He drew the collar of his coat tight around his neck as he waited for her to answer the door. He'd rung the bell no more than thirty seconds ago and already he was impatient. It had nothing to do with the elements making him uncomfortable either.

"Who is it?" Her voice was muffled through the door, but he knew it was her. And judging by the sound of her voice he'd more than likely gotten her out of bed.

"It's Agent Broyles."

He stepped back a bit then, allowing her to see through the peephole that it truly was him if she so desired. The sound of the lock being thrown made him glance briefly at the ground by his feet.

"It's late," she said simply.

"May I come in?"

"Has something else happened?"

"No," he said, cautiously. It probably wasn't the right answer to give if he wanted to gain entry into her home. He really had no reason to be here, not work-related anyhow. He'd left his meeting with Nina Sharp and felt unease at the idea that she was going after his latest recruit.

She stepped back surprisingly, drawing the door open so he could enter.

He'd never been here, had no reason to before now. Their paths had crossed, but for the most part their encounters were nothing special. Two agents doing their job, she was a little more tenacious than some agents. Like a dog with a bone, she wouldn't give up at the scent of a problem. He shouldn't complain, it was one of the reasons he selected her for his unit investigating The Pattern.

She smoothed back her hair, tucking some loose strands behind her ear as she shut and locked the door once he'd come in.

"Can I get you something?"

He gave a small smile and shook his head. "No, that's not necessary."

"Okay," she said, back pressed against the door. She clearly had no idea what he was doing there. "Then what…?"

"I don't want you to take Nina Sharp up on her job offer."

She frowned, staring at him as if he had grown a second head. And maybe he had, he certainly wasn't reacting to this bit of news as he would have normally. And that was objectively. Business was just that, and Massive Dynamics was out to increase their profits. Why wouldn't they be interested in someone like Olivia the same as he was?

"I'm sorry? Is there something you're not telling me?"

"You mentioned she'd offered you a job."

"Yeah, I also told you that I told her you were going to give me a raise."

"This I cannot do," he said.

"I know. I'm not in it for the money."

She ran her hands through her hair. He noticed it then. How absolutely tired she looked. He closed the distance between them then, draping an arm around her. His intent had been to offer comfort, perhaps guide her to the couch so she could sit instead of stand there looking as if she was about to collapse.

What he got was her falling into his arms, clinging to him as if he was a life preserver, and she was bouncing about in a violent current. It was unsettling because she was so strong and confident, coming across as if she needed no one. Except, of course, John Scott. He'd suspected that her relationship with her partner extended beyond the office.

He felt her shudder against him and held her tighter. It wasn't something he'd normally do, offer another agent comfort. Then again, he didn't show up at any other agent's door late at night either.

"How long has it been since you slept?"

He'd been mistaken in thinking the tone in her voice was sleep-induced. He'd say now, looking at her, that it was quite the opposite. Fatigue without benefit of sleep to rid her body of the culprit getting the best of her.

"I don't know. Since the storage unit. I just miss him. I never thought I'd say that about anyone."

"It's understandable."

"You knew?"

He nodded simply. He placed his hands on either of her cheeks, tilting her head up so she had to meet his gaze. She wasn't the most beautiful woman he'd ever run across, but she was attractive and intelligent. He saw the determination in her eyes. She wasn't going to breakdown, wasn't going to cry out for help. That was good, because he wasn't sure he knew what to do with a breakdown. It wasn't in him to comfort or soothe.

He did know how to answer need, though. And he read that in her eyes clear enough. She probably never expected him to be the one fulfilling it.

"We shouldn't be doing this," she whispered, as if sensing where his thoughts had gone. Maybe hers were inline with his.

"We're not doing anything."

"You're my boss."

"You think I'm here tonight as your superior?"

"You came here to tell me not to take Massive Dynamics' job offer."

"And who says that was your boss talking?"

Her eyes widened a fraction of an inch. Trained in observing the behaviors of people down to a finger twitch, he noticed it. She licked her lower lip as if searching for the right thing to say.

"I loved him," she whispered.

What was there to say to that? She only thought that she loved him? And the more she thought over recent events the more she would begin to question the sincerity of her emotions. And his.

