TITLE:     ERGO, A TANGLED WEB
AUTHOR:    DONNILEE
E-MAIL:    Donnilee@snet.net
WEBSITE:   http://donnilee.tripod.com
RATING:    NC-17
CATEGORY:  SK/O
SPOILERS:  Avatar, S.R. 819, Herronvolk

SUMMARY:   Skinner enlists the help of one of 
Mulder's contacts to rid himself of nanocytes. 

DISCLAIMER:  All characters used from the show, The 
X-Files are the property of Chris Carter, Ten 
Thirteen Productions, and Fox Broadcasting.  No 
copyright infringement intended.  No money made here.

XXXXXXXXXX
PART 1 (PG-13)
WALTER SKINNER'S APARTMENT
NORMANY APARTMENTS
ALEXANDRIA, VA
JULY 1999

I stared out the window of my second story apartment 
and watched the traffic crawl along the city streets.  
I missed the apartment in Crystal City but that was 
two years behind me.  Leaving Sharon had been very 
hard, but in the long run, I guess it was best.  For 
her anyway, I wasn't so sure about myself.

I'd been thinking lately about how lonely I was.  I'd 
done a stupid-ass thing when I'd gone to bed with 
that woman two years ago.  I don't know what I was 
trying to find.  It could have ended my career.  
Oddly enough, I had to thank Mulder for clearing my 
name by finding that man's face in the air bag and 
proving I wasn't to blame for Sharon's accident.

All that was long in the past now, but for some 
reason, I couldn't let it go.  The recent events with 
the nanotechnology had given me another shock.  I was 
staring my mortality in the face and I didn't like 
it.  I wasn't a spring chicken anymore, but I wasn't 
ready for the rocking chair either. 

I sighed with frustration.  I was on leave, 
supposedly recovering from my 'illness' that wasn't 
an illness.  The phone rang and I gave it a dirty 
look.  I didn't really want to deal with anyone right 
now.  

Giving in, I walked to my desk along the wall and 
snatched up the portable receiver.  "Hello.  
Skinner."

"Sir, it's Mulder."

"What do you want, Mulder?"

"Just seeing how you were doing," he stated calmly.

"I'm fine.  I'll be fine as long as Krycek keeps his 
fingers off the button, so to speak.  This leave is a 
ruse."

"I realize that, sir, but that doesn't mean you are 
okay mentally."

"Are you implying I'm falling apart, Agent Mulder?"

"Not at all, I just wanted to see how you were doing.  
Oh, and there was one other thing."

I chuckled.  "I knew it."

He was silent a moment and then said, "Take down this 
number.  Got a pen?"

I picked one up and fumbled for a wad of sticky 
notes.  "Go ahead."

"202-555-0498."

"Whose number is that?"

"Someone that might be able to help you."

I tensed and then asked carefully, "A friend?"

"I wouldn't go that far.  I wouldn't even necessarily 
trust them, but they might be able to help you.  It's 
up to you whether you make contact or not."

"Who is it, Mulder?"

"I'd rather not say, sir.  I'm not sure that your 
home phones are secure."

'God, the man was paranoid,' I thought.  "Okay.  I 
hear you.  Anything else you want to tell me?"

"Nope, that was it."

"Well, thank you.  I think," I added after a pause.

"Have a good day, sir."  He hung up.

I stared at the receiver for a moment before putting 
it back on the cradle.  I went into the kitchen and 
fixed myself some soup from a can, heating it in a 
saucepan on the stove.  

I shouldn't call.  It wasn't a friend, he'd said.  
That meant it wasn't a sure thing; it wasn't 
reliable.  Yet, I couldn't stop thinking about it as 
I ate my soup.  The number was sitting out there on 
my desk and seemed to be calling for me.  Damn it, I 
should count my blessings and be happy I got out of 
this alive.  After a moment, I thought, 'this time.'

What about next time?  At any moment Krycek could end 
my life with the twist of a knob.  It wasn't fair.  
How long was I going to be able to live like this?  I 
had an odd sense of foreboding.  They could make me 
into their puppet.  It was what I'd accused Krycek of 
being, what I'd accused CGB, himself, of being.  They 
could make me into the thing I hated the most, a liar 
and a deceiver.

I sighed and dropped my spoon into the empty bowl, 
listening to it clank loudly.  "Shit," I muttered to 
myself.

I got up, throwing my bowl and spoon into the sink.  
I retrieved the number and the phone, sitting down on 
my couch.  I stared at it for a long time.  Then I 
finally dialed the number and listened to it ring 
three times.  

The line engaged and I heard a smooth female voice 
say, "Secretary General's office."

"Hello, I was given your number by a mutual 
acquaintance," I said.  I knew she would have caller 
I.D. and be able to see my name on her phone.

"I see.  What can I do for you?"

"Can we meet somewhere?"

There was a long pause and then she said, "Do you 
know where the Old Ebbitt Grill is?"

"675 15th Street, NW," I said.  High-level politicos 
hung out there.  "You sure you want to meet that 
close to home?"

"I can get us a private spot there."

"What time?"

"5:30 PM tonight."

"How will I know you?"

"Ask for a reservation for Maxwell."

"I'll be there."

"See you then," she replied and hung up.

Mulder's contact was in the U.N.  I'd just spoken to 
a Special Representative of the Secretary General.  
It didn't get much higher than that, other than the 
President.  The voice suddenly registered in my mind.  
I'd heard it before.

An image popped into my head; long legs, haughty 
attitude, full lips, and silky blonde hair.  "Jesus," 
I said out loud.  "Marita Covarrubias," I announced 
to the empty room.

Well, this could be good and bad.  I had no idea 
whose side she was on.  Mulder had told me that she 
had helped him several times after X had been 
eliminated, including leading him to the farm of 
Samantha clones in Canada.

XXXXXXXXXX
OLD EBBITT'S GRILL
675 15TH STREET, NW
WASHINGTON, D.C.
5:30 PM

I arrived precisely on time and entered the lobby of 
the chic restaurant.  I'd dressed in a double-
breasted navy suit with barely-there pinstripes and a 
crisp light gray shirt and a charcoal tie.  The host 
looked up and waited.  

"Maxell party," I said blandly.

His expression didn't change.  "Of course, sir.  
Right this way."

I followed him through a dining room full of tables 
with only a few filled at this time of evening.  We 
went through a doorway into a smaller room that 
contained booths with privacy screens.  

After walking by three of them, he turned and we 
rounded a screen.  There she was, dressed in a crisp, 
cream-colored business suit with a yellow blouse.  
Her makeup and hair were perfect, as I remembered 
her.  "Would you like to place a drink order?" the 
man asked.

Marita looked at him.  "Bring us a bottle of Cabernet 
Sauvignon, Barry."

"Very well, Madam."  He scooted out quietly.  

I folded myself into the booth and looked at her.  
"Trying to get me drunk and take advantage of me?" I 
joked.

Her lips curled into a smile, but her mouth did not 
open.  After a pause, she said, "You don't strike me 
as the type of man that loses control very often."

I sobered immediately and said, "No, I'm not, hence 
my not being fond of having a guillotine hanging over 
my neck."

She nodded slightly.  "No, I don't imagine you do."

"Mul," he began, but cut himself off when her eyes 
snapped up to his.  "Uh, our friend said you might be 
able to help me."

"I might."

"Can you tell me how?" I asked carefully.

At that moment, Barry tapped on the screen and 
rounded it, placing a bucket with an opened, chilled 
bottle of red wine next to the table and placing two 
glasses on the table with cocktail napkins under 
them.  "Will you be dining with us, Madam?"

"Yes, Barry."  She looked at me.  "The beef 
Wellington here is out of this world."

