Adult-FanFiction.org : Movies

Somewhere Between	By : AceMaxwell Category: G through L > Hellboy Views: 13422 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Hellboy, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 4
- 5
- 6
- John

I watch Hellboy's broad back as we hurry into HQ. He's ticked. Our date in the park was going fantastically, considering we were back to making out only moments after our argument, until my cell started ringing off the hook. It was Liz. Manning had arrived at base with an assignment and we were nowhere to be found.

Liz said she would try and cover for us, but I doubt she could cover the amount of time it took us to get from New York to New Jersey without transportation. It's a pretty good walk, especially if you're trying to stay undercover. We snuck a ride on the back of an 18-wheeler for a good portion of the trip, but I'm not sure how much time we saved. I foresee a vicious chewing out in our immediate future.

I trot so I catch up to HB. I can't really fall into step with him, considering I have to take two or three strides to his one, but I do my best. I'm really hoping that he's not going to do something, like yell at Manning for interrupting our date. He currently looks like he might.

"You're going to need to calm down, Red. Manning's tolerance level's been kind of low lately. If you do something to piss him off, he may actually kick us out."

He stops to look at me, practically whining, "But it was going so well."

And there's his child coming out again. I try to keep from smiling at the immaturity of it. He may be an adult, but there's that rare occasion that he just can't act like it. "We'll go on another date. I know you can get out, no matter how many locks they put on your door. I mean, it's already a vault, how much more could they add?"

HB fishes out a cigar and lights it, "That's why I go through the wall."

I have to grin at that. They have to fix that wall about once a month. I think the Bureau's expenses would go down if they'd quit locking him in.

"Maybe," I start, and take the cigar from him, "we should listen to Manning for a little while and let his jets cool." I have to stand on my toes to kiss him, but its well worth it. When I pull away, he's got an answer to my idea.

"Where's the fun in that?"

"I don't know… but at least his blood pressure would go down," I say against his mouth. He smirks and closes the gap between us, deepening the kiss. HB's stone hand curls around my low back, sending tremors up my spine. The stone is cold, especially against the exposed skin between my shirt and my jeans.

I must have shuddered or twitched or something, because he pulls his hand away and furrows his brow.

"Sorry," he mutters.

"Don't be."

We go back at it, despite the fact that we're on the BPRD grounds and Manning's probably organizing a hunt for us while we kiss. Somehow, it doesn't matter. How am I already addicted to this? It's like I can't get enough of his lips and the feel of his body pressed against mine. His hands leave trails of fire on my skin that consume me.

I know HB wants me to think over the whole 'mating' concept, but I'm not sure I can make it past tonight without him. It's an ache so deep it's more hunger than lust. It's a hunger that, if ignored, will either kill me or drive me mad. That seems a little dramatic, but that's what it feels like. If you've never gone longer than a day without food, then you wouldn't know this kind of hunger. Except, scratch food and replace it with Hellboy.

The Bureau has cameras all over the lawn to scope for potential intruders and it would be best if we weren't caught… doing things out here.

I manage to pull away a fraction of an inch to speak, "HB, we should go inside."

The big red lug grunts, completely ignoring the suggestion. His lips are back against mine and I have to fight with my urge to keep going before I can break it off again.

"We need to go inside," I pant. I would just pull out of his grasp, but the arm around my waist is holding me a foot or so off the ground. It makes things difficult, especially since HB's just switched tactics and is kissing my neck now and it feels… wonderful.

No, this has got to stop before we get caught.

HB slides his tongue across the hollow of my throat and my next warning comes out as more of a groan than words.

What makes us both stop cold is Liz's voice, "Red! John! Get your butts in here now before I char-grille them!"

Oh dear God, she saw us… Heat spreads across my face and down my neck. I'm probably crimson with embarrassment.

HB seems far less bothered by her intrusion. He sets me down and turns to her, "Come on Sparky, you know that threat's no good on me."

For that comment, Liz gives him the look that spells death, "Now HB! And I don't ever want to hear the words 'cover for us' again if it involves me running Manning around in circles while you two make-out on the lawn!"

I don't want to get in the middle of this, not to mention the fact that I left the Bureau the first DAY that I was suspended, so I hurry around to the door we used to get out. It's an emergency door I never knew existed. By the state of the halls and stairwell, I doubt anyone else knows about it either. Seems to defeat the purpose of it being an emergency exit.

I'm about halfway down the stairs when I hear Liz and HB enter above me. They're still arguing. Actually, it's more like Liz is arguing and Red's just nonchalantly rebuking her. He seems awfully relaxed. I'm hoping that's my effect on him.

I poke my head into the hallway first, I guess to ensure that Manning's not waiting there with his arms crossed. I can hear Liz saying that she left him with Abe to buy us some more time. "I said I was coming to get you, but that was almost thirty minutes ago."

"It's fine. I bet Abe's running him through some ridiculously detailed information about something. He probably hasn't even noticed how long he's been standing there," HB shrugs off the idea like we were talking about what we'd had for dinner, or something else of minimal importance.

A hand slides down my arm and I look back at Red. He takes his cigar from me with a slow, sweet smile that melts me to the core. A stupid giggle emanates from somewhere and all I can hope is that it wasn't from me.

Liz breezes past us, "Let's go love birds."

