Narrator's POV
June 1991

Mickey came bursting into the chapel, still catching her breath after chasing down her perpetrator who took off in a car. A million things were going through her mind at the reality of the criminal escaping, but she knew exactly where he was headed: Springfield, Virginia.

After explaining the situation to Fuller, he said, "call the station over in Springfield and let them know that Robert Bowles is on his way. They should be able to take it from there."

"Okay," Mickey said and sat at her desk. She quickly grabbed the phone and called the Springfield Police Department and someone promptly answered.

"Springfield Police Department," he said in a gruff voice.

"This is Officer Michelle Gregg with the Jump Street Precinct of Metropolis, Evergreen State, and we have reason to belive that Robert Bowles is on his way to Springfield. He is a drug cartel, and he is armed and very dangerous."

He was silent for a moment before he said, "I'm going to have to transfer you to one of our higher ups."

"All right," Mickey said. She drummed her fingers on the desk as she waited. She suppressed her frustration of the mission to only focus on getting it out of her hands.

She only had to wait a few moments before the sound of ringing filled the receiver. Her call was transferred and another man answered. She was transferred to the Drug Enforcement Administration.

"This is Officer Michelle Gregg from the Jump Street Precinct in Metropolis, Evergreen State, and I'm calling to inform you about Robert Bowles. He's a drug cartel and he is armed and extremely dangerous. He's on his way to Springfield now," she repeated.

The man on the other side of the phone was silent for a moment before he cleared his throat and said in a deep voice, "we will get right on that, Officer. Thank you for calling."

Relieved that this was now out of her hands, Mickey hung up and relaxed back in her chair. She closed her eyes to admire the feeling of not doing the paperwork that she was going to have to do for this assignment, before she sat up and began typing.

At the DEA's office, Tom Hanson was sitting in his office, and he slowly hung up the phone and leaned back in his chair. He rubbed his finger against his lips and scratched his chin. He was in a daze after hearing Mickey's voice, and he tried to imagine exactly what she was doing at that moment. He quickly snapped back into work mode, and ordered his men around to prepare to arrest Bowles.

Tom suddenly got an idea, so he quickly called the chapel and disguised his voice when Fuller answered. He ordered, "I need Officer Michelle Gregg in Springfield immediately."

"Why?" Fuller asked, unknowingly talking to Tom.

"She can properly identify the suspect," Tom reasoned. "We will have an undercover officer at the airport to pick her up and take her to the sting operation."

Fuller didn't have a choice but to agree. He called Mickey to his office and sent her on the first flight to Springfield.

Mickey spent the flight reviewing the case, but wished she had continuous communication with Springfield so she knew what she was getting herself into. Bowles was based in Springfield, so they knew more about him than she did. She finally had to accept that she was going to be thrown into it, and she was going to have to roll with the punches.

The five hour plane flight was smooth and landed in Springfield right on time. Mickey had her little overnight bag with her and she began to walk through the airport, and finally found a man holding a sign that said "Michelle Gregg".

Mickey gripped her bag in her hand and walked right up to him. She greeted him and told him that she was Michelle.

The man was indeed undercover, because Mickey could see the lifted edge of the black wig the department made him wear. His face was covered by ginormous sunglasses, and he sported a wispy blonde mustache and a bit of stubble on his chin. She was surprised that they would give him such a poor disguise.

Officer Parron welcomed her and they began walking to the car. Once they got outside, Mickey asked, "you just need me to identify the suspect?"

"We have also heard the good work you do for Metro. We thought we could use you," he said.

Mickey chuckled, "by who?"

"Thomas Hanson."

"Tom?" She asked. Her heart beat a little faster at his name. She nearly forgot that she was going to be working alongside his department, and she hoped she would be able to see him again. "Is he joining us?"

Officer Perron shook his head, "no. He is preoccupied with an assignment on the other side of the country."

Mickey sighed but accepted it. With their luck, it was no surprise that it wasn't going to work out. How do they always find themselves on opposite sides of the nation?

There was no time to rest. They jumped into the car and Perron drove quickly to where the sting operation was going to take place. Mickey met with one of the administrators that was running the case, Bonner. He was sworn in as the DEA administrator the previous August, and he was debriefing everyone as the sting was setting up. He gave Mickey a bullet proof vest to wear over her maroon crew-neck sweatshirt for protection, as well as a little ear piece so she could hear him communicate with her and the other officers.

They parked, and Mickey placed her hand on her hip to feel for her gun. She ran her fingers through her fluffy hair, wishing she brought a hair tie with her to pull it back.

Officers came out of hiding and lined up against the wall of the warehouse building. Mickey and Perron joined, and they stated their desire to send Mickey in with a wire. That was until someone came by with a normal looking watch and put it on her right wrist while explaining that it's a hidden microphone.

"Will they recognize you from Metro?" She was asked by one of the other officers.

Mickey considered it thoughtfully but then said, "no, I don't think so. I know his face, but he doesn't know mine."

Mickey was forced to take off her bullet proof vest when Bonner came by again and decided that she couldn't wear it without arising suspicion. Mickey didn't really mind, because she knew that she would be surrounded by people who were going to protect her. To put her at ease, Bonner said, "don't forget, we have you wired, so we will be with you every second."

"Okay, thank you," Mickey said.

Bonner spoke into his walkie, "can you hear me?"

Mickey could hear his voice in her ear as the tiny earpiece transmitted his words through the walkie. She nodded, and said, "yes, sir. I can hear you."

"Perfect," Bonner said and walked off to give more direction.

Mickey's attention was grabbed when Perron introduced her to another officer who was going to go in with her.

"This is Officer Hampton. He's been going undercover with these guys for months. The dealers trust him, which will work in your favor. If this is indeed Bowles, you need to work the code-word, 'meatballs' into conversation, all right?" Perron said.

"Got it," Mickey reassured. She thought it was a strange word to use, and had to think of a way she could say it organically.

Mickey looked at Officer Hampton as she handed Perron her bullet proof vest and gun. Hampton also wore a wig, put on much cleaner than Perron's, a dark long sleeve thermal with a ripped up jean jacket over it and some words tattooed across his chest that poked out of the neck of the shirt. It was normal for officers to wear sunglasses to go undercover, to hide their face, and drug dealers do the same thing for the same reason so it fit the cover well. He handed Mickey a pair of sunglasses too, and they walked right into the warehouse, while the sting operation was still setting up outside.

The dealers immediately spotted the two newcomers and marched up to them. They welcomed her by patting her down, but they were unable to detect that her analog watch was basically a wire.

"Who's this?" One of them asked.

"This is my girl, Michelle Gibson," Hampton introduced her.

"Hey, gorgeous. You guys down for a deal? Boss-man's here, and we are just waiting for the suppliers."

"Who's your boss?" Mickey asked.

The dealer looked her up and down before he gestured to a man yelling at another on the other side of the empty warehouse. "Kip, over there."

Mickey's eyes followed his finger and hearing his name caused concern, since it wasn't the same name. But she squinted at him and when he got closer, she realized it was the same guy. She would recognize the craters on his face anywhere, and those black eyes that stared right through her soul.

The drug dealer then pulled out a vial of their drug and a needle, and a rubber hose.

"What's that?" Hampton asked in his forced gritty voice.

"Your friend here is gonna need to shoot up before anything goes down," he said.

Mickey's eyebrows shot up and she looked down at the drug he was offering her. It's one thing to pretend to take drugs with dumb high schoolers, but it was another to do it with real hardened drug dealers.

"Sorry, Paul, but she doesn't do needles. She's too uptight. I'll be happy to do it," Hampton said and reached over to grab the drug.

Paul quickly pulled out his gun and pointed it at Hampton. He cocked the gun and said, "I trust you, man, but I can't trust her until she shoots up."

"I'm too uptight?" Mickey asked, turning to Hampton with her eyebrows raised. She could feel her heart pounding in her throat, but tried not to seem the tiniest bit nervous about a gun being waved in their faces. It's not the first time, and probably not the last.

"Please, if I stuck a lump of coal up your ass, in two weeks, I'd have a diamond!" Hampton snapped.

This conversation started to cause an audience of the drug dealers. They started to surround the cops, with their guns drawn and pocketknives ready.

Mickey's jaw dropped slightly and she knew she had to say the code-word soon. She said, "you wouldn't even be in this business if it wasn't for me!"

"Oh yeah? Well, at least I can take a needle!"

Their bickering brought a bit of light to cast on Mickey's heart. It reminded her of when her and Tom had to pretend to fight in front of a bunch of drug dealers while the rest of their team was closing in on them. This déjà vu made her feel nostalgic, but her face remained composed.

"I have a phobia of needles and you know it!"

"I knew—I knew you'd cave like a little bitch."

"You take that back," Mickey hissed.

"I ought to take you out. Two of my hitmen are dead and I will not tolerate any more failure."

"You are such a meathead!" Mickey shouted.

"A meathead?! Really?!" His voice rose the more he got offended.

"Your brain is nothing but a slimy little meatball. And I personally can't wait to see what you'll do next," she spat.

One of the drug dealers quipped, "is that code for a sex thing?"

Everyone was waiting for that code-word. Every entrance of the warehouse was suddenly filled with DEA officers with their guns drawn.

"What are we gonna do?" Hampton asked, playing along.

"We're gonna jump on their asses," Mickey said with a smile tugging her lips.

Bowles frantically looked around and scoffed, "they tricked us."

Hampton nodded and smirked. "That's improv, bitch."

The drug dealers were not going to give up without a fight. A few fires were shot, which resulted in a couple of the dealers getting shot down. This included one dealer who quickly figured out that Mickey was a cop and tried to exact revenge by threatening her with a knife. She fought against him without the use of a gun. The blade went through her sweatshirt, cutting her arm.

Bowles got cornered and eventually restrained. Every drug dealer was arrested as well, and were slowly being taken out of the room. Mickey was completely relieved, and tried to shake the sharp pain out of her arm. She's been in plenty of dangerous situations, but the fact that she was in a sting operation with the DEA made her nervous but excited.

"Are you ready to go, Officer?" She heard behind her.

She looked back at her temporary partner as everyone else filtered out. Mickey smiled at him briefly, just happy to be done. He reminded her of Tom, but had to remind herself that he wasn't even in Virginia.

"Yeah, I'm ready," Mickey said and focused on taking off her watch. When she looked back up at the Officer, his sunglasses were off and he pulled off his wig. He revealed himself to be Tom.

Happiness eluded out of Mickey like a waterfall. She dropped the watch to the ground and covered her mouth with her hands. No amount of time can change the way she feels about this man. The butterflies came back to her stomach in a way that they haven't in a long time. He witnessed her reaction and laughed, scratching his chin and turning away for just a moment.

"Tom!" Mickey exclaimed and ran into his open arms. When she realized she was looking at Tom, all she saw was the love they had for each other. They embraced each other, neither one wished to let go. He was trying to soak up as much of her as he could before he gently set her back down. "I thought you were on the other side of the country."

"Nope," he chuckled down at her softly. Tom used the ruse to bring Mickey to Springfield. It was the only way he could see her again without risk of breaking his contract and losing his job. "Five years is too long. I needed to see you."

His hands held her arms and he squeezed her tighter. All she felt was love when he touched her. Even after all this time, he is still the one she loves. "I can't believe it."

He saw her arm and pulled away to ask, "who did this to you?"

"Who do you think?"

"I'll kill him."

"I think you already did," she said, peering down at one of the bodies in the warehouse.

He gazed into her eyes. He took another step closer, closing any space that was between them. His fingers reached up and grazed past her cheek, pushing her tousled hair out of her face. Mickey's heart was working overtime, and she could feel her heart beat in her throat.

"Oh, Mick, I missed you more than life," he said with his voice low. He wanted to pull her into a kiss and never let go, while Mickey's focus was dedicated to his deep brown eyes. Eyes so powerful, they represent the earthquakes that bring mountains to their knees. Their faces were inches apart, both slowly falling victim to the other.

Their tension broke when one of the other officers came up to the duo. Tom and Mickey both took a step back, going back to being professional. He said, "great work, officers. Hanson, let's get you back to the precinct. I just need your signature. I need yours too, Officer Gregg."

They both agreed, as if they had another choice. Only a few moments later, Bonner was in their ears again. "Bowles has some hostages at Almshouse."

Tom's eyes widened. He looked at Mickey with confusion as he brought his wrist up to his lips to speak into his watch, "Almshouse, sir?"

"I want all units available for this rescue."

"10-4," Tom said and looked up at Mickey. He asked, "want to secure some hostages, hotshot?"

Mickey nodded, her expression was now frozen as she tried to figure out why Bowles would have hostages. Tom went back to his watch and said, "Officer Gregg and I will join."

With a few other agents, the team hopped in a full sized black SUV and drove to the Almshouse with sirens blaring. Every light turned green for them, and every car pulled over as they sped past.

Almshouse is an empty house in Greene County, just an hour away from Springfield. In the late 1800s, it was a general poorhouse where residents worked on the farmland the house resided on, taking care of the livestock, vegetable gardens, and the fruit orchards. In the 1930s, Illinois shifted their welfare program which made the almshouse no longer needed. Just a month prior it became listed on the National Register of Historic Places.

"What's the Almshouse?" Mickey asked as they bounced down the road, trying to get to the house as quickly as possible.

"It's an abandoned house, so local police have had a few busts there," Tom explained. Then he asked into his watch, "how many hostages do we have, sir?"

"I'll let you know," Bonner said back.

The team drove to the house while Bonner was interviewing Bowles. Bowles has been on Bonner's radar for years, and now he had the chance to really pick his brain. He had already arrested Bowles's brother years ago, and had killed him during the arrest. Ever since then, Bowles had wanted Bonner to hurt.

In the interview room, Bonner was interrogating Bowles to give up more information about his hostages. Who were they? Why were they taken? How long had he had them? These were questions that Bowles refused to answer, and Bonner could tell that he was just trying to stall and avoid the questions.

Bonner called Bowles out when he noticed that Bowles kept looking down at his watch. His hands were in his lap, due to being handcuffed to the heavy metal table. Bonner asked, "why are you looking at the clock? You got somewhere to be?"

Bowles ignored the administrator and just kept his eyes on his own watch. In the same exact moment that Tom kicked down the locked door to bust into the abandoned home, Bowles looked up at Bonner and said, "it had been one hour."

Bonner wasn't amused. He shrugged and said, "so?"

"So, in just a few minutes your team is going into the Almshouse."

"They are probably in there right now, releasing your hostages."

Bowles grinned manically, it made the hair on the back of Bonner's neck stand up straight. "Are you sure about that?"

The color drained out of Bonner's face when he realized it was a trap. He quickly pulled his walkie out of his pocket and tried desperately to communicate with his team. "Hanson! Hanson! Get out of there! Now! Now!"

There was no answer. No static of an attempt that told Bonner that anyone could hear him. His hands got clammy and his breathing deepened as he tried to calm himself.

Bowles laughed cynically. "They won't answer, and they're never going to answer. As soon as they stepped into that house, they were dead."

Bonner slammed his hand on the table right in front of Bowles. He barked, "you son of a bitch!"

"Let's just hope the bomb severed their nerves so they don't feel the acid," Bowles hissed. "Hope you're ready to attend eight funerals next weekend."

"I am going to personally see to it that you receive the death penalty. I will be right there at your execution so my face is the last that you will see. And just before they administer the drug that will stop your heart, I am going to lean in real close and tell you to say hi to your scumbag, low life, failure of a brother for me."

Bowles lunged at Bonner, but the handcuffs that were attached to the metal table forced him back into his chair. Bonner glared at Bowles as he stormed out of the room, trying desperately to get a hold of his team and ordering for back up to be sent straight to the house, hoping it wasn't too late.

Meanwhile, the DEA team was stealthily combing through the house. Guns drawn, trying to find the missing hostages. Tom was leading the pack, with Mickey right behind him. The house was dark, silent, and eerie. It smelled musty of mold and mildew, as well as cat urine and rotten eggs. This was a stench that Tom and the other DEA agents were used to, being that homemade meth-houses have that odor lingering, but Officer Mickey was far less used to it and was trying to hold her breath while they were in the house.

Tom carefully opened the door to one of the bedrooms and scanned the room. All he saw was a burned up yellow mattress that was half hanging off the metal bed frame, exposing the rusty metal springs and old dirty clothes thrown around on the floor. Broken glass and needles littered the floor, making him grimace internally. He was momentarily distracted when he heard Bonner's crackling voice attempt to talk to him in his ear piece.

"Bonner? Bonner, repeat. I can't hear you," Tom said.

All he could make out from Bonner's frantic plea was "—bomb! Get out— now!"

Tom heard a soft beep in the room, making his blood freeze. He knew they all had to get out of there. He wasted no time to shout at everyone, "abort! Bomb!"

The entire DEA team started to run out the front door. Almost everyone had left the house, but Mickey and Tom were deep in the house and no where close to the front door. In that moment, the bomb went off. It shook the house, and Mickey could feel heat biting at the skin of her ankles and her arms. Tom grabbed Mickey's arm and pulled her behind a wall while fire engulfed where she had just been standing. He held her close as she covered her face and he surveyed the area until he saw a moment where they could escape. They bursted out the front door, just moments before acid started raining down inside the house through the old pipes.

"Everyone make it?" Tom asked breathlessly. Everyone was looking around, and thankfully no one was missing. Tom slowly walked up to Mickey and asked, "are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she promised. She put her hands on her hips and glanced back at the house, watching parts of the roof collapse and black smoke escape into the air.

"Your arm is bleeding," he said.

Mickey looked down at her bleeding arm. "It's from the warehouse, I promise."

Tom managed to get into contact with Bonner, alerting him of the bomb and the acid, but promising that there were no injuries or fatalities. Through Bonner's explanation, they learned that Bowles never had any hostages in the house, he just wanted to see how many agents he could kill at once.

Fire trucks and ambulances arrived on the scene, as well as a few more agents that were sent there to alert the team of the trap. EMT checked over everyone that had gone into the house, and gave everyone a clean bill of health. Firefighters were quick to calm the fire, and the agents told them about the raining acid.

When the team's job was done at the almshouse, the team was packed back into the SUV and driven back to the DEA precinct. It was Mickey's first time there, and she immediately noticed that it was a lot larger than the chapel and had a lot more people working there. They also had lots of individual offices.

After Tom and Mickey signed a document for the arrest of the drug dealers and filled out their reports regarding the almshouse, Tom turned to her. There was a fire burning in his blood when he looked at her, his eyes dropped to her mouth, and his face was full of desire and hunger for only her. When he got lost in her hazel eyes, it reminded him of a beautiful sunrise. A small grin tugged his lips as he was reminded of how much he adored her, entranced by the flakes of green and gold that shined brightly under the fluorescents.

"Would you like to see my office?" Tom asked, gesturing towards the nearby door as they stood in the DEA precinct. "I've got bandages in there."

"Yeah, sure. Thank you."

They walked side by side to his door, Tom barely taking a moment to take his eyes off of her to find the doorknob. He groped for the doorknob gently and finally found it and let the door swung open. As soon as Mickey walked through, he shut the door with the eyes of his peers burning into his soul. He caught the gaze of them again through the window, then he shut the blinds.

Mickey was admiring Tom's desk full of papers, work, and pencils as Tom watched her from behind. His eagerness for her became too much to bare, and he knew that she felt the same for him. Tom grabbed Mickey's arm and spun her around. He gave no warning before he gave her a sweet yet scorching kiss on her lips. "It's about time," was all Mickey could think. Shivers exploded down her spine at his touch.

Mickey stumbled back until he had her pressed up against his desk, feeling like a young cop again. Their lips danced together in perfect synch, which caused mutual explosions in their hearts. Mickey put her hands on Tom's hips and pulled him close to her.

Tom felt Mickey's arms wrap around his neck. His hands found her hips, and she pulled back to get some air. Tom took the opportunity to breathe out near her ear, "god, I want you. I missed you so much."

Tom's eyes briefly shot down at the tear in Mickey's sweatshirt, where blood trickled and stained the edge of the frayed strings. He couldn't imagine how much that probably hurt, and took a step back. He headed to a cabinet he had and opened it to pull out his First Aid kit.

His eyes darted to his desk, and he used his arm to push some of his stuff to the side so Mickey could sit on the surface. She felt his hands trickle down her torso and get a firm grip of her waist. He held her there for a bit before he smoothly lifted her up onto the desk.

"Take your sweatshirt off," he ordered and opened up his kit.

Mickey obliged to his order. He could hear a symphony play in his head as he watched her get undressed. To distract himself, he used his teeth to rip open an alcohol wipe so he could clean her cut.

Mickey took her sweatshirt off, leaving just her black lace bra on that Tom had always loved. He leaned down slightly to hold her arm still as he used the wipe to clean the blood, and the cut. She watched Tom's face carefully to distract her from what his hands were doing. 

Mickey winced slightly, and fought against herself from jolting her arm back.

"You okay?" Tom asked in a caring manner.

Mickey nodded. "Yeah. Sorry. Just stings."

"I'm almost done," Tom said in a delicate voice. When he was done, he tossed the bloody wipe in the garbage. He inspected the cut for a moment before he said, "I don't think you'll need stitches. But I'll wrap it up."

Tom grabbed a few bandaids to stick over the cut, then wrapped white gauze around her upper arm and used white athletic tape to keep it secure.

"Thank you," Mickey said which pulled one side of Tom's face up in a half smile.

Being alone for the first time in a year created a tension between them that could be cut with a knife. Tom stepped to the side and used his arms to wipe every trace of everything off of the surface. He let his computer monitor crash down to the floor, followed by his full tin of pencils, his name plate, and copious amounts of case files and loose papers. Tom had an uncontrollable urge to be with her.

"Oh my god," Mickey laughed, which was silenced by Tom bringing his lips back to Mickey's feverishly. She was more than happy to fall into it. She cupped her hands around his sculpted face and continued to kiss him deeply.

Mickey didn't let another second pass by before she slipped her hands down to Tom's jean vest collar and pulled him in. A soft chuckle gravitated from deep in his throat, to projecting a smile during their kiss. It was like déjà vu.

Mickey slowly leaned down to her back, and Tom followed her. His knees found a home of either side of her on the table. His cologne gave off the effect of a sweet, dewy citrus. Crisp and clean, it reminded Mickey of freshly washed linen sheets flapping in the wind. He dipped down and pressed his lips to hers. Tom felt her thighs slide apart as he settled his body against hers. Both officers were breathless. But then, someone knocked on the door.

Tom groaned and let his head hang in frustration. "What?!"

Mickey giggled softly from Tom's obvious annoyance and placed her cool hands on either side of his face to bring his head back to her and she gifted him her lips.

Tom closed his eyes and let his lips attach to hers, just as the officer on the other side of the door said, "Hanson, I need your signature for this file."

Mickey let her head rest down on the desk, and Tom opened his eyes and gave her an annoyed look. He said in low hoarse voice, "how about this, we sneak out the back and I take you to my place."

He put his feet back down on the floor as Mickey sat up and he reached into another cabinet to grab her a fresh shirt of his. He didn't want her to have to put in a torn and bloody sweatshirt. She buttoned up the shirt respectfully. "The back?"

Tom's eyes gravitated to the large vent in the top corner of his office, and Mickey followed his eyes. She shot back at him, "I am not going to crawl through that vent."

"Yes, you will," he said and offered her his hand.

With no other choice, she rolled her eyes and took it. She slipped off the desk and over to the corner of the room. Tom squatted down and prepared to pick her up as she said, "I'm not going to enjoy this."

"I'll be right there," he promised. He knew that he was going to enjoy this.

