she chewed and swallowed.

She got up and came around the table and took my hand. When I didn't rise as she expected, she looked back, leaned over and kissed me softly.

"Come on, let's take care of those sore muscles," was all she said.

She led me to the bathroom and started the water, testing the temperature, then turned and undressed me, gently and efficiently, folding my trousers and placing them on the counter. While I was somewhat uneasy about showering with a woman, another part of me removed her clothing in the same efficient manner. I was unable to stop myself from brushing the backs of my hands across her breasts and she looked up and smiled at me.

"Get in, I'll be right back," she said as she drew the shower curtain and started the spray.

I did as she wished, unable to find any reason not to, and let the warm stream pour over my head and shoulders. I twisted and stretched my lower back in the warm water and before long, I heard Lisa return, shutting the bathroom door behind her. She stepped into the tub with me, holding a bottle of shampoo. I found myself snapping to attention at her entrance. She flipped up the cap and poured a small amount into her hand.

"Lean down a little." She told me and I tried to relax and bent toward her.

She rubbed the shampoo into my hair, massaging my scalp with her strong fingers. It felt heavenly and I felt my shoulders relax.

"Mmm, that's nice." I murmured.

"Good, now straighten up."

I was more than a little surprised when she used her soapy hands to wash my chest and back, slowly working her way down my body. When she got to my waist, I stopped her, put my hands on her shoulders and pulling her close, exchanged places with her and tilted her head back into the spray, wetting her hair. I poured shampoo into my hand and applied it to her scalp, massaging it as she had mine, before working it through the rest of her hair. I rinsed it then, fascinated by the silky feel and weight of it in my hands.

She pressed herself close to me then, wrapping her arms around my waist. Her breasts flattened against my chest as she kneaded my strained back muscles and I felt myself stiffen against her belly. Her hands swept down over my rear then back up my sides and she indicated I should turn away from her. Unsure, I turned my back to her and she put her palms on my back where they seemed to grow warm. That warmth passed into me, easing the tension and ache in my spine. After a moment, she placed her hand over the puckered flesh of the bullet wound that was a constant reminder of my folly.

"The bullet's still there?" she asked quietly.

"Yes. How did you know?" I was too relaxed to be terribly surprised.

"It's hotter here than other places. Inflammation, most likely."

"No, I mean how did you know it was a bullet wound?" I reiterated.

"Oh, well, you are a cop and it's certainly not a surgical site. What else would leave a deep circular scar like that? No mystery in that," she answered logically.

She smoothed her hands over my back several times, then passed her hands around to my chest and stomach, pressing herself against my back, her contours molding to my own. I let out a breath I hadn't known I was holding and covered her hands with mine as I marveled at just how good she felt against me. My nerve endings were alive with sensation, doubt and uncertainty fading away as my desire for her grew with every moment. My affection for her grew as well, for this woman who'd seen the depths of my passion and uncertainty and answered so generously with her own passion, freely given.

Her hands trailed down my body, soon finding the evidence of that desire. Her touch was gentle, but firm, and very pleasurable. At my throaty groan, her hands on my hips turned me and I saw her ease herself down to kneel in the tub at my feet, the spray directed on her shoulders . I was moved, but not so much by anticipation of pleasure, but pain and when she touched her lips to me, I pulled back involuntarily with a wordless cry.

"Ben, what's wrong?" she looked up at me with alarm on her face.

"Um, someone...hurt me, this way," I managed.

I'd never told anyone about what Victoria had done. At the time, I'd thought it accidental, but after the events had played out, I'd had long hours to revise that assumption. Sometime during our second day together, she'd been pleasing me in just this way, drawing out my moment of release for maximum effect. Finally, when that moment was reached, she'd raked her teeth across the underside of the exposed glans and sublime pleasure was replaced by searing agony, my rigid body contracting violently from the pain. My only consolation was that my knee had connected rather forcefully with her head as I'd moved to protect myself. I was quite surprised, and relieved, to find that she hadn't drawn blood.

"A woman hurt you?" I heard Lisa say, interrupting my thoughts.

"Yes." I answered her, surprised that she hadn't moved.

"Intentionally?" she ventured, her voice tentative.

"I believe so." I looked down at her, my erection had faded considerably.

