[Room 15, with Michael]

[notinthebook]

 She's got the brand-new bottle of Johnny Walker Blue in one hand when she knocks at the door of Room 15, feeling unaccountably nervous.  

It's not like this is weird, or anything.  It's not like she thinks he'll be unhappy to see her -- or the whiskey.  And she wants to know how the latest mission went, whether there were more crab-monsters involved, or...whatever might be out there.

(But they haven't talked, alone, since her stint as bartender and the fight they'd had, which, in retrospect...she doesn't even remember how it got started, or why.  That feeling of sinking unhappiness is pretty immediately recognizable, though.)

If asked, she might not even be able to say why she's here, aside from the simplest reason she can put in words: she wanted to see him.

I miss you, he'd written, once.

Well, the feeling's mutual.

Comments

[luvs_yogurt]

Michael sighs and takes a long drink of his water as he watches her. It's not fair, he should be fine with leaving it at that - letting her commentary linger. It's what he would have done six months ago. It's what he's always done.

But this time, he sets the bottle down and sits at the foot of the bed with his back to the window - folding his arms across his knees as he considers exactly what he can tell her to make her understand that it's not about changing things.

"I have to be ready," he says slowly, looking down at the plush carpet. After a moment's pause, he pulls the heavy back of money and supplies from Milliways from the floor at the foot of the bed and flips it open.

"Soon after being burned, I was told that it was to 'put me on ice'. This guy, Cowan, apparently wants to make a job offer but I get the impression it's less of an offer and more of a threat. Whoever he is, he's got a lot at stake in this; he's had people killed, blown up buildings and sent people to kill me - trying to get me to agree to a meeting with him."

[notinthebook]

"That seems kind of counter-intuitive."

It doesn't take a genius to figure out that threats like that might get you a meeting, but not the one you want.

Then again, even Michael can be kind of nuts from time to time, so who knows how sturdy the hinges holding this guy to reality really are?

"You think he knows you're here and he'll hit the party?"

[luvs_yogurt]

Michael pulls out the thick file detailing operations... crimes... that they said he was involved in. Somewhat hesitant, he sets it down on the bed in front of her without a word about it. She deserves to know just how deep he already is.

"It's the perfect tactic if you want to remind someone who's in charge. They even went after my mother. These people, whoever they are, don't mess around."

He's quiet for a long moment, waiting for her to judge him, to judge the situation he's in - and then he puts his mind back to the immediate future.

"I don't think so. But if I don't meet with them soon he's going to do something drastic. And if I do meet with him, there's a very real chance I won't walk away."

[notinthebook]

She glances at the file, lashes flicking smoothly down, then up again without reaching for it, or making any other movement aside from a slight narrowing of her eyes, or clasping one hand loosely in the other around her knees.

"I'm guessing I don't want to know what would be more drastic than setting off bombs and going after your mom." It's quiet, studying him in the dim light from the streetlights below.

"But it doesn't sound like you have much of a choice. Have you decided what you're gonna do?"

[luvs_yogurt]

She already knows, of course, that it could only get worse. After a long, uncomfortable silence, he can't even look at her when he says; "I have to meet him. Soon."

He shrugs, rolling his shoulders forward as he lets out a soft sigh; "After this job, I promised a friend of mine I'd help him move some cattle - it might give me some time to clear my head. But after that, I've got to put an end to this before anyone else gets hurt."

[notinthebook]

She should really focus on that last part, considering it's the one that's been eating away at him, dragging him out of bed in the middle of the night and coloring everything he does, here, but her still-dopey brain snags like a fish on a hook at the bit in the middle, crumpling her face into confusion.

"I'm sorry. Did you say you were moving cattle? You're a cowboy now, too? I'm confused."

Michael is the epitome of a city boy, and yeah, she guesses he was probably living pretty rough in the Middle East, but...the suits, and the shades, and the military haircut, and...well, all of him.

It's a bizarre mental image, to say the least.

[luvs_yogurt]

At least she has a way of momentarily pulling his mind away from the situation - it's better than nothing.

The barest hint of a smile crosses his lips and he nods; "Yeah, I've been training with a horse and learning how to rope over the last week or so." From anyone else it'd be sarcastic, but it's the truth - and he's pretty sure she believes it. "The Evans boys know what they're doing, I'm going to be there for more of an extra set of hands and in case there's trouble."

[notinthebook]

"Well," she says, a little at a loss. "That's very Clint Eastwood of you."

Man, Milliways. You get the weirdest crossovers there. Personally, she thinks it seems like a pretty bad idea to go on a goddamn cattle drive when you've only just learned how to ride, but what the hell does she know about cattle or driving them or roping or riding or any of that stuff? Not a damn thing.

"I hope there's no...stampede? I guess? What kind of trouble can come from a cattle drive? My brain keeps getting stuck on Oregon Trail, so, like, don't...get dysentery and then try to cross a river, or whatever."

[luvs_yogurt]

He shakes his head and lets himself laugh under his breath, not sure what exactly the Oregon Trail has to do with it since they'll be in Arizona, but he's not about to ask either. Hey, he was out of school by the time they let kids use computers.

"I'll be fine, Emma. Believe me - that sort of thing are the least of my worries right now."

Considering he's already made the assumption there's only a 50/50 chance he'll be alive the next time he's in Miami and they're sitting on enough cocaine to land both of them in prison, his priorities are a little different. "I'm pretty sure Arizona's about the safest place for me."

[notinthebook]

"Really? In the list of places you could go where you won't get attacked or blown up or shot or implicated in some horrifying crime, Arizona is the best one you can come up with? I mean, I guess that's true, but it seems a little excessive."

Not like she's got anything against Arizona. She's passed through it once or twice. It just seems like a strange place for his head to go. Arizona? Cattle drives?

Okay, the guy's under a lot of pressure. It's not like she wouldn't expect him to crack in a couple of spots.

"Well, I hope you have fun. Watch out for your boots and sleeping bags, I hear scorpions get into everything out there."

[luvs_yogurt]

He doesn't have the heart to tell her there are very powerful people on more than one continent that tell stories about him, or that he deserves at least one of them.

"It'll be nice to not have to worry, how much trouble can I really get into in the old west? Maybe a stage coach robbery or uppity steer? I think I'll be all right." He chuckles under his breath, but the humor's still leaked away; "As many years as I've spent in the Middle East and Africa, I've seen bugs that scare me a hell of a lot more than a scorpion."

[notinthebook]

"You?"

She gives him her most dubious look, a little dozy still, and actually, okay, kind of maybe sort of a little fond.

The guy is crazy, but who's she to talk about anyone's sanity and make any kind of call? Besides, doesn't that make her even crazier, coming out here with him.

"Hey." She leans forward, a little smile tugging at her mouth. "Bring back a cowboy hat. I would pay money to see that shit."

[luvs_yogurt]

Again, she manages draw that unexpected smile out of him and he nods; "For you? I'll wear it to bed." He mirrors her gentle lean and presses a warm kiss against her lips.

Maybe it'll be okay, at least in way, he's got more to survive for than ever.

"Emma..." he breathes against her lips; "I'm sorry I'm so... you know. The way I am."

[notinthebook]

"Yeah," she says, after a second, where her hand ends up sliding to the side of his neck, and she licks her bottom lip, that quirk of a smile tugging even further at the corner of her mouth, "you're a handful. It's a good thing I'm such a responsible adult. Someone should stay out of trouble."

She leans in again, a breath from his lips, when her eyes open, thoughtfully, before a laugh comes in a gust of breath.

"No, wait, that's not right."

What is, though, is another kiss, and a tug at the back of his neck.

[luvs_yogurt]

"Well, between the two of us..." he kisses her again, pushing further until he's crouched over her - pressing warm, sleepy kisses one after another to her soft lips.

"You're definitely the least likely to be in trouble."

Which isn't saying much - he's had more time to learn the tricks and make a life out of being in trouble... she's just more of an amateur trouble maker.

[notinthebook]

"I am definitely the least likely to have government agents after me," she agrees, "which is not necessarily something I could boast before."

It's distracted, though, because Michael is pushing her towards the pillows, and her hand is sliding down the muscles bunching and smoothing along his back, fingernails scraping gently.

"But I have to say, from here? Trouble's not looking so bad."

This has never been anything but a bad idea, but that's hard to remember when he's warm and close and keeps pressing kisses to her mouth, when he'd thought of her and wanted her around. Like she could actually help, which is a new one for her. Fingers thread through clipped brown hair, slide around to the back of his head.

[luvs_yogurt]

"Stick around long enough, you might even make accomplice status," he teases, kissing her again as he simply drinks in the wholly welcome sensations all over again. Part of him can't help but think he shouldn't, that every time he lets himself get this close the chances of it ending badly only rise.

But he's never been known to back down from bad odds.

Come morning, they're still knotted together - his arms and legs wrapped around her soft curves from behind as he holds her close enough to feel the push of her shallow sleep-breaths as he presses small kisses over her bare shoulder.

