British Virgin Islands

X walked behind Marita as she made her way up the sand covered walkway. The sand below her feet crunched when she walked, and she noticed how very pink the brick path looked in the moonlight. She cast a glance back to X. It had been like torture on the plane, watching his warm lips sip champagne, enjoying the feel of his large fingers caressing her hand. By the time they had landed on the island she was practically throbbing with desire. 

She shifted her gaze forward, "Well, this is us."  She made her way up the painted wood steps of a little white cottage that sat perched above a private beach.  Somehow, unbeknownst to him, the woman had rented a cottage right on the water. The breeze felt invigorating against his skin, and the palm trees that swayed reminded him of a long ago family trip to Hawaii when he was a little boy. His eyes caught on the bright teal fabric of the lounge chairs on the large wooden balcony as Marita opened up the door to the cottage. 

Taking his hand, she pulled him inside, making her way to the window.  She surveyed the view of the waves, opening the window to allow the cool sea breeze to drift into the room. She heard X drop the luggage, before feeling his arms wrap around her waist. "It's beautiful, Mare. Thank you."  He kissed the back of her neck, breathing in the scent of flowers growing just outside. 

She turned to face him, and planted a kiss on his lips, "I'm happy we're here. I didn't think that flight would ever end..." He grinned, his white teeth flashing in the darkness of the room.  She pushed him back towards the bed, feeling a desperate hunger washing over her.  It was only seconds later she was straddling him, stripping of her silk blouse, pressing her lips against his.  He tasted of champagne and sea air, his skin warm to the touch, and she vowed to never forget the sweet sensations of this exact moment. 

She liked to think that this was just animal lust, but she knew that is was more than that. Traincars, viruses,  contaminants, explosions, threats, death...it wasn't just that she wanted him. Right now she needed him. He was hers to claim. Hers to protect. Both of them away from the eyes and claws of the Syndicate, if only for a few blissful days. 

She nipped at his neck, and he let out a throaty laugh, pushing her skirt up around her hips so that he could slip a hand into her panties. She was so wet.  The pooled warmth against his hand made him hard.  The lace of her panties brushed against the back of his hand as he swirled his fingers around her most sensitive spot. Marita's head dropped back, and she let out a gasp, grinding herself against the hardness between her legs. 

He shifted his arms, positioning a hand on each of her hips, and guided her forward until she was straddling his face. A quick tug, and her panties were torn from her, discarded on the cottage floor. She never liked them anyway. The lace had always been too scratchy.

His tongue circled expertly, and she gripped the headboard for support.  Teeth gently nibbled at her before she was sucked into his mouth, each tongue flicker sending her closer to the edge of ecstasy.  Another gasp as she rocked back and forth against his face. Her body had a mind of its own now, and it was everything she could do not to let out a scream as she came.  Her body shook and trembled, and before long she lay in a heap beside him, still panting. 

"I could do that all day," he said into her hair, as he pulled her closer.  

"No arguments here," Marita said before kissing him.  She moved to push away his pants and boxers.  A hand moved along his shaft, squeezing, sliding up and down rhythmically. He was rock hard, and she ran her tongue against his tip a few times before he started thrusting against her lips. He was close, she could tell. 

Marita moved a leg over him, and soon she was lowering herself onto him slowly, gasping as she moved.  She straddled him, now, and began moving her hips in a circle 8, tightening with each turn.  He let out a low groan, thrusting upwards as she gyrated. Soon enough, he was pumping harder, and Marita was bouncing up and down against him. 

"So...close..." she grunted out, as he ground into her. A few more thrusts, and X let out a low growl as he shot into her. Her own body tightened around him, and her waves of pleasure only served to fuel his own orgasm. 

Minutes later the two of them lay intertwined, listening to the waves crashing against the shoreline as they drifted off to sleep. 

The next morning, Marita and X woke up late, a rare luxury after years of setting the alarm seven days a week.  The two of them eventually set off to get breakfast before lounging on the beach all morning.  They had talked about going shopping, seeing the sights, maybe making some cultural stops...but when all was said and done, they didn't move from the beach until the afternoon. The warm sun and cool breeze, all while spending uninterrupted time together, was too much to give up for some paltry activities. The siren's call of peace and simplicity was too powerful for either of them to resist.

Occasionally they would leave the shade of the umbrellas to splash and play in the waves, swimming out a ways before heading back to the beach. X surprised her by suggesting they put together a sand castle that turned out remarkably bad. She wondered if it was because it had been so long since either of them had built one, or maybe they were just artistically challenged.  Still, she had to admit that it was nice to have some childish fun for a while. No pretentious DC galas, or clandestine NY meetings with the Syndicate. Just the simplicity of happiness. Something both of them had far too little of in their daily lives. 

By the time the late afternoon arrived they were famished.  A day of tropical drinks and beach hors d'oeuvres only went so far.  They went back to shower and dress before heading out in search of an early dinner.  The sun was already starting to sink low in the sky, and it cast a rich orange glow across the brilliant blue water.  The wandered down a cobblestone street, stopping in front of an adorable old woman who was selling flowers.  Vibrant reds clashed beautifully against the deep greens and sunny yellows. It was a chaotic web of colour.  X picked up a small bundle of brightly coloured blooms, and paid the woman more than she was asking. Marita smiled when she took the flowers from X, and the two of them continued on hand in hand. 

The sun's gentle rays were fading now as they rounded the corner onto a new path. This one stretched out past sand and bushes, finally ending at a restaurant. A small local place with whitewashed furniture and a brightly painted deck. The food smelled amazing, and it wasn't yet crowded.  They had both grown a bit wary of crowds, so eating at a less populated place was always a treat.  

As they sat across from one another over a candlelit table, Marita couldn't help but ponder if this was what it was like for "normal" couples. If everyday was like a holiday for them.  Sure they likely had their problems, but there were probably no government cover-ups or conspiracies, no smallpox schemes or bullets, no alien invasions that would destroy life on earth...just the two of them having a normal dinner, and talking about their normal days at work...X looked at her over his water glass, "Everything all right, Mare?"

She smiled, nodding, "Just happy. This was nice. This is nice. I wish we could just move here and forget all about work."  

X let out a small chuckle, and shook his head, "The problem is work wouldn't forget about us. Not yet anyway. Someday, Mare. Someday, we retire, maybe right here. Old and grey, but free." 

A small frown touched her lips as she thought of the working years at the Syndicate that still stretched out before her.  X leaned down to meet her eyes, "We have time. We'll retire someday. And nothing wrong with being old and grey. Consider the alternative." 

She smiled, raising her rum punch, "To freedom, no matter how old we may be." 

CSM: Nothing vanishes without a trace...burn it!