Disclaimer: The Equalizer and all its characters are property of Universal and are used here without permission. No copyright infringement is intended.
Never Been Bumped
Dedicated To The Foolish and the Few, who insist that Mickey and Sydney didn’t sleep together that time in "Bump and Run."
Here’s what happened after they finished dinner:
"Cheers," Mickey said
They clinked their glasses and he took a sip of the wine. He had just set his glass down when he heard muffled sobs. Looking at Sydney, Mickey was alarmed to see that she was shaking with tears running down her cheeks.
"Why… should… something like this happen to me?" she just managed to get out. Her accented voice was thick with emotion.
Mickey didn’t know what to say, what to do. The poor girl had been through so much.
She'd been set up as the victim in a bump and run scam but had managed to get away. Then one of the guys had gotten in the way of her car and the accident had happened for real. He'd been killed and now his homicidal buddies were intent on making Sydney pay for having the nerve to ruin their fun.
Weeping harder now, she leaned over and rested her head on his shoulder.
What could he say?
"Shhhh," he whispered.
She began to shudder. She was so close that he could see her beautiful, long eyelashes were heavy with tears. Her face was so close that Mickey could feel the soft, warm air she breathed brush against his lips. She lifted her chin and before he could think, they were kissing.
When they broke apart, she again leaned her head on his shoulder and Mickey couldn’t help himself. He placed light kisses on her lips and forehead.
She was trembling hard now. "So scared. So scared," she whimpered.
The desire to protect her, to hold her – to have her – was powerful.
They kissed again. Then Mickey’s training and willpower took charge and overcame his feelings of desire.
"No!" Mickey shook his head and moved away from Sydney’s lips. They still tasted of wine. "I can’t, I just can’t!"
"But why Mickey? Don’t you like me?" she said as more tears welled up in her eyes. She looked so sad, so alone and so vulnerable. His heart sank.
"Oh no, you’re wonderful. Just wonderful!"
She smiled that shy smile again and moved closer to him, so close he felt her fragrant breath on his mouth again.
"I like you very much, Mickey. I am so alone and afraid. Can you please comfort me tonight? I won’t ask more of you. I know you are busy and so special."
Her lips were brushing his. His body was responding and his will was almost broken.
Then she kissed him again, rising half off her chair, twining her arms around his neck. Her breasts crushed against his chest, making his head swim, his heart pound and his manhood throb.
"N… No No!" He finally rallied and forced her arms from around his neck. Her nearness had almost made him give in.
"No!" he said louder and pushed her away. He scooted his chair back. "This isn’t right Sydney, we hardly know each other. Only one day, it isn’t right!"
Tears started down her face again, shinning in the light. They broke his heart. But he had to be strong. He couldn’t do this now!
"I’m on duty," he said, remembering the story McCall had told him about an agent friend of his who lost his head over a woman placed in his care, and then lost it literally when the enemy found them in bed and killed them.
"Your safety is my responsibility right now. Making sure you’re safe is almost… my sacred duty!" he said, trying to back away from her some more. "But you’ve got to know, I think you’re wonderful."
"But Mickey, I am lonely and afraid and you are refusing to help me!" She stood up from her chair and turned away, sobbing into her hands.
"Sydney," he made his voice as tender as he could. "I care about you, I do. But now isn’t the time. We can’t. Really."
"I don’t understand," she turned towards him again. "I am all alone here in this country, all alone and now these awful man are trying to hurt me." She shook her head, her curls flying, her chin up, the white, smoothness of her throat tugged at him to kiss her.
"Please Mickey!" she charged at him, grabbing his sweater. "Please, don’t reject me. Please!" She pulled at his sweater harder and he felt it ride up.
The temptation to give in was almost too strong but Mickey remembered his duty at the last moment. He stood up, steped back and bent over, letting the pullover slide off his body.
Sydney looked at the empty sweater clutched in her hands with sad eyes. She held it in her arms, cradling it to her bosom.
"You really mean it? No cuddle cuddle?"
His heart shattered, but Mickey shook his head. "Sorry Sydney, I can’t. It just wouldn’t be right. No."
She looked at him whimpering softly, then still holding his sweater close to her, she turned and went into the bedroom. Alone.
Mickey wiped the sweat off his forehead. That was sure close.
He stood for a couple of more minutes, waiting for the throbbing in his groin to calm down, letting the hard-on he had developed when Sydney kissed him over the wine retreat a bit.
He stared at his toothpick Parthenon. When he finished it, the whole of the Acropolis would be three quarters done. He could paint it to look like what the history books said the original looked like, or he could just shellac it. He wasn’t sure. Maybe he should do it all up like the real one? He knew a place that sold all the things he would need to make it look authentic, fake grass and all. Then maybe mount it in a glass box. Then he could—
Sydney was shrieking from her bedroom! Adrenalin rushed through his body as Mickey palmed the gun at the small of his back and ran to the room.
"Ohhhh, Mickey!" he heard again just as he got to the doorway. And the sight there made his chin hit the deck.
Sydney was lying on her back on the bed. Naked. His sweater had been stuffed with a pillow and set on top of her body. She was writhing on the bed, groaning, making little mewling noises as one of her hands rubbed the sweater over her breasts and the other had the sleeve moving in-between her legs.
"Oh, Mickey, yes. That’s so good!" she squealed gently as her hands directed the sweater to rub faster. "Oh. It’s so good, good, good. Mickey!" she gasped.
He slumped against the door frame, all of his senses still on a massive high as the adrenalin had nowhere to go. He was painfully aware of the rock hard boner that had sprouted with his first view of what she was doing on the bed.
God, she was making him crazy!
"Ahhh, oh Mickey!" she groaned, "do it harder, lover, Oh yes!" The hand working her cuz was vibrating like a piston and she had spread her legs wider so that he could see all the way to heaven.
"Mickey, oh, Mickey, please!" she whimpered as she started to shake her head, making her curly hair fly around her face. She was gasping and biting her lower lip, throwing her head back in a sexual frenzy.
Sweat poured off him and Mickey felt himself throbbing painfully now. In his rush to the room and with the huge wood he had grown, his dick had somehow gotten into a really bad position. His erection was painful. He had to adjust himself, but he knew that if he so much as touched his jeans, he would have to liberate himself and then it would be a half second until he was on top of Sydney, doing the deed.
He knew he shouldn’t, couldn’t give in to her. He was working. He was a pro. He was –
Jesus! He was going to die if she didn’t stop diddling herself!
On the bed, Sydney opened her eyes to stare at him in a silent plea to join with her in the pleasure. She opened her mouth and licked her lips as she panted, making sure her tongue flickered at him.
A burst of lust poured through him as he watched her, but he set his feet solidly in place. He wouldn’t budge. He was working dammit! He had given his word to McCall that he would protect this woman!
But God, it was so hot in that doorway! Hardly knowing what he was doing, he started to undo the buttons over his chest.
Sydney smiled when he opened his shirt, but then pouted when she saw that he wasn’t moving towards her. "Ooooo, Mickey", she set her voice high, like a little girl. Mickey felt his need for her fill his groin with additional fire.
"No?" she whimpered, still working her hands over her body. "Please, Mickey. Oh please let me see that you care for me." She grabbed one small breast in her hand and tweaked her nipple. "Ohhh, so good!"
"No," Mickey croaked, having little breath to speak with. It was so hot and he was sweating so bad! The shirt had to come off or he’d pass out. Soon it was crumpled in his hand.
"Mickey. Mickey. Mickey," Sydney murmured and set her large and limpid eyes on him. "Please come here?"
Mickey wanted to join her, but he knew that he would be swept away with lust in a moment. And he was a professional dammit, he wasn’t a kid who couldn’t control himself. This wasn’t like when they went shopping for food and he held both bags. If they had been attacked, the bags would have been used against the opposition and dropped in a blink of an eye and his gun would have been firing before the punks knew what was happening.
If he gave in now, he’d be off guard, and they’d both be vulnerable to attack. No. He dare not take one step closer to her.
He wiped his face with the shirt, trying to get the sweat out of his eyes.
"Please, Mickey!" Sydney held a hand out to him. Without thinking Mickey threw his shirt at her.
"OHH!" she grabbed at it like a hungry tiger pouncing on a bloody steak, and screamed as she sat up. Pushing the pillow with the sweater in-between her legs, she buried her face in his wet shirt. In another second she had turned her back on him, and was on her knees astride the cushion, grinding her bush into it.
"Ohhh," she moaned, her nose deep in his clothing. "Yes, yes, do it harder Mickey, harder. "Ooooo Mickey, Mickey, deeper, I need to feel it in me!"
Mickey nearly fell over. The view he had was of her ass the air, the round orbs shivering as she was humping the hell out of the sweater covered pillow. With every bump he’d get a look at her balloon knot and – Oh God, the sleeve of his sweater was balled, stuffed into her tunnel of love! Mickey felt his heart pounding in time with his painfully engorged dick.
She begged loudly, "Come on, harder, harder!" and she doubled her efforts, moving with madness.
The sense of urgency in her voice and her obscene movements right in front of him called to be answered, and he nearly raised a foot to move towards her, answering her plea.
But No! No! He would never lose his concentration on the case at hand while on duty. He would never… never… never…
He found his mind following her ass as it jumped up and down. His head was filled with the sounds she was shouting and his body throbbed even more.
God, he was going to die!
Sydney looked over her shoulder at him and smiled. She must have seen the look of pure lust on his face, the sweat pouring of every pore – and the huge bulge in the front of his jeans.
Suddenly Sydney pivoted and turned her body to face him.
On her knees now, she mounted the pillow again, her eyes on him, her mouth open and panting. She grabbed the shirt and began to smooth it over her nipples. To Mickey, the stuffed sweater between her long, smooth, alabaster thighs looked like the chest of a man. He could be that man, he could be feeling her rubbing, rubbing…
Oh God, every moment he stayed away from her was an eternity of agony.
"Yes, yes, Mickey!" she shrieked as she ground herself harder on the pillow and rubbed violently at her nipples.
