Poiche Li Amo 
Part Two
see part one for disclaimers

____________________________

My fingers danced lightly across his beautifully angular face, 
tracing his jaw line tenderly.  He kissed my fingertips as they 
stroked across his lips.  I afforded myself a long, lingering look 
into his eyes and then moved on, down his collarbones.  I teased 
his nipples to hard nubs, then glided my hands across the rest of 
his chest which now glistened with sweat from his exertions.

I could see the supreme effort that he was exercising not to slam 
into me hard and fast and I could feel my own orgasm building 
within.  I reached up and dragged his head down, bringing his lips 
to mine, and kissed him fiercely. "Oh, Alex," I gasped as I 
reluctantly released his lips, "I love you.  God help me, I do." 
And I thrust my hips up hard, rising to meet his gentle stroke 
with insistent force.  Instantly comprehending my need, he picked 
up his pace.  

I couldn't contain my cries as the pleasure built in a great 
crescendo up my spine and into the pit of my quivering stomach.  
His moans became a steady hum as his strokes came harder and 
faster.  His hands gripped my hips so tightly that I would surely 
bear ten small bruises in the pattern of his fingers as he plunged 
into me again and again. 

It was as if his orgasm was small fish wriggling deep inside me 
and he was working to spear it. I felt his cock twitch and a 
gentle wave broke over me in a warm wash of pleasure. I buried my 
face in his neck, my open lips on his throat in a salty kiss as my 
orgasm peaked.  He collapsed beside me, both of us panting and 
sated.  I snuggled against him, lay my head on his chest and 
listened to his heartbeat return to normal.

Long moments later, he spoke.  

"Marley?" he began, his voice rumbling deep in his chest, tickling 
my ears.

"Mmmmm?" I mumbled, placing a lazy kiss on his stomach, next to 
where my head lay.

"Do you skate?" he asked.

"Skate?" I responded brilliantly with a small mirthful snort, the 
question catching me completely by surprise.

"Yeah, skate," he responded with that cocky smile of his that I 
heard rather than saw, "you know...ice, blades, music.  Skate."

"Yeah, I know what skating is," I said, jabbing him playfully in 
the ribs. "Why do you ask?"

"Do I need a reason?" he countered innocently, but his eyes gave 
off an impish glint.

"No," I admitted, "but you usually have one. In answer to your 
question, yes, in fact, I can skate."  

"How about a trip to Rockefeller Center?" he asked with a roguish 
smile.  He had a reason, alright.  

"I have to assume that your motives run deeper than a desire to 
put me in a situation where I might be likely to fall into your 
arms so you can grope me in public," I speculated. 

"That's a great idea, but I somehow doubt that you need me to 
catch you," he said simply. "But, if you give me the opportunity, 
I most certainly will." He finished with the most devilish look 
and I considered instigating a second round.  

"Come on," he said, looking surreptitiously at his watch, "we can 
grab something to eat on the way."  He quirked an eyebrow in a 
well-practiced leer, "I seem to be famished for some reason and I 
really need to keep up my strength."  The comment was followed by 
a wink as he bussed me soundly and rose, gloriously naked, from 
the bed.  He walked to his duffle which was spilling out across 
one of two wing-backed arm chairs situated on either side of a 
table in the corner and began dressing.  

I grabbed my duffle and retreated to the bathroom.  I completed my 
morning ablutions quickly and pulled on jeans and a casual 
sweater.  I quickly secured my long hair in its customary braid 
and pulled on a pair of comfortable running shoes.  I smoothed on 
a thin layer of moisturizer with sunscreen but applied no make-up.  

Looking and feeling fresh, I exited the bathroom to find Alex 
replacing a Palm Pilot in his bag and checking his watch again.  
He was dressed in a dark green Henley with a thermal t-shirt 
underneath, the sleeves pushed up to his elbows revealing the 
silky dark hair on his forearms. He also wore jeans, but rather 
than tennis shoes, he wore a pair of well-worn combat boots. 

As if sensing my presence, he turned when I entered the room.  I 
watched his eye sweep me with an unabashed assessment.  Apparently 
I passed inspection, because he grabbed my leather jacket off the 
other chair where it had been tossed at some point the night 
before, and helped me into it.  Then grabbing his own jacket, he 
held the door for me.  "After you," he said smoothly with a small 
bow.  As I passed, he patted my behind.  "'Wholesome' suits you," 
he said softly as he followed me out into the hallway and let the 
door shut behind him.

