Track Ops: 'Reflection'

Ace told a beautiful story.

She told a sad one with a little slices of regret and remorse in them while she felt over the tattoos as Marce did. They all seemed unorthodox as to why she got them, but the tale behind them was enough to keep him interested. He looked from her lips when she talked and the tattoos as she described the origin. He had never heard her talk that much before. It almost seemed like it was privileged. As she told her stories, Marce followed her words with his fingers trailing over each and every inked blotch on her exposed skin. He tried to feel what he had felt when they looked at the pictures of 2 out of 47 girls. He wanted to feel the regret when she talked about her best friend. He wanted to see the rest of the UV tattoo. He wanted to pay respect to her lost grandmother with the image of the birds. Each time she switched to a new easel of art, Marce walked along with her down the nostalgic road.

She was starting to get quieter, voice dropping falling a tone until finally she remained silent. Marce looked over to her, blue eyes glowing with the dim of the tablet. It hadn't been touched in a while so it powered down to standby mode. He didn't mind. In fact, he let the device slip to the side of his hip, letting it fall down on the couch. He was still doing work. He was getting to know this 'Reflection' better.

"I don't have any tattoos. Never wanted any. Ops aren't supposed to be afraid of needles. My Drill Serg once said, 'A needle ain't nothin more than a skinny knife tryin to stab ya. Who said you were scared of a knife?' Besides, we had so many tests done on us, I thought we were all just test rats for a good minute My blood was drawn, transfused, stored. It was all security, they said. Yeah. If I turned up missing, they could find me with that stuff."he paused, smiling down at her.

"I should do that to you sometime. Take a bit of blood while you're asleep so the next time you leave, I'll know about it. I'll always find you, Grace."

He didn't mean to say the next words. They came out. They bubbled in his throat when caught eye contact with her. He slipped his fingers down to her hand and twitched, letting it hover. His teenage, boyish self came back, looking at her hand as he grabbed it in his own.

"Look. I'm sorry for scolding you like some over protective father. I know I told you I don't have to protect you. It's not my job. It's not. It's not my duty to let you stay in this house. It's not my business to know about you, your past, and your tattoos. It's not my job to keep you close to me. I don't know why I fucking do it."he said, giving a fake laugh before he let her hand go to string his hair back.

"I'm going to Romania in two days to pick up Emily. You're coming with me. We're getting a hotel 12 miles away from where she is and we're only going to stay there for half the day. One room, one bed. I want you to be ready."he paused to look into her eyes with a hidden smile.

"And if you're not ready, I can make you ready."
 
Ace was going to retort to his comment about taking her blood while she slept, but his last comment made her shut up. Not only did he use her real name, but his words held more of a promise than a threat. She gazed at him in silence, then flicked her eyes down at her hand as he took it.


"Because you're crazy?" she suggested quietly as he paused and messed with his hair.


She fell silent and looked back up to his eyes as he started speaking again, telling her how he was going to go to Romania. When he said that she was coming with him, she blinked. He couldn't be serious. Earlier he was all for keeping her away from anything remotely interesting and now he was dragging her along on a work mission?


Not that she was going to protest.


However, he did manage to get a startled expression out of her when he went on about the hotel room and how they'd only be there for half of a day. Either he was talking about what she immediately thought of.. or he was fucking with her.


She was betting on the latter.


"And how would you plan on making me ready, Marce?" she challenged, wondering with obvious amusement what he would say to that.
 
"You're so defensive with me,"he said with a smile before he leaned towards her. He pulled her into his arms and slowly lowered his head, his lips lightly brushing hers in a sweet, no nonsense, see-you-around kind of kiss. Though the two of them were not going anywhere, he didn't think she was thinking too much into it at the moment. When he raised his head, their eyes met. Paralysis had suddenly decided to find its way into his bones, gluing him into place only inches away from her lips. He could have pulled away, but instead he wrapped his arms around her back in a tighter embrace, and this time, there was nothing sweet or hurried about their kiss.

Her mouth was hot, wonderfully hot. A stupor struck a chord when he realized how long it had been since he had gotten a taste of a woman; the last time he yearned for a taste of a woman. He had a feeling he didn't need to force their lips apart and that she would just willingly give him what he wanted. It was the dream of the second but Marce was not going to stop once he was ahead. Besides, he would be glad to explain to her afterwords why he had done it. It was simple: He was only trying to prepare her for Romania. Why he had to kiss her to do so, that could wait until a later time.

He had found himself suddenly busy. His tongue found its way as it penetrated her mouth and rubbed against hers, igniting such a heat inside himself. He stroked and explored her mouth with the deepened kiss, learning the taste of her. However willing or unwilling Ace had become did not matter a bit to Marce. A kiss shouldn't be lazy and erotic at the same time, but that one was unbelievably arousing. He acted as though he had the rest of the night to seduce her, and when he ended the kiss, he could have taken anything he wanted.

He knew it and she it knew it.

Marce didn't say anything. He simply stood up and crooked his head towards the door to his room without a word. His lips were still trembling with the remnants of excitement between the two of their lips. Marce didn't know if she was following him or not. Maybe she was too afraid that she thought he would dominate her without remorse. Tempting though the thought was, Marce wanted her to have a bit more respect in him than that. He wasn't just an erect penis waltzing around trying to screw her every chance he could. Even if the Merenzo thing wasn't so big, he still would have never been like that. He respected women for what and who they were.

Still. Why did she have to feel so good?!

He flung the shirt off of his pillow and crawled into the bed after gathering the covers that were on floor from earlier that morning. He made sure to leave the door open for her. If she wasn't in the bed in 5 minutes, he'd simply pick her up and put her in there. By now she should have known that he only needed her to sleep with him for safety. He closed his eyes and sighed against his pillow, hoping to everything good, green, and pure that he would wake up the same way he had done that morning.
 
Ace expected some sort of horribly teasing retort about how he would shoot at her once he had her cornered in a room alone - or perhaps he was going to tie her to the one bed that he mentioned and torture her for information, getting his revenge on her for not listening and staying in the house like a good little criminal should. She was honestly giving him no credit at this point, because he had been nothing but a wretchedly mocking man up until now.


And of course he decided to go against expectations. Again.


She was about to retort to his observation before he slid his arms around her and she had to look up at him. It wasn't forced - she was mostly just curious. That, and her heart was stuttering like a nervous prom date trying to start a conversation.


Her mind shut down the logical side and started up with the nonsense as soon as his lips came into contact with hers. This wasn't reality, surely. She was hallucinating. Perhaps she had fallen asleep on the couch. He was being depressing enough for that. Yet this wasn't her usual nightmare, and it felt a lot more real than any of her daydreams had..


Not that she had ever daydreamed about Marce Jove. Ever. Nope.


She was staring at him in blank shock when he pulled away to look at her, unable to make any sort of sarcastic or mocking statement about what just happened. It was alright, though. She figured that was the end of it and that he'd just go about his night. Of course he couldn't just do that and leave well enough alone, though. He just insisted on poking the bear even more.


Barely a full second after his lips pressed into hers again, she found herself looping her arms around his neck and kissing him with a passion that she was starting to think that she had lost. Her body was alive with an electric current that was fueled by his touch and ignited by his motions. She could feel his muscled chest pressing to hers, the feel of his arms holding her firmly against himself, the heat that radiated from both of them and seemed to be trying to set the nonexistent space between them aflame.


When he pulled away, she was disoriented and breathless. She barely registered that he had left the couch and gone into the bedroom after the silent invitation to join him. Her mind was reeling and she felt strangely cold in his absence. His fault, of course, for heating her up so much. It wasn't the first time they had kissed, she reminded herself, thinking on when they just met.


But it was the first time that it felt as though they both truly wanted to.


She finally got up and made her way to the bedroom, dropping clothes along the way in a trail until she was down to the same single-garment attire that she had climbed into bed with the night before. At this rate, by tomorrow night they would be all over each other and breaking in his couch. Not an unappealing idea.. She shook her head to rid herself of the thought and climbed into bed next to him, not saying a single word as she debated snuggling up to him. Eventually she came to a compromise with herself and nestled up to his side.
 
[DASH=white]I probably did something bad. No, I know I did something bad. It didn't feel bad, no. It felt amazing, but I probably shouldn't have done it. What's going to come with it? Is she going to come crying in my arms begging me to marry her and bare her children or some shit? No. I can't do that. My life is not able to be settled or compromised. I have a job to do and I can't have some woman coming in and screwing it up.

I wish I could keep calling her 'some woman.' When I say it in my head it doesn't sound like she's that important to me. The more I think about saying it, the better I feel about the kiss. I just kissed some woman. I'm just about to sleep with some woman. I don't know why I can't get her name and face out of my head, though. It pisses me off. Ace just waltzed in my home and put all her shit down. I heard about overstaying your welcome but this is ridiculous. She's so comfortable here and I...I like the company.

That's all she is, right? Company? Just a guest staying in my home, in my bed, in my head? Just some company that I kissed and held against me like she was going to turn into dust if I let her go?

There's no feelings there. Never have been feelings. I don't love her. Hell, I don't even like her. She probably doesn't like me either. There. We're on the same page. So what if we kissed? My name isn't inked all over her arms like those tattoos. Like all of those tattoos all over her body. I haven't gotten to see all of them.

I want to. I'm going to.
​

-Marce
Spec Ops #14
July 21st, 2002[/DASH]​





He was smiling the entire way into dream land once he put his journal down on the stand beside him. The two of them were in the safe confounds of his bed and they'd be that way in the morning. Bob would be expecting them to be at the office at 7 in the morning which is why he slept early. The clock on the nightstand read 10:13pm, more than enough time for the of them to get a good night's sleep. Marce couldn't just sleep! Not after what he and Ace had just shared. His hand felt the side of his cheek and his soft stubble, wondering why she hadn't smacked him into next century. He himself even figured she would lash out at him in a bottled up rage she stored against him.

Oh well. It didn't matter anymore. He had prepared her.

Sleep came in slow breaths from he and Ace. He refused to sleep until he felt the mound of her body rise and fall in her soundless sleep. He kept himself occupied by looking towards he bathroom door, imagining what the moment they shared was capable of. Surly the two had something else hiding through the kiss. It wasn't just a simple, swift gesture that could have been tossed away a minute later. No. The rapid thumping of his heart stayed, trying to let out silent beats behind his broad chest. The covers had been wrapped around the two of them and yet, Ace still nestled her body against his. He fought hard not to turn around and fought temptation in a greater battle. Whether he would win or lose, she was still going to Romania with him.

He fell asleep, wondering if they'd have any neighbors in the hotel.
 
The entire night was filled with wonderful dreams.


Ace dreamed of going on a killing spree with Marce in a big warehouse filled with nothing but Merenzos, as if they were some sort of product to stock on the shelves. When they were done, they were handed over all of the girls in a big wrapped box like the final prize of a game. It was messed up, but in her dream it made sense.


The best part, of course, came after - when her dreams turned to the hotel.


She woke up around five in the morning with a dire urge to go to the bathroom. After slipping out of the bed as quietly and gently as she could, she darted into the bathroom as if she might explode otherwise. Why is it always like that upon waking? She grumbled to herself and finished up, washing her hands and running her hands through her messy curls. Ah, bed head. So lovely. She rolled her eyes and wandered back to bed, sneaking back in just as gently as she had climbed out.


Once back in, she couldn't fall back to sleep despite how warm and comfortable she was. So, instead, she studied Marce closely. This was the first time that she could openly examine him without him staring back at her or saying something that made him less attractive.


Which was almost anything he ever said.


She smirked at the thought and scooted closer until her belly lightly brushed his. Hm, he really was adorable when sleeping. Her eyes flicked to his lips and she thought of what he had done last night. In preparation? Maybe. It could have just been an excuse to kiss her. But why did he want to do that? He was supposed to hate her. Maybe she wasn't just imagining the tension between them was more than hatred. She smiled lazily, thinking of all the 'soft' moments they had had.


Hmm..


She came a mere centimeter from poking his nose with her own, making absurd faces at him all the while like a child might. It amused her to no end, but she had a better idea. She laid her hand on his chest carefully and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, lingering for a few moments.
 
There were no early morning birds that decided to construct an orchestra outside his window that morning. The sun hadn't begun to peek around the horizon quite yet, but the time on the clock reading 5:48AM told the tale of the morning. Dew dripped from forest green leaves of a crooked tree hugging the atmosphere above Marce's house, pattering down onto the window pane in soft splashes. The water rolled down the glass, linking with other droplets just like it for a race to the end of the window. The morning was innocent and new, not aware of the things soon to take place in the BAD and Romania. For a moment, the world took a breather. It showed that it was capable of peace and bliss sometimes.

Meanwhile, in Marce's head, Ace's legs were pried open.