Manning glances up as we push open the doors to the briefing room. "You're late," he snaps. I can't stop my cringe. I can see our actions falling towards us like a hammer and the retribution might very well be more than the stern yelling we expected. If he starts with the small crime, he'll build up to the big fouls while his face steadily darkens. When he gets to the point that he looks like he might have a heart attack, he'll be making threats on our jobs.

"Yeah well, we were busy," HB brushes him off.

I can't help but give him a mortified look. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Abe making a small gesture. I'm not sure whether it's meant as a 'back off' or 'calm down', but when all Manning does is tell us to sit down, I realize he's trying to let me know that it's under control. The Director never found out that we were missing.

I hold back my sigh of relief and fall into the chair next to HB. Beneath the table, his hand sneaks over to rest on my leg. Despite myself, I smile at the gesture. I don't think Manning noticed, or he would have told me to 'wipe the grin off my face'.

Instead, he boots up a slideshow that depicting a map of Venice and starts the brief. I take notes, like always. I think I'm officially on a different level than the other agents around the table. The chaos of the past few days has pushed me from agent to freak. When we start discussing teams, I even get my own group assigned to me. It's kind of a big jump from being a follower. Then again, my group's mostly in place to keep an eye on me.

Over the course of about half an hour, Manning breaks down everything. There's been a rash of disappearances in Venice. People have always gone missing, usually contributed to suicide or accidental death, but the numbers have increased dramatically over the last year. There have also been sightings of an unusual creature in the water, but no photographs or hard evidence.

I glance over and notice HB nodding off. This is why he's usually not brought into staff meetings. He doesn't need much of a briefing, just information about what to shoot and where. I toe his leg to wake him up.

Manning is cranking towards his conclusion, "So, we need to find out what it is, how to kill it, and get it done. We've got another team biting at our heels for this one, so don't screw up. Questions?"

One of the guys up front raises his hand, "There's another team like us?"

It's an irrelevant question to the case and I catch Manning roll his eyes at it. Did that guy go through the FBI training program? Because that was definitely something they covered in basic.

"Not exactly like us, but yes. Are there any questions related to the mission?" Manning asks pointedly, giving the agent the evil eye while he talks. Nobody else speaks up, so the meeting breaks. He yells his final orders over the clamor of everyone scuffling for the door, "I want everyone prepped and ready to leave in 30."

I have to nudge Red again before I start packing up my notes. He doesn't move. Liz leans over and holds out a pen, "Don't wake him up, we can draw on him." She wiggles her eyebrows suggestively. I smile at the idea, but we both drop it when Manning comes around the table to us. I give Red a sharper kick to the leg that makes him sit bolt upright.

"I wasn't sleeping," he mutters in an extremely unconvincing slur.

Ignoring HB's behavior, Manning addresses Liz and me, "Ms. Sherman, Agent Myers, if you're both going to attend this hunt, I'd like you to be outfitted with a locator. We coordinate them by color, so Myers, you'll be green and Ms. Sherman will be white. Those will be available to you upon landing. Make sure you pick them up before you enter Venice."

Liz nods and I give him a standard 'yes sir'. When Manning's left us to our own devices, HB leans over my shoulder, "We'll be Christmas colors, 'Scout."

"A true observation, but silly," Abe says to him.

"You did all hear the 'be ready in thirty minutes' thing, right?" Liz asks from the door. I check my watch, we're now down to 27 minutes and I have to get my things and HB's. As his assigned agent, I do most of that. Though, you'd think a grown demon could pack his own socks and underwear.

"Right, let's go."

I start in HB's room. If I don't have enough time to pack my bag, I'll buy some things when I get there. Red gets his suitcase down for me and proceeds to file his horns. He knows he has to do it now, or he won't get a chance to. I won't let him take the filer with us; it makes the bag too damn heavy.

I run the list of necessities through my head, tossing things in the suitcase in the order I come to them. No one's really sure how long this case is going to take, so I'm thinking three days of clothes should do it, and only because HB's stuff tends to get torn up while he works.

I grab his jacket from the chair it's hanging on and start to ask him whether he wants to wear it or pack it when the door opens. Agent Henderson comes in, looking nervous and carrying a Baby Ruth. I've only worked with Henderson on a handful of cases, but I know he's a crack-shot sniper. If he's in here with candy, then somebody sent him in with bad news, or at least news that might upset HB. Red eyes the candy bar suspiciously, drawing the same conclusion I did. Something's going on.

Henderson clears his throat, fiddling with the packaging on the Baby Ruth, "I'm to take over as Mr. Hellboy's liaison and Director Manning has asked Agent Myers to report to his quarters."

"But this is my job." The whine comes out before I can stop it. It makes me sound like a little kid. I try and tone it down and regain my dignity, "I've got this covered." Part of me knows that the fact that the order came from Manning means no arguments, but he has no reason to take this from me. I haven't been shown as unfit for my work in any way, so he better have a damn good reason for this.

Henderson glances over his shoulder, for backup maybe, but doesn't get any. "Um… but Manning…"

"Manning can bite my big, red ass. John's the only one I want doing this job," HB practically growls.

My 'replacement' holds up the candy like it'll keep Hellboy at bay, stuttering on, "As… As far as I know, John's going to be under someone else's care."

"What? I do not need a babysitter!"

The other agent cringes away and I remember that he's just the messenger. He doesn't need us to tear his throat out over Manning's decision.

HB takes a breath to say something but I reