Kidnapped By A Spy

Chapter 29..

Third Person POV..

Dravon slowly opened his eyes and immediately became aware of Treakle's body resting on his bare chest. He contemplated just laying there with her until she woke up naturally, but thought better of it. Today was "mission day" and focus was the top priority. He gently nudged her head and whispered coos to wake her up. But she was still fast asleep.

"Miranda wake up!" he yelled sitting up and pushing her off.

Treakle awoke with a start, searching through her sleep for the disturbance. She looked up at Dravon and moaned. "Two more minutes!"

Laughing at her cower under a pillow, Dravon stood up and walked to the duffel bag that had all his clothes. He pulled out some tight-baggy dark wash jeans and a random band tee. Walking to Treakle's bag he picked out an outfit for her as well.

"If you don't get up in two seconds I'll be forced to dress you," he said with a devious grin.

She pulled the pillow back so her eyes were visible, "In that case, I'll take five more minutes."

They both laughed and Dravon tossed her the clothes. "We're going to miss ourboat if you don't hurry. I'm going to take a quick shower then we'll go get something to eat."

Sitting Indian style on the bed Treakle replied, "Oh, so I guess I just have to walk around all smelly. Do I get to shower?"

He shot her a sarcastic look that his alias, Edmund, wouldn't have replied with. "Fine, after my manly five minute shower, I'll go get some food while you take your girly hour long shower."

"Deal." Treakle beamed up at him.

He took one last lingering glance before escaping into the bathroom.

Examining the jeans and shirt Dravon picked out for her, Treakle began reminiscing on yesterday. It was as if they finally put aside all their anger towards each other and realized how much they loved each other. Well, then again, did Treakle really love him? Surely to somewhat degree. If she kept rethinking her mission it must mean she had some strong ties. Or she was just a pitiful spy who was gullible and got attached to her targets like a silly school girl.

With a sigh she stood up and went to her bag, putting the outfit back and grabbing a sundress. It was just a plain turquoise one with a small bow tying in the back. But it was Miranda's favorite dress.

Just as Treakle was walking back to the bed to get a few more minutes of sleep Dravon walked out in nothing but a towel. He wasn't wearing his facial grafts so it was 100% him. It shocked Treakle how hard her heart hammered in her chest just at the sight of his toned chest. There were a few lingering water beads that were caught in the groves of his abdomen, making his body shimmer when the sunlight hit him.

When he was three steps out it seemed Dravon realized he was partially dressed in front of Treakle. "Oh, uh, I forgot my boxers." He self-consciously mumbled while quickly grabbing his undergarment and rushing back into the bathroom.

Wow, Treakle thought to herself as she fell onto the bed, if I don't love him I can at least love that body.

She replayed the image of him walking out half nude twenty times. When Dravon came out fully dressed, and with Edmund's skin grafts on, she'd be lying if she said she wasn't immensely disappointed.

"Well," he coughed uncomfortably, "I'll just pop down to the Spar and pick up some egg and bacon sandwiches. Hopefully you'll be done by then, yeah?"

Treakle sat up and nodded, noting the way he wouldn't look her in the eyes. Was it really that big of a deal? If she had looked at his chest last night instead of his marked-up back he wouldn't be acting like this. Why all the embarrassment?

When the door closed behind him Treakle jumped up and ran into the shower, determined to finish before he got back.

......§......

Treakle couldn't get the body graft off as it was basically glued to her skin. So she resorted to just rinsing off any lingering dirt with soap and washing her own hair. It felt so good to let her hair out of the wig and let shampoo lather her roots. However she didn't have the luxury of taking a nice long shower if she wanted to prove Dravon wrong. Not all girls took girly hour-long showers. She slowly stepped out of the tub to avoid slipping and wrapped a towel around her body. Once she was completely dry she slid into the sundress and wrapped her hair into a bun and placed the wig over it. Satisfied with her speedy shower Treakle smiled at herself in the mirror and flounced into the bedroom noting Dravon's lack of presence.

As soon as she sat back on the bed, the second her bottom touched the duvet blanket, the room phone rang. Assuming it was Charlie calling to make sure she was alright while Dravon was gone (as he had done whenever Dravon left); she answered with the most reassuring, yet annoyed tone she could muster.

"Yes?"

There was heavy, strained breathing on the other line.

Treakle's heart quickened, just a little. Not enough to be scared, just enough that she was anxious.

"Who is this?" Not Charlie. Not Charlie. She said over and over in her head as a mantra.

Not Charlie.

"Treakle?" The voice asked. It was definitely male. But it wasn't the male voice she was used to. This voice was obviously scared and hurt. It hitched halfway through her name and she could tell the voice was crying.

"No, this is not she. I'm sorry; I think you have the wrong number." In her mind she raced through the sentence, but she actually said it in a very calm manner.

"Treakle, baby, I know it's you. Please..." the voice begged.

Suddenly the voice became familiar and her heart ached. Tears welled in her eyes, but she refused to believe it was him on the line. It couldn't possibly be her father.

"Sir, I'm sorry, but I think you have the wrong number. Goodbye." She pulled the phone away from her head two inches when a gut wrenching shout exploded from the small speaker.

"Damn-it Treakle I know it's you! Quit playing these damn games. It's me! Your dad! I'm in trouble," he paused to let out a weak sob. Treakle found herself caressing the phone with vain hope he could feel her comfort. "Baby, please, be careful...around him."

Instantly she knew who he meant. Dravon, her mind spat venomously, that asshole-fucking-bastard. She cursed his existence.

"He...he betrayed me. I thought I could trust him... I thought the rumors weren't true." Her father cried into the phone, "Please, when you go on the mission today, stay away from him!"

A faint voice shouted something in the background, causing her father to gasp.

"Please baby," he pleaded again, "He's coming for you!"

"Rech, you son of a bitch!" Treakle heard the voice clearer now it was closer to the phone. She heard a loud clash of bone on bone. Refusing to witness this auditory torture she hung up.

A knock sounded just as the phone hit the cradle.

The door slowly opened and Dravon peaked his head through with his eyes closed. "You decent?"

"Yes" she replied wiping away all traces of her previous conversation. Including the disgust that bubbled in her throat.

......§......

Dravon opened his eyes and smiled at his beautiful partner. She wore a gorgeous sundress and had her hair in a graceful ponytail.

"I think we should just eat on our way to the castle, yeah? Save time," he said placing the bag of food on the end table. He walked to Treakle, pulled her, gently, off the bed and slipped his arms around her. They nuzzled into each other and Dravon tried to catch what she kept saying into his chest. It sounded like Not Charlie but why would she be saying that?

Not Charlie. Not Charlie. Not Charlie.

Not. Charlie.

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