Christmas Eve Tale
by Pic
Rated: A
Pairing: Victor Mansfield/OFC (Het fic, run for your lives)
Spoilers: Minor for Once A Thief
Summary: Victor has to work on Christmas Eve.
Disclaimer: Recognizable characters aren't mine.
Disclaimer: This story is my Christmas effort for 2002 as a gift for a variety of people including all of my usual betas, so this has had no eyeballs but my own on it-you have been warned). And, for once, the Christmas story has something of a Christmas theme. Will wonders never cease? Merry Christmas to all.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Why me? What about Mac or LiAnn?"
The Director raised a pristine plucked eyebrow. "If I believed this assignment was more appropriate for Mac or LiAnn, they would be here rather than you." Tilting her Santa hat at a rakish angle, the Director ordered, "Drink your eggnog."
"I don't like eggnog."
"That's too bad," the Director said, as she moved from behind the conference table to reveal the black stockings and red stiletto heels that accompanied the hat and her obscenely short, impossibly tight, white fur trimmed red dress. "It might put you in a Christmas mood. I mean, really, Victor, it's Christmas Eve. If not now, when?"
"What's the point? I have to work."
"Look on the bright side. You'll be inside, warming your hands in front of a wood burning fire with someone to talk to."
"Guard duty is babysitting, no matter how you dress it up." Victor frowned, reaching down to check the small gun he kept in his boot. "I bet even assassins have the night off. Her regular bodyguard evidently does."
The Director sighed. "Ms. Carroll's regular bodyguard is in the hospital. You'll be spelling another agent of ours."
"Great."
"Run along, Victor." The Director waved her hand in dismissal. "Don't disappoint me."
~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~
"Thanks for the tour, Evan," Victor said, shaking the offered hand. "It looks like you've got everything under control."
The blonde, blue-eyed, probably-unable-to-grow-a-beard-yet security man shrugged. "I've done everything I can with an unlimited equipment budget, but there's nothing like experience and firepower if something goes wrong." After a brief pause, he said, "I'll be in the command center manning the monitors if you need anything."
"Somebody have you memorize that?" Victor asked. "The `there is no substitute' bit."
A hint of annoyance crossed Evan's face. "Alan guards his turf." Gesturing to the door to their left, Evan said, "Ms. Carroll's in the parlor. She almost always has her post-dinner cocktail in there."
The abruptness of the subject change inspired Victor to say, "Alan guards more than his turf if he's in the hospital."
"I guess."
Victor stared after Evan, wondering at the younger man's puzzlement. Steeling himself for anything from a precocious eighteen year old to a dowager matron with a few rolls of his shoulders, Victor knocked on the sturdily constructed door.
"Come in."
At least she sounds sober. That's something. Victor entered and stopped just inside the door to let his eyes adjust to the illumination of a single reading lamp, moonlight streaming in the windows and the roaring fire. As he had been throughout the house, Victor was impressed by the simplicity and elegance of the dcor. This was a home, not a showplace, despite its size and the funds expended to fill it.
"You must be Victor."
His, "Yes, ma'am," was automatic.
A dramatic groan drew Victor's attention to the woman curled up in a large, overstuffed armchair. His first impression was of flowing, slightly disheveled red hair and bright blue eyes shining out of pale, flawless skin.
"My name is Kaitlin, not ma'am," she said. "Didn't your Director tell you even that much?" When Victor shook his head, she added, "That woman holds her cards so close to the vest; it's a wonder she can bring herself to play any." Seeing his stunned surprise, Kaitlin hastened to add, "Forgive me, Victor. I meant no disrespect; it's just that I find excessive secrecy nnecessarily trying under the most egregious of circumstances. Which these aren't."
Taking a step forward as Kaitlin stood, Victor noted the loose, dark-colored silk tunic that fell almost to her knees and matching pants. Five foot five or six. 110 or so pounds. Mid to late twenties. Most likely of Irish descent. In her pajamas at nine o'clock on Christmas Eve. Why is such a pretty woman alone tonight? Pretty? Yeah, pretty. Not exotic or predatory, but definitely worth a second look. And why not? It's not like I get any interest from the exotic or predatory women in my life. Determined to turn his thoughts from how long it had been since he and LiAnn had been intimate, Victor said, "Most people think death threats are serious."
"Most people haven't lived with them since pre-school."
Who is this woman, anyway? Kaitlin Carroll. Carroll? Where've I heard-? Feeling slow and stupid and cursing the Director for withholding salient information, Victor sighed. Lucas Carroll defends virtually every high profile criminal in Canada. Gets a lot of them off, too. "Lucas is your .?" he asked.
"Uncle." Smiling wryly, Kaitlin said, "The largest human impediment to a proper working Canadian legal system has his share of enemies. His friends, as a rule, don't think much more highly of him, unless they're under indictment."
This is starting to make a certain amount of sense. "You know the Director through him," he mused aloud.
"No."
"No?"
"Light the lamps on those end tables so I can see you."
Even though his eyes had adjusted to the dimness, giving him the advantage, Victor complied. His curiosity shifted into high gear. "How did you meet the Director?" he asked.
"She tried to recruit me."
Victor narrowed his eyes, examining Kaitlin more critically. She fits the mole profile. Young, attractive, well placed to provide information about her uncle or his client base.
Kaitlin's chuckle drew Victor from his thoughts. "I don't have to ask why she recruited you," she said, grinning mischievously.
Off balance, he blurted, "Do I look that much like an ex-cop?"
"You look like the boy next door all grown up."
"I do not!"
"You do. Especially when you bite your lower lip like that."
"Boys next door don't do the things I've done."
"Oooooh," she sighed, taking Victor's arm and gesturing with her beverage toward the couch. "Come over here and tell Kaitlin all about it."
Sitting with as much dignity as he could muster, Victor grumbled, "I can't. It's classified."
Effortlessly comfortable, Kaitlin flopped down next to him. "I don't care about your work. Who shot whom and why is a bit dull if you aren't there to see it. Tell me about the sex."
Jaw dropping, Victor managed, "The . the what?"
"The sex," she repeated. Victor's mind froze and his tongue wisely didn't forge ahead on its own. "C'mon," Kaitlin coaxed, "take off your jacket and stay a while. I'll get you a glass of wine and you can confess all."
Eyes following Kaitlin to the bar at the far corner of the room, Victor slipped off his leather jacket and tossed it on the end table. What the fuck is she talking about? What did the Director tell her about me?
When Kaitlin returned, proffering wine, Victor shook his head. "I can't. I'm working," he muttered.
"No you're not," Kaitlin said, placing his full glass and the rest of the bottle on the antique coffee table. "I'm hearing your confession."
"I've got nothing to confess, Kaitlin."
She laughed. "Do you seriously expect me to believe that your Director hasn't had her wicked way with you?"
The glass of wine called to Victor. "I don't care what you believe," he said. "I've told you the truth." Kaitlin's eyes bored into Victor's. What's she thinking now? An edge of fear crept into Victor's system. Kaitlin isn't what I expected, to the extent that I had expectations. Which wasn't much, but still.
"I get it," Kaitlin said. Reaching for the glass she'd discarded in order to serve his wine, she murmured, "Yes, that makes sense."
Against his better judgment, Victor asked, "What does?"
"She recruited you to test herself."
"Huh?"
"Didn't you ever wonder about the attitude the Director throws around like beads at Mardi Gras?" she asked. "In the how much is real and what's done for effect sense?"
After consideration, Victor said, "If it's a faade, it's good. Real good. Impenetrable."
"Who do you think she wants, Victor?"
Ignoring the amused skepticism in Kaitlin's voice, Victor replied, "My partner, Mac."
"What's Mac like?"
"Taller than me. Younger." Thrusting aside memories of the way that Mac and LiAnn had begun to look at each other, Victor said, "He's a clothes horse with a temper that gives the Director's a run for her money on his bad days."
"She flirts with Mac?"
"Constantly."
"How do you feel about that?"
"Relieved."
Giggling, Kaitlin whispered, "I bet that gets to her in a big way."
"You lost me again." An improvement on, `Huh?" Vic, but not by much.
"She wants jealous and you give her grateful. I love it." Eyeing Victor slyly, Kaitlin asked, "How long have you worked for her?"
"Over four years."
"Remarkable restraint. As much as I dislike to, I have to admire that about her." With barely a perceptible pause, Kaitlin continued, "Does Mac respond to her advances?"
"Mac is fixated on LiAnn, the . ah . other member of our team."
"That has to be weird, working with lovers." Kaitlin shuddered dramatically. "All those significant glances and smarmy displays of affection that they think they'll die without. It would annoy the hell out of me."
Victor picked up the wine glass and stared at the near purple liquid. "You got that right."
"Victor?" The moment he met her eyes, Kaitlin asked, "Do you have a thing for LiAnn?"
"Had."
"Past tense?"
Raising his chin and glass belligerently, Victor replied, "That's right."
"Curiouser and curiouser." Rearranging herself on the couch so that she faced him, Kaitlin absently tapped her glass with manicured fingernails. "Let me guess. You met LiAnn at the Agency and the Director put the two of you together. There were sparks, so you progressed beyond the friendship stage. Shortly thereafter, enter Mac, stage left. Am I close?"
"Yeah," he said, shaken by how easily Kaitlin had pieced together the story. "There's a complicating wrinkle, though. Mac and LiAnn knew each other before the Agency recruited either of them."
Unfazed, Kaitlin asked, "In the biblical sense?"
Tasting the wine a second time, Victor forced himself to reply, "Yeah."
The pleased smile that lit Kaitlin's face angered and transfixed him. "This is just too delicious," she said, taking a sip of her drink. "Ms. Machiavelli's outwitted herself. So far. But you'd better be careful if you want to keep it that way, Victor."
"Delicious isn't the word I'd use."
"Is the wine off?"
"Huh? No, I meant-." Frowning at her smirk, Victor said, "You know what I meant."
"Think about it. The Director recruited you-for the sake of argument-because she wanted you but didn't want to want you." Holding up a hand to forestall comment, Kaitlin added, "You're attractive and insecure with enough strength and stability to wear away her edge, if you've got some stubborn to go along with it."
The Director does NOT want me and I'm not insecure. Just so we're clear on that stuff, ok? Despite himself, part of what Kaitlin postulated intrigued Victor. "How did you decide to attribute your three `Ss' to me?"
"Aren't you dependable, Victor?" Kaitlin asked, her tone making it clear that the question was rhetorical. "Don't you follow orders? At least try to stay out of trouble?"
"Yeah, but how-? Oh, I'm here on Christmas Eve. Is that it?"
Nodding, Kaitlin grinned impudently and Victor found himself smiling. "Give the lovely green eyed man a prize," she said.
Lovely? Did she just call me, lovely? Well, she did say I was attractive, so I guess it's possible I heard right. But lovely? Is that a compliment or-?
"How long has it been since you and LiAnn split?"
Victor's usual reticence with regard to talking about himself vanished along with his train of thought. "Almost a year," he replied.
"Have you been alone all that time?"
He shrugged. "A couple of women from my past reappeared in my life briefly, but that's about it." Other than a much too young daughter of a Mafioso that I met in a chivalrous moment. "Why?"
"What does reappeared mean? Isolated wild weekends of sex? Casual relationships of a few weeks duration? What?"
Blushing, Victor tried for nonchalant. "Nothing like that. Just . just ." I'm not going to tell this woman how those encounters went. I don't need to look more like a dork than I already do. "Nothing like that," he repeated dully.
"You're ripe for the plucking, then." Kaitlin placed a gentle hand on Victor's cheek. "Vulnerable."
"Don't worry," Victor muttered, tiring of the conversation. "I'm not going to fall into bed with a she devil just because I haven't gotten any for a while. It might not show, but I have a little more self respect than that."
"I didn't mean to insult you, Victor. Quite the contrary." Stroking the light stubble on his cheek with the tips of her fingers, Kaitlin said, "It's a rare man that has someone of the Director's . caliber implementing a five year plan to get him into bed."
An incredulous smile tugged at Victor's lips. "There is no such man."
"Have it your way." Kaitlin abandoned his cheek to finger the leather of Victor's dual shoulder holster. "This strains the boy next door image a little," she said with a grin, "but I like it anyway."
Strap in, Vic. She's jumping topics again. Who cares? She's got a great voice. Low and vibrant. Full of life and possibilities. Sexy as all hell. "You like men with guns?" he asked in an effort to keep her talking.
"I appreciate competent professionals." Running her forefinger along the edge of his holster strap, she added, "I like contrasts. You are a study in them." Holding his eyes with hers, Kaitlin took Victor's free hand and brought it to her lips. "White shirt-black leather holster. Is he a good guy or a bad boy? Which does he want me to think he is?" Kaitlin's playful tongue licked a jagged line across Victor's palm.
His breath caught in his throat and warmth spread throughout his body. Jesus Christ.
"Confident yet unsure. Does he really know what other people want of him? Could he deal with it if he did?" Victor yanked his hand from Kaitlin's grasp. Smiling, she stroked her own breasts. Taking her time, he brought her nipples to hardened peaks with a light, teasing touch.
Victor's palms itched to take over the task. Don't let her get you going, Vic. You've got work to do. Focus, dammit!
"Attractive and vulnerable," Kaitlin whispered. "How is he in bed? What would it take to get him there?" Closing her eyes as she twisted her nipples, she breathed, "What would it take, Victor? Is this enough?"
"I . you . no." Look away. Don't watch. Kaitlin's fingers never stopped moving. Easier said than fucking done. Speaking of which-enough already! Tormenting herself, Kaitlin moaned, a needy, low in her throat sound. Her head fell back to rest on the top of the couch and Victor drained his glass and murmured, "Christ, Kaitlin, stop that."
To his surprise, she did. Sitting up, panting from the stimulation, Kaitlin whispered, "Pro . professionally distant and intense." She refilled his wine. "Will he leave me hanging like this or take me?" Touching the rim of her glass to his, Kaitlin leaned forward to ask, "What's it going to be, Victor?"
Struggling to ignore the way his body swallowed Kaitlin's bait, Victor replied, "I'm here to protect you."
"From what?"
Victor was silent for a moment. Recovering his conversational balance, he felt calmer, more sure. "Those death threats you live with. Whoever put Alan in the hospital. Isn't that obvious?"
Kaitlin giggled. The giggles grew into chuckles that progressed to full blown laughter.
Victor scowled as she wiped tears from her eyes. "What's so funny?" he demanded.
Dropping a light kiss on his lips by way of apology, Kaitlin explained, "My uncle's in semi-retirement. It takes large buckets of money to retain his services these days. At the moment, no one with trouble of the sort he specializes in has enough cash to tempt him."
"That doesn't change the fact that your bodyguard is injured."
"Alan fractured his femur and tore his MCL tumbling down a double diamond run he had no business attempting." Kaitlin poked Victor's thigh and knee as she explained.
The warmth of the hand she'd kept on his knee didn't keep Victor's anger at bay. "Your uncle is enjoying his money and your bodyguard hurt himself skiing. Why in the hell am I here?"
Kaitlin didn't hesitate. "As an unwitting recruiter, a gorgeous horny man or both."
"Fuck this!" Victor leapt to his feet and paced in front of the couch. "Fuck that manipulative bitch. Who in the hell does she think she is?" Whirling on Kaitlin, Victor shouted, "I can't take any more of this shit! Just once, just one fucking time out of thousands, why can't she play it straight with me? Why?"
"That isn't her way."
"Tough shit! She's had it her way for years. All I want is my way once. Is that too goddamn much to ask?" Running a hand through his hair, Victor focused on Kaitlin. "Look, I'm sorry for yelling at-." Her tunic was gone in favor of a matching silk shell that left very little of the form it concealed to the imagination. Victor had taken several steps toward her before he stopped to try to think. Kaitlin rose from the couch to meet him. "Don't touch me," he ordered. Her obvious shock prompted him to add, "I'm having a hard enough time keeping my distance from you as it is."
Victor winced and Kaitlin smiled at his choice of words. "You're only about a deep breath away, you realize?" she asked.
Her teasing tone swept through Victor, leaving him trembling. "Yeah, I know."
"Have you ever had sex in front of a roaring fire?"
Latching onto her question to stall for time until he regained his sanity, Victor replied, "Once. We were camping. She had a root pressing into her back and I was kneeling in poison ivy. Not the greatest experience."
"You should try it on a soft, plush, well padded carpet," she suggested. "Like that one over there, for example."
"Maybe someday."
Kaitlin slipped her silk pants over her hips and let them fall to a pool of fabric hiding her feet. "Maybe today?" she asked, fingers plucking at the bottom of her shell.
"Kaitlin, don't," Victor pleaded, digging his short, stubby nails into his palms.
Lifting the shirt over her head, Kaitlin arched her back to show off her sleek, thong-clad body to advantage.
"Lord have mercy," Victor whispered, tone reverent.
"He may, but I won't." Kaitlin removed Victor's belt with a flourish and tossed it onto the couch behind her. "You do the boots," she commanded. "You probably have a cache of weapons in there and you don't want me to get hurt, do you?"
There's only a small gun and a switchblade. She doesn't care, you idiot, she's angling to get a look at your ass when you bend over. Victor couldn't resist a smile, as he provided Kaitlin the view she wanted, enjoying her whimper of appreciation. "No," he belatedly agreed. "I wouldn't want you to hurt yourself with my backup weapons. The suspension would be the least of my worries." A visual image of the Director as disciplinarian appeared in Victor's head. What wouldn't that woman do with a riding crop? A playful smack on his butt startled a, "Hey," out of Victor. It also, for some reason, kicked his paranoia into gear. "Why, Kaitlin?" he asked. "If you aren't in any danger, why did you agree to the Agency's offer of protection?"
"I was curious," she replied, caressing Victor's hip with a light touch. "I declined your Director's offer and didn't hear from her in years. In a way," Kaitlin added with a sigh that called Victor's full attention to her chest, "I was disappointed. I didn't figure her for a woman to just accept a refusal from anyone about anything. Then, out of the blue, she makes a peace offering. I wanted to know what she really had in mind."
Shifting his bare feet nervously, Victor muttered, "I don't think it was sex with me."
Kaitlin kissed Victor on the nose. Taking his hand and leading him toward the fireplace, she asked, "Why not?"
"She probably respects you too much."
"And you not enough, is that what you think?" Hands settling on her hips, Kaitlin spun to face him. "Have you been listening to anything I've said?"
"Your theory's interesting, but I know fiction when I hear it," Victor said, as he reached for his holster.
"Leave it," Kaitlin said. "The shirt, too."
Mouth dropping open in the wake of an unexpected surge of excitement, Victor managed, "Just in case intruders breach the perimeter?"
Shaking her head, Kaitlin grinned. "Just because."
"You do like men with guns."
"I told you," she reminded, tugging at the zipper of his jeans, "I like contrasts." Kaitlin moved his jeans and boxers out of her way, whispering, "The thought of a desperately excited, armed man makes me wild."
Trembling with need, Victor stepped out of his clothing. Eyes glittering, Kaitlin tossed the garments aside and placed Victor's hand it on her thong. His fingers tightened, his wrist snapped and Victor's knees nearly buckled at the sound of tearing silk. Lifting the fabric to his nose, he growled at the scent of female.
She sunk to her knees. "Come here," she said, patting the inviting, fire-heated carpet.
Victor put the small slip of silk into his shirt pocket as he knelt. They stared at each other for long, sexually tense moments, building the eroticism to a fever pitch. Victor wasn't sure who made the first move. One minute, they were eyeing, panting and wanting. The next, Kaitlin had her legs wrapped around his waist and was devouring his mouth. His first thrust was hard, deep and slow. A single moan of surrender from Kaitlin's lips shattered the tiny bit of control remaining to Victor. Lifting and lowering her hips with a bruising grip, Victor used Kaitlin's weight and his leverage to maximize the penetration and put his shoulders and back into it to generate greater speed.
Clinging to his neck, Kaitlin made inarticulate, appreciative sounds. When her purrs became pleas, Victor brought them together as hard as he could. Kaitlin shuddered, screaming something incomprehensible, and Victor's world spun crazily out of focus as the pleasure hit him.
An indeterminate time later, Victor became aware of spasmodic movements. Turning his head required an immense effort. Kaitlin's eyes were still closed but she had a smile on her face that Victor was proud to have had a hand in putting there. Narrowing his eyes, Victor whispered, "You're shivering," and gathered the woman into his arms. "Christ, Kaitlin, you're freezing." Hurriedly, Victor rolled over her, so that he was no longer between the young woman and the fire.
Her eyes opened. "I want you naked in my bed, Victor. Will you stay?"
Victor registered the familiar weight of his handguns and the clamminess of his sweat drenched shirt. "Tired of the contrast already?" he asked, mildly surprised by how lazy and relaxed he sounded.
She grinned up at him. "No, I just want to touch you. All of you. Will you let me?"
His orders had been very clear. "I'm here until 8:00 am."
Kaitlin rose to her feet with consummate grace. "That'll do," she said, offering Victor her hand. "So long as we don't waste any more time."
~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~
The Director raised a champagne flute in the direction of her monitoring equipment. "Merry Christmas, Victor," she said. "And soon, very soon, I really must decide how happy a New Year you deserve."
Finis
~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~
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