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Call Me Gray

By: Diezi



The events of the previous evening were heavy on his mind as Mr. Gray stepped out of the elevator. He rubbed gently at the itchy bandage on his forehead, feeling the pain of the wound beneath. The lobby that opened up in front of him was innocent-looking enough to convince most people that this was a legitimate firm. Only the employees knew the truth- not even family members knew the kind of work that their loved ones did- not that Mr. Gray had any family.

With a respectful nod to Miss Violet at the reception desk, Mr. Gray turned immediately left, passing her and continued down to his office. He figured that if he kept moving, no one would have time to ask about the thick bandage or the blackened eye that he donned this particular morning. Of course, agents often got hurt in this line of work. The only difference in this case, the reason he wanted to avoid the scrutiny of his peers, was that all his wounds from this last job had been inflicted by a woman...a mysterious, and very well-trained operative. The image of those electrifying green eyes of his assailant toyed with his focus; and he was glad to reach the office and slip inside, avoiding the stares of the other employees.

After his long debriefing the night before, Mr. Gray was determined to find some distraction from the lingering thoughts of the woman and the insecurity she'd caused him. He slipped into his chair, eyeing the new stack of files on his desk. Thankfully, there were blessed few. Flipping open the first file he scanned the front page, which detailed the sort of assignment it was- a simple surveillance gig, and put it aside for later. He wasn't in the mood to run out of the office so soon after arriving. Mr. Gray thought he might actually stay in today, do some research, have a few drinks and 'nurse his wounds' so-to-speak.

Mr. Black, one of the agency founders, introduced his entry to the room with a single light knock. Mr. Gray looked up at Mr. Black blankly at first, holding back his reaction to perhaps get a reading of the man's mood as he shut the door and approached the desk. 

"Read your report, Gray," the older man said in his usual, gruff tone. "Had any insights or recollections over night?"

Mr. Gray pushed back from the desk, swiveling the chair in the boss's direction. "No, sir. I've never seen this woman before; and she doesn't appear to be in our database."

Mr. Black nodded, his already grim features turning a bit more rigid with his annoyance. "Well, she's on someone's payroll."

Bosses had the luxury of stating the obvious. "White hasn't broken her yet?"

After a long, agitated pause, Mr. Black said a soft, "No, I'm afraid not." Mr. Gray was silent. Somehow he wasn't surprised that she was giving their lead interrogator a run for his money.

Suddenly the gruff and agitation melted from the old features to reveal hints of amusement. "Fine shiner she gave you, Gray," Mr. Black said, making a gesture toward Mr. Gray's swollen features. "Did you hurt her at all?"

Despite the personal attack to his ego, Mr. Gray stayed cool and unreadable. Not a muscle twitched on his face, though he lowered his head just a bit, to draw the old man's attention to the intensity of his dark brown eyes. He was not a man to be easily cowed by such childish tactics.

"I'm certain I did, sir. The situation wouldn't have gotten so sticky if certain individuals hadn't decided to come barreling in at the wrong moment."

"I know about Green," he interrupted. "What can I say; he's young...new at this."

"I can't train a man who won't follow my orders, sir," Mr. Gray said firmly. His tone was not quite a threat, but he could easily push in that direction.

The boss's response was authoritative. "Now isn't the time to throw your weight around, Mr. Gray. Your team dropped the ball last night. We have to get those discs back before they fall into the wrong hands."

Mr. Gray was preparing a response, but didn't get a chance to speak before the boss was already turning away. So, he simply said, "Perhaps I'll have a chat with Mr. White," to the departing man's back.

--------------

Mr. White's 'workroom' was in the basement of the building. The walls were designed to dampen sound; and the highest security measures were in place to assure that no one got in or out of the room who shouldn't. Gray had ample clearance to sweep effortlessly through security to the basement, but chose not to be as brash and intrusive as Mr. Black. Instead, he 'rang-the-bell' and waited for Mr. White to buzz him in through the thick doors and into the stark white room, which was currently marred by splashes of blood from the on-going interrogation.

Mr. White wore a doctor's lab coat over his dress shirt and dark slacks, to protect them from collecting noticeable blood stains. As he was their foremost expert (more precisely, enthusiast) on effective interrogation techniques, he had a reputation among the operatives for being cold and cruel. Personally, Gray liked his get-to-the-point way of doing business. Mr. White was not the kind of guy to waste your time with highlights from the ball game the previous evening or a chauvinistic play-by-play of the great lap dance he'd gotten from some woman. With White, it was all work and no play.

"Black ruffling your feathers?" White asked, moving away from the bleeding woman, bound to a metal chair at his side. He approached Mr. Gray, looking only minimally interested in the answer he might receive.

"A bit," Gray admitted, not bothering to smile at the blank features of his colleague.

"Black was never the patient type." White looked over his shoulder at the woman. Her dark hair was wet with perspiration; and it clung to her forehead and cheeks as she let her head fall back heavily against the back of the chair. The resulting thud did not seem to affect her as she was already in noticeable pain from the multiple bruises, fractures and lacerations Mr. White had inflicted on her. "I, however, am very...patient."

"How long have you been at it?" Gray moved a few paces around White to get an even less impaired view of the dark-haired woman. Her previously smooth and delicate features were almost unrecognizable to him through the swelling.

"Several hours. She really is very well conditioned." The hint of admiration in the middle-aged man's tone was not lost on Mr. Gray.

"Can you break her?" 

"Before she dies?"

"Well...yes."

After a contemplative pause, White moved back toward the chair and leaned over the woman, examining his handiwork. Several more moments passed; and Mr. Gray tried not to be disturbed by the look Mr. White was directing at the prisoner. It was a tender, almost loving glance that a man might give his lover.

"Probably not," Mr. White said softly, pulling his gaze away to look in Gray's direction.

It took Mr. Gray an extra moment to recall the question the man was answering. His thoughts had been distracted by the morbid scene of affection. Once he had his mind set right again, he nodded to signify his understanding. "Perhaps you should tell Mr. Black...before you do kill her."

White withdrew again with a mild sigh of regret. Moving to stand at his colleague's side, he let his steely eyes fall on Mr. Gray. "Because I know how important this is, I'm going to suggest we change tactics. I think we should bring in Brown."

Gray's eyes widened with disbelief. Considering the amount of pleasure Mr. White received from his work, it literally seemed out of character for him to make such a suggestion.

"I've had my fun with her. Now it is my duty to turn her over to Brown." To show that he was standing firmly behind his decision, Mr. White unbuttoned the lab coat, slipped it from his shoulders and threw it across the worktable set a few paces from the prisoner. The stained lab coat fell across the tray of instruments Mr. White had handy for his interrogations.

"Need any assistance moving her?" Gray said, trying to recover the conversation and seem genuinely helpful. "She's stronger than she looks."

"No, I don't think so." The man looked slightly offended that Mr. Gray would doubt him, but pushed past it without comment. "Go work your other cases. Get some proper sleep. Your eye looks terrible."

Again Mr. Gray did not smile. These observations and tidbits of advice were not offered by a friend. So, he would not act the fool and pretend they were. "Send me a copy of your report when you submit it to Black," he said hollowly, turning back to view the prisoner once more. Her breathing was shallow, slow and painful- telltale signs that she probably had at least one broken rib. There was little doubt in Gray's mind that this woman would be dead within the next few days. Despite the wounds she had inflicted upon him, he hoped her demise would not be by his hand. In his opinion, it would be a waste of an excellent operative...even though she worked for one of their competitors.

--------------

A couple of days later, Mr. Gray sat in on a meeting in Mr. Black's sizeable office. "I've read your findings, several times, Mr. Brown...and I still don't understand the reasoning behind this...scheme of yours," Mr. Black stated emphatically, accompanying the words with wild hand gestures. "You claim the evidence indicates she has hidden the discs somewhere."

"Yes sir," Mr. Brown replied.

"But, I don't see this evidence anywhere in your report. How did you come to this conclusion?"

From his position on Mr. Black's right side, Mr. Gray shifted his attention fully on Mr. Brown.

"I cross-referenced the helicopter surveillance footage with Mr. Gray and Green's reports of the incident. She clearly did not have time or opportunity to hand over the discs before she was apprehended. The chase might have taken close to an hour, but she was never out of the agents' view longer than a half minute."

"We've torn apart that neighborhood as discreetly as possible and found nothing," Black reminded the young man. "Valuable time has already been lost on this. Now you want me to waste more?"

"Sir," Brown began with determination, "I know I don't have to remind either of you the importance of those files. Yes, they may be lost, but if there is any chance at getting them back, this is it."

"Chemical-induced amnesia..." Mr. Black murmured, his eyes dropping to the contents of the report on the desk in front of him. "Shouldn't we want her to remember where she hid the file?" the old man asked with a noticeable edge to his tone. Clearly he thought the young man was out of his mind.

"This woman is so deeply conditioned, I don't think we'll ever get the information we want otherwise. We need to strip away all of it and give her a fresh start. The memories should resurface gradually, triggered by stimulus that we can provide."

"Does any of this shit make sense to you, Gray?" Mr. Black asked. 

Mr. Gray nodded stiffly. "I'm following him, but I have lots of questions."

"Such as?"

"Where will we keep this woman while all this mind-manipulation is going on? Who is going to supervise? What happens when she does remember?"

Black looked to Brown, his eyes hardening. "Well...?"

"I've already thought this through. I have come up with a scenario that I think will be the best foundation for the project," Brown said. "I can write it up and have it back to you before lunch."

Still visibly vexed with everything he understood and didn't understand about Mr. Brown's plan, Mr. Black agreed. Then he kicked both Gray and Brown out of his office.

--------------

Mr. Gray knew something was up the moment he stepped off the elevator the following morning. Miss Violet urgently waved him over while trying to complete a phone conversation. She put her hand over the mouthpiece as he stepped up to her desk and softly informed him that Mr. Brown needed to speak with him immediately in the 'wardrobe'.

Thanking her respectfully, Gray left the lobby, heading to a nearby elevator that would take him to the lower levels of the building. The wardrobe, aptly named because it stored numerous costumes and accessories helpful in undercover surveillance, was empty that morning with the exception of Mr. Brown and Miss Rose, one of Brown's psychologist protégés.

"Good morning," Mr. Brown said the moment Gray stepped into the massive room. He looked up from a small pile of clothes laid out on the table in front of him and asked eagerly, "Did you get my proposal?"

"No, I just arrived," Gray explained. "Miss Violet sent me right down."

"Oh, I see. That's my fault," he said. "I told her it was important."

"What is this about?" Gray asked. A suspicious knot was forming in his stomach. He'd really hoped to have this whole affair behind him by now. This summons seemed to imply that his involvement would continue.

Standing up a bit straighter and crossing his arms across his bulky chest, Mr. Brown said, "Mr. Black and I have decided that you are the best person for the job."

Gray kept his look blank despite the clenching in his stomach. "Job?"

"You're going undercover...as the husband."

"You're not serious?" Gray was quick to respond. He leveled his harsh brown eyes on the psychologist. "I haven't the skill or desire to pass off such a role."

Miss Rose found something funny in this statement and managed a few giggles before a cold look from Mr. Gray silenced her.

"Nonsense," Brown said decidedly. "Perhaps you are reluctant because the woman nearly killed you," he offered.

Gray's frown deepened. "You seem to be misinformed about certain outcomes from my encounter with this woman. However, one thing I think we'll both agree on...is that she's dangerous."

"That's all the more reason to have an experienced agent on this case," Brown said. "We're moving her to a private medical facility this afternoon. Please read through the paperwork on your desk and be ready to join her there."

Gray glared, biting back venomous retorts with every ounce of his waning self-control. He walked stiffly from the room, pondering the possibility of using his clout to get out of this assignment. Surely there was someone more qualified to play the loving, supportive husband than he? He considered the candidates while in the elevator and all the way to his office. Mr. Green was too unfocussed and impulsive. Mr. Red and Mr. Yellow were both married men and couldn't possibly be away that long without raising suspicion. White? Images of the way the interrogator had looked at the bound and bleeding woman revisited Gray's mind. No, definitely not White. Mr. Gold, like Mr. Black, was too old and grumpy for something like this. The list was quickly getting very short.

Gray burst into his office to find Mr. Black seated at his desk, glancing through a blue folder on the desktop. Considering his mind was already preoccupied, it took Mr. Gray a few moments to gather his wits and address his boss. "Good morning, sir," he managed.

"This psycho babble reads like a poor script for a soap opera," Black said, hardly looking up from the pages to acknowledge Gray. "I can't believe I'm signing off on it."

Gray closed the office door and stepped toward the desk. "Mr. Black, if you are having doubts, why not just pull the plug on the whole...?"

"Because I need it to work, Gray," the old man said, resting his hands on the arms of the chair. He slowly looked up to meet the younger man's gaze. "Not everything on those discs can be so easily redone or hidden." The gruff was suddenly gone, leaving only a tired, vulnerable old man for Gray's inspection.

Gray tried not to let the unexpected loss of the man's usual façade affect him, but he didn't dare speak to him in a tone higher than a whisper or more threatening than that of a respecting colleague. "There are so many variables to consider," Mr. Gray guessed, having yet to read the file. "One misstep...and it will fall apart."

"I have five children," Black said softly. "I can't uproot them, their spouses, my grandchildren and relocate them all. Perhaps you don't understand because you have no family, but...if we can't find those files and guarantee that they have not been compromised- then...my family will be in danger. I'm hardly sleeping at night, worrying about it."

To appear as if he was considering this information important, Mr. Gray waited his comments for several moments. Finally, he said, "It is true that I have no living family. Though it would be convenient to put me on this case, I do not think I am a good choice."

"Don't think I haven't given this a lot of thought," Black said. "I need someone I can trust on this assignment- someone who is smart and able to adapt. I know this isn't your usual cup-of-tea, Gray, but I need you to step-up and handle this mess for us."

Though the older man hadn't made a direct reference to the forthcoming retirements of he and Mr. Gold, Gray realized that Mr. Black was looking for someone to whom he could hand over the reigns of the agency. All things being as they were, Mr. Gray knew he was a prime candidate for such a responsibility.

"Even if it works, it could takes months, maybe even years, to get the information we need out of this woman," Gray said evenly. "That will add up to many sleepless nights, I think."

Black nodded, looking distractedly at the file's contents. Then slowly he stood and came around the desk. "Play along for now, Gray. Consider it a vacation of sorts- a chance to get out of the office."

Gray allowed himself to sigh in defeat, giving in to the desires of his boss. For the chance to inherit the agency, he knew he'd do just about anything- even pretend to be married. Most likely, the memory-effecting chemicals wouldn't work and the woman would have to be disposed of anyway.

"I won't forget this," Black promised as he re-donned the gruff and determined look and let himself out of the office.

--------------

The Pinewood Medical Center was a sophisticated private hospital located on several acres of picture-perfect land on the outskirts of the neighboring towns of Wellman and Lake Ridge. Gray wasn't too familiar with the area, but he found Pinewood effortlessly. He eased the Jeep Cherokee up the long drive, deciding he wouldn't complain about the vehicle issued to him for this assignment as it was comfortable, handled well and was in reasonably good condition. He parked in the visitor's section in the shade of a maple tree, taking note of all he saw as he made the walk to the front entrance.

The woman at the admissions desk smiled warmly at him as he stepped up to the counter. He met her look with one of pleasant urgency. "I'm looking for my wife, Amanda Butler. She was transferred here this afternoon," he said.

Ten minutes later, Gray was admitted to an observation room where Mr. Brown, dressed in a doctor's coat, was waiting. "I asked you to be here hours ago," the younger man said, looking at his watch to emphasize his irritation.

Gray turned his attention to the hospital room beyond the one-way glass. The woman, now bandaged, was hooked up to an I.V. and various other machines of which Gray was vaguely interested.

"I stopped by the house after I packed a few things," he said coolly. "I thought it was supposed to be believably empty."

"We only provided a few pieces of furniture and things," Brown said, his agitation building. "She won't be leaving here soon anyway. You'll have time to shop for more before you take her there."

Gray shook his head, sneaking a peek at Brown. "I doubt a loving husband would put forth much effort to furnish a home that his wife might never get to see," he said. After a calculated pause, he asked, "Has she been asleep since the...procedure?"

"No," Brown said, stepping up to the glass beside Gray. "She woke up about an hour ago for a few minutes. Miss Rose spoke with her. So far, the chemicals appear to have done their job."


Call Me Gray Ch. 02



The sky had been dark and stormy all morning, seeming to match Mr. Gray's mood as he drove from the house in Lake Ridge to Pinewood Medical Center. Part of him had wanted to make a plan, choose his words before hand so they would easily slip off his tongue as soon as he was face to face with Amanda. Then he'd come to his senses. This was one performance that he'd have to improvise, in the hope that she would see and hopefully understand how difficult it had been for him to leave her the previous evening.

The parking lot was practically empty as he pulled into what had become his usual spot under the maple tree closest to the front door. He switched off the engine and sat there for a moment, thinking through and quickly disregarding all attempts on his psyche's part to cast blame where it wasn't due. This was his assignment, therefore, his screw up. Brown had been right to turn the tables on him, if only to press the need for cooperation in this matter. Gray had criticized Mr. Green a time or two for far less than he had attempted with Mr. Brown.

He took a deep breath, clearing his mind as he released the air through his pursed lips. He scooped up the navy, insulated raincoat off the passenger seat and got out of the Cherokee. He threw it over his arm as he walked the short distance to the entrance, where the woman on duty greeted him cordially. He wished her a good morning and moved briskly onward, not in the mood to act as friendly this day as most others.

When he stepped into the open doorway of Amanda's room, he purposely waited for her to sense him, which took a few long moments and allowed him the opportunity to observe her at a peaceful state. Her head was bent forward, concentrating on a paperback resting in her hands. She'd tucked her hair behind her ears to keep it from obstructing her view; and the hint of a satisfied smile nestled into the corner of her mouth. 

Then Amanda looked up from her pages to see who had darkened her doorway. The contentment slipped from her features instantly as first the muscles in her cheeks, then neck and shoulders tensed. She looked away from Gray, slipping her bookmark between the pages and putting the book on her side table. It seemed to take a long time for her gaze to move back to him.

