accomplishment of an objective - part three

Michael re-read the line for the third time, shaking his head at his inability to focus on this article about the great deeds that Terrence Steadman did. And then he heard a small sneeze coming from across the table, and he knew why he couldn’t concentrate.

Chloe scrunched her nose and sneezed again, laughing at the sound.

“I sound like a pixie,” she said, looking at him from over her laptop screen.

Michael sighed and pushed the article aside, rubbing his eyes. Over the last week, she’d been at his apartment every night after he got home from work. She stayed late, and Michael was so exhausted, he should have been asleep within seconds of his head hitting the pillow. The problem was that he thought too much. And not about the case.

He thought about her.

About the way her eyes lit up whenever she came across something good, or the way she flailed her hands when she talked. When she smiled, her eyes crinkled at the corners, and when she was concentrating hard, they narrowed into a little squint.

It wasn’t something he wanted to admit, but he liked her. A lot. She was still holding down her regular hectic job at the Tribune, but also doing some digging about Lincoln’s case. She had sources everywhere, and she was using them. So far, nothing huge had fallen into their laps, but they were hopeful. They still had some time.

“What?” Chloe asked.

“Huh?” Michael asked, jerked out of his reverie.

“Whoa, did you just say ‘huh’? I’m impressed. Didn’t realize slang was in your vocabulary.”

“What do you mean?”

“No offense, Michael, but you’re a little...uptight,” Chloe said with a sheepish grin. “And I’m sure part of it has to do with Lincoln, but-”

“You think I’m uptight?” Michael asked, frowning.

“Well, a little.”

He regarded her coolly, and Chloe sighed and rolled her eyes.

“All right, you’re a lot uptight,” she said.

“How so?”

“Well, look at you,” Chloe said. She motioned to him with her hands. “Not once have I seen you in anything other than professional clothes. You always come home and change from your work clothes into, well, other work clothes.”

Michael glanced down at his khaki pants and white dress shirt. “You don’t like the way I dress?”

“Actually, I do. Very much. You’ve got great taste,” Chloe said, nodding. “It’s just that, I think you would loosen up a bit if you wore jeans once in awhile.”

“I have jeans.”

“I know, you’ve told me,” Chloe said flatly. “Too bad I’ve never seen them.”

She lowered her gaze to the computer screen, and Michael drummed his fingers on the table before standing up abruptly. His chair scraped against the floor, startling Chloe. Without a word, he headed for his bedroom. After a few minutes, he returned and sat down again, pulling the article about Steadman towards him.

Chloe blinked. He had changed into a pair of well-worn jeans. And a royal blue T-shirt. She couldn’t help it, she had to stare. She was seeing his arms for the first time.

The thing about Michael was that he wasn’t that built. He had a light frame and was tall, so that made him appear skinnier than he was. His arms were solid though, that much she could see, and she almost reached across the table to touch his bicep, but stopped herself by grabbing her wine glass instead. His fingers were long and slender, and right now they were gripping that newspaper article with great intensity.

Chloe felt the corners of her mouth curling up in a laugh. She ducked down behind her computer screen and placed a hand against her lips. Michael looked so uncomfortable!

He smacked the paper down and let out what Chloe could describe only as a growl, and tugged at the collar of his shirt. Chloe burst into giggles that turned into snorts and she nearly fell from her chair.

“It’s not funny!” Michael exclaimed, standing up. “I’m not used to being so, so...” His voice trailed off as he fumbled for a word.

“Casual?” Chloe supplied. She stood up as well and walked around the table, leaning against the edge. “You look good. Kinda cute even.”

Michael shook his head and stared at the ceiling. “You’re mocking me.”

“No, I’m not,” Chloe said. “You just need to relax. Here.”

She took his hand, feeling that same thrill she’d experienced when he shook her hand that first time at her desk. She pulled him towards the living room area, shoving the coffee table out of the way with her leg.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“We’re going to dance.”

“What? No,” he said, jerking away from her.

But Chloe tightened her grip and yanked him back. “Nothing wild or crazy. Just some simple dancing. It’s relaxing, trust me.”

“There’s no music.”

“We don’t need any.”

Michael gulped audibly as Chloe placed his right hand on her hip and held his left in her right.

“Now, just do what I do,” she said.

Neither of them missed the huskiness of her voice when she spoke. Michael followed her lead, catching on quickly as they waltzed around the living room. At one point, Michael even twirled her, making her laugh. He joined in, and Chloe gasped in shock.

“He can laugh!”

Feeling brave, he tickled her side and she squealed. They both became bolder in their dancing, and feeling impulsive, Michael twirled her towards him, then dipped her. They were suddenly frozen in that position, eyes fixed intently on each other’s face, mouths slightly open and their breathing a bit labored from the exertion.

Slowly, very slowly, and with each of them very aware of the sexual tension bouncing around them, Michael raised her to an upright stance. They didn’t drop their hands and move away. They just stood there. And then Chloe took a single step closer and placed her head against his chest, and he let her. They began to sway a little to music only they could hear.

It was several minutes later before they came to a stop. Chloe could feel his heart racing, and she knew hers was reacting the same way. Michael licked his dry lips and exhaled, his breath rustling strands of her hair.

“Chloe?” he asked. His voice was low, barely above a whisper.

“Yes?”

“Would it be all right,” he started, then broke off. He tried again. “Would it be all right if I kissed you?”

Chloe raised her head and the grin on her face was huge. She answered him by standing on tiptoe and encircling her arms around his neck to pull him down to her.

The kiss was hesitant at first, and Michael knew he was afraid. He hadn’t kissed a woman in a long time, and he hadn’t realized how much he missed the intimate touch. Chloe nipped at his lower lip, licked with the tip of her tongue, and explored his mouth. He felt a shudder of desire course through him, and he deepened the kiss.

Then he scooped her into his arms and carried her down the hall to his bedroom where he placed her gently on the queen-sized bed. They didn’t speak as they removed each other’s clothing. They simply went where the tide of emotions carried them.

Later, as they lay there holding each other, they watched the shadows on the ceiling cast by the city lights outside. Chloe was deliciously tired and her entire body was tingling, and Michael was noticeably less tense and smiling. He chuckled a bit, and dropped a kiss on Chloe’s collarbone.

“I hope this doesn’t complicate things,” Chloe said.

“Why would it?”

“You seemed pretty intent on accomplishing your task of getting Lincoln out of prison.”

“And I can’t continue to do that with a beautiful woman at my side?”

“You think I’m beautiful?”

Michael propped himself up on his elbow and trailed a finger lazily down the valley between her breasts. She shivered and let out a tiny gasp.

“I think you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” he said. “I know it sounds cliché, but you truly are. Ever since I met you, I’ve thought of nothing but you at night. I haven’t been getting much sleep.”

“Oh really? Fantasized about me, huh? I like that.”

“And what about you? Obviously you had some thoughts about me.”

Chloe grinned at him. “All the time. It’s hard to stay focused on one thing when there’s an intelligent, sexy man only a foot away.”

She snuggled closer and traced small circles on Michael’s chest, moving down along the sprinkling of hair on his abdomen.

“You realize we’ll have to keep this to ourselves,” he said. “So far, it’s been kept quiet that I’m Lincoln’s brother, and I never explained my relationship to anyone I talked to.”

“Except me.”

“Right. We can’t risk the wrong people finding out about us.”

“So no shouting from the rooftops that I just had amazing sex with you?”

Michael laughed. “I’m glad you enjoyed it. I haven’t done it in some time.”

“No ex-girlfriends I should worry about?”

“Not in this century.”

“How tragic.”

“Oh? And what about you, Miss Sullivan? I don’t remember hearing anything about your lovelife.”

“That’s because I don’t have one. Last boyfriend I had was in Metropolis, and before that, Smallville. I’ve never been as attracted to anyone as I am to you, Michael. It’s kind of freaking me out here. Can we be sure it’s not just an attraction based on the fact that we’re working together under extreme circumstances?”

Michael rolled her so she was on top of him, her blond hair hanging down and tickling his face.

“Maybe we should find out,” he said, and kissed her.

Chloe gladly agreed.

~*~*~

There were whispers going around the office about Michael. To his co-workers, he seemed almost happy, which was strange to them. Not that he was ever depressed, but he wasn’t one to smile much or make jokes. But for the past couple of weeks, he’d been arriving at work with a smile on his face, like he knew something they didn’t. He’d even laughed a few times, which truly threw them all off.

“Either he’s going nuts, or he’s got a woman,” they said.

If he had talked with them, they would have found out they were right on both counts. Michael felt as though he was going a little crazy, what with all the research he’d been doing on Lincoln’s case. He was in constant contact with the lawyer, Tim Giles, who was handling Lincoln’s final appeal, but he had nothing new to give him. At least, nothing that Giles felt he could use.

“I need hard evidence, Michael,” the lawyer had told him over the phone. “I need a credible witness that can testify to this conspiracy you’re looking into, or else I need concrete proof that Lincoln never fired the gun that killed Steadman.”

It was frustrating, and if he were doing this alone, he feared he would have broken a long time ago. But Chloe was always there to help him through. She was a constant source of information as well as moral support.

He couldn’t believe how fast it had happened, but he had fallen for her. Hard. It killed him that he couldn’t call her up at work or whisk her off for a romantic weekend away. She told him she didn’t mind the secrecy, but he still felt guilty. He knew how to treat a woman well, and hiding her in his apartment wasn’t how he was supposed to do it. She was putting forth such a tremendous effort to find out the truth, and he thought she deserved something more than just being with him.

Even though, overall he was happier, there was still a part of him that was terrified of the consequences if he and Chloe were unable to prove Lincoln’s innocence. He’d started having dreams about it, and he was sleeping even less than before.

One night, they were lying in his bed together asleep, when he suddenly woke up in a cold sweat. He’d had another dream about Lincoln’s execution. The prison guards taunted Michael, telling him that if he could just reach the switch before they did, he could save his brother’s life. No matter how fast Michael tried to run, he couldn’t get to it, and the guards just laughed and laughed. It was the look of extreme desolation on Lincoln’s face that woke him up.

“What’s wrong?” Chloe asked, wiping sleep from her eyes. “Nightmare?”

Michael nodded and scrubbed his hands over his face. “Horrible. I couldn’t save him.”

“We’re going to save him, we are,” Chloe said. She rubbed his back in a soothing gesture.

“We’re running out of time.”

Pushing back the blankets, he got out of bed and pulled on a pair of jeans. He’d taken to wearing jeans at home now, and Chloe could barely keep her hands off him. She followed him out the living room where he stopped at the wall.

“The police are no help,” he said. “The lawyer doesn’t think anything we have proves a conspiracy.”

“We just haven’t found the right person yet. I’m still tracking down Leticia Barris. I’m positive she knows something, being Crab Simmons’ girlfriend. We know she met Lincoln.”

“She’s in hiding. We won’t find her soon enough.”

“You’ve turned into Mr. Negativity,” Chloe quipped.

Michael swiped at the sweat on his forehead. “I think we need a backup. If the appeal is denied, we’re going to have to figure out some other way to have the execution stopped.”

“You can always take your case to the governor. He may be sympathetic enough to listen, especially since Lincoln’s called in Bishop McMorrow for help. The governor and the Bishop went to prep school together.”

“There’s no guarantee it would work.”

Chloe glanced at him sideways, saw that he was actually shaking with fatigue and ordered him to sit down.

“You’re exhausted,” she said, pushing him onto the sofa. “You’re not sleeping, and I know you’re not eating as well as you should be.”

“I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not. Don’t lie to me, Michael. You’re not very good at it.”

The fight seemed to leave him in a breath, as his shoulders sagged and he hugged her waist, putting his head against her belly.

“I can’t fail, Chloe. I can’t let him down.”

“You won’t. We won’t.”

But even as she said it, the doubt crept into her mind just a little more.

Michael stared at the wall, unblinking while Chloe held him. As his eyes darted over each piece of information that hung there, his mind started to form a backup plan. The more he thought about it, the more he truly thought he was going crazy.

~end Part Three

onto Part Four