The man had lied to her, to his employer, to his country. Who knew which side had employed him? Whom he was selling secrets to. He betrayed everything they'd been trained for, that Phillip held to much the same as Olivia Dunham no doubt.

"But he's not here," he said then simply.

They kissed then. He couldn't be sure who initiated it and it really didn't matter. Her lips were soft as the finest silk. The subtle taste of brandy was there, hinting at the fact she'd been having a drink before an attempt to fall asleep.

His body meshed against hers, pressing her into the door as her hands found the lapels of his trench coat. She had them underneath it, encouraging it off in a manner quicker than he thought possible.

His hands sought the bottom of her shirt, lifting it up enough his hands could slide along her abdomen and up. Cupping a breast, which his hand fit around comfortably. It was only now he realized she wore nothing underneath the shirt aside from a pair of panties. He'd assumed she wore shorts under it when she'd answered the door.

She gave a soft groan as he pressed into her and he drew back.

"Am I hurting you?"

"No," she murmured. "Not at all."

He hesitated a moment, unsure if he'd ruined things but she closed the distance between them and began working the buttons on his shirt. Unlike her, he was dressed in all the layers expected of someone being out of their home. So, he gave a soft chuckle at her cry of frustration at finding an undershirt once she'd finished with the buttons.

He didn't think she needed his clothes off just then, and her thoughts seemed to be in sync as she worked the top button and zipper of his pants. He gave a soft curse when she gripped his shaft. Not too hard, but not too gently either, demonstrating she wasn't afraid to touch him but wasn't trying to snap his cock off at the base either.

He'd run a couple of scenarios through his mind on his way over here. None ended with her giving him a hand job while he slid his hand, palm down, under her panties to her clit. And lower. She was already aroused, the evidence coating his fingertips in a sheen of moisture as he parted her folds. He drew his hand away, licking the fingertips clean before putting it back.

Olivia knew she shouldn't be doing this, but she'd been alone with her grief. Phillip Broyles was the first person to come to her house, on his own time. She was pretty sure his visit had nothing to do with John or the anguish still running rampant in her mind. Had the man she'd slept with really loved her? Or had he used her? Had she been part of his plan? He certainly hadn't hesitated in his attempt to run her off the road into an embankment. Hadn't thought twice about killing her more than likely.

So, when Phillip touched her, offering her something she hadn't even realized she was needing she strapped his warmth around her like a life jacket. She should have put a stop to this as soon as he touched her. The look in his eyes told her that he hadn't come here to talk about the Massive Dynamics job offer. And playing cribbage hadn't been on his mind either.

So, why was she pushing his undershirt up and off once she'd gotten rid of the button-up over it? And why was she encouraging him to the floor right in front of her door? What would people say if they knew John hadn't been dead for very long after she'd told him she loved him?

She could blame it on grief, anxiety, sleep deprivation, or any number of legitimate excuses. Fact was, she'd grown curious about Phillip Broyles since John asked her why she'd been the one selected. She saw the glances that he gave her, thinking perhaps she wasn't looking or paying attention. He wasn't the only one with keen observation skills, so she saw them more often than not.

That very curiosity led to her sliding his pants down only enough so his cock sprang free from the confines of them. She ground against him, anxious now in ways she couldn't have imagined before. Her panties were the only thing preventing her from sliding him inside of her. His eyes were closed as she lowered her face to his neck, kissing him there. And down to his chest. Smooth, warm, muscular enough to let a girl know she'd be safe with him.

Olivia wasn't known to take the safer path, she liked to think that was one of the reasons she stood out to Phillip but for tonight it held appeal.

Apparently, she was taking too long because he slid his arms around her waist and rolled them so he was on top of her. Her panties were gone, well not completely, pulled down enough he had full access to her. He was stroking her clit, sliding his fingers between her folds, spreading the evidence of her arousal around generously. She bucked against his hand, wanting more.

She reached for him, cupping him in the palm of her hand, stroking him, circling his tip. She felt the moisture there, knew he was as ready as she was.

