neverwrongagent | We all fall down

Entry tags:

brody,
rp

We all fall down

Carrie would remember the next few days as some of the best of her life. She was living with a man she was more comfortable with than she could have imagined, working together for a common goal. Even the visit with his kids went well. She gave him most of Saturday with just them, showing up at dinner time with pizza and cookies. They played board games and chased around her little house until it was time for him to take them back. Then it all went to hell.

They finally found evidence that Walker had met someone on one of his random seeming runs around the District. Before they could act on it, a series of small bombs took out three Metro buses as they approached the city center. A half dozen people were killed, twice that were injured. Had it been one bomb, it would have been bad enough, but three in a concert was particularly frightening for the city. It also put CIA on high alert. The work they'd been doing before was nothing compared to the sudden anger and frustration everyone showed. Plenty of people looked at Brody, and Carrie, as though they'd done something wrong. Brody should have come forward sooner. Carrie shouldn't have trusted him so much. Maybe if they'd come up for air this wouldn't have happened.

Carrie though all that and more, although she never really blamed Brody. At least, not any more than she blamed any of them for missing it. They'd messed up, not gotten to the answer fast enough. For her, everything else fell away. The work was everything and she spent as many hours as she was allowed at work. She had to be shoehorned out of the building to go home and rest, but when she was there she didn't sleep. She only ate when someone put food in front of her. This was the Carrie Brody had never seen, that her family worried about, that Carrie held on a tight leash.

She paced her dining platform, looking at the notes and schedules she had posted to her wall, sure she was still missing something crucial. She had music playing, the kind of jazz that normally settled her, but it wasn't doing shit and she could feel her skin start to crawl, but she had to work, had to figure out where they'd gone wrong.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

His answer to that was to reach between them to get his pants open. Her pants would have to come off if she wanted to keep facing him. His kiss was hard, rough and nipping.

She did those calculations quickly, gasping at his kiss and at how fast her belly tightened for him. Included in her thinking was what they'd need to do if anyone decided to come looking for them. As such, she turned in his arms, trying to get her own pants open so all they had to do was push them down. "Fuck. Need you."

He helped her get turned around and pulled her pants down. He was on her right afterward, wrapping his arm around her waist and pressing into her. He muffled his groan against her shirt, his eyes squeezing shut.

She had to grab the pillow and stuff it against her mouth to keep from screaming. She was going to feel this for a good while after because no matter how ready her mind was, the body didn't adjust that quickly even when it wanted to. It was everything she wanted.

Her hips came up to meet his, grinding her hard against him. She felt more full than she was used to, almost overwhelmingly so.

He wasted no time in moving against her. They were going to both feel this. Likely they'd both come hobbling out of the bedroom. He smirked at that idea and moved to whisper how good she felt in her ear.

She nodded forcefully, her agreement absolute even if she couldn't form words yet. It took her a few more thrusts before she could manage that. She lifted her head just enough to get air, then started begging him to give her more. The suddenness canceled out some of her natural filters and she told him honestly how badly she needed him. Every word was raw.

She didn't realize it was partly a plea for him to be careful, to come back to her when their operation was over.

He nodded as he moved. He couldn't argue a single point she made. He had to stop talking just to move with her, to enjoy every bit of her. He could feel his climax racing up on her and he tried to give her some kind of warning, even as he slammed harder into her.

She didn't need his warning. Tightly joined as they were, she could feel the way he swelled inside her and how his hips moved. They'd been lovers long enough for her to recognize the signs even as she twisted to get what she needed to match him. She whimpered something that was hopefully an affirmative to let him know she was right with him.

He pressed his teeth against her shoulder to quiet his cry as he came. He slammed into her as he emptied, trying to give her all he had. This had to hold both of them over.

Her face went back against the pillow, smothering her cry almost as effectively as his attempts. She clutched tightly around him, holding him deep while her own release milked him. She wanted every bit of him she could get. Her hand found one of his, her fingers lacing between his, and she nearly sobbed.

He managed to not collapse on her, barely, before dragging her onto her side so he could hold her against his chest. Since he was still behind her, he just kept whispering in her ear. "I'll come back. I promise."

Hearing him say it so baldly brought on the real sob and she closed her eyes tightly. "You fucking better, Marine. If I promised to stick, you have to." They were a part of each other now.

He nodded, then hugged her tighter. "Yes, ma'am." He knew they were going to have to move soon, to get on with things, but he wasn't ready to let go of her yet.

She didn't think she could let him go yet. Her body still twitched around him. Squeezing his hand and closing her core even harder around him, she nodded firmly. "Remember that."

There was no way he was going to forget it. He was going to use it to pull him through. "You, too."

She nodded firmly again, then closed her eyes and let him hold her. They didn't have a lot more time together. She was going to use the last of that time to remember every feeling and smell. She even wanted to record the sound of his labored breathing in her memory.

He panted softly in her ear, his eyes closed. He didn't want to say anything else, for fear that they might try to talk each other out of what he was going to do. This way was better, this quiet.

If there was anything real about what they were doing with each other, it had to include real respect for each other and the work they did. That was one more good reason for them not to say a word now and maybe try to stop this. She brought his hand up to her lips, lightly kissing his knuckles. "And no more scars."

He laughed softly at that. "No promises. But I'll do my damnedest." He nuzzled into her neck and sighed softly as he finally slipped from her.

It was the best answer she could hope for. Groaning, she turned so she could kiss him firmly, sealing their promises. There wasn't anything left to do after that, so she pulled away slowly to put herself back together.

He stayed in bed another few moments, then got up himself and pulled himself back together. He let her leave the room first, then scrubbed his face with his hands before venturing back out into the chaos.

After a few more words to the team, Carrie started the longest two days she remembered having in a long time. She went home to wash up and try and get some actual rest, which worked about as well as could be expected. Finally she packed a bag and headed back to work. A full twenty four hours was spent going over every file they had that might reveal anything about the intended target.

When the time came to gather at the meeting place, Carrie was back to her edgy, restless self, constantly checking with everyone that they were in place, that they were thinking of all the things she would think of. Of course, no one could do that, so she was cranky.

Brody spent the hours he had preparing himself, mostly mentally. He did make his pt, but his heart wasn't in it.

And when the meeting time arrived, he was so keyed in, he looked almost insane. Which was probably exactly what Walker wanted.

Carrie knew if she could just touch him, once, they'd both be doing much better. They'd have to work something out about that, down the line. She'd only ever seen him that hyper vigilant right after his rescue. Behind her there was an ongoing conversation about if he would hold up, if he would crack. She tuned them out in favor of working with the young FBI agent, Atwell.

In the end, it wasn't Walker who showed up. Instead an older white man in a crisp suit first walked past Brody to speak to a child with his puppy. When the child was gone, he turned back to Brody and greeted him by name.

The surveillance went nuts as everyone searched their information to figure out who he was. Atwell came up with something first and when he did, Carrie swore intensely.

If he and Carrie could have touched, that might have made things better. And the conversations about him were well justified. He wasn't sure he was going to go through with it, right up until he was greeted.

He swallowed hard and bowed his head slightly in answer.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject