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Part 7 in the 'A Beautiful Lie' Series
Title: A Covered Lie
Summary: Part 7 in the ‘A Beautiful Lie Series’ with Face and Amy. Face struggles with his thoughts about Amy. Set just after ‘There’s Always A Catch.’ Sequel to “Lies For Thought.”
Disclaimer: I don’t own the A Team and I’ve not made a penny from this; I just do it for the jazz!
Copyright: December 2008
The unexpected knock at the door made Face put down his coffee cup and glance at his watch. Anna-Marie wasn’t due for another hour, when her shift finished at that chic little restaurant. He’d met her there on his return from Lobster Bay a couple of days ago.
Needing some place inconspicuous and quiet, he’d found the cosy restaurant tucked off the main drag, close to his newly scammed apartment. He’d asked for a table, and Anna-Marie had been his waitress. One thing had led to another, from the flirtatious glances and light conversation, and then next thing he knew he was taking her home after her shift. That night she’d been the perfect distraction. Still was. He liked to think she was helping with his relaxation after a stressful six weeks where the team had been constantly chased by Decker right across to Lobster Bay. Didn’t matter how hard the team tried, they’d failed to lose him. Until now. They were all lying low, hopefully shaking off Decker’s heat.
There was another knock, louder and faster. Couldn’t be Decker. No Way. Face had been careful. Anyway, if it was Decker, he wouldn’t be knocking. Face rolled his eyes. Always best to err on the side of caution, though.
Face sighed as he walked towards the door, grabbing his gun. He held it behind his back as he looked through the peephole, instantly relaxing when he saw Amy standing in the hall. She looked as if she was just about to walk away, but stopped as soon as the door opened.
“I’m sorry,” Amy said. Face could barely make out the whisper. His anxiety rose as he studied her. Her eyes were puffy where she’d obviously been crying. Her face still glowed red. “I just needed to see someone about this,” she said more clearly, wiping her eyes, standing straighter, as if trying to pull herself together.
“Come in, come in.” Face quickly shot a glance along the corridor as he ushered her into the apartment. Had someone hurt her?
“I’m sorry… I knew out of all of the team, I could talk to Murdock or you…” her voice trembled as she spoke, “Hannibal wouldn’t…. and BA seems unapproachable at times…” she started to stutter her words. “But I just couldn’t turn up at the VA in this state…” She looked up at him; he could see the tears welling. As she blinked, the first tear trickled down her cheek. “So I came to you. No one I know would understand this. No one…”
“What’s wrong, kid?” He rested his hands on her shoulders. Anxiety waved over him.
“Oh, Face,” Amy sobbed, bursting into tears. Face was unprepared as she threw herself into his arms. Hesitantly, he wrapped his arms around her. “It’s Al Massey,” she cried.
Feeling her tremble, he gently rubbed her back. He knew who Al Massey was, of course, a senior reporter at the paper and a good friend and mentor to Amy. Good enough friend that she’d been prepared to finance his rescue from Mexico by selling her home. But what had happened to cause her to be in this state?
He held her tightly, allowing her to cry before easing out of the embrace to look her in the eye.
“Amy, what happened?”
“We got a call at the paper that he’d been in a fatal car crash early this morning,” Amy slowly responded. “The police couldn’t get hold of any family. His wife had died just before I met you guys. As far as I’m aware, he doesn’t have any family in LA.” She wiped her face as her tears welled. “So I told Grant I’d go and identify his body.”
“And you went on your own?” Face realised he’d sounded stern, so he softened his tone. “Amy, why didn’t you -?”
“I thought I could handle it,” Amy cried. “Oh, Face, it was just awful. Seeing him there. Cold and grey. So lifeless.” She flung herself back into his arms, and held her, trying to comfort her. Finally, he prised her out of his arms and led her to the couch in the living room, where she sat down. As she fumbled in her purse for some tissues, he went to the bar, poured a large glass of brandy and handed it to her.
“Here, this might help a little.”
She sipped the brandy and nodded.
Face watched her, waiting patiently for Amy to speak. He didn’t want to press matters that might upset her further. He hated seeing her this way. In fact he’d never seen her in this state. Scared, frightened occasionally, a bit shaken up with Deke Watkins, and that time with her creep of an ex-boyfriend, Jeremy, but nothing like this.
He hadn’t dealt with a woman in this state for a while…. Probably not since Nam. Murdock thought Face was the expert on women, but far from it. He’d dealt with the tearful actress that hadn’t gotten the part, or the crocodile tears anyone could see through, but this – no, he hadn’t dealt with anything like this. Not for a long time, anyway.
Another thought swept through his mind - had she really thought of turning to Murdock before him? He realized he wanted her to consider him first, always. Why hadn’t she?
“I’m sorry,” he said, placing a hand on her knee, watching her. It was all he could think of and he knew it was inadequate, but what could he say? Another woman and the words would be flowing from his mouth. But with Amy, he was at a loss.
She took a deep breath and then spoke, but she wouldn’t look him in the eye.
“I’ve taken responsibility for the body. I couldn’t just leave it to the county. So I’ll have to make the funeral arrangements for when they release his body. But I’m not sure when that will be.”
“The cops are treating the car wreck as suspicious.”
“Suspicious? In what way?”
“I don’t know.” She shook her head and started to cry again. Great, another stupid question, Face thought. He edged closer towards her on the couch, and took her hand, giving it a squeeze. He wanted to hold her, comfort her, anything to take away her pain. But he knew he needed to be careful how close he got. “They said something about no other vehicles being involved, so they’re going to investigate it. But I can’t remember now everything they said. It all seems such a blur.”
“Had he’d been drinking?”
“Al didn’t drink and drive!” she snapped, pulling her hand out of his.
“Sorry.” Face shook his head. “I was just trying to look for some reason.” Face tried to think more constructively, but he was finding it hard seeing how distressed she was.
Face waited, taking her hand again and rubbing the back of it with his thumb, as she sipped at her brandy. To his surprise, Amy leaned towards him, resting her head on his shoulder. Automatically Face wrapped an arm around her and held her. He’d hold her for as long as she needed, if he had to.
“Do you think it has anything to do with a story?” Face asked.
Amy shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know. It’s something the cops are going to investigate. They want access to his records at the office. All I know is, he’d been working on a story in some town on the outskirts of LA, I think. Ages ago he’d mentioned that he might have to go undercover, but never said any more about it.” Amy sniffed, gaining some composure in her words. She lifted her head off of Face’s shoulder and Face released his hold. “I don’t know, maybe I’m not thinking straight, but it just seems odd.”
“How do you mean?”
“Well, with what the cops said, and his disappearance.”
Face frowned curiously.
“Apparently he’d been calling into the office occasionally and then it just stopped.”
“Did you tell the cops that?”
“Do you know the details of what he was working on?”
Amy shook her head before gulping the last of the brandy from the glass. “No, not really, and to be honest I’d been so busy with the team and our last couple of jobs, I didn’t really ask. By the time I’d gotten back from Lobster Bay, his communication had stopped.” She sighed. “I feel like I’ve failed him this time.”
“Hey, you can’t blame yourself for this.” Face took the glass, and poured some more brandy into it, but a smaller measure. Getting Amy drunk wouldn’t help matters. He only wanted to keep her calm, help her in any way he could.
“Thanks,” Amy said, taking the glass from Face. He sat down beside her as she kicked off her shoes, groaning as she did so. “I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve been in these heels all day long.”
“Not at all. Make yourself comfortable. You’ve had a rough day.” He smiled at her, but she only frowned.
“Face, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know who else to turn to - who’d understand.” She dropped her gaze, staring into the glass she held. “I just know we’ve helped each other before… But I wasn’t sure if you’d be busy, or something…”
A woman. She thought he’d be busy with a woman.
“Hey, even if I was, you could come to me with this.”
Amy nodded, glancing up at him then back into her glass. “When I saw Al’s body… I just wanted to get the hell out of there. I couldn’t face going home. All I could think about was finding you….”
Face pushed the hair off of her face, making her look at him. He wanted to leave his hand against the warmth of her cheek; instead he gave her a reassuring smile. So she had thought of him first. For a moment he watched as she stared into her glass, swirling around the liquor and occasionally sipping the drink, admiring her features as he did so.
Finally she sighed. “I suppose first thing tomorrow I’ll have to tear his desk apart to find out what he was working on.” Face frowned and she obviously caught his concern in his expression. She snapped back, sounding more like the determined Amy he knew. “I have to, Face. Especially before the cops take anything away. I need to get to the bottom of this. Find out what he was working on. I need to know if his death was an accident…”
Face could see the tears welling again. “Hey, hey…” He gently wiped away a tear from her cheek.
“I’m sorry. Al was such a good friend; I can’t believe he’s gone.”
“You don’t have to apologise to me.”
“But I do. I shouldn’t be falling apart like this,” she said, smiling weakly. “Not after running with you guys. I shouldn’t have come here and burdened you with this.”
“You’re not a burden.”
“Even so…” Amy drank the last of her brandy. “It was a mistake. I think I’d better go,” she said, placing the glass on the coffee table.
“Mistake? Amy, it would be a mistake if you leave!” Face stood up with her, watching as she slipped her shoes back on, wobbling in the process. He held his hand out to catch her. “Uh… I’d feel better if you stayed here. Besides, you’ve had a lot of brandy.”
Did she really want to go back to her empty apartment and dwell on this further? He didn’t like the idea of her being alone tonight.
“Uh… I don’t know, Face.” She picked her purse off the couch and put it over her shoulder. She seemed hurried now she had the thought in her mind to leave. He had to stop her.
“You can take a bath, relax, anything.” He placed a hand on her shoulder. “I’d just feel happier if you stayed here tonight. There’s a spare room,” he quickly added.
“Um…” She looked him in the eye, but he could see her hesitancy. “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure. Please, stay.” Face hoped he didn’t sound like he was begging. But he didn’t like the thought of her walking out of this apartment, the state she was in. He wanted her where he could keep an eye on her. Damn it, she’d had one hell of a shock and she seemed so… fragile. He’d never seen her this way. He wanted to help her with her grief. With their heads straight tomorrow morning, they’ll be able to see how to attack this better together. They could both look into what Massey had been into. Because he wanted to help her, he was certain of that.
“I, uh, suppose a bath would be good.” She gave him a weak smile, slipping off her shoes, dropping her purse beside them.
“Good, good.” He nodded, and to his surprise Amy was back in his arms, resting her head on his shoulder. He rubbed her back.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “I’m so glad you were here.”
Her body pressed up against his, they gently swayed as if a sombre tune played in the background. This would usually be where Face used his charm, his tender touches, to seduce the woman into the bedroom…. The gentle aroma of her sweet perfume, the softness of her hair against his cheek made him want to do those things and more. He wanted to run his hands down her back, around her hips, feeling the curves of her body. Internally he fought hard against those urges, because this was different. This was Amy.
He shifted slightly, which made Amy gently move out of the embrace, leaving her hands resting on his chest. He could see her cheeks were wet again with tears.
“I, uh, better go take that bath, huh?” she said, gently sweeping her hands around onto his arms.
“Yeah, yeah,” Face replied, trying to shake off his thoughts as Amy’s hands landed in his. “The guestroom is just down the hall, on the right. The bathroom is opposite.” He felt relieved that she’d agreed to stay.
Hesitantly, Amy removed her hands from Face’s to wipe her face, clearing away any last remnants of tears. He could see she was trying to regain her composure, but she didn’t have to for his sake. She was hurting, losing a close friend. Blaming herself. Even now when she should be just mourning the death of a friend, he knew her head was probably busy trying to work out the answers. What had Massey gotten himself into to get himself killed? And she wouldn’t stop until she’d found the truth.
That’s what he found so attractive about her. She had a quality not always seen in reporters, usually thirsty for a story and not caring how they got it or who they hurt. But Amy wasn’t like that. That’s what Hannibal liked in her too. That’s why he’d let her join the team. He saw the good in her. They all did.
As Amy walked out of the living room, he followed, pointing her in the right direction. He stopped, watching her slowly walk down the hallway. She hesitated outside the door, glancing at Face. He nodded. The bathroom door closed behind her.
Shutting off the intensity.
Oh boy, Face thought, resting his forehead against the wall. Or was that feeling just in his head? He hadn’t had that much brandy, yet. He needed to get a grip, take control. Not do anything stupid. She’s upset, needs support and comforting. Just comforting…. Anything else and it would look as if he’d taken advantage. He didn’t want her thinking he’d done it because he’d felt sorry for her. Because she’d be wrong.
Anyway, this is wrong. Just… wrong. Wrong circumstances, wrong time. If he ever had a chance with Amy, he’d want it to be for all the right reasons. He turned and leaned against the wall, still watching the bathroom door. What was he thinking? There would never be the right time, not while she was on the team. Even if she is the right woman.
He straightened, running a hand through his hair. That urge to run. Again. Far away. But he was tired of running…. He’d spent over ten years running. But that’s what he had to do, always do, never letting anyone get close.
Had he let Amy get too close?
He’d certainly let his guard down. Never realising the effect she’d have on him.
Face walked back into the living room, sighing heavily, leaving Amy to take her bath. Before he could switch the television on, there was a knock at the door. Eyes wide, he glanced at his watch.
Anna-Marie. He’d totally forgotten about her. If Amy saw Anna-Marie, she’d bolt out of this apartment before he could stop her.
He opened the door, giving the pretty blond woman standing there his best smile. Time to talk yourself out of this one, Face.
“Hey, I’m sorry I’m late,” Anna-Marie said, entering the apartment before Face could stop her.
Anna-Marie quickly put her arms around Face’s neck and kissed him.
