I invented an original character called Sam Brown. She worked for British Intelligence and I thought it would be fun to have her work with Robert and Mickey on an assignment. I also thought it would be fun if Sam and Mickey were attracted to each other. This is what happens at the end of their assignment together.
The ongoing adventures of Mickey and Sam can be found on our adult fan fiction site, 42nd Street
The celebration party began to wind down and, anxious to prepare the dining room for tomorrow's breakfast, the restaurant staff persuaded the remaining revellers to go into the bar area. While Robert and Control found some seats, Sam volunteered to get more drinks; Mickey offered to help her.
While they were waiting to be served, Sam looked at Mickey; she knew she was slightly tipsy, but he appealed to her on a very basic level. She had been in their profession too long to expect a long term relationship with anyone, the two were mutually exclusive as far as she was concerned.
Waiting for the barman to serve them, she said softly, "I hear you have to sleep on the floor, in Robert's room, tonight."
He shrugged as he replied, "Yeah, well it won't be the first time. The hotel didn't have enough rooms for everyone, so McCall gave up ours and they only managed to find us a very small single room."
Haltingly, because she had never propositioned anyone quite so blatantly before, she said, "I've got my own room, and it's got a double bed. You could share with me if you wanted." His answer was unspoken, just a seductive smile that made her toes curl. Then she continued, "Of course there would have to be some form of payment."
Mickey looked at her quizzically, and she could see that he was wondering if he had misread the situation. She hoped her answering smile was encouraging. She decided it must have been when he said, "Sure, I understand about paybacks. Would it be hard for me to meet your price?"
"Not for someone like you, I'm sure." Sam answered slowly. What on earth had possessed her to say anything? She'd never done anything like this before.
The man serving the drinks had finished their order and had gone on to the next customer. When he was out of earshot, Mickey asked, "What did you have in mind?"
"Nothing difficult, just a little help with something."
As Sam hoped, Mickey seemed to love this sort of word play and she was pleased when he eased closer to her so that their bodies were just touching. "What do you need help with?" His voice was soft and caressing and Sam knew it would be very easy to fall head over heels in love with this guy, if she let herself.
He sipped his drink and Sam looked over at the two older men; they were engrossed in their conversation. Tantalisingly, she said, "Wait here a minute while I take these drinks over to the others."
She was aware of his eyes following her as she moved across the room. She returned then and stood facing him, he curled an arm around her waist and pulled her closer. Their bodies touching once more, she rested her hands against his chest and began to toy with the buttons of his shirt.
"So what is it you need help with?"
Licking suddenly dry lips, she began. "I've got an itch and I need help to scratch it."
"Sounds serious. How long have you had it?"
"Almost six months now. I've tried to scratch it by myself but it's not the same as having some help."
"I know. It's okay, I'm real good with itches. I've had lots of practice." His voice was low and husky and she found herself drawn closer until he bent his head and touched her lips lightly with his. "Do you think we ought to go and take care of it now? You never know, it might get worse."
Sam could taste the scotch he had just drunk. She nodded, "That sounds like a good idea," finishing her drink in one gulp, she let him lead her out of the bar.
From where he was sitting, Robert nodded towards the departing figures, "I don't think Mickey is going to be sleeping on my floor tonight."
Control stared thoughtfully, "Why doesn't that surprise me? Well, as long as there are no long-term complications, I don't have a problem with it." He paused for a moment, "I'm very grateful, Robert. I hope you know how much."
"Of course I do." With a chuckle Robert continued, "I shall remind you of this conversation the next time I need a favour."
"You do that, old friend. You do that." With a contented sigh, the senior man stood up and, only weaving slightly, he followed the younger people from the room.
In Sam's room, the door was barely closed behind them, before they were locked in an urgent embrace. Ears, necks and mouths were eagerly explored, as they tugged at buttons, belts and zippers. Breathing heavily, she pulled away for a moment, "Do you have any...?"
"Sure.... One of McCall's...favourite sayings is.... 'a good agent is always prepared.'" He said between kisses.
"I thought..... it was... Boy Scouts?" Sam gasped when his hand touched her skin.
"Never been a Boy Scout." He whispered.
Their clothing fell like confetti between the doorway and the bed and as they came together between the cool crisp sheets, Mickey wished fervently that every mission could end as pleasurably.
The following morning, an enjoyable wrestling match was rapidly turning into something much more passionate. Mickey had just, with some effort, managed to pin Sam down when there was a loud knocking on the door. He was undoubtedly the stronger, but she had no compunction about fighting dirty.
Mickey groaned, "That's got to be McCall, he has a sixth sense when it comes to disrupting my love life."
Looking down at the woman trapped under him, Mickey saw a glint of mischief in her eyes. "So, let's ignore him, he might go away."
He muttered, "McCall won't. Stay right there and I'll go see what he wants."
He grabbed a towel from the bathroom and wrapped it around his waist before he opened the door. As he had expected, McCall was standing there, showered and smartly dressed, hardly looking any the worse for wear after the previous night's drinking. His and Mickey's bags were at his feet.
"Come on Mickey, you'll miss the plane." Mickey could hear Sam giggling behind him.
"Didn't Control tell you? He's given me a weeks vacation."
"A week off? No, he didn't."
"Don't forget Robert, when you dragged me into this thing, I'd only been back from Beirut for three hours."
"It must have slipped my mind."
"It usually does." He snorted. "Last night Control said I was due a little R & R and Sam has offered to show me around."
Mickey saw that Robert didn't want to enquire further about his sightseeing plans, he probably didn't want to know the answer anyway. "Control must be mellowing in his old age." Robert commented
"Yeah, right." Mickey said.
"I'm sorry I disturbed you both, I'll see you in a week then?" he passed Mickey his hold all bag. "Goodbye, Sam." He called out, "It's been good to meet you." Mickey could see the older man's indecision, and knew he wanted to say goodbye properly but the circumstances didn't allow for such niceties.
"Goodbye, Robert," she managed to control her giggles for long enough to reply.
"See ya McCall." He closed the door and turned back to the woman waiting for him. Dropping the bag and then the towel, as he walked back towards the bed, Mickey said, "Now, where were we?"
Sam pulled him down beside her, her hands resuming their eager exploration, "Right about here, I think."
5 months later
Sam jolted, suddenly fully awake, when the phone beside her bed rang. Having a good idea who might be ringing this early, she picked up the receiver eagerly. "Hello?"
"Hi, I didn't wake you did I?"
She recognised the deep voice immediately and was amazed at her body 's response to his few innocent words. A smile appeared on her face and she replied, "No, I was already awake. How are you?"
"I'm fine, I finished de-briefing today and I have a couple of weeks before they are likely to send me anywhere else."
"It must be late there, have you just got home?"
"Yeah, Robert treated me to dinner." There was an awkward silence for a few seconds before he rushed to fill the void. "I got your message, is everything ok?"
"It's difficult to say." Her voice was thick and it was suddenly hard for her to talk.
His voice was low and gentle. "Can I help?"
"I need to see you, Mickey." It had been difficult to say the words because it meant revealing feelings she had vowed never to share with anyone. By saying something she was admitting that she wasn't in control any longer.
He was silent for a moment and she guessed he was thinking. "Can you get some vacation time now?"
"Yes, they have signed me off for at least two weeks."
"Robert has a cabin upstate and I was thinking of taking off and doing some fishing, do you want to come with me?"
"Yes, I'd like that. If I find out about flights today, I can ring you later this evening, my time."
"Look, if I don't answer, leave a message on the machine. I'll meet you at the airport, we can go straight from there."
"I'll call you tomorrow with all the details."
"Okay, have a good day." The last was said in a voice no louder than a whisper, almost like a caress, and she was instantly transported back to her last visit to New York.
She had managed to arrange a weekend stopover, when she knew Mickey was going to be in town, on her way back from the Far East. It had been a glorious weekend, it had been as though they hadn't been apart and, other than a trip to the supermarket to buy groceries, they hadn't left Mickey's small apartment all weekend.
Too keyed up to stay in bed any longer, she threw back the covers and got up. She wandered down to the kitchen to make some tea. While she waited for the kettle to boil, Sam thought about herself and Mickey. It had all started with a chance meeting. She shrugged, maybe it was all down to kismet. She wasn't sure what was in the future but she was going to enjoy the present, especially the chance for them to spend two weeks together.
In the bathroom, she waited until the water was warm enough before she climbed into the shower. Picking up the soap she began to wash, running her soapy hands over her body. She remembered how it had been with Mickey that last morning. They had showered together, and he had stroked and teased her, until she had clung to him, too weak to stand. Then, he had made love to her again, guiding her to a place where she was aware of nothing, apart from his body against hers and her need for him.
Giving herself a mental shake, she stepped out of the shower and wrapped herself in a large, soft towel. Drying off quickly, she put on a loose robe and ate some breakfast. Breakfast over, she dressed quickly, if she managed to get in to London early, she would be able to book her ticket right away.
After the plane landed in NY and she had collected her baggage, Sam waited impatiently for the queue at immigration control to move. She had been in line for at least twenty minutes and the tension was telling. Being this close, she couldn't wait to see him again. At last, it was her turn, and she was genuinely pleased that she could answer the immigration officers questions honestly. Her reason for visiting was purely and simply a vacation. He examined the forms she had completed on the plane, stamped her passport and she was free to proceed.
Mickey threw his half-finished cup of coffee away, he hated waiting. He knew that it was his fault. In his eagerness to see Sam again he had left home far too early. Her flight was due to arrive at 10:30am and he knew it would take at least thirty minutes for her to clear immigration and customs, but here he was at 10:30am pacing the arrivals lounge.
He paced some more and found himself studying the other people in the terminal building. Without thinking he was checking, looking for trouble. Dammit Kostmayer! You are on vacation, relax. Oh well, he figured that sort of thinking had kept him alive this long, maybe he shouldn't be too hard on himself.
For something to do, he wandered over and looked at the monitor giving details of flights, estimated time of arrival and landings, again. Amazed, he saw that something was going right, her flight from London, had landed ahead of schedule.
He couldn't believe that it was only five months ago that they had met for the first time. Then he had seen exactly what she had wanted him to see, a cold ruthless professional. Later, when the assignment had been completed, they had made love for the first time and he had discovered some of the real person hidden under the tough outer shell.
The five days he had spent with her in England had flown by and they had parted as friends with no strings. But, instead of being able to forget her, he had found himself longing for her company. There had been a completely coincidental meeting in Paris, a month later. They'd met at the airport by chance and when their separate flights had been cancelled due to fog, they had spent the night together. The night in a hotel, courtesy of the airlines, had passed far too quickly. Then, there had been a long hot weekend, some weeks later, when she came to New York
Lovers. The word didn't do justice to what they had shared. Their lovemaking had always been wild and uninhibited and what had started as a purely physical attraction was now in danger of becoming much more. A deeper, spiritual bond had begun to form between them. Mickey couldn't even begin to understand, let alone explain how it had happened. All he knew was that somewhere deep inside he was aware of Sam's continuing presence, a presence that was caring and loving, something he would carry with him always.
Snapping out of his reverie, he noticed that the number of passengers in the arrivals lounge had increased and from their luggage tags, he could see they were from London. Then he saw her, he had almost forgotten how small and slight she looked. The look was deceptive, he had felt the strength in her small frame and knew that her immense willpower would keep her going after many stronger men had admitted defeat. Without thinking, he slipped through the crowd to her side.
Passing through customs, her bags balanced precariously on the baggage cart, Sam followed the line of people out into the arrivals hall, looking around, anxious to spot Mickey. When she saw the familiar light brown hair, she waved and, without realising it, broke into a beaming smile, her first in days.
As usual, he slipped through the crowd effortlessly, most people not even registering his passing. Then he was right there, next to her, and she was in his arms. Their lips met in a kiss that was dizzying in its intensity.
Coming up for air, they were suddenly aware of the spectators watching their extremely passionate reunion. Taking her bags, he said, "The car's this way, come on." Following his rapid progress, they soon stopped beside a four-wheel drive vehicle. Unlocking it, he opened the back and put her bags inside. When he turned to her, he was smiling once more, "I'm glad you're here."
They quickly slipped back into the easy rapport that had grown between them; the silences were comfortable and they found subjects of conversation easily. She waited, wanting to pick the right time to tell him what was bothering her. Her one hope was that it wouldn't change the way he thought of her.
It had taken Sam some time to realise that, for probably the first time in her life, there was someone she could talk to who would understand. She was reluctant to spoil that.
"How far is this cabin and what's it like?"
"About another hour. Robert has arranged for all the supplies that we need to be delivered directly so we don't have to worry about that. The cabin? Hmm... well it was built about fifty years ago, but don't worry, Robert has had some modifications done since he bought it a couple of years back. We shouldn't have to rough it too much."
Sensing some trick, she stayed quiet. She knew Mickey's sense of humour well and fully expected that there was something about the cabin that he wasn't telling her. It probably didn't have any indoor plumbing. Sam had roughed it quite a bit recently and she wasn't too keen on carrying on in the same way. She had been looking forward to a bit of luxury. Keeping her thoughts to herself, she turned to watch the scenery.
Silence resumed between them and soon, lulled by the motion of the car, she fell asleep.
