Title: It's Got to Be You Author: Jennifer Fandom: Once a Thief Pairing: Vic/Mac Rating: err...R? Archive: If anyone wants this and it's prequel, just holler. Feedback: yes, it helps me sleep. gemvir@execulink.com Sequel to "Don't Forget Me When I'm Gone" (OAT/XF), but it works alone. If you missed it, ask and you shall receive. Disclaimers: Not mine. If I only owned Alliance... Notes: Thanks again to Amy and Nicole for the awesome beta job. It’s Got to Be You I could kill myself. No, I *should* kill myself. Or better yet, I’ll have Mac pull the trigger himself. I can’t believe I cheated on Mac with a complete stranger in an alley. I feel as dirty as that alley was. How am I going to explain it to Mac when I don’t even know why I did it? I must’ve been out of my mind. I forced my hand down the guy’s pants, for Christ’s sake! Face it, Victor. You screwed up. Big time. I should just leave this apartment and never come back. But there are two problems with that idea. One, I work for a secret government agency that could track me down past the far reaches of Antarctica. And two, Mac also works for that government agency so I’d have to explain both the cheating *and* my sudden disappearance. And...did I say there were three things? Well, I love Mac. Pure and simple. I can’t leave the only man I’ve ever truly loved, yet I don’t know if I can face him when he walks through that door. 6:45 PM. Mac’s plane arrives in about an hour. That gives me about two hours to straighten myself out. I’ve been wearing the same outfit for days now. I smell and look as rotten as I feel. Sweat and shame makes a lovely fragrance. I should call Calvin Klein with the recipe. I could make millions. I stagger off the couch and into the bathroom. A nice hot shower will clean off the day old--or is week old?--sweat clinging to my body. I can’t remember the last time I bothered with washing. I called the Director the morning after the *incident* and informed her I was taking some time off. She didn’t like that very much, especially with Mac away, but I told her to deal with it. I can handle the wrath of the Director. It’s the pain in Mac’s eyes that I won’t be able to take. It’s funny how my body has dealt with my lack of interest. I’ve tried masturbating to thoughts of Mac, but my cock lies limp. It’s like I’m being punished by my own body. The same body that reacted so strongly to the stranger’s touch six days ago. Or is my body as ashamed as I am? As I drown out these thoughts under the hot spray of the shower, I try touching myself again. My cock jumps a little at my soft but steady strokes, but remains limp. I give up. I don’t need any more heartache. I quickly finish my shower, shave, and walk naked into my--our--bedroom. I put on a faded pair of jeans and Mac’s favourite green shirt of mine. So much for meeting him in the nude. Now comes the hard part--more waiting. What to do? Well, I’m already pacing. I could keep walking out the front door. But I owe Mac an explanation. If he throws me out, then so be it. God. I’m so stupid! It’ll be tough, but what else should I expect for cheating on him? ***An hour later*** “Vic! I’m home. Where are you?” “In the bedroom.” Mac’s face immediately comes to mind when I hear his adorable voice. His smile can easily outshine any light in a room especially when he’s aroused. I can hear Mac talking as he walks through the apartment. “...believe the traffic. And the plane! I was sitting next to this grandma who had her whole collection of family photos with her. She just *had* to show me twenty shots of her newest grandkid. I swear if I wasn’t so nice, I would’ve swatted her with my in-flight magazine!” When Mac appears at the door, I literally pounce. You know the saying ‘treat each day like it’s your last?’ Today feels like death row came a-knocking. I’m scared, but hopeful. Maybe I’ll be granted a pardon. “Welcome home, baby. I missed you so much. How was Vancouver?” I kiss my way up Mac’s neck to devour his mouth. I don’t stop until breathing becomes a necessity. “Ohh...I should go away more often. That was yummy. Do that again.” We kiss and grope our way to the bed. Mac pushes me down as he nibbles at my earlobe. I groan when his hand rubs at my crotch. Then he stops and looks at me. I realize I’m not hard. I give a slight shrug of my shoulders and smile sheepishly. Mac knows something is wrong. I watch as his eyes soften in concern. “Vic, what’s wrong?” “Mac, I...umm..sit down. Something happened last week....” I take a couple quick breaths, preparing myself for the confession of a lifetime. He practically collapses on the bed. “What? To who? Is Li Ann all right?” “She’s fine. Everyone’s fine. Well, except me.” Mac sits there searching my face for any signs of bruised or broken body parts. “You look okay. In fact, I’d say you’re gorgeous...” He reaches to pull me into another kiss. I put my hand up to push him away. “Mac, please...stop. This isn’t easy. While you were away, I, err...was caught in a rather, umm... interesting situation.” Here goes everything. “While walking downtown, I was attacked by a man, who thought