This story copyright © 2004 Mia McCroskey
The characters from The Avengers and other sources are the property of their respective owners.
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Steed makes the cut
Emma slides on the ice
Chapter 17
"May I join you?" Steed asked. He was standing in the bathroom naked. His solidly muscled body crisscrossed with scars was a little rounder in the middle than it had been when they'd met, but if anything to her it was even more solidly erotic. He looked too relaxed to feel the need of a soak in warm water. Emma, reclining in the bath, eyed him appreciatively.
"I was hoping you would," she replied, her nostrils flaring as a wave of yearning warmed her to her toes.
Steed climbed into the big bathtub facing her, his legs sliding along the bottom beside her. She ran her hand along his calf to his knee under the water, watching him lay his head back and exhale a long, contented sigh.
After leaving Dr. Barnes's facility they'd stopped at the Bailey training facility -- an army installation where soldiers were trained in SCUBA diving -- to check on Gambit. Emma was not surprised that Steed had known that this was the closest hyperbaric chamber to Barnes's machine. She was sure that he had sought out this information on the chance that a person might end up in the pressurized diamond-creating chamber. Few people knew of his methodical research before delving into every case. It was one of the things she respected the most about him -- his ability to determine what he should know and his quick location and absorption of the information. He liked to compliment her intelligence, but for all his acting the well-mannered fop she knew that he was just as intelligent as she was. She could never have fallen in love with him if he weren't.
Gambit was under pressure in the chamber the equivalent of five-hundred feet below the surface of the sea. They would bring him back to normal pressure very gradually overnight. Steed and Emma had peered in at him through the small window in the chamber, wishing him well over the microphone provided for communication with trainees.
He'd been supplied with food, water, and magazines, but he'd looked rather dejected and Emma could guess that he was feeling very embarrassed for disobeying Steed's orders. Steed had not mentioned it since his initial outburst, but Emma was sure he'd discuss it with Gambit when the junior agent was better. She was glad that Steed had kept Gambit close after the Venice case. She liked him. There was something about Gambit's respect for Steed and Steed's fondness for Gambit that reassured her. She knew she could count of Gambit to watch Steed's back when she could not.
"It seems like we should be packing for a get-away," She observed as Steed relaxed into the bath water.
"A case-closed holiday?" he asked, raising his head to look at her.
"Yes. Do you miss them?"
"Considering that they were a frail attempt at being an ordinary, happy couple, I think that this is by far the better option, love."
Emma was astonished. She had always regarded their post-case trips as a brief chance for them to be just John and Emma on holiday. She had never guessed that he felt that way too.
"And just because we're here at home does not mean we can't pretend that we're somewhere else. We rarely left our room on those trips anyway," he added.
Emma splashed him playfully. "We did too."
"Only for the contrast -- it made returning to our room that much more interesting."
"Rooms."
"Hum?"
"Our rooms. At least we don't have to play that charade anymore," she explained.
"Ah. Another of the many benefits of marriage," he said, stretching his arms high above his head. "You were flirting with Private Klein," he added, flashing her a wolfish smile.
"He was sweet. And I was flattered," she shrugged. If Steed couldn't tolerate a little harmless flirtation, she would have to rethink her own tolerance of his usual behavior around other women.
He continued to smile, studying her speculatively. She finally allowed her eyes to narrow. "What Steed?"
"You actually have doubts about your attractiveness," he said. "Good Lord, Emma, you are spectacular. You have always been spectacular, and you will continue to be so when you are -- I don't know -- eighty!"
"But I must be a decade older than Private Klein. It was flattering to know he found me attractive," she said. Steed continued to stare so expectantly she paused to think through what she'd just said. And then it hit her. She smirked, raising one foot to stroke Steed's chest. "I suppose age doesn't really matter, sometimes," she added, acknowledging the twelve-year difference between them. It has never mattered to me!
"I certainly hope not," he replied, capturing her foot to stroke her ankle and calf.
"There's a difference between men and women, Steed," annoyed with herself for feeling the need to explain her behavior, but doing it anyway. Steed's observation had struck a nerve. "An attractive man is attractive all his life. But women -- a mature woman just doesn't get the same sort of attention as a young one. I'm not feeling so young anymore, Steed."
Steed resisted the urge to tell her that his opinion of her attractiveness was the only one that mattered. The truth was whenever he saw another man admiring Emma he felt a rush of satisfaction that she was his. They could look all they wanted, but his was the bed she shared. He wasn't proud of such brutish feelings, but he admitted them to himself. Since the day they'd met he'd coveted Emma while at the same time treasuring her independence. He'd known then that if he did not accept his own possessive nature, he could never overrule it.
