Ingrams & Assoc 6: Downfall Ch. 02

"I'm actually staying," interjected April, mildly, stretching to try and make the announcement even more off the cuff. "I arranged an Airbnb before I left the states. I mean, I'm here, right? On the conventions dime? Might as well see something of Madrid while I'm here. It's not like I have anything waiting for me at home."

She shrugged after the stretch, while watching him carefully. No big deal, right? She hoped she'd pitched it right.

"Yeah, I guess I can see that," he said, thoughtfully. "Look, April. I gotta say, I'm enjoying this. More than I have any right to, honestly."

April smiled at the rueful expression on his face.

"I'm... kinda involved in something. Something that is all consuming. A task of passion, you might say. And it's taking all of me. This, what we are doing here, it's like the eye of the storm. A lovely wonderful bit of R & R, but the job is still there and it's not going away. And it's not something I can take you in with me."

This opening was a crucial decision for April. Did she go after details of the whatever it was he was doing, now the opportunity had been presented, or did she pass by and concentrate on making him feel okay about her taking whatever was presented?

She abruptly decided on the latter. Make him comfortable, and the details would come, in time.

"Hey," she said softly. She looked around, and grabbed a long cardigan she had carelessly discarded a day before on the ottoman next to the bed, and pulled it on, doing is as slowly and sensuously as she knew how. When she was done, she sat back, looking at his through lidded eyes.

"Look, I get it. Ships passing in the night. But, it's still night, right? C'mon. I'm not asking for the rest of your life here. Just a few days. Once this conference is done, show me the sights. Make memories with me that we'll both remember, right? What have you got to lose?"

She could see Chris considering, and to help it along, she tucked her legs under her body, and pushed up on them, leaning forward and 'accidentally' letting one boob pop out from her lightly tied robe.

"I promise to make the evenings memorable. And some of the mornings too, if you are lucky," she said, in a husky voice.

It would have taken a stronger man than Chris Morgan to resist, and he broke, as she had hoped he would.

"Fine. I get that you only want me for my body," he pouted, artificially. "As long as you know there is a time limit, okay? But, fine. As much as the local sights are, we can take a look together. How long do you have?'

April pumped the air, surprised at how happy she actually was. "Yes! Oh, five days. A week, maybe more, depending on when I can get a flight home."

"Okay then. So, I need to go. See you at the morning session?"

April nodded, happily. Then, just as he was turning to leave, totally on the spur of the moment, April jumped up and tackled him, grabbing him and turning him around and planting a massive smacker on his mouth. It was a passionate kiss, and while she was doing it, April was marveling at herself. This wasn't her MO. She was cool, calm and collected. In control. The women in charge. But here... she felt like a teenager who'd just discovered sex. It was not her, and she'd be having words with herself later. But right now, there was this luscious man to kiss and she was damned if she was going to let the opportunity pass.

After breaking the kiss, she looked up at him, fiercely, with a distinct gleam in her eye.

"I'll be here," she husked.

He smiled, and then stepped back, so he could leave. She watched him go, and then, when the hotel door closed with a solid clunk, she turned and actually skipped to the shower, stopping halfway when she realized what she was doing.

* * * * *

The next few days flew by from April's point of view. She had the conference to organize. Her tasks, - which she had to do, in order for her job to look convincing, - meant that her time with Chris Morgan was relegated to lunches, dinner and then evening parties. And the night time, where the two of them feasted on each other, with great abandonment.

April was astonished that the second night, far from being a lessor night than the first, was actually even better. Both of them seemed to know what the other wanted, having learned that first night. Both were intent on each other, making sure the other was satisfied.

April, for her job, did try and slowly enquire about his history, where he'd come from, what his past was, but in every case, Chris Morgan sidestepped the questions, and answered with a kiss, a nipple pinch, or a comment saying, "I'll tell you later," a quote not lost on her, since it was a staple of the TV series the conference was about.

She was most interested in where he was staying, and with whom, and had debated with the team sending one of their people out to follow him home, when he left in the morning. Eventually, after much discussion, she had made the executive decision to not try it. Chris Morgan was a trained intelligence officer, and while the Ingrams people were also well trained, they were not spies. Their training in counter espionage trade craft was desultory at best, and they'd never compare against a trained professional. And while Chris Morgan was not expecting to be followed from a Doctor Who Convention, if he got wind of it, he'd be gone and they'd never find him again. Just safer all-round if April persuaded him to take her where she wanted to go, rather than push and risk being revealed.

She realized very early that he was intentionally sidestepping her interest, and she'd have to find other ways into the questions, and more oblique on that direct asking. She'd have to create opportunities for him to volunteer it, for him to feel like sharing was his idea. Unfortunately, that took time, and she was short of that. She decided she'd concentrate more on this when the conference was done.

All too soon, the closing events for the convention took place, the 'Gallifrey Underground' guys, Julian, Simon and Warren, presiding.

Three Doctors, the ex-executive producer and many fans were in attendance, and a good time was had by all. Many pronouncements about those attending 'really looking forward to next year's event' were made, raising April's eyebrow. She was more than prepared to let someone else take that on, although she did note Talia nodding fiercely at these pronouncements.

That night, April and Chris spent the evening having a slow dinner, both a little buzzed from the booze being thrown around at the afternoon's closing ceremonies. There was less talking, more just being together. And April was struck again how comfortable she was with this man. When she could get to the point of just being together, without having to fill every moment with talk, there was something about that, something reassuring.

They made slow love, at one point on the balcony of her room, seven stories up. It was a perfect night, with nothing being spoken, yet everything being said.

And the next day, the packing began. The conference booths were broken down, the vendors left, the guests of honor departed for the airport, and the Ingrams crew held a council of war. Sitting in April's room, with Jessica on the speaker phone, they debated the next move.

"Well, April, well done. Feather in our cap, I must say. The client is very happy, and the faces at Pinkertons, the CIA and all the rest are very red right now," said Jessica, sounding very upbeat. "I didn't honestly believe it would work but it appears you read it just right."

"Thanks Jessica. We are pretty pleased here, too," replied April, smiling at everyone in the room.

"So, what's next April?" asked Jessica, sounding very tinny over the small speaker.

The Ingrams team had prepared several contingent plans for how they might act beyond the timeline of the conference, based on possible outcomes. The current one was dictated by April's judgement of the burgeoning relationship.

"Well, most of the team is packing up and heading home. Megan is sticking around in a different hotel, and we are having two of the guys from the UK office are due to arrive this afternoon to provide more support. I'm staying at the AirBnB we arranged."

"Yeah, I have to stay here, Jessica. It's all about the mission, you know," interjected Megan, with a nervous smile.

"Yes, Megan, I've no doubt," replied Jessica, drily. "Not at all about an all-expenses paid trip to Spain, and not at all about drinks in the hotel bar later, I'm sure."

"Umm... you know I would never do that, Jessica!" replied Megan, smiling broadly at everyone in the room and nodding her head vigorously.

"No, of course not. I'm sure you are the model of decorum," Jessica said, laying on the sarcasm somewhat thickly. Although she knew it was all bullshit anyway. Megan was pregnant. There was zero chance she'd be drinking alcohol.

"Any progress with a profile? Any thoughts on why he's hell bent on attacking the client's buildings? And what might be done about it?" inquired Jessica.

"Not yet," said April, thoughtfully, one foot tucked up under her body, with the other steepled in front of her, arms around the upright leg and resting her chin on the knee. "He's damaged, that much is obvious. He's disciplined, and hasn't let anything about what he's doing here slip yet. But, we've definitely been getting closer, much faster than even I had anticipated. We've spent every day and evening together. I can't say that he exactly trusts me yet, but we did overcome his initial reticence to get involved at all."

"What's next?" asked Talia, their resident Doctor Who expert.

"Well, the next priority is to get him to invite me to wherever it is that he calls home. We know he has support here, some kind of team. Hopefully, get introduced to them. I need to see the dynamic he has with them ,- are they friends, or are they paid team members? Who is he close to? Who might he confide in? If he doesn't have anyone, then I need to try and fill that gap. If he does, I need to get close to that person too, and not be threatening in anyway. I only really have a few days to get this moving; too long spent here would raise too many questions about how I am able to do that."

"Well, that sounds about right. Are you seeing him today?" Jessica wanted to know.

April glanced at her watch. "In about an hour. Now I don't have conference business weighing me down, I can be seen to concentrate on him, which is what I need."

"Well, sounds good. Don't spend too long on this, remember, we've already fulfilled our remit, anything else we get done is gravy. Being able to say not only 'we found him' but explain why and offering to get him to stop would be great. But don't spend too long on it. We do have other business and cases," reminded Jessica. "I'll see you back here in a week or so, yes?"

"That's the plan," replied April, deliberately not confirming it. She felt it would take longer to get inside Chris Morgan's confidences, and besides, she was in no hurry to leave his company. Again, she looked inside herself and didn't especially like what she was seeing; the need for control of her own emotions battled with her raising desire for this man. She was a professional, dammit. She controlled her emotions, not the other way around!

"Okay, well, I won't keep you. Good work everyone, April. Very good work. I'll see the rest of you at the office next week. And Talia?"

"Yah?"

"You do realize we actually made a profit on this endeavor, right?"

"Oh!"

"There'll be a bonus for you. For all of you, in fact. Well done again. Now, go pack."

And with that, Jessica broke the connection.

"Drinks are on me tonight," said April, smiling again, with affection for her team.

* * * * *

At midday precisely, Chris Morgan, still wearing his now signature leather jacket, walked through the doors of the hotel, to find April, clad in mesh leggings, tennis shoes and a wraparound jacket waiting for him.

She beamed at him as he walked over, offering her cheek for him to kiss. As a gesture, it was both innocuous and intimate. The whole point she was going for was fast forwarding the small intimate touches that established couples build up to; to essentially act like a couple who is comfortable with each other, in order to promote the belief that they were a couple who is intimately comfortable with each other. The faster that mindset was accepted on Morgan's part, the faster she could ask him questions that he would answer naturally, since couples don't keep secrets from each other, do they?

What was really disturbing was how little April had to actually pretend.

"Ready for lunch?" he asked, taking in April's lithe form in her body tight outfit, with appreciation.

"Starving. Where are we going?" she replied grabbing her bag.

"A little place I know... off the Calle de Francisco Silvela. It's walkable from here. We can even sit outside. They do a great Paella there."

"Sounds charming! Shall we?" She gestured to the door, and Chris Morgan bowed deeply to her, extending his arm out towards the exit.

"My Lady."

"My Lord," she giggled in reply, laughing at his old school theatrics.

The walk was slow, they talked, laughing as they went, Chris talking about the city. He'd obviously either been there a while or been there before, because he knew it well, and talked about places he thought they should see over the next few days.

They arrived at the restaurant, with curb side tables, and immediately found an empty table, on the edge of the seating area. They ordered Sangria, and two plates of Paella and sat talking, about everything and nothing. April kept looking around, then back at Morgan, marveling at how easy this man was to talk to, and the environment she got to do it in. She was sitting in a restaurant in Spain, surrounded by Spanish people, in wonderful weather, with a man she would have to resist mightily on an emotional level. For the first time ever, she was wondering if the job was worth it.

After the drinks arrived, they waited for the food, and as couples the world over have done, they started to people watch. They examined other people eating at tables around them, supposing jobs and discussions they were engaged in. The older couple, - an anniversary. They weren't speaking much, so obviously been married a long time. Perhaps a farewell tour before divorce? The two teenage girls sitting watching men pass by on bicycles are husband, - or at least Mr. Right Now, - shopping, and comparing their own desires in a man. The man alone, with the lanky hair and thin face and motorcycle leathers, with the backpack, who glanced over at April nervously several times, is stood up by a first date, and wondering if April might step in. The possibilities were endless.

Although, the man did look familiar to April. He had that sort of face, the one that people think they've seen before. She knew for a fact he wasn't part of the conference, and it's not like she'd been to Spain before, so the likelihood of running into someone she'd met before was pretty slim. That said, there was something about him... and the way he looked at her, it was almost as if he was asking himself the same questions she was.

Eventually, after waiting more than half an hour for their food, and not seeing a waiter for the last ten, Morgan announces he will do the gallant thing, and go inside to enquire after their meal. "After all," he jokes, "I think my Spanish is better than yours."

While she waited, April took in again all the people around her. The motorcycle guy had obviously given up on his imagined date, got up from his table and walked towards a motorbike that had just pulled up on the curbside.

As he did so, April noticed he'd left his backpack on the chair, and was wondering whether to do something about it as Morgan exited the restaurant main door.

Morgan watched the guy get on the motorcycle, and, in a moment of premonition, he glanced at where the man had been sitting, and saw the backpack. He glanced back at the mystery man, as he sat on the back of the motorcycle, helmet visor up, and they locked eyes.

At that moment, Morgan knew something was wrong. He'd seen the dead eyes before, and he knew what they meant. Hackles were raised, and he knew, he knew, without a doubt, what was happening.

Everything over the next few seconds appeared to happen in slow motion.

The motorcycle took off, the man on the back staring at Morgan.

Dropping the two new glasses of Sangria he held, Morgan screamed out April's name, turning towards her, moving as fast as he was capable.

April stood sharply, not knowing what was going on. Other people at tables around them either stood too, or looked up, uncertainly.

Morgan just reached April, literally gathering her up in his arms as he pushed her forcibly back, towards the corner of the building, trying to get her around it, as the bomb in the backpack went off.