"I'm sorry, Ben." She murmured, stroking my hips and thighs with her hands.
Lisa pressed kisses to my thighs and hipbones, gentle kisses that were punctuated with swipes of her tongue. Slowly my erection returned, but still she didn't touch my penis with her mouth and only occasionally with her hands. I closed my eyes, willing myself to trust her, feeling myself become increasingly aroused. I was vacillating between begging her to touch me and pulling her to her feet to make love to her when I felt the first touch of her tongue, so light it was barely perceptible. It seemed like an eternity that she merely lapped at me, carefully avoiding the most sensitive areas, her hands constantly stroking and caressing my hips, thighs and rear. For long moments, the only sounds in the room where the sound of the water and my sighs and moans.

It was purely by chance that I looked down at her the same moment that she took me shallowly into her mouth. I fought a brief moment of panic revisited and concentrated on the feel of her lips and tongue, giving myself over to those sensations and the passion I could feel building in me again. As she began to take me deeper, I took her hands and drew her up against me. Taking care as she released me, she rose and I kissed her, one hand on her neck and the other stroking down her side, around her back and over her rounded bottom. She welcomed my tongue into her mouth as I deepened the kiss, finally leaving her mouth for her neck and throat. When I set my teeth against her pulse point, she arched against me and I pulled her close before I began my own descent.

Her nipples were large, hard, and perfect as I suckled at them, dragging gasps from her throat. I pulled her hips tight to me and turned us around, the spray now at my back, before kneeling before her, my face resting against her belly. I wanted to show her just how much I'd appreciated her understanding, and silence, on the subject of my injuries. I sat back on my heels and drew her closer before burying my nose into the juncture of her thighs. She raised one leg over my shoulder, resting her foot on the rim of the tub and she was opened to me. I feasted on her varied tastes and textures, her hand flexing on my head as she gave voice to her pleasure. I soon learned what pleased her best and after a short time she trembled and cried out as she held me tight against her.

Lisa turned and leaned against the wall while I turned off the water. We toweled off and I took her hand, leading her to the bed, where I lay down on my back. She curled up beside me, but I urged her to lie on top of me.

"You want me on top?" she smiled, her eyes darkened with emotion.

"Yes, I do. I want to see you, Lisa." I replied, handing her one of the condoms that I'd left on the bedside table.

"You do, huh?"

She straddled my legs and applied the condom, then moved up and took me inside her body.

"God, Ben, you feel so good," she moaned, rocking gently until I was buried completely.

"I could say the same thing," I answered, fighting for control, determined to be gentler this time.

"Hmmm, do I?" she said in a way that told me she was only half aware of speaking.

Her head was cocked to one side, wet hair hanging loosely, her eyes closed and I imagined that I could feel her pleasure building again, gentle contractions deep within, slowly growing stronger. Lisa tucked her feet under my thighs and she moved slowly, deeply over me, on me, as a look of concentration crossed her face. I smoothed my hands up her legs to where we were joined and touched her, felt her tighten around me and continued the small motion. Her head fell back, her breasts swaying gently as she moved against me.

"Ben, this is so good, so good, yeah, oh, oh..." she cried out and drove against me hard, the intense sensation I felt almost taking me with her.

She fell forward and rested against my chest as I stroked her back, deeply grateful that I'd been able to give her this pleasure. A few minutes later, Lisa freed her right foot, placed it next to my waist and smiled down at me. She made a tiny movement that was magnified a hundred times in my body as I was squeezed tightly, then released. She repeated the motion, more strongly this time and I gasped and looked at her again.

"God, Lisa..." but I had no words to continue.

She slowly increased both the tempo and depth of her movements and I felt myself begin to match her rhythm. I soon reached a blissful point where her pleasure and mine became blurred, hanging in that intensely pleasurable moment immediately preceding release. Suspended on the cusp of oblivion, I could almost see myself, whimpering, sweating, driving relentlessly towards the end. I heard Lisa murmuring soft words of encouragement and I arched off the bed, lights flashing brightly behind my eyes. My own rough voice echoed in my ears, wave after wave of sensation crashing over me.

+++++

Emily and I lay curled together in front of the fire as it slowly burned to embers talking quietly. She told me about her family and I told her about mine as well as how I'd come to be stranded alongside the highway. Exhaustion eventually won out and she led me to her bedroom. The air seemed cold after basking in the warmth of the fire, but the thick flannel sheets felt heavenly against my skin. Emily slid into the bed next to me, stretched out and cuddled up to me.

While Emily drifted off quickly into a well-earned sleep, I lay awake for awhile. The unfamiliar bed keeping me from dropping off right away, I just listened to her breathe, her heartbeat. It'd been forever, a lifetime it seemed, since I'd actually slept with a woman. Yeah, there'd been a few one-night stands and false starts since Angie, but nothing like this. Nothing like the practically instantaneous spark of attraction between us or the absolutely incandescent way I'd felt while making love to her. I could get used to this.

+++++

The last thing I remember before falling into a deep sleep was Lisa tidying up before laying down next to me. I kissed her and enfolded her in my arms, recalling nothing more.

I slept soundly, more soundly in fact, than I had in a long time. I attributed it to post-coital relaxation and sheer exhaustion.

The digital clock displayed the time as 7:10 AM in bright red letters. This time, I felt little unease or embarrassment upon awakening. Quite to the contrary, my body was prepared for a repeat performance. Lying on my side, Lisa pressed tightly against me, I rubbed my erection against the soft skin of her bottom. She moaned softly and moved against me, the sensation tantalizing me. My hand flowed over the curve of her waist and hip, then moved up to cradle her breast. The nipple tightened at my touch and I rolled it gently between my fingers, eliciting a sigh from Lisa as she rubbed against me again. Arousal flared within me yet again, my sense of smell, touch and taste sharpening with it. I could smell the musk of her own arousal, sweet and heavy between us and I felt my blood rushing to my groin in response. Her breathing quickened under my hand as she reached for a condom on the nightstand and handed it to me. Moving her hair aside, I put my lips to the side of her neck, sliding up to suckle at an earlobe before moving down to her shoulder. I made use of the condom while she shifted her upper leg to ease my entry.

Lisa drew her legs up, simultaneously tilting her hips towards me, holding me deep within her. My heartbeat was echoed in my buried flesh and I felt her body respond in kind. Heat flared, extended through every nerve and muscle, setting up a pleasant buzz inside my skull. I groaned and setting my teeth against her shoulder, I began to move in her, slowly, steadily...deeply. She shuddered and moaned my name as I wrapped my arm around her hips, pulling her into me. Her body clasped and drew on mine as she pressed into me more forcefully.

"Lisa, Lisa, let go...please...oh, yes..." I whispered into her ear.

"God...Ben, just a little...oh, yeah, like that..." she ended with a quiet shout as she rocked hard against me.

Her release seemed endless and I rode it out with her, holding her tight and nuzzling her neck as she shuddered. When the contractions had faded to flutters, I withdrew, lay her back and rose over her, the need to see her surpassing my body's urgent desire for release. I supported myself on my forearms and her legs bracketed my waist as I resumed making love to her. Whether from my recent activity level or the brief interruption, some semblance of control had been returned to me.

I claimed Lisa's mouth in a deep leisurely kiss, our tongues mirroring my movements below. Her kiss pulled me towards release and I moved more urgently against her. Her hands trailed down my back and sides until one grasped my hip and the other rested in the small of my back. Lisa nipped and nuzzled at my throat and collarbone, her soft sighs spoken into my ear. Stretching my arms up next to her head, a languid ease came over me. My urgent, frantic movements slowed as I relaxed. I looked deep into her eyes as I made love to her, a different kind of love, no longer so needy and desperate. It was if I was trying to convey my feelings of appreciation, thanks and yes, love, of a sort, with my body. A perfect rhythm of sorts had been achieved and we moved together, her body rising to meet mine as I rocked into her. I felt a bead of sweat trickle down my spine and realized that my physical endurance was at an end.

"Lisa...you, ready?" I gasped, hoping she understood my meaning.

"Yeah, Ben...you gonna come?"

"Mmm huh," I nodded, feeling my climax gathering like summer stormclouds.

I felt Lisa's body flex and grasp at mine and I realized, by looking at her face, that it was for my benefit. I took a deep breath then another, and my climax crashed through me like thunder that rolled on and on before finally fading away.

Lisa held me tightly as I recovered, her fingers combing through my hair. When I began to move off of her, she held me in place.

"Shh, no, not yet," she whispered.

"I don't want to crush you," I explained, but remained.

"You're not. I like the feel of your body on mine," she smiled at me, ending with a swipe of her tongue over my lips.

"Hmm, well, nice as it is, I do have to get up..."

"You do?"

"Yes, I really do," the pressure on my bladder steadily increasing.

She kissed me again, releasing me and I made my way to the bathroom.

As I stood there, reflecting upon my rather remarkable holiday, I wondered if Ray had returned home safely. I chastised myself for not thinking of it sooner, absorbed as I had been in Lisa's considerable charms.

++++++++++++++++++

When I finally woke up, Emily was gone, but I could smell coffee brewing. I hurried to the bathroom but soon realized that my clothes were still in the living room. Looking around for something to cover myself with, I found a bathrobe hanging on the hook behind the door, but pink just isn't my color. I finally decided on a bath towel and snugged it around my waist. Catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror I decided I looked pretty good, all things considered. I sure as hell looked more relaxed. I left the bathroom and snuck into the living room, finding my clothes folded on the couch, all other evidence of our tryst cleared away.

Dressing quickly, I made my way to the kitchen. I stopped in the doorway, suddenly afraid that Emily had regrets about sleeping with me. God knows, I had none, but sometimes the light of day makes things look different. Emily turned around.

"Morning, Ray. Sleep well?" she tried to hide her uncertainty with a smile.

"Great, Emily. I can't remember the last time I slept that well," I walked over to her and stroked my hand across her cheek, then kissed her.

I groaned thankfully as my kissed was returned, morning breath or not.

"Mmm, thank you, Emily," I whispered into her ear, holding her close.

"What for? For sleeping with you?" She whispered back, then smiled at me, her eyes sparkling with good humor.

"Well, no, not exactly...for rescuing me, and for feeding me and..." I left off, not knowing quite how to continue.

"You're welcome, Ray and thank you,"

"What're you thankin' me for?"

"For being a gentleman...and for being a great lover," she said, her cheeks coloring.

"Hey, my mama raised me right, oh God! I'd better call Ma," I reached for the phone and dialed quickly.

"I hope to God it wasn't your mother that taught you that stuff," Emily joked as the phone rang at the other end.

++++++

"Good morning, this is Benton Fraser, could I speak to Ray, please?" I asked Francesca, who'd answered the telephone

"Ah, I see...no, I didn't, the flights were cancelled," I simplified after she'd finished with her rather lengthy explanation of Ray's situation.

"Um, no, the airlines very generously has provided accommodations until flights resume," I answered her, not wanted to get terribly specific regarding said accommodations.

"Bored, uh, no, I have plenty...of ...reading to occupy me," I, well, I didn't exactly lie, but I really didn't want to make my assignation known to the entire Vecchio household.

"Well, I'll just call him on his cellular telephone, then..." I began to bring the call to a close.

"Oh, okay," I took down the number she gave me on the little notepad provided by the hotel, "Thank you kindly, Francesca...yes, you too...goodbye."

"Trouble?" Lisa asked me, lounging in a chair at the small table.

"Yes. Well, not exactly trouble...Francesca's a bit..." I realized that she wasn't asking about her, "Oh! No, no, no, it seems, that my friend, Ray, wasn't able to get home either. He was rescued by a passing motorist. She gave me the number."

I dialed the number Francesca had given me, watching Lisa as she applied lotion to her arms and legs, an activity that I found quite stimulating.

++++++

"Hello," a female voice answered.

"Hello, my name is Benton Fraser. I'm looking for Ray Vecchio, his sister told me..."

"Yes, he's here, just a moment,"

I heard voices in the background.

"Hello?" Ray said, sounding both surprised and curious.

"Ray!"

"Benny? You calling from Toronto?"

"No, the flight was cancelled due to the weather. I called your house and your sister told me that you'd been stranded as well." I explained.

"Yeah, the Riv's in a ditch. Luckily, Emily, uh, Ms. Johnson, found my and took me in." Ray's voice took on a peculiar tone when speaking Emily's name.

"Ah, I see. I'm very sorry that you weren't able to have Thanksgiving with your family, Ray. I know it's important to you," I apologized, feeling responsible for his misfortune

"It's ok, Benny, really. I just had Thanksgiving here, instead. Emily's a pretty good cook, herself," Ray said, then I heard a distinct yip from him.

"You bet your sweet Italian ass I am," I heard a woman's voice say quietly but distinctly.

I looked briefly the receiver, surprised at what I'd overheard.

"Ray?" I paused, trying to think of an appropriate way to phrase my next question.

"Yeah,"

"Oh, uh...I see," I cleared my throat needlessly, "you and Ms. Johnson, have um...embarked upon, er, a personal relationship then."

I was surprised at my interest in Ray's personal...affairs. I must be more relaxed than I thought

"That would be correct, Benny," Ray sounded amused.

"Ah,"

"So I 'spose you're stuck at the airport, huh?" the Chicago cop asked, sounding a bit guilty that I was stranded and alone, while he'd been enjoying himself with a woman.

"No, no, Air Canada found us a room at the Hilton," I said.

"Us? What us?" Ray pounced on my faux pas like a wolf on a vole.

"Oh! Well, those of us that couldn't get on the flight, Ray." I tried to sound non chalant, but my voice gave me away.

"Ah, I see," Ray had clearly decided that two could play the 'Ah' game, "so all you poor people are sharing one room? That's gotta be pretty crowded, I imagine."

I looked at Lisa who was just managing to stifle a giggle.

"Well, no, it's not really..."

"So how many people we talkin' about here, 10?" Ray goaded.

"Um, well I think that many people in one room would violate the fire code..." I realized that he was enjoying this little exchange.

"God forbid you violate the law, Fraser. How about four? Four people share rooms all the time," Ray asked.

"No, Ray," Lisa gave me a questioning glance.

"Ahhh, Benny, you tryin' to tell me that you're shacked up in a hotel room with a woman?"

I considered how to answer him.

"Well, I wouldn't put it quite that way..." I felt myself wince a bit.

I really didn't like to think of what I and Lisa had shared in such crude terms.

"Really? I mean, really," Ray had been half-teasing me with his speculation, "that's, uh, great Benny."

+++++++++++

A tiny spark of worry lit in my brain. The last woman Fraser'd been with had nearly destroyed us both. The thought was extinguished with happiness for such an isolated man. Benny could be an island unto himself even while surrounded by the Chicago crowds. I hoped to hell that this woman treated him with the care and understanding he deserved.

++++++++++++++

"Yes, well, uh," I tried to think of a reply, "Ms. Alton is a...quite extraordinary."

+++++++++++++

'She must be, to get you out of that uniform,' I thought, but kept it to myself. Benny seems a little touchy on the subject.

+++++++++++++

"I'm sure she is, I can't wait to meet her. So you two going to go on to Toronto together, then?"

"We haven't discussed that," I realized that very little had been discussed in the last eighteen hours, "but that's one possibility. I suppose it depends on when then flights are resumed."

"Yeah, that makes sense. So you guys just going to hang out there until you hear something?"

"That would seem to be our only option at the moment. I assume you'll remain with Ms. Johnson?"

"Yeah, for the time being. I'd better call into the station when I hang up from you. I gotta have Jerry over at the motor pool rescue the Riv. He's got the touch when it comes to towin' cars. Can't have just anyone pull her out. What's your number there? If it clears up maybe we can get together." >>
I gave Ray my number at the Hyatt and hung up, sitting down across from Lisa, I made a few selections from a breakfast tray of pastries and fruit.

"I take it your friend is all right?" Lisa asked.

"Oh, yes," I thought for a moment and smiled, "In fact, he sounded very...contended."

"Contented as in...like we're contended?"

"Yes, that would seem to be the case," I answered, then added after a moment, "Lisa, do you have pressing business in Toronto?"

"Not really. I was just going to do a little sightseeing over the holiday, maybe do some shopping. Why?" She said.

"I was just wondering if you'd consider staying in Chicago rather than continuing on," I found it hard to meet her eyes, afraid of her answer.

"Well, don't you have business in Toronto? Or family?"

"Not really. I mean I have no family left, my father died two years ago. I was just a little, well, homesick, that's all." I replied, realizing that I wasn't homesick in the least now.

"So, where are you...um, stationed?" she asked me.

"Posted, actually. Right here, in Chicago. I came here on the trail of the killers of my father, and well, it's a bit complicated, but I've remained here as a liaison officer at the Canadian Consulate."

"And what, exactly, does a liaison officer do?"

"Mostly administrative duties, but I also coordinate with the Chicago P.D., FBI and ATF on cases of mutual interest." I was looking at the way her hair flowed around her shoulders, surprised by the depth of feeling I felt for her.

"Hmm, sounds interesting. And Ray. He's a cop too?" She looked up at me from across the table, peeling an orange.

"Uh huh, Chicago Police Department. He's my partner. And it's not always interesting. Most of the time it's pretty dull, actually. Not at all like my previous postings," for some reason I didn't want her to think of me as merely a bureaucrat.

