Sad_Girl
Blue Crack Supplier
Disclaimer: Fake. Pretend. FICTIONAL
Chapter Two: Wild Gypsy Rose Part 3
Cat shuffled into the common room, still blinking the sleep from her eyes, to find several people gathered around a lap top computer on the table.
“Isn’t it a little early to be looking at internet porn?” she joked, yawning and making a beeline for the coffee.
“Never too early.” Shane retorted, but the way everyone’s eyes were on her, Cat could tell they were waiting for something. She had absolutely no idea what that might be, though. She poured her coffee and frowned at them, hoping someone would explain.
“Ok, I give up. What are you looking at?” She finally sighed. Several of the men exchanged glances as if no one wanted to be the one to speak. This, naturally, made her more than a little nervous. Finally it was Krash who spoke.
“There’s a poll, here on uh… on one of the U2 gossip sites.” He said, and when he paused for a little longer than necessary, Cat urged him to go on. “People are voting on which member of the band you’re … well, seeing is a nice way to put it.”
“What?” She could hardly believe her ears. She rolled her eyes, deciding not to take it too seriously. People loved gossip. “So who’s the lucky guy?” she asked. Her friends seemed to breathe a sigh of relief to see she wasn’t going to blow a gasket over the news.
“Well, let’s see. At the moment Bono is way ahead.” Alex said, hitting a key. “Then Larry.” This made everyone laugh a little, naturally. Not only did she and Larry find it hard to get along but they had never been witnessed near one another. People were obviously just pulling things out of their imaginations.
“After that… Oh.” Alex stopped mid-sentence and looked at Krash who’s eyes widened a bit.
“What?”
“After that is multiple members.” Krash told her.
“People have really got to get a life.” She muttered. “Shit… this may be bad. We all know what happens to a female singers career when she ends up being dumped in the ‘slut’ category.”
“Not always. Look at Madonna.” Alex said, trying to be supportive. Cat gave him a look that let him know she did not appreciate his approach.
“What about Madonna?” Bono asked as he strolled into the room, followed by his new shadow, Angel, and the other members of the band in short order.
“She’s a slut.” Shane replied, mouth full of cheerios.
“We were just debating the effect gossip has on a career.” Cat informed him, not letting Shane hijack the conversation and take it off topic.
“What gossip?” Bono asked, yawning and scratching himself immodestly. Cat briefly explained what had happened the night before during the interview.
“Why didn’t you just tell them?” Adam asked as he poured himself a glass of juice. Cat stared at him, gape-mouthed with surprise.
“Uh… well, first of all I had no idea how you would feel about that.” She told him. “And secondly, why should it matter? That’s not why we’re here. If people are going to know who I am I want that to be because of my music not because of who I’m dating. I really don’t want to be… Courtney Love or Yoko Ono.”
“We don’t want you to either.” Larry muttered, and Cat’s eyes narrowed at him. Was that why he disliked her so? Did he really think she was going to bring some kind of harm to Adam, or break up the band after nearly thirty years together?
“So anyway, there’s a poll online today…” Alex said, turning the computer so the newcomers could take a look at the screen. Larry nearly choked on his cereal. Edge arched an eyebrow as he examined the poll, and Bono grinned at the ‘multiple’ option.
“Well, look at it this way, they’re giving you a lot of credit as far as sex appeal.” He told her.
“And energy, keeping up with all of us like that.” Edge teased, and Cat laughed in surprise that Edge was the one to say something like that to her. At least none of them seemed to be taking it too seriously, she thought. Then she turned her attention back to Adam who was scowling at the screen. He dumped most of his juice down the sink and excused himself before long, and it was obvious something was bothering him.
“Hey! Adam, wait up.” Cat called, jogging to catch up to him when he didn’t stop. She caught him by the belt loop on his pants and gave it a tug. “What’s wrong?” She asked, looking up into a set of stormy blue eyes.
“I think maybe I was right, when I told you this was going to be too complicated.” He told her.
“That’s bull shit, Adam! Why are you suddenly…” She asked, struggling to find the right words despite the sour feeling in the pit of her stomach.
“You obviously know it too, Cat. Fuck, everyone knows it! People we don’t even know. It’s absurd.” He told her, turning to walk away.
“Why do I obviously know it? I don’t know anything of the sort!”
“Then why did it never even occur to you to just answer the damned question directly? ‘Yes, I am seeing someone. Adam and I are seeing one another’. It’s not difficult.” He told her.
“Because I don’t want that to define who I am in the public eye!” She argued.
“Well that’s working out really well, isn’t it?” He retorted, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “I don’t think that’s the only reason. I think you know that people will say ‘what the hell is she doing with him?’ and you didn’t want to face that.”
“No. No, Adam that’s just…” she was trying to argue when his phone began to ring. He cursed under his breath and withdrew the phone from his pocket.
“Yes.” He said shortly. “Paul, it’s not a good time.” He said, turning his back to her. “I realize we’ve been playing phone tag for a week now, Paul, but whatever it is can wait for a little longer!” He snapped, punching the end button and turning back to Cat. The phone was ringing again before either of them could even speak.
Adam punched the receive button and growled “Piss off!” Cat had never seen him be really rude to anyone in the month’s time they’d known each other, and she stared at him in shock. Before he could hang up on him again, though, Paul said something which made Adam’s face go white.
“What?” he asked, over-enunciating the word dramatically. “No that’s not… well it’s possible, but… I can’t bloody believe this.”
“Adam?” Cat reached out and touched his hand, but he waved her off, his eyes distant. He turned and wandered off down the hall to his room, his argument with Cat forgotten in lieu of something else. Cat stared after him in disbelief. She didn’t know whether to laugh, cry, or be angry.
*********************************************************************
Angel walked ahead of Bono and John, his official bodyguard (the sort of man any sane person would think twice before provoking), peeking out the front doors at the small crowd loitering there. She eyed them all over, carefully taking in the details of each person and searching her mind for similarities to known ‘disciples’.
It wasn’t easy, there was such a wide variety of person interested in U2. There were kids as young as ten and a few people in their fifties, all milling around and hoping for the chance to meet the infamous man with one name. Or perhaps their personal guitar hero, or any of them at all. She couldn’t separate the loyal fan from the potential threat in her mind.
Bono snuck up behind her and leaned in close to whisper in her ear,
“Is it all clear?” She frowned at him seriously.
“If you had actually surprised me, you could’ve gotten yourself shot.” She scolded him. He grinned at her and wrapped a playful arm around her shoulders. His scent filled her nose and lungs and her heart actually skipped a beat in reaction. She really doubted she’d ever get used to that.
“I trust you to be a better cop than that.” He told her, his face all too close to her own for her comfort. Not that she didn't like it, actually it was more that she didn’t like the fact that she did like being so close. His incredibly blue eyes peeked out at her over his trademark sunglasses, locking with her own brown eyes.
“You shouldn’t. You should never put that much trust in anyone.” She warned him, wishing her voice had come out stronger. Her words were a coarse whisper. For some reason, she couldn’t seem to catch a full breath enough to speak loudly.
“That’s a pretty pessimistic view of life.” He told her, releasing his hold on her and turning to look out the doors himself.
“Realistic.” She told him with a shrug, one hand patting the glock holstered under her leather jacket. It was her security blanket, in a way. She hated the thought of actually firing it in the line of duty again, but knew it would be far worse to need it and not have it.
John led the way out onto the sidewalk, remaining close to Bono as the crowd began to murmur as they recognized him. He lifted his hand and waved to them, starting to veer off the direct path to the car which was waiting.
“Don’t do it.” She warned under her breath.
“Shite, how can I just wave and be off when they’ve been waiting here for so long? And in the rain!” He told her, flashing her another one of those mischievous smiles.
“I can’t protect you in this environment.” She told him, the two of them stopped in the middle of the sidewalk now, obviously deeply involved in conversation. First one camera flashed and then another. Angel stared at him boldly, grinding her teeth and wondering at his stubbornness.
“That’s what John’s here for.” He told her calmly, and after staring at her for a moment he spun on his heel and approached the crowd. He greeted them like old friends, although chances were he’d never seen one of them before, and certainly had no reason to remember them if he had.
She waited, hovering a few feet away impatiently. She could feel the eyes on her, wondering who she was. She was dressed in plain clothes but she had been told in the past that no matter what she wore she always looked like a cop. She hoped none of the people involved in the Disciples saw her that way, if they were nearby and watching. She was sure they were, they had eyes and ears everywhere.
She was still watching the crowd when Bono turned and smiled, pointing over his shoulder at her. What the hell was he doing? She gestured impatiently at the car with one thumb and he smiled and turned back to signing magazine covers and t-shirts. Once he was satisfied that he’d fulfilled his admirers, he turned back and caught her hand in his on the way to the car.
“What are you doing?” Angel asked, instinctively moving to pull away from his grasp, but he held fast. She heard a jealous murmur rise amongst several of the women in the crowd.
“Holding my girlfriends hand.” He told her with a wink. “I don’t want people to think you’re my new bodyguard or something.” He escorted her to the passenger side of the car, where the valet opened her door for her. She thanked him coolly and slid into the leather bucket seat.
“Where’s John supposed to sit?” She asked when Bono climbed in behind the wheel. She glanced over her shoulder at the practically non-existent backseat and knew the big man would never fit. She imagined herself trying to fit and found it difficult. Suddenly images of trying to fit in the backseat with Bono flashed through her mind.
Actually, a broken chain of several thoughts; the image of his naked chest and shoulders as he shrugged out of his shirt; the memory of the warmth that spread out within her whenever, wherever he touched her. His hair messy, his glasses off, smiling and chuckling as they wrestled against the lack of room. The creative positions he might think of to accommodate for that lack of space…
*Stop it!* She cursed her mind for wandering, especially for wandering onto that track. That was the last thing she needed, a crush on the victim she was watching.
“He’s following us there in another car.” Bono told her, in answer to the question she had almost forgotten asking by now. She didn’t even have her seat belt latched before he put the sports car into gear with a lurch and sped away from the hotel. She shot him a worried glance but held her tongue. He seemed to have things under control, and the less she had to talk to him the better.
As they weaved through traffic, she watched his hand on the gear shift of the manual transmission. She didn’t know why it was so mesmerizing to watch. She’d never noticed before, how sexy something so simple could be. Watching the muscles flex and strain in his arm when he shifted, and the muscles in both legs tightening as he pressed the peddles. Suddenly, she felt herself pulled forward, the seatbelt locking and catching her before she hit the windshield but knocking the breath out of her all the same.
“Watch it, ya bloody eejit!” Bono yelled, gesturing rudely at the other driver out the window and steering the car into the second lane. The whole process of accelerating to the highest possible speed began again, the car jerking slightly every time he shifted gears.
“You do have a drivers license, don’t you?” she asked dryly and he smirked at her.
“Now why would you ask that?” he asked, jerking to another sudden stop as a long yellow light turned red.
“Well I am here to protect you.” She said sarcastically. “So when I recognize something that might get you killed I have a duty to point it out.” She smiled when he laughed at her teasing.
“So it’s quite a life you must lead.” He said, his eyes on her more than the road as the light turned green and he sped forward once more, through heavy midmorning Boston traffic.
“Me?” She asked, arching a slender black brow at him, truly confused at this line of thought.
“Yeah. Being able to drop out of whatever else you had going on to keep an eye on me all day and night, travelling unexpectedly, all of that.” He explained.
“Oh. I see.” She said, her smile fading as she turned and looked out the window into the gray spring day. Was he trying to find out if she were married? And if he was, why? She forced herself to keep her heart from racing; to take deep even breaths and remain logical.
“And then there’s the nature of your job. Chasing bad guys.” He said in a playful fake American accent. “Cults and terrorists and that sort o’ thing.” She chuckled at him, shaking her head.
“Yeah, my life is a regular 1980’s action movie.” She quipped. “You got it pegged, I chase the bad guys and save the planet on a regular basis.”
“Not quite so exciting?” He asked, taking a corner so fast Angel reached up and grabbed the dash as if certain they were going to come off their wheels and slide sideways down the busy street.
“Not compared to riding in a car with you.” She exclaimed. Once he’d slowed down a bit and she could compose her thoughts she told him,
“For every hour of excitement or really gratifying field work there are three hour or more of paperwork. Usually more. Plus, in most movies, cases don’t drag on for years without ever going to court. Or being thrown out if they do make it. Or any other incredibly unhappy ending. The Hollywood endings are rare. More often than not we’re left frustrated and helpless.”
“Well, that makes me feel safer already.” He said.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to be quite so negative. We can usually accomplish quite a lot, but the bad cases are the ones that stick with you. After a few years you have enough of those to carry around and it gets harder to feel like a success.” She told him, reaching under her coat and touching her firearm in an unconscious habit.
“You ever have to use that?” Bono asked, having noticed this habit several times in the past few days. He’d watched her strap on her shoulder holster wondering how something he disliked and distrusted as much as a gun could become just an accessory. She didn’t seem the least bit aware of the thing, usually. Not like he was. Just when she started to get slightly nervous, she would touch it for reassurance.
“What? Oh, my firearm?” She replied, hardly realizing she’d been touching it. “Yeah, of course. Would you really want someone protecting you with a gun she had never fired?” She tried to joke, but he gave her a look that told her he was looking for a deeper answer.
“Yeah. I’ve used it.” She told him finally.
“Did you kill someone?” He asked, and she stared at him for a moment, thinking how different he seemed right then and there than he often did. So serious. It was a whole new side of him.
“Yeah. Once.” She told him. She never talked about this. She couldn’t understand why it was spilling out, now. Why she could tell him, when she’d barely been able to talk about it to her agency mandated therapist. “We were involved in a raid that ended in a shoot-out.” She told him.
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“I’d like to say it was ok, but of course it’s not. Ending a life isn’t something you get over.”
“But it was down to yours or his, right?”
“That I would’ve still tried to find another way out of. He drew down on another agent.”
“Still, you did it in order to save an innocent life.” He told her. She drew in a stuttered breath, needing to get out of this conversation desperately. Taking a life to save a life was ok. That’s what everyone kept telling her. But the other agent had not been saved. She told herself that she had done her best to save him, but it was always a question in her mind.
Just as the question of who fired first. Had she fired to save Greg from being shot, or had she fired after she saw that he had already been shot? It had all happened so quickly, it was a blur in her mind. The matter of those few seconds was more important than any other moment of her life. Was it before or after? It was the difference between a justified line of duty shooting and retribution and therefore excessive force. It was a matter of duty or murder.
It hadn’t helped that the agent shot was her fiancée’. They weren’t supposed to be working together in the first place. As soon as the agency found out they were engaged, they would have been reassigned to different posts. They had never expected to keep their relationship a secret forever, but they wanted to work together just a little longer.
Her already dark eyes turned nearly black as she wrestled with emotions she’d kept sealed up tightly. Memories she had packed away deep within her heart and not planned on revisiting anytime soon were suddenly brought to the surface. She forced herself to shove it all back into her subconscious, focusing on the task at hand.
“So what is this meeting you’re going too?” she asked, changing the subject. Bono knew better than try and continue, he had clearly stepped over a line with the question already. “Some sort of interview or something?”
“We’re actually going to meet with the CEO’s of a couple charitable business organizations, some senators and congressmen from here in the U.S. and a handful of African dignitaries about an aid program.” He informed her, and she cursed under her breath.
“You could have told me that earlier.” She complained.
“Why? What’s the difference?”
“Because I could’ve arranged for a security team. It’s the political and religious activities that most likely draws the attention of people like the disciples to you. That’s what pisses them off.” She told him, pulling out her cell phone and dialing her partner.
“We’ll be all right.” He told her, pulling up to a guard station at the gate of an embassy building.
“You really like to make my job harder than it has to be, don’t you?” She asked.
“Well, I know you say your life isn’t like a movie, but I can pretend can’t I?” He quipped.
“What movie are you talking about?”
“Y’know, the Bodyguard? That Kevin Costner one with Whitney Houston.” He smiled broadly at her and began to sing ‘I will always love you’ in a playful falsetto. Angel raised her hand to rub her temples and forehead.
“Your ID please?” The guard asked, putting Angel into the position in which she had to compromise her undercover status in order to continue into the embassy. She hated to do it, but she showed the man her federal ID and her badge. Bono had made certain his bodyguard, John, would be allowed to enter as well. He hadn’t warned them ahead of time he would have more than one security officers along.
It was something of interesting, she had to admit, to find herself amongst retired secret service members and others in the line of federal protection. It was an aspect of the job she hadn’t really experienced much, even though she had, at one time, considered taking a position with the secret service. That had been near the end of President Clinton’s term, but by the time the job started Bush was in office.
She’d often found herself grateful she had turned the position down. Nothing personal against the man, but she had issues with many of the actions of his cabinet, disagreed with several of the decisions which had been made. It would’ve been hard to keep her pride up while part of a team she had so many moral objections to.
Watching Bono in this venue was almost more entertaining for her than watching the man in concert. He was smart and well versed on the issues at hand, well spoken and his passion for the subject was clear. As he surrendered the floor to the next speaker, he turned to reclaim his seat and his eyes met Angel’s. He smiled at her sweetly and with a sinking feeling in her heart she knew she was in trouble. She was dangling over the deep, dark abyss of love.
********************************************************************
“Adam? C’mon, Adam…. We need to talk.” Cat called through the door to Adam’s room after knocking for several minutes. “I’m not going anywhere until you talk to me.” She said.
“You’re going to be standing there for a long time.” She heard a voice say behind her. She turned to see Larry leaning against the door to his own room, having heard her knocking and come out to get her to stop.
“What?” she asked, her eyes going directly to the tattoo displayed proudly on his bare shoulder. She figured it was better than staring at his bare chest and legs as he stood there in a pair of shorts. Just because they couldn’t seem to get along didn’t mean she couldn’t appreciate his infamously nice body. On a purely aesthetic level, of course.
“He caught a five o’clock plane back to Dublin.” Larry told her with a yawn.
“Why?” she asked, her heart sinking, a feeling of dread in the pit of her stomach.
“I don’t know. Something he had to meet with Paul and the lawyers about. He didn’t tell you any of this?” He frowned at her, genuinely surprised that she had no clue.
“No. I haven’t talked to him since this morning.” She told him, chewing on her lower lip.
“I’m sure whatever it is was just so urgent he didn’t get a chance to tell you.” He told her gently. Cat nodded and forced a smile, but she couldn’t risk speaking. Tears had already been threatening, but his apparent concern for her was going to be her undoing. If he had been as grouchy with her as usual, she could’ve stayed angry. At least until she was alone. She didn’t want him to see her hurting.
She turned without being able to speak a word and hurried down the hall to her room. She could feel his eyes on her back right up until she paused to slide the key in the lock. She glanced over her shoulder in time to see Larry’s door closing.
Less than ten minutes later, her phone began to ring.
“Hello?” She answered, truly having no idea who to expect.
“Hi.” She heard Adam’s suave accent and her heart did tumbles. “Sorry about leaving without telling you. I knew I would have to explain, and I didn’t really have time.” He told her. “Larry just called and told me I’d better let you know what was what.”
“Ok. Is everything all right?” She asked. Larry had called him. Why? She couldn’t figure him out. It was obvious he was a good enough guy, but it was no secret he didn’t much like Cat.
“Well… I guess. It’s been a strange day.” He told her, forcing a weak laugh. “I would rather tell you this face to face, but there’s a chance you’d hear it somewhere else first. I don’t want that to happen.”
“Adam, what is it?”
“Well, Uh… it would seem that I have a, uh… I have a daughter.”
Chapter Two: Wild Gypsy Rose Part 3
Cat shuffled into the common room, still blinking the sleep from her eyes, to find several people gathered around a lap top computer on the table.
“Isn’t it a little early to be looking at internet porn?” she joked, yawning and making a beeline for the coffee.
“Never too early.” Shane retorted, but the way everyone’s eyes were on her, Cat could tell they were waiting for something. She had absolutely no idea what that might be, though. She poured her coffee and frowned at them, hoping someone would explain.
“Ok, I give up. What are you looking at?” She finally sighed. Several of the men exchanged glances as if no one wanted to be the one to speak. This, naturally, made her more than a little nervous. Finally it was Krash who spoke.
“There’s a poll, here on uh… on one of the U2 gossip sites.” He said, and when he paused for a little longer than necessary, Cat urged him to go on. “People are voting on which member of the band you’re … well, seeing is a nice way to put it.”
“What?” She could hardly believe her ears. She rolled her eyes, deciding not to take it too seriously. People loved gossip. “So who’s the lucky guy?” she asked. Her friends seemed to breathe a sigh of relief to see she wasn’t going to blow a gasket over the news.
“Well, let’s see. At the moment Bono is way ahead.” Alex said, hitting a key. “Then Larry.” This made everyone laugh a little, naturally. Not only did she and Larry find it hard to get along but they had never been witnessed near one another. People were obviously just pulling things out of their imaginations.
“After that… Oh.” Alex stopped mid-sentence and looked at Krash who’s eyes widened a bit.
“What?”
“After that is multiple members.” Krash told her.
“People have really got to get a life.” She muttered. “Shit… this may be bad. We all know what happens to a female singers career when she ends up being dumped in the ‘slut’ category.”
“Not always. Look at Madonna.” Alex said, trying to be supportive. Cat gave him a look that let him know she did not appreciate his approach.
“What about Madonna?” Bono asked as he strolled into the room, followed by his new shadow, Angel, and the other members of the band in short order.
“She’s a slut.” Shane replied, mouth full of cheerios.
“We were just debating the effect gossip has on a career.” Cat informed him, not letting Shane hijack the conversation and take it off topic.
“What gossip?” Bono asked, yawning and scratching himself immodestly. Cat briefly explained what had happened the night before during the interview.
“Why didn’t you just tell them?” Adam asked as he poured himself a glass of juice. Cat stared at him, gape-mouthed with surprise.
“Uh… well, first of all I had no idea how you would feel about that.” She told him. “And secondly, why should it matter? That’s not why we’re here. If people are going to know who I am I want that to be because of my music not because of who I’m dating. I really don’t want to be… Courtney Love or Yoko Ono.”
“We don’t want you to either.” Larry muttered, and Cat’s eyes narrowed at him. Was that why he disliked her so? Did he really think she was going to bring some kind of harm to Adam, or break up the band after nearly thirty years together?
“So anyway, there’s a poll online today…” Alex said, turning the computer so the newcomers could take a look at the screen. Larry nearly choked on his cereal. Edge arched an eyebrow as he examined the poll, and Bono grinned at the ‘multiple’ option.
“Well, look at it this way, they’re giving you a lot of credit as far as sex appeal.” He told her.
“And energy, keeping up with all of us like that.” Edge teased, and Cat laughed in surprise that Edge was the one to say something like that to her. At least none of them seemed to be taking it too seriously, she thought. Then she turned her attention back to Adam who was scowling at the screen. He dumped most of his juice down the sink and excused himself before long, and it was obvious something was bothering him.
“Hey! Adam, wait up.” Cat called, jogging to catch up to him when he didn’t stop. She caught him by the belt loop on his pants and gave it a tug. “What’s wrong?” She asked, looking up into a set of stormy blue eyes.
“I think maybe I was right, when I told you this was going to be too complicated.” He told her.
“That’s bull shit, Adam! Why are you suddenly…” She asked, struggling to find the right words despite the sour feeling in the pit of her stomach.
“You obviously know it too, Cat. Fuck, everyone knows it! People we don’t even know. It’s absurd.” He told her, turning to walk away.
“Why do I obviously know it? I don’t know anything of the sort!”
“Then why did it never even occur to you to just answer the damned question directly? ‘Yes, I am seeing someone. Adam and I are seeing one another’. It’s not difficult.” He told her.
“Because I don’t want that to define who I am in the public eye!” She argued.
“Well that’s working out really well, isn’t it?” He retorted, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “I don’t think that’s the only reason. I think you know that people will say ‘what the hell is she doing with him?’ and you didn’t want to face that.”
“No. No, Adam that’s just…” she was trying to argue when his phone began to ring. He cursed under his breath and withdrew the phone from his pocket.
“Yes.” He said shortly. “Paul, it’s not a good time.” He said, turning his back to her. “I realize we’ve been playing phone tag for a week now, Paul, but whatever it is can wait for a little longer!” He snapped, punching the end button and turning back to Cat. The phone was ringing again before either of them could even speak.
Adam punched the receive button and growled “Piss off!” Cat had never seen him be really rude to anyone in the month’s time they’d known each other, and she stared at him in shock. Before he could hang up on him again, though, Paul said something which made Adam’s face go white.
“What?” he asked, over-enunciating the word dramatically. “No that’s not… well it’s possible, but… I can’t bloody believe this.”
“Adam?” Cat reached out and touched his hand, but he waved her off, his eyes distant. He turned and wandered off down the hall to his room, his argument with Cat forgotten in lieu of something else. Cat stared after him in disbelief. She didn’t know whether to laugh, cry, or be angry.
*********************************************************************
Angel walked ahead of Bono and John, his official bodyguard (the sort of man any sane person would think twice before provoking), peeking out the front doors at the small crowd loitering there. She eyed them all over, carefully taking in the details of each person and searching her mind for similarities to known ‘disciples’.
It wasn’t easy, there was such a wide variety of person interested in U2. There were kids as young as ten and a few people in their fifties, all milling around and hoping for the chance to meet the infamous man with one name. Or perhaps their personal guitar hero, or any of them at all. She couldn’t separate the loyal fan from the potential threat in her mind.
Bono snuck up behind her and leaned in close to whisper in her ear,
“Is it all clear?” She frowned at him seriously.
“If you had actually surprised me, you could’ve gotten yourself shot.” She scolded him. He grinned at her and wrapped a playful arm around her shoulders. His scent filled her nose and lungs and her heart actually skipped a beat in reaction. She really doubted she’d ever get used to that.
“I trust you to be a better cop than that.” He told her, his face all too close to her own for her comfort. Not that she didn't like it, actually it was more that she didn’t like the fact that she did like being so close. His incredibly blue eyes peeked out at her over his trademark sunglasses, locking with her own brown eyes.
“You shouldn’t. You should never put that much trust in anyone.” She warned him, wishing her voice had come out stronger. Her words were a coarse whisper. For some reason, she couldn’t seem to catch a full breath enough to speak loudly.
“That’s a pretty pessimistic view of life.” He told her, releasing his hold on her and turning to look out the doors himself.
“Realistic.” She told him with a shrug, one hand patting the glock holstered under her leather jacket. It was her security blanket, in a way. She hated the thought of actually firing it in the line of duty again, but knew it would be far worse to need it and not have it.
John led the way out onto the sidewalk, remaining close to Bono as the crowd began to murmur as they recognized him. He lifted his hand and waved to them, starting to veer off the direct path to the car which was waiting.
“Don’t do it.” She warned under her breath.
“Shite, how can I just wave and be off when they’ve been waiting here for so long? And in the rain!” He told her, flashing her another one of those mischievous smiles.
“I can’t protect you in this environment.” She told him, the two of them stopped in the middle of the sidewalk now, obviously deeply involved in conversation. First one camera flashed and then another. Angel stared at him boldly, grinding her teeth and wondering at his stubbornness.
“That’s what John’s here for.” He told her calmly, and after staring at her for a moment he spun on his heel and approached the crowd. He greeted them like old friends, although chances were he’d never seen one of them before, and certainly had no reason to remember them if he had.
She waited, hovering a few feet away impatiently. She could feel the eyes on her, wondering who she was. She was dressed in plain clothes but she had been told in the past that no matter what she wore she always looked like a cop. She hoped none of the people involved in the Disciples saw her that way, if they were nearby and watching. She was sure they were, they had eyes and ears everywhere.
She was still watching the crowd when Bono turned and smiled, pointing over his shoulder at her. What the hell was he doing? She gestured impatiently at the car with one thumb and he smiled and turned back to signing magazine covers and t-shirts. Once he was satisfied that he’d fulfilled his admirers, he turned back and caught her hand in his on the way to the car.
“What are you doing?” Angel asked, instinctively moving to pull away from his grasp, but he held fast. She heard a jealous murmur rise amongst several of the women in the crowd.
“Holding my girlfriends hand.” He told her with a wink. “I don’t want people to think you’re my new bodyguard or something.” He escorted her to the passenger side of the car, where the valet opened her door for her. She thanked him coolly and slid into the leather bucket seat.
“Where’s John supposed to sit?” She asked when Bono climbed in behind the wheel. She glanced over her shoulder at the practically non-existent backseat and knew the big man would never fit. She imagined herself trying to fit and found it difficult. Suddenly images of trying to fit in the backseat with Bono flashed through her mind.
Actually, a broken chain of several thoughts; the image of his naked chest and shoulders as he shrugged out of his shirt; the memory of the warmth that spread out within her whenever, wherever he touched her. His hair messy, his glasses off, smiling and chuckling as they wrestled against the lack of room. The creative positions he might think of to accommodate for that lack of space…
*Stop it!* She cursed her mind for wandering, especially for wandering onto that track. That was the last thing she needed, a crush on the victim she was watching.
“He’s following us there in another car.” Bono told her, in answer to the question she had almost forgotten asking by now. She didn’t even have her seat belt latched before he put the sports car into gear with a lurch and sped away from the hotel. She shot him a worried glance but held her tongue. He seemed to have things under control, and the less she had to talk to him the better.
As they weaved through traffic, she watched his hand on the gear shift of the manual transmission. She didn’t know why it was so mesmerizing to watch. She’d never noticed before, how sexy something so simple could be. Watching the muscles flex and strain in his arm when he shifted, and the muscles in both legs tightening as he pressed the peddles. Suddenly, she felt herself pulled forward, the seatbelt locking and catching her before she hit the windshield but knocking the breath out of her all the same.
“Watch it, ya bloody eejit!” Bono yelled, gesturing rudely at the other driver out the window and steering the car into the second lane. The whole process of accelerating to the highest possible speed began again, the car jerking slightly every time he shifted gears.
“You do have a drivers license, don’t you?” she asked dryly and he smirked at her.
“Now why would you ask that?” he asked, jerking to another sudden stop as a long yellow light turned red.
“Well I am here to protect you.” She said sarcastically. “So when I recognize something that might get you killed I have a duty to point it out.” She smiled when he laughed at her teasing.
“So it’s quite a life you must lead.” He said, his eyes on her more than the road as the light turned green and he sped forward once more, through heavy midmorning Boston traffic.
“Me?” She asked, arching a slender black brow at him, truly confused at this line of thought.
“Yeah. Being able to drop out of whatever else you had going on to keep an eye on me all day and night, travelling unexpectedly, all of that.” He explained.
“Oh. I see.” She said, her smile fading as she turned and looked out the window into the gray spring day. Was he trying to find out if she were married? And if he was, why? She forced herself to keep her heart from racing; to take deep even breaths and remain logical.
“And then there’s the nature of your job. Chasing bad guys.” He said in a playful fake American accent. “Cults and terrorists and that sort o’ thing.” She chuckled at him, shaking her head.
“Yeah, my life is a regular 1980’s action movie.” She quipped. “You got it pegged, I chase the bad guys and save the planet on a regular basis.”
“Not quite so exciting?” He asked, taking a corner so fast Angel reached up and grabbed the dash as if certain they were going to come off their wheels and slide sideways down the busy street.
“Not compared to riding in a car with you.” She exclaimed. Once he’d slowed down a bit and she could compose her thoughts she told him,
“For every hour of excitement or really gratifying field work there are three hour or more of paperwork. Usually more. Plus, in most movies, cases don’t drag on for years without ever going to court. Or being thrown out if they do make it. Or any other incredibly unhappy ending. The Hollywood endings are rare. More often than not we’re left frustrated and helpless.”
“Well, that makes me feel safer already.” He said.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to be quite so negative. We can usually accomplish quite a lot, but the bad cases are the ones that stick with you. After a few years you have enough of those to carry around and it gets harder to feel like a success.” She told him, reaching under her coat and touching her firearm in an unconscious habit.
“You ever have to use that?” Bono asked, having noticed this habit several times in the past few days. He’d watched her strap on her shoulder holster wondering how something he disliked and distrusted as much as a gun could become just an accessory. She didn’t seem the least bit aware of the thing, usually. Not like he was. Just when she started to get slightly nervous, she would touch it for reassurance.
“What? Oh, my firearm?” She replied, hardly realizing she’d been touching it. “Yeah, of course. Would you really want someone protecting you with a gun she had never fired?” She tried to joke, but he gave her a look that told her he was looking for a deeper answer.
“Yeah. I’ve used it.” She told him finally.
“Did you kill someone?” He asked, and she stared at him for a moment, thinking how different he seemed right then and there than he often did. So serious. It was a whole new side of him.
“Yeah. Once.” She told him. She never talked about this. She couldn’t understand why it was spilling out, now. Why she could tell him, when she’d barely been able to talk about it to her agency mandated therapist. “We were involved in a raid that ended in a shoot-out.” She told him.
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“I’d like to say it was ok, but of course it’s not. Ending a life isn’t something you get over.”
“But it was down to yours or his, right?”
“That I would’ve still tried to find another way out of. He drew down on another agent.”
“Still, you did it in order to save an innocent life.” He told her. She drew in a stuttered breath, needing to get out of this conversation desperately. Taking a life to save a life was ok. That’s what everyone kept telling her. But the other agent had not been saved. She told herself that she had done her best to save him, but it was always a question in her mind.
Just as the question of who fired first. Had she fired to save Greg from being shot, or had she fired after she saw that he had already been shot? It had all happened so quickly, it was a blur in her mind. The matter of those few seconds was more important than any other moment of her life. Was it before or after? It was the difference between a justified line of duty shooting and retribution and therefore excessive force. It was a matter of duty or murder.
It hadn’t helped that the agent shot was her fiancée’. They weren’t supposed to be working together in the first place. As soon as the agency found out they were engaged, they would have been reassigned to different posts. They had never expected to keep their relationship a secret forever, but they wanted to work together just a little longer.
Her already dark eyes turned nearly black as she wrestled with emotions she’d kept sealed up tightly. Memories she had packed away deep within her heart and not planned on revisiting anytime soon were suddenly brought to the surface. She forced herself to shove it all back into her subconscious, focusing on the task at hand.
“So what is this meeting you’re going too?” she asked, changing the subject. Bono knew better than try and continue, he had clearly stepped over a line with the question already. “Some sort of interview or something?”
“We’re actually going to meet with the CEO’s of a couple charitable business organizations, some senators and congressmen from here in the U.S. and a handful of African dignitaries about an aid program.” He informed her, and she cursed under her breath.
“You could have told me that earlier.” She complained.
“Why? What’s the difference?”
“Because I could’ve arranged for a security team. It’s the political and religious activities that most likely draws the attention of people like the disciples to you. That’s what pisses them off.” She told him, pulling out her cell phone and dialing her partner.
“We’ll be all right.” He told her, pulling up to a guard station at the gate of an embassy building.
“You really like to make my job harder than it has to be, don’t you?” She asked.
“Well, I know you say your life isn’t like a movie, but I can pretend can’t I?” He quipped.
“What movie are you talking about?”
“Y’know, the Bodyguard? That Kevin Costner one with Whitney Houston.” He smiled broadly at her and began to sing ‘I will always love you’ in a playful falsetto. Angel raised her hand to rub her temples and forehead.
“Your ID please?” The guard asked, putting Angel into the position in which she had to compromise her undercover status in order to continue into the embassy. She hated to do it, but she showed the man her federal ID and her badge. Bono had made certain his bodyguard, John, would be allowed to enter as well. He hadn’t warned them ahead of time he would have more than one security officers along.
It was something of interesting, she had to admit, to find herself amongst retired secret service members and others in the line of federal protection. It was an aspect of the job she hadn’t really experienced much, even though she had, at one time, considered taking a position with the secret service. That had been near the end of President Clinton’s term, but by the time the job started Bush was in office.
She’d often found herself grateful she had turned the position down. Nothing personal against the man, but she had issues with many of the actions of his cabinet, disagreed with several of the decisions which had been made. It would’ve been hard to keep her pride up while part of a team she had so many moral objections to.
Watching Bono in this venue was almost more entertaining for her than watching the man in concert. He was smart and well versed on the issues at hand, well spoken and his passion for the subject was clear. As he surrendered the floor to the next speaker, he turned to reclaim his seat and his eyes met Angel’s. He smiled at her sweetly and with a sinking feeling in her heart she knew she was in trouble. She was dangling over the deep, dark abyss of love.
********************************************************************
“Adam? C’mon, Adam…. We need to talk.” Cat called through the door to Adam’s room after knocking for several minutes. “I’m not going anywhere until you talk to me.” She said.
“You’re going to be standing there for a long time.” She heard a voice say behind her. She turned to see Larry leaning against the door to his own room, having heard her knocking and come out to get her to stop.
“What?” she asked, her eyes going directly to the tattoo displayed proudly on his bare shoulder. She figured it was better than staring at his bare chest and legs as he stood there in a pair of shorts. Just because they couldn’t seem to get along didn’t mean she couldn’t appreciate his infamously nice body. On a purely aesthetic level, of course.
“He caught a five o’clock plane back to Dublin.” Larry told her with a yawn.
“Why?” she asked, her heart sinking, a feeling of dread in the pit of her stomach.
“I don’t know. Something he had to meet with Paul and the lawyers about. He didn’t tell you any of this?” He frowned at her, genuinely surprised that she had no clue.
“No. I haven’t talked to him since this morning.” She told him, chewing on her lower lip.
“I’m sure whatever it is was just so urgent he didn’t get a chance to tell you.” He told her gently. Cat nodded and forced a smile, but she couldn’t risk speaking. Tears had already been threatening, but his apparent concern for her was going to be her undoing. If he had been as grouchy with her as usual, she could’ve stayed angry. At least until she was alone. She didn’t want him to see her hurting.
She turned without being able to speak a word and hurried down the hall to her room. She could feel his eyes on her back right up until she paused to slide the key in the lock. She glanced over her shoulder in time to see Larry’s door closing.
Less than ten minutes later, her phone began to ring.
“Hello?” She answered, truly having no idea who to expect.
“Hi.” She heard Adam’s suave accent and her heart did tumbles. “Sorry about leaving without telling you. I knew I would have to explain, and I didn’t really have time.” He told her. “Larry just called and told me I’d better let you know what was what.”
“Ok. Is everything all right?” She asked. Larry had called him. Why? She couldn’t figure him out. It was obvious he was a good enough guy, but it was no secret he didn’t much like Cat.
“Well… I guess. It’s been a strange day.” He told her, forcing a weak laugh. “I would rather tell you this face to face, but there’s a chance you’d hear it somewhere else first. I don’t want that to happen.”
“Adam, what is it?”
“Well, Uh… it would seem that I have a, uh… I have a daughter.”
