otherways Rome, Italy - September 1999 - March 2000

[i_vanquish_evil]

"Going where?" Angie asks him as she follows him down the long corridor.

"India."

"Why?"

"Some big thing they need me to take care of. I don't know. Same as always." He throws things into a bag, grabs his coat.

"Didn't you just get back?" she asks.

He growls, definitely unhappy. "Yes."

"When do you leave?"

"Hour. Two. Don't know exactly." He sighs and tosses his bag tot he floor.

Angie steps just a little closer, slides a hand up his arm to curl around his neck. "Wanna have a go before you leave?" She moves closer, rubbing against him, her knee stroking between his legs.

He gives her a look, wants to tell her 'no', but he's horny and hard and he'll be gone for a while. He sighs and shifts them toward the door, pushes it closed, then lifts Angie from the floor and presses her against the door. Lips and teeth mark her neck as her hands work to free him from his jeans. He moves her skirt out of the way, tears off her panties and thrusts in, fucking her into the door.

Angie throws her head back, pushing her fingers into his hair, rocking into his thrusts. "Yes, baby. Just like I remember it. Mmmm, I've missed this part of you."



*****



"Just let me handle it my way. It'll work. It is working. He won't have to say a word and you'll get all the information you need," Angie had told the Cardinal.

"I cannot condone this fornication as a means to obtaining this information."

Angie sneered at him. "Why not? You didn't seem to mind so much when he was fucking the hell out of David back at Milliways."

The prelate grolwed. "You will not use such language in my presence."

Angie just rolled her eyes. "Whatever. Look, I've got it covered. What's the problem?"

"Do whatever you must." He waved a hand at her. "Just do not let me hear of it."

She turned to go, bowing politely before she left. "Yes, Your Grace."



******



He is asleep, but he can still feel the hard, warm body pressing against his back; a warm, wet tongue grazing his neck. A small deep breath, then, "Mmmm, hi, Stephen." And he rolls over, curling his arms around the body he had been missing for three years. Lips find their mate, kissing softly at first, then harder, more desperate. He holds Stephen close, refusing to let go. He kisses him, tracing lips and teeth with his tongue.

"How did you find me? Oh, how I've missed you." He doesn't let him answer; he just kisses him again. With a deep breath and a sigh, he pulls away, eyes closed and asks, "This is a dream, isn't it?"

Dream-Stephen just smiles and nods, kissing him back.

Michael sighs, eyes closing again, and he wraps his arms tight around him. "I'm not letting you go. I need you, please don't leave me." And the tears start. He hates that, but he hates being without Stephen more. "I love you."

"I love you too, Michael. More than words." Stephen's hands smooth across Michael's shoulders and he kisses him.

He's still crying. He doesn't want to be, but he knows - this is a dream and Stephen will be gone much too soon. "Please, tell me you know something; you've found something; you're coming for me. Stephen... Stephen, please... I need you..."

Stephen smiles and nods, kissing away tears and kissing lips softly. "I can't help you, but to say keep trying and don't let them take you. They know."

"Don't let them take me? What? They know what? Who knows?"

Stephen says nothing more, just kisses him again.

Michael holds him tight, refusing to let go; refusing to stop kissing him. "You have to go soon, don't you?" At the answering nod, Michael's tears flow harder. "Please. No, Stephen, please don't leave me. Please, I can't do this anymore. I can't do this without you. Stephen, I love you, please, don't go..." and he's kissing between words, between pleas.

All the begging does nothing to keep Stephen nearby in anything but memory, to keep Michael from waking with a tear-stained pillow and his arms wound tight around another. For the next hour, he can do nothing but cry. He misses Stephen so very much... misses his voice, his touch, his laugh, his kiss, his little quirks... just him.

Quietly, Angie steps into the room and sits on the edge of hte bed, brushing hair from his face. "Hey, sweety, what's wrong?"

"I'm done. It's over. I quit. I just can't do this anymore. I'm finished. Tell the Cardinal to fuck off." He rolls away from her, curled up under the blankets.

"You know I can't do that. And neither can you."

"Fuck off, Angie. I'm done. I'll be out of the apartment by the end of the week. By the end of hte day if I get motivated.

******

"We're losing him again. Whatever you've given him, it's not enough. Or, not enough to keep him here. He's going to find a way back."

The Cardinal scowls and tells her adamantly, "No. He won't."

She gives him a confused look as she feels herself clicking her nails together nervously.

"Do whatever you must, but get him back here. Tell him, if he wants to quit, he needs to tell me himself."

"He won't like it, but okay."

******

Michael stomps into the Vatican and marches straight to the confessional, closing the door, but refusing to kneel...

..."Yes Your Grace. Nine AM." And Michael exits the Vatican into the cool Roman night.