“Uh… Anna, something’s come up -”
“Oh, boy, I hope so,” she sexily replied, raising an eyebrow, running her hands provocatively down his chest. “I’ve been thinking all day about that little thing we got up to last night….”
Face cleared his throat, nervously glanced down the hallway towards the bathroom door.
“Uh… Anna-Marie, I’m sorry,” Face said, removing her hands as they slowly undid his shirt buttons. “But we’re going to have to take a rain-check.”
“Oh, Michael, I’ve been looking forward to this…” Anna-Marie paused. Face turned, following her look over his shoulder.
Amy’s shoes by the couch…. Two brandy glasses on the coffee table, one distinctly showing lipstick marks.
Eyes narrowed, Anna-Marie snatched her hands out of Face’s and pushed him away.
“It’s my sister!” Face said, quickly.
“You said you were an only child!”
“She’s my stepsister.” Talk fast, she’ll never know. “She’s just lost her job. She’s upset. You know how it is.” As he continued his fast excuses, his arm around Anna-Marie’s waist, Face led her back out the front door. After a great deal of fast talking, Anna-Marie finally nodded, falling for his charm, his smile.
“Oh, okay, gorgeous. I’m sorry to hear that,” Anna-Marie replied, looking up into Face’s eyes, showing a sorrowful expression. Her hand brushed his cheek as she frowned. “You know... maybe I should meet her?”
“It’s a good opportunity for me to meet your sister.”
“I’m not sure that’s what she’d want.”
“I could stay, talk girl talk, cheer her up -”
“I don’t think she’s up to it, she’s pretty upset. Look, we can do this tomorrow. I promise, honey.” Face slipped his arm away from Anna-Marie’s waist. “I’ll call you,” he said.
Winking his final charm, Face closed the door before she could think about it too hard and answer.
Face sighed, relieved he’d been able to deal with Anna-Marie quickly while still minimizing the damage. He might have some sweet-talking to do in the morning, but he’d cross that bridge when he came to it.
Turning on the television, Face grabbed the remote and sat down. Trying to relax in the softness of the couch, he flicked through the television channels. But nothing really interested him, too busy in his thoughts.
Amy… in the bath, all those bubbles….
He groaned deeply as he flicked through the channels. Someone was playing an evil trick on him. From mating rabbits on some damn nature programme to a romance film where the hero was just getting to kiss his leading lady, Face was finding it hard to find something to watch and distract his thoughts. About to give up and switch the damn television off, he sighed with relief. Slouching into the couch, he put his feet up on to the coffee table and watched football.
Face glanced up, startled, as Amy entered the living room. She was wearing a dark blue bathrobe - his dark blue bathrobe - and towelling off her hair.
“I hope you don’t mind,” Amy said, gesturing at the robe. “I didn’t feel like putting those clothes back on.”
Face tried very hard not to think of what lie beneath that robe – and failed.
“No, no, you’re fine.” He moved over on the couch, but Amy hesitantly sat in the armchair instead.
“Did I hear you speaking to someone earlier?”
“Uh…” Face hesitated, noticing her pull the bathrobe over her legs as she crossed them. He shook his head. “Um, no. No.”
“Face.” Amy gave him a look of disbelief, like she did. Yeah, she knew.
“It was probably the television.”
“It didn’t sound like the television… Oh, I’m sorry,” she said, raising her hand to her mouth. “You had a date, didn’t you?”
“No, not tonight…. The TV just blasted out when I turned it on. Damn thing must be on the blink.” Her suspicious expression said she wasn’t buying it, but he knew Amy wouldn’t push it. Another thing he… liked about her. She seemed to know when to stop asking him questions. Unlike some of his girlfriends.
“How was your bath?” he asked.
“Good, thanks. I feel better.”
“I’m glad.” She looked better too. Evidence that she’d been crying had faded from her face, her eyes no longer puffy and red. She had a warm glow about her though, her cheeks flushed due to the hot bath.... Face suddenly fiddled with the TV controller, realizing the palm of his hands were sweaty.
“The bathtub is huge, you know,” Amy said. “Would easily fit two…” Face glanced at Amy, unable to hide the small mischievous smile creeping over his face. “Oh, uh… you probably already know that -”
“Another brandy?” Face stood up taking the glasses without waiting for a reply.
“Uh, yeah… please. It will help me sleep. I think I’ll need that tonight.”
Face handed Amy her brandy glass.
“A toast,” he said, raising his drink. “To good friends.”
“To good friends.” Amy gently chinked her glass against his before she took a sip.
Face sat back down on the couch, but closer to Amy’s chair.
“You know, I’m here for you.” Face leaned forward, squeezing her hand reassuringly. “I’ll help you with this if you need me to, Amy.”
“I know, I know.” Amy squeezed his hand before letting it go. She sighed heavily. “I think I need to look into the story he was covering and go from there. If I can’t find anything at work, then I’ll go to his house.” Amy suddenly chuckled. “I will definitely need you then. I’m not very good at picking locks.”
Face smiled. “I think I can be of assistance there.”
“Where’d you learn that skill?”
He raised an eyebrow at the sudden question.
“Come on, Face. Share something with me… please.” She raised an eyebrow. Was she flirting with him? Maybe it was the brandy.
“Well, I suppose as a kid I had a tendency to want to know what was behind a locked door. And we had plenty of those at the orphanage. Usually ended up just being a closet or something, but the challenge was getting in.” Amy giggled as Face spoke, so he elaborated more on his story, liking her attention, enjoying her company. “And then when I joined the army… well, need I say more? It was one of the many skills I excelled in.”
“Mmmm… you certainly have many skills,” Amy said, cheekily. Face chuckled with her, until she suddenly stopped. Her hand, quivering, went to her mouth, trying to hold in her tears.
“Hey.” He edged closer towards her, placing a hand on her knee.
“I’m here laughing, and Al’s dead.”
“He wouldn’t want you to walk around miserable for the rest of your life.”
“I know. I know. I’m being silly… but I feel guilty. Maybe I should go to bed.”
“Yeah… you’ve had a long day,” he replied, watching her gulp the last of her drink.
“Face,” Amy hesitated, pulling the bathrobe tighter around her, “have you got something I could wear?”
“Uh… sure.” Face stood up, nervously fingering his shirt collar, certain thoughts distracting him. “I’ll go and have a look.”
Face walked into his bedroom, chewing his lip. Travelling light, as always, meant he didn’t have a great deal of his own wardrobe. Besides, the guy who owned this place was about Face’s size… some of his designer shirts had fit nicely, so there’d been little need to bring all of his own belongings.
Face rummaged through a few drawers, but it was obvious this guy was like Face – no use for pyjamas. From the closet, Face pulled out a shirt, one of the longer ones, trying not to imagine how Amy was going to look in it. Long ago he’d seen Amy wearing his shirt. He’d liked that image even then.
“Uh… will this do?” Face asked, emerging from the bedroom, holding out a pale blue shirt still on its hanger.
“Um… yes, thanks,” Amy said, taking the shirt, nervously glancing at the floor, not meeting his eye. “That’ll be fine.” She smiled weakly and walked towards the guestroom.
Face busied himself tidying up the living room, trying not to imagine Amy getting changed, not fantasising how he’d help her slip out of her clothes.... He anxiously ran a hand through his hair as he headed for the bathroom, knowing he shouldn’t be thinking like this. As he splashed his face with warm water, Face pondered whether he’d done the right thing. Should he have let Amy leave? Taking away his temptation.... He stared into the mirror. He could have called her a taxi to get her home. He imagined her going back to her lonely apartment, upset and distraught. Grabbing a clean towel, he dried his face. Of course he’d done the right thing keeping her here. She needed a friend, a shoulder to cry on.
He imagined her in the guestroom, hoping she’d sleep comfortably…. Wearing that pale blue shirt. He frowned at himself in the mirror. He really needed to stop thinking about her body, her long slender legs…. What they would feel like.... He shook his head. He had to stop thinking like this. He closed his eyes, and swallowed down his guilt. She’s a friend.
Funny how you always want the things you can’t have.
Damn it, he needed to get a grip.
Closing the bathroom door behind him, his shirt tossed over his shoulder, Face walked quietly towards his room, not wanting to disturb Amy. But he heard a door click open, and turned. Amy stood there, wearing the pale blue shirt, nervously leaning against the doorframe. He tried very hard to make sure he kept looking at her face.
“Um… Face…” She met his eye briefly, revealing evidence that she’d once again been crying, but as she spoke her glance flitted back and forth. “Would you…? Did you want to…? I, uh… can’t face sleeping on my own.”
Hesitantly, Face glanced from his bedroom door to Amy. Cold empty bed. Warm beautiful woman. There wasn’t really a choice. It had been a long time since he’d shared a bed with Amy. He’d been the one seeking comfort that time.
And he’d sworn it would never happen again.
“Uh… Sure, sure. If that’s what you want?”
She gently nodded, opening the bedroom door wider, inviting him in. As she turned back into the bedroom, Face followed, guiltily grimacing as he watched her long bare legs that were scantily covered by the shirt. Without any words, Amy quickly slipped under the bed sheets. Face automatically stripped to his boxers and joined Amy under the covers. As Amy snuggled into his held out arm, he wondered if he should have gotten a t-shirt to wear.
“Thanks, Face,” she whispered.