Time was starting to knock against the walls in his head, ordering his brain to wake up and function, but he didn't want to. He knew it would come sooner or later. No one really ever got to the best part of their dream before being rudely awaken by time and their body. He hated that he took his slow time in his dream, letting his fingers make strange patterns across her skin. Marce was sincere even in his dreams it seemed. His chest rose and fell when the last seconds of the dream sprinkled away in a blanket of dust in his mind, making way for the awareness of the morning. Feeling crept back into his body as the numb feeling of sleep dissipated. His brain started to function properly, sending electrical signals through his body to wake up. As soon as he moved a pinky, something soft landed on his chest and drew a shiver from him that was quickly quoted by a brush of some sort of silk against his lips.

The familiar feeling had Marce paralyzed. He remembered the feeling of silk against his lips from last night; how luscious and soft it felt. Her lips had found their way on Marce's and, without warning, he slipped his arm around her waist with what navigation he had while his eyes were closed. The kiss grew deeper when he drew her closer onto him. It was not a lot of effort since she had obviously been pretty close to him for a while. Still, he wanted her to get as close as she could without being a part of him.

Though, now that he thought about it, that wasn't such a terrible suggestion.

His lips danced over hers in a gentle kiss, parting his lips to take her in more, to give him a reminder of how she tasted. Her mouth held the same heat as hours before and it was driving him mad. The dream he had only minutes ago motivated him to employ his entire body into the kiss. The darkness in the room did nothing to hide the fact that it was morning time, meaning one thing for Marce Jove: He was no longer in control of his body.

"Jesus, Ace..."he whispered after their lips unlocked to give them air. Bright pools of blue swam over her face, the natural glow of her beauty poisoning him at that time of morning. Morning. His emotions didn't belong to him anymore. Ace was pressed against him in a comfortable grasp, his hand placed around her lower back. She looked to him for warmth in the embrace, the kiss lingering between them. This was the last time they had a moment of peace and calmness before the chaos of Romania threatened to ensue. These were the last minutes of tranquility they had. Ace may have came to him for comfort and support, but she came at the wrong time. It was the morning.

Marce no longer gave a damn.

"Stop me,"he breathed against her lips, planting succulent kisses along her jawline, still drawing her body closer.
 
Uh oh.


This was supposed to be a kiss-the-sleeper-and-run deal, not a wake-the-sleeper deal! Ace felt a bit uncertain about the whole thing.. until she realized that he had pulled her closer. That took a moment to really sink in. He hadn't pushed her away - he had pulled her closer and was kissing back.


Alright, either last night wasn't a fluke.. or he was still asleep.


...


Either way, she refused to miss out.


She parted her lips as he did, her body now pressed firmly against his as he held her and made it even more obvious that she was one scrap of cloth away from being completely naked. The touch of his tongue ignited the same heat and passion inside her that it had last night, and she was soon kissing him back deeply as her hands cupped his cheeks. It wasn't until he pulled away that she opened her eyes and stared at him, breathless.


He looked the same as when he was asleep, apart from a faint tension that was probably from him holding back, and his eyes. They were so, so beautiful. Ace used to wish for blue eyes like that, later deciding they were too innocent to suit her anyway. On Marce, they were anything but innocent.. especially when he moved his kisses along her jaw and made her gasp in stunned pleasure.


'Stop me'. Yeah fucking right, Marce Jove. You're a funny man.


"No way in hell.."


She shifted to bring her lips back to his, kissing him heatedly and resting one hand on the back of his head as the other rested against his chest.
 

Dammit.

The tension that had gathered between the two of them somehow disappeared when they were in bed together. Odd as the fact sounded, it was nothing less than the truth. Marce had forgotten all of the sarcastic remarks he shouted at her and all the arrogant retorts she tossed right back. He had forgotten about every little bad thing that happened to the two of them up until that point. He didn't care anymore. Ace had made it clear what she wanted and he was either going to be a good little operative and express to her the dangers of her decision...

...Or continue not to give a damn.

Her voice died down to a whisper as he realized that her statement had switched to a new plane; that what was between them was attraction. An attraction that couldn't have been stopped. An attraction that he needed, that he wanted, was Ace. And she knew it. He could see it in her eyes; the surprise, apprehension, anticipation. Would it have been cruel if he reminded her about the girl's lying in wait for the two of them, impatiently waiting to be saved? Should he have reminded her that Bob was going to have his hide if he didn't get to that office when he ordered him to, probably slinging curses in his sleep? The darkness outside his window enveloped the two of them, covering his mind in a shadow of lust.

He was positive it was lust. Had to be. Better be.

He slid his fingers into her hair, leaned forward with her, and matched his mouth to hers experimentally. A jolt went through him, a deep current that pulled at him, pulling him closer to her if it were possible at all. He settled his mouth against hers and tasted her with a kind of innocence he could barely remember. He had never been careful with anyone like that before, afraid that if he were to squeeze her a bit harder, she would shatter into brilliant pieces of glass. His hand cradled the back of her head and he continued to kiss her deeply, without reserve, his tongue sliding against hers.

It was bad that his fingers found the small of her back, momentarily shocked at how soft her skin felt against his fingers. He broke away from her mouth, laying frozen, paralyzed by the emotions and sensations unleashed by her kiss. Heat, fear, need, a dangerous excitement. It shocked him that he allowed her that intimacy, that she wanted it. That she wanted him. He wasn't able to meet her eyes, but he could still feel her looking directly at him. Right on cue, he groaned in his throat in anger at the hand that lay on his chest, breathing hot and heavy breaths. He was annoyed with himself for doing this. This was all his fault. He was masculine, it was morning, and she was beautiful. Marce Jove should have been smarter than to allow his attraction towards her drown out his responsibilities. He was ashamed he let some woman come in and screw with his head and emotions.

The need to apologize to her with his body overwhelmed him, trailing his fingers up her back and back down and tantalizing patterns. He stopped kissing her lips but only made it towards her jaw and neck, grabbing her skin between his teeth in small nibbles. In short, he was stalling. Maybe Ace didn't know what she was saying when she refused to stop him. Maybe she needed a little more motivation. Maybe the real-world responsibilities would finally hit her, causing her to rip her body away from her.

But, until then, he would take his fingers on a journey down her body.
 
The river.


It was her first thought when his fingers tangled in her hair as he kissed her. This was how he had held her head in place next to the river while they 'proved' to the Merenzo present that they were a couple. At that time, it had gotten to her far more than it should have, and she had to pull away and make up an excuse. Never did she think that she would experience that thrill again, yet here they were. He was being far more gentle this time - he wasn't looking at her as a freshly caught criminal, but as a woman who wanted him.


At least, that's what she hoped.


Hoped? Why would she hope that? Her mind answered her before logic could step in and tell her otherwise. She really did want this to keep going. It was more than a faint wanting. There may as well have been sparks flying between the two of them as the kisses heated up again and their bodies pressed against each other. His hand that slid down to hold the dip of her lower back felt so deliciously warm.


It was severely disorienting and oddly cold against her lips when he broke away withut warning. She opened her eyes and looked at him, uncertain how to really feel now. Honestly, she had started it, so he may be angry. Yet he had kissed her back and very obviously enjoyed it. He looked like he was in shock. She tilted her head slightly to ask what was wrong, but then he let out a groan and she bit her lower lip. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. She hadn't meant to wake him, really - or had she? It was all so wretchedly confusing, and for the first time in years, she was at a loss.


She relaxed slightly when he came back to her and began pleasuring her along her jaw line and on the tender skin of her neck, but now her thoughts were working hard against her. He really didn't want this, and she was sure of it. Not that she blamed him. She gently pushed him away and shook her head slightly.


"I'm going to go shower," she said softly, looking away and slipping out of bed to walk over to the bathroom and get a grip.
 
Marce couldn't have stopped her even if he wanted to. Even if he swore to stop her from walking away from him and to that bathroom, he wouldn't have made a move at all. She was stubborn like that. She hardly ever took no for an answer and didn't listen to directions given to her from the higher ups. She probably even disobeyed the Constitution if it meant doing things her way. Still, they weren't at work and nothing was expected from the two of them. Nothing but a little bit of alone time in the bed. Almost naked. He looked over at the clock and ignored the time. Whatever reason she had for pulling away, he wasn't going to voice it. If he did, he would have been borderline verbally raping her, and that wouldn't not have been the brightest thing for an op to do.

A semi-naked op, that is.

The bed was seemingly lonely without the dent of her body and her heat to keep him company. He wanted so much, did so little, expected everything, gave something, got nothing. He was a little teen male with the hottest prom date that ignored him the entire night, ditching him over punch, though comparing 47 girls to a bowl of fruit punch was lower than low. He had to remind himself that, man or not, she had her own free will. She was a problem, yes. She was a headache, definitely, but it was his idea to drag her out of that burning apartment and into his home. Marce had to deal with his decisions.

But that didn't mean next time he would be as courteous.

He smiled to himself more than anything, heaving his upper body forward until he was sitting in the bed, legs stretched out and almost touching the bottom pole of his bed. The sheets and covers pulled down, exposing his bare chest for the second morning in a row. He was getting used to this kind of sleeping.

"Don't use all the hot water this time. Naked men don't do well in the cold,"he said in almost a singsong voice. What a morning.
 
Naked men don't do well in the cold.


Hm. Well, if it's one thing she's learned over the years, it's that he was right. Men are babies.


Ace said nothing, scrubbing her fingers through her hair until it was in such a lather that she could have styled a beehive if she wanted to. Of course, she rinsed it out instead, but it was still a thought. Washing her body didn't take long, even with going slowly around her lower back. Shaving was very quick. By the time she stepped out and flicked the water off, it was still steaming. She scrunched the water out of her hair with a towel and pulled it back into a wet braid, a few tendrils escaping to frame her face since they were too short. Not the best look, but it would do. She wrapped a towel around herself and wandered out to the bedroom to hunt down clothes.


"Your turn," she commented absently, barely glancing at him as she bent down to pick up a few bags.


She set a bag on the bed and rummaged through it until she found what she wanted. That corset and skirt number that had worked so well on Marce wasn't the only thing she picked up when they had their shopping trip. Now that she wanted to distance herself from him and forget that he didn't want it, she would wear something more.. appropriate. By her standards, anyway.


Black pants so snug they may as well have been painted on, with delicate silver chains along the cargo-style pockets. A studded belt. A low-cut black Ramones tee that was purposely razor-ripped in a few places to let a bright red undershirt show through. That would do it for now, she figured, adding some light eyeliner and a swipe of gloss that she'd probably end up licking off when she got bored. She put everything else away, packing up since they were supposedly leaving. When she was done, she went out and sat on the couch, feeling like a dejected teenager.
 
Once she gave him the ok-go, Marce had about enough.

"This fighting you're doing with me is cute," he said with a smirk while she walked out looking like a completely different woman. Despite the long night of sleep and the shower, she looked exhausted, like she wanted nothing more than to just plop right back down in that bed and sleep the day away, not being bothered with anything. Too bad for her she was with Marce Jove and they had to fly halfway across the globe to save some little girls. Once he got up from the bed and stretched out his double decade bones, he walked past her as if nothing happened between them at all. Even though she was the one who initiated what he was anticipating a good, long time for, Marce's damn good sense of pride and justice wouldn't leave his mind. The dying girls couldn't let him go long enough just to get a quick one in, though he knew good and damn well the last thing it would have been was quick.

He carried that thought with him and the same smirk to the bathroom, closing the door behind him so she could do her changing and whatever else women spent too much time doing. He planned on making the shower and change of clothes quick so Bob's nuts wouldn't explode if the two of them were late, even though he wasn't looking forward to seeing Ace again after the...last encounter. Just as he expected, the hot water was on for about 5 more minutes before it switched to a lukewarm kind of cold.

Marce swore under his breath and washed himself up and down quickly, only rinsing for about 30 seconds before hopping out and squeezing a towel around his body. He made his way to the mirror and shaved since he didn't too much care for the rugged look on him. As soon as he was done, he combed through his hair for the first time in 4 days. The tiny comb ran through his scalp before he swooped it back out of his face, even though it was only going to topple back in his eyes again.

His clothes were waiting for him on the bed, but instead of putting them on, he just threw on his favorite gray boxers and hopped on the bed, grabbing his phone from the charger while Ace applied some make up on. He scoffed and said nothing more, scrolling through his contacts while she walked out of the room. If she was gonna be a Pissy Penny then he had nothing to say to her.

tumblr_m98ue89E521ql477co1_500_large.png
 
Ace was confused.


Marce had accused her of fighting with him. She was honestly confused until she realized what his problem was. Apparently getting what he had been whining about not getting all this time was an issue for him. He didn't seem to grasp the concept yet. Well, he'd understand it soon, one way or the other. If he wanted to assume she was pissed off about.. what was she supposed to be angry about again? Kissing him? Yeah, that was likely.


Men are fucking idiots.


Not her problem.


She shook her head a little, tugging on her shoes and lacing them up. Afterward, she got up and went over to the counter to pick up the file of paperwork. She glanced down the hallway and saw that Marce was just lounging around on his bed instead of getting dressed. And women were bad? She shook her head a little and sat back on the couch, her heels against the edge of the cushion so that her knees were propped up in front of her. Leaning the folder back against her thighs, she flipped through and drew out what she'd need. The device she gave Marce was plenty good enough, but if she was supposed to be showing other people, they'd need more than one copy.


The unmistakable sound of a cell phone made her look at the box she had gotten from Arch. She cocked an eyebrow and leaned over, reaching in and pulling out the device. A glance at the screen told her who it was, though there hadn't been a question since only one person had the number to this particular phone.


"I thought I told you not to call me when I'm at work," she said as soon as she answered the call. Her tone, however, was amused. After listening for a long minute, she sighed and went back to sorting through her paperwork as she tucked the phone between her ear and shoulder.


"Uh huh.. yeah.. Really? When?.. I see.." she murmured, listening intently as she pulled out the last of the papers that she would need and set the others aside. After another minute of silence, she rolled her eyes and tucked the not-needed papers back in the box.


"I'll let you know," she said simply, then ended the call and tucked the phone in one of her many pockets near her other one. She picked up the necessary papers and folded them in half, then rolled them and tucked them into another pocket where they stuck out about an inch. Now she just had to wait for the prima donna to get his ass in gear.
 
Marce sent the last text message with nothing less of a smile. He felt back in gear, and that was saying something. Even though some crazy mess went down in the past 4 days, he felt like he wasn't doing his job as an op. Before he saved Ace, he had priorities and anger problems, the two going hand in hand. Merenzo's was the murmur in every cubicle of the Bureau, and every time he heard it, he flinched. His adrenaline spiked every time he dropped out of the c-130, trying desperately to save the Kelly that was bounced from place to place. In short, a little time out of the copter was making him feel antsy for a thrill. The adrenaline had been a familiar friend during that time. He missed her sweet caress.

He also had to bear in mind that Ace was distracting him from his duties more than helping, with that not being entirely her fault. Marce was a softy in the inside, whether she figured it out yet, and a softy never did well with women. He could deal with Alex's stubbornness since it was not as brutal as Ace's. He fought along side her in some crazy battles and a list of long missions, but never once was she ever distracting. Half of that fact was because Bryson was too busy trying to confess his love for her in all of his asshole ways.

Marce got up from the bed, tossing the phone on his neatly folded pair of dark denims, reaching up to pull a dark green polo over his head. He replaced Alex in his mind, shoving in Ace where he thought back on the many missions he had been on. She was there, smirking at him and killing people on his own accord. All while looking incredibly sexy.

A distraction well minded.

The phone on his pants buzzed again with another text from Bryson, but he assumed it only said the letter 'K'. That was his trademark. Instead, Marce slipped into his denim's, buttoned the snug waistline part of it nicely, and shook his head, messing up the neatly combed hair he worked on. Ace was just now hanging up the phone when he walked into the living room, grabbing the keys off of the floor from last night. Last night when he kissed her. Last night where they shared something other than sarcasm. He took one glance at her face and the memory shattered. She was pissed.

"Uh oh. I take it that whoever was on that phone delivered some bad news?"he asked, crooking his head to the front door and walking out of it, taking great care to lock the door. They were going to be gone for a while, so everything in there had to be safe. He silently thanked the BAD for installing the inner camera in the front door, triggered to blare an alarm when the door was forced open and record whatever the burglar was doing.

"Good news. Bob isn't going to fire me for being late. The most he'll do is curse me out, but that's nothing new. Bryson and Alex are already there so once we hit the building, we go in, take in our ass whopping, and get the hell to the airport. Alright?"
 
"No, actually. It was neutral news. Expected, not leaning to one side or the other. It barely warranted a phone call, but it's good to know none-the-less," Ace replied, musing as she stood and walked out the door after him. She ensured that the rolled up papers were still in her pocket, then watched him lock the door. After, she followed him down toward the car as he told her what to expect for the morning.

"Alright."

She wasn't worried about Bob, or the other two. None of them mattered anyway. They did their jobs and did them well. She was just there to point them in the right direction until they found all of the girls. It really shouldn't be too hard. In some ways, she wondered why Marce even kept her around now that he knew where every girl was. Pointless. She never could accuse him of being logical.

"Are we eating breakfast at the airport?" she asked, seemingly randomly as she opened up her car door and slid inside to settle and buckle her seatbelt.
 
"Unfortunately, and not because I want a poorly made hot cake. I don't want a rerun of what happened Tuesday happening again. BAD's got cameras all over this parking lot to see if we may have been spotted and followed from the inside. I just don't want to screw up anyone's enjoyable breakfast at Hardee's." Marce backed the car out of the lot and drove off down the streets of Georgia. This time, he turned on the radio to a station that played the same Pop songs over and over again. He was careful to keep it at a decent volume, not wanting her to think he was trying to eliminate conversation.

"What kind of news was it? I always think news can only be good or bad. To me, there is no neu--"

"WANT YOU TO MAKE ME FEEL! LIKE IM THE ONLY GIRL IN THE WORLD! LIKE I'M ON THE ONLY ONE THAT YOU'D EVERY LOVE! LIKE I'M THE ONLY ONE THAT KNOWS YOUR HE--"

"Shit,"he seethed, turning the station to 93.3, The Planet. It was the station that played all of his Alternative hits, even throwing in a Rock classic just to toss him off guard. At the moment, Bon Jovi was wailing about Gina working a diner all day. Marce drummed his fingers on his steering wheel to the beat of the song, taking his chances in going through a yellow light by accelerating.

"If you can't make it until we hit the airport, let me know. Don't want the BAD thinking I'm starving you." He looked over to her and gave her a blue-eyed wink and a small. Hopefully Ace didn't hold grudges. If she did, it was going to be one hell of a trip.

"Take my hand, and we'll make it I swear~"
 
Before Ace could respond and tell Marce what sort of news could be neutral, he was cursing at the radio and flicking the dial. She watched him with a faint amusement, tempted to duct tape him to a lawn chair and leave him in the middle of a Nicki Minaj concert. The more she thought about it, the more tempted she was. He would be screaming curses at her, she bet.


Hmm..


Her attention focused back on him as he mentioned starving. She cocked an eyebrow and said nothing at first, listening to the song and the very strange occurance of him singing along. Jovi fan. No surprise there.


"I severely doubt that you would get anything but a pat on the back for starving a criminal," she commented quietly, then shrugged slightly.


"It was just news of the Merenzo base moving. Expected. It doesn't really matter since I know every building that they own in the city and where they've moved to. Honestly, it was a waste of a call. Arch should know better," she added before falling silent.


'You live for the fight when that's all that you've got..'


The line struck her suddenly and she glanced at Marce before looking away.


Good thing this song was almost over.
 
The streets were cleared because they were driving so early in the morning. If it had been the afternoon, they would have probably been stuck on Main Street for a good 35 minutes. Accidents seemed to happen everyday on Main Street, even worse so for I20. Marce tended to stay away from the two unless he was traveling really early or really late. Marce continued to sing even though Jovi decided to up the key a notch. Marce managed to get his voice up there, singing in sync with the man while continuously tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. He was still thinking about what Ace said about the base, but bothering her about it could wait until they got to the Bureau, which was no more than 5 minutes away.

Besides, once Arch was mentioned, the grip on the steering wheel turned white-knuckled. It wasn't that he was...jealous of the guy. No. Marce out did him in looks by 0-1,000,00, easy. He just still had trouble lowering his defenses when it came to Ace. Yeah, she was a big girl and could take care of herself, but Marce was Marce. He hummed the last 2 repeats of the chorus and slid his eyes over to her.

She was looking directly at him. It was the most terrifying second of his life.

"You have an idea, don't you? No. Whatever it is, no." He said, thinking long and hard about the last idea Ace had gotten. It wasn't comfortable for him or his manhood, he reminded himself. Marce flinched and took a left on Peachtree Street, seeing the Bureau building loom closer and closer to the two as David Bowie sung about dancing in red shoes.

The color red set him on edge.
 
Ace could not help but grin at his tone, words, and the way that he was gripping the steering wheel as if it might protect him from being ordered back to the mall.


"You are a very paranoid man, Marce Jove," she informed him lightly.


She settled back in her seat as the song changed, her amusement remaining firmly in place as she listened to Tommy Tutone sing one of her favorites. That poor girl. How many guys had dialed her up just because they got bored in the potty and started reading the shit people wrote down in a fit of vengeance?


Her phone ringing interrupted her thoughts, and she glanced down. That particular ringtone.. She sighed. Again? Really?


"What?" she answered, her tone very clearly exasperated as she held the phone against her right ear and frowned to herself. How dare Arch interrupt this song. She was going to snap at him more, but then he started to babble and she found herself listening intently for several moments.


"WHAT?! Stop the car!"
 
You must log in or register to reply here.
Top Bottom
Back