Title: The Mission
Author: phoenix-cry / applesandcherries
Summary: The treacherous floorboard creaked under his feet and he cringed, freezing on the spot. Barely daring to breathe, he listened for a sign if he had just given his position away or if he was still disguised by the darkness – safe.
Disclaimer: Nope. None of this is mine. Just the laptop it was written on.
A/N: This is a birthday present for my very good friend pealee, whose birthday was yesterday (when you're done reading this, go leave her some love, yes? Because she's awesome!). So, yes, this is a day late, but I still hope you'll like this little ficlet!
The treacherous floorboard creaked under his feet and he cringed, freezing on the spot. Barely daring to breathe, he listened for a sign if he had just given his position away or if he was still disguised by the darkness – safe.
Only silence greeted him and he huffed a relieved breath, before concentrating on where to put his next step. As quickly and carefully as he could, he continued on his way, all the while balancing his precious cargo in his arms.
Reaching the next obstacle, he shouldered the door open as quietly as possible, grinning when he had accomplished the feat without making a sound.
This was just like when he was little and got lost in his own little world, imagining what it would be like to be James Bond, he thought. The adrenaline pulsing through his veins, if he made one false step; the danger of being found out before finishing his mission.
It was awesome.
Glancing around the door frame, he was greeted by darkness. He could barely make out the shapes of the furniture through the gloom, but it was enough for him to find his way through the obstacles.
Sneaking further into the room, he passed the desk and chair, the bookcases and minibar, before halting in front of the next door, which was only partially closed. Through the gap, he could hear the rustling of sheets, before silence descended on the room again. Waiting another minute, to make sure that the occupant was truly asleep, he then squeezed through the narrow opening (thank God he had bothered to loose a few pounds over the last few months, otherwise this would not have looked quite as effortless, he mused to himself) and made his way towards the bed on silent feet. The single occupant in the bed was tangled in coffee brown sheets, her milky white skin shining in a beautiful contrast against the dark satin. He allowed himself a moment to soak in the view – the pale skin, the soft, golden tresses caressing slim but strong shoulders and laying in soft waves along the dark pillow, the rise and fall of her chest, which was barely hidden by the sheet, giving him a tantalizing glimpse of what lay beneath.
He almost regretted what he came here to do. Almost.
Setting his cargo silently on the bedside table, all the while keeping an eye on the sleeping woman in the bed – wouldn't want her to wake up now, not with what he still had to do – he then dug around in his pants pocket, pulling out the small device he still needed, to accomplish his mission.
Giving it a small flick with his thumb, a small flame sprang to life, giving the otherwise dark room an almost ghostly illumination. The woman stirred, but thankfully remained in the clutches of sleep. Transferring the fire to the small candle patiently standing on the table, he waited until the wick had caught the flame and then extinguished the lighter. Glancing at the time on the alarm clock, he saw that it was time.
Carefully leaning over the unsuspecting woman, he lowered his hand to her neck, feeling the warmth of her skin underneath his fingers.
Sweeping her hair out of the way, he closed the distance between them and pressed a soft kiss to her neck, then along her collarbone, and following its path towards her shoulder. She stirred again and he could feel the smile that was starting to stretch across her lips, even if he couldn't see it. Reversing his path and letting his lips trail back the way they had come, he took his time laving the dip between her collarbones with his tongue, relishing in the hum he could feel blossoming in her chest, even before he heard it.
"Not that I'm complaining, but is there a reason you are waking me up in the middle of the night, when we have gone to bed" - he could feel her crane her neck to glance at the alarm clock beside her - "not three hours ago?" She stilled when she registered the object sitting beside the clock, waiting for her attention.
It was his turn to hum against her skin, when he felt her hands tangle in his hair, giving it a slight tug. Not being deterred from his exploration by her impatience, he pulled the sheet further down her body, giving his mouth more room to play. She gasped when he licked along the sensitive underside of her breast, and oh, he would like nothing more than to delve into her and elicit more of these sinful sounds from her, but he still had a mission to complete.
Saying goodbye to her skin for now, by pressing a gentle kiss to the scar between her breasts, he then reluctantly pulled back. Locking his eyes with hers, he saw the question in those emerald depths and smiled at her.
"If I am not mistaken, and you know that rarely happens," his grin widened when he saw the expected eye-roll from her, "tonight many, many, many years ago," she slapped his arm for that and he grinned even wider, "a very special someone entered the world, at exactly 3:24 am, which is," he glanced at the clock – 3:23 – he waited, but didn't have to do so for long, when the clock switched to 3:24 a few seconds later, "now. Happy Birthday, Katherine Beckett."
Leaning back down, he pressed a loving kiss to her smiling lips. "Thank you for giving me the opportunity to share this with you." He mumbled against her lips, before stealing another kiss from her willing lips. "Thank you, for allowing me to be a part of your life for the last six months." Kiss. "Thank you, for letting me love you." Kiss. "And thank you, for loving me back."
This time, she reached for him, twining her fingers in his hair and gripping his shoulder with the other, before sitting up and climbing into his lap. Barely a second later, her warm, wet lips descended over his, pulling a groan from his throat as her tongue danced deliciously around his own.
Breaking apart from him to get some oxygen into her lungs, she pressed her forehead against his and stared into his baby blue eyes. "You adorable, perfect man. Thank you. Thank you for being so patient with me, thank you for waiting. Thank you for being my partner."
The kiss that followed was chaste and loving, and still managed to take his breath away.
"I made you a cake." He mumbled several long minutes later, his breath caressing the shell of her ear, from where he was nuzzling against it.
"You made it yourself?" He tried hard not to take offense at the apprehension lacing her words. Ever since he had made her try his s'morelette, she was suspicious of his cooking. He had no idea why.
"Yep. Don't worry, you'll love this one. It involved a lot of coffee-flavoring."
Her eyes lit up in the glow of the single candle, and the past several hours, which he had slaved over the oven, were all worth it.
Even more so when she decided it would be more fun to eat the cake directly off his body.
He thanked his lucky stars that he had some left-over frosting stored away in the fridge, before her wicked little tongue swirled around his nipple and he lost all coherent thoughts altogether.