"Hi." 

Her response was tired and cheerless. "You're a little early today, aren't you?" 

"Yes, I suppose I am," he admitted. He looked around at the room that had shared in their time together for nearly two months. Though tasteful, the room was far from having the warm, homelike quality that the decorator had probably envisioned. Admittedly, he had grown tired of being here too.

"Why do you have two jackets?" Amanda asked, perking up a bit with curiosity.

Knowing that the important dialogue was only being delayed, not forgotten, Gray stepped up to the bedside. He lifted the coat, holding it out for her to take from his grasp. "I thought we could go for a walk outside. You've been cooped up in this room for too long."

She took the raincoat, dropping it into her lap, but not really looking at it. Instead she gave him an apprehensive glance that, with her indecision, soon became a stare. Gray managed to hold his ground under the scrutiny of her intense greens- not even a muscle twitched under his features.

When it became apparent that neither of them was going to bring up the cause of this tension, Amanda looked away again. She climbed down from the bed, straightening the shirt and jeans she wore before donning and zipping the jacket. With a flip of her hair, to free it from under the coat, Amanda moved toward the doorway expectantly. Gray fell in behind, switching off the light before leaving.

Together they moved down the hall, passing a few nurses conferencing over a medical chart. The woman on duty at admissions grinned at the couple as they passed. Gray thought she might have winked too, but wasn't sure to whom she was directing it. She wasn't much older than him, he suspected, yet exuded motherly warmth. He thought it unimportant to consider her wink as anything more than gracious encouragement.

The air was heavy with forthcoming rain as they stepped through the front doors of Pinewood. The hospital had an outdoor garden area and Amanda headed that direction, hardly seeming concerned that she was outpacing his slower, controlled strides. 

Gray watched her intently. She really was a striking woman, especially now that the majority of her injuries had healed, unveiling the smooth, delicate features that visited his mind so often late at night when he couldn't or wouldn't sleep. Watching her admire the vivid colors of the flowers while she walked, Gray was relieved to see calm slowly easing into her form, relaxing her muscles, slowing her steps and releasing a gentle smile.

She reached the first of many benches strategically placed around the gardens and sat down to watch him approach. He also felt more relaxed now and eased onto the bench while her eyes took him in.

"I love the rain," Amanda said softly, casting her gaze toward the darkening clouds in the already dreary sky. Gray nodded without comment. He just watched her, drinking in every small change to her features. Then suddenly, her gaze was back on him and a touch of upset gleamed in her eyes. With a noticeable edge to her voice, she asked, "What do you love?"

He frowned, recognizing the challenge she was presenting to him. His first thought was to say that he loved her, but somehow that seemed wrong to say at this moment. So, as not to prolong his response, he answered honestly. "Campfires... I've enjoyed them since I was young." 

Her eyes skimmed over his features and partway down his front before her smile reemerged. "Won't my rain put out your campfire?" she teased.

He held back all emotion except his uncertainty. "Only if we let it," he said after a few moments of pause.  Amanda's head tilted in consideration of him. "Is that the cue?" 

"For what?"

"To talk about what happened last night?" Her smile was fading, but not completely gone.

"Think you can listen to an apology?" he countered, feeling braver as she was managing to keep her own emotions in check.

"Sure...if you really need to give one." She really didn't seem invested in this conversation, Gray realized. She was holding back, perhaps to protect her already injured feelings.

"What would I say... if not to apologize? I made a promise to you; and I broke it."

Amanda shrugged, reaching out to cup a pink rose bloom in her hand from the bush alongside the bench. "I shouldn't have asked you."

"Why not?" he asked softly, suddenly wondering what Brown and Miss Rose had said to her after he'd departed. "I think you had every right."

There was care in choosing her words it seemed, for it took her a long time to answer. "Being here is like being trapped in limbo. I feel like my life is on hold, just waiting to start over." Her fingertips caressed the rose petals; and she took in a sudden breath as if to bolster herself against the onslaught of an unwanted emotion. 

Gray shifted his gaze away from her features as her eyes began to glisten. He'd made many a person cry in his career with little to no effect on him personally; but in her case, those starting tears caused a burning inside his chest that disturbed him.

He reached over, sliding his arm across her shoulders until he could hook his hand around her right arm and draw her closer. Amanda came willingly, burying herself against his side and resting her head where his neck met the shoulder. "I think we both want the same thing," Gray said with care, placing a kiss on the top of her head. "We just have to be patient a little bit longer."

During the long silence, Amanda began to sniffle. "Can I ask you a question?" she asked finally, sounding miserable.

"Of course."

She lifted her left hand, holding it palm out in front of her. "What happened to my wedding ring?"

Gray took her hand in his, holding it close to his chest. "I have it at the house," he said, hoping he sounded reassuring. He manipulated her hand with his own, straightening out her fingers so he could get a good look at the size of her ring finger. With her fingers lined up against his own, he determined that it was most likely a full ring size smaller than his pinky.

"What are you doing?" she inquired, sounding less sad. She pulled her hand from his grip to wipe at her eyes.

"Just admiring," he said with a smile.

"Gray?"

"Yes?"

"Let's not fight about last night."

"Ok." He decided not to pretend to be relieved. "What shall we do then?"  

"Walk." She sat up, pushing Gray's arm off of her shoulders with a playful nudge before standing. Then she held out her hand to him.

"You realize that you're letting me off the hook too easily?" he said, getting up and taking her hand. He tried to keep his features firm and serious.

"Perhaps," she said, looking deeper into the gardens. "I'm sure you had your reasons."

Her forgiving attitude puzzled him. What woman would forgo the chance to put a man in his place? He felt he was deserving of something. In fact, he wasn't sure he could let the incident go without some form of reprimand. Could she possibly be intuitive enough to realize how hard he was being on himself?

"You don't want to hear them?" 

"I want my walk...and my ring." Her tone was strong and her words spoken with decisiveness. How could he refuse such simplistic requests in light of the scolding he truly deserved? It felt like they were leaving a gaping wound in their relationship that would have to be treated eventually.

He gave an affirming nod and let her guide him down the path at a slow, relaxed pace. He hoped the rain would come before they returned inside. He wished for any and all things in that moment that would bring a smile to Amanda's lips and a twinkle to her eyes.

--------------

The next morning, the door to the observation room opened as Gray approached Amanda's room. Miss Rose stepped into the hall and gave him a beckoning wave before retreating inside. "What is it?" Gray asked, allowing some mild irritation to show as Miss Rose shut the door behind him.

"I know it's not my place," she began with hesitation and shifting her eyes from Gray to the room beyond the glass where Amanda was seated in the bedside chair, dressed and wearing her insulated raincoat in anticipation of his arrival. 

It cheered him to see her looking so at ease. The long walk of the previous day had worked to purge the tension between them.

Miss Rose gazed back at him, her eyes wide and features almost trembling at the admission she was about to make. "Dr. Brown...set you up." 

"How is that?" Gray asked in a calm tone, keeping his mind from racing in a million directions and dredging up volatile emotions. He knew it was always better to have the facts instead of jumping to conclusions.

"The other day, during their therapy session, Amanda asked Dr. Brown why it was taking so long for her to be released. She was confident that she was ready to go home. He...told her that you had expressed... concerns."

Gray's brow furrowed and his jaw tensed. This news was angering, yet he managed the emotion with great skill. There were much better ways to expend his energy than a tantrum. "He made it sound like I was the reason she wasn't being released."

"I'm sure that is what prompted her to ask you," Miss Rose said. She looked distressed and astutely ashamed. "Dr. Brown's reasons for doing such a thing are beyond me, but I am very sorry, Mr. Gray."

He gave a simple nod to acknowledge her sentiment. "Is Brown going to be around today?"

She nodded stiffly, slowly recovering her wits. "He had a meeting with Mr. Black very early this morning, but should be back anytime."

"Amanda and I are going for a drive. I'll expect him to be available to speak with me when we get back."

Though her features grew tense at this declaration, she did not argue with him. If she worried that he was going to get her in trouble with Brown, she made no plea for discretion. She was far from being considered a friend, but Gray thought it rather dignified of her to be so accepting of the consequences of her actions.

"Good day, Miss Rose," he said with a respectful nod in her direction. 

Gray left the observation room and slipped into the next, catching Amanda's attention as soon as he cleared the doorway. A wide, expressive grin stretched her lips as she stood and moved toward him. "You're late," she said in a teasing tone.

He made a mild production out of looking at his watch and trying to read it. "Only by a few minutes," he said, thinking of the delay caused by Miss Rose.

Amanda pursed her lips into a playful pout. "I hoped you would come early again," she admitted. "Last night was so looong."

Instead of apologizing or continuing to tease her, Gray took her hand. "Let's get out of here," he whispered conspiringly. "It's a good twenty minute drive to the house and we don't want the doctor to catch us sneaking out."

"I thought you cleared this little trip," she said with a chuckle. She shook her head at him as if she was planning disciplinary action. He feigned innocence in return, checked to see if the coast was clear and promptly stole her away to the Cherokee parked in the front lot.

The ride to Lake Ridge was quiet and beautiful. The first of the autumn colors were making their appearances in the surrounding woodlands. Deer grazing in view of the road, fled on thin, strong legs as the jeep passed, causing Amanda to release her belt so she could turn around in her seat to watch them scatter into the tree line. Then, with a sigh, she plopped back into place with a snap of her belt and a rosy flush to her cheeks.

The house, a beige split-level ranch style, was partially hidden behind a row of red maple trees along the street and brilliant yellow to red/orange fire cherry trees lining the long drive to the garage. Colorful leaves, sacrifices of the season, were scattered around the immense yard of still green grass.

Gray pulled into the drive, taking his time in reaching the front of the house, so Amanda could absorb the full picture. He was curious to hear what she thought of their house, in that it was theirs as long as this mission lasted. He was not disappointed or kept too long in suspense. 

"My goodness, Gray," Amanda said as she stepped out of the Cherokee. She turned in small, slow circles, taking in everything with wide, appreciative eyes. "Did we instantly love it?"

"You knew this was the place, the minute you saw the posting on the website," he said with a smile. "This is our first time here together though." He looked toward the front steps, sorting through his key ring in search of the one for the house. "Ready to go in?"

She nodded and moved toward him, but her eyes still surveyed the yard and the high fences at its edges as she moved cautiously up the front stairs. "Have you met any of the neighbors?" she inquired, finally shifting her attention to him as he unlocked the door and stepped into the front hall.

Gray stepped back, letting her pass him before closing the door. He didn't answer her right away as he wanted to see her reaction to the empty space of the living room to their right and the dining room on the left. White glared from every wall, making him wish he hadn't left the magazines and color samples at the hospital the other day when he'd left in such a rush. He had wanted to have something done for her before she saw the house, but that would all be remedied soon.

"Not yet. I haven't exactly been out of the house much, other than to come out to Pinewood."

"We have a lot of room here," Amanda said, nodding her head subjectively as she peered in on the living room and then decided to cut through the dining room with its fine wooden flooring. Gray followed her to the kitchen at the back of the house, where the first pieces of actual furniture were present. A simple microwave sat on the counter by the sink. The counters had a look of golden sinai marble that stood out quite nicely with the medium to dark wood of the cabinets. There was a small, circular kitchen table and chairs that looked rather dejected resting in a space meant for something much larger. Gray had noticed the first time he'd toured it that there was nothing small about the house, even the bathrooms and closets were immense.

Amanda shook her head and amusement filled her tone. "We don't even have curtains," she observed.

He looked at her with a soft, almost mournful gaze. "This furniture was impulse buying on my part. I actually don't like any of it at all, if that makes sense."

"It must be hard being here alone with all this space and nothing in it." Her sympathy was evident as she stepped closer and put a hand on his arm. After a few moments of tender silence, she sighed and took his hand. "Take me upstairs."

Even though he knew it was an innocent request, part of him still flushed a bit at her choice of words. There was nothing sexual about his decision to bring her here today. He certainly had no current plan to lean her over the kitchen table or playfully wrestle her down on the deck overlooking the backyard beyond the kitchen's sliding glass doors. Yet, a slight increase in his heartbeat and body temperature reminded him of what exactly he'd signed up for when agreeing to take this mission. Honestly, there were worse ways to keep an eye on your competition.

Gray led her through the kitchen side door to the living room, where a short flight of stairs led down to the basement level and a parallel flight of stairs led up to the master suite, office, guest rooms and bathroom. She took it all in as they toured the upper level and gave him a raised eyebrow of suspicion when she realized he'd been sleeping on a full-size bed in one of the guest rooms and living out of suitcases.

With a humble shrug, Gray led her to the master suite, which had its own enormous walk-in closet and adjoining bathroom with dual sinks, shower and large tub. Everything was very stylish...but mostly white, which irritated him more than it really ought to have, considering Amanda's lack of comment.

He turned to see where her attention was, only to find her getting down to touch the soft, medium gray carpet, which was still new enough to give a cushioned, springy feeling under foot. "Like it?" he asked, trying not to smile too widely as she stretched out fully on the floor and closed her eyes with a sigh of restful bliss.

"Uh huh," she said in admiration, turning her head, to press her cheek into the softness. "I especially like the color."

"I suppose we can forego buying a bed if you think you'll enjoy sleeping on the floor," he teased. "I'll just head on back to the bed down the hall."

Amanda's bright green eyes opened, narrowing to slits as she teased back, "No you won't, dear. Our nights of sleeping apart will soon be at an end." She sat up slowly, looking incredibly graceful as she got to her feet. She approached the walk-in closet, opened the door and disappeared inside. Gray stood back, awaiting her return. He knew that a tasteful collection of clothes awaited her inside, all carefully purchased and pre-laundered by the fashion-savvy female operatives at the firm. It wasn't a lot, he knew, but enough to give her a sense that he had been thinking of and wanting her here with him.

Amanda emerged from the closet, switching off the light and closing the door. She looked at him, but away just as quickly. He sensed a change in her, but did not press her with inquiries. He knew it was a lot to take in all at once.

"We lost a lot in the crash, didn't we?" she asked him suddenly, turning back to study his expression as he formulated an answer.

"Yes," he agreed, "but they were only objects, material possessions. You are all I really care about." She seemed to accept this answer with the sincerity he had intended to convey. Even a lie could sound true with the right emotion backing it. "Come back to the other bedroom," he said. "I have some stuff to show you."




Call Me Gray Ch. 02



They were soon in the guestroom where he'd been sleeping at night. Gray removed an older-looking leather briefcase from the closet and brought it over to the bed where Amanda had seated herself. He put the case into her hands.

"This is all that was salvaged from the wreckage of the moving truck." At least, that was the story he was offering for the multitude of documents, photographs and such that Mr. Green had delivered to him in the wee hours of the morning, compliments of Mr. Red's handiwork.

Amanda laid the case across her lap and popped open the clasps. As she lifted the lid to peer inside, Gray noticed that her tension had not alleviated. In fact, it had spread, wrinkling the smooth skin of her forehead. She stared at the strewn pile inside, reaching nervously forward to extract a photograph by the corner that stuck out. Amanda soon held a photo of the two of them standing barefoot on a beach at sunset while the breeze off the ocean rustled their wedding clothes and hair. Even Gray was taken back by the professional look of the picture, which he hadn't even been asked to pose or provide any photographs for, aside from the ones already in his file at the agency.

The photo kept Amanda's gaze for several long moments before she put it aside and began to look through the pile. There were legal documents mixed in with photographs, which she spent more time looking at than the papers. She unearthed a wedding invitation, reading it over and over several times with a deepening frown. Finally, Gray had to step in and say something. He hadn't given her these things to distress her, after all.

"Amanda, I can tell you're getting upset," he said, reaching out to lightly touch her knee. "Perhaps I shouldn't have pulled this out so soon."

"No, it's just that," her voice choked with emotion and she could not complete her sentence right away. Tears started in her eyes, which she brushed away with irritation. "I just don't remember any of it, Gray; and I should." She held up the small pile of photographs that she'd been making on her opposite side. Shuffling through them, she held them up in turn as she spoke. "Our wedding, vacations and blowing out candles on a birthday cake, none of it...not one instance, triggers a memory."

"Dr. Brown said it would take time," Gray said reassuringly, though wishing in the next instant that he'd left the psychologist out of this talk. There were still issues to deal with in that area.

"I want to remember now," she insisted vehemently. "Our first date, kiss, your proposal...it's all gone; and I want it back."

Gray was speechless and unable to organize his thoughts for several moments. He watched her wipe away more tears as she stared longingly at the photographs. Instead of feeling proud of her growing attachment to him, he was suddenly filled with tremendous shame to be passing this stuff off as their previous life together. It was too much, too wrong, too cruel. Without a word, he reached out and took the photographs from her and dropped them into the case. He closed it, being mindful of her hands, and placed it on the floor out of her sight along the side of the bed.

"This is our life now," he began softly, reaching out to touch and pull her close. "You say you want out of the limbo, Amanda, but longing for those days will not achieve that goal. We must live for today and the days still to come."

Amanda turned to nestle against his front. Her body trembled within his strong embrace. She kept her face averted so he could no longer see the wet trails down her features. "Dr. Brown said it would be hard, but I don't think I really believed him until now," she admitted. "I feel at such a disadvantage."

"Don't," Gray said gently, leaning down to bury his face against her dark brown hair, inhaling the sweet lavender smell of her shampoo. "I'm not the same man I was back then either."

"Will this make us stronger?" she inquired with true doubt in her words. Gray assumed from her trembling that would not abate, that Amanda was contemplating the chance of losing him. Mission or not, he would not let her dwell on such an agonizing thought for long.

He coaxed her chin up so they could look at each other. "We already are," he assured her, not planning to dredge up stories of past marital obstacles or such to make a point. In fact, weaving a web of detailed lies wouldn't assist him as much as a simple promise at this junction in their relationship. "We're going to take this life and make it our own. The rest will fall into place when the time is right."

She did not answer at first, taking several moments to wipe at her face and breathe deeply. Finally her gaze shifted back to his, looking worn yet hopeful. "You're right, of course." 

Gray shook his head, not wanting the moment to be about psycho babble or Hallmark sentiments. "I said those things because I believe them- not just to make you feel better."

"I know." Her head lowered to rest against his upper chest and Gray held her for several silent moments before her trembling truly stopped. "We should head back," she said sorrowfully. "I'm feeling tired."

Gray released her, watching as she stood and moved from the room, heading for the stairs. He stepped over to his suitcase, opening it and removing the small ring box he'd tucked inside the previous evening. Now wasn't the time to present its contents to Amanda, he realized, but since it had been one of the principle reasons for their trip out here, he felt obligated to pocket the box before leaving.

Amanda was already belted into the Cherokee by the time Gray exited the front door and locked it. She wasn't crying anymore, but looked just as tired as she'd implied. Gray dreaded the drive back to Pinewood. The thought of putting her to bed one more night in that hospital room, made him feel angry and two-faced.  

It was still early in the day when they arrived back at the hospital. Amanda kept quiet as she led the way back to her room. Once inside, she closed the door behind them, turned down the lights and crossed to close the window blinds. 

Gray stood in the middle of the room, watching with rising fascination as she moved gracefully from one spot to another, effectively setting a mood with darkness, shy glances and the slight sway of her hips and bottom as she walked. They'd just left the solitude of the house, but she had waited until now to begin an attempt at seduction.

He was very aware of the mirror behind him and the observation room beyond. He was not the type of man who liked an audience to his activities, sexual or not, but Amanda's performance was equally as distracting, if not more so. He put his attention fully on her, reasoning that her psyche would feel more at ease here than at the house. This place had history for them, history that she remembered. 

She slipped out of her jacket, throwing it across the bedside chair and stepped closer to him, reaching out to rest her hands on his chest and search his features. Gray embraced her at the waist, pulling their bodies together. In the low light, her eyes were more gray than green, but he could easily close his eyes and recall their true, spectacular color.

"You're beautiful," he whispered to her, tracing the lines of her features with his eyes. She smiled in a soft, almost shy fashion, averting her eyes until her courage returned. Even then, Gray felt a slight tremble move through her.

"Gray?"

"Yes?"

Amanda hesitated, obviously uncertain. 

Gray leaned down to press his mouth to the side of her neck. He felt her stiffen in his arms and only tightened his hold on her frame. With great care and skill, he applied kisses to key pressure points along her jaw, neck, throat and shoulder. He worked his mouth in a gentle kneading motion to coax blood to the surface of her skin and increase the sensation of his kisses on her soft flesh.

In a very short amount of time, Amanda's breathing was coming in short pants which excited him. Then she let out a low moan and went slightly limp in his arms. Her pale features were relaxed and calm and her eyes closed in blissful resignation. 

Gathering her close once again, Gray lifted Amanda on to the bed, laying her out and smoothing back her dark hair. "Are you alright?" he asked her softly.

Her eyes fluttered open, an adjective he never would have thought to use in describing such a simple action, but that was exactly how it happed. Her long eyelashes fluttered as if she'd been awakened from a wonderfully restful sleep.

"You stopped," she whispered in disappointment.

It was difficult not to smile at her eagerness or let his mind run wild with possibilities. Yet, somehow he stifled both with some determination. "You practically fainted, dear."

She shook her head, perhaps denying the accusation or trying to dismiss it as a good reason for the halt in the proceedings. "Kiss me more," Amanda begged, pushing up to catch his mouth with her own. Gray let her lead, accepting her lips' caresses and admitting her tongue as it slipped in to lightly lick across the surface of his own.

Gray was quickly growing uncomfortable in the standing position and assumed she must be straining to reach him. Trying not to disrupt the kiss, he shifted his legs to get the right balance before maneuvering onto the bed with her. He straddled her hips as her tongue slipped away and his followed after it, invading her mouth with great yearning. Immediately she began sucking on his tongue; and he realized she was quite skilled with her mouth- an observation that resulted in a stirring in his groin.

Though they were both trying to breathe through their noses, quickly her panting was back and she had to release him to take in some deep breaths. She fell back against the pillows, still managing to look aroused, yet fearful as she cupped the back of his neck in her hand and gently pulled him down.

Flattening out on top of her, Gray ignored the strain of his growing erection and put his mouth back to work on her throat, slowly working down her chest, nudging aside material with his nose and chin as he eagerly sought out the firm mounds of her medium-sized breasts, held captive in a simple, silky white bra. He planted his elbows into the mattress on either side of her and used his hands to work the buttons and open up her shirt front completely.

Her weeks in the hospital had softened what had been a very strong and well-toned body. Pushing aside that thought so that it could not spoil the experience, Gray leaned in to kiss at the flesh of her abdomen before returning to her covered breasts. He cupped one in each hand, rubbing and kneading them through the material while he watched Amanda's expression, looking for clues as to the right ways to touch her. He felt he had to be somewhat methodical if he was to learn everything necessary to believably pass off the role of her husband. 

Amanda noticeably enjoyed this attention and began to shift beneath him. He paused to figure out what she needed only to feel her legs slipping apart. Gray quickly adjusted himself, pressing his pelvis up against hers just as her legs closed around him to complete the commitment. He wondered if she could feel his hard on through both layers of jeans. As they were currently positioned, he couldn't possibly get it out of his pants anyway, let alone into hers. If only he could read minds and know what she truly wanted from this encounter.

Suddenly Amanda thrust her pelvis up against him, a motion that both startled him in its fervor and put great pressure on his already swelled penis. He bit back the cry of discomfort and shifted himself just a bit lower, so that his genitals weren't rubbing directly against her pelvic bone. Then he returned the thrusting motion, watching her eyes light up at the change in sensation just a few-inches correction could make. Again she began to thrust against him, closing her eyes to fend off apprehension and intensify the sensations.

Gray gripped her at the hips and lifted her just enough so he could gather his knees beneath him for some added balance. Then he began to move with her, starting slow and steady because he doubted he could last long with his erection already bulging so tightly in his jeans. He had to get her to some form of release before he lost it, no matter how long it had been since he'd enjoyed the company of a woman.

An aroused flush of pink appeared on Amanda's upper chest. She was making low hums and taking in shallow, sustaining breaths as she picked up the pace of her thrusts against him. "Oh..." she gasped in a strained whisper, "I want to feel you in me, Gray."

He broke the rhythm to reach down and undo her jeans. She kicked off her shoes as he jumped down from the bed; then slipped off her pants and socks. Still in her underwear, Amanda reached for the belt loops of his jeans and pulled him back to her so she could toss away his jacket and attack his jeans zipper. Instead of pulling his pants down, her hand slipped in to grip his penis and pull it free.

Again her eyes widened, taking in the size of him. She gave him a few caresses that nearly sent him over the edge before she scooted back onto the bed to lie down and once again open up for him. He joined her on the bed, gathering her up at the hips as he had before. With his erection in hand, he pushed aside the crotch of her panties to reveal her vagina, pink and dripping. The sight and smell of her was incredibly erotic. Gray placed the head at her opening, pushing forward only enough to assure that he wouldn't slip out. Then he looked up at her, seeing the desperation in her eyes, the terrible need to have this connection with him.

"Take me," she ordered, sounding very determined to have her way. "Take me fast and hard."

Gray thrust forward with every ounce of strength he possessed. His shaft plowed into her womb, forcing her tender tissues to make room for him. Amanda let out a cry, causing him to pause and look at her. Her eyes were clenched in pain, but her words came out just as forceful and demanding. "Keep going. Make it hurt good."

Words that should have concerned and gave him pause only seemed to spur Gray on. He withdrew from her only to push back in with nearly as much ferocity as before. This time he didn't wait, he pulled back again, extracting his whole length before driving back into her with a low grunt. Then he began to pick up the pace, slamming into her again and again. The warm, building friction overwhelmed him, pushing him impossibly close to orgasm. He held on, forcing back the inevitable and trying to focus on Amanda's breathing, the changing expressions on her features and the likelihood of her coming before he did.

"Come for me, baby," he urged her, still grunting and beginning to sweat within his clothes.

"Harder," Amanda urged, letting her head fall back as she absorbed every sensation. "I'm almost...there."

He didn't think he could handle any more, but Gray slammed harder with each thrust, feeling his own release rising dangerously. Amanda began to scream in a rhythmic stream of phonemics as she built up to her own explosion, "Ah, ah, uuuh, uuuh, OOOOOH!" Her inner walls constricted around him and instantly the muscles in his body all clenched at once as Gray's orgasm hit him far more powerfully than any other he could ever recall. Months of pent up energy seemed to flow out of him with his release only to leave him feeling heavy and spent as it ended.

Gray withdrew before lowering himself beside her on the bed. Amanda turned toward him, burying her face against the front of his shirt. "Hmm...that was amazing," she purred.

"Yes it was," he agreed softly, the urge to fall asleep working against him.

"I didn't shock you, did I?" Amanda asked with noticeable concern. She lifted her head to look at him. 

"No," he said automatically, though he truthfully hadn't reflected on the situation to its fullest just yet. "It was incredibly sexy. I loved it." The truth certainly couldn't hurt in this instance, he thought.

Even in the afterglow of undeniably satisfying sex, Gray's instincts kicked in at that moment. It felt to him that someone was watching them, which meant only one of a few possibilities.

Gray planted a quick kiss on Amanda's lips before rolling off the bed. He tucked his still softening erection into his pants and started for the door. "Be right back," he promised, trying not to sound the slightest bit unsettled. He slipped out the door and into the hallway, making sure to close the door completely before invading the observation room.

Even as he burst into the darkened space, he caught sight of some hurried movement on the far side. He closed the door and flipped on the light in rapid succession, catching Mr. Brown rising from an armchair with his cock in hand, trying to wrestle it back into his pants. 

Gray swore and leveled an angry glare at the psychologist, who turned away in the attempt to find some privacy in completing his task. Finally, when the evidence was tucked away, Brown turned back to Gray, fighting to capture an expression on his features that didn't look guilty or embarrassed.

"Give me one good reason..." Gray began, but chose not to complete the threatening phrase.

Brown did not respond, seeming to have difficulty keeping up his brave façade. He stared back in silent defiance, clenching his hands into fists.

Gray surprised himself as he quickly got control of the anger that writhed within him. Perhaps he was too relaxed from the sex to get worked up at that moment. "You had no right; and I'm pretty sure you know that, doctor."

Though he still did not speak, there was obviously something running through the man's mind because his gaze shifted as Gray spoke.

"You've done a lot of things that I'd call questionable. You've tried to sabotage my relationship with Amanda. Plus, this, which isn't exactly something that I'd want to write a report on or seek disciplinary action over," he said, pausing to see if the doctor was considering his words. "So, I think you owe me a favor- a...very...big...favor."

"What do you want?" Brown asked. He sounded angry, but forcibly receptive.

"Amanda wants to go home."

"We've talked about that already," Brown began, but quickly deflated with one murderous look from Gray.

"You can't keep her here forever," Gray said. "You chose to play the roll of therapist, Mr. Brown. I'm sorry if you now feel differently."

His hunch had some credit to it, as the psychologist's face fell even more. "I'll sign the papers," he muttered, no longer willing to meet Mr. Gray's gaze. The doctor's eyes drifted to the view beyond the glass where Amanda had tucked herself into bed to await Gray's return.

"You think you want her," Gray said softly with an almost sympathetic tone, "but the hardest parts are still to come for her...and us."

"You still think you'll be able to kill her?" Brown asked. He turned his body in Gray's direction, but didn't actually look at him. "Either you're a better actor than I thought, or you're getting in way over your head."

"I guess we'll see."

"I suppose we will."

Gray left, taking a few moments in the hallway to gather his wits before re-entering Amanda's room. She turned to look at him, her expression once again uneasy. 

"Everything alright?"

He nodded and offered a reassuring smile. "I thought I heard someone in the hall."

"You were gone a while," she pointed out as he stepped up to her bedside.

"I ran into Dr. Brown."

"And what did he have to say?"

"Well, he was wondering if you'd prefer to go home today or go home tomorrow?"  Instantly a smile broke out on her face. "Really?"

He leaned in to give her a soft kiss and whisper that it was indeed the truth. 

Her instant decision didn't surprise him. 

They skipped cuddling to climb into a hot shower together, where she suddenly got shy again when he was just a little too obvious in appreciating her curves. Her 'mood swings' didn't bother him exactly, just threw him off. So, he kept his hands and eyes to himself, touching her only when it seemed helpful. With her gaze shifting constantly away from him, he wasn't sure if Amanda saw his stiffening erection, but when she vacated the shower first, he stayed behind a few minutes to collect himself.




Call Me Gray Ch. 02



Why did she have to have such an effect on him? He hadn't been this taken with a woman in... well...ever- not that he recalled anyway.

Amanda was already dressed and collecting what few possessions she had by the time he stepped out of the bathroom in only his underwear and jeans. He dropped the towel he'd been using on his hair, which was becoming quite scraggly since it had been nearly two months since he'd cut it and moved to embrace her. She deftly dodged his arms, forcing him to reach further to catch her around the waist and draw her in. Instead of a smile that he hoped the playful maneuver would bring, Amanda's features tightened with annoyance. 

"What's wrong?" Gray asked with tender concern. He released her, but blocked her immediate escape with his body.

She shook her head and tried again to move around him. "Nothing."

He stepped away, letting her wander and watching each set of muscle groups tense throughout her body. Honestly, he felt momentarily at a loss at what to do.

"Amanda?"

It took her several moments to slow down, but finally she paused and lowered herself into the bedside chair.  "I'm sorry," she uttered, wrapping her arms protectively across her middle.

Gray slipped to her side, kneeling beside the chair and slowly reaching out to touch her thigh. "Did I hurt you?" he asked, keeping his voice barely above a whisper.

Her eyes met his, looking confused and sorrowful. Her face was still tense and her bottom lip quivered. He speculated that she could begin crying at any moment. 

He had to say the right thing, but what was it?

"Take me home," she begged. "I can hardly stand to be here another minute."

He stood, gathering his clothes and dressing as quickly as he could manage. Amanda sat almost comatose in the chair until he started to pull on his coat. Then she stood, pulled on her own coat and grabbed her bag.

In the hallway, Gray noted that she kept her head down and gaze averted from anyone they passed. Her strides were stiff, fast and seemingly angry; and it took actual effort on his part to keep up with her.

Dr. Brown stepped into the hall and attempted to call them over, but Amanda shot silently past him as if she hadn't noticed him at all. Gray stopped beside Brown, calling out to her, but she didn't stop or slow or even flinch at his beckoning tone. She rounded the corner and was gone.

"You're sure you want to do this?" Brown asked, looking stunned at her behavior.

Gray stated with firmness, "She wants to go home."

"Yeah," he uttered, "but you and that house are not her real home, Gray."

The emotion these words triggered in him was not anger. The psychologist was being insightfully honest; and that made Gray's insecurities rise to the surface. It appeared that he too was conveniently forgetting who and what she really was...a stranger. 



Call Me Gray Ch. 03



Gray was almost ten minutes behind Amanda in leaving the building because of the paperwork both he and Brown had to complete. It was one of the setbacks to dealing with facilities and services outside the agency's influence.

Gray's mind slipped back to the situation at hand as he approached the Cherokee. To his surprise, the car was running and Amanda was sitting in the passenger seat admiring the wedding ring still tucked into the box. Obviously he had not yet given her the ring or the car keys. Yet, there she was- in possession of both.

Climbing into the driver's seat, Gray avoided eye contact until his safety belt was done up. Then he glanced over at her, attempting to look unimpressed that she had gone through his jacket pockets when he was unaware- probably when he'd lingered in the shower.

"Want to go home to the empty house or run some errands?" he asked softly when her attention did not leave the gold and diamond wedding ring.

She gave a non-committal shrug. "Errands, I guess," she responded a moment later, "just as long as we're leaving here."

Gray backed the car out of the slot and turned toward the exit. It was mildly exhilarating to think that he would never have to return to Pinewood. Of course, that also meant a lot more of his time would need to be devoted to Amanda. It was now a twenty-four hour assignment. 

Amanda's cheerless mood was lightened by the drive back into Lake Ridge. In no time she looked content again, not tense and angry like she'd been upon leaving the hospital. Gray took the initiative; reaching over to hold her hand in his while he drove with the other. "Feeling better?" he asked softly.

With a silent nod, she played with his fingers and massaged his palm before laying his hand directly on her knee and leaving it there. "I don't know what came over me," she admitted, tucking the ring box between her thighs and turning to look out the passenger window instead of at him.

"It's alright." He gave her knee a light squeeze and smiled reassuringly as she peeked back in his direction. "One day at a time, right?" He realized this sentiment was equally as beneficial for his own thinking. Amanda seemed to accept the encouragement and understanding he offered, but didn't openly respond.

They pulled into the parking lot of the massive furniture store a few miles from their house. Gray jumped out to come around and open her door. Amanda climbed out with the ring box clenched in her hand again. Gray gestured at the ring box. "Planning to carry it around?" He tried to sound like he was teasing, but really he was feeling concerned that she hadn't made any comment about the ring since finding it.

"Well," her features fell just a bit, looking uncertain, "it's just too...new."

"Because you don't recognize it?"

"Yeah; and it's all sparkly."

"I had it cleaned for you, dear. Really, if you don't like it, we'll get you another." Though he'd purposely used a tone that would convey a sense of casual non-concern about her not liking the ring, actually, it was a tactic to illicit a response from her.

"What? No, no," she said dramatically, clasping the box tightly to her chest, "we are not getting me another one. This is my ring!"

Gray reached out and snatched the box from her grasp, catching her off guard and causing a momentary look of panic to cross her features. "Then wear it," he softly chided. He withdrew the ring and tossed the box over her shoulder into the passenger seat. Then he took her left hand and put the ring on her finger. It slipped over her knuckle like it had made the trip at least a couple thousand times before. Thankfully he'd guessed correctly on the size. "I want the whole world to know you're mine," he told her and leaned in to give her a quick peck on the mouth.

Amanda stared at the ring, moving it this way and that way to make it glint in the sunlight before returning the kiss with a much more seductive quality.

He grinned at her, trying not to think about what they could do to pass the time when they got back to the house. For now, they were standing in a fairly busy parking lot with the formidable task of purchasing furniture. He took her hand and together they walked into the store.