Mickey felt the powerful throbbing in his dick begin to tug at his hips. He was going to come and by God he no longer cared! The old familiar rush of pleasure began…
By the time Sydney collapsed on the bed, spent and panting, Mickey already felt his load warming the front of his jeans.
Without a glance at him, Sydney, with a slow grace, got up and put her robe on. Then she picked up his discarded shirt, buried her face in it and then smoothed it out and placed it on the foot of the bed. She did the same to his sweater and, still not looking at him, she languidly walked to the side of the bed and lay down.
Mickey held his breath. What was that woman going to do now?
The moment her head hit the pillow, Mickey heard regular and deep breathing. She had fallen asleep!
It took a couple of seconds for him to regain his composure. There he was, a grown man, standing, watching a beautiful woman and he had jizzed his pants. Dammit!
Doing his best not to make the mess worse, he pivoted on his heel and duck walked, knees out, to the bathroom. When he got there he looked at the widening dampness on his jeans and groaned.
He opened his zipper and tried to pull his pants down without doing more damage, but it was hopeless. There was cum all over the place, all over his groin and smearing the length of his legs with every inch he pulled the pants down. A wad of toilet paper stuck in the mess didn’t help any. The paper wouldn’t absorb it, just spread it around.
God damn it!
At least he had packed a change of clothing when McCall had told him he had a babysitting job for him. Pushing off his shoes, he peeled off his jeans and briefs and dabbed at the goo on his body as he wadded the clothing up.
His bag was in the living room, so he had to walk through the apartment to get it. First he peered into Sydney’s bedroom. She was still sleeping soundly. Good, he didn’t want to be embarrassed in front of her.
Naked and sticky, he padded barefoot to the living room, opened his bag and withdrew briefs and another pair of pants. He knew he’d have to take a shower to clean himself up, there was no way that the cum would come off without hot water, soap and scrubbing.
Before he went to the bathroom, he double checked the lock and the door. He didn’t like the idea of taking a shower while on duty. It was bad – security wise – but if he hurried he could clean off and be dressed in five, maybe seven minutes. That was a doable risk.
In six minutes flat he was out of the shower, clean and half dressed, the door of the bathroom open, and his gun at the ready, tucked into the waistband of his fresh jeans.
Just as he was brushing his hair, he heard someone near the front door and he tensed, going toward it and grabbing at his gun. In a moment the doorbell rang. He relaxed. It must be McCall. Damn, he didn’t have time to get a new shirt on. He’d have to risk McCall’s wrath. He checked out the peephole and opened the door.
"McCall." He just caught a glimpse of McCall’s friendly smile before he turned to hurry back to the bathroom.
The brush in his hand, Mickey had finished his hair when McCall burst into the bathroom and shut the door. The heat of McCall’s fury was palpable.
"It wasn’t what you think." Mickey wasn’t going to tell Robert what really happened. It was too embarrassing.
McCall’s eyes tunneled into his. "Some years ago, a colleague of mine, on a simple job, rather like this one, decided he was going to have a little fun. During the course of that little bit of fun, the opposition came in and destroyed them both."
Sheesh, he knew that story. McCall told it to him before.
Looking even angrier, McCall glared at him. "You were supposed to protect that girl – not seduce her."
Now Mickey was getting angry. What did that man believe, he was a kid? "It wasn’t what you think."
He still wasn’t going to tell McCall what really happened. Mickey kept his pecker in his pants like he should, he didn’t have to explain himself to anyone. "What happened between us is our business."
"Wrong!" McCall bellowed. "That girl was under my protection. Anyone under my protection is very much my business."
Mickey kept quiet, his anger smoldering.
McCall hadn’t moved an inch. "Get out."
His anger flared up. "No, I’m not leaving. The most important thing in the world to me right now is Sydney’s safety. Even more important to me than what you think. So I’m staying."
McCall continued to stare and Mickey continued to meet his glare. He wasn’t going to blink or back down, not now. But it looked like McCall’s will was as strong.
"Mickey, if anybody is staying, I am. Those two men have been picked up. She’s in no danger."
No danger? Then all his self-control was for nothing? He could have banged her with no threat of any danger? Sheesh!
"Good night," McCall said, and opened the bathroom door for Mickey to go out.
He saw that it would be no use, if he tried to explain what really happened, McCall wasn’t in the mood to hear him. They’d fight for sure.
Well, now that Sydney wasn’t in any danger, Mickey figured he’d get home, do a thorough clean up and call Sydney later for a real date.
Still angry, he left the bathroom and steered into Sydney’s bedroom. She was still sleeping and he saw his shirt and sweater at he foot of the bed and swooped in to pick them up. He went into the living room, slipped his shirt on, picked up his bag and went to leave. Jesus he could smell her all over the clothing! He glanced up to see if McCall had noticed anything as he moved.
He was about to step out when McCall appeared at the door. Mickey’s temper matched his mentor’s. The two stared at each other for what seemed like a long time.
"It was bad timing, Mickey," McCall said, his voice surprisingly calm.
Mickey thought about it for a second. That hit him as about right, so he looked down, his anger a little drained.
He nodded and left the apartment.