He heard her sniffle, further evidence that she’d been crying, dwelling on Massey again. He felt reassured he’d done the right thing, making her stay.
“Don’t worry, Amy,” he said, leaning across her to turn off the bedside lamp, hoping the words were comforting. Tonight, for the first time in a long time, he was actually at a loss for words.
In the darkness that surrounded them, he lay back down, wrapping his arm firmly around her, trying to sooth her. He relished her clean soft scent, the bubble bath lingering. Something about her hold seemed less inhibited than previous times they’d slept together. Or was it that long ago he couldn’t remember? Or was it the damn booze? Had he drank too much himself?
She nuzzled her head into his neck and her hand swept softly across his chest, sending a surprised sensation through his body. Ignoring it, he rested his head on hers, her hair on his cheek. She gently fidgeted, brushing one of her legs against his.
He froze, paralysed, suddenly daring not to move. The slightest thing could be the wrong, yet right move, but then… would there be regrets?
But he could sense, the way she touched him, her body pressed against him that if he responded, reciprocated, so would she.
Damn the brandy.
He took her hand and gently rubbed it, calculating every move he did, not wanting to give the wrong signals. Usually when a woman gave these signals he was right on it, reacting to them. But he needed to control this situation. Control himself – the temptation.
What if he was reading the signals wrong? What if he was right?
If two people want the same thing….
She’s on the team. She’s upset, her emotions are running high. She’s probably not thinking straight. Both of them had drunk too much. Tomorrow morning it would either look like he’d taken advantage or she’d think he’d felt sorry for her.
And that’s not what he wanted.
Once Face felt her body relax and her breathing become natural and heavy, only then did he relax and allow sleep to follow.
Sleepily, Face pulled the woman tangled in his arms closer, caressing her body. He continued tenderly touching her with his fingertips, moving up her body, softly cupping her breast. She let out a sleepy sigh, brushing her hand gently across his stomach, tightening her own hold on him. Damn it, she felt good in his arms.
Light streamed through the drapes, softly lighting the room. It was early morning, but he didn’t have to go anywhere, and neither did Anna-Marie.
As his usual morning erection hardened, Face sleepily fantasized about the sex he could have this morning with this beautiful woman. He enjoyed sex in the morning. More awake, more energy, no rush to get to sleep. A great way to start their day.
He turned on his side to kiss her, wanting to wake her so that he could perform his little morning magic. He stared.
In his sudden realization, he simultaneously snatched his hand back from under her shirt and pulled his hips away, fearing she’d feel his erection hard against her stomach. Last night came flooding back to him. He’d shown Anna-Marie the door. This was Amy – real - not a dream.
But even knowing it was Amy in his arms, not Anna-Marie, he wanted to stay there in the soft bed, her warm body pressed up against his. Couldn’t he just freeze time, so that he could savour this moment with Amy in his arms? He’d fantasized about having these moments with Amy again and more… Maybe she wouldn’t wake for a while yet.
In bed with Amy.... But he can’t do what he’d fantasised....
Get up. He didn’t dare groan, or make a noise of any sort, afraid of waking her. So far her eyes remained closed. Peaceful…. Get up, he told himself. Stay here too long and you’ll do something you’ll regret and she can’t…. He closed his eyes. All the will in the world, but his erection wasn’t showing any sign of dying yet. Well, it wouldn’t would it? Not with…. Amy really didn’t know the effect she had on him.
Amy sighed, turning in his arms, her back towards him. He could lie there, curled up against her, just for another hour. They could sleep. Just sleep. Together.
No. Get up, Face. If you stay…. His brain moved south in the morning and he knew it. It was the reason he’d left the bed early at the wedding and again on the cruise. He couldn’t trust himself, and he didn’t want her feeling…. It was perfectly normal, but all the same, awkward. And he didn’t want that with Amy.
Gently and regretfully, he moved his arm from under her. He paused as she turned in her sleep. Satisfied she was still asleep he left the bed. Quickly and quietly, he grabbed his clothes and headed for the door. Before leaving the room, he turned back to watch her momentarily, just to have that image of her sleeping. Sighing heavily, shaking his head, he walked out, closing the door behind him.
He found his watch in the pile of clothes that he held. Six in the morning. Great, he thought, could he have woken any goddamn earlier? He headed straight for the bathroom and turned the shower on, letting the hot water run through as he stripped off his shorts.
Maybe that should be a cold shower. What the hell had he been thinking?
Allowing the hot water to wash over him, he stood, eyes closed, deep in thought. Once again that urge. Run. But like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming car. Which way did he run? Which way would he get hurt? Or would running be his biggest mistake?
