137 Q Street
Part Thirteen
by sarAdora


Alex caught up with Neysa as she left the Promenade and grabbing her upper arm, steered her into the closest building. She tried to yank away from him, her fury propelling her physical ability, the adrenaline surge making her stronger. He held tight to her arm and knew he was bruising it, but unwilling to let her go.

"Neysa, let me explain. It's not what it seems. It's..."

"Vermin!" she hissed as he shoved her into an inside corner of the building. "Worse than vermin!" she snarled and spit at him, startling him.

No one had ever spit at Alex Morris before.

His anger surfaced and without thought, he pressed his body into hers, squeezing her tight, the weight and strength of his muscled chest against hers stifling her breath. In an instant he realized what he was doing and took a step back, his hands on either side of her head as he took several long and even breaths.

"Listen to me," he said sternly when he could speak.

"More lies?" Neysa sneered. "That's what you American police are good at, aren't you? Have you no shame?"

"No," he agreed. "I have no shame when it comes to you. I admit I was attracted to you the first time I saw you, but..."

"And that's why you locked me up in that basement? With those lunatics that questioned me? And then worked me to death at that house? Have you no regard for your own Constitution? Even *I* who was born elsewhere have heard of the Bill of Rights! You abused your power!" she sputtered.

"Your civil rights weren't violated," he muttered. "And in the interest of national security, the FBI has the right to..."

"Get away from me, Alex Morris!" Neysa said softly as she regained control of her temper. "Get away, far away! And stay there."

He let her slip under his arm, her accusing words stinging. Had he kept her incarcerated longer than necessary? Had he abused her civil rights? Shaking his head, he knew he hadn't done either of these things. It had been an oversight on their part to miss the difference in blood type between her and Amanda Labeau - an oversight that kept her incarcerated, but everything else was protocol - unusual protocol, but protocol nonetheless. There were few limitations placed on incarceration or interrogation when it came to national security.

"I'm only guilty of wanting you more than I've ever wanted anyone," he murmured as he watched her walk away. "And I'll do whatever I have to do to get you back in my life, in my arms and in my bed... even if I have to lock you up again!" he vowed.


Surveillance was a part of any field agent's job description. Countless hours watching and waiting were the meat and potatoes of undercover work. Often, it was the only way a suspected perpetrator could be apprehended. Alex Morris hated surveillance work with a passion but it was one of those mental exercises he did to keep focused on Neysa Zirnikis. Watching her, tailing her, learning every aspect of her life helped him make decisions about her. She *had* to listen to him; she *had* to understand that he wouldn't have cared if she really *had* been a bank robber. He wanted her.

Idiot!  his conscience sneered.

Okay... so that wasn't what I meant. I meant...

He meant that he was attracted to her *before* they discovered that she wasn't Amanda Labeau. He meant that he wanted her in spite of...

Should have told her who I was as soon as we met again. Should have tried to explain...

Wouldn't have done any good,  his common sense piped up. You wouldn't have gone this far if you had.

He nodded. He would never have made it to first base with her, would never have enjoyed her company, her... Got to make her understand.

Watching her when he could, noting her schedule, the way she approached her work, her interactions with the workers following her instructions as she landscaped various gardens and patios and out-of-the-way estates in the area... He was struck by her organizational abilities, the way she did everything in a precise manner, her efficiency. If he didn't know her, if he hadn't brought her to passion's peak time and again... he would have thought her a cold blooded robot, an efficient one but that's what robots were supposed to be. He knew better. The look of satisfaction on her face when she finished a job and it was well received, the enthusiasm she showed when she started a new project, the way in which she reveled in the pleasure they had shared... God! I miss her.

For weeks, he stared at a brick wall. No matter what Neysa was doing, Alex was stymied on how to bridge the relationship, get her to listen. He was reaching desperation and that's when inspiration hit. Desperate moves,  he thought. She's gonna fight me tooth and nail.

So?   his conscience questioned. This is a problem?

Not a problem,  he mused.

Then get your head out of your ass and do something!

Tonight,  he promised and went back to his office to put his plan in motion.


Calling in favors and throwing his weight around a little, he was able to get agents temporarily reassigned to other locations. He didn't want them anywhere around when he took Neysa Zirniklis back into custody. Not everyone knew that Amanda Labeau had been in Europe robbing banks; she could easily have come back to the United States. There were confidential case files that stated she had been arrested and then released to await trial in the United Kingdom, but anyone in law enforcement with a brain knew that bank robbers were never released, not even on bail. The Labeau woman was an international thief and on more "wanted" posters than any other bank robber in modern times. If she had been apprehended, she was being held under tight security. But... not everyone knew that.

Neysa Zirniklis could have been Labeau's twin. Alex was counting on that fact as the one he would fall back on if everything blew up in his face. The "misidentification" would give him at least 24 hours with her, maybe as much as 48 if he could keep the matter quiet. There was a good chance the Director would have his ass for this... There was a good chance his career was over... There was a good chance she'd understand and... happily ever after was in their future, a future they would have together... Shaking his head at his thoughts, he knew there was a damn good chance he was certifiable.


She missed him, she mused as she locked the door on her turn-of-the-century house, walking around it to decide what she'd fix next. She missed his arms around her. She missed his hard thrusts into her when he made love. She missed his heavily muscled body crushing hers while they were still joined. She missed the tenderness he showed when he turned onto his back and cradled her close, his mouth searing her flesh while his hands stroked her until they were calm. She missed teasing him post coitus and the growling sounds he made until he caught her hands. She missed showering with him. She missed the way he teased her... his laughter...

She hated him!

Miserable man! Thinks he can win me over with sex. Thinks I can forget what he did to me! Thinks I'll succumb to his charms just because he's... Who am I kidding? I miss him.  She sighed. "It was good with him," she reminded herself for the 10th or 20th or 500th time.

And then everything went black... out of the blue... a heavy cloak enveloped her... the top and bottom quickly bound... her screams of outrage muffled... a whisper through the cloth... the voice familiar but frightening.

~ End Part Thirteen ~

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