And then he was there. His hands firmly planted on the floor at either side of her head, sliding inside of her, stretching her delectably. There was no discomfort despite the quick thrust. She was ready for this, for him. She lifted her hips, kicking the panties off, succeeding only in getting them off one leg but it was enough. She brought her feet up high to his waist so she could feel him even deeper. Because that was what she needed right now.

His mouth closed over one of her nipples and she cried out, louder than she could remember doing so in the past. She wasn't prone to being loud or verbal, but tonight she was. With him she was. He sucked and kissed and stroked her nipples to where they were achingly hard, matching the arousal he was causing between her legs. She was so wet for him, getting wetter with every deep thrust into her.

He pulled back, slipping out of her and she tightened her knee lock around his waist in protest. Until he slid lower, kissing her stomach and finding her clit. She'd never been with a guy willing to go down on her after they'd been inside of her, even if they hadn't already come. It was exciting and she came in record time after he started. He continued, his tongue licking her inside and out. Everywhere he could reach.

He slid inside of her again, hand guiding his thickness into her this time. Fingertips brushed against her other opening once he was inside of her. Accidental or not she had no idea, but it was exciting and she cried out again. He caught on apparently and brought his hand there again, circling the sensitive area there while he thrust inside of her. She felt herself coming again, pressed hard against him on one of his thrusts, drawing his fingertip into her. It wasn't a lot, probably wasn't intentional, not painful and more than enough to send not just her over the edge but Phillip was right there with her.

She lay beneath him. It could have been hours, but she was pretty sure her ass would have gone numb if it had been that long. Foyer floors might be conducive to a quickie, but anything post-coital was probably best moved elsewhere. Except, she wasn't sure he wanted to go elsewhere. She wasn't even sure why he was here.

As if reading her mind, or her body language, he shifted a little, easing the pressure on her back as her hips were still wrapped around him. He had still been inside of her until that movement forced him out and she gave a soft moan at the loss.

"I am trying to be considerate so that you are not sore tomorrow."

"I know," she said, draping an arm over her face. "Thank you."

"Do you want me to go?"

She lifted her arm a little, enough to peer at him though he probably knew she was looking so there was no use hiding it.

"Do you want to…"

"I came here so it stands to reason, no, I do not want to. It is up to you, however."

She laughed then. "No, I don't want you to go." She lifted her arm away then, meeting his gaze straight on.

"I know what this was, Olivia. I will not tell anyone what happened nor will I push for it to happen again."

It sounded so strange to hear him say her name. Certainly, having sex with someone loosened the formality surrounding their relationship.

"Why did you come here tonight?"

"I told you that already."

"You did not come here on your free time to tell me not to take a job offer."

He looked a little embarrassed, she'd never seen that look on his face before. Always, he was cool, calm, and collected. He'd stood out to her for that reason, and obviously others to be chosen for the Homeland Security department's leader.

"To see how you were."

"Why?"

"I figured no one else would."

"You're right."

He stood then, gathering his pants and buttoning them but not bothering with the zipper or to replace his shirt. He leaned down, gathering her into his arms.

"Bedroom?" he asked.

"Through there," she said, pointing down the hallway.

He found his way to the bed without benefit of a light, settling her on the bed. She heard the rustle of his pants, knew they were being removed entirely this time. She had no idea what they were starting, if they were starting anything or if this was just one night he was offering her. She should have been more worried, another relationship like she had with John was doomed to fail even if it didn't end with one of them dying.

He joined her on the bed, naked and apparently not ashamed of that fact. He flicked a button on the nightshirt she wore. It was really just an oversized men's dress shirt. A second button followed. And then a third and another until he could part it, bearing her to him completely. Her panties must be on the floor by the door somewhere, she didn't remember losing them altogether.

He shifted onto his back, drawing her on top of him. He left the rest up to her as far as having sex again, but he was displaying clearly that he was fully ready to go again. She stretched out along the length of him, not bothered in the least by the feel of him pressing hard against her body. His arms went around her then, understanding without her having to say anything what she wanted.

She hadn't had a good night's sleep since it had happened. Tonight, thanks to a bit of brandy, good sex, and safe arms around her she knew she finally would have one.

~The End~

Story ©Susan Matthews/APCKRFAN/PhantomRoses.com