"It depends on your audience, darling," he said. "A man who can't appreciate you is not worth your trouble. And believe me, Emma, I appreciate you more than any other man alive."
Emma lay her head back, her lips curling in amusement. She knew his heart, knew his possessiveness and the inner struggle he waged to maintain his outward demeanor of detachment when they were in public. Flattering attention from men like Private Klein was pleasant, and admiration in the business world was helpful in her role as the head of Knight Industries. But she valued Steed's opinion above all others. That she was attractive to him was what really mattered.
Desiring more contact with him, she rolled up onto her knees to run her hands up his chest and onto his shoulders. His arms settled around her as she lowered her lips to his. She stretched her legs out behind her, sliding to his side and luxuriating in the feel of his flesh against hers.
"Ummmm," he sighed, stroking her shoulders and back. "I appreciate you very much." He traced her brow with one finger, the corners of his lips curling, and kissed her nose, then her lips. "And I love you even more."
They cuddled that way for a long while, exchanging gentle caresses and long, wet kisses until the bathwater turned cool. Then Emma wiggled out of his arms and climbed from the tub, dripping on the mat as she reached for one of the thick towels they kept on hand.
Steed lay in the water, arms along the edges of the tub, legs lying akimbo, watching her dry herself. She favored him with her secretive little smile as she brushed the towel over her breasts. She shut her eyes and inhaled a sharp breath as the towel rubbed her nipples. When she opened her eyes Steed was grinning at her. She tossed the towel over his head and dashed out of the bathroom.
Steed flung the towel aside and climbed out of the tub, reaching under the water to pull the plug as he went. He followed Emma into the bedroom where she was sitting on the bed with her arms around her knees. She released them, stretching out her legs and leaning back on her hands as she watched him. Her enigmatic smile was back, enticing him -- daring him -- to approach.
He started at her feet, kissing each of her toes and then the bottoms of her feet so that she giggled. He kissed his way up her legs, parting her thighs to kiss the sensitive inner flesh leading to the thatch of auburn hair protecting her moist, eager center. She threw her head back, emitting a long, low moan as his kisses touched her, parted her.
He consumed her, his own loins burning hotter and hotter. She shivered under his hands as his tongue triggered a sharp little orgasm. She cried out, a desperate sound that drew him to her. He swarmed up her body, kissing her ribs and between her breasts, then pinching one crimson nipple between his fingers while taking the other between his lips. She cried out again, a sound somewhere between desperation and satisfaction, followed by a gasp as he pressed her down onto the mattress, his pelvis grinding against hers. He took her mouth, consumed her face as he had her loins, with his strong, gentle lips and tongue. She consumed him as well, stroking his bare shoulders and back with her healthy arm and stretching the other one down his body to clutch gently at his ass.
They rolled from her back to his, kissing and touching, sighing and groaning as their powerful desire for one another drove them closer and closer to intense physical joining. They were barely aware when it came, when he used his fingers to part her and drive himself inside. She closed around him, her legs encircling his back, her arms around his neck. For a few blissful moments they were one, moving together, breathing together, searching together for the ecstasy that so defined their love. And then they found it: a blaring whiteness washed over them, draining them of what little thought remained.
Steed slipped to her side and they lay still for a long while as their senses slowly recovered. Eventually he sat up and found the covers. Emma sighed beneath his gentle touch, rolling onto her side to face him. He reached up to trace her brow again, and to touch the tip of her nose and her lips.
"Good night love," he whispered, watching the corners of her mouth curl.
"Here he is," Steed said, leading Emma into Gambit's private room at the ministry clinic. He'd completed his decompression treatment and been moved to the London clinic for a short stay. At a glance Emma could see that he was chafing for his freedom.
"Feeling better then, old man?" Steed asked as set the glasses he'd brought on a table and set about opening the bottle of champagne.
"Much, thanks," Gambit replied. "Well enough to go home. But they won't let me."
"Ah, Gambit, you'll soon learn to do as they say here. They've seen it all," Steed paused to concentrate on removing the mushroom shaped cork without spilling any wine, "and treated more."
Gambit's scowl didn't improve. Emma rounded the bed and leaned down to give him a kiss. As she straightened Gambit shot Steed a triumphant grin. Steed, holding out two glasses of champagne, arched one expressive eyebrow, then grinned back.
fin