I nodded in acknowledgement.

"Two beef Wellington's, Barry.  Mine medium rare."

"Well done," I said in response to his turning to me.
He nodded and left.  "How much is this going to cost 
me?" I asked.

"The help or the food, Mr. Skinner?" she asked with 
amusement.

"Well, let's cover the food first," I replied, 
playing along.

"The food will cost you nothing.  It will go on my 
expense account."

"Must be nice," I muttered.

She smiled, this time showing teeth and said, "Yes, 
it comes in handy."

"You have expensive tastes," I commented, as I lifted 
the wine bottle carefully, using the cloth napkin 
provided to catch the sweat on the bottle.  I poured 
us both full glasses and replaced it in the bucket.

"I've developed them since moving to Washington.  
Before that, my tastes were fairly simple."

I raised an eyebrow, not quite believing her, but 
unwilling to argue.  "Osmosis from the rich and 
famous?" I asked ironically.

She chuckled and the sound was low and sexy.  I felt 
my groin tighten and pressed my legs together to stop 
the reaction.  'Shit, what was that all about?' I 
wondered.  She was a beautiful woman, but it wasn't 
like I didn't run into beautiful women every day.  
Here I was about to beg for help and my body was 
reacting out of turn.

"Something like that," she commented.  We made idle 
small talk about current events until our meals 
arrived.  After they were on the table, she said, 
"Barry, we don't wish to be disturbed."

"Of course, Madam.  I'll see to it."  He turned on 
his heel and left.

"First name basis," I commented idly.

"I dine here a lot."

"I gathered," I said, just for something to say.  We 
ate in silence for a few minutes, sipping wine.  I 
blotted my lips on the cloth napkin I'd put in my lap 
and then said, "May we talk some business?"

She looked at me and continued chewing slowly.  Once 
she'd swallowed, she said, "It will take me some 
time, but I think I can help you."

"What would it involve?"

"There is more than one control," she said quietly.

"Ah, and you think you can get your hands on one of 
them?  How many are there?"

"Only two.  However, I know who possesses the other 
one.  I just have to think of a good reason to 
request it."

"Tweaking the software?" I suggested.

Her eyebrows rose.  "That might work."

"Even if you did acquire this device, it wouldn't 
eliminate the other one that's out there.  I'm not 
sure I understand how this would help me."  I hated 
all this cloak and dagger bullshit.  I much preferred 
to be straight-forward and talk plain.

"Because I know how it works and if I could obtain 
this control, then I could manipulate the organic 
machines that it controls."

I was silent a moment, taking that in.  "Meaning 
what?"

"I could rob them of their life," she said, not 
wanting to say the word 'kill'.

"Ah, and what happens then?  Do I get sick?"

"No, once unable to function, they would no longer be 
able to stay in the blood stream."

"I would be rid of them."

"Yes, most likely through your urination and waste," 
she said, pausing before the final word.

"Ah, I see.  That would be worth a lot to me, 
Marita," I said softly.

She looked startled at the use of her first name but 
then looked down again.  We ate for several more 
minutes in silence.  "What are you telling me?" she 
said.

"That I would pay a lot to have that happen," I said 
slowly.

"Pay?  As in money?" she asked.

I sighed loudly.  "Money or favors," I said, cringing 
a bit when I said it.  I didn't like to be beholden 
to anyone and this could put me in that position.  
However, somehow I figured owing Marita or the 
Secretary General would be less painful than being a 
puppet of the Consortium.  The favors they might want 
would be political.  I doubted they sanctioned or 
engaged in violence.  Then again, I didn't know much 
about what the Secretary General did.

"You're not going to ask me what those favors might 
be or what this might cost?"

"You wouldn't tell me if I did," I said with 
conviction.

She smiled in response to that.  "Cynical," she 
replied.

"Glad I amuse you," I said, with a touch of sarcasm.

Her smile fled and she stared at me.  "What do you 
know about me?"

I stared at her for a few moments, not sure why she 
was asking.  "Not much," I admitted.  "Our friend has 
told me a few things, incidents where you were able 
to help him.  He's grateful for that," I added.  "I 
mean, I know on paper, what the Secretary's job is, 
but the nuts and bolts I don't know much about."

She nodded.  "Kofi Annan is from Ghana and is the 
seventh Secretary General of the United Nations.  
It's his job to oversee the maintenance of 
international peace and security.  He's big on 
advocating human rights and the rule of law.  He 
strives for universal values of equality."

"Tall order," I said.  "Nice canned speech too.  
Where'd you get it, the tourist brochure of your 
mission statement?" I asked.

Her face hardened.  "Mr. Skinner, I don't think I 
deserve your sarcasm."

"No?  Well, I don't think I deserve a song and dance 
from you.  My life is on the line here.  I need to 
know whether you are going to help me or not.  If 
not, I will hunt down and kill whoever possesses 
these controllers and I will destroy them.  It will 
become my life's mission to exclusion of everything 
else.  Now, I imagine that would require stepping on 
some powerful toes.  I'm willing to do that.  I'm 
very good at it, as a matter of fact."

"Good at killing too?" she asked, clearly hoping to 
throw me off balance.

I stared right into her eyes.  "Yes, I'm good at that 
too.  Would you like a list?"

She knew what I was saying.  A list of the people I'd 
killed.  Of course, it would be sketchy.  I'd lost 
count of the number of people I'd killed in Viet Nam.  
Nevertheless, I could still name every target that 
I'd been officially sent after.  I'd been a member of 
the exclusive SEAL Team 6 that had covertly carried 
out numerous assassinations during the war.  The 
missions were so covert there were no records of 
them.  If anyone looked, it showed a complete 
military history with the Marines.

"No, that won't be necessary.  Are you threatening 
me?"

"No, I'm telling you what I'll do if I don't find an 
answer with you."

She cleared her throat.  "I see.  Well, let me see 
what I can do and I'll get back to you."

"Do you need my cell number?" I asked.

"No, I have your number, Mr. Skinner," she said.  It 
sounded ominous and I didn't miss the double 
entendre.

"Look, I didn't mean to get ugly.  I'm not 
threatening you.  I don't want you doing this under 
duress."  I met her gaze and said, "I'm scared, 
Marita.  I can't live like this.  I'd rather be 
dead."

She nodded.  "You wouldn't be much use to them that 
way, would you?"

"No, but it's an option if I can't find relief 
otherwise."

"You would kill yourself rather than be at their 
mercy?" she asked, her voice rising with disbelief.

I stared at her again and nodded once.  "I've already 
betrayed people I care about more than I care to 
admit.  I'm not doing it anymore, not for anyone."

"Not even to save your own life?" she asked softly.

"Not even to save my own life," I said.  I stood up 
and held out my hand.  

She slid out of the booth and stood in front of me.  
I'm six feet, two inches tall and she was nearly six 
feet in the three-inch heels she was wearing.  She 
clasped my hand in a firm grip and I felt my flesh 
warm and a tingle run up my arm.  I forcibly clamped 
down on the gasp that wanted to escape my throat.  
"You're a noble man, Mr. Skinner," she said, still 
holding onto my hand.  "I don't know if I could be so 
noble.  In fact, I know I'm not that noble."

I nodded.  She was telling me that her life was on 
the line too, or had been in the past, and she had 
chosen to go along to get along.  I didn't know how 
compromised she was, but I didn't really care.  I 
needed her help and if she could give it to me, I 
would take it.

"Thank you for meeting with me," I said, and dropped 
her hand finally.

She glanced at her hand and then laced her fingers 
together in front of her skirt.  "You're welcome.  
I'll be in touch."

"Thanks for dinner," I said.

"You're welcome."