Much later, when it was nearly time for the store to close, they completed their transactions at the customer service area and headed for the car. Amanda's eyes were wide, staring at the receipt and the total. "Gray, can we really afford this?" she asked more than once, apparently thinking his first affirmative response might not have been truthful. "This is a lot of money," she insisted.

"We don't spend this kind of money every day," he assured her. He opened the passenger door and ushered her into the seat. "We have to have furniture; and we didn't buy all that much. Have some faith in me."

"I do," she said with a hint of a pout. "It's just..."

"I know...a lot of money."

The conversation died away as they got out on the road, but Amanda's worry didn't. Gray could see it in her expression. When they pulled into the garage, she jumped out, grabbed her bag and waited for him at the door into the laundry room, still skimming through the receipt and making mental calculations.

"We need to go grocery shopping tomorrow," he said, unlocking the door and letting her enter in front of him. 

Amanda dropped the receipt on the kitchen counter as she entered from the bare laundry room. "There are a lot of things we need to do tomorrow," she agreed.

"What shall we do for dinner tonight?"

Her posture slumped then and she admitted with a weary shake of her head, "I don't feel like going back out."

"We can have something delivered," he suggested. Gray stepped closer to the wall-mounted telephone and the brand new phone book that rested on the counter below. "Have any particular cravings?"

Amanda smiled. "Surprise me," she said and turned to enter the living room en route upstairs. "I'm going to unpack and freshen up."

He tracked the sound of her movements as she went upstairs before grabbing the phone and dialing the office. The line was immediately picked up by the familiar voice of Miss Ivory, the after-hours receptionist. "It's Gray," he told her after her rehearsed welcoming message. "Is Black or Gold still in the office?"

"I'm sorry, Mr. Gray. Both have gone home for the evening. Is this an emergency?"

"No, I would like to leave Mr. Black a message though."

"Yes?"

"Tell him that Amanda has started asking questions about our finances. It's only a matter of time before she asks about my job," he said. "I need to know what to tell her. These details should have been decided before now."

"I will give him the message when he returns in the morning," she promised. "Is there anything else I can do for you, Mr. Gray."

"No. Thank you." 

As soon as he hung up with Miss Ivory, he thumbed through the yellow pages to get a full idea of the spectrum of choices from which he could choose for dinner. A few minutes later, he made the call for two pasta dishes, warm breadsticks and a salad with vinaigrette dressing to be delivered from a nearby Italian restaurant. Once he'd hung up the phone, Gray went about setting the table with the paper plates and cups he had on hand. 

When Amanda came back to the kitchen, she had changed into a simple dark green shirt with a rounded neckline. She still wore her jeans, he noticed; and was barefoot. These were important facts to remember about her and possibly explained the uncertain look on her features after inspecting the clothes in her wardrobe for the first time. Perhaps what some women considered fashionable, just didn't appeal to Amanda.

"Food is on the way," Gray told her, reaching out to hook her around the waist as she drew near. Her expression wasn't exactly unhappy. She looked tired, worn out and uncertain. She stepped up to him, snuggling against his front and resting her head on his shoulder. "How are you doing?" he asked her softly.

She answered with a compulsory smile. "Are we sleeping in the guest room tonight?" she asked him.

"Well, that is where the bed is located currently. I thought we decided that the new bed will go in the master bedroom."

"Yeah," she said with a soft sigh and pulled away from him to wander into the living room. Gray followed, watching her closely and trying to guess what she was thinking as she moved around the room, staring at the walls, looking out the windows and skimming her feet purposely across the beige carpeting.

"Empty," Gray said, throwing out the lone word with a hint of amusement. Even he, who didn't especially give thought to his living space most times, was affected by how much open space surrounded them.

Amanda turned. He could tell that she had thought of something by the slight change in her expression and the lift of her chin.

"Rose," she said, her cheeks seeming to flush in response. "I think we should paint this room a light rose color."

"Pink?" he said, sounding mildly affronted.

"Yes," she affirmed with a sweet smirk. "I want pink in my living room."

Gray looked around, trying to envision the white walls a soft shade of pink instead. "I guess it won't be so bad," he said after a while, knowing full well that she'd get her way. 

"Can we go paint shopping tomorrow too?"

He nodded. "We'd better if we're going to get anything done before the furniture arrives on Saturday."

"That's why I wouldn't let you buy a couch," she told him. "You have to consider color very carefully when putting a room together."

Gray spotted headlights coming up the drive through the front windows. "I see," he said. "I thought you were just trying to be difficult. I refuse to buy a pink couch, though, or anything covered in flowers either." He headed for the door, letting her think over his teasing while he greeted the delivery driver, exchanging cash for the containers of food.

Amanda beat him to the kitchen and took one of the bags as he entered. Together they laid out dinner while she mentioned needing to shop for dishes and other kitchen necessities.

"We'll start a list," he promised, pulling out her chair and coaxing her over. "Now it is time to eat."

So, they sat at the small table, munching on pasta, salad and breadsticks while Amanda threw out other color ideas for the various rooms of their abode. Gray tried to be helpful and honest in his responses to these suggestions. It helped that her tastes were mostly simple. Her choices of furniture earlier at the store had demonstrated her preference for function over anything highly decorative or over-priced. 

Finally, since Amanda's ideas continued to flow endlessly, Gray gave in and sought out a notepad and pen to take notes of all she wished to accomplish the following day. It was doubtful they'd have enough hours to cover the whole list. Later, he brought the notepad along as he trailed her through the ground level, turning off lights and retiring upstairs to the guest room. 

"I want to get some picture frames too," Amanda said as they began to disrobe for bed. She turned toward Gray as she pulled her shirt over her head. "We should put some of our pictures on display in the living room, maybe above the fireplace."

"Sure," he said, kicking off his shoes. He slipped his jeans and underwear off his hips and sat down on the bed to finish removing them along with his socks. With his back to her, he pulled off his own shirt, scooped up the pile of clothes and tossed them accurately into the open laundry bag that was nearly spilling over in the corner of the room.

Gray felt the mattress shift with her movements. The warmth of her fingertips touched the back of his neck, kneading softly before slipping down his front. Bare breasts pressed against his back; and the weight of her arms came down on his shoulders as she tightened the embrace. "That's another thing we should do soon," Amanda said softly. He assumed she was referring to the laundry, though purchasing some pajamas for them both was likely to make the list as well. 

Gray looked over his shoulder at her, marveling at how relaxed she was, snuggled flesh to flesh. "Ready for bed?"

She nodded, releasing him and moved backwards on her knees to give him some space. Gray glanced over her exposed form, enjoying the view for a moment before he turned off the main light and climbed under the covers. After lighting the bedside lamp, Amanda slipped in the other side, settling on her back and pulling the sheet and blanket up to almost her chin. Her eyes immediately closed. Gray, lying on his side facing her, fought the urge to shift closer and let his hands do some sensual exploration. 

They'd had a long day and perhaps it would be too presumptuous of him to expect her to want sex. He closed his eyes and tried to clear his mind of thoughts. He couldn't remember the last time he'd shared a bed with someone through an entire night, let alone a beautiful naked woman.

"Gray?" came Amanda's tentative voice a few minutes into his mental winding-down routine. His eyes immediately opened and focused on hers. She had not stirred or turned off the lamp yet. "Are you tired?"

"Some," he admitted and hoped she would not take his honesty to mean she couldn't make a request of him. Now he moved closer, which wasn't far at all in a full-size bed, reaching out a hand to skim across the warm, smooth skin of her stomach as he came to rest against her side. "What is it?" he asked, planting a gentle kiss on her temple.

Amanda sighed, staring at the ceiling in contemplation. "I'm feeling a little lost, I suppose. How did I used to spend my time?" she asked softly. "What were my hobbies?"

It was exactly the moment Gray had feared since taking on the assignment. What little he did know of her, wasn't easily translated when the firm had not concocted her background. For weeks, Gray had begged them to finalize their decisions about the cover story that Brown had only haphazardly scripted.

She liked to read, he knew, go for walks and spend time outside. He could probably even conclude that she had enjoyed working out based on her exceptional level of physical fitness when she'd been captured.

He hesitated far too long and knew it. Amanda scrutinized his features and was interpreting his delay. She frowned, losing the gleam of trust that had reassured Gray all afternoon that he was doing the right thing bringing her home. The situation was taking a wrong turn, yet Gray couldn't speak. Though he knew it was crucial to recover with some believable excuse or distraction, Gray feared that Dr. Brown had been correct in his hesitation to discharge Amanda from the hospital so soon.

Amanda was the next to speak again. Her body had tightened and her flesh suddenly seemed cooler to his touch, but it might have been a skewed observation on his part. "You don't really know...do you?" she said perceptively. Amanda was visually shaken by this discovery. She shifted away from him. "I know you said that things weren't always great between us, but... did we not know each other anymore?"

Gray sat up, drawing his knees closer so he could rest his arms on top of them. Slowly pulling his gaze from her troubled features, Gray stared at the blanket in front of him. Things had been going so well until now. He shook his head and ran his hands through his hair, absent-mindedly stopping when his fingertips found the smooth, puffed up skin of the scar on his scalp. He had decided a while back to think of the scar as a reminder that life could be unpredictable, but he didn't often let himself remember the circumstances surrounding the old wound.

It's normal to question what you can't remember, he thought.

"Gray? Please talk to me."

He dropped his hands. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her clutching the blankets against her naked front. "I don't define you, Amanda. You have to be yourself. Do what you want to do."

Her frown deepened as she continued to stare at him.

"I'm here now," he uttered, continuing to avert his gaze. "Maybe I haven't always been, but I am here now."

The silence following this statement was profound. Gray thought he must balance his uncertain emotions with those a husband ought to be feeling in a situation like this. Strangely enough, he wasn't actually doing much, other than riding out the scene and trying not to make it worse.

She asked softly, "Do you love me?"

Gray looked at her, letting her capture and hold his gaze. She was trembling and that made him want to hold her. He hated the lies that were meant to draw them closer because really they only built an invisible barrier that would someday separate them. At least in this instance, he could speak the truth. "I do," he said softly, but with conviction as he internalized the honesty of the words. Even as he allowed himself to admit his developing feelings for her, the sentiment was tainted with the deception of this role-play they were cast into. 

A heightened awareness spread across her features and relaxed her posture. She nodded slowly, but quickly looked guilt-ridden, as is she had been bullying him with her accusations. "I wish I hadn't said anything." 

Gray laid back on the mattress and reached for her. She moved quickly into his embrace, pressing her warm face against his chest as she let out a pre-cry sigh. "I just want to understand."

Gray rubbed his hands across and down her bare back, ending at her bottom before starting back up again along a predictable path that honed in on the various muscle groups where she commonly carried her stress. As he massaged her, he kissed her hair and forehead. "You're a strong woman, Amanda. You might not feel it right now, but the strength is still in there somewhere."

In time she relaxed again and her breathing came slower and lighter. Her tears had fallen for only a few minutes and been wiped away. The scene was saved, the cover intact, but Gray was now feeling lost too.

Amanda slid her left arm under his and out of the embrace. Her hand skimmed down Gray's side to his hip before moving lower to touch and caress his genitals with her palm.

Gray froze, letting her explore and handle him while secretly wondering if she'd take such liberties if she didn't think they were married.

She took hold of his penis, applying more pressure as her fingers moved up and down the shaft. Gray inhaled deeply, taking in the lavender smell of her hair, and tentatively continued his massaging of her back as a low, appreciative growl built up in the back of his throat. The stimulation was just what he needed to reawaken his senses and mental processes. 

Gray reached down, cupping her bottom in his hands and pulled her closer for a long kiss that soon involved tangling tongues and lip nibbling as they lay on their sides, pressed front to front. 

Amanda flung her leg over his hip and broke the kiss to reach down past her buttocks and reclaim her hold on his erect penis. She guided him to her opening, rubbing the tip against her warm folds to get it slick with her juices.

Nibbling and kissing her shoulder, Gray thrust forward gently into her heat, feeling Amanda momentarily twinge at the intrusion. She eased back onto her side, setting her head on his left bicep as Gray gripped behind her bent knee and began slow, deliberate thrusts.

"Are you alright?" he asked her softly as he moved his further hardening organ in and out of the tight and slick passage to her womb.

Amanda nodded, shifting her hips ever-so-gently in time with him. She dug her heel into the back of his leg and held his free arm for stability.

"Not sore from earlier?"

"A little, but... I kind of like it," she said.

It was another strange confession that Gray wasn't going to analyze in the moments of building rapture. He spent too much of his time analyzing people and situations. Right then, he wanted to lose himself in the feel and scent of her.




Call Me Gray Ch. 03



Their breathing grew more excited as their bodies moved together; and soon Gray couldn't maintain the slow pace any longer. His arousal was stalling, needing just the right increase in stimulation to get over the plateau. He began to thrust faster and with more urgency. He switched his grip from the back of her knee to her thigh, drawing her even closer. This deepened the penetration and caused his scrotum to slap against the heat of her body. 

"Ooooh, yes," Amanda whispered dramatically, throwing back her head and exposing her jiggling breasts to his passionate kisses. She bucked her pelvis against him, matching and then increasing the rhythm of the thrusts.

Incredible heat radiated from their bodies as the friction pushed Gray toward release. "I'm coming soon," he warned her, leaning back to get the maximum thrust as he slammed into her.

Amanda unclenched her hand from his arm, moving it between her thighs. Her long, slender fingers parted her labia and attacked her clitoris, rubbing at the sensitive bud frantically with immediate results. She began to moan in quick syllabic sounds as she writhed against his strong body, exciting Gray even more. 

"Come... come now!" Amanda unexpectedly commanded before letting loose an amazingly loud groan of pleasure. That was all Gray could stand. He buried his shaft deep in her womb and exploded, filling her with his sperm as every muscle in his body clenched.

As his mind cleared, the sounds of their panting filled his ears. He opened his eyes to stare at Amanda's sweat-glistened breasts and leaned in to lick and suckle the salty, pink nipples as his hand sought out and kneaded her buttocks.

"Was that make-up sex?" Amanda asked breathily, sounding awed and amused.

Gray chuckled against her skin, but did not respond. He withdrew from inside her, wishing he was younger and more easily capable of taking her again sooner. Though, after two rough sessions in one day, Gray assumed Amanda would be done for the night anyway, and he was right. They both were feeling tired. So, after a short clean up session, they snuggled under the blankets, exchanging soft kisses and caresses until they finally fell asleep.

--------------

Gray followed Amanda's lead over the next couple of days, looking for what specifically triggered her mood swings. Activities such as shopping, which they did a lot of that first week, had mixed results as she liked selecting items for themselves or the house, but not the rising costs. Also, when it came to time actually spent in the house, she would become fidgety. All the empty space and lack of color depressed her and with the delivery of the new furniture delayed until the weekend, she preferred to be out in the yard, raking leaves or strolling among the flowerbeds, picking stray weeds. 

Gray used her escapes outside to paint the kitchen and bedrooms and catch up with the firm, speaking in length with Black, Brown and even Green, who was covering his case load, but giving few helpful answers to his inquiries. 

The answer to his job question finally came on Friday morning while he and Amanda were diligently painting the living room walls and ceiling, covering the harsh white with her coveted shade of pale rose. Gray heard a car engine in front of the house and immediately put down his brush. Stepping across the laid plastic, cautiously avoiding obstacles such as paint cans and the ladder, Gray finally reached the window to see Mr. Green strolling up the front walk with a small bouquet of pink and white roses.

"Who is it?" Amanda asked, stepping closer to take a peek. When Gray didn't immediately respond, she asked, "Do we know him?"

Gray was at a loss for words. No one had warned him of a possible visit. He moved to the door, feeling Amanda trail behind and waited a moment for the first chime of the bell before casually opening the door.

Green was dressed in dark slacks and a crisp white shirt without a tie. He flashed a wide grin at Gray in his paint-speckled attire and jumped right into speaking. "Don't be angry. I know you wanted more time to get settled and all, but...the boss was worrying. You know... that you might choose not to come back to work at all."

Letting his expression turn less apprehensive and more cordial toward Green, Gray gave a non-committal shrug. "We're taking it slow," he told him. "There's a lot we haven't talked about yet." 

In other words, 'I have no idea why you're here or what you have planned'.

Green nodded, turning his attention to Amanda who wore a somewhat baffled expression. "Good morning, Amanda. I suppose you don't remember me."

There was a pause, during which there was a moment when she just might have registered some form of familiarity for the tall, well-toned young man. Then she shook her head. "No, I don't," she said softly.

Green appeared disappointed by this admission, but smiled reassuringly. "It's alright. We know things have been rough for you two. I'm Aaron. These are for you," he said, handing her the wrapped roses. "I'm glad to see you are doing so much better." 

"They're beautiful," Amanda said, lifting the bundle to her nose to sniff their grand fragrance. "That was very kind of you, Aaron."

"You're welcome," he said, pulling off a very genuine-looking expression of relief and caring in Gray's opinion. Then he turned back to Gray. "Can we talk... just for a few minutes? Perhaps take a stroll down the drive?"

Gray looked at Amanda. "Do you mind, Love? It's about work."

Amanda looked puzzled, but agreed. "Don't get lost," she warned playfully as Gray stepped out on the porch with Green. She remained in the doorway, cradling her flowers as the two men walked casually down the long drive flanked by the fire cherry trees.

"Green, what the hell?!" Gray said once he was sure his voice wouldn't carry back to the house. He kept his front toward the street so Amanda wasn't likely to see his annoyed expression either.

"You wanted answers. I'm here to deliver them."

"You couldn't have called?" 

"No," Green said, but didn't offer an explanation. He asked with a serious tone, "How do you think Amanda would react if you tell her you two are in the spy business?"

Gray's steps came to a halt. For a moment, he wasn't sure he'd heard correctly. "What?"

"Brown has agonized over this for days," Green explained. "Your office is being redecorated as we speak. You and Amanda are coming to work for the firm as Mr. and Mrs. Gray."

If Gray had been any more stunned, his mouth might have fallen open. "She stole top secret files from us; and now they want to give her access to more? What are Brown and Black thinking?"

"It's all stimuli to help her regain her memories. She'll only have the basic security clearance anyway."

"Clearance or no clearance won't make a bit of difference when she's managed to hack the system before," he argued.

Green shrugged and shook his head lazily. "It's not my call."

"She was tortured there," Gray added angrily, practically starting a list of reasons this was a terrible idea. "She's going to recognize Brown and Rose- if not White."

"I'm only the messenger," Green said, looking hesitant to argue points. He withdrew his cellular phone from his pocket and offered it to Gray. "Call the bosses if you're so adamant."

Gray reached for the phone, holding it in his hand as he stared at its buttons with uncertainty. Did he really want to make this call? Could they afford to overlook such a serious security risk? Surely he wouldn't be the first person to have voiced a concern, but if Green was here delivering the news, the debate was already over- with out Gray's input.

"This is a bad idea," he had to say one more time.

"It might be just what she needs," Green said, sounding optimistic then changing his tone slightly to show an almost friendly concern for his mentor. "Do you want to be stuck in this gig forever, Gray. Aren't you going crazy?"

Considering the conflict of thoughts and emotions within him, it would have been so easy to lose his temper further with Green, but what would he say exactly? 'I don't want her to remember because then I'll be her enemy again.' No way in hell was he going to admit any such thing- especially to Green, whose loyalty was still being established with only a half-year of employment with the firm.

Shaking his head, Gray shoved the phone back into Green's hand. "I assume they're prepping everyone for this."

Green smiled. "Of course; we're professionals."

Ignoring the younger man's smugness, Gray continued with his questions. "We've got an assignment?"

"I'm sure they'll come up with something," he said, instead of straightforwardly answering no. "When do you want her to start? Monday morning might be best. It'll give us the weekend to finalize the details."

Gray turned and headed back up the drive toward the house. "Fine. Make sure she has all the clearance, documentation and equipment issued an operative. Mr. Red might need your help getting the stuff together."

Green didn't try to catch up with Gray's long strides. "Yes, sir," he said, following behind until he reached his car. He waved at Amanda who was standing in the living room window and got a return wave before climbing in and taking off.

Amanda met Gray at the door as he stepped back inside. He didn't mask his irritation so her expression turned even more concerned. "Well? What's going on?"

"Looks like we need to have an important talk," Gray said seriously, holding her gaze and wondering just how he was going to start this conversation.

The expression on Amanda's face didn't change much during his several-minute-long, improvised explanation. So, Gray wasn't sure if she believed a word of what he'd said. At least some of the information was true. 

"Are you going to say something?" he finally asked after a long silence.

Amanda vacated the kitchen chair, one of the few places to sit down in the entire house, and turned to look out into the back yard. She crossed her arms in front of her and stood very straight and still for awhile. Though she might not have noticed it herself, her breathing picked up pace the longer she stood in silence.

"I know it's hard to believe, but that's why I haven't been able to tell you much." Gray actually felt himself growing desperate for her to speak.

Eventually she gave an ambiguous sigh. "I can't be a spy," Amanda said softly, still gazing out the window.

"Why not?"

"I don't know. I just can't. In the real world people are not spies. It's crazy."

"Some of them are," Gray assured her. 

"This is a joke, right?"

"No. You really are a spy." His tone filled with pride as he admitted, "In fact, you are one of the best I've ever seen."

This comment got Amanda's full attention. She turned from the window, looking critical, yet willing to listen. "Really?"

"You literally kick ass, my love. The agency can hardly wait to get you on the payroll."

"Mr. and Mrs. Gray..." she said, testing out the sound of it for herself. Her expression remained uncertain. "What if I can't remember how to do my job?"

"Then I might have to kill you," he said with a rich, teasing tone and keeping his mind from analyzing the irony of his response.

Amanda growled disapprovingly, stepping close to slap gently at his chest. Then she chuckled, which dissolved the anger from her features. "This is ridiculous," she insisted, searching his eyes. "I'd be a fool to believe you."

Gray shrugged. At least part of her believed or she wouldn't be so agitated. That was enough to build on. "Either way, I promised Mr. Green that we'd report for work Monday morning. That is...unless you plan to quit."

Her eyes rolled, her cheeks grew a little pink and Amanda gave him one more playful slap before withdrawing and heading back toward the abandoned paint job in the living room. "Can we get back to this project, please- since it is obvious neither one of us paints for a living?" she asked, inserting some humor of her own as she derailed the discussion completely.

There were a lot of things about working for the agency Gray wanted to tell her, but he didn't have specific instructions from the bosses and knew he shouldn't start down a path that might lead to the wrong assumptions. Besides, she wasn't asking him questions. So, he shouldn't be too quick to bog her down with details- even if he was suddenly feeling eager to share a slice of his real life with her.

He followed her back to the living room, picked up his brush and set right to work again in the attempt to avoid thinking about the forthcoming Monday morning. 

They tackled the dining room next, which meant washing out all the paint equipment and laying clean plastic before starting again with a pale, golden yellow. Consequently, the hour was late when they finished cleaning up the second paint mess of the day. 

Amanda was standing in the kitchen in just her bra and underwear when Gray returned from storing the equipment in the garage. "Give me your clothes," Amanda said instantly. "We're not going to risk paint transfer all over our house."

Gray shed the momentary irritation at being treated like a child, replacing it with appreciation that she was asking him to appear semi-nude in her presence. Despite his constant thoughts of ravaging her, they'd only made love in the house their first night; and he'd realized that Amanda might have felt obligated to make love because of their 'disagreement'. So, he hadn't pushed her in that direction, but took every opportunity to touch and hold her that was presented to him. 

He kicked off his shoes and removed his pants and shirt. Amanda took the cloth articles from him, balling them up and tucking them under her arm. As she turned and headed barefoot for the stairs, Gray noticed dried paint on her arms and in her hair. A quick inspection revealed he had similar spots where he'd stepped a little too close to the wet walls, not to mention the paint spots on his hands.

Amanda had started the shower in the master bathroom by the time he trudged up the stairs and entered the guest room. He placed his watch on the side table and sat heavily on the bed. He was already feeling signs of soreness in his body; and his stomach was protesting that they'd worked all through dinner without stopping to eat anything. Gray leaned over, placing his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands. He rubbed at the tension around his eyes and temples and contemplated if he could manage to stay awake long enough for his turn in the shower. He felt tired and worn down, like he'd just come home from an extremely physical mission. That could mean only one thing. He'd let himself go for too long. It was time to get back in the gym.

It wasn't a sound that grabbed his attention. It was a gut feeling that instantly had Gray on his feet and whipping around to find Amanda standing in the partially-opened closet doorway wearing a smirk along with her underwear. "Gotcha!" She announced with a loud chuckle.

Gray's heart thumped heavily in his chest. She had surprised him, in more ways than one. Now he had to recover quickly. "What... are you doing?" he asked her with strained calm.

"Spying on you," she said, stepping out of the closet and placing her hands on her hips. "If I'd been armed, you'd be a goner for sure."

He stared at those mocking, green eyes and thin, smiling lips and couldn't seem to decide if he was angry, amused or humbled. "You played me," he said with genuine disbelief, and turned his head to acknowledge the sound of the shower in the other room.

Amanda shrugged. "I felt inspired to practice."

"And here I thought you weren't taking me seriously," Gray said gruffly, heading out of the room. Amanda trailed behind him as he entered the master bedroom and continued on to the bathroom where he promptly shut off the running water. He turned back to her, noting that the playfulness had left her features, leaving worry behind. 

"I'm sorry," she said, shaking her head in a show of shame. "I shouldn't tease you like that." 

Gray knew his irritation was fueled both by his current state of fatigue and his failure to keep his mind on the mission. Apparently he was wrongfully treating this assignment like a form of amusement instead of a serious situation- even though he'd constantly told himself not to make that mistake. Amanda wasn't the innocent housewife, by any means.

"Amanda..." he sighed and looked away, "what we do isn't a game. If we step into that office on Monday acting anything less than professional..."

"I understand," she said abruptly. Her gaze left his, searching for something else to stare at rather than him. There was a moment when she looked like she might cry, but didn't. Stiffening her posture, Amanda took a step back, but was quickly stopped by Gray who reached out to gently grasp her at the back of the neck.

When it came to Amanda, Gray hated being the bad guy. "I'm sorry," he whispered, easing forward into the space between them and leaning close, just short of touching or kissing her. He offered her a hint of a smile before whispering, "You did good. I was a goner for sure."

She smiled, accepting the compliment. "I won't do it again," she promised then pressed her mouth against his in an urgent kiss that became more seductive and greedy.

Gray pulled gently out of the lip-lock to inquire, "Are we going to do this every time we fight?" His tone showed it was a genuine question- not that he minded making up in this fashion.

"I don't know. It seems to work so far." She started kissing his neck and shoulder, using similar pressure techniques that he'd used on her before to heighten sensation. Logic told him to break up the fun, yet curiosity and the longing for her touch got the better of him. Gray shifted back against the counter to help keep his balance as all his blood seemed to slowly drain to his feet. He closed his eyes, resting his head against the side cabinet as it grew heavier on his neck.

God, she's good, he thought, reeling in the rapture of her lips, teeth and tongue working on his flesh while her hands held him at the waist and lightly dug in with her fingernails. It was a sensual contrast of pleasure and pain that had a powerful effect on him. Coupled with lack of food and the lingering fatigue, her efforts were incapacitating.

"Gray?"

"Hmmmm?"

"You're not going to faint are you?"

He heard himself chuckle, but it sounded distant. He forced his eyes open and noted that his vision was darkened and fuzzy. Perhaps he really was going to faint- a realization that seemed very frightening to him at that moment. 

"Gray?" 

He clutched the edge of the counter, keeping still so his head could clear.

"Wow, I didn't expect that to work so well on you." 

"It's very effective when executed well," he said groggily, fully aware that he was in no condition to fend her off, should Amanda suddenly feel inspired to try some other aspects of an operative's training. 

Amanda laughed openly and nestled against his front, wrapping her arms around his neck and nibbling softly at his ear. Her fingers splayed across his scalp, twisting and tangling in his hair. "I don't know what's gotten into me tonight," she said, sounding giddy and exhilarated with the fix she'd put him in. She found the scar on his scalp along his temple and traced the length and thickness of it with her index finger, but didn't comment on the discovery.

Gray knew it would take several minutes for him to feel better. He needed to eat, bathe and sleep very soon. "You're enthusiastic. Can't fault you for that," he muttered, softly pulling her hand out of his hair. Then with an attempted smile, he added, "I have a feeling you're going to keep me on my toes from now on." 

Amanda did not show any sign of mercy for his predicament. Her grip on him remained firm and her nails still dug at his flesh. "I'd prefer you flat on your back beneath me," she purred in a tone saturated with strong desire. She had him forcefully pinned against the counter, her stomach and hips pressed against his and her full breasts seemingly right under his chin. "You're not too tired for a make-up session, are you?" She grinned wickedly. Her stare was full of lust with a gleam of animalistic hunger.




Call Me Gray Ch. 03



Gray took her in, mentally, visually and sensually as he fought off a raw feeling of apprehension in his gut. A person didn't gain this much confidence so quickly; and certainly could not change personality so drastically- mood swings or not. There wasn't a sign of the insecurities that so often plagued her. Quite literally, he was face-to-face with the same woman that had infiltrated the firm, matched him nearly blow-by-blow in a fight and almost escaped capture.

The game was over.

"I'm so screwed," he said, realizing too late that he'd actually verbalized that thought. He let his heavy eyelids close, taking in a resigning breath. "So, my dear, how long you been playing me?" he asked softly.

Amanda's body stiffened against him. There was hesitation before she spoke. "Are you upset?" she asked in a conspiring whisper. "We put forth a lot of effort on your account."

"We?" he asked, losing some of the calm that he desperately needed to get himself out of this mess. Normally, he'd attempt to overpower her with his strength, but he wasn't exactly up-to-par at the moment. His head was still swimming, his limbs felt impossibly heavy and his flesh tingled where she'd worked him over with her mouth.

"Will you come peacefully?" she asked, slipping her left hand under the waistline of his boxers and lightly scratching at the skin there. He forced open his lids to note that her expression was still predatory and yet, despite his condition, he thought he could still detect an authentic fondness for him.

"I guess it depends on where we're going," he said, trying to sound witty because he didn't feel confident at all. How could he have been so stupid? He'd been drawn in and outplayed by Amanda at his firm's own scheme.

Gray felt a sudden sting on the left side of his lower back and managed to turn his head in time to see her hand drop a small syringe into the sink. 

Where in the hell had she stashed that? Or more importantly, when and where had she acquired it? 

Beside the sink stood Mr. Green's bouquet of roses in a tall plastic drinking cup. The pink, white and green of the flowers blurred in Gray's vision; and he didn't have much time to ponder before the room was truly twirling in front of him. He gave Amanda the strongest shove he could muster and shifted his heavy, unwilling frame toward the door. His legs felt like bags of wet sand. Gray managed a clumsy sidestep, but immediately lost his balance. His sluggish reflexes kept him from grabbing the counter for support and he struck his head on the doorframe as he fell.



Call Me Gray Ch. 04



Gray woke from a heavy, dreamless sleep with seemingly nothing more than the weight of blankets restricting his movement. His vision was blurred, yet he could tell he wore no restraints. He groaned as he sat up, straining sore muscles in his back and shoulders. As he rubbed at his eyes, he found a tender bruise on his forehead. Strangely enough, the spot felt colder than the flesh around it.

His hands dropped to the comforter and he stared at the dark, angular designs of the print gradually coming to recognize that it was the pattern that he and Amanda had purchased for the new bed. In fact, he was in the very model of bed they had chosen from the store showroom. This was their master bedroom with the medium gray carpeting and the new paint job, only now it was furnished. 

Gray was baffled, but slowly pulling his faculties together. He threw back the covers and slid his legs over the edge of the bed. Both actions emphasized the discomfort in his muscles. He pushed ever-so-carefully to his feet, a motion that seemed to take forever with his limbs feeling weak and was accompanied with some dizziness. Doubt rose in his ability to pull off an escape, but he pushed aside such cowardly, undermining thoughts. 

What the hell did she inject me with? 

Bracing himself against the bed, Gray tried to focus and listen to the sounds of the house. There was a hum of conversation somewhere on the ground level, which he barely managed to detect through the low whooshing of his own blood circulating through his head. At that moment, it was impossible for him to determine who was in the house with him. He needed confirmation, but also protection. In his current state, he couldn't trust his fighting skills to be enough to take down multiple assailants. He needed a gun, which he obviously had not carried on his person since starting the assignment. His personal sidearm, a Glock 22 .40 caliber, was stashed in the guest bedroom closet behind the vent cover on the wall. That was his first priority. If he couldn't contain this situation himself, he would have to attempt escape or at least find a way to notify the agency that he needed help. Acquiring clothes and his cell phone were the second priority. 

Gray shifted his weight back onto his own feet to test his balance. He felt some improvement, but distrusted that he would make it as far as the bedroom door without tumbling over. He couldn't afford to let a fall tip them off downstairs that he was awake. Perhaps there was even someone on guard outside the bedroom in the hallway. 

He decided it would be necessary for him to crawl to the door, and was about to get down on all fours when a loud creak from the distant staircase caught his muddled attention. Having spent a lot of time here in the house, Gray knew that the fifth stair from the top creaked. Possibly Amanda hadn't noted that fact consciously; or someone less familiar with the house was coming up.

It was best to look as non-threatening as possible since he couldn't get into a good position in time for a surprise attack. Gray's eased back onto the bed and pulled his legs up under the blankets, which he then used to recover himself. 

Momentarily, the bedroom door opened and Amanda stepped in. She wore trim black jeans with a matching tank top, but no shoes or socks. Gray noted that she was not armed; though she held a small ice bag in her hand, which she pitched onto the bed between Gray's legs. "Here. Fresh ice for your bruise," she said, not looking all that surprised that he was awake. 

Gray picked up the bag and placed it gingerly on his forehead. He chose not to thank her for it, instead he countered with an unwavering glare.

Amanda shut the bedroom door and walked over to sit silently in the cushioned rocking chair between the window and the entry to the bathroom. She tucked her bare feet up under her and started to rock. Her posture was stiff and her attention split between him and what she could see through the adjacent window.

"I see our furniture arrived," Gray said a few moments later, pretending to take in the room again, though his attention never really left Amanda.

"Yesterday."

That meant it was now Sunday; and from the amount of light shining in the curtained window beside the rocking chair, Gray figured it was going on ten in the morning. "Mr. Green help with all this?" he asked in a hard tone and making a sweeping gesture at the furniture.

"Yes. He was very helpful," she said.

"Oh, I'm sure he was," Gray commented with a hint of amusement. She would probably realize that he was referring to the syringe. Mr. Green was the obvious culprit and therefore accomplice. 

Gray felt deceived and angry. He was one of the better operatives at the agency. How could he have messed up so badly? Of course, the blunder hadn't made much change in his situation- other than releasing them both from the obligations of the marital roleplay. It was turning out to be a very different kind of capture than he'd ever seen. "What are we still doing here?" he asked with curious agitation. 

Amanda stopped rocking. She looked at him and her green eyes seemed to darken as her features tightened. Her words were biting. "Would you prefer a torture chamber and the confines of a hard, metal chair? Perhaps some restraints pulled tight enough to cut your flesh? I could start breaking your bones if you wish."

The contrast between her capture and his was too profound to dismiss. Despite his anger and wounded pride, Gray could sense her hesitation even with her harsh expression.

Gray had queries, suspicions and overall reservations about what was happening. He didn't know if he trusted her. Yet, he didn't completely distrust her either, which actually made complete sense in the intricacies of the spy world. Even the enemy sometimes told the truth just as a friend could lie to your face.

"I don't know who you are or what you want from me. Whatever your grievances with my firm, you must realize I will not betray my employers."

She shifted in the chair, placing her feet flat on the carpeting and leaned forward to plant her elbows on her knees. She rested her face in her hands and sat unmoving for several moments. It was a prime moment for Gray to make a move, whether to escape or to subdue her, but he calculated the distance, speed and strength required to be more than he could manage in his condition. 

Finally Amanda took in a deep breath and sat upright again. Her tone was bitter when she spoke. "You knew me very well once; you just don't remember."