It's well into daylight, but they've still got several hours before they have to get ready for the party and while part of him doesn't want to move from their bed, how many chances is he going to have to try and talk her hitting the beachfront bar for an early lunch and a little more of that precious time to feel like something other than a guy she knows.

[notinthebook]

This is not something she should, can, or will let herself get used to, but she has to admit she likes the kisses he presses to her lips, following the tease like air she's breathing in, and she likes how it feels when he crawls back in beside her, all loose and lazy, and she likes waking up with the sun shining over the sheets, and his arms slipped around her, their legs a tangled mess she's way too sleepy to try and escape from.

Why bother? What would be the point? There's nowhere to go and nowhere else she'd rather be.

Definitely not at home, looking forward to another day of cool silence at the office.

"Hey."

It's all sleep-heavy and loose, eyes sliding halfway open as she stretches slightly, pushes back in his arms to feel his solid chest against her back. "I wouldn't have pegged you for sleeping in."

It's nice, though. Definitely preferable to another midnight chat.

[luvs_yogurt]

He lets out a shallow groan and squeezes her tightly again; "Mmmm, usually I'm not but I had a bit of a late night." He chuckles dryly and adds; "I've got a good reason to sleep late."

And he means it, even if he hadn't slept, which he had and it felt pretty amazing, he'd have gladly stayed in bed with her until she was ready to get up and start the day.

"I'm thinking brunch... maybe a walk on the beach?"

[notinthebook]

"Oh yeah?"

Her mouth is doing that thing again, that thing where her lips are pressing together and the corners are pressing up and she can feel a laugh trying to bubble up, which is ridiculous but entirely undeniable.

"I thought you weren't a fan of the beach."

She's teasing again, too, which is a whole lot more than she'd thought she'd be up for this soon after waking up, but brunch...brunch sounds good and the beach is tempting, after the brisk days in Storybrooke.

Summer there lasts, what, like a week? Jeez.

[luvs_yogurt]

He sighs as he stretches out his legs and manages to squeeze even tighter.

"M'not... but I'm a fan of getting you to smile and if that takes walking in the sand barefoot, I'm sure I can manage the horrible burden."

He can't help smiling into her soft skin as he finds a soft place to kiss. He's not used to being happy, not when it's all so fleeting and can be gone in an instant. Still, as much as it terrifies him, he is happy. For the first time he can remember since things were good with Fiona back in Ireland... when he was a different man, he feels generally happy.

[notinthebook]

That squeeze makes her laugh and try to pull away, and, yeah, she's not trying all that hard, really, it's just part of the game that she finds herself, oddly enough, playing with him.

Which is nuts. Mary Margaret would definitely think so. She would probably look pretty askance at the idea of Michael being playful, and it's not like she'd be likely to think Emma has much of a capacity for it, either.

"Okay," she says, archly suspicious, and she's about to follow it up with what's the catch? before she remembers Graham and the donuts and swallows it with a bitter twist in her stomach. "I guess it'd be a hell of a shame to miss out on actually wearing a bathing suit, considering Bar packed me one."

[luvs_yogurt]

He laughs, a genuine though soft sound that he doesn't hear nearly enough these days, and lets her fight away from him before rolling with her until she's on her back on top of him.

"I'm pretty sure the only bathing suits I can pick up here come in the 'very small usually on a tourist' version - but I can work with that." He pushes up against her, letting her awkwardly squirm against him. "Unless you had other plans."

[notinthebook]

"Oh, please," she says, grinning, arms folding across his chest. Her hair falls in a golden tangle over one shoulder, and she's thinking a shower is definitely in order before they do anything else at all.

"A banana hammock and a dress in the same day? I would almost pay money to see you embarrass yourself like that."

There's a tip of her head towards the bathroom. "My only plans involve a shower, since candlelit baths involving champagne don't exactly do much for getting clean, but then..."

Leaning down, she presses a kiss to his lips, grins before coming back up. "We'll hit this place up, tourist-style. Minus the awful bathing suit. Deal?"

[luvs_yogurt]

Nuzzling into her hair, Michael manages a nod and slowly unwraps his arms from around her - letting her up with the caveat of her warm kiss making him just want to draw her back down for more.

"I'd offer to join you, but I'm pretty sure that wouldn't do wonders for cleanliness either."

He sighs, but then relaxes back against the pillows; "I'll catch the next one and we can do whatever you want, this is your time, Emma. Just me and you and whatever Miami Beach has to offer."