I didn't bother saying good-bye.  I turned and left, 
feeling oddly anxious to be leaving her behind in the 
restaurant.  She could take care of herself.  She 
hadn't gotten this far without having a black belt in 
politics.

Then again, Deep Throat, X, and others had thought 
they knew the score as well.  'Where were they now?' 
I asked myself rhetorically.  They were dead.

I lowered my head and walked briskly for two blocks, 
reaching the parking garage and sliding into my car.  
I headed back home, my head filled with thoughts of 
things that could go wrong.  If Krycek or the 
Consortium knew I'd met with Marita or that she could 
help me, it could get her killed.  Of that, I had no 
doubt.  I was a little surprised that I hadn't even 
considered that before meeting with her.  Of course, 
I hadn't been sure it was she at first.  Even so, it 
wasn't like me not to consider the consequences of my 
actions.  I was desperate, more desperate than I 
wanted to admit, even to myself.  

I was afraid I wasn't nearly as noble as Ms. 
Covarrubias seemed to think I was.


XXXXXXXXXX
PART 2 (NC-17)
MARITA COVARRUBIAS' APARTMENT
ALBAN TOWERS
3700 MASSACHUSETTS AVENUE, NW
GEORGETOWN, D.C.

A week had gone by with no news.  I was getting antsy 
and looked Marita up in the phone book.  Of course, 
she wasn't listed and I could find no record of her 
anywhere in the normal public channels.  

Damn woman had been turning up in my dreams all week 
long.  Every night, I'd had a dream with her in it 
and they had become progressively more erotic as the 
week wore on.  At first, it had just been kissing her 
and little petting.  The last two nights had been 
full-blown erotica; dreaming of burying myself inside 
her slender, tight body.  I'd woken up with a raging 
hard-on and had to jerk off before I could even get 
out of bed.

This disturbed me.  I didn't know the woman that 
well, and I certainly wasn't stupid enough to blindly 
trust her.  There was something about this woman that 
had obviously captured my imagination or she wouldn't 
be turning up in my dreams on a nightly basis.  

It had been a long time since a woman had fascinated 
me to the point where I thought about her when she 
wasn't standing in front of me.  The fact that it was 
Marita really concerned me.  I needed to be careful 
with this woman.  She was a serious player and nobody 
to mess around with.  I knew all this and yet, I 
couldn't stop thinking about her.

I'd called Mulder up to my office.  "Where does our 
friend live?"

He was hesitant but finally said, "She lives in those 
luxury apartments at Alban Towers, near the National 
Cathedral."

"Which one?"

Again he hesitated.  I wondered if he was worried 
about blowing his tenuous relationship with a 
potentially valuable source of information.  Then he 
said, "504."

"Thank you, that's all, Agent Mulder."

He stood and walked to the door, stopping and turning 
to before exiting.  "Is she going to help you?"

"That's what I'm trying to find out," I told him.

He nodded.  I wondered if my office was bugged but 
her name had not been mentioned.  However, her 
address had.  Then again, if she was in danger, she 
was already in their radar and nothing I did now was 
going to make it worse.  I grabbed my suit jacket off 
the back of my chair and left the office.

Now I stood outside her door.  The elegant script of 
504 graced the door in gold colored metal.  I knocked 
firmly three times in rapid succession and waited.  
Nothing happened for several moments and then I heard 
footsteps.  I forced myself to stop shifting my 
weight from foot to foot and stood still.

The door slid open and I knew she'd seen me through 
her peephole.  She waved me in without saying 
anything.  I stepped in and looked around as she 
closed the door and locked it.  "Nice digs," I 
commented.

"What are you doing here?" she asked without 
preliminaries.

"One guess," I said, turning to face her.

"I haven't gotten it yet."

"Who has it?" I asked.

She shook her head.  "I can't tell you that."

"It's been a week," I informed her, as if she didn't 
know.

"These things take time."

"I could be dead tomorrow," I reminded her.

"I doubt it.  They won't play their hand so soon."

"And how do you know what they will and won't do?" I 
asked suspiciously.

"Oh, don't give me that look, Mr. Skinner.  I know 
because I've come to know how they operate.  They are 
a nasty bunch of folks, but they are not stupid and 
they are not hasty.  It's too soon to come after you.  
They won't risk exposure.  That technology is very 
sensitive.  They never planned on you making it to a 
hospital.  I think that scared them.  They didn't 
want doctors in the hospital getting a hold of the 
technology from your blood.  If Agent Scully hadn't 
intervened, things might have gone much differently 
for you."

"Meaning I would be dead."

"It's possible, or hospital staff would have been.  
They would have stopped at nothing to retrieve your 
blood samples."

"Maybe I should have my blood drawn and go to the 
press," I suggested casually.

She shook her head.  "I wouldn't do that if I were 
you.  That would be signing your death warrant."

"How much does the Secretary know about the aliens?"

She was silent for so long I didn't think she was 
going to answer.  Finally, she gestured toward her 
overstuffed couch and I took a seat.  She sat on the 
other end, one arm draped over the backrest.  She was 
wearing jeans and a button down oxford shirt that 
wasn't tucked in.  It gave her a completely different 
look.  She seemed more vulnerable out of the power 
suit.

I studied her as she did me.  She wasn't wearing any 
makeup although her hair was in place.  It hit me 
again what a beautiful woman she was.  "The Secretary 
knows only what he has to know.  He delegates a lot."

"To the Consortium?" I asked.

She shook her head.  "No.  He knows they exist but 
does not agree with what they are trying to do."

"And what are they trying to do?"

"They want to develop a vaccine to the virus."

"You believe that?"

"Oh yes, it's their methods that are abhorrent."

"Those include what?"

"Using human subjects for their experiments.  It's 
caused a lot of unnecessary death.  Although if you 
asked them, they would say it wasn't unnecessary.  
The needs of many outweigh the needs of the few, and 
all that."

I moved closer to her and she seemed to sink into the 
cushions.  I was secretly enjoying the fact that my 
physical closeness seemed to unnerve her a bit.  
"What do you believe, Ms. Covarrubias?" I asked 
softly.

She swallowed hard and I watched her throat muscles 
move.  She licked her lips in an unconscious gesture 
of nervousness and I felt my dick jump.  Christ, what 
was it with this woman that affected me so?  "I don't 
agree with what they are doing either."

"What do you think we or they should do about the 
aliens?"

She met my eyes finally and said, "I think we should 
just find a way to kill them."

I smiled and she tried to smile back, but it didn't 
reach her eyes.  "Are you sure?" I asked.

"I'm not sure of anything, Mr. Skinner.  
Unfortunately, it's not up to me to decide anyway."

"Who is it 'up to'?" I asked.

She shook her head.  "You're pushing too hard."

"I want help or answers so I can make my own help."

"I know, and you're going to get yourself killed if 
you don't stop it."

"Would that bother you, Marita?" I asked, purposely 
using her first name as I'd noticed it seemed to 
throw her off.  I leaned closer and she stood up 
abruptly, making me smile.

She crossed the carpet to the other side of the room 
before stopping and said, "Yes, that would bother me, 
Mr. Skinner."

"Call me Walter," I requested, standing up and making 
my way across to the room to stand behind her.  She 
stiffened when my hands landed on her shoulders and I 
marveled at how delicate she seemed.  "Why would that 
bother you?"

"Because I don't like to see anyone's life ended 
unnecessarily," she said.  I could tell it was a rote 
response.

My thumbs played gently with the tight muscles at the 
base of her neck and she shuddered under my touch.  
"You're a beautiful woman, Marita."

She yanked away from my hands and spun around to face 
me.  "Don't even try it," she ground out.

"What?" I asked.

She laughed and it was an ironic sound.  "Seducing me 
isn't going to get me to help you any faster."

