Spice & Raspberry Wine
by sarAdora ~~~~~~~~~~
18 Months Earlier
The basement didn't have sub-levels but Eric thought he'd go down there anyway, maybe one of his research agents knew Morgan. There wasn't much they didn't know about the workings of the FBI; their curiosity had already been responsible for resurrecting hoards of cats. He stood in the doorway and waited for one of them to realize he was there.
"Do you know Morgan Woodehouse?" he asked without explanation as one looked up and saw him..
"Yes, sir. She's a profiler, specializes in child abuse."
"Where does she work?"
"She's here in the building, sir."
"Where in the building?"
"I... I don't know."
"Where do you usually see her?"
"In the coffee shop or on the Mall, grabbing a bite. She shows up at the morgue once in a while - when a child..."
"When a child's been murdered? When she failed to catch the abuser?"
"Yes, sir. It effects her deeply, sir."
"It effects all of us that way, Agent."
The other agent listened, tuning in to the subtleties in his boss's voice, his curiosity and fertile imagination working overtime. "I know where she works," he said quietly.
"Where?" his boss asked, expecting an immediate answer.
"It's on a needs-to-know basis, sir. High security and all that..."
"Are you telling me your security clearance level is greater than mine?"
"No, sir. I'm saying that..."
"Where?" the AD barked.
"Office on the other side of the forensic lab. You have to go through the lab and down a corridor and then... I'll show you," he said, standing.
"I can find it," he assured them and left.
"Do you think I should call Morgan and tell her the AD is looking for her?" one agent asked the other.
"She's a big girl. She can handle herself."
She wasn't handling it very well when he found her. She was standing at her desk holding photos of a crime scene and softly sobbing. The child had been brutally raped, sodomised, beaten and stabbed. Morgan was certain it was the first of many crime scene photos she would see until this latest psychopathic killer was profiled and caught.
Eric caught a glimpse of the photo as he quietly walked up behind her and without thinking, put his arms around her shoulders, turning her in his arms.
"Mr. Cleve... Eric!" Morgan hiccuped.
"Can I offer a shoulder to lean on?" he asked quietly, his hand gravitating to her cheek, his thumb tracing a tear.
"I... I usually have better control. I... how did you know where I worked? I..." her tears continued to flow.
Gently, he pulled her into an embrace, his large hand curving to cup her cheek as it rested on his shoulder, her tears soaking his shirt.
"It's all right, little one," he murmured. "It's all right to cry."
"He's going to hurt someone else," she sobbed.. "I have to..."
"We don't get to win all the battles, Morgan," he said gently. "Sometimes, the bad guys get away from us before we can stop them."
"I have to stop this one," she said with determination.
"I'll help you," he said simply. "I'll put some of my people on it. They'll work with you. Is that okay?"
"What do you do for the FBI?" She looked at him closely. It was the first time she had seen him outside of the gym and she realized she had no idea who he was or what he did. By choice, she was in her own little world, mostly isolated from other FBI personnel.
"I'm the assistant director in charge of the criminal investigative unit."
"Oh," she gave him a shy smile, her eyes still damp with tears. "You're the sexy AD on the fourth floor."
"The sexy AD?" he grinned.
"That's what most of the women call you," she admitted. "They say you're surly and sexy and have a pretty hot temper."
"How sexy?" his grin got wider.
"There's a pool of women desperate to sleep with you. They have a lot to say about your firm ass."
His grin couldn't get any wider. "My firm ass? There's a bunch of woman looking at my ass? I'm flattered," he chuckled, color tinting his face. "How hot's my temper?" he wanted to know.
"A pit bull with PMS hot enough?"
He couldn't help it; he laughed. Then he cupped her face and kissed the tip of her nose and when she grinned, he picked her up under the arms and swung her in a circle. She was immediately dizzy and he pulled her onto his chest and kissed her - not the deep penetrating kiss he wanted to give her - a gentle, tender, exploratory kiss.
Morgan licked her lips and looked at him. He was terribly handsome and she wanted him to kiss her again.
"I've been wanting to kiss you since the first night I saw you," he told her, his eyes never wavering from hers. "Have dinner with me, tonight?"
"Can't," she said regretfully.
"Why not?" the surly AD wanted to know, his arms still holding her. "You got a date?"
"Have an appointment at the gym with a task master that rarely gives me a break - and only a five-minute one at that."
"I'll speak to him," Eric promised. "He'll let you off for the night so you can have dinner with me."
"Will I see your terrible temper?" she asked cautiously.
"Only if you don't eat all your vegetables," he grinned.
He didn't want to go slow with her. He wanted to touch her... all over... kiss the same spots... then make love to her. He wanted to rip her clothes off... crush her to his chest... explore her mouth, her body, her sex, then ride her till she ached. He wanted to taste her... feel the fullness of her breasts in his palms... suckle her nipples. He wanted to cup her ass... nuzzle her curls... lick her sex, then fill her with his rock hard cock and fuck her until his balls fell off.
He went slow.
She insisted on meeting him at the restaurant later that evening and when he said he'd rather pick her up, she slipped her smaller hand into his and said it was one of her rules.
"Do you have a lot of rules?" he had asked, a pained expression on his face.
"I have less now that I know who you are, Mr. Surly Assistant Director on the 4th floor."
"If you didn't know who I was, would you have worn a chastity belt to dinner?" he teased, enjoying the smile on her face.
"No," she winked. "You would have."
He was waiting for her when she drove up to a well-known bistro in downtown DC and waited for the valet to take her car. As soon as she turned it over, he escorted her to his car and putting a finger on her lips to stifle her protest, told her not to worry.
"I'm wearing my chastity belt," he told her, his jeans so tight they didn't leave room for the imagination and a chastity belt was nowhere in sight.
He took her to a supper club that featured live jazz, telling her he didn't want her to drive in and out of the area by herself. Morgan wasn't sure if she was flattered or annoyed. On the one hand he had her safety in mind; on the other, he had taken control of the evening away from her.
"Do you always get your own way, Eric?"
"Most of the time," he smiled. "Did I offend you by not trusting you to get here safely, Morgan?"
"I don't think so, but I'm not sure. Jury's still out." She was pleased he had asked and revised her opinion of his action. She thought part of her indecisiveness could be attributed to her admiration of his very fine ass in those tight jeans.
"If I'm indicted, do I get to appeal?" He really wanted her and he turned on the charm.
"What's involved in an appeal?" she asked softly as she gazed at his mouth.
"You tell me," he murmured, pulling her closer to him in the little booth where they had been seated.
"You'll have to kiss me again," she decided. "I liked your kiss."
"Consider it done," he breathed into her mouth as his lips covered hers.
"You're good at this," she told him when he released her mouth.
"I'm good at other things, too," he said softly, his jeans a little too tight this early in the evening.
"I'm sure you are," Morgan laughed softly. "But I'm not going to sleep with you no matter how good your kisses are."
"Why not?" he asked, cupping her cheek and rubbing his lips over hers.
"Because I have a quick temper," she replied, pulling back from his embrace. "And I haven't learned to control it... and when I lose it, I can be vicious... I could hurt you and I don't want to do that."
Eric nodded. Morgan wasn't bluffing - she sincerely believed she could hurt him and didn't trust herself with a man. Her recent experiences had left their mark on her and she was reluctant to take a chance. Gently, he pulled her back into his embrace and pulled her head down to his shoulder. "Let's just enjoy the evening, the meal and the jazz. Let nature take its course. Okay?"
"Yes," she agreed, grateful he hadn't pushed her into more intimacy. She was attracted to him and wanted the relationship to grow slowly. Eric wasn't happy but he didn't want to lose any ground they had already gained.