*~*~*

My nose was frozen and I wished that I had a scarf for my ears and 
neck.  I had completed my third lazy circuit around the rink and I 
was starting to worry.  Alex had been covertly checking his watch 
every twenty minutes since we stopped at the bakery for croissants 
and coffee, and he'd been gone just long enough to make all the 
alarms go off in my head.  I carefully scanned the perimeter as I 
skated toward the opening in the plexiglas retaining wall that 
surrounded the ice.  I saw Alex disappear at the isolated end of a 
long row of lockers that radiated out from the ice like spokes on 
a bicycle tire.  

I made my way to one of the lacquered wooden benches, sat down and 
began to unlace my skates.  Once free of them, I slid my feet into 
my shoes and headed in the general direction of where I'd last 
seen him.  It felt as if I were walking several inches above the 
ground as my feet acclimated to being out of the skates, making 
each step awkward for a few moments. The area was deeply deserted 
and I attuned my senses to Alex.

Out of long habit, I moved silently and soon heard his voice drift 
softly to me from somewhere ahead of me to the left.  "...we had a 
deal, now where the fuck is my merchandise?"

A male voice answered, "I know that was the plan, but a former 
employer of yours is offering a sizable bounty on your head - dead 
or alive.  Now, I figure that I can collect the bounty on you dead 
a lot easier than alive, and I get to keep the money you brought 
me for this disk."  

I had reached the end of the bank of lockers and saw a short, 
blonde man pointing a gun at Alex with his right hand while he 
waved a small CD in his left. The blonde man's back was to me as I 
soundlessly closed the distance between us.  Alex's eyes made 
transitory contact with mine conveying his understanding of my 
intentions and his readiness to back me, without alerting the 
perfidious little grifter to my presence. 

My body tensed, preparing for battle, waiting to see what his next 
move would be.  I saw his thumb move to the hammer, making ready 
to cock it.  That was all the display of intent that I needed. I 
poised my hands and in a single swift motion, grabbed his left ear 
with my right hand and his right ear with my left hand and twisted 
hard.  A distinct crunching announced the breaking bones.  His 
eyes went wide with surprise.  A soft gurgling sound accompanied 
his last exhale and his body went limp, collapsing even as I held 
his head in my hands.  

Alex sprang forward, helping me to support the man's body as it 
began to slump to the floor.  Together we maneuvered him into one 
of a long row of plastic seats that ran the length of the bank of 
lockers. I snatched the disk from his hand as Alex rifled his 
pockets and came away with a gold money clip fat with bills and 
stuffed it into his own pocket.  A uniformed security guard passed 
the aisle formed by the lockers at the far end from where we stood 
and we knew that we didn't have much time before the body was 
discovered.

We moved two spokes in the opposite direction as the guard and 
moved up that aisle toward the ice again.  We collected our skates 
and headed for the counter to return them, lazy arms around each 
other.  Once there, we stood waiting as the clerk counted out 
money into Alex's hand, returning his deposit minus the cost of 
the rentals.  A commotion rose in the general direction of our 
last location and we knew that the body had been found.  The 
clerk, his task complete paid no attention to either of us.  He 
was far more interested in the hullabaloo that we had created.  
Slipping the money into his pocket, Alex thanked him quietly and 
wrapped his arm around me.  He guided me unhurriedly toward the 
door as the rest of the place moved in the other direction to 
confirm the rumor of a corpse that was spreading like wildfire.  
We left the rink unnoticed at a leisurely pace and hailed a cab 
right outside the door.

"And you were going to let me in on this... when?" I asked with a 
quirk of an eyebrow once we were safely on the road. 

For a moment, Alex looked for all the world like a small boy who'd 
been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.  He regained his 
composure quickly, then he flashed me the devil's own smile and 
said cannily, "Marley, Marley, I always intended to cut you in."

"Oh, but of course you did dear," I said snidely, thoroughly 
pissed off. "That's why you invited me, right?  You wanted to 
share what that man had to give you?  Well Alex, he nearly gave 
you the business end of a silenced 9mm.  If you plan on 'sharing' 
shit like that in the future, I must insist that you alert me in 
advance."  I turned to face the window, effectively shutting him 
out, mentally kicking myself for letting my emotional guard down.

He placed a hand on my shoulder, gently turning me to face him. 
"Marley, I'm sorry," he said sincerely.  "You know my solitary 
nature."  He released my shoulder and spread his hands in front of 
him as if to say, "This is who I am.  I can be no other."  
Instead, he looked out the window and said, "Right here, driver."

Alex paid the driver with the bills he'd taken from his potential 
assassin.  We quit the vehicle and walked about three completely 
deserted blocks where Alex hailed another cab.  He handed me 
inside the car, patting my ass in passing, then climbed in behind 
me.  

After giving the driver the name of our hotel, he leaned back in 
the seat and scrutinized me with shrewd eyes as if accessing my 
deepest thoughts and feelings with preternatural vision.  A part 
of me wondered if he might actually be able to do it and I clamped 
down on the panicky feeling that thought had aroused.  

"Alright, Alex," I steeled my gaze and demanded, "I want the 
details.  Now."

For the remaining journey, he proceeded to fill me in on as much 
as he knew.  The disk we'd just procured was a password decryption 
program intended to gain entry into the personal laptop of one 
Kendall J. Parker, PhD.  Judging from his photo, he seemed a 
bookish looking man of about 40.  Apparently Parker worked in R&D 
for a low-profile biotechnology company with classified 
shareholders and some unnervingly advanced science.  Someone 
wanted specific files and was willing to pay quite well, if what 
Alex told me was true.

The other boot dropped when we got back to the hotel.

"Marley, I can't get close to him like you can."  He dropped his 
eyes and his meaning became clear. "He will be attending a party 
at 8 o'clock this evening at the home of Senator Roberts.  I have 
access to the guest list and will see that you're added to it.  I 
need you to get into his hotel room and to copy all the files in 
the folder labeled 'wake-up_call'.  I'll share the profits 50/50."

"You want me to whore for you, to bed him for it?" I asked quietly 
seething, my voice thick with accusation.

"I'm not telling you to fuck him," he snapped, still refusing to 
make eye contact, "but you can get him alone in a way that I 
can't.  What happens when you do is entirely your business."  A 
chill settled over the room.  Unspoken in the air hung, "I know 
you'll have to fuck him, but I don't want you to."

"I'll get your information, Alex," I said with unshed tears 
shining in my eyes.  "But, we'll discuss my cut when I have what 
you want."  I turned and strode to the bathroom, closing the door 
softly behind me.  I had a good cry in the shower, letting all the 
fear and hope and anguish pour out.  When I'd finished in the 
shower, I walked into the room, to find that he'd gone.  Fighting 
back a fresh wave of tears, I went about getting dressed and ready 
for the party.

*~*~*

I put on my work clothes.  From my duffle I pulled my all-purpose 
little black dress; versatile enough to wear to funeral or night 
club and made from the most forgiving material that was always 
ready to unroll and wear. I slipped it over my head with no other 
accessories than a pair of simple black 'come fuck-me' pumps.  

I twisted my hair up into a chignon and fixed my face, taking 
special time with my still puffy eyes. Next came the accoutrements 
of the trade.  I strapped a nylon fiber knife to my inner thigh 
where I normally carried my gun.  I knew that the senator's party 
would likely have metal detectors, yet I didn't think it prudent 
to go unarmed.   

From my bag, I pulled a small wooden box and retrieved from it a 
silver Claddagh ring.  The ring featured two hands holding a 
crowned heart between them.  The heart concealed a hollow space 
about the size of two stacked aspirin.  As I slipped it on my 
right hand, with the heart facing out I thought of the story of 
the rings.  

An Irishman in the 17th century was kidnapped by Mediterranean 
pirates and sold to a Moorish goldsmith. Over his years of 
captivity, he became a master craftsman and when he gained his 
freedom and returned home, he learned that his true love had 
waited faithfully for his return.  He was so moved by her 
devotion, that he crafted a ring for her with two hands which 
symbolized their friendship, a crown representing fidelity and 
loyalty, and the heart which was their eternal love.  

Irish tradition holds that wearing the ring as I was, on the right 
hand with the heart pointing outward, shows that the wearer is 
unattached.  But should the crown and heart face the other way, it 
means that a love is being considered.  However, to place the ring 
on the left hand with the heart pointing toward one's own heart 
signifies that the wearer has found true love and is no longer 
available.

Lovely story, but I had bought the ring for its hidden 
compartment. I emptied two chloral hydrate capsules inside and 
sealed it.  I completed my ensemble with a small black leather 
clutch bag that matched the shoes.  I collected my compact flash 
card reader and a 128MB disk and stuffed them into the purse along 
with my other small necessities like cash and credit cards.  

I noticed that Alex had left one of the cardkeys to the room on a 
small lighted table close to the door.  I tucked it into the 
handbag as well and had a last look at myself in the glass.  Apart 
from a slight sadness in my eyes that I thought never really went 
away, I was presentable and I headed to the lobby to catch a cab 
to the senator's party.