I raised my eyebrows and smirked.  "I wasn't aware I 
was seducing you," I said calmly.  I was secretly 
thrilled to know I'd affected her or she wouldn't 
have suspected such a thing.

"Damn you!" she hissed.  "Don't play games with me."

"I'm not playing games, Marita.  I don't know what 
I'm doing," I added.  I turned and headed for the 
door.

"What are you going to do?" she called after me.

"Find your boyfriend, Krycek," I said.

She winced and I felt my own eyes widen.  It had been 
a turn of phrase.  I hadn't meant it literally, but 
the look on her face told me that I'd hit a nerve.  

I stopped and pinned her with a glare.  "Is that who 
you're getting it from?  Rather than this mysterious 
'other' person you won't name?"

She shook her head.  "No."

I approached her slowly and she backed away from me.  
That pleased me somehow.  When her back hit the 
sliding glass door of her balcony, I moved in and 
grasped her wrists, pinning her arms to the glass 
next to her head.  She gasped and I leaned in close.  
"You better not be lying to me, Marita," I growled.

I could feel the heat rolling off her.  I could see a 
touch of fear in her eyes and it excited me.  
Intellectually, I knew that this was inappropriate 
but my body seemed to have taken over the show.  I 
felt the pulsing in my groin, and pressed my chest 
into her body, pinning her to the glass.  I knew the 
lights were on in the living room and would backlight 
us for anyone who might look into the balcony doors.  
That idea excited me even more and I felt my cock 
grow to full erection.

I ground it slowly into her stomach, wondering what 
the hell had come over me.  I didn't act this way 
with women.  Then again, this was exactly how I'd 
acted in my dreams.  Maybe I had some latent sexual 
fantasies about dominating women that were coming out 
in my dreams.  That was another disturbing thought.  
They seemed to come fast and furious where this woman 
was concerned.  I had always been respectful of 
women.  What was it about HER that made me angry and 
aroused at the same time?  Perhaps because I wanted 
her, but knew she was trouble.  My body wanted her 
and my mind didn't.  'God, I hate it when that 
happens,' I thought.

She sucked in a deep breath and pushed at me feebly.  
My knees slid between her legs and pressed to the 
glass, widening her stance and leaving her totally at 
my mercy.  "Mr. Skinner, what do you think you're 
doing?" she asked, her voice slightly frantic.

"Walter, remember?" I reminded her.

"Okay, Walter, then.  What the hell are you doing?  
Let me go!"

"I don't think so.  Not until you answer my 
question."

"I did!"

"Not honestly.  You flinched when I said Krycek's 
name."

"He's got the other controller.  I hate the little 
prick."

"You sure?  Or is he your lover?"

"Fuck you!"

"No denial," I said calmly, as if that made my case.  
Maybe it did.

"No, he's not my boyfriend, not my lover, not my 
anything.  Even if he was, it would be none of your 
damn business!" she shouted.

Her color was high and she was panting against me, 
causing her breasts to press into my chest.  I leaned 
close and watched her eyes dilate.  She was aroused.  
That made it even worse.  I asked myself again, what 
the hell I thought I was doing.  

When my lips were next to hers I hissed, "If I find 
out your pals with Krycek, we will have more than 
words.  Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes," she spat out at me.  "Now let me go."

I pushed away from her, releasing her wrists.  She 
nearly fell away from the door and that gave me some 
satisfaction.  I did nothing to hide the erection 
tenting my jeans.  In fact, I made a show of shaking 
out my pant leg to give myself more room.  

"You get off on roughing up women, Walter?" she 
asked, her feistiness in tact, now that she was no 
longer pinned to the door.

I walked to the front door and opened it.  I turned 
to look at her and said, "No, just you, Marita."  I 
turned on my heel and left, closing the door softly 
behind me.

I hurried to my car, feeling my erection deflate and 
being grateful.  Jesus, I could have blown it in 
there.  I had to remember that this woman was trying 
to help me, or I thought she was.  The reality was 
that I really had no way of knowing.  She could rat 
me out just as easily.  If the Consortium knew I was 
looking for the controllers, Krycek, or planning on 
getting out from underneath them, they would come 
gunning for me. 

I wouldn't be hard for her to eliminate me as a 
nuisance.  I had to step lightly, or at least 
lighter, around her in the future.  Maybe I would 
call tomorrow and apologize but not now.  I was still 
too revved up.

XXXXXXXXXXX
WALTER SKINNER'S APARTMENT
NORMANY APARTMENTS
ALEXANDRIA, VA

I made it home in record time and practically threw 
my clothes as I undressed and hopped in the shower.  
The memory of pressing against her came back and I 
groaned, feeling my sex harden.

XXXXXXXXXX NC-17 PORTION XXXXXXXXXX

I grasped myself firmly and began to stroke, closing 
my eyes.  I inhaled, remembering the subtle scent of 
her perfume.  She'd smelled like some kind of fruit, 
light and fresh.  I relived the feel of her breasts 
squished against my chest and I felt my shaft surge.  
I moaned and pumped harder, not wanting to draw it 
out.  I just needed relief.  

I growled as I finally felt my balls clench.  Sperm 
rocketed up my shaft and I bucked my hips into my 
hand as I spilled my seed down the drain.  I stood, 
panting for a minute, letting the hot water soothe my 
aching muscles.  

XXXXXXXXXX END NC-17 PORTION XXXXXXXXXXX

How long had it been?  I tried to remember.  I hadn't 
been with anyone since that hooker and my divorce.  
Shit.  Two years.  I needed it bad.

XXXXXXXXXX
HOOVER BUILDING
A.D. SKINNER'S OFFICE
WASHINGTON, D.C.
TWO DAYS LATER

I hadn't dared to call her.  Every time I thought 
about my behavior, I got a little sick.  It had to be 
the stress, I told myself.  I would never be such a 
bastard under normal circumstances.  I just wanted 
this whole thing over with and it wasn't happening 
fast enough to suit me.  I had to be patient and that 
was not my strong suit.

When my phone rang, I looked at the phone on my desk 
and then realized it was the cell phone in my suit 
jacket.  I pulled it out and glanced at the caller 
I.D. 

My heart did a little flip-flop in my chest and I 
admonished myself to calm the fuck down.  I took a 
deep breath and flipped it open.  "Skinner," I barked 
into the phone.

"It's me," she said, her low alto floating into my 
ear.  She didn't have to say her name.  

I felt my dick twitch just from the sound of her 
voice, those two, little words.  Shit.  "What's up?" 
I asked, trying to sound casual.

"What time do you get home?"

I cleared my throat.  "Usually around 6:00 or 7:00, 
but I can leave anytime if I have to," I amended.

"Can you be home by 6:00 PM?"

"Yes."

"Do you like pepperoni on your pizza?"

"Excuse me?"

"Pepperoni, that spicy meat, I'm sure you've heard of 
it," she said facetiously.  "Do you like it on 
pizza?"

"Uh, yeah, that's fine."

"See you at six," she said and hung up in my ear.

I stared at the phone, wondering what the hell was 
going on.  I couldn't believe that she'd found the 
controller and acquired it so quickly, but I was 
hoping she had.  On the other hand, what was the 
pizza all about?  She obviously didn't intend to stay 
for a few minutes and split.  I wondered what she had 
up her sleeve.

The last couple hours of the day seemed to pass 
slowly.  By the time I left at 5:00 PM, I was 
actually looking forward to seeing her.  'Whoa boy, 
don't get excited,' I scolded myself.  'This is not a 
lady you want to mess around with.'

The problem was that my body was not listening to my 
head.  If the truth were known, my body really, 
really did want mess with Marita.

