Red

No one managed to sleep this morning—not even me. It's past noon as everyone pulls in for breakfast, or brunch if you will, trying to accept the new reality as it is. I stand in the corner of the living room with a coffee mug and a phone in my ear, but my eyes are constantly on Mia who's talking to Kenna and Silver over anything but an important subject.

At least she can smile now, although so feebly that it doesn't touch her tired eyes. She looks pale, quite different from the glowing woman I first saw about seven months ago. She was strong and fierce, but now she's broken somehow. With everything she's gone through, I expected her to reach this point; I just wasn't prepared to face it and I'm not sure how to.

I miss the old her. She was witty, snappy, and so full of life. I wanna bring that back to her if possible, and maybe she's still there deep inside waiting for the moment to pass. I don't know if going back to Portland is the right call for that matter, so I've been thinking of somewhere else. Peace is quiet is all that we need, but maybe having more people around is the key.

I swear I don't know.

"I'm gonna catch my plane in thirty minutes. Will be there in three hours or so," Eliot says over the phone, his voice expectedly languid. "I'll have to make up a story for it. At least no one needs to know what really went down there, don't you think?" He sniffles.

Perhaps he's been brooding. Talk about thick blood in comparison to water. He's still his father's son but I'll be a damn hypocrite to say I'm sorry.

"Do whatever you gotta do," I reply. "But are you sure the guy your father sent was apprehended before he could do the damage?" I'm still concerned about the virus business that sonofabitch began.

How sick was he?

"We're still assessing the damage," Eliot replies. "We got the guy under interrogation as we're speaking, and the briefcase was intact. Well, it's not an easy job to raise this matter without answering to the National security, Red. I'm trying my best and I put everything in the open even if it meant jeopardizing the whole Kingston Group. And I need you to handle the part of our bargain so we can finally close our deal."

I sip my coffee, eyes back to Mia after watching the foggy neighborhood across the road unraveling with faint sunlight barely bursting through the dusky clouds. It's still stormy outside; snow falling heavily by the window. The sooner we leave, the better.

Mia's smile weavers when she looks at me, but all I do is smile back at her playfully as some assurance that all is well.

She's still worried. Every damn time.

"Okay," I breathe, responding to Eliot. "I'll call you once I've agreed with Marlow."

"You still trust that person?" Eliot asks me.

I take a moment to consider. Do I trust Marlow Seyfried after the stunt the pulled last time?

"I only trust the stakes," I answer matter-of-factly. "Everyone has something to lose. All of us."

I know Marlow has his personal interests. If Eliot's speculation about the list of top-notch clients being another important part of the X-File is right, then Marlow and I can have some kind of arrangement so that I can finally finish this mission and move on without another battle to fight.

I need no more fighting.

Marlow Seyfried is a private contractor. He plays for keeps and owes no loyalty to anyone but himself. But one thing is for sure: if he wanted me dead, or to hurt me in any possible way, he'd have found a way to lure me in by now. He still has Sophie Diaz under his radar, which we need to discuss.

I can't add more to Mia's trauma.

This one is on me alone.

"We've located the Bastien family, the only good news of the day," Eliot adds to my question on that. "I hope he can see them soon."

"Me too." I nod, and maybe he's about to land in Portland after refusing to stay one minute longer in this place. "Talk later. I gotta go." I hang up immediately as I watch Mia retreating to our temporary bedroom.

Silver tries to hoist Kenna up but she stubbornly refuses. I walk past them, barely interested in their cat-and-mouse game. All I know is that they fucked this morning—only God knows how she did it with her freshly wounded arm. We heard the sex cries flying from across the hall up to our bedroom.

And then Mia burst into laughter after a long moment of shock and silence on our end upon their noise. Well, it was the first laughter she let out since many, many days ago. It felt like home. Fuck, I wanted it to last when we laid tired on our bed, glued together like worms in winter, barely speaking.

I can't leave her alone. Not again.

Mia

Whatever it is that's going on between Kenna and that tattooed bad boy outside is none of my business, as Red said, but curiosity kills me. How does she know him? Either way, I'm relieved that I haven't lost everyone around me after witnessing Anne going down with two bullets in her head. I try to forget, but I see it again and again.

She was a horrible person who did horrible things with horrible excuses but maybe I could've forgiven her if we had more time. But it doesn't matter now—what's done is done. She chose her path and paid the price. Maybe they can meet again and make it work, she and Patrick. Heaven. Hell. Wherever.

With Kenna, I'm willing to forgive and forget. She risked her life for me and that means a whole lot more than the problem we have. I'll try to understand that getting close to me was part of her job—the job she longer has—even if it hurts like hell knowing our friendship was all staged up like a script and I fell right through it.

We agreed to talk but not today. Certainly not now. I'm still unstable, looking for every chance to be alone and buried under the blanket not to feel anything but Red's warm embrace basking me from behind like the baby in my womb. I'm not ready to face the world, honestly speaking. I'm scared to be out in the open and act like a normal person.

I just want peace. Utter peace of mind.

"Are you okay?" I hear Red shutting the door as I take off his shirt.

Kenna lent me some clothes.

"Yeah." I smile, eyes on the full-size mirror next to the closet occupying one side of the room. "It's my fifteenth week today. Look." I stand sideways, my one hand tucked on my lower abdomen and another over my belly button.

Red stands behind me, his chest against my back. He places his hands above each of mine and kisses my hair.

"How the hell do you keep track?" Red asks; he sounds amazed.

I rest my head on his shoulder, staring at our married reflections in the mirror. "Because it's growing inside me. It keeps me sane," I reply, and it's the only truth.

"Fair enough. We should get you checked by the doctor.... you know, after everything that happened." He's worried and I can't blame him.

I was too. But I know I'm fine.

I just know it.

"Okay, we will," I acquiesce. "But before that, I wanted to tell you something..." I catch a breath and look up at him over my shoulder.

"What is it?" His deep voice rasps through my ears with electrifying waves. As he rubs my lower stomach, teasing the waistband of my legging in the process, some dormant sexual hormones wake. "Tell me," he adds.

"I don't wanna go back to Portland," I confess. Red waits to for me say more; I do want to say more. "I was thinking maybe... Can we just go to Arkansas?"

The rubbing on my very tiny bump stops. I suck in my tummy, for his fingers are now stuck between my skin and the elastic band of my leggings, accidentally or not.

"Arkansas?" He's surprised.

"It's your home, right? You told me." I never forgot. "I've thought of it for so long. I've dreamed of it too. Of where you come from and whether I'd get to see it or not."

I feel his chest heaving up and down as he breathes two even breaths.

"It's a cabin in the woods," he finally says, a bit of humor in his voice, and play fullness in his fingers that resume rubbing my tummy and my bra-covered breasts.

That heat behind to spread on my body, igniting the fire in my blood.

"Oh, yes, I am." I want more of his touch.

I missed all of him.

Gently, Red presses his lips on my neck, impelling my head to fall aside.

"No Tv. No internet," he goes on, still playfully. "Can you handle that?"

I chuckle, shutting my eyes due to other stuff he does to me. "Are you threatening me, Mr. Hunter? Because that's exactly what I need."

More kisses on my jaw, my neck, and down to my shoulder. There comes the throb on my clit. My heart rate accelerates at each caress he plants on my skin; each paw on my nipples. Oh, I'm horny as hell. I want him to take me the way he used to.

"Just stating the facts, Mrs. Hunter," Red says. The name wakes my eyes open, but my labored breath deafens any thought it evokes. "I'll take you to Arkansas, but not now. I have another place in mind."

Curiosity burns within me.

"Where?" I hold his hand, leading it to exactly where I want it to be.

"Home. Where I was born." He peers down to where I've slipped our hands through my underwear, and I tip my head back when he glides a finger across the V-juncture between my thighs.

No shame. He's mine. I'm his.

I let a moan out and there's a knock at the door at the same time.

Fuck! We both glance at the door and laugh because we don't want to stop.

"Payback time?" I suggest.

"Yeah, they robbed our sleep. Let them knock," Red decides.

"Kinky," I remark, getting wetter the more he rubs my clitoris so gently I lose my mind. "God! Yes, like that. Don't stop." I part my legs and my hand cranes the back of his neck for support.

Our lines mingle steadily and whoever has been knocking stops at the last moan I make before Red turns me around so we face each other.

"Take your tights off," he orders, and the fire in his irises is back to blazing flames that drew me to him so dangerously way before I knew him. "Now, woman." He grins wickedly at me, reminding me of what a beast he can be when he wants to.

"You too, Daddy. Clothes off," I return.

He grins again. Oh, I missed him.

I step back and he watches me. I squeeze down my leggings, sashaying my hips slowly without haste, and he takes his clothes quickly, desires and love and lust heavy in our eyes. We're here. We're still here. Together.

He enters me gently once I lay down naked for him. Maybe he's being cautious, maybe just worried that I'm still too fragile to do this, but I feel worshipped that he looks me in the eyes and breathes with me in synch, filling himself slowly into me, then pulls out halfway in a similar fashion.

"More," I whisper, my lips grazing his at each soft ponce he makes.

"Are you sure?" He thrusts me a bit deeper, but the tenderness persists in his gorgeous smile.

"Hell yeah." I wrap my legs around his waist. "Like that."

"Hmm," he groans, catching the pace. I moan louder, digging my nails into his back. "Luckiest dad of the year."

I burst into giggles before muttering, "Shut up, Red."

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A/N: As promised, no more sad stuff. Get ready to blush and laugh and feel the old Mia and Red while healing her slowly. She deserves it, right? So Arkansas or to Grandpa's first?