C. Paradee - Deep Cover

"I'm not taking your bed. I'll sleep on the couch."

Shelby looked at the couch and then looked up at Kris. "Just how do you think you're going to fit on it?"

"It'll be more comfortable than a lot of places I've slept."

Nodding, Shelby decided to make dinner. They could talk about it later. It didn't make any sense to her for Kris to sleep on the couch. She'd fallen asleep on it more than once and it was just big enough for her. Kris was over half a foot taller than she was.

Shelby walked over to a closet in the alcove by the apartment door and pushed aside her winter coat and a couple of lighter jackets. "You can hang your clothes in here, if you want."

"Thanks." Kris grinned ruefully as she watched Shelby walk into the kitchen. This job was going to be even tougher than she had thought it would be.

An hour later, they finished eating the spaghetti dinner Shelby had prepared and Kris helped her clear the table, placing the dishes in the dishwasher. "That was delicious. You're a good cook."

A slight blush appeared on Shelby's face. "Thanks."

The remainder of the evening passed quickly with Shelby carrying most of the conversation, determined to get the tall woman to relax. Kris felt some of her tension fade as she listened to Shelby chat while she softly petted the kitten that had decided to curl up in her lap, after spending most of the evening on Shelby's.

At eleven Shelby stood up. "I'm beat. I'm going to take a shower and go to bed. I'll put out some towels and a washcloth for you when I'm finished."

Kris nodded and turned off the mute button on the TV. She looked back at Shelby when the analyst called her name. "Yeah?"

"I want to sleep on the couch. There's a small TV in the bedroom you can watch."

"I thought we already settled where we were sleeping?"

"You're not gonna be comfortable on the couch. Why don't you take the bed?"

Kris found it hard to reject the sincere appeal that was evident in both Shelby's voice and on her face. "I won't be able to hear or see enough from the bedroom."

Shelby sighed. "Okay." She had enjoyed Kris's company so much she had almost forgotten why Kris was there.

"Shelby." Kris waited for the analyst to look at her. "Thanks for the offer."

Kris was graced with a smile that warmed her heart. Oh am I in trouble. "Nite."

"Goodnight."

A short time later the lights in the apartment were extinguished as both women entered the dream world.

JEB LOOKED UP in surprise when the doorbell chimed. His wife, Sharon, had gone to bed before the late news started, so he hurried to the door, not wanting her to be awakened. A smile spread across his face when he saw his younger brother through the peephole and he unlocked the door, pulling it open.

"Michael! When did you get back? Come on in." Jeb looked up at his tall brother grinning. Michael was 6'3" with close-cropped nearly black hair. He ruefully acknowledged his brother had gotten the looks in the family. His wife had even commented that Michael could have been a model for the cover of Harlequin romances had he chosen to.

"Hey, Jimbo. Just got back. I decided to take a few days of leave." Michael had actually been in town for two days, but his brother didn't need to know that. "I know it's late, but I couldn't wait to see you. It's been what? Two years?"

"At least. You're staying here, aren't you?"

"I don't want to put you out..."

"You won't be. Hell, the spare bedroom hasn't been used since last time you stayed here. You still on cold loan?"

Jeb had been secretly relieved when Michael had requested to be transferred from field operations to the much safer work of providing technical assistance to allies on their intelligence gathering operations.

"Yeah."

"Want something to drink?"

"How about some of that good scotch you keep hidden." Michael watched his brother prepare their drinks, his thoughts far away. For two years, his life had been a living hell, but for the past six months he'd been laying the groundwork to change that. There were only a few more pieces to put into play, but he needed some information first, and his doting big brother would be a good source.

Jeb looked up at Michael as he handed him a scotch on the rocks. "It's more comfortable in the living room."

A few hours later, Jeb looked at the clock, surprised it was approaching three. "I gotta get a few hours of sleep. You must be tired, too."

"Yeah, I am."

Michael followed his brother out of the living room, turning into the guestroom as Jeb continued on to the master bedroom.

Kris was roused for the third time as her subconscious picked up on a barely discernable noise. Alert now, she listened intently in the dark, silent room, her eyes traversing shapes illuminated only by a sliver of light visible between the drawn drapes. Satisfied there was no cause for alarm, she decided to get up anyway. Her internal clock was uncannily accurate and Kris knew it was close to five, her customary waking time.

The operative quietly made her way to the bathroom, but detoured toward a faint light coming from the bedroom further down the hallway. She stopped in the doorway and gazed at Shelby, the night light in the globe of the lamp next to the bed casting a small beam of light across both the sleeping woman's face and the kitten sleeping next to her on the pillow.

Smiling at the wayward locks of blond hair mussed by sleep and the sheet wrapped around Shelby's middle, she resisted the urge to straighten out the bedding and cover her up, not wanting to wake or frighten her. You look so content. What are you dreaming about? In a self-deprecating moment, Kris was glad it didn't parallel the nightmare visions of her dreams.

She briefly wondered why the nightlight burned. Kris had studied people for years in order to better learn how to blend in with the local populace when on an assignment, and one thing she'd learned over time was that there was usually an underlying reason for each habit a person exhibited.

The operative suddenly felt a surge of protectiveness toward this virtual stranger. Kris backed out of the doorway, unsettled by the intensity of her reaction and struggling to bury the troubling emotion. She was finally able to do so only by forcing her real identity into her mind's eye, and along with it, the distancing she had developed in order to survive.

After a quick detour to the bathroom, Kris entered the kitchen, turning on an overhead light. She saw the tell-tale red light of a timer glowing from the coffee maker on the speckled beige Formica counter and switched it off to start the coffee brewing as she studied the kitchen. The night before, her assessment of the apartment had been general impressions made primarily from a security standpoint. Alone now, she could study the decor unobserved and hopefully gain some insight into her new partner. Kris' analytical mind refuted the justification that her interest was solely professional. With steely resolve she quelled the doubts that plagued her, unwilling to admit any personal curiosity.

Kris scanned the tiny room with an eye trained to notice the smallest details. It was little more than a wide aisle between the dining room and hall, and she decided it would be a tight fit for more than one person at a time. A white refrigerator and stove were centered on one side with a sink and dishwasher on the other, all the appliances surrounded by cupboards. Thinking of Shelby's short stature, Kris opened a cupboard over the refrigerator out of curiosity. She had expected it to be empty, but instead found a cache of cooking herbs and spices. Makes sense. Stuff she probably doesn't use every day.

She looked into the dining room, her eyes skimming the bookcase she had examined the previous night, then turned her attention to a matching bookcase that was filled with more traditional ware of hardback and paperback books. Kris' eyes skipped over the college textbooks and lingered on the other titles, which included quite a variety of reading material ranging from sagas like The Clan of the Cave Bear to thrillers, most notably, Silence of the Lambs . Finishing her perusal, the operative concluded that Shelby's favorite reading material was probably romance and mysteries, but it was difficult to ascertain for sure because of the mishmash of other genres evidenced in the bookcase.