There was a flutter of thought and a pang of indecision that made his automatic, indifferent response die on Gray's lips. He lowered the ice bag, trying to read more into her features than what she was outwardly showing. The urge to touch the scar above his temple arose, but was squelched; and he remained silent

"Amanda?" Green's familiar voice called from somewhere downstairs. 

This afforded Gray a distraction from the uneasiness caused by her last statement. "How long has Mr. Green been your man?" he asked coolly. It was another sore spot for Gray that he'd not discovered earlier that the agent he was mentoring had turned traitor.

"Aaron, he's awake!" Amanda yelled toward the door. She then switched to a much lower, yet still hardened tone to tell Gray, "He has been your man from the very beginning."

He knew they weren't talking about any sort of romantic relationship. In a world of hard-earned loyalties and constant distrust, an operative needed to figure out who'd support them when no one else would. In the six months since his hiring at the firm, Mr. Green had not proven to Gray that he was 'his man'. The recent discovery of Green's betrayal implied to Gray that his instincts about the man had been correct.

Mr. Green's urgent strides carried him up the stairs and down the hall to the master bedroom in no time. He came in, aiming his standard Glock 9mm and looking for trouble. As soon as he interpreted the scene as under control, he lowered the gun.

"Everything ok?" he asked Amanda, shifting his attention between her and Gray, who was still mostly tucked under the covers. 

"I don't know what to say," she admitted to Green, showing a bit of softness in her tight features.

"Just tell him," Mr. Green said. His tone was hopeful and encouraging. "He'll start putting the pieces together on his own."

Gray jumped in, sounding more agitated than he really felt. "Someone had better start talking. My patience is going to wear thin soon; and if you really think the two of you can keep me prisoner with no restraints and a single 9mm, it just isn't going to happen."

Amanda scoffed, seeming to poke fun at his bravado. She likely knew the full effects of the drug and doubted his physical abilities as well.

Mr. Green chuckled briefly, shaking his head. "See. I told you he hadn't changed that much," he said, directing his comment to Amanda.

"No, believe me," she said, "he's changed quite a bit, at least in some ways."

"Hey," Gray called out, capturing their attention with his demanding tone. "What is going on?"

"Well... to put it simply," Green said with a grandiose, overly-pleased tone, "we're rescuing you."

Amanda groaned lightly. "Don't put it that way."

Her soft chastisement irritated her accomplice. Green came back with a sulky, "Why not? Aren't we? That was the original plan, you know."

Gray stared at them, watching their expressions and body language as they interacted. There was familiarity there beyond the relationship of colleagues.

Amanda saw him staring. Her expression grew taut again as she shook her head with either uncertainty or possible guilt. "Gray," she began slowly, pausing before tacking on the question, "how did you get that scar on the side of your head?"

Of all the possible questions they could be asking him, that one momentarily stumped him. It wasn't that he didn't have a response. He wondered what the significance of the scar was to her. He considered if he should answer truthfully, if at all? He decided to take the chance. "I got shot- a deep graze," he admitted. He kept his tone cold and rather flat. "It was a long time ago."

"Is that what caused you to lose your memory?" she continued to question. In her green eyes there was a knowing spark that seemed to indicate that Amanda knew how he would respond.

Gray started to nod, but stopped himself and froze up, casting his gaze downward to the bedspread. He didn't want to be talking about this. He didn't want to ponder how she knew that about him. Most of the time, he managed to overlook that he was living off roughly three years of experiences and precious few flashes from his childhood. Being reminded of his memory loss didn't help him feel more secure about the current situation.

The words that suddenly flooded out of his mouth were laced with anger despite being mostly controlled. "I don't need rescuing! I don't care who you people are, but I'm perfectly happy with my life as it is now." He looked up to see their reactions and was surprised to see that Green was more stunned by this outburst than Amanda, who hardly flinched at all.

"Really?" she asked, sounding sarcastic. "Are you truly happy, Gray, not knowing who you are?"

"I won't listen to your lies," he shot back and threw aside the covers. Green gripped his Glock, but didn't aim it since Gray fell back against the bed as soon as he tried to get his footing. Apparently fast movements were out of the question.

Amanda stared at Gray for awhile before she stood and reached out to touch Green on the shoulder in passing. "I guess we should go," she uttered. "If these past months haven't triggered any memories, we're simply out of luck."

"But... Amanda..." Green stammered, glancing between her and Gray with a look of wide-eyed disbelief. "You haven't even mentioned..."

"Aaron!" she jumped in, silencing him with her agitation. "Not now. Let's go. Just give him the damn files." She pushed past him and strode out of the room with such fervor that her dark ponytail swayed behind her.

His curiosity still peaked, Gray listened to her descend to the ground level, his eyes never leaving Mr. Green and the gun. "Do you always let her order you around?" he asked, jesting with his tone and expression. He wasn't sure why he suddenly wanted to talk with Green other than the opportunity to gain information could be lost.

"It's just in her nature." "Who is she to you? You're more than coworkers."

He fidgeted a bit, crossing his arms and letting the barrel of the gun rest against his left bicep. "She's my half-sister. So, I guess you can say that we take care of each other." It was only then that Gray began to recognize the similar features between Mr. Green and Amanda. They had the same shape of nose and mouth. 

"Is Aaron you're real name then?"

"Yep."

"And you're not afraid of me tracking you both down?"

"You haven't any reason to. Amanda's letting you go with practically no fight."

"Since you've gone to such efforts to infiltrate the firm, steal files and have her captured, why would she walk away?"

Aaron fidgeted again, looking toward the doorway as if seeking out an indication of her current location in the house. "She wants you back, but only if you're willing to come. That's why we didn't cart you off home to do this all back there."

Gray listened to the young man's words and observed his relaxed posture. Any other day he'd have downed Green by now and thoroughly taken pleasure in it. His inability to fulfill his wish did little to sway his emotions away from aggravation. 

"Where are the files? She said you had them."

"I've got them downstairs. I'll leave the flash drive where you can find it." 

Green had access to several sensitive systems back at the agency. Who knew what else he had tampered with or taken during his six-month employment? "Did you manage to break the encryption?" Gray asked tentatively, shifting his legs closer for stability as he sat on the edge of the bed. He was still considering taking a chance at rushing the younger man in hopes of knocking him down. 

Aaron was keen enough to recognize the signs of danger. He uncrossed his arms, pointing the Glock at Gray. With a determined expression, he answered, "We only wanted your file; and even after I got into it, I couldn't find anything helpful. There's nothing in that file beyond the last three years. Your head wound isn't even mentioned in there. Doesn't that seem strange to you?"

With the gun directly on him, Gray wasn't moving just yet. He let himself indulge in the conversation a bit longer. Green's point was thought-provoking. Had Gray even thought to ask to look in his own file? He knew a file existed because all agents had one and Black made mention of his file on occasion. Gray had made some rather critical notations in Mr. Green's file since taking over as his mentor.

"I assume from your expression that you haven't seen your file. It's pathetically bare, aside from the abundant praise for your contributions to the agency."

Did Gray detect a note of a wounded pride? Perhaps his wasn't the only file Green had been reading. Gray also wondered where they'd found out about his memory loss if it wasn't in his file.

"Black and Gold will have me track you down if they feel their identities have been exposed or their loved ones are at risk. You might do best to shoot me right now, Aaron." It was honest advice because that was very likely to be the situation once Gray made his report. They weren't going to believe that Green hacked the system, stole classified information and only read the one file. Gray assuredly didn't.

Green flinched, but held his tongue. The gun was still pointed at him, but Gray was starting to realize that the young man wouldn't shoot unless pressed. There was Amanda to consider. She appeared to want him alive. Therefore, Aaron's hands were figuratively tied.

Taking a chance, Gray stood on shaky legs and took a few unsteady steps away from the bed. It took a lot of control to keep standing, any loss of focus and he'd immediately lose is balance. "Amanda thought this would work, didn't she? You two slip me a few details to put me off my guard, and then my brain starts fabricating memories and feelings that didn't previously exist?" Gray feigned some sympathy for Green, which was difficult.

Green was still and silent, searching Gray's dark brown eyes for some form of understanding. "We aren't lying to you. As you said, we've gone through a lot. My sister was captured and tortured because of you; and yet, she still hopes that you'll remember her."

"No," Gray said, having only partially listened to what Green was saying. "She was captured because of you." He pointed his finger at the younger man, looking stern. "If it's your job to protect her, why didn't you come forward?" It hadn't been Gray's intention to press Green on his moral obligations to Amanda; yet somehow, it was an avenue he was eagerly pursuing. It was so much easier to cast the entire blame on the siblings rather than face the pile of shit he'd accumulated while dealing with this case.

Aaron was on the defensive, but managed to keep his cool. "I promised my sister I would do whatever it took to find out what they did to you in that place. I didn't have the security clearance to see your file. There was no choice but to steal it. If only you'd gone home when you were supposed to then the hand-off would have gone smoothly; and I could have blamed the alarm on a computer error or something. But noooo... you had to stay late. You had to be the company watch dog."

Aaron's ramblings were starting to make some sense to Gray. "She didn't ever have the files did she?" Gray speculated. "And you weren't trying to help me catch her and bumbling miserably at it. You were trying to thwart the chase and let her get away." 

Green's strong demeanor continued to crumble under the weight of his emotions. "Since I joined this firm, you've never shown any trust or pride in my abilities, Gray. It was far easier to act a fool and be reprimanded than to blow my cover entirely. That night was the longest of my life, knowing and not knowing what Mr. White was doing to her."

"Still you chose to do nothing," Mr. Gray further reproached. He was actually enjoying the torment he was inflicting, partly because he did have so many criticisms for the young man. Plus he'd always resented being ordered to mentor Green when he just wanted to do his own work and be left alone.

"You might as well stop," Aaron said, using his gun hand to gesture dramatically at Gray. "Amanda knows it was too dangerous for me to attempt a rescue. I did what I could. I played on the faults and assumptions of our colleagues to get her out of that place- to get her with you, which is where she wanted. A few well-timed suggestions and I got the ball rolling on this whole fiasco. Tell me you could have done better, Mr. Super-Spy."

"You make it sound so impressive," Gray said with an air of berating amusement. "The truth is you failed miserably. You should have known me well enough to realize none of this was going to work. You two should have fled while I was unconscious. Actually, not killing me is going to be the worst mistake you've ever made."

"We didn't fail. You do love her." Green's face flushed an angry pink; and his eyes betrayed the hurt he felt. "Could you really kill her if Black asked?"

Here he was, faced with the same question that Dr. Brown was so fond of asking. Steeling himself, Gray threw out exactly what his bosses would have expected to hear if they were present. Perhaps if he hadn't still been so stung by Amanda's betrayal, he would have answered differently. "I do my job to the best of my abilities and within the parameters of my orders. Nothing about how I feel will effect my actions." 




Call Me Gray Ch. 04



The young man's control dissolved and he began to yell at Gray and make more wild gestures. "That's bullshit! Those people stole you from us and you're just going to let them get away with it because you're up for the next promotion. Damn you, Collin. You always were an ambitious hard ass. Maybe I should just shoot you."

Green's hollering brought Amanda dashing up the stairs and into the master bedroom with her own gun, a petite Kahr K9 pistol, in one hand and a wooden picture frame in the other. Her features were flushed and tear-trails marked her cheeks, yet she managed to look angry on top of her previous upset.

"Aaron?" she implored her brother for an explanation.

"I'm sorry Amanda, but he's not going to let us go. He'll just come after us, one way or another."

"I don't think he will."

"He just said he would."

Gray could have tried to play it off. He could have forced himself to relax his muscles and posture and made some dismissive gesture to make him appear non-threatening. For hell's sake, he was in his boxers, completely unarmed and barely standing. Would it have been such a difficult performance? Maybe not, yet he didn't attempt it because he wasn't sure his heart could commit to further deception

"I'm sorry Amanda," he said, concentrating fully on her. "You are my assignment. If you escape, I'll have to follow."

She looked away from him, her lips pressing tightly together for a moment before she opened them again to draw in a deep breath. Then she took a step forward, drawing Gray's attention to what she held in her hands. Besides the handgun, she had one of the picture frames they'd purchased after moving into the house. She turned it around to reveal the picture of them standing on the beach barefoot in wedding attire.

"Do you know where this picture was taken?" she asked him.

With a shake of his head, Gray said, "It wasn't. Mr. Red manufactured it at the office on his computer."

"No he didn't," Green interjected. "I gave you those pictures."

Green had been the one to bring Gray the pictures, but he had also brought him the paperwork, which had to be fraudulent because it had the names Grayson and Amanda Butler listed throughout. "You want me to believe that is a real picture?" Gray asked, once again feeling a gleam of doubt that was difficult to suppress. Having Amanda back in front of him and looking so distressed, was having a weakening effect on his resolve. His heart was strained with uncertainty about what he felt for her.

Amanda held the picture a little closer to him. "We were married in Malibu almost five years ago. Those pictures Aaron brought you were ours, hon."

After searching her features for a few long moments, he focused on the photograph, noting the locations of the beach, the water and the colors in the sky in relation to the figures. It had to be a west coast scene, but that didn't prove the picture was real.

Gray kept his tone skeptical. "Now you're telling me I'm from California?"

"No," Amanda said, shaking her head. "You're from the east coast. When you went missing, Aaron focused his search out here, hoping to get lucky."

"We never really knew exactly where you were from," Aaron admitted. "You've always been a pretty private person."

"If what you're telling me is true, and I'm not saying that it is, why and how did I end up here with this agency?" he challenged.

Aaron took an enthusiastic step forward and spoke in a frustrated tone. "That's what we wanted to know! Hell, I managed to find you, but you didn't recognize me. So, I had to play dumb, fall back, follow you around and start collecting information for Amanda. She told me to get recruited by your firm, gain their trust and access to their files. I did all that and still didn't find the crucial information we needed."

"We don't know why you're with them," Amanda added, "or how you lost your memory."

Gray backed away, feeling crowded and overwhelmed. This put him against the bed and he chose to sit down again. A Malibu wedding, pictures of another life, it was too much to process and believe when his memory couldn't support a bit of it. Part of him wanted to dismiss all of it as lies. The other part was brimming with indecision and stirring up his emotions. Could his ego allow him to accept what they were saying? Wouldn't it be easier to just kill them, suppress the doubts and return to work at the only place he remembered and felt he belonged?

Time slowed to impossibly long moments of indecision. No matter what he thought or felt on either account, the choice would eventually lead to disaster. So, the real question was if he dared to search for the truth at the probable expense of his career and safety, or if he sacrificed the only woman he remembered loving for a corner office and the title and responsibilities of an agency boss. The decision would have been hands down easier a few months ago.

Green's cell phone inconveniently chimed at that moment. He withdrew the small device from his pocket and checked the id. "It's Mr. Black," he announced and looked pointedly at Amanda. "Am I answering this?"

"He'll think something's up if you don't," Gray softly reminded him.

Amanda nodded.

Aaron activated the phone and put it to his ear. "Green."

Here was another chance for Gray to make a move. He could yell out on an open line that he needed agents at the house right now to take down two dangerous operatives. Still Gray hesitated, and not because there were now two guns in play. They had gotten to him. His mind was filling with perplexing thoughts.

"Yes Sir," Green was saying into the phone as he wandered out of the room and into the hallway to pace and listen.

Amanda wasn't watching her brother. Her stunning greens were settled on the photograph. Slowly she stepped up to the bed, turned and seated herself beside Gray in a show of her trust. "I know you're angry," she said softly, "but I had to try. I hoped you would remember."

Her body was warm against his side. She smelled good and was gorgeous despite her sorrow. Gray had to resist the need to hold and kiss her. It wouldn't have been enough to erase the turbulence within him. His heart felt torn between two commitments for which he had profound affection.

"Were we happy?" he asked, reaching past her gun, which she conveniently held way too close to him and instead took the frame from her.

She did not appear reassured by the interest his question implied. She nodded, but shrugged immediately after. "We fought a lot... about everything, almost."

That was not the answer he expected. "Why?"

"I don't know. Before we got married it was a constant witty banter. It was so natural to tease you endlessly. Even in the thick of serious missions, we would be tossing around scathing remarks and criticisms."

"Sexual tension?" he offered with a hint of a smile. Gray was being drawn in by the tale, even if he couldn't let himself whole-heartedly believe her.

"Of course," she giggled and gave a half shrug. "Aaron practically pushed us into bed together. He said he couldn't take any more of our hateful joking and suggested we find a more physical way to express our growing attraction."

"You don't seem the type to do something just because someone tells you to," Gray observed. 

"You're right, of course; but his suggestion planted an idea in us, I think. We began to realize that we were using the teasing to cover up our true feelings."

"So we ended up married and things got worse?"

Her expression saddened again; and her shoulders sagged. "Yeah."

Gray kept his tone low and quizzical as he asked, "So why do you want me back?"

Something flickered in her eyes, perhaps a profound revelation, yet she chose not to share it with him. Again she shook her head. "I let myself enjoy this all too much," she admitted and looked up at the room. "We were caught up in this twisted fairytale, both of us pretending, and I didn't want it to end because it was so much better than we had in real life." Amanda shifted her gun to the left hand then reached into her front jeans pocket with the freed hand to withdraw the wedding ring. She looked at it for only a moment before pressing it into Gray's hand. "You have no idea how badly I wanted one of those, but wouldn't admit it to you back then."

"I never gave you a ring?" Gray asked with a furrowed brow.

"We spent more time on assignment than off," she explained. "A ring complicates being undercover and can also be unsafe if you have to work around machinery or are in a fist-fight. We made the logical decision to not get rings."

Now that she'd explained it, the argument made sense to him, but if she'd wanted one, surely he would have allowed it. Really Gray could only guess at what he might have done- that is if the stories she was telling him were true.

Aaron stepped back into the room. Gray craned his neck to get a view of him past Amanda. Green's posture and expression made it clear that he had something to tell them. He spoke to Amanda first. "Mr. Red is waiting for those pictures I took of you to finish your employee identification. Black wants me to get my ass to the office right away. So... are we going through with this, or what?" His gaze shifted between them, but settled on Gray this time. "We want to help you find out what happened, but if you don't want our help..."

