Subj: Eye of the Storm 1/1
Date: 97-02-12 20:51:19 EST
From: email@example.com (Amber)
This little interlude is a continuation of "Storm Front", which I posted on 2/11. You might want to read that first. BTW, I am thinking of posting this series to jadfe as well, but I'd like some feedback first!
Nick and company don't belong to me but to Sony - I'm only having fun with them. Morgaine, however, is mine.
Eye of the Storm - 1/1
Amber Murray - copyright 1997
Nicholas sat at this desk, idly twirling a pencil between his fingers. A pile of half-finished reports lay untouched before him, the eddies of activity that flowed around him unable to penetrate his thoughts.
A feeling of bone deep satisfaction still permeated his being. He had lost count of the number of times he and Morgaine had made love the previous night, continuing long after he had shut the blinds against the prying sunlight. They had loved each other over and over, tumbling into sleep only after their considerable strength had been drained. He had left her sleeping, glorious hair glowing like dark fire against the black sheets, a slight smile curing her mouth.
His chair creaked as he leaned back, flicking gently through the thoughts she had shared with him through her blood. There had been few words; there had been no need. Memories of her transformation, the deep love she had held for her master, an artist and follower of what she thought of as the Old Ways. Morgaine believed her master had been a priestess of Avalon, and was honored to have received the gift of immortality. That was how she saw it - a gift, to be savored and treasured.
And shared. He noted with surprise the place he held in her heart, at the amount of time she had watched him and waited for the time to be right. He had never guessed in their somewhat brief friendship that she had marked him as hers.
Marked him she had, however, and if he were completely honest with himself, he had to admit he liked the feeling. He liked a lot of things about her. He liked the way she moved when she walked across the room, the way her hair swirled around her body when she turned, the scent of her skin, the taste of her mouth. He liked the way she made love with complete and utter abandon.
She made love like she lived life, he though wryly. She gloried in existence, the very fact that she was granted another day reason enough to live it. The shadow of cloud across the moon, the laughter of a child, the delicate fragrance of a rose - all these were reason enough to go on.
<How long has it been since I've felt truly alive?> Nick wondered. <How long since life was its own reason for living?> Too long, he decided. Much too long.
"Nick? Earth to Nick?" A startled glance fell on Tracy, irritation knitting her fair brows together. "Nick, you haven't even touched those arrest reports. May I remind you that I have taken care of *all* our paperwork for the last month, and that you swore, come hell or high water, that you would do those tonight?"
Nick sighed. "Yeah, I remember. Sorry, Trace. My mind was...elsewhere."
Tracy glowered at him before falling into her own chair. "I'll say. If I didn't know you better, Nicholas B. Knight, I'd say you were thinking about a woman."
"And why is that so unlikely?" he retorted.
Tracy fidgeted uncomfortably in her chair. "Well, I just...I mean, I never see you with...I thought maybe you and Nat..."
"Hey, Knight!" The loud call interrupted a very grateful Tracy. "Someone here for you!"
Nick swiveled around, and if such a thing were possible his heart would have begun to race.
Morgaine made her way through the crowded room, officers parting before her like the Red Sea. She wore form-fitting black jeans and boots, with a white T-shirt tucked in at the waist. *His* shirt, he noted. She was also wearing his short leather jacket, a fact that was not lost on his co-workers. Tracy included, if the size of her eyes were any indication. If her eyebrows raised anymore, they'd disappear.
Morgaine trailed a finger over the top of Nick's computer screen before she settled gracefully to the edge of his desk.
"Hi," she said softly.
"Hi, yourself," he replied. He wanted very badly to touch her. "I thought you'd still be asleep."
She shook her head. "I got lonely in that high-tech dungeon of yours. Besides - I wanted to see where you worked." She moved the toe of one boot up and down the inside of his knee as she spoke. She fingered the jacket. "I hope you don't mind that I borrowed this."
Nick would have given her his right arm, and gladly, and she knew it, the little minx. He wrapped caressing fingers around her ankle. "It looks good on you," he whispered.
The very air between them seemed to crackle, and Nick had to clamp iron fingers around his libido to keep from taking her on top of the desk, in front of God and everybody. A faint heightening of her color, noticeable only to him, betrayed her similar condition.
The sound of a throat clearing knifed through the strangely quiet precinct. Nick tore his eyes from Morgaine to focus on an expectant Tracy.
"Tracy, this is Morgaine Brennen.. Morgaine, my partner, Tracy Vetter." Morgaine leaned over the desk, hand outstretched.
"I'm pleased to meet you, Tracy. Nicholas holds you in high regard." Her words and her smile were sincere, and Tracy found herself liking this strange woman as she took the offered hand.
"Thank you," Tracy murmured.
Morgaine favored Nick with another brief smile before gaining her feet. She tapped the pile of reports with an index finger. "It looks as though I'd better leave you to work," she said ruefully.
Nick stood up quickly beside her. "I'll walk you out." The caressing way he put his hand to the small of her back did not escape Tracy. Morgaine smiled at the flabbergasted detective.
"I enjoyed meeting you, Tracy. I'm sure we'll see each other again."
"No doubt. Take care," Tracy managed to reply.
Nicholas was aware of every eye following them out of the room. He could smell the desire Morgaine inspired, and wanted to snarl at the general population of the squad room. They stepped into the hallway, and Nick swung Morgaine into his arms.
"So - where will you be when I get off work?" he asked.
Morgaine looked up at him with clear, guileless eyes. "Where do you want me to be?"
Nick leaned closer, stopping a breath away from her lips. "I think you already know the answer to that question," he breathed. He moved to kiss her, and she captured his lower lip between her teeth, running her tongue along its contour before releasing it. Nick's hands crumpled the leather of the jacket as he scrabbled for control. He opened his eyes to see her smile.
"I'll be waiting, Nicholas," she promised before deftly slipping from his arms and turning away. She didn't walk so much as flow down the hall, and he found he couldn't take his eyes from her.
When she was no longer in sight he turned, and found himself face to face with Natalie Lambert. Her pain and anger were palpable.
"Would you like to explain that little scene?" she spat.