The Program Ch. 10

"Training seminar," she sighed. "I hate how long he's gone for those things. But if he's done early enough he may join us."

"Seminar?"

"He's working all the time now."

Taylor smiled kindly at the worry in Danny's voice. "He's a hard worker."

"I'm just trying to find someone to worry about."

"Worrying about other people is a family trait then?" Taylor smiled. "How's his shoulder?"

"Healing up just fine."

"I never checked on the package Josh put together for him. He's doing alright?"

A smile touched the corner of Danny's mouth before she answered emphatically, "Oh yeah."

"Ew," Taylor chuckled.

Danny giggled, "You asked."

"That I did." They both laughed.

"What did I miss?" Bill asked, pressing a kiss to Danny's cheek and settling into the empty chair. Danny's face flushed and Taylor glanced down into her drink.

"Just some girl talk," Taylor mumbled with a grin.

Bill tore his eyes away from Danny's face and smiled at Taylor. "I only find that hard to believe because there's nothing girly about you, James."

Taylor raised a brow sharply, but her severity dissolved with the sight of the grin on Bill's face. She cleared her throat, "I think it's time to order, hm?"

By the time they were drinking coffee, Taylor was pleasantly full of food and good company. It was the first time in a long time that she'd had the feeling. Josh was right; she had been too intent on cutting everyone out. Or maybe just unfortunately good at it. It was a strange thing to finally see through the cloud of loneliness, and she smiled as Danny excused herself for the restroom.

"What's that grin about?" Bill asked. "Your smiles are normally nothing but trouble."

"That's none of your business," she chuckled into her cup of coffee. "So what have you been up to Mr. Martin?"

"Same old, same old. Computers are my thing." He winked.

"Computers and girls like that one," Taylor tipped her head toward Danny's empty seat. "How's the healing going?"

Bill unconsciously stiffened his shoulder, "It's going. Not fast, but it's going."

"And other than the physical?" she asked softly.

Bill's smile looked more like a grimace. "Also going."

"How's she?"

"Ok," he said simply. "She's... healing."

"I suppose Wilson has already threatened your life?"

He snorted and nodded. "A few times."

"So I don't need to?" Taylor raised a brow.

Bill sighed. "If it'll make you feel better, go for it."

"If you hurt her... Imagine some horrible, painful, and emasculating demise," Taylor waved her hand vaguely.

Bill started to grin. "I believe you; I've seen what you can do. But I'm not going anywhere. On that topic, though. How are you doing?"

Taylor shrugged.

"Come on, Taylor. Even if Danny won't say anything, you've got a whole pile of new bruises. Is everything ok?"

Taylor let out a long, exasperated breath. "It's cute that you care, Boy Scout." To be honest, she did mean it. It was nice to have someone worried about her well-being. Someone other than Wilson. "But you should know I can't talk about work. Trust me, you don't want to know."

Bill raised his hands in surrender. "You're right. If it's work, I don't want to know. I just want to be sure you're ok. You know... In general."

She smiled. "I've never been ok. But I'm good."

Bill grinned. "Good."

Danny slid back into her seat. "What's good?" she asked.

"Life, sweetie," Taylor said absently, watching the way Bill seamlessly entwined his fingers with Danny's. "But I have to get going."

"Aw," Danny pouted. "You'd better not disappear for another year on me."

"I won't." Taylor slipped her coat on. "

~o~

Danny tucked her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes as Bill draped his arm around her. He turned from looking out the cab window and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "That was fun."

Danny nodded. "It's been a while since Taylor and I have hung out like that. I've missed it."

"She's much easier to be around when she's not wielding a gun," Bill said wryly.

She chuckled. "What was it you were talking about when I was gone?"

He traced an imaginary line up her arm. "Oh, this and that."

"Any this that I'd know about?"

"Well, you. A little about me, a little about her, but mostly you."

"Me?" Danny pinched his side playfully. "You gossip. What did you specifically say about me?"

"That you were fine, and that I love you dearly, and that she didn't need to threaten my life." Bill smiled. "She did anyway."

Danny scoffed. "'Course she did."

"Taylor and your brother, man, cut from the same cloth. How did you date? Like ever?"

Danny laughed softly. "I didn't know you to be that bad at judging people. Josh is protective, sure. But he's my big brother; it's his job. Taylor, on the other hand," she shrugged. "Taylor is protective, because for the longest time, no one really protected her. She's seen the absolute worst that the world has to offer. Been to hell and back, really. Josh would take a swing at you if I asked him to, but if you ever did something to earn Taylor's wrath... God help you."