After passing through the expected metal detector, I walked in the 
front door and gave up my wrap to an invisible man who asked for 
it. A similarly invisible woman passed with a tray filled with 
glasses of wine. I selected a glass of the red as I scanned the 
room for Parker. I spotted him among a sizable group of men, 
nodding quietly while one portly, gregarious man seemed to be 
holding court over the others. 

I moved across the room closer to where he laughed politely at the 
fat man's jokes and observed him, sizing him up.  He was tall and 
not unattractive.  He seemed to be in his early 40s with sandy 
brown hair and very studiously styled glasses.  He had a nice 
smile and I was relieved.  At least if I had to fuck him, it 
wouldn't be too much of a burden. I thought about Alex; about the 
fire in his eyes and his angry  conjecture that if I wound up in a 
hotel room with Kendall Parker and had to use my body to keep my 
cover it was strictly my choice.  

My thoughts were brought abruptly back to Mr. Parker when I saw 
him looking right at me.  Completely startled and somewhat 
flustered, I took a casual sip of my wine, suddenly in desperate 
need of some business for my hands.  I quickly recovered my 
equilibrium and scolded myself harshly.  Daydreaming about Alex 
Krycek was going to get me killed one day!  I made eye contact and 
smiled as fetchingly as I knew how with what I hoped was a 'come 
hither' look as opposed to the 'deer in the headlights' sort.   

I suppose it worked because I saw him unobtrusively excuse himself 
and he was now walking toward me with a predatory look in his eye. 
I had another big swallow of the wine, grateful that it was a 
expensively dry vintage.  I felt its warmth radiate to my limbs 
and I relaxed just a bit.  He was close now, formulating his pick-
up line.  His hand poised to take mine and I offered it.  "I'm Ken 
Parker," came his opening volley. 

"Marley," I reciprocated.  He took my hand and brushed my knuckles 
lightly with his lips.  I smiled again and he motioned to a semi-
secluded table.  I complied and we sat together, flirting.  I 
wished we could just cut to the chase, but it would seem rather 
forward for me to just jump to the "let's go to your place" step 
so early in the dance.  The guy wasn't homely enough to just be 
thrilled to get laid and not question the windfall.

So, we sat across from each other, his hand lightly clasping mine 
and went through the motions of seduction.  He was good.  He 
complimented not only my beauty, but my wit and if I'd been less 
preoccupied with a certain tall, green-eyed rogue I might well 
have been impressed. As it was, I played along, seeming to succumb 
to his charms.  

His hands became freer as I complied with his intentions and soon 
he was practically mauling me with a fairly convincing fervor.  
Twice his hands strayed dangerously close to the knife strapped 
inside my thigh, but finally, he asked me if I would care to join 
him for a nightcap at his hotel.  I indicated my willingness and 
in no time at all we were making out in the cab on the way to his 
hotel.

*~*~*

"I'd like a drink.  How about you?" I asked quickly as we entered 
his room.  It was a large, richly appointed suite with a sitting 
area apart from the bedroom, which I was in no hurry to explore.  
The purpose of my question was two-fold.  I not only wanted his 
ardor to cool, but I needed something in which to dissolve the 
chloral hydrate.

"Bourbon. Neat," he requested as I headed for the mini-bar.  

Reaching into the tiny refrigerator, I selected two tiny bottles 
of Maker's Mark. Since I found no Southern Comfort, I grabbed a 
couple of equally petite bottles of Stolichnaya.  I found a can of 
orange juice and settled for a screwdriver.  

"Oops," I said coquettishly, "I need some ice.  Would you mind?"
I punctuated my request by handing him the ice bucket. He took it 
and headed out the door after taking a kiss.  Retrieving two 
glasses from the top of the mini-bar, I uncapped the bottle and 
quickly dumped the sedative powder in the ring into the amber 
liquid.  I emptied the bottles into the glass and swirled it 
around a couple of times to promote the powder's quick 
dissolution, making sure that the liquor didn't seem unusually 
cloudy.  Just then, he reentered with the ice and I took the 
bucket from him while simultaneously giving him the drugged drink.  

Plunking a small handful of the round, hollow crystals into my 
glass, I poured the vodka over them and filled the tumbler the 
rest of the way with the juice.  I finished making my screwdriver 
and joined him on the sofa, frankly amazed that he was still 
conscious.  

The taste of the bourbon was unpleasant when he plunged his tongue 
into my mouth in a sloppy kiss and kneaded my left breast, but I 
feigned enthusiasm.  I kept breaking contact to take tiny sips of 
my drink, nursing it, wishing that the mickey would hurry and kick 
in.  Unfortunately, the drinks were gone in short order and I was 
quickly running out of avoidances.  

I loosed the button on his slacks and he slouched down, spreading 
his knees. He fully expected a blowjob and I silently cursed Alex 
Krycek with my whole heart.  I started out slowly, running my hand 
inside his silk boxers and pulling his semi-erect member from 
inside.  His cock twitched in my hand and grew quickly, fully 
erect.  His right hand had already slid up to the back of my head, 
pushing, as I stroked him with my hand. 

Thankfully, his hand slid slowly down my back to flop motionless 
on the sofa and he began to soften just as I heard a gentle 
snoring.  Finally.  The chloral hydrate had taken effect.  I moved 
from beneath his arm and left him, sitting spread eagled and 
exposed, on the sofa as I went exploring.

I began a thorough search of his room.  I found a locked laptop 
case and rifled Parker's pockets for his keys.  Once I found them, 
it wasn't a tough guess which key fit.  I retrieved my purse, then 
inserted the disk I took from Alex's assailant into the proper 
drive and powered up the system.  I finished my drink and fixed 
myself another one while the machine went through its paces.  But 
once it had booted, the password had been negated and I went 
straight to the file list, searching for the folder named 'wake-
up_call'.  

The computer quickly found the folder and I inserted the small 
portable drive I'd brought into the USB port.  I highlighted all 
the files and clicked on the icon that would copy them onto the 
tiny disk.  As the files were being copied, I heard a nearly 
imperceptible click in the vicinity of the door.  I held my breath 
as the lever style handle slowly twisted downward.

*~*~*

Before my heart could even start beating again, I moved silently 
and swiftly to flatten myself against the wall next to the opening 
door.  I unsheathed my knife and waited, poised to take out 
whoever came through it.  

The first thing I saw was a tuxedoed arm with a masculine hand at 
the end of it, gripping the handle.  I seized the arm just under 
the elbow and pulled, putting my weight into it.  The man moved 
forward into the room as I swept his feet out from under him 
landing him on his hands and knees just inside the door of the 
room.  I threw my leg over the surprised intruder as if mounting a 
horse and grabbing a handful of hair, bared the throat as I 
prepared to slit it open. "Marley!" came a familiar, albeit 
stressed out voice.

"Goddamn it, Alex!" I released him quickly and sheathed my knife 
before the temptation to slit his throat anyway for the scare he'd 
given me won out. "What the *fuck* are you doing here!?"  I was 
exasperated and completely baffled.  The hairs on the back of my 
neck stood up as I considered the possibility that he had come to 
kill me to save money on the deal. 

He looked distinctly discomfited and I was seized with the 
strangest feeling that he would have been prepared to explain his 
presence, without falling over his words, had he come to kill me. 
"I - uh, I was - I thought you might need back-up," he explained 
as he climbed to his feet, straightening his black on black Armani 
tux.

Tux?  Then it registered, he was formally dressed, as were all the 
men at the senator's party. "You followed me," I deduced.  "Why, 
Alex?  Did you not trust me to come back with the merchandise?" I 
asked, about to be truly and deeply offended.

"That's not why..." he began, but just then, he walked around the 
couch finding Parker, completely senseless. A dark cloud seemed to 
pass very quickly across his face, "I came to save your virtue," 
he sneered, "but it looks like you had things well in hand."  He 
cast a pointed glance at the sleeping man's conspicuously exposed 
crotch.

"And just what the fuck did you expect me to *do* when you asked 
me to 'get close to him', play Yahtzee?" I said in a low, tightly 
controlled voice that dripped with murderous rage.  "Don't you 
dare stand there and pretend to be morally superior to me, 
Aleksandr Vassily Krycek! I know what *you're* capable of and 
using your body to get what you want isn't even the tip of that 
iceberg." 

Unable to hold them back any longer, angry tears finally spilt 
down my burning cheeks.  I turned my back on him, toward the 
computer which had long since finished copying files.  With a few 
quick clicks and keystrokes, I removed the disk and drive from his 
computer and stuffed them back into my hand bag. I picked up my 
drink glass and wiped my lip and fingerprints from it.  I 
continued around the room doing the same to everything I had 
touched since I arrived.  I double checked a list in my head to 
make sure that I'd gotten them all, then turned to leave.

*~*~*