Something Green said caught and consumed Gray's attention. He lifted the photo from his lap and focused on it. In the picture he looked the same, give-or-take a few inches of hair growth. The bride, however, looked younger and more carefree. She also wore mascara and eyeliner, which Amanda hadn't done since entering the hospital. Furthermore, since she'd already been a bit battered and bruised when Gray turned her over to Mr. White at the agency for interrogation the first night, this led Gray to the conclusion that Mr. Red could not have fabricated this picture or any other in the house- simply because he'd never possessed decent, workable photographs of Amanda.

Amanda leaned closer, pressing against his arm. "Gray?"

"This picture is real," he said with awed conviction. He wasn't sure if the emerging emotion in his middle was some form of joy or fear with this revelation.

"I told you so," Green said. "We wouldn't lie to you man; you're family."

Amanda rested her head on his shoulder, giving him time to process before pressing the issue. "What do you want us to do, hon?"

It took time for Gray to switch gears and put the agency back at the forefront of his mind. Surprisingly, he found himself thinking of the individual agents, his relationship with each and what this revelation could mean about them. Black was the closest thing Gray had to a mentor. Gold was the strong and silent partner. White was always cool and calm. Brown, convinced of his own brilliance, was by far Gray's least favorite person in the office. Gray's thoughts continued through the rest of the staff as well. Most of them were pleasant and professional, but he wondered who at the firm would know about his past and why he was with them.

"Take Mr. Red his pictures," he said decisively. "We're going to try this, but with great care."

"You got it," Green said, flashing a grin and heading for the door. He stopped suddenly in the hallway and backtracked. "Are you two going to be alright? You need anything?"

Amanda got up, moving to meet with him at the door. "I think we'll be fine. See you tomorrow at the office." She gave him a peck on the cheek and waited in the doorway until he was down the stairs and letting himself out the front. Then, turning back to look at Gray she asked tentatively, "We are fine, right?" She placed the Kahr K9 on top of the dresser and left it there as she strode gracefully back to the bed and Gray's side.

He continued to stare at the picture, no longer trying to visually break it down into shapes and shadows. "We look happy," he said after more consideration. "How long had we been working together?"

"You worked solo missions for my father for two years before we partnered up. We were together over a year when you asked me to marry you. The ceremony followed a few weeks after that. Things were crazy back then. The options were either wed quickly or have a prolonged engagement."

There were so many things Gray wanted to ask her, but he didn't know if there was much capacity left in his brain to take in more facts. Thankfully, the effects of the injection she'd given him were slowly wearing off.

Amanda reached down to empty his hands of the picture frame, which she set on the bedspread. This left Gray looking down at the ring in his palm. He gently set the ring on the frame's glass. 

"Sweetheart, you must feel terrible," she said, giving him a quick once over. "I'm sure you need something to help clear your head. We kept you out a long time. Come on," Amanda prodded him, taking his arm to assist him in standing. "You're going to have a hot soothing bath and anything you want to eat."

He let her help him up, though he'd managed it earlier without assistance. They walked together across the room, past the rocking chair and into the bathroom where Gray fought off apprehension again. This is where they'd been when he realized Amanda was faking the amnesia. He looked at Green's flowers in their plastic cup and back at Amanda as she seated herself on the side of the large tub to start the water running. Her dark brown ponytail hung long down her front as she concentrated on adjusting the taps to get just the right combination. Gray leaned back against the counter and traced her curves appreciatively with his eyes.

"Hey Mr. Gray... can you snap out of it long enough to slip out of those boxers and into this bath?"

"No kisses this time?" he asked exaggerating his disappointment.

Amanda stood and eased up against him. Her expression was playful and seductive. "Well, I suppose if that is what it takes to get you naked." Familiar scratching at his hips drew his gaze down to her hands that had infiltrated his boxers. She sure was a talented sneak.

Gray kissed her mouth, starting slow and building with passion. Her breath was sweet with mint, mixing with the lavender scent of her hair as he began to draw in any sensual stimuli he could from her form. The suppleness of her lips and breasts were accentuated by the strength of her tongue wrestling eagerly with his and her demanding hands and fingers digging into the meat of his butt cheeks. Gray was beyond content. He couldn't imagine anything more perfect than to be at her mercy the rest of his days.

"Hold that thought," Amanda whispered in his ear and quickly withdrew. The suddenly empty space in front of Gray filled with warmth from the running bath water heating the room. Amanda shut off the tap. The tub was just shy of being too full- thanks to Amanda's split attentions. Gray would have let it run over rather than break the connection with her. "In you go."

The boxers were removed and abandoned on the rug. Gray stepped into the water, finding it to be very hot at first, but not uncomfortably so. He eased down, enjoying the cloaking warmth around his submerged parts. "That feels so good," he groaned.

Amanda was pleased. "What do you want to eat? Certainly you need something fairly substantial," she said, picking at a spot of dried paint on his arm.

"Anything I want?"

"Of course."

"Then I want pineapple chicken and chow mein from Lee Ping's," Gray said without missing a beat. "They won't deliver out here though. We'll have to go out."

Amanda's features were broadcasting her apprehension to his request. She gently pressed her thumb against his bruised forehead. "Hon, you've had quite a weekend; are you sure you want to go out?"

"Yes," Gray stated firmly. "You said I could have whatever I wanted."

"I did," she relented. 

Amanda unhooked the bath poof hanging off the mounted soap dish, dunked it into the water and applied unscented body wash to the upright side. "Lean forward. I'll do your back."

Gray obeyed. He was more than capable of bathing himself, but the feel of the mesh ball scrubbing against his sensitive skin was well worth any momentary loss of independence. When she finished, he laid back in the water, letting it saturate his hair before sitting back up and reaching for his shampoo. He chose not to use the scented stuff like Amanda preferred. 

"Are you really ok with all this?" Amanda asked. She was kneeling beside the tub with her arms crossed and resting on the edge. Gray lathered and rinsed his hair as he considered the question. He wasn't really sure of his own feelings and motives. The only sure thing about any of this was that he was glad to be with her.

He wiped at the water running down his face. "You think I'm faking? Playing along until I find my opening?"

"I want things to be right with us, but you're far too clever; and I wouldn't blame you for wanting to get back at me for my deception and drugging you."

"Amanda... if you and Aaron are really who you say you are, there won't be anything to worry about from me. I'm very good at finding out the truth of things." Gray knew that he still sounded skeptical, but to give in completely would only show that he was truly compromised by the events of the last few months. "I'll spear-head this investigation within the agency. You and Aaron will help run diversion."

She nodded and smiled approvingly. "I'm sure I can be very distracting- especially so for Dr. Brown."

Gray didn't try to hide his smirk. "Saw right through him, did you?"

"More or less. I have no doubt he is a real doctor, but he's an exceptionally poor actor. I could tell he was attracted to me no matter how professional he tried to act."

Her insight made Gray chuckle. Oh, how he adored her keenness and wit. "Think you can handle seeing everyone at the office on Monday? I mean, I'm not planning to take you around, but people are likely to be curious."

"Aaron has told me quite a bit about the team." She reached out to smooth his wet tangles with her slender fingers. "I'm not all that intimidated."

"What about Mr. White?"

Her features paled. "I will cope," she said with forced determination. "I'm sure you both will keep him away from me as much as possible."

Of course Gray would guard her from White. Like Brown, Mr. White had shown an eerie attraction to Amanda because she proved a challenging subject to interrogate, being so strong and steel-minded. He gripped her hand, pulling it from his dripping hair to his lips for a soft kiss. "Everyone will think they have the advantage over you, but it will be you who has the advantage." He hoped she found his words comforting. There really was a vulnerable side to her; it hadn't all been an act. She was smiling, trying to look reassured for his sake. 

A few hours later, Gray and Amanda arrived back at the house from their lunch-date to Lee Ping's Fine Chinese Restaurant. Over steaming plates of pineapple chicken, chow mein and white rice, they'd talked about their life back in Los Angeles where Amanda's family-run agency was located. She'd told him minor details about some of their missions and a lot about her father, whose personality reminded Gray of Mr. Black. Also, he'd been surprised to hear as they rolled up the driveway to the house, that her step-mother, Aaron's mom, was an acting operative for their firm.

"You've met my stepmother, by-the-way," Amanda said as they climbed out of the car. She waited for Gray to come around then walked with him to the door.

"Where?"

"Pinewood. She took over the desk at admissions to keep an eye on me while I was there."

Gray unlocked the door, thinking back to the warm, motherly woman that he'd greeted each morning when arriving at the hospital. She wasn't that much older than he was, he figured. "Very well played," he said. "I never suspected her of being more than what she outwardly showed."




Call Me Gray Ch. 04



Amanda led the way in, kicking off her shoes by the door before entering the still mostly bare living room. Gray admired her body as she walked ahead and gracefully lowered herself to sit on the carpet. How could he hold on to doubt when there was so much longing? He'd thought himself a loner with no family; and had even been comfortable with that reality. The situation and his own feelings had changed so quickly. Gray was compromised. He knew it, but didn't know what to do about it.

Amanda gestured for him to come over. After stepping out of his own shoes, Gray joined her. She snuggled against him; and they sat in silence for what seemed a very long time, though Gray couldn't sit like that forever. He was a man of action and results. The day was wasting away with a very trying time ahead of them tomorrow. He needed a task, a distraction, something physical.

"We haven't properly made up for our disagreement the other day," Amanda sweetly offered, noting his restlessness.

Gray chuckled and shook his head. "What is it with you and make-up sex?"

"Well... we argued a lot back in the day," she reminded him, her enthusiasm deflating a bit.

"Oh, right." He didn't want to fight and he didn't want to have pretend make-up sex. "So, tell me about the pain factor?" he asked, trying to be delicate with the topic. "Do you really like it to hurt?"

She was noticeably embarrassed to be talking about her sexual behaviors that he thought were unusual. She refused to meet his gaze. "Sometimes I couldn't go with you on missions; and I'd miss you."

"How does rough sex help with that?"

"I've always been tight and a bit small inside. So, the pain would last a while. I know it sounds really sick or something, but...it helps me feel better."

Gray understood the point she was trying to make, but it only further solidified to him that she had spent way too much time in the marriage waiting for her husband to return and craving a real connection with him beyond the world of espionage. He wanted to tell her that he didn't think it was healthy for them to act that way, but couldn't deny that he had actually enjoyed the frantic pace of their passion at the hospital.

"Sex does not have to be a defense mechanism or a problem solver."

"Better than it being a farce," she muttered and started to pull away. Gray caught her allegation and grabbed for her, pulling her back to him before she could get far. "Don't lecture me," she warned, easily on the verge of hostility. With him still feeling a bit weak, it wouldn't take much for her to break away.

"Hey. I think we both need to cut the other some slack," Gray said sternly. "I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. I'm concerned about you. Hell, I'm concerned about myself. This whole situation has grown far more complicated and messy than I like."

She shrugged angrily, squirming in his embrace and shifting on his lap. "For a man, you sure like to talk a lot," she said nastily. 

Gray let her go, sighing with audible irritation as she headed for the staircase and stomped up to the top floor. He stared at the nearest light-rose-colored wall, thinking about the complexities of women and Amanda's profound ability to influence him. Admittedly, even though he was furious with her, there were undeniable urges to comfort, console and fuck her senseless. Now he had to decide if he wanted to suppress those desires on principle or just give in to her. It proved to be a short and pointless internal debate.

Damn! It seemed Amanda always got what she wanted.

Gray took a few moments to calm down before following to the top floor where he found her stretched out on her side atop of the new bed. He told her from the doorway, "I really don't want us to be the way we were back then. I don't like the arguing."

"Maybe this was a mistake," she replied instantly. "You were happy enough without me and Aaron interfering."

What could he say to that? Ignorance was bliss, in a way, but also lonely. He couldn't stand those circumstances now. Gray joined her at the bed, crawling up to snuggle against her back and bottom. He draped his arm over her middle. "You can't give up on me now, Amanda."

"I know. I know," she said in a drained tone. "You are just so infuriating."

"And handsome," he interjected, causing her to laugh.

"And sexy," she further listed, "for your age."

The last addition made Gray groan with offense. "You are so cruel, my love. We're going to need years of therapy."

"I know."

The talking ended, soon to be replaced with kisses and caresses, her coveted flurry that trailed the raging storm. They undressed each other in sections, removing clothes as their hands and mouths moved eagerly downward. Amanda reached his jeans zipper first, releasing his semi-erect penis from the confinement only to go after it fervently with her mouth. She was kneeling beside him, her ass poking up in the air to taunt at him, still packed neatly in her jeans.

Her lips, tongue and cheeks clenched his shaft firmly as she slid over him, bathing the head and length with her warm saliva. Gray shuddered, his muscles tightening then relaxing as he surrendered himself to her attentions. He reached for her buttocks, rubbing the sexy mounds through the jean material in a pace matching her strokes on his hardening erection. His other hand slipped between her thighs to press up against her sweet spot.

The talents he'd always assumed she possessed for oral pleasure were demonstrated on him with great acclaim. Amanda used her lips and light jaw pressure to knead the shaft to its tallest and thickest. Her tongue licked and slithered across the most sensitive areas of his penis, teasing him closer and closer to release and lapping up the pre-cum that leaked from the swollen head before adopting the standard bobbing motion. Very quickly, she was taking his member deep into her throat with the enthusiasm of a starving woman. Meanwhile she rocked on her knees, grinding her own pelvis against the length of his hand as Gray rubbed her.

Her usual sounds of rapture were trapped in her throat, escaping randomly to mangled result. Gray made his own moans and growls, warning her almost too late of his climax. She expertly swallowed the hot stream of his release before throwing back her head in a loud climatic moan. 

Collapsing at Gray's side, Amanda snuggled up against him, running her fingernails across his chest in unpredictable patterns. She nibbled on his shoulder, giggling with each of his satisfied sighs.

Gray went to work removing the remainder of her clothes and spreading kisses over the warm, newly revealed flesh. Amanda lifted her hips enough to help him slide the jeans and panties off then resettled, letting her knees fall back to open up for him to view and investigate. 

Gray discarded his own attire before rolling back to her. He gave her breasts attention with his mouth as his left hand cupped the mound between her legs. Knowing that she was probably still sensitive, he started with light pressure on her outer labia, working his hand in a gentle, circular motion. If her abundant lubrication was any indication, he didn't think it would take much to push her to orgasm again. So, he didn't dawdle on her luscious breasts too long before shifting down to position his head between her thighs.

Amanda growled loudly with the first touch of his tongue on her delicate folds. He licked the length of her slit, circled her clitoris a few times without directly touching it, feeling her thighs shudder on either side of his head. He slipped a finger into her tight opening, purposely aiming for the sensitive spot just inside, which he began to massage. His tongue teased, tickled and circled her clitoris as she began to lift up off the bed to meet him. She begged moments later in the throws of chaotic bliss, "Finish me, please!"

Gray inserted another finger, adding its strength to the other as he rigorously thrust them in and out of her at an angle that he believed would graze her g-spot. His tongue lapped at her bud which was an angry red color. Amanda gripped handfuls of the blankets as her head tossed slowly from side to side. Finally her whole body seized and she screamed loud and long, coming down in octaves until she ended in a low whimper of satisfaction. In all it was a powerful sound, chilling and extremely rewarding to Gray's self-esteem.

He moved with care, lowering his body onto hers for both closeness and warmth. His reawakened erection nestled against the welcoming, wet heat between her thighs, bumping her gently just in case she wasn't aware it was there. He crowned both hard nipples with a kiss before bringing his mouth down on hers for a long, lazy bit of lip-action, which she returned fervently.

"Amazing," she whispered drowsily.

"I think I wore you out," he mused, pushing strands of her hair away from her face.

"I feel that," she said, bucking just enough under his weight to emphasize where his erection touched her. "At your age, we really shouldn't waste a perfectly spry hard-on." 

He laughed, getting a feel for what it must have been like for them before the marriage when words were all they had to affect each other. He wasn't so wounded this time. "It will be slow and sweet," he warned her. "So, no napping." 

Amanda agreed and suggested a spooning position, which Gray wasn't adverse to in the least. His hands would have access to her breasts and clitoris with the added bonus of her butt pressed up against him. Gray shifted off of her so she could turn on her side then he drew up behind her, placing the head of his penis at her slick vaginal opening and thrusting forward into the petite space. As he promised, he went slow, enjoying the warmth and tightness of her womb with each gliding motion as he licked and nibbled at the flesh of her back and reached around to pinch and tease her pink areolas in turn.

"Someday soon, we're going to do this minus the fighting first," he pledged.

Amanda seemed to melt against him. Even in her tired state, she was actively flexing her pelvic muscles around his penis. "I'll hold you to that," she replied, her voice laden with lust. "Perhaps we should try something daring tomorrow at the office. We can fuck in a frenzy on top of your desk."

Gray was so stunned that he nearly lost the rhythm of his stroke. He would never do such a thing at the agency; yet, her suggestion stirred up erotic imagery in his mind so vivid that Gray was feeling both ashamed and perversely aroused in consecutive moments. The pace of his thrusts picked up then and Amanda moaned encouragingly. "I always thought you might be a closet deviant," she said, chuckling through her own increased breathing.

His hand left her breasts, skimming down her abs and stomach to caress between her thighs. Amanda raised her leg just enough to grant him easier access and not throw off his urgent plunges into her exquisite channel. He cupped her sex, applying pressure with his palm to the clitoral area while gripping her hip with the other hand for leverage. 

Gray was getting incredibly close to climaxing. "Come with me," he urged, amazed that words actually made it from his lips since he was so focused on the final, building instants before his own release. She began to buck hurriedly against him. Then almost instantly Amanda broke into a wave of violent shudders and her inner walls flexed erratically, forcing Gray over the edge. He buried his length deeply into her as a tremendous jolt went through him, energizing his senses and temporarily blacking out his vision. 

The sounds of the bed moving and their sighs of pleasure were quickly replaced with heavy panting. Amanda purred within his loosening embrace, "I think we can consider the bed broken in now."

"I think so too," he said, licking and nibbling as he worked his way up to her shoulder and across to the base of her neck. "Sometime soon we should break in the kitchen table."

"Oh yeah," she agreed with a giggle; "and the counter."

