Disclaimer: The Equalizer and all its characters are property of Universal and are used here without permission. No copyright infringement is intended.

Bucharest 1982

After washing up, lying against the lumpy pillow, the sheets rough against his naked skin, Mickey thought about when Serena had said goodbye to him earlier that evening. Propped up on one elbow, he had watched her dress, and had felt disappointed when her ill-fitting clothes covered the slim but curvaceous body that was used for his pleasure alone.

She'd sat on the bed to kiss him goodbye and he remembered that he had enjoyed the feeling of power over her as he wound his fist into her hair and pulled her face down to his, kissing her roughly and thrusting his tongue between her lips.

When Mickey had first landed in Romania, he'd made contact with Serena Fallagi and did as he had been ordered. He had taken her in and used her covertly and sexually, making sure that there was plenty of evidence to convince the KGB that she was a traitor, if it became necessary.

What he hadn't planned on was that, just maybe, he was falling in love with her.

He had carried out similar missions at other times and he had never allowed himself to feel anything towards the women, they were merely the means to the end for him.

The first time he nailed Serena he felt like an observer, outside of his own body. Hell, he'd even admired his own technique when she told him that no one had made her feel so good before. It had been a straight forward job then, his sole purpose to move her loyalty from the KGB to him.

Mickey threw back his still damp hair, stretched his neck and rolled his shoulders to take some of the tension out of his body. He bunched the bed sheet up and threw it across the room, allowing the cool spring air to caress his naked skin.

Absent mindedly, he stroked his nearly limp cock. He grinned to himself; he sure hadn't been limp earlier when she had sucked him off. Remembering the sight of his hard-on enveloped by her red, glistening lips, he smiled.

Before long he started to think about everything that had happened that day. He had discovered the name of a traitor that had infiltrated his group at a Company dead drop that morning and had been able to lure him into the basement of a deserted, bombed out building. It hadn't taken Mickey any time to beat a confession and the name of his accomplice out of the man.

Capturing the second traitor had been easy and after Mickey had worked him over with his fists, the man had wept and swore that he hadn't reported the group to the KGB or Securitate, the Romanian secret police, yet.

Because there was no way the Company could pick up and keep the traitors under wraps, he had to follow orders. He had executed them both, coldly and clinically. As usual, and he never really understood why, killing the two men with his bare hands made him horny as hell. He had ordered Serena to meet him at his place when her shift at the factory finished.

Draping a hand over his eyes, Mickey remembered that he had pulled her into his room, almost tearing the clothes from her body in a desperate need to calm himself down and to forget. His need for a warm body was the only thing in his mind.

It had still been light when he and Serena had stumbled to the narrow bed, locked in a feverish embrace that could only have one ending. He had taken her roughly, wanting to use her to reaffirm that he was still alive. But he had been too rough and she had pushed him away, telling him he was hurting her.

She had wanted to know why he was acting that way, if they were in danger, or if the Securitate had discovered her betrayal. He had tried to reassure her, but he had been unable to explain what demons were driving him.

Angry with himself, and ashamed of the look of hurt he had put on her face, he had climbed off the bed. He hurt his fist when he took a swing at the wall, but after releasing some of his pent up anger he found he couldn't stop. He threw the already battered wooden chair across the room where it hit the wall with a satisfying crash.

He had just picked up the remaining chair when Serena jumped out of bed and ran over to him, putting her arms around him. He tried to shake her off but she stuck to him. Taking his face between her hands she stared into his eyes, making him uncomfortable. She told him she wanted to help him.

So he told her about the executions, and she had kissed him, winding her arms around his neck. She had told him to come back to bed and that she understood, that she loved him, and knew what he desired.

His need had overwhelmed him and they had fallen onto the bed together.

Later, he had wanted to make it up to her but, he had screwed her again without thinking much about who he was doing at all. He hadn't been aware of anything but the insistent voice inside his head that told him he must ram himself into her until his cock and body were exhausted. That was the only way he could forget - until the next time.

Drifting, almost asleep, he promised himself that he would explain everything to her tomorrow. At least he remembered with a satisfied sigh, he didn't have to worry about getting her pregnant. She had told him the first time they were together that she couldn't have kids. It had taken some coaxing, but in the end she had told him the whole story.

She had always been a wild teenager and when her parents had been killed in an accident she became reckless, sleeping with anyone and everyone. She had two abortions before she was seventeen and the last had been a botched job; she had nearly bled to death. The hospital had been able to save her life but she wouldn't ever be able to have kids.

Mickey grinned as he thought of their first time together. He had gotten her drunk and on the pretext of needing to talk to her, he had lured her here to his room where they had shared most of a bottle of black market scotch. Unused to high quality booze that hadn't been watered down, she had fallen into his arms easily.

He thought of the way her callused and work roughened hands had felt against his skin when she stroked him The way she had called out his name when she came. Doing what his training manual had suggested, he had made sure she came over and over. How did that damn manual describe it? Oh yeah - tying her to him with silken bonds of lust and desire. Mickey snorted, very poetic!

It hadn't surprised him when she had given him the best blowjob he had ever known but it did surprise him that no one had ever gone down on her. Later that night, she had cried out with pleasure when he made her come with his fingers, lips and tongue. From that moment, she had been his.

Suddenly he felt the pride of a job well done turn sour on him as pangs of shame tore into his gut. Angry that his thoughts had stirred up more guilt, he cursed the Catholic Church. He knew that the life he led was wrong according to their teachings, but he lived in the real Goddamned world. If it wasn't for grunts like him in the trenches, getting their hands dirty, the church wouldn't even be around to preach against sin.

Sometimes their hypocrisy sickened him. Like Nick, his younger brother, who was so devoted to Catholicism that he joined the church and used God to clobber him over the head whenever they discussed Mickey's lifestyle. There was no way his innocent, younger brother could understand or forgive what he had to do for his job.

Needing to sleep, he got up and padded over to the door and made sure it was locked securely. It wouldn't be long before the Company sent him to some other God forsaken place so he felt good that there was an escape plan already in place for him and Serena if the Securitate decide to roll up his group. All that was left to do was to make sure the ring of agents he had set up was solidly in place and able to operate in relative safety gathering information - with an occasional piece of sabotage thrown in.

He wondered how McCall or Control would react when she came out with him. Hell, they would probably be overjoyed at the prospect of another propaganda coup.

As he smoothed his pillow, he remembered Serena's hurt expression when she had told him she loved him and he could hardly bring himself answer her. He had responded coldly, automatically replying, I love you too, and from the way her face fell, Serena had known that there wasn't much sentiment behind the way he said it. But then, he honestly wasn't sure that he was capable of loving anyone.

Closing his eyes once more, he sought forgetfulness.

He had no idea how long he'd been asleep when a hammering on his door and Dmitri's voice screaming awakened him, "You must get out Misha! The Securitate have raided four of our places. They will be here next!"

As he jumped from the bed, his first thought was of Serena. He prayed that she was still alive, but with the other cells already in the hands of the Securitate, he knew now that there was little hope he would ever get to see her again.

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