“Why me?”

Michelle’s voice floated through the closed door of the ladies room and knowing they were alone and that she couldn’t see him until she opened the door, Cho felt safe enough to let a smile cross his face. It didn’t reach his voice though - he wasn’t crazy and Michelle was the living embodiement of the phrase “Thought she be but little, she is fierce.”

“Come on, Vega,” he said, sticking to her surname like they always did on the job. “If you haven’t had to dress up as part of one of Jane’s crazy schemes, are you even a member of the team?”

“Easy for you to say.” Her voice was tart. “I bet he’s never had you dress up in a bandage dress and hooker shoes.”

Cho leaned back against the wall, crossed his arms over his chest. “Well, there was that one time in California, but we don’t talk about that.”

There was a moment of silence where Cho could practically see her mouth opening and closing as she tried to make sense of that. When she spoke, her tone matched the vision exactly. “Wait, seriously?”

“No.” She really was too easy to fool, even after almost a year of working together.

He heard the faintest chuckle. “Not funny, Cho.”

“I thought it was.”

“Again...” From the other side of the door, he heard the distinctive clack of a pair of heels and he straightened himself up automatically as the door cracked open. “Easy for you to sa- Hey!” Her voice rose in surprise as he pushed her back into the ladies room. Sure, they were alone in the office but someone could come back and there was no way that he was letting anyone else see her like that. “What the hell?” She was indignant now but he didn’t care.

“You are not going out there like that.”

She’d called it a bandage dress which, for some reason, had made him think white. Instead, all he could see was red, which, considering there wasn’t much to be seen, was a fairly impressive feat. Fairly painted on, it dipped low in front, exposing her cleavage, and as for the length... well it could charitably be described as a belt. Long slender legs ended with a pair of heels she had aptly described only minutes before, rendering her level with him in height and that gave him the perfect view of her eyes and whatever the hell she’d done to them with her makeup to make them stand out like they did. Her hair was loose around her shoulders, gentle curls at the ends, her lips the same red as the dress, initially slack with shock before drawing up into a pout.

Which did not help with his dilemma of whether he should rip that dress off her and put her back into her sensible FBI pantsuits, or rip the dress off her, push her back against the wall and let nature take its course.

Then Michelle spoke, actually throwing up her hands and option two was off the table. “What happened to ‘If you haven’t had to dress up for one of Jane’s crazy schemes, are you even a member of this team?’”

“I was wrong. We’ll find another way.”

“Cho, if you think I can’t do this-” Michelle narrowed her eyes and he knew that look. That was her gearing up for a fight look.

“I know you can handle yourself,” he snapped. “It’s who else will be handling you that I’m worried about.”

Her mouth dropped open again, then almost instantly curled up in a knowing smile. No, he amended instantly. Not knowing.

Satisfied.

“Kimball Cho.” His name was a purr on her lips. “Are you jealous?”

“Yes.” There was no point denying it, not when she knew the truth.

“I’ll make you a deal.” Her hands found the lapels of his shirt, smoothed them down carefully and he cursed, not for the first time, the fact that being the boss meant he couldn’t go out on missions as often as he had in the past. “I’ll come home safe. And...” She leaned in close, her lips just touching his ear. He shivered and her eyes sparkled with delight. “I won’t change before I do.”

With that, she sailed past him in a blur of attitude and perfume, leaving him looking after her, his mouth dry. “Make sure you do.”

Thank you!

I am so working that into a Cho/Vega story! Watch this space!

"Why me?" Desmond asked looking up at the ceiling of the studio beeschlingly.

"What are you pissing and moaning about now?" Jimmy asked as he walked into the studio with two cups of coffee.

"Falling in lust with a sappy romantic," Desmond quickly retorted after a few sips of coffee. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Jimmy said sharply. He wasn't a morning person even with half a pot of coffee flowing through his veins. "And there certainly wasn't anything overly romantic about what we did last night."

"I wasn't commenting about that," Desmond countered as he set down his coffee and picked up the song sheet off the piano. "I was commenting about this."

"I'm not having this discussion with you again," Jimmy muttered as he grabbed the song sheet, balled it up and threw it toward the trash can. "Happy now?"

"It's a good song. You didn't have to throw it away," Desmond said as he walked over and picked it up off the floor. "I was just razzing you about it."

"Really?" Jimmy snarked. "I hadn't noticed."

"You truly aren't a morning person, are you?" Desmond observed. He unravelled the song sheet and flatened it out on top of the piano.

"We've been dating for how long and you are just figuring that out?" was Jimmy's snide remark.

"Not sure what we've been doing could be considered dating," Desmond said trying not to be bother by Jimmy's snide tone, but not succeeding.

"Fine," Jimmy sighed. "Call it fucking if it makes you sleep better."

"Stop it, James," Desmond snapped. "I'm not going to get drawn into a senseless argument because you are too juvenille to tolerate a little teasing in the morning."

Jimmy opened his mouth to refute Desmond's statement and nothing came out. His lover was right. He was being a childish asshole and he needed to get over himself. "I'm sorry. I'm an asshole."

"Yes, you are," Desmond agreed. "But that's not why you are so touchy about this song."

"I wrote it for you," James quietly admitted "And, I guess I'm overly paranoid about being in love with you because this is the first time I have truly felt like I was in love and not just lust."

Desmond walked over and pulled Jimmy into a loose embrace. "Forget your previous lovers," he told him. "They didn't know the precious gift they had been given. I do."

"Who's the romantic sap now?" Jimmy teased knowing exactly what it would get him.

"Shut up," Desmond muttered before dipping his head and taking Jimmy's mouth in a passionate kiss.

Thanks. Very true. Still early in their relationship.

Jimmy has his days. Good thing Des has the patience of a saint.

Thanks.

In the millhouse she felt isolated from the world, unharassed by the daily reminders of someone she wanted not to think about, someone she believed, for the most part, she was ready to be over and done with

It was precisely that matter that forced her to leave John asleep on the floor, snoring and thus not suffering much, it seemed, form his injuries from last night. There was an appointment with Murdock she could not miss, some questions to answer, some forms to reviews, some form or other to sign, another step taken towards the inevitable divorce. After last night, she was ready to do as Carl wanted, speed this nonsense up and get it over with. As Clan Mates, he might not yet be entirely out of her life, but she was ready to conceded to the defeat of this failed marriage and do her best to move on.

She did not intend to ever marry again.

She refused to ask ‘why me’. Life happened. Shit happened. The world went on. There were children and family who needed her, and she’d be damned if Carl, or any man, was going to get the better of her.

Yeah...this particular marriage is like a trainwreck lol

It was her policy to never feel sorry for herself however, sometimes, she couldn’t help it.

Husband number one turned out to be a domestic terrorist.

Husband number two ended up being an emotional assassin.

Her sometime lover dealt arms on the side and was wanted by Homeland Security for many, many reasons.

Occasionally, Ali wondered why she bothered to even try. Blake had given her two good things – the children she was raising, despite one not being hers – but that was about it. Timothé hadn’t given her anything but Paulo.

And Paulo, well, he shouldn’t be giving her anything. Especially since the last time she checked, he had been banned from entering the US. Not that that had ever stopped him but…

“Cén fáth,” she muttered. “Why me,” she repeated in English when Rory gave her a crazy look. “And stop giving me those eyes, kid,” she said, hating how much he looked like his father, hating herself so much more for wishing he hadn’t been such a douche in the end.

It was probably for the best that she didn’t have time to dwell on all the crap she’d had thrown at her over the years. Otherwise, she might never dig herself out of that hole. But for now, she had kids to care for, feed, and raise into better human beings than the ones she’d known in the past.

“Okay, you two nuts, time for bed,” she said, lifting Rayna off the floor and carrying her towards the bedroom.

With a groan, Rory took his toy truck and put it with the others, not wanting to end the day quite yet. Ali laughed, he was so much like his dad sometimes. Thankfully, he was too young to exhibit any of Blake’s bad traits. And if she had her way, he’d never have a chance to adopt any of them.

But that was a task for another time.

Thank you! And not that anyone cares, Ali was my first original character, originating back to my 4th grade self. LOL

Yeah, that sounds about the right age. What can I say, she's too stubborn to leave. LOL But I like having her around, too. :)