XXXXXXXXXX
WALTER SKINNER'S APARTMENT
NORMANY APARTMENTS
ALEXANDRIA, VA

I set the dinette table with plates, napkins and 
silver ware, and two glasses.  I'd picked up an 
expensive bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon on the way 
home.  I knew she liked that since she'd ordered it 
at Ebbitt's.  I read the blurb that came with the 
bottle.

'Cabernet Sauvignon is a medium to full-bodied, 
densely colored wine, rich in berry flavor with a 
distinct herbaceousness.  A true Cabernet Sauvignon 
is unblended, austerely tannic, and charactered by 
the flavor of tea or herbs, leaves and stems.'  

Sounded like a bunch of pretentious bullshit to me.  
I popped the cork and let it breath, as they say.  
I'd had to dig deep into the back of the cupboards to 
find some wine glasses.  I'd been relieved when I 
found them, not wanting to serve wine in Dixie cups.  
That would tarnish my image.

Of course, I wasn't sure what image I was trying to 
uphold, and why it mattered to me what Marita 
Covarrubias thought.  Those were questions to be 
pondered another time.

Her knock came at exactly 6:00 PM.  I checked the 
peephole and then slid the chain off, letting her in.  
She entered, balancing a large pizza in one hand.  In 
her other hand was a briefcase.  "Give the lady an A+ 
for being prompt," I said, by way of greeting.

I took the pizza from her and motioned for her to 
follow me.  "Leave your briefcase on the coffee 
table."

She did and followed me into the kitchen.  I set a 
trivet on the table and set the box on top, ripping 
off the top.  I grabbed a spatula and served her two 
pieces.  I took three, and settled into the chair 
opposite her.  I picked up the bottle and poured her 
a glass, handing it over.

She grinned when she saw what kind it was.  "Trying 
to impress me?"

I shrugged.  "It was the only kind I knew you liked.  
And it goes with pizza."

"Indeed.  I'm sure it cost more than the pizza."

"I'm sure it did too," I said, chuckling.

She smiled and took a sip.  "Mmm," she hummed.  "It's 
a very good year.

I tried not to focus on her lips.  'Remember where 
her eyes are, Walter,' I said to myself.  Again, we 
ate in silence for a few moments.  I grabbed fourth 
piece and she gathered a third.  I was glad to see 
she wasn't one of those women that ate like a bird, 
or only munched on salads.  I suspected she wasn't 
since I'd watched her devour that beef Wellington 
when we'd had dinner.

I poured a second glass of wine for both of us and 
said, "So, are you going to tell me why you're buying 
me dinner again?"

She set her glass down and wiped her mouth.  "I have 
the controller," she said simply.

I sat forward and put my arms on the table on either 
side of my plate.  "You do?" I asked, my heart rate 
speeding up.

Then she gave me a brilliant smile.  "I do.  Seems 
we're going to foil some plans tonight, Walter."

I grinned at her.  "Marita," I began.

She tilted her head to one side, waiting, but said 
nothing.

"Thank you.  I need to apologize for the way I acted 
the other night.  I haven't thought about much else 
since."  I paused and she didn't respond so I said, 
"I don't act that way around women.  I don't know 
what got into me.  I don't really have an excuse, 
except that I was frightened and angry.  I shouldn't 
have taken it out on you though.  Here you are trying 
to help me and I was treating you like the enemy."

"Apology accepted," she said softly.

"You're not angry?"

"I was that night but probably not for the reason you 
think."

I raised an eyebrow in inquiry.

She looked down and then picked up her pizza, taking 
another healthy bite and chewing slowly.  I 
recognized it for the delaying tactic it was and let 
it go, eating more of what was on my own plate.  I 
waited patiently, hoping I could wait her out.

After a few minutes, she said, "I wasn't really 
surprised that you would be angry.  I know what it is 
to be impatient for things to happen."

"You're being generous," I said, gratitude in my 
voice.

She smiled sadly.  "Maybe, but I've had my life in 
danger a time or two.  I know it's no fun, so I 
didn't really blame you for being upset, or seeking 
me out.  Knowing your background, I wasn't surprised 
that you found out where I lived so easily.  I was 
surprised, actually, that you hadn't done it before."

"So what made you angry?"

"Myself, mostly."

"Why?"

She took a deep breath, sighing as she let it out.  
"Because I'm a coward."

Now I was totally confused.  "I don't understand," I 
admitted.



XXXXXXXXXX
PART 3 (PG-13)
WALTER SKINNER'S APARTMENT
NORMANY APARTMENTS
ALEXANDRIA, VA

She looked away from me and back to my face.  "I was 
angry at myself for the way I reacted to you."

"I'd just threatened you, man-handled you, and 
growled in your face.  You had every right to yell 
back at me," I said.  I'd purposely omitted the fact 
that I'd ground my cock into her stomach.

"That's not what I mean."  She paused.  "I reacted to 
you, Walter, against my better judgment and THAT 
pissed me off.  I don't like losing control."

I stood up and took two steps to put myself next to 
her.  She stood up, pushing her chair back.  "How did 
you react?" I asked softly, feeling my body start to 
respond to her again.

"I don't even know why I'm telling you this."

I reached down for her hands and laced my fingers 
through hers.  She stared at them and then I gently 
backed her up again until she was against my kitchen 
wall.  She gasped this time as I raised her arms, 
pinning them next to her head, my fingers still laced 
with hers.  Slowly, I stepped into her, pressing my 
body against hers.  This time there was no anger, no 
urgency.  

There was only arousal, and I felt it surge through 
me as she began to pant softly and her cheeks grew 
pink.  "Maybe because you wanted to feel that way 
again," I finally answered her comment.

She started to shake her head but then stopped. 

I continued, "Because I did.  I do.  I don't know 
why, but you really turn me on," I whispered.

She whimpered and I felt my erection stand up and do 
the wave.  "Walter, we shouldn't do this.  We have 
business to attend to."

"We'll get to it," I promised her.  "Were you 
aroused, Marita?" I asked her bluntly.  "Are you 
aroused now?"

She pressed her lips together, holding back and then 
blurted out through clenched teeth, "Yes, damn you."

"Oh shit," I muttered, knowing I was going to kiss 
her and it was probably a really, really bad idea.  

I did it anyway.

Her mouth was soft, dry, warm, and parted like a wave 
for my tongue.  I took my time, tasting her, 
exploring the far reaches of her mouth.  

She moaned into my mouth and I deepened the kiss, 
then pulled back to suckle gently on her full bottom 
lip.  She whimpered again, a sound that seemed to 
shoot straight to my groin.  

"You taste so sweet," I whispered.  I let go of her 
hands and they wrapped around my neck, pulling me to 
her again.  We kissed again, slower this time, but 
with no less urgency.  Our teeth clashed a few times 
and we ignored it, adjusted and kept kissing.

Finally, I pulled away, not wanting to be a run-away 
train my first time out of station.  "God, get a 
grip," I whispered.

She chuckled.  "You talking to me or to yourself?" 
she asked, clearly amused.

I smiled at her, my hands flexing on her waist.  
"Myself," I said, alarmed at how husky my voice had 
become.

"Want to take care of business?"

I grinned lewdly and waggled my eyebrows.  She 
surprised me when she threw her head back and 
laughed.  I smiled at her, liking the sound of her 
laughter.  When she got her mirth under control she 
said, "I meant the serious business."

"I guess we should get that out of the way first, 
huh?"

"It might be a good idea."

"Can I extract a promise from you that you won't 
leave immediately, once we finish this?"

She hesitated but then said, "I'll stay for a bit."

"Good."

"I'm not making any promises, Walter," she warned me.

I nodded.  "I understand."

I backed away from her and she followed me into the 
living room.  I sat on one end of the couch and she 
on the other.  She opened her briefcase and extracted 
a silver box about the size of a five by seven photo 
frame.  It was about two inches thick and I could see 
a miniature keypad near the bottom, topped by several 
knobs and a small screen at the top. 

"I have no idea if this will hurt," she said.

I nodded, bracing myself.  "I'll be all right."

"What if you need a hospital?"

"Then call 911 for me, would you?"

She smiled and reached out, pressing a button I 
hadn't seen on the side and the screen lit up.  She 
waited and then set it down on her knees, hitting a 
few keys on the keypad.  "I read the instructions 
before I came here.  I didn't dare take them out of 
the lab."

I nodded.  I would ask more questions later.  At this 
point, I didn't want to do anything that might screw 
this up.  "What are you doing?" I asked, unable to 
keep the curiosity out of my voice. 

"I'm pulling up the program that runs the nanocytes.  
It allows me to give them instructions.  She turned 
and faced me and I saw an infrared beam pointed at my 
chest that was emanating from the top of the unit.  I 
hadn't seen that before either.

"It's a laser," she explained, before I could ask.  
"It's going to pick up on the frequency of the 
particular organisms you have in your body right now.  
I'm letting it identify them.  Then I can tell them 
to shut down."

"Just like that?"

"Well, it goes in three stages, and I needed to get 
the codes, but yeah.  It's like telling them to self-
destruct.  You see, the fact that they keep moving is 
what keeps them in your blood stream.  Once they 
don't move, they will simply become junk in your 
system and your body should try to expel them as 
waste."

"Should," I said, emphasizing the one word of 
ambiguity in that speech.

She looked at me while the little box hummed quietly.  
"Yes," she said.  

Well, at least she wasn't bullshitting me.  I waited, 
feeling myself grow more nervous.  Sweat broke out on 
my upper lip and I wiped it on my sleeve.

She smiled at me.  "Relax.  Oh, there we go.  Okay.  
Now sit still for me."

I gripped the back of the couch on one side and a 
cushion on the other to anchor myself in place.  I 
took a deep breath and concentrated on not moving.

She began punching keys.  Then she would turn one of 
the knobs, watching the screen as it indicated some 
process taking place.  Then she punched some more 
keys and went to the second knob.  The process was 
repeated three times. 

At the last cycle, I began to feel tingling up and 
down my arms.  My skin on my back and chest began to 
itch and I noticed my breathing had become labored 
without my realizing it.  I'd been so focused on her 
face.  

Now I realized sweat was poring down my neck and from 
under my arms, soaking my shirt.  I felt sick to my 
stomach and felt my bowels rumble as well.  "Jesus," 
I choked.

She looked up.  "That should be it.  Now you just 
have to wait."

"I think I'm going to be sick," I announced.  I 
lurched off the couch and staggered to the bathroom, 
embarrassed at my lack of composure.

I lost most of the pizza in the toilet bowl.  I 
stripped off my shirt and dried my torso with it.  
Then I found a washcloth and ran it under cold water.  
I began wiping off my head and face and neck, trying 
to cool down.  I was in a flop sweat.

Marita appeared in the door.  "Can I get you 
something?"

"No, I think I'm gonna take a cool shower though, 
okay?"

"Okay.  Leave the door cracked so I can hear if you 
call for help."

I nodded, not even thinking of anything sexual at 
that moment.  If I didn't start feeling better than 
this, nothing was going to happen tonight.  I wasn't 
sure if I was relieved or disappointed.  Everything 
inside me was at war, literally.

I stripped and slipped into the shower, sighing as 
the cool water washed the sweat off.  It soon turned 
cold and I shut it off, jumping out and toweling off.  
I didn't want to put my work clothes back on, so I 
left them thrown over the hamper.  I took a leak and 
just wrapped a towel around my waist.  I brushed my 
teeth and rinsed my mouth out, then exited the 
bathroom and headed for my bedroom. 

Marita looked up from the couch and said, "How are 
you feeling?  Oh my," she said suddenly when I turned 
toward her.

I grinned, not sure what she was admiring, but 
knowing she liked something she saw.  Her eyes 
skittered up and down my body and I felt my groin 
twitch.  "I need some casual clothes.  I'll be right 
out," I said gruffly and quickly made my way into the 
bedroom.  This time I shut the door and pulled some 
fresh boxer briefs, sweatpants, and a tee shirt out 
of my dresser.  I pulled them on and dug in my sock 
drawer for some athletic socks.  

Once dressed, I grabbed a sweat jacket that zipped up 
the front and slid it on.  I was still a little 
chilly but beginning to warm up.  This was like 
having a fever.  Hot one minute, cold the next.

I emerged from the bedroom to find Marita standing 
near the couch.  She had put the machine away and 
closed her briefcase.  She turned when she heard me 
come out.  

A smile slowly crept over her face as she took in my 
attire.  "I don't think I've ever seen you in 
anything but a suit," she remarked.

I held my arms up.  "What do you think?"

"You're a lot less intimidating in a sweat suit," she 
said jauntily.

I chuckled and made my way to the couch.  "Sit down 
with me for a little bit."

She resumed her place at the end of the couch and I 
motioned for her to come closer.  She hesitated but 
then slid down the cushions and leaned sideways 
toward me.  I put my arm over her shoulder and 
settled her body against mine.  I lifted my legs and 
propped my feet on the coffee table.  

She looked up at me and said, "I'm sorry.  If I knew 
you were going to get sick, I would have waited to 
eat."

"That's all right.  There's some more left.  I don't 
want it just yet though.  I put my free hand on my 
stomach.  "Things aren't that settled down there 
yet."

She frowned.  "I'm sorry."

"Nothing to be sorry about.  If this works, I'll be 
eternally grateful.  Is there a way to tell if it 
worked?" I asked.

She nodded.  "I can check tomorrow.  It should only 
take a day to rid your system of the dead nanocytes.  
The machine will be able to tell me if there are any 
left in you."

I nodded.  "Does that mean I get to see you tomorrow 
night too?"

She smiled at me.  "I guess it does."

"Thank you, Marita."

"Don't thank me yet," she said cautiously.

"Well, something is happening, that's for sure."

"I'm hoping that's a good sign.  I'm hoping it's what 
supposed to happen."

"Me too."

"Are you going to work tomorrow?" she asked.

"I don't know.  I'll play it by ear; see how I feel 
in the morning."

She nodded.  "Okay.  Maybe I should get going," she 
suggested.

I pulled her tighter to my side.  "Stay with me for a 
while."  I hesitated.  "Please."

She nodded and laid her head down on my chest, 
curling her legs up onto the couch and tucking them 
under butt.  I felt her arm slink around my back, and 
the other one rested on my sternum.  "What are we 
doing, Walter?"

"I don't know, but it feels good."

"I don't know if it's smart," she said seriously.

I wasn't sure how to answer that.  "I'm sick of being 
smart," I said finally.

She lifted her head to look at my face.  "You are?"

I smiled.  "Yeah, I am.  Always by the book.  I'm 
sick of it.  I want something different."

"Different?"

"Something new in my life," I clarified.  "All I have 
is work, and that's not enough anymore."

"It can consume you," she commiserated.

For some reason, I felt close to her, like I'd known 
her for years.  I knew this wasn't smart.  I didn't 
really know a damn thing about her.  I did know this, 
though.  She'd risked her neck to help me.  Of that, 
I had no doubt.  She couldn't be all bad.  I'd have 
to be careful.  Not knowing where her loyalties lay 
could be messy.  I'd have to insist on knowing more 
if I decided to pursue this.  As I weighed the pros 
and cons and she snuggled into my side and I felt 
warmth spread through my chest.