As was their custom, they retired to the bathroom to clean up before stretching out on the bed to relax for a bit. It was then that Gray made what he felt was a very important request in his personal undertaking to find the truth about his past. "Amanda," he said, aware by her drooping eyelids and slowed breathing that she wasn't far from that nap, "tell me my name- my real name." 

Her spectacular eyes reopened and focused on him. "I'll tell you, but you must understand that my family has worked really hard to protect your identity. My father kept you on the payroll of the front company and even arranged to have your taxes filed each year. As far as the world is concerned, you are living and working in Los Angeles."

"I thought we would be ghosts," he said, "expunged from the system to put us out of the reach of dangerous individuals."

"Oh no," she said, shaking her head with extra emphasis. "We protect ourselves, using aliases and codenames on every mission. Aaron broke that rule when he suggested my name to your Mr. Red to put on the paperwork. Then he did it again when he introduced himself to me as your coworker. It appears he has been away from my father's security protocols much too long."

"He is a bit of a screw up," Gray said honestly, "but he's talented."

Amanda nodded, looking sentimental as she thought of Aaron. "He's charismatic and very good at long term undercover assignments- better than I proved to be."

Gray wasn't going to turn his critiquing skills on her. If she hadn't slipped enough for him to realize she was pretending to have amnesia, who knew how long their roleplay would have persisted. He genuinely liked having everything out in the open. "I promise to be careful," he concluded.

Convinced of his sincerity, she responded without reservation. "Collin," she said reverently, "Collin Byrne."

Gray repeated the name several times in his mind, but only once orally. He was disappointed that the name didn't instantly spark some recognition or distinct rightness, in him. Gray shook his head, feeling his features deepen into a telling frown.

"Nothing?" Amanda asked tentatively, searching his expression.

"Maybe some day." 

Gray wasn't always a patient man, but how could he rush the process of remembering himself when he didn't fully understand how he came to be lost in the first place.



Call Me Gray



"So, what do you want me to do?"

"Go sit at her bedside. Be there to answer her questions and hold her hand. Make her believe."

The twists and turns of Brown's fairytale played through Gray's mind as he stepped back into the hall, turned and entered the hospital room. Larger than any other hospital room he'd ever seen, Mr. Gray eyed the pricy, comfortable furnishings with a bit of disdain. Somehow it all seemed like pretty adornments meant to hide the coffin hidden beneath- a way of cloaking the truth of how close the patient really was to death. He took a seat and closed his eyes to contemplate.

--------------

"Mr. Butler?"

A woman's voice woke him several hours later and he straightened up in the easy chair to take in her features in the low-light provided by the bedside lamp. It was Miss Rose, leaning close to him, dressed in a nurse's uniform.

"What?" Gray asked, sounding confused.

"I'm sorry to wake you, sir. I realize how late it is, but...your wife is awake." Miss Rose straightened, moving aside to clear his view of the bed where the bandages nearly hid the questioning eyes of the patient.

Gray slipped from the chair, moving to sit on the edge of the bed. He pushed away the lingering fog in his mind to begin putting his cards into play. "Hey," he said softly to her in a greeting meant to convey familiarity.

Wet, almost panicked eyes stared back at him; and slowly her lips parted to allow words to escape. "She...says you are my...husband," the woman, now known as Amanda Butler, said.

He nodded, trying to balance his expression between reassurance and fearful longing. "The doctor says you can't remember everything, but it's all right."

"My name is Amanda?"

"Yes."

"I was...in an accident?"

"Car crash," he affirmed.

Her gaze shifted around, taking in what she could of the room before settling back on his features. "You were hurt too," she said, lifting the cast on her right hand and arm just enough to show that she was indicating his healing eye and forehead.

"I'm all right," he said quickly, touching his bandage for just a moment before resting his hand on the blankets at her hip. "You are the one we're going to worry about."

A long silence followed as she studied his features and used her one good hand, the one with the I.V., to touch his chest, arms and face. He guessed she was searching for a hint of familiarity, a sensual memory, triggered by the feel of him. He made himself relax and accept this exploration. Finally, her hand fell back to the blankets. "You have beautifully deep eyes," she said.

"I think you've told me that before," he said, covering the lie with a tender smile.

Amanda didn't smile, but her eyes were less panicked. "She didn't tell me your name."

"Grayson," he said, "but you usually call me Gray."

"It's nice to meet you, Gray," Amanda said, ready now to offer him a weak smile. "Mind if I go back to sleep for a while?"

"No," he said, "I don't mind at all." He stood and helped straighten her blankets before joining Miss Rose in the doorway. The nurse-in-disguise led him to the adjoining room where Brown was lounging in an easy chair by the observation glass.

"Not too bad," Brown said to Gray. "You were sensitive without being too affectionate."

"Do you have anything important to tell me, or did you just want to critique the performance?" Gray asked evenly, feeling the return of his fatigue in that moment.

Brown moved on, accepting, but not internalizing Gray's anger. "You've got a hotel room reserved for the next couple of nights in Wellman. Mr. Green will meet you there with your new identification and credit cards. Try not to charge too much."

"I know this game far better than you do, Brown," Gray said. He looked through the glass at the settling form in the hospital bed. "Are you sure it worked?"

"You have doubts?" 

"I don't know. Maybe she is a better actress than I am an actor."

"Then don't act," Brown advised. "Use the story, but go on instinct, and be sincere."

"If you know so much, why didn't Black choose you for the husband, Brown?" Gray asked with a scoff.

"Because I'm the therapist and my job can't be faked."

Gray stared at him, wanting to call him a pompous ass, but not finding words eloquent enough to not sound bitter. Instead, he walked out and headed to the hotel.

--------------

"What's it like?" Amanda asked him several weeks later during his daily visit to the hospital. The doctor's were hoping to release her soon and Gray had been preparing her for that transition.

"The house?"

"Yes."

"It's big...and empty," Gray said factually as he finished dealing out the cards for another round of solitaire.

Amanda, now free from the majority of her bandages, chuckled and pushed some of her long, dark hair behind her ear. "What are we going to fill it with?"

"Stuff, I guess," he said, moving the first card. "You always had better taste than I did."

She hesitated, using the time to move some cards. "What was my favorite color?"

"You had more than one," Gray said. "Why? What color tickles your fancy now?"

With a shrug, she looked around the room then over at the vase of wild flowers he'd brought her earlier in the week. "I don't know...anything bright, I suppose- anything but white."

This comment made him look up from the cards. He studied her expression, seeing what might have been a hint of distress fleeting through her eyes before being replaced with the warmth of her emerging smile. "OK, if you don't want white, looks like we'll have some painting to do around the house then."

"Is there a lot of white?"

"Oh yeah," he said with a nod, "almost everywhere."

"You don't mind painting?"

He shook his head, still manipulating the cards on the small surface of the table. "I'll even let you pick the colors."

Gray left the hospital at his usual time, when Amanda went in for her therapy session with Brown, feeling more distracted than usual. Instead of returning to the hotel or checking in with the office, he drove into Lake Ridge to take another tour of the house. He was only a few steps inside the front hall of the ground level's open layout, when he realized that the house had even more white than he'd remembered. Of course, he wasn't certain if Amanda's dislike for the color had anything to do with her interrogation at the agency, or just her time spent at Pinewood- either way, he planned to keep his promise and do some painting.

When Gray returned to the hospital the next morning, a sense of purpose guided him through the hallways instead of a flat obligation to his job. Though he certainly wouldn't have recognized it right out, spending time with Amanda was getting easier. With the bandages off and her bruises fading, memories of their first encounter prodded at his thoughts. Yet, she clearly didn't seem the same woman in light of the circumstances.

"Gray, what's all this?" Amanda asked as he deposited a stack of paint and furnishings catalogs on the table beside her upon entering the room.

"Inspiration," he responded with a small shrug. "I'd like to have something done with the house before you arrive."

She smiled and reached for the top-most magazine. "You really don't have to worry about that. I know the place needs work. I'm going to be very helpful."

"You are going to need rest," Gray said, sitting on the edge of the bed and looking deeply into her gorgeous green eyes. When she couldn't quite avoid his stare, she chuckled and sat back against the pillows.

"How did I get so lucky to end up with a husband like you?" she asked tentatively.

He shrugged. "I did make you work for it," he said, feeling a bit unsure as he deviated from the script written up by Brown. Instead of him chasing her, he'd just implied the opposite, which was truthfully more like his personality than the fictional Grayson Butler, whom he'd been ordered to play.

"Oh, you did?" she asked, again chuckling. "Was there a lot of competition to win your love?"

"No, not really," he said, acting as if he was embarrassed to make the admission. "I'm a recovering workaholic. You are my constant intervention."

It was getting time to switch the subject as Gray knew he was moving too far into his own life experience. Even if Brown had told him to go with his instincts while interacting with Amanda, he still felt like he had to be able to distance himself from her at a moment's notice. He just couldn't let himself enjoy this mission more than was necessary to get it done. 

He looked away from her, letting his eyes drop to the magazine in her hands and tried to switch gears in his mind and get back into character.

"Hey, hon, don't look like that?" Amanda said, reaching out to touch his cheek and pull him back to reality. "You don't have to feel guilty for anything that has happened. I'm still here."

It took a lot for Gray to keep his composure. Her words were eerily touching, even though she didn't know the truth of things. "I put you in this situation," he said honestly, lacing the words with the tone of an anguished, regretful husband. "I can only imagine how frustrating this has all been. You must have a thousand questions and, yet, you only ask me a few at a time, if any."

Somehow, she seemed to expect this show of emotion, as if she'd been waiting for days for it to make an appearance. Placing the magazine back with the others, Amanda scooted across the top of the bed to sit beside him and take his hands in hers. Her eyes searched his features before she said, "There might be a lot I don't remember, Gray, but I know your beautiful eyes. They were familiar to me almost instantly."

He contemplated these words and once again doubted his appointment to this mission. "You are putting a lot of trust in me."

"Why shouldn't I?"

"Things haven't always been great between us," he said, again feeling the strain of adding too much truth to his words. 

"You can't dwell on a past I don't remember," Amanda said. "Why beat yourself up over something I'll probably never use against you."

"Dr. Brown is certain you'll remember someday."

She nodded, thinking deeply and choosing her words with care. "Then I think we should work on building happy memories. If that day should ever come and I do remember, these days in between will count for something." 

After a long silence, during which Gray mentally sorted through the mess he'd made of the situation, Amanda pulled over the magazines and started to go through them with him. They let the awkwardness of the past minutes fade as they shared opinions and ideas about colors and furniture styles. In fact, they got so involved in the project, that it was a couple of hours past his usual departure time before Gray even thought to look at his watch.

"Wow, I should be going," he said. "You need to rest and now I have some colors to work with."

Amanda's smile fell as he left the bed and began to collect the pages they'd torn from the catalogs. "I suppose if you really need the distraction," she said sadly.

Gray looked at her, noting the expression and tone. He realized that she didn't want him to leave. Though he'd never seen this reaction from her before when he'd left, it was obvious, from the intensity of her current look, that she'd felt similarly before now only managed to hide it. 

He dropped the magazines onto the bed and reached out to gently touch her face. Various comforting statements slipped through his mind, but he knew well enough not to use words in a moment like this. She needed affection, devotion, a sign of being wanted and desired. Gray lifted her chin, his dark eyes penetrating her electric green orbs as he leaned closer, taking his time to build the anticipation of their first kiss. Their warm lips met, pressing together in modest uncertainty. He felt Amanda shiver, or perhaps it was a fearful tremble. He reached out to gather her in an embrace, quickly finding it difficult from his standing and her reclined positions. So, he pulled back instead, meeting her gaze again.

"I don't want to hurt you," he whispered, hoping his tone and expression would seem truly conflicted.

Amanda was still trembling as her hand touched his chest, gliding over the top of his dress shirt. Her eyes moved from his, looking everywhere, but at him. Her torment was evident and sincere. The first two fingers of her hand slipped past the buttons to part the cloth and contact his flesh. Then, slowly, her eyes moved back to him. There was purpose and fear in them as she softly begged, "Please take me home, Gray. I want to be with you in our new house."

There was a twinge of something, a phantom of an emotion that squirmed in his chest, near his heart. Was it sympathy, longing or just recognition of the power he wielded over her?

Gray reached for the bedside phone, bringing it to his ear, but never taking his eyes off Amanda.

"Yes? Do you need something?" Miss Rose said sweetly on the other end of the open line.

"Get me Brown," Gray said in his best authoritative, yet not emotionally charged tone. He saw and felt Amanda tense, reacting to the change in his demeanor. He rested his free hand over the top of hers, lightly caressing it in a reassuring manner.

"Can I tell him what this is about?" asked Miss Rose tentatively.

"I'm taking Amanda home," he said.

With uncertainty, she replied, "I see." Miss Rose knew as well as he that this was not part of the plan. "I will page him."

He hung up the phone, taking his eyes off Amanda only long enough to get the handset safely back in its cradle. She was attempting to smile, but kept holding off the expression for reasons he couldn't ascertain.

"Did I do something wrong?" he asked gently, pulling up a chair to sit as close to her as his long legs would allow. "Isn't that what you wanted?"

"Yes. Yes," she assured him, nodding her head. She attempted to pull her hand back from under his shirt, but he caught her wrist and took possession of it with in the strong grip of his own hands. "What if he doesn't think...?" she began, but chose not to finish.

"I'm taking you home," he promised, "whether he likes it or not."

--------------

"What is the difference of a few days?" Gray asked Mr. Brown in the observation room just off of Amanda's room.

"I don't think she's ready," Brown replied. The doctor was already worked up into a huff and the conversation had barely started. "You can't expect to know what she needs. She is still basically a stranger to you."

"I think Amanda knows what she needs," he countered. He was forcing himself to stay calm and logical. Either Brown would follow suit or he'd eventually realize that his theatrics weren't swaying Gray's opinion in the least. "She wants out of this hospital."

"Of course she does, but you are missing my point. I don't think she's ready to deal with you full time or the outside world for that matter. She is fragile."

Gray shook his head, slow and deliberately. "No, she isn't," he said with confidence. "Have you forgotten what she truly is, Brown? My bruises have faded, but I remember."

Brown looked offended that Gray would make such an accusation. "I think she's attracted to you," he said, pushing up a bit on his toes as if the added height gave greater weight to his words. "She's confusing lust with what she thinks is a spark of marital recognition."

"So what if she is?" Gray shrugged. "We have to build this lie on something."

"Sex? I thought you weren't interested in that. Or, has she so easily drawn you in with her feminine wiles?"

If he'd had a gun in his possession right then, Gray easily might have used it on the pompous, portly psychologist. Luckily for Brown though, he was unarmed and quick to deflate in his anger. "Your arguments and attitude are highly unprofessional," he pointed out, turning away to move closer to the viewing window. In the room beyond, Amanda was watching television, but she didn't look to be noticing the images that danced across its screen.

"I'm not asking for your advice or permission," Gray said coldly. "Either you can be supportive of this move or risk tarnishing your relationship as her therapist."

"You expect me to condone this when I know it will come back to bite us in the asses; and that's not fair, Gray."

"Deal with it." He turned back from the glass, putting the intensity of his eyes to work in helping make his point. "I have a job to do; and most of it relies on me having her complete trust. I'm supposed to be her devoted husband. That means I do everything in my power to make her happy and comfortable."

"And what if the game changes?" Brown said, looking overly pleased with the speech he was about to deliver. "What if happiness and comfort doesn't work to get us what we need from her? Will you be able to shift gears, apply emotional pressure and possibly even make her hate you?"

"Yes." It was an automatic response. Gray knew his duty to the agency. If Mr. Black walked in the door right then and ordered him to kill Amanda, he would do it without hesitation. "I'm not new to this job. I've had to do a lot of questionable things to get where I am."

Brown looked unimpressed. "What happened to you not being skilled enough or willing to take on this task?" he asked. His joy at throwing Gray's own words back at him was evident in his stance and pudgy features.

"You can't wound me, Doctor. You are completely unthreatening to the likes of me. This is my assignment. I will complete it to the best of my ability for the agency. Then I will move on to the next. Nothing about her or you will affect me in any way."

Now Brown was shaking his head, an amused expression brightening his face. "You're only proving my suspicions. The more you insist on your infallibility, the less credible you become, Gray. That woman is getting under your skin."

"You're wrong."

"Then prove it. Walk in there and tell her she can't go home with you yet. Take back your promise." He shrugged. "You shouldn't have a bit of trouble doing that, right?" 

The desire to hurt Brown returned. Gray's jaw clenched as he tried to smother the anger that being mentally out maneuvered had ignited in him. He should have seen the reversal coming. Now he had a reputation to maintain, no matter what it did to his relationship with Amanda. "Fine," he tried to sound unaffected. "How hard do you want me to be on her? Shall I make her cry? Would that demonstrate my devotion to this cause, even if it proves damaging to our long-term goals?"

After a few moments of consideration, Brown shook his head. "No. Instead, I want you to leave...without an explanation. Let her sit all night, wondering what happened and why you didn't do what you promised."

"What is that going to prove?"

"That you're in the right mind to do this job."

Uncertainty plagued him. It was cruel to just abandon her. No caring husband would do such a thing. There had to be a balance between the roles he had to play. Suddenly he couldn't contain his anger any longer. "You are wasting my time and sabotaging this project!"

"I am making a point," the doctor said, not visibly intimidated by Gray's blowup. "If you cannot distance yourself, Gray, then you're not capable of handling this mission."

"This is not what she needs. That is the point I am trying to make," Gray insisted. "She needs me to be the rescuing husband. She needs strength and you want me to seemingly chicken out."

"Yes. That is exactly what I'm asking."

"Why?"

"You know why."

The anger was so stifling it was a miracle Gray reached the parking lot without losing the strained calm on his features or the pace of his calculated stroll. He pulled the door open on the Cherokee, climbed in and managed to not slam it shut. He focused his mind on getting back to the house. He wouldn't slow down and actually think about the heated conflict within his own being. He slipped the key into the ignition, the engine turning over with a symbolically angry roar and drove out of the lot. He ignored posted speed limits, his eyes not even acknowledging the speedometer, thankful his route would not bring him to any stop signs for several miles yet.




Call Me Gray



Damn that Brown. 

Damn him too...for actually caring.