He wrapped his arms around her thighs and stood up, making her giggle from getting startled. He held her close as she ripped the vent down, then he pushed her up further until she could slither into the hole.

They worked together to get the vent cover back up before she crawled out all the way until she hit the outdoors while Tom was dealing with his colleague, hot and bothered.

Mickey got out of the vent and dusted herself off as she waited for Tom to emerge from the vent as well. That was until she heard him clear his throat behind her.

She quickly turned around and he grinned at her cockily.

"Where'd you come from?" She asked.

He gestured toward the nearby door.

"Why didn't you tell me about the door?" She asked.

"I just wanted to see you climb through a vent at least once."

She smirked at him sarcastically. "Satisfied?"

Tom's sarcastic smile morphed into an expression of yearning when it fully registered that Mickey was truly in front of him. He croaked out, "not yet."

They walked together to his car, and Mickey felt nostalgic over the fact that it was the same car Tom had owned for years. It was his fathers car. A car she learned how to drive stick in, and one that she has been completely vulnerable in. Many pure and golden memories were attached to that car. Being back in it, was like going back in time.

Tom now has a home. A nice home, which made Mickey wonder if he shared his home with anyone else. A passing glance at his ring finger showed no visible sign of a wedding ring, which made her glow inside.

There was no time for a home tour. The amount of time they had spent apart was much too unbearable. At their first chance, they sprung to each other with such force that neither of them have felt in years. There was a gravitational pull that brought their lips together, and there wasn't anything strong enough to pull them apart.

The first article of clothing that popped off was Tom's frayed jean vest. He was no longer his cover, which he called McQuaid, a joke beteeen him and Doug Penhall. Now he was just Tom. And Tom was all he wanted to be in that moment.

Mickey pushed back on Tom with as much force as he was putting on her, trusting him whole heartedly. He swung the front door shut behind them without looking, because his eyes were closed. His warm hands traced up her torso gently before grabbing hold of the white shirt she wore of his. He had no patience for the buttons, so he grabbed either side of the fabric and ripped it open, sending buttons flying around the room.

The shirt joined the vest on the floor. Mickey's skin prickled with goosebumps as Tom's hands traced the trail they've traveled along so many years ago. Deeming it unfair that she was now only clad in her jeans and a black lace bra, she influenced Tom to take his own shirt off too. Her fingers pulled slightly at the hem, helping him slip it off his body and add it to their growing pile. She welcomed him back by letting her hand get tangled in his brown hair, pulling gently.

Tom took the opportunity to lift Mickey onto his dining table, and place one of his hands on her knee as he stood between her legs. Her hands found his face, while his slowly traveled up her covered thigh, and finally found its home on her ass. In a single move, he pulled her to his hips, where she latched on with her legs wrapped around his waist. Her hands got busy messing around his long fluffy hair, and their lips were fighting each other. There was something about the way she moved that attracted him like nothing else.

Tom slipped his lips down her body, bringing heat to her jaw, neck, breasts, and stomach. His hands gripped her thigh and slipped down her leg, bringing her jeans along with him. By drinking the honey inside her hive, he had the joy of rediscovering her. He touched her and kissed her as if he was starving himself for her, like he had been fasting since the last time they were together.

Tom grabbed a hold of her and slipped her off the table. There was no talking as he used only muscle memory to blindly walk through his living room and kick open his bedroom door. Once he was confident that his knees hit his mattress, he threw Mickey like a rag doll onto the bed.

He crawled up over her and a gentle laugh growled in his throat as he brought his lips down onto hers. His hand found her throat, where he lightly squeezed the sides, and Mickey could feel the cold metal of his rings against her skin. Her back arched, wondering how she was away from him for so long, and how she could possibly survive without seeing him again for nine more years.

Tom hovered over Mickey's body, and she tried to control her breathing as her bellybutton sunk to her spine. Tom's dark eyes burned into Mickey's, his inviting lips parted softly as he internally fought with himself. Before he knew it, he pressed his lips against hers again. Mickey's eyes drifted shut as their mouths moved together, as if they had never been apart. His hand buried itself in her hair, while Mickey's heart was beating faster with every second that passed.

Skin to skin contact was what both Mickey and Tom had been craving since they last saw each other. They both still loved each other so much, they couldn't stand to be apart for one more day. And when she put her arms around him, she was letting him know that there's nothing in this world he can't do. Tom wanted to make up for the time they were apart, proving to Mickey how much he missed her. Even though they haven't seen each other in a year, just thinking about her drove him wild, making him feel young again. She fell for him, and he caught her with the promise that he would never let her go again.

"Michelle..." he said in an alluring whisper, which started a fire in her veins.

"I don't want to miss you tonight, or ever again," Mickey whispered back as Tom breathlessly came up for air. He looked down at Mickey adoringly.

"Stay the night," Tom suggested. "I want to hold you close. Tonight and always."

It didn't take much more convincing for Mickey to agree to stay the night. She had a flight scheduled for the next morning anyways, so she had no responsibilities to take care of.

Tom had no control over himself when it came to Mickey. His desire for her was on fire. His eyes were intense as he focused on her. He mumbled. "I still love you so damn much, it hurts."

Hearing Tom proclaim his love for her drove Mickey crazy. They pushed and pulled against each other like a magnet. Mickey kept Tom guessing, which made him desire her all the more. His throat was humming with soft moans. They felt like they had forever. His love for her made him so weak, he couldn't take it anymore. He brought his lips to hers and their tongues influenced each other in a loyal dance. His back was beginning to sting, but it was his favorite feeling. Her freckled shoulders pressed down to the mattress, allowing the white comforter to bunch at her ears.

Tom's lips slowly slipped from Mickey's and he began his trail of kisses down her jaw, creating marks of where his mouth was up and down her neck. She tilted her jaw up with a slight giggle to give Tom full access, showing him how much she trusts him. She slipped her hands up into his soft brown hair, making it just a little messier to bring out the McQuaid in him.

The trust that Tom and Mickey had for one another had not diminished, even after forced into no contact. It was as if they started back up where they left off. She bent her knees up just enough to give Tom permission to fill her with himself.

There was no time to be gentle. Their time together was scarce, so Tom entered her but still wanted to take his time. The quick grinding of his hips allowed them both to enjoy each other. Mickey gripped the bedsheets in her hands, letting small gasps escape her lips with each movement. Tom studied Mickey's face, providing a beautiful invitation for him to keep going.

When they finished, Tom fell to Mickey's side and allowed himself to exhale into the pillow. His wild, long, fluffy hair covered his glistening forehead. Mickey looked up at the ceiling, the feeling of ecstasy was pulsing through her veins. He made her feel like a natural woman.

Tom wrapped his arm around Mickey's bare stomach and pulled her closer. He admired the freckles on her back like stars in the night sky. Both were giving off heat like heaters, but sleeping in his arms was the only thing Mickey wanted in that moment.

"Are you okay?" Tom asked gently as he cuddled her. He played with her hair and gently massaged her scalp, wishing this moment would never end.

"Mhm," Mickey hummed.

Tom slipped out of the bed, which made Mickey roll over and watch him walk out of the room. She looked up at the ceiling and sighed softly. She bent one of her knees, making the bedsheet slip off her leg. It draped over her body like a delicate marble statue.

Tom came back with two mugs of hot chocolate and some snacks. Mickey's face broke out into a smile as he climbed into bed and handed her one of the mugs. He dropped the snacks between them, and she sat up against his headboard.

"You made us hot chocolate?" She asked softly. Her mug had marshmallows and whipped cream, her two favorite toppings.

Tom gave her a forehead kiss before settling down in bed. He took a sip of it and said, "of course. I know you love it."

Mickey has always adored the aftercare that Tom provides after intimacy. Whether it be getting her hot chocolate or tea, snacks, cuddling, kisses, or cleaning her up with a warm towel, she always feels cared for and loved. She returns the favor by stroking his hair and his back.

When their hot chocolates were gone and the snacks had been eaten, Tom put them on his nightstand and pulled Mickey into him once more. He wrapped her up in a blanket when he noticed she was getting cold, and she snuggled into him.

Their shared desire of reckless behavior created a safe place where they both lost their fears for the night. A place that is nothing but pure, dirty, and raw turned into their paradise. There was no place they would rather be.

The soft songs of blue birds were muffled from the closed windows. Dark shades kept the morning sunlight out, but little flutters in the fabric let the sunshine in. The sunbeams flickered in Mickey's eyes, causing her to stir for a moment before she turned her head. Her eyes slowly fluttered open, and Tom was already looking at her. His gaze was intense as he studied her features adoringly. He got to fall in love with her all over again.

Half of her drowsy face was pressed into her pristine pillow and she grabbed a sheet and brought it up closer to her chin. She smiled drowsily at Tom and mumbled, "good morning."

"Good morning," Tom said in his raspy morning voice. He had only been awake for a few minutes, but he loved watching Mickey sleep. She looked so beautiful as she slept, and he thought she was even more beautiful since the last time he saw her.

"How did you sleep?" She asked out of habit. The mere memory of the night before sent her heart into a beating frenzy.

"Better now that you're here. I miss waking up next to you," he said. Tom felt wonderful because he saw the love light shine in her eyes, and the wonder of it all is that she doesn't realize just how much he still loves her. He put his hand on the dip of her waist, gently exploring her curves. "It seems like it was just yesterday when we first met. Funny how time slips away. It took us a lifetime to find each other. You were worth the wait, but I don't want to lose you again."

Mickey pulled one of her arms free from the tangled sheets and dragged her finger up and down Tom's bare arm. Her light touch sent shivers of pleasure down his body. More tattoos stained his skin, but in a way that made him all the more attractive to her. A smile pulled the sides of her lips willingly, her love for him expressed in her smile. She could still feel her love for him pulsing in her heart, flowing through her entire body.

"I wish we could stay in bed all day, and for the rest of our lives," she said softly.

"Do you have to go?" He asked while brushing some of her dark hair out of her face. He did not want to lose her, or be without her ever again.

She nodded sadly. "Fuller needs me back."

"Oh, come on, don't bring his name up," Tom groaned.

"Tom," Mickey giggled.

"He can have you back tomorrow," Tom said while grabbing his brand new cellular device from his pants pocket that found a new home the night before. Mickey tried to rip it out of his hands but he dialed a number and pressed the phone to his ear. "Fuller? This is the DEA. Unfortunately, we require Gregg's assistance for another day or so... okay. She will see you then. Bye."

Mickey laughed as he looked at her, flicked the phone closed and tossed it on the bed. "Problem solved."

"What did he say?"

"He said no."

"That's not problem solved, is it?" She laughed.

"No, but he doesn't have to know."

"What about my flight?" She asked and settled back onto the pillow.

"Let me change your ticket home," Tom offered.

"Really?" She asked, her eyes lighting up.

"Really," he promised.

"Okay. Then I'm going to go take a shower."

"Okey-dokey," he said.

Mickey tried to hide her grin from Tom, but she failed. She grabbed a blanket that was tousled over the comforter and used it to cover herself as she walked to the nearby bathroom. While she was in there, Tom put on some pants and laid out some of his clothes for her to wear for when she got out. He called the airplane company and changed her ticket for a flight later in the day, since he didn't want her to get into trouble, and he also washed the clothes that she wore the night before.

When she came out, she had a towel wrapped around her chest and her soaking wet hair was sticking to her neck and back. She noticed the clothes that Tom had folded for her, and began to gather them. She was going to retreat back to the bathroom to change, but it was only Tom. He had seen much more just the night before.

Tom had gotten himself back into bed. She began to carefully replace the towel with her clean clothes and Tom said, "don't move, honey."

"Why?" She asked.

"You look so perfect standing there. Have I ever told you that watching you get dressed messes with my head?"

Mickey chuckled and slipped on her jeans. "Maybe."

"Come back to bed, we still have time."

"I have to go, Tom," Mickey said. She didn't want to leave, but she had responsibilities that she needed to take care of back in Metro. Fuller didn't approve the request for her to stay, and she requested a dog-sitter for only one night.

"I think you should stay and be with me for a couple more days," he said. He began to wish that he changed the date on her ticket, but he knew that was selfish and she would end up changing it back.

"I'd stay if I could. I don't want you to get fired. Or me," Mickey stated.

He groaned because he knew that she was right. "It's not the same when you're gone. You know what they say, it's not good to be all alone."

She chuckled and fluffed her wet hair over her shoulder after she put on the shirt that she borrowed from Tom. She didn't want to wear her sweatshirt if it had a rip in it.

"I just want a little more time with you," he said as he stood up and walked up to her. "I don't want to say goodbye."

"Neither do I, but Fuller will have a cow. You know how he gets. And there's no one to watch Swayze."

"Okay, fine." He kissed her forehead. "At least let me take you to the airport."

Luckily with a later flight, they had time to be together. He made waffles, and they snuggled up on his plushy couch to watch some reruns of the shows they used to watch together. Mickey closed her eyes, wishing this moment would never end.

When it was time for her to leave for her flight, Tom used his iconic Mustang to take Mickey to the airport. He walked with her to the gate, and they arrived just in time.

To say goodbye, Tom said, "even though we have to say goodbye again, just know that I carry you in my heart. I'll always be with you the only way that I can. I know it's not the same as me being there, but I hope that my words will hug you, even in the distance. I will never fade away, as long as we let the love we have live on."

Mickey looked at Tom with such love in her eyes, it might have exploded out of her irises. She initiated the goodbye-hug, refusing to let her emotions get the better of her. They both died a little bit inside.

"I'll see you in four years. I love you."

"I love you too."

They both hesitated to let go, because neither of them truly know when they will be able to see each other again. Four years was going to feel like another eternity. Mickey leaned down to grab her bag, and she headed to the line. She felt her face grow hot as she fought against letting a tear fall.

She handed her ticket to the attendant, and began to head to the jet-bridge. She paused and looked back at Tom, who responded by putting his hands in his pockets and gave her a soft smile to hide his heartache. She returned the expression, then walked down the bridge.

Mickey quickly found her seat, and buckled up right away. She sniffed and used the back of her hand to rub her damp eye, and she looked out the window. She hoped she could see him again soon. Maybe next time, the other won't have to leave.

AN: I'm debating on writing a chapter of Tom faking his death from the 21 Jump film... thoughts?