He felt heavy with guilt, remembering how he’d been stroking her bare skin, her breast… and enjoying the feeling. And even now he didn’t want to forget that sensation. What had he been thinking? Even though he’d assumed it was Anna-Marie in his arms, he’d been seeing Amy. Wanting Amy….
He’d been thinking, only the other day, how much he’d enjoyed taking Amy to lunch at Dee’s Diner. How well they’d gotten on without the rest of the team in their way. He wanted to do it again. Was going to, too. Lunch, though. Not dinner. He’d thought about dinner, knowing a couple of nice restaurants Amy would appreciate. But dinner meant date didn’t it? Usually if he took a woman to dinner it led to a very different meaning of dessert. And it wasn’t that he didn’t… just that he couldn’t. Wouldn’t. She was a member of the team and well, Hannibal would kill him.
But now, maybe he shouldn’t even do the lunch thing again.
Or perhaps, he was overreacting and it was just the brandy; he should just forget about it. Maybe they’d become comfortable with one another - it wasn’t as if it was the first time they’d shared a bed together. Just slept though - nothing had happened.
Was he letting his feelings take over this time? Face thought anxiously as he stepped out of the shower. He grabbed a towel and started drying himself off meticulously, unable to shrug off his thoughts.
When Amy joined the team, he hadn’t thought of her as anything other than a member of the team. But slowly, watching her, getting to know her better, he’d become attracted to all of her little qualities – the fact she had great legs was a bonus.
Damn it, he dated a certain type of girl, and he stuck to it. Meant he could leave them easily, with no regrets.
Now dressed, Face walked into the kitchen to put the coffee on. Boy, did he need the coffee. He felt like his head was in a thick cloud, with no clear way out, still mulling over his thoughts. He needed to focus.
How’d he manage to fall for Amy like this? Daniel had tipped him over the edge - that was for sure. Face had liked how he only had to compete with Murdock for Amy’s attention on their journeys in the back of the van. The three of them would banter. But when Daniel had come along - he had not liked that competition. Childish, he knew, but all the same, he hadn’t liked it.
He certainly hadn’t liked the thought that Daniel had gotten to do things with Amy that Face could only dream about. But kissing Kathy at Lone Star Cabs had been a mistake in his stupidity to prove something over Daniel Running Bear.
Another moment of stupidity he wished to forget.
But a lesson learnt and a reason why he hadn’t gone chasing after Shannon at Lobster Bay – shame, because she really had been his ‘type’.
So why couldn’t Face get her out of his head? What did he like about her so much?
Amy had intellect; a lot of the girls he dated didn’t. That could get pretty tiring after a while. More concerned about when their next manicure would be than what was going on in the world around them.
He actually liked how she didn’t fall for his charm so easily like some of the women he met. Meant he had to work harder on her, providing that little bit of... chase.
Something about her reminded him of Leslie. But Amy probably knew him better than Leslie now. Amy certainly knew more about him than all of the girlfriends he’d had put together. She knew the truth - well, some of it. He didn’t have to put on such an act with her. He could relax – a little.
If only circumstances were different…. He’d be right back in that bedroom for a start.
Face sighed, combing a hand through his hair. It wasn’t even seven a.m. Anxiously, he paced the kitchen, a cup of coffee in his hand, wondering how long he’d have to wait for Amy to wake, and see what complications that brought. Was it best to get whatever was coming over and done with? Had she felt his hardness next to her? Had she felt him touching her? More to the point, if she had, would she say anything?
Maybe after he’d finished his cup of coffee, or two, he should get some breakfast going. That might draw her out of her room, and they could… what? Start the day as if nothing happened? Did he confess, apologise? Or would they tiptoe around each other, both knowing, but neither saying.
He didn’t have to wait long. Amy emerged from her bedroom rubbing her eyes.
“Good morning,” she said groggily. “What time is it?”
Face watched, admiring Amy as she walked into the kitchen, combing a hand through her hair to tidy its ruffled look. She had his bathrobe wrapped around her, only revealing the collar of the shirt she still wore – but not the long slender legs that shirt would have accentuated. Probably for the best, he thought. Nothing worse than torturing himself over something he couldn’t have.
But what he’d give to wake up to her every day….
Amy frowned at him, and he realized he was staring. He quickly snapped into action, attending to the sizzling pan of bacon.
“Did you sleep well?” she asked, sleepily, sitting on a stool at the breakfast bar, watching him. She rubbed her eyes.
“Yes. Yes, fine. You?” Face replied, only glancing at her as he busily moved around the kitchen.
She slowly nodded as she yawned.
“You look like you need some coffee.” Face poured her a cup, not waiting for an answer.
Taking the cup from him, she gave her thanks with a nervous smile.
“Face… I’m sorry about last night.”