"I don't even want to know what I'd have to do for you to sick Taylor on me."

"I thought you liked Taylor," Danny chided.

Bill made a face. "You want me to extol her virtues, I can do that. She is hot. Tough as nails. And what she can do with a computer, total turn-on. It's like a geek's wet dream. Bit of a femme noire really though. Sexy in a dark and dangerous kinda way."

Danny smacked his shoulder. "Knock it off."

Bill's hand caught her chin and he gazed down seriously. "Danny, I don't want Taylor. I want you."

Something like doubt flickered in Danny's eyes. "Yeah, I know."

"I did not settle for you." He kissed her slowly and deliberately, never releasing her chin from his fingers. "I want you. I don't know if I can be any clearer on the matter."

"Guys just always seem so interested in Taylor."

"Yeah, well. I'm interested in sky-diving, but you don't see me jumping out of every plane I'm on. I don't care how intense the ride is."

"You had an intense few days together though." Danny's lip twitched. "Are you going to miss the excitement?"

"Work will be all the business exhilaration I need. And you," his arms wrapped around her waist and he pulled her into his lap. "You will be all the excitement I can possibly handle."

Danny giggled. "Me as excitement?"

"Mmn," Bill nuzzled the side of her neck. "Very exciting. At least it will be once we get home. I wonder if this cab can go any faster." A smile bloomed across Danny's face and he couldn't help grinning back. "Hey buddy," he said to the driver. "I'll give you an extra twenty if you get us there in the next five minutes."

~o~

Wilson dumped his bag by the door and tossed his keys onto the counter. He was beat. New York had been a mess. The ATF had no clue what they were doing and had thrown some vague and insincere apology his way. Off the record, of course. Patrick wasn't going to be all that pleased. Hell, Taylor would be spitting nails, not that he could blame her. He had been damn near tempted to shoot them for their ignorance. What was the excuse they had thrown at him? Oh yeah, the CIA doesn't operate on US soil. Ugh, he needed a break. No, no. He needed bed. Bed and a shower. He sniffed the collar of his shirt and winced. Shower first.

Without bothering to turn on the lights, he stumbled into the bathroom and stripped while he waited for the water to warm. Stepping under the hot jets, he immediately felt better. The steam in the shower pushed the fog from his brain, and he could breathe again. Maybe he would go over Taylor's place once he was clean. He'd been considering it on the flight back to DC, but by the time he'd landed and made it back to his car, it was after two. She'd still be awake though, right?

He turned off the taps, dried off quickly, and wrapping the towel around his waist, headed for the bedroom. At least he would be clean if he woke her up when he called. Two steps into the hall and he stumbled, letting out a curse as he collided with the wall. "Shit!" he hissed, hopping on one foot and rubbing his damaged toe. "The fuck is that?"

He winced at his choice in language. Apparently, Taylor was rubbing off on him. With a frown, he stooped to pick up the offending object. A shoe? A slow smile spread across his face as he recognized Taylor's boot. As quietly as possible, he eased open his bedroom door.

Taylor's sleeping form made for a very small lump, curled up under the comforter in the middle of his bed. Wilson smiled again, a warm sensation spreading through his body at the sight. He wouldn't have to go to her place after all. Suddenly, he wasn't quite so tired.

Taylor was having the most wonderful dream and she sighed as his skin glided along hers, his heat warming her. Arms slid around her body and she cuddled back into the warmth along her spine. She even imagined the deep, dangerous laugh that would have rumbled through his chest. It was a great dream. His hands roamed, settling only to caress the curve of her hip or ponder the full weight of her breast. His lips pressed against her shoulder, her neck, just behind her ear.

The same purring chuckle breezed across her ear, "You must have been exhausted if you're still not awake." Taylor furrowed her brow, starting slightly at the feeling of his arms drawing tighter around her. His tongue traced slowly around the swirl of her ear and she shivered. "I feel like I should worry. Would you be this passive if just anyone wandered into my room?"

She smiled faintly, the sensation of his lips on her skin delaying the desire to open her eyes. "Anyone who makes me feel this good..."

She heard the low growl just before she found herself flat on her back, blinking up at a pair of darkly glinting blue eyes. His thumb dragged slowly across her bottom lip, "You had better be kidding."

"Who else would be wandering into your room?" she raised a brow, growing more awake by the moment.

He grumbled, his eyes tightening, the anger lost to the small twitch at the corner of his mouth. "Shush," he muttered.

"Make me."

His lips were on hers before she could finish the challenge and the kiss stole her breath with an audible gasp. He methodically explored the heat of her mouth, not slowing until her head was spinning. She let out a small, contented sigh as he pulled away; her eyes fluttering open again.

He smiled, "Not that I'm complaining, but what are you doing in my bed?" He toyed with a lock of her hair as he waited for her answer.

She stretched out beneath him. "My apartment felt too empty."

"And, being alone in mine is somehow better?" he asked doubtfully.

Her lips pulled into a wry smile, "It smells like you here."

"I knew there was a reason I didn't wash my sheets." She swatted at his shoulder and he chuckled. "And my place smelling like me," he hooked a finger over the edge of the sheet and slowly tugged it away from her chin, steadily exposing inch after inch of bare skin. "Did that somehow necessitate you being naked?"

Taylor yawned and feigned boredom. "Nah, that's just to annoy you. Is it working?"

The sheet slipped down below her breasts and Wilson grinned. "Annoyed, no. Bothered... Maybe." He watched the expression on her face as he continued to slide the sheet from her body.

She blushed at the sensation of the fabric skimming over her stomach. But when his fingers bunched the cloth against her thigh, she giggled nervously and grabbed the sheet. "Stop, Josh."

"Stop what?" His hand fisted in the cloth, trying to tug it from her grasp.

She squirmed, clinging to her last inch of modesty. "Josh," she complained.

He shifted quickly, prying her hands free and pinning her wrists to the bed in one large palm. "Taylor." His eyes glittered darkly and she stilled, her cheeks colouring again under the intensity of his stare. Slowly, deliberately, he traced the shape of her body with his eyes, sweeping the sheet away when it impeded his study.

Taylor felt the caress of his gaze as if it were a second set of hands. She watched with fascination the expressions that flit across his face. No one had ever looked at her like that before and a warm sensation spread from deep in her belly, bringing a flush to her whole body. God she wanted him to touch her.

He took his time as his eyes moved meticulously along her curves. She was nearly panting when his fingers brushed along her side. He shifted, his fingertips grazing the series of bruises along her forearm and down to her shoulder. Taylor's eyes fluttered as he moved to caress the side of her face. His thumb traced her bottom lip and Taylor couldn't keep the sigh from escaping. "Like what you see?" she whispered tentatively.

His lips drew back into a lazy smile. "Everything but the bruises, Shorty."

"Sorry," she said wryly. "I don't play well with hand grenades."

The smile dissolved from his face as the playful look in his eyes vanished. Taylor managed a quick breath before his lips were on hers. His grip tightened around her wrists as his tongue delved into the darkness of her mouth with a fury borne of the panic he'd experienced the night before. He didn't want to be reminded of it. He didn't like to see her bruises. He swallowed her moan as he plundered her mouth; the softness of her lips, the curves of her body beneath his the only thing soothing his frustration.

She swallowed hard as Josh's mouth moved along her jaw and kissed a fiery trail down the line of her neck. "If this is how you're going to be after every work day..."

He growled again, nipping at the skin just behind her ear. "Not every day involves hand grenades, Taylor."

"No," she let out a breathless laugh. "They don't."

"You'd better not be laughing at me," he muttered against the underside of her jaw.

"Nah," she giggled as his fingers brushed across her side.

He teased the underside of breast, and glanced up, the mischief returning to his glittering blue eyes. "No?"

She squirmed as he toyed with her nipple, tweaking it between his thumb and forefinger. "No."

"You sure?" His mouth lowered to hover over her breast.

"Yes," she huffed impatiently, twisting her wrists against his firm hold.

He raised a brow, "Positive?"

"Josh," she whined, arching her back in hopes of bringing his mouth down where she wanted it.

His tongue darted out to flick the tip of her nipple. She let out a small cry and he pulled away. "I just want to be sure. You're awfully good at your job, and who knows, maybe you're lying to me."

"Goddamnit, Josh!" Taylor shrieked in frustration.

"Now now," he grinned, tracing a lazy design across her chest and stomach. "No one's ever died of frustration before."

Her eyes flashed, "You're going to die of something if you don't get down here right fucking now."

"Die of something?" he chuckled. "Come on, Taylor. You can do better than that."

"You goddamned, mother-fucking, sonuvabitch, ass..." Her tirade cut off in a gasp as his fingers slid over her sleek curls and into her wet folds.

He held his hand perfectly still, watching the lust pool in her eyes. "Did anyone ever tell you that you have a dirty fucking mouth?" He didn't wait for a retort, his mouth descending on hers before she could utter a sound. He took his time, kissing her slowly, methodically possessing her mouth.

He swallowed her moan as he plunged a finger into wet channel. She was so ready that he quickly added a second, letting his thumb brush against her clit. Her hips bucked involuntarily and she writhed beneath him, desperately twisting to free her wrists. He listened to her breathing, nuzzling her neck and pushing her closer to the edge, warping her into nothing but a tense bundle of nerves.

He stopped suddenly, withdrawing his hand to settle himself between her legs. "Josh, please," she whimpered. Taylor groaned as he pressed against her, letting out a frustrated sob when he pulled away again. "Stop teasing me!"

His laugh was deep and possessive and Taylor mewled in vexation as he shifted above her. His lips drew back in a roguish grin and he entered her in one powerful stroke. She gasped, the sensation nearly pushed her over the edge, and wrapped her legs around his waist, drawing him closer, locking her ankles together so he couldn't pull away.

He held himself still, fighting momentarily for control against the heat of her grasping walls. He took a deep, steadying breath and smiled down at the passion he saw in her eyes. It had been too long since he'd seen so much life in her eyes; she looked... happy? Wilson bent his head and kissed her deeply, the reactive clench of her smooth walls sending a shiver down his spine. Then he moved, flexing his hips with well-practiced purpose.

He released her wrists to better brace himself on one elbow, freeing his hand to caress her breast. Taylor gasped and arched into his palm before digging her fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck, dragging his mouth back down to hers and kissing him hard. As his tongue dipped into her mouth, mimicking the rhythm of his thrusts, her hips moved to match his, meeting him with each stroke.

Wilson groaned as she sucked on his tongue. The sensation of her nails running down his spine brought about another shudder and he plunged into her harder, deeper, faster, wringing one sweet cry after another from her lips. For one agonising moment, he didn't think he would last. She was too much, her breasts crushed against his chest, her lips hot and soft beneath his, her hands tangled in his hair or scoring across his shoulders. Then she surprised him, she always surprised him. She cried out his name, her body shuddering beneath his. Her walls clenched around him as he came.

He collapsed on top of her and she found herself grateful for his solid weight, firmly anchoring her in the flood of emotion that washed over her, smothering the tremble in her limbs. "That's for jumping off the building," he muttered into the crook of her neck.

Taylor sucked in a deep breath. "If that's how you plan on punishing me, it's not much of a deterrent." Her lips brushed the side of his neck as her fingers wove into the sweat soaked tips of his hair.

"Don't push me," he grumbled, his arms tightening around her. His lips found hers again, and he kissed her with a lazy satisfaction, resting his forehead against hers when he broke for a quick breath.

She sighed contentedly, her fingers continuing to play with his dark curls. "I think you're going to need another shower."

He laughed, planted a kiss on her lips, and dropped onto his back with a groan. "I'll wash your back if you wash mine."

Taylor giggled and rolled with the encouragement of his arm drawing her to his side. She settled her head on the centre of his chest, "Later." She closed her eyes as his fingers toyed with her hair. "How was New York?"

He cleared his throat. "About as messy as last night. How was dinner?"

"I had lasagne," she smiled. He pinched her butt playfully and she squeaked, pushing herself up onto her elbows to glare at him. He grinned roguishly and she raised a brow. "You know, it's a good thing you're as cute as you think you are," she muttered.

"Cute? I don't think I'd use the word cute, Shorty." His hand slid along the back of her neck and he pulled her mouth down to meet his. His tongue brushed against hers with slow intent and Taylor felt her body clench in response. She made a sound low in her throat somewhere between a moan and a purr that had Josh smiling against her lips. "I think I asked about dinner."

Her teeth dragged lightly on his lower lip. "Do you really want to talk about your sister right now?"

He hooked an arm under her thigh and dumped her onto her back, rolling on top of her with an amused stare. "You're right, I don't think I really want to talk about my sister right now." He dropped his head onto her shoulder and nipped at the skin there, chuckling when she squirmed. "But there is something that's been bugging me. And since I have you here... Like this, I might be so bold as to ask."