Sam woke, sensing cessation of motion. She hadn't been aware of dozing off but looking at her watch she could see she had slept for over an hour. Looking around, she saw they had stopped on the main street of a small town. "Are we here?"
"Nearly, the cabin's about a mile outside of town, right beside the lake. Sam studied the small town as they drove. The buildings looked old and well cared for, the scarcity of souvenir shops indicated that the town hadn't made it to the tourist trail yet; but given the natural beauty of the surroundings she thought it wouldn't be long before the incursions started. Mickey explained that the sheriff of the town, Lucas Grant, was an old friend of Robert McCall's and that after a visit a few years back, McCall had decided to look for a place locally.
The site was ideal; it was far enough away from the city to mean it was a vacation but too far for weekend visitors. When Lucas had told him about the cabin, Robert had jumped at the chance. Because the property needed a fair amount of work, he had acquired it for a reasonable price.
By now they had left the main road and Mickey eased the large 4-wheel drive over the dirt road carefully. He fell silent, concentrating on driving. He had told her that Robert had decided against doing anything with the access road initially because of the cost, but then because the lack of an easy path kept the curious away.
They rounded the last bend and Sam gasped when she saw the cabin. It was incredible. It was a single story structure set about fifty yards back from the edge of the lake. There was a small jetty pointing into the water with a small dinghy tied up to it. The cabin was built of split logs and it was huge; the timbers on one side were lighter and less weathered than the other and Sam guessed that this was evidence of the building work that had been done. A veranda ran all around the house and Sam could see two sets of glass sliding doors on the newer side of the building. A large window looking into a lounge dominated the right hand side and there was a conservatory built the length of the same side of the building. Getting out of the car Sam was struck by the absence of anything except the sounds of nature, she could hear birds and the wind in the trees but no cars or people
Sam turned to Mickey, "You're terrible you know. You had me believing that we were going to stay in a cabin with little more than four walls, instead this is a palace."
"Well, I wanted to surprise you."
"Believe me I'm surprised."
The room they would share was large and bright. A sliding glass door with brightly patterned curtains faced out over the front of the property and the large, wrought iron bed had a matching quilt. The room had it's own bathroom, with a shower and bathtub. The muted grey carpet from the hallway continued into the room and when Sam kicked off her shoes it was soft and warm underfoot. Dropping her bags she moved her shoulders trying to un-knot them. Without comment, Mickey came and stood behind her and gently massaged her neck. She relaxed and let his hands work their familiar magic. After a few moments, she felt his breath against her ear, "Shall I get some wine?"
"That sounds wonderful, I need to take a shower."
"Okay, I'll bring the wine in here."
Sam stood in the large shower cubicle letting the powerful jets of water play over her neck and shoulders. She wasn't surprised when the door to the shower opened and Mickey slipped in with her. "I thought you might need some help. Shall I scrub your back?"
She smiled at him and, sliding her arms around his neck, pulled his head down to hers.
It was past eleven when they arrived back at the cabin after eating out at a local restaurant. Sam yawned. Mickey had noticed her yawning several times on the way back.
He came up behind her and put his arms around her waist. "You tired?" He asked softly.
Sam relaxed back against him, "Um... I seem to be working on some serious sleep debt here. The last few weeks have been hectic."
He released her and pushed her gently towards the bedroom, "Go to bed. I'll lock up and be there in a minute."
Sam had propped some pillows against the wrought iron bed head and was sitting reading when Mickey came into the room.
By the time he had finished in the bathroom, she had turned out the light on her nightstand. He slipped into bed and she moved closer to him. He lifted his arm and she rested her head on his shoulder, draping one leg over his thighs and her arm around his waist.
He stroked her arm absently,
"That sheriff you introduced me to at the restaurant, Robert's old friend from the Company - Lucas - seems like a nice guy. Did you ever work with him?"
"No, he was working behind a desk when I joined the Company. I think McCall worked with him a few times."
"How long have he and his wife have been married?"
"Don't know for sure, maybe thirty years. Why do you ask?"
"No reason, just thinking. I've never thought about settling down and having kids, it's always seemed out of the question. I just never considered anyone in this business could make a go of a relationship. Johnny Stevens, is divorced and so are most of the others in my section."
"I know what you mean, Robert was married once and that ended ugly."
"It's probably for the best, imagine not knowing if your loved one was going to walk back in the door at night."
"Yeah, I guess you're right," he said quietly.
"I guess," she said uncertainly.
"Maybe not," Mickey murmured.
He turned out the light and she snuggled closer.
"Night, Mickey love."
To be continued...