This story copyright © 2004 Mia McCroskey
The characters from The Avengers and other sources are the property of their respective owners.
[an error occurred while processing this directive]people have read this chapter since May 13, 2004
Steed does the babysitting
Emma makes a run for it
Chapter 13
How big everything is in America, from the cars to the roads to the shopping mall. Being shown around with Mrs. West was fascinating, as much because of her dynamism as for the sights she showed me. She is fiercely patriotic -- at times I felt as if she were trying to convert me to Americanism -- and definitely relies on the strength of her convictions. She is so outspoken, her family and friends must always know where they stand with her. And yet she does not seem rude or overbearing. If anything, she seems like the ideal grandmother. And she adores little Grace. She was also wonderful with John, and he really seemed to take to her. But it was an exhausting day, and it only got worse when we got back and Mrs. Steed did not return on time. Then the men called to tell us something was wrong and I could see that Mrs. West was very afraid for her daughter. How hard it must be to know that your child is involved in a dangerous business and could be killed any time. I've come to accept it as a possibility for my employers, but what if they were my own family? It's an entirely different prospect, I think. Entirely different.
"Roger's not at all upset about Capriccio pulling out of the boat show," Barr said, shaking salt on his mashed potatoes as he spoke. "He said that just today someone called his charter agent and booked the boat for a good part of the summer. So he's all set, once the repairs are made." Barr smiled across the table at Emma, who inclined her head in acknowledgement.
She had assured him that Knight would take care of the repairs before they'd left Annapolis the previous night. And to reassure him, she'd contacted Mr. Lanier this morning and arranged for him to contact Barr directly to work out the details.
Although she'd been hospitalized for the night to ensure that she was not suffering from hypothermia, Amanda had insisted that they all come to dinner --including Barr and, because she heard about it and invited herself, Francine.
Last night Steed and Emma had ridden back to Arlington with Billy Melrose to pick up Siobhan and John from the Stetson home. Throughout the hour-long car ride they'd sat in the back seat with their hands clasped, desperate to cling to one another but unwilling to make such an overt show of their emotional state in the car with the other agents. They'd finally crawled into bed and one another's arms at the inn around three a.m. and slept well into the morning.
"That's great news," Amanda said. "I'd feel awful if the boat didn't get chartered because of us."
"So maybe you'll stick around to skipper her?" Francine asked, shooting Barr a flirtatious smile. "Since Roger will be busy sailing?"
Barr shrugged as he chewed and swallowed a bite of steak. "Maybe. It's the slow season in he islands, so if Roger can pay me..."
"I have the impression that he can," Lee said with a sly smile that Steed and Billy shared. Francine rolled her eyes at them, then returned her attention to Barr, who was dousing the rest of his steak with bottled sauce.
He was not the only one enjoying Amanda's home-cooked dinner as they freely discussed the events of the previous day. Amanda's mother and her sons were all out, and Siobhan was happy in front of the television with John, so there were no secrets to conceal. At least not many. Steed had not discussed the telephone call from Miss Grant with the other agents, other than to convey the identity of the men pursuing Emma. He had resolved not to butt into Emma's business, but he did intend to make his feelings known about her subordinate's behavior. Later.
For her part, Emma had a much more pleasant secret that eventually would be revealed. She was not surprised when Steed guessed it when they were back in their room at the inn.
"So how much time should I plan to spend aboard Capriccio this summer?" he whispered into her ear before moving her hair aside to place a row of kisses along her spine. She sighed into the pillows and lifted her head to turn it toward him.
"Knight Industries will be using the boat for several corporate functions," she replied in her most professional tone, but the effect was spoiled by a sudden giggle in response to his nuzzling the back of her knee. He laughed as he moved to straddle her thighs, running both hands up her back from her ass to her shoulders so that she sighed again with deep pleasure. "It was the least I could do after hijacking it from the boat show," she added.
"Not even a week -- just you and me basking in the sun . . ."
"And Captain Barr."
Now Steed sighed, falling silent as he caressed her arms.
"About Captain Barr," he finally said.
"Yes?"
"I don't like the way he looks at you."
Emma concealed her smile in the pillows. Steed rarely expressed overt jealousy. When he did it was usually so misplaced she found it amusing. This was no different, although she gave Steed credit for sensing the attraction between his wife and the sailor. She wondered if he'd noticed it during their previous encounter. If so, he'd not mentioned it, perhaps because their relationship had already been strained at the time.
"Not to worry, Steed. He's a gentleman," she said. He brought his hands back to her shoulders and began massaging them in earnest.
"And how do you know?" he asked, clearly implying that she should not have had reason to find out.
"Do you really imagine I don't realize just how loaded that question is, darling?" she replied.
He snorted in defeat, bending down to kiss the back of her neck.
"I don't know why I bother to engage in a battle of wits with you," he whispered, adjusting his position to stretch out beside her, one hand still caressing her back, the other supporting his head.
She rolled onto her side to face him, seeing in his eyes that the shadow of jealousy was not entirely banished despite his concession.
"He is an attractive man, and he did express some interest in me. But only until he learned that I am now married."