“You’ve got nothing to apologise for.” He, on the other hand, had plenty.
“But I asked you to….” Her gaze dropped to the floor not meeting his eyes.
“Hey, Amy, I didn’t mind. Honest.” There was his opportunity. Did he confess now or was it best left unsaid?
He couldn’t confess to this... he just couldn’t.
“Um… nice apartment, by the way,” Amy said suddenly, eyeing the apartment. “I didn’t really pay much attention last night. How do you do it?” she asked dryly, more to herself than him, shaking her head.
Now that he could answer easily. Face smiled confidently as he handed her a plate laden with pancakes, bacon and eggs, relieved she’d changed the subject. She stared, astonished at the amount of food in front of her.
“Hey, you don’t have to eat it all - I got carried away. I thought you might be hungry after last night.”
“Okay, thanks,” she replied taking the plate.
Face watched as she started eating. She frowned at him again.
“Face, are you okay?”
“Uh, yes…” he shook himself out of his thoughts. “Sorry.”
“Eat your breakfast. It’s great. Just what I need.”
“Good.” He smiled, starting on his own.
“I have a feeling I’ve another long day ahead of me,” she said glumly.
Face frowned sympathetically. Knowing Amy, she’d want to be in the office as early as possible to search through Al Massey’s things looking for clues. Should Face remind her of his offer to help her? Or should he leave it until she asked him? Was he better off keeping his distance?
Face glanced at Amy; she smiled at him. Everything seemed to be going okay between the two of them. If she had felt Face this morning, she certainly wasn’t saying. Why rock the boat? He did like how there didn’t seem to be awkwardness between them when these things happened…. Not a habit he should be getting into either, he reminded himself.
Amy pushed her plate away when she had finished her breakfast. Face was pleased to see she’d eaten most of it.
“Was the breakfast okay?” he asked, refilling her coffee cup.
“You know, if I woke up with….” Amy stopped, Face nervously glancing at her. She quickly shook her head, nervously chuckled. “Never mind.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
Face stared at her, a smile creeping over his face. Whatever she felt, he was probably better off not knowing. But he wanted to hear what she had to say and couldn’t stop himself.
“What were you going to say?” Now – was he prepared to act on what she might feel?
“Um… I was going to say, uh, you could cook me breakfast like this all the time,” she said quickly.
He anxiously laughed, taking the dishes away.
“Uh… Face, I’d better get a move on.”
“Do you want a shower?”
“No… No, I’ve got to go home and get some clean clothes anyway…” Amy said hesitantly. “I might as well shower at home.”
She hurried back into the guestroom while Face cleared away the kitchen, once again left in his own thoughts.
So, did he remind her of his offer, or keep his distance?
Distance from Amy…. Is that what he really wanted? No. No it wasn’t. Anyway, would it actually be possible?
He could handle this. He just needed to push these thoughts to the back of his mind. Bury them. Like he’d done before. He really didn’t want their friendship to suffer. He’d rather have friendship with Amy than lose her forever.
Amy hurriedly emerged from the guestroom, dressed in the clothes she’d arrived in last night, her head held strong. Her hair was combed, bag over her shoulder and his shirt slung on her arm.
“Okay, I think I’ve got everything,” she said, confidently, finding her shoes in the living room. “I’ll take your shirt to wash it.”
Face shook his head at her, taking the shirt off her arm. “Don’t be silly, you don’t have to do that.” He walked quickly with her towards the front door, noticing her hurried pace.
“Okay, well, I better go.” She stood hesitantly for a moment, before taking Face’s hand and squeezing it. “Thank you, Face. For everything.”
“Hey, you know you can come find me, anytime.”
She nodded, as Face opened the front door.
“And, Amy, if you need any help with this, just ask, okay?”
“Okay.” She nodded.
“I always carry my lockpicks,” he chuckled, “you know, if you want me to get you into Massey’s.”
She gave a delicate smile, her eyes not properly meeting his. Her confident demeanour seemed to weaken for a moment. Was she as hesitant to leave as he was to let her go?
“Thanks, Face.” Amy hastily kissed him on the cheek and walked out of the door.
Closing the door behind Amy, Face’s smile dropped. There was an ache inside him he rarely felt, and always loathed, because he could do little about it.
Damn, he needed to stop thinking about her and get his shit together. This - whatever the hell this was - didn’t happen to him.
He didn’t let it happen.
Face needed a distraction. Picking up the telephone, he dialled, forcing a smile. Not that the recipient would see it, but they’d hear it.
“Anna-Marie… It’s Michael. I’m sorry about last night, darling…. Uh huh…. So what are you doing say,” Face glanced at his watch, “later this morning?”
~ End ~
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