"Really? What were your previous postings like?" Lisa licked some juice from her fingers, reminding me of a cat.

"Well," I swallowed a bit of danish that Dief would have appreciated, "Generally, remote outposts in the Yukon and Northwest Territory."

"Wow. Talk about cold. This must seem like springtime to you, then. But why there?" she asked, searching his face.

"Yes it is cold, but it's my home...where I'd prefer to be..."

"Oh, you're not happy here? Can't you ask for a transfer or something?"

"Well, I've adjusted...am adjusting," I myself smile, "and I've made friends, so I wouldn't say that I'm unhappy, really, but I do miss home sometimes. I, uh, well, my father was a Mountie and...it's complicated. He'd uncovered a conspiracy regarding a damn; one of his superiors was involved. When he threatened to expose the conspiracy, he was killed. I tracked the hired killer here, to Chicago, and turned in the officer responsible."

Lisa got up from her chair and walked around the table towards me. I pushed away from the table so she could sit in my lap.

She brushed her lips lightly against mine, "So you were sort of exiled here. Not entirely your own choosing."

"No, not entirely," I laced my fingers into her hair with one hand, the other on her hip, steadying her, "but I've made some good friends here...and I've learned a great deal."

I searched her eyes and breathed in her scent. Her hand on the back of my neck warmed me. I would have liked to take her back to bed, but I also knew that I wouldn't be able to...perform for some time yet. Belatedly, I wanted to get to know her better.

"Hmm, well I'm a southern California girl, myself. Don't have much experience with the cold. Except for skiing, that is." Her fingers combed through my hair, her lips close enough to kiss.

I held myself back from making contact, in spite of my escalating heart and breath rate. She felt wonderful in my arms.

"So, uh, what is it that you do? For employment, I mean," her proximity made me tongue tied.

"I'm an actuary for an company that insures motion pictures."

"Ah, is it interesting work?" I asked.

"Sometimes. When things go wrong, it can be," she answered quietly, nuzzling at my ear.

A loud sigh left me as her lips and tongue moved down my neck and my arms tightened, holding her against my chest. Just because it was too soon to go back to bed didn't mean we couldn't enjoy the journey.

++++++++++++

Sunday came far too quickly for us. While we'd had the opportunity to get out of the hotel by Saturday afternoon, we decided to stay in. Ray and Emily, with the assistance of her four wheel drive, managed to come by on Saturday evening and the four of us had dinner at the hotel. Ray was predictably cool towards Lisa, but she took no offense and soon had won him over. Emily and Lisa seemed to enjoy each other's company as well, chatting quietly between themselves, occasional laughter punctuating their voices. I suspect it was at Ray's and my expense. Ray looked happier and more relaxed than he'd been in a long time. Apparently she'd made quite an impression on Ray's family when they'd met her earlier the same day.

I walked Lisa to her gate at the airport. As hard as it was, I knew she had to go and I owed it to her to give her a proper send off.

"Lisa...I...uh," I blew out my breath, "I can't thank you enough..." and felt my face flush.

"No, thank you Ben," she put her hand on my cheek, "Uh, do you have any plans for that plane ticket?"

I looked at her blankly. What ticket?

"The ticket to Toronto," she supplied.

"Oh yes! Um, I hadn't given it any thought."

"Well, I'm pretty sure that Air Canada would be willing to exchange it for a ticket to L.A," Lisa looked away, her eyes suddenly tearing, "Might you consider...I mean if you don't have any plans, that is...well, you could come to Los Angeles for Christmas."

I recognized her fear of rejection. She looked at the floor, the boarding doors, anything but at me. I knew how much her invitation cost her, taking the chance that I wouldn't want to see her again. I reached out and turned her face to me with my fingers on her chin.

"I'd like that, Lisa. I'll be there, whatever the airline decides," I enfolded her in my arms, rubbing my cheek on her hair.

It was so painful to let her go, but my heart was lighter for the knowledge that I'd see her again in a few weeks. We'd already exchanged telephone numbers and addresses, Lisa commenting that she'd yet to meet a man who fulfilled his promise to correspond. I vowed to myself to do my best to change her mind on the subject. Then, when the final boarding call was announced, we kissed each other goodbye one last time and I watched her disappear down the jetway.

When I turned and walked away I felt curiously lighthearted. I composed my first letter to Lisa as I made my way home. I believe I still have quite a few sick days accrued.