"And before?"
Her eyes narrowed at him. So he did notice two years ago. "His flirtation was lost on me with you around," she replied smoothly, watching the edges of his mouth curl. Her words sounded like flattery, but they both knew that they were true.
"Perhaps we could persuade Miss Desmond to come along and entertain Captain Barr," he whispered, bringing his hand up to caress her temple lightly. Her lips curled in a contented, kissable smile. So he did, exploring her face, placing feather-light kisses across her cheek and down the side of her neck. He inhaled the velvety, herbal scent of her shampoo and lotion and felt a shiver run down his spine as she ran her fingers lightly over his ribs. He reciprocated, fingertips playing over her breast and down her side, barely more than a tickle.
Her mouth sought his, her kisses growing more urgent as she stroked his back. He felt himself sigh as he melted into her, light touches turning stronger, his big, capable hands stroking from her underarm to her ass and back.
The telephone on the bedside table erupted with a loud, mechanical ring that blew them apart, mouths half open, eyes wide as they stared at one another in surprise. And then as it rang again Emma's smirk met Steed's resigned half shrug and she rolled onto her back to reach for the receiver.
She untangled her other arm from under the pillows and Steed and used it to drag her hair behind her ear, then pressed the receiver to it.
"Hello," she said, unwilling to offer her identity to the caller when not in her home or office. Smiling to himself, Steed reached out and rubbed his hand in slow circles on her bare stomach. "Hold please," she said, placing her free hand on top of his and extending the receiver to him. "For you."
He took it and rolled away from her onto his back.
"Steed here."
Feeling that turnabout was fair play, Emma rose and bent over him, kissing his stomach and then following the trail of hairs downward.
"I see. Good," Steed said, absently reaching down to stroke her hair. His penis stiffened as she tickled the hairs at its base with kisses. "What did he say?" Steed's voice deepend a notch, making her smile. Not for the first time she noticed grey amid the dark pubic hair. Rather than emphasize his age -- or the fact that he was aging -- they made her rejoice at having him, at the life they had that she had once given up on.
Behind her Steed laughed into the receiver. She kissed the side of his thick, hard shaft, then turned her head to look at his face. He was nodding at whoever was speaking, but his eyes locked with hers, an amused twinkle not masking the underlying desire.
"Thank you Frankie. When I can repay the favor I hope you'll call. -- Yes."
Emma sat up so that Steed could stretch across the bed to replace the receiver.
"Vixen!" he growled as he turned back toward her, grabbing her with both arms and pinning her to the bed across its foot. He took her grinning mouth with hungry, grasping kisses, his hands roving over her body in the complete antithesis of his earlier light touches. She responded in kind, spurred by his sudden passion. Her legs parted beneath his. Her hips rose to him, burning for him, found him, quenched him inside herself.
They moved together, slowly at first, mouths roaming over faces, down necks, biting nipples, breathing into ears, shivering and panting and gasping. And moving faster, harder, the raging need building. There were times when they spoke as they made love -- words of passionate encouragement, gratitude for pleasures given and received, and of love -- and there were times like this, when words could not contain the messages they exchanged.
Steed's thrusts drove them across the bed until Emma's head was hanging off the edge, her mouth open in a long, throaty, orgasmic moan. He rose above her on stiff arms, unaware of the deep breath he sucked in to fan the flames in his loins. She gripped his forearms, fingers digging into flesh as his orgasm took him. She raised her head to watch him shake his head from side to side in rhythm with his pulsing organ, gasping, and then groaning as he lowered himself, spent, to his elbows. She ran her fingers through the hair at the back of his neck, smiling contentedly despite the effort to keep her head raised. After a moment he raised his own head to smile back.
"Oh," he said, "Here, love, get up." He rose off of her, backing across the bed, extending his hand to her to draw her with him. She took it and followed him to settle in against the pillows wrapped in his arms. He kissed her temple, then her cheek, sleepily stroking her shoulder with one hand.
"What was the call about?" she asked, stirring him a little.
"Oh that," he chuckled so that she felt the comforting rumble in his chest.
"Yes, that."
"You drove it completely out of my mind."
"Steed."
He chuckled again. "It was a friend who works for a certain organization here in the states."
"An organization associated with yours?"
He nodded. "Our fellows sent over some information that Frankie found very useful. He paid a visit to Remo Mastrontoni at his home in Cherry Hill, New Jersey. It seems there was a terrible misunderstanding. Mr. Mastrontoni expressed his sincere apologies, through Frankie, for any inconvenience that his associates may have caused."
Emma shook her head, smiling ruefully. "I wish I could prevent Knight's detonators from ending up in missiles bought by those people," she sighed. He studied her profile for a moment, fascinated as always by the keen businesswoman who shared his bed.
"You could acquire the missile manufacturer."
Her slow smile as she turned to look into his eyes was genuinely flattering. She thought it was a good idea. He tightened his hold on her, pressing his lips to her forehead.
"Now, if I may meddle a tiny bit further in Knight business, I'd like to discuss Miss Tasha Grant."
fin