I wasn't feeling sick now which was good.  I hoped 
the nausea wouldn't return.  I looked down at her and 
kissed the top her head.  "I'm lonely, Marita," I 
said suddenly, wondering why I was opening up to her.

She looked up, her face softening in the dim light.  
"Hmmm, well, I might be able to help you with that."

"You think so?" I asked gently.

She nodded.  "Yeah, I do."

"Let's take it slow, okay?" I offered.

"That sounds good to me.  I don't know anything about 
you."

"Likewise.  How about we go out on a few dates and 
try to remedy that."

She smiled.  "You're on, Mr. Skinner."

"Walter," I reminded her again.

"Right, Walter.  I better get going.  You're going to 
need your rest."

I didn't want her to go but didn't have any reason to 
ask her to stay.  She picked up her briefcase.

I walked her to the door and tipped her face up to 
mine.  She didn't resist as I lowered my head, so I 
kissed her gently.  "See you tomorrow," I whispered.

She flashed a smile that was almost shy and said, 
"Right, I'll call you."  Then she slipped out the 
door.  

I reattached the chain lock and threw the dead bolt, 
feeling really empty and cold all of a sudden.  I 
headed straight for my bed and got under the covers, 
sleeping in my clothes.

XXXXXXXXXX
MARITA COVARRUBIAS' APARTMENT
ALBAN TOWERS
3700 MASSACHUSETTS AVENUE, NW
GEORGETOWN, D.C.
THE NEXT NIGHT

I'd taken care to make sure I wasn't followed.  I 
don't know why I was suspicious but it couldn't hurt.  
I rode the elevator up to the fifth floor and walked 
down the hall, noting that the shag carpet muffled my 
steps.  You would never hear anyone coming in this 
building.

I knocked on the door and waited.  She swung the door 
open moments later and gestured at me to come inside.  
I went in and she said, "Sit on the couch.  Let's get 
this out of the way first.  Then we'll eat."

"Okay," I said, making my way to the couch.

"How'd you make out last night?"

"Got sick one more time," I told her.  "I woke up 
shivering a couple of times, but other than that, it 
wasn't too bad."

"Anything today?"

"Not since this morning.  I felt nauseous but didn't 
get sick.  I decided to go into work and leave if I 
didn't feel well, but everything went fine."

"Good, I'm glad."  By now she had her gadget fired up 
and the red laser beam was pinpointing my chest, 
making me uncomfortable for some reason.  She began 
punching buttons and waiting, punching buttons and 
waiting.  After a third round of 'testing', she 
looked up with a big smile on her face.  
"Congratulations, Walter, you are nanocyte-free," she 
pronounced.

I shouted, "Hot Damn!"

She laughed and I laughed with her.  I slid toward 
her as she put the machine on the coffee table.  I 
scooped her toward me and she shifted, straddling my 
lap.  "Oh!" she exclaimed, as I pulled her into a 
wild kiss.

She only took a second to join in and then we kissed 
until neither one of us could breathe.  "Thank you, 
thank you, thank you," I murmured into her neck as I 
panted for breath.

She hugged me tightly, her arms around my shoulders, 
and I just enjoyed feeling her against me.  She 
backed up and cupped my face.  "I have to take that 
thing back," she said.

"I know, but it can't hurt me now.  I just hate the 
idea of it hurting someone else."

"One battle at a time, Walter," she cautioned me.

I sighed.  "I know."

"How much trouble could you be in if they found out 
you helped me."

She looked down and then away.  

"Marita?" I prompted her.

"A lot," she said softly.

"I figured that.  Do you want to take it back now?  
The sooner the better, right?"

"Tomorrow is good."

"The sooner the better, right?" I repeated.

She nodded reluctantly.  "I'm hungry," she said, 
totally out of context.

I smiled.  "Let's eat and then we'll take it back."

She stiffened.  "No, Walter.  I'll take it back."

"Marita, let me help."

"No.  Not this time.  If you were seen there, it 
would be a disaster."

"Where?" I asked.

She looked down again.  "I can't tell you."

I swallowed back my disappointment.  "Is that the way 
it's going to be?  You can't tell me anything, ever?"

"Not all the time, just certain things."

"You can trust me, Marita."

"I know, but it's more complicated than that."

"Not really," I rejoined.

She looked at me.  "Maybe someday.  Let's get to know 
each other a little better, okay?  I don't want you 
walk away from me because I can't be hundred percent 
forthcoming.  On the other hand, I don't want to 
jeopardize either one of us.  I have to be careful."

"I understand," I said, even though I didn't.  "Well, 
let's eat then."

She'd made a ziti casserole with lots of meat and 
cheese and it was delicious.  I ate with gusto and we 
drank beer this time, Heineken.  I tried to forget 
all the questions that were swirling in my head.  I 
tried to forget that I didn't like mysterious people.  
I tried to forget that I might be making a big 
mistake trusting Marita Covarrubias.



XXXXXXXXXX
PART 4 (NC-17)
MARITA COVARRUBIAS' APARTMENT
ALBAN TOWERS
3700 MASSACHUSETTS AVENUE, NW
GEORGETOWN, D.C.
ONE MONTH LATER

She'd returned the machine from whence it came, with 
no help from me.  

We'd seen each other about every other night since 
then.  I'd been careful not to have her come to my 
place.  We went out of town and enjoyed shows, the 
movies and dinners.  I enjoyed her company immensely.

I almost looked forward to the day rat-boy tried to 
manipulate me only to find out he was impotent.  His 
control had been removed.

Marita loosened up some, telling me about her job and 
her family, however, there was much I still didn't 
know.  The wait was killing me.  I'd resolved to be a 
gentleman and let her decide when we advanced beyond 
dating.  I was glad that we hadn't jumped in the 
sack.  That might have ruined the prospects for a 
longer-term relationship.  Now, a month later, I was 
losing my resolve.

Tonight, she'd asked me to come to her apartment 
again.  She was cooking.  I was looking forward to 
it, hoping that it meant what I thought it meant.

I knocked and she let me in, greeting me with a kiss 
and a butt squeeze.  She seemed to have a particular 
fascination with my ass.  That didn't bother me at 
all.  I was still a bit stunned that she was 
interested in me sexually.  She was quite a bit 
younger than me, although not horribly so.  I was 
fifty now, and she was forty-two, so there was a 
spread there, but not a huge one.  The problem was I 
looked every day of fifty.  She looked about thirty.

She'd prepared a pork roast with baby carrots and 
baked potatoes.  I feasted and groaned with pleasure 
throughout the whole meal, which seemed to amuse her.  
Afterwards, I helped her clear the table and do the 
dishes.  

I stood drying my hands on a dishtowel and said, 
"That was delicious, Marita.  You're a great cook."

"Thanks, I'm glad you liked it."

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure."

"Why did you ask me to come here tonight?"

She looked puzzled for a moment and then her face 
cleared.  "I wanted to be private.  Not that I don't 
like going to shows and fine dining, but that's all 
we've been doing for a while."

"How private?" I asked, cutting right to the point.

She stepped closer to me and cupped my face.  She 
actually looked a little bit nervous.  Despite that, 
she pressed herself against me.

I moaned as I spread my legs, leaning on the counter.  

"Very private," she whispered.  Then she kissed me.

Just the suggestion that we might take this forward 
made me mad with lust.  I crushed her to me and slid 
my hands down to cup her ass.  I nuzzled her neck and 
whispered in her ear.  "It feels like I've been 
waiting forever.  God, Marita.  I want you so bad."