I was someone else.” I put my hand up again to stop Mac from protesting. “Wait...please. He pulled me into an alley and...umm...we had...sex. Oh Mac, I’m so sorry.” I jump off the bed, and head straight for the door. “Vic!” Mac grabs my arm and spins me around. “Did he rape you? Are you hurt? Did you report it? Why the hell didn’t you kick his ass?” The string of questions floods my brain and I shake my head furiously to get rid of them...and to shut Mac up. “No, no, no Mac. We had sex...consentual sex. I didn’t fight him...oh god.” The realization and hurt in Mac’s eyes is more than I can handle. He is also pissed. My heart is racing as I sit quietly waiting for Mac to say something--anything. “What the fuck were you thinking? Do I mean *nothing* to you? Have these past three months been a joke to you, huh Victor?” Mac’s shoulders sag in disappointment. “Is that why you’re not hard now? You’re thinking of being with him and not me?” Mac’s voice cracks. If Mac could look into my eyes, he would see the regret and love I feel right now. But instead, his gaze drifts somewhere to the left of my leg. “Mac, I’m *so* incredibly sorry. I don’t know what came over me. It felt right at the time, but now...” “Felt *right*? How does fucking a stranger in an alley feel right? You’re an asshole and I don’t want you near me. Get out!” Okay that hurt. “Mac, please...” Instead of answering my plea, Mac turns away. Without another word, I grab a pillow for my night on the couch. As I leave, my body is shaking uncontrollably and a light sob escapes from my trembling lips. I wince when Mac slams the door behind me. The worst noise though is the unmistakable click of the lock that follows. ***Next morning*** I hear the shower running a little after 7 am. I groan as I lift my cramped body off the couch. I rub my eyes and the back of my hands are damp. I wonder how red my eyes are. I stretch then head to the kitchen to make some coffee. I figure we’ll need it, if my lack of sleep gives any indication. The shower stops and so does my breath for a moment. I’m not sure what Mac will do or say, if he says or does anything at all. We meet in the living room. Mac has put on his bathrobe, which shocks me a little. We have always walked around nude. I lower my eyes, afraid to meet his glare. “Morning,” I mumble. Mac just grunts and I follow him into the bedroom. “Mac? Can we please talk about this?” “What’s to talk about?” Mac slams the drawer he’s rooting through. “You obviously don’t give two shits about me or our relationship.” “God, Mac. That’s so far from the truth. I’ve been beating myself up over this! I haven’t gone into work. I barely moved from the couch. I’ve been crazy with guilt!” “And...what Vic? You expect me to just forgive you? I can’t do that. Not now...” “Not ever?” I ask meekly. I think I see a glimmer of hope in his eyes. He shakes his head. “I don’t know, Vic. I just don’t know.” He sighs heavily and sits on the edge of the bed. “I care for you very much and it hurts to hear that you did this. On the plane, I was thinking of how happy we’ve been lately. Not fighting each other with our fists or our egos, but just having a real good time with each other. In bed or otherwise.” He grins at that. I’m sure he conjured up some wild night we had recently. I certainly did. I kneel in front of Mac, and place my hands on his knees. He flinches at the contact. I rub his thighs in gentle circles. I fight to keep his gaze. “Mac, I know nothing I say can erase what I did. I regret every minute of it. I can only hope that we can somehow work past this. I care for you deeply and I’m willing to do whatever it takes to keep our relationship as open and loving as it can be. If that means leaving this apartment---leaving you--then I can accept that.” I lower my head. I’m afraid to hear my death sentence. “Don’t leave.” It comes out less than a whisper. I jerk my head up. “Don’t leave. Please, Vic.” He rubs my cheek and bends down to give me a quick kiss on the nose. That is heaven to me. “I won’t forget this, Victor. But I’m willing to work on it...on us. I love you too much to let you go. I...” I shush him with one fingertip to his lips. “I love you too, Mac.” I smile. “What?” “Do you realize that this is the first time we’ve said ‘I love you’ to each other? I think that calls for a special celebration, don’t you?” Before Mac could answer, I lean over to place a brutal yet tender kiss on his lips. To further my point, I move my hand into the fold of his bathrobe and squeeze the unrestricted member inside. It hardens in response. “What do you say, partner?” As a response I get a mouthful of Mac’s probing tongue as he pulls me onto the bed with him. All my pent-up worry and fear becomes one strong bolt of passion as my cock hardens and presses into Mac’s thigh. “There’s the little guy I’ve waiting for.” “Hey, who you calling little?” I bite his exposed nipple and pout at Mac. He chuckles. “I only call them as I see them, babe. But I love you anyway.” “I just adore your cruel sense of humour. Can you tease me some more?” “I thought you’d never ask.” The End