She hummed and backed away from me, taking my hand 
and leading me through the living room and into her 
bedroom.  As early as two weeks ago, we'd discussed 
sex frankly.  She'd told me it had been about a year 
for her.  I admitted to my two-year self-imposed 
celibacy.  She told me that when the time came, she 
was on the pill to control her periods.  Pregnancy 
wasn't an issue and she swore she was clean, but even 
volunteered to have a test if I wanted.  I'd told her 
no; I trusted her, even knowing that probably wasn't 
the politically correct or smart thing to do.  She 
knew the Bureau gave regular yearly physicals and I 
assured her I was bug-free as well.

XXXXXXXXXXX NC-17 PORTION XXXXXXXXXX

I took my time undressing her, kissing her skin and 
trailing my fingers over her as she was revealed.  I 
suckled her nipples and caressed her back, finally 
rendering her naked.  I sat her on the edge of the 
bed and stood in front of her.  I pulled my polo 
shirt over my head and dropped it on the floor.

She stared, her breasts rising with her panted 
breaths.  She watched as I removed my belt and 
unfastened my khakis, letting them fall around my 
ankles.  I toed off my shoes and socks and stood 
before her in nothing but my boxer briefs.

She reached out, almost tentatively and hooked her 
fingers in the elastic.  I held my breath as she 
pulled them down slowly, removing the last barrier 
between us.  

Her breasts were generous and full and I couldn't 
seem to take my eyes off them.  I went slowly to my 
knees and she spread her legs to make room for me.  I 
felt slightly dizzy with excitement as my hands 
brushed up her legs, my thumbs caressing the soft 
skin of her inner thighs.

I let my thumbs fall into the crease where her legs 
met her crotch.  Her diaphragm jerked in a quick 
breath and she leaned back on her elbows, watching 
me.  Her lids were heavy and her eyes looked almost 
black with desire.  I lowered my head and kissed her 
tenderly on her curly hair.

It made her head go limp on her neck but then she 
pulled up to look again.  My thumbs moved to separate 
the delicate folds of her sex and reveal her to me.  
She was pink and lush and beautiful.

My tongue shot out and gave an experimental lick.  
Her breath hitched once and I savored the tangy, 
smoky flavor on my tongue.  Knowing she wouldn't push 
me away now, I dove in, kissing her sex like it was 
her mouth, trying to show her that she was infinitely 
beautiful there and so desirable.

She moaned and flexed her hips in the air, angling 
for the right amount of stimulation.  

I held one thigh in my hand and the other moved up.  
Gently sliding one finger inside made her sigh.  A 
few strokes later, I added a second finger, making 
her moan.  The continued licking of her labia, then 
moving up to her clitoris, teasing the hood with a 
circling motion of my tongue, produced even more 
results.

The spongy bundle of nerves swelled on my tongue and 
I licked harder, feeling her insides tighten on my 
fingers.  

She was squirming under my manipulations, as I pumped 
my fingers in and out of her at a steady pace.  When 
she was whimpering again, making that sound that made 
my cock throb, I turned my hand and hooked my fingers 
toward her pubic bone, feeling the front wall of her 
vagina.  I found the small patch of ridged skin and 
pressed hard, sucking her clitoris into my mouth 
fully, anchoring it with my lips and then swiping my 
tongue over it.

She cried out, her inner walls fluttering frantically 
on my fingers and her clitoris vibrating on my 
tongue.  Hearing her lose control caused a fist of 
pure hunger to knot in my gut and release between my 
legs as my stomach clenched.  I felt my cock throb, 
swell, and release precum from the sensitive tip.

I moved up and cradled her face in my hands, kissing 
her softly as she came back to me.  She looked up at 
me from glazed orbs, licking her lips.  I smiled.  "I 
can't wait much longer," I croaked.

She nodded, lifting her legs and perching her heels 
on the edge of the mattress.  I straightened and 
stood next to the bed.  I grabbed her thighs beneath 
her knees and pressed them backwards towards her 
chest.  I looked up at her.  "Are you sure you don't 
want me to use a condom?" I asked.  I had brought 
some just in case.

She shook her head.  "No, I want to feel all of you."

I was secretly delighted.  I braced her legs with my 
shoulders and reached down to cup her ass.  This 
position opened her completely for my first deep 
thrust.  I placed my shaft at her entrance, moving 
around to seat it properly.  Once there, my hand went 
back to her ass.  I gripped her firmly and thrust 
hard, snapping my hips and driving myself deep inside 
her velvet channel.

She cried out again.  I held myself still, letting 
her adjust to my size, and moaning myself at the 
tight, gripping feel of her snug muscles.  I was 
almost embarrassed to find I was sweating and 
trembling.  

I hissed through my teeth, "Feels so good, baby."

She panted heavily, her hands rising to soothe the 
tendons of my neck that were standing out with the 
strain.  

I pulled back gingerly, hoping I wouldn't lose it 
before we even got started.  I drove back into her 
hard, jarring her body and hearing a sexy, little 
grunt emerge from the back of her throat. 

I retreated again slowly, feeling my control return 
and drove into her again.  Her sheath grew warmer and 
a tremor raced down my shaft.  "Ohhhhwwwhhhoooaaa," 
she warbled.  "Oh God, I'm gonna come, Walter."

"Again?" I asked.

"Yes, oh God, just move," she breathed out.

I gritted my teeth and began to stroke into her in 
long, steady thrusts, grinding against her mound on 
the down stroke.  Three strokes later, her hands 
landed on my ass, encouraging me to go faster.  I 
obeyed her silent command and began driving into her.

My hips writhed in pleasure as I stroked into her in 
earnest, hoping to hold out until she could come 
again.  I wanted to feel it while I was buried inside 
her. 

She yelped and then moaned my name, "Ohhhhhh, 
Wwwaalllttteeerrr!"  I felt her release grip me in a 
staccato rhythm of quivers. 

I shouted, "Ohhhh, yes, here it comes."  I pushed 
into her as far as I could, pushing her to the limit 
and felt climatic pulses begin, taking me over.  Our 
cries mingled as we rode out the ecstasy.  

XXXXXXXXXX END NC-17 PORTION XXXXXXXXXX

My legs felt lame and I pushed her up on the bed as 
soon as I was able.  I crawled in next to her and 
pulled her on top of me.  She spread her lithe, 
slender body out over mine and I caressed her back, 
squeezing her ass playfully.

She sighed in contentment.  "God, that was 
fantastic," she murmured.

I kissed her cheek and then moved her head so I could 
reach her mouth, kissing her deeply but slowly.  She 
hummed and then collapsed onto my chest again.  
"Sleepy?" I asked the obvious question.

"Mmm, yeah.  Sorry."

"Nothing to be sorry about.  Sleep, beautiful."

"Was really good, Walter," she mumbled.

I grinned.  "For me too," I whispered, but she was 
already asleep.  "You were worth waiting for."

I had no idea if this relationship had any staying 
power.  However, as I laid there in the darkness with 
her warm body snuggled up against mine, I realized 
that for the first time in a long time, I didn't feel 
lonely.

I actually felt happy and content.  I smiled even 
though no one was watching and then ran my hands 
through her silky hair.  She wasn't a natural blonde, 
but I'd never thought that.  Didn't matter to me.  
She was beautiful, and she was warm and generous.  I 
just hoped she wasn't playing both sides of the 
fence.  She could be for all I knew.  If that were 
true, I would be crushed.  I was taking a big risk, 
ergo, a tangled web I was weaving.  I hoped it was 
worth it in the end.

Ultimately, only time would tell.  Until then, 
though, I was truly going to try and make it work.  I 
needed a relationship, someone to share my life with.  
I sent a little prayer towards the ceiling.  "God, 
please let this work."

Then I closed my eyes and enjoyed the feeling of 
lying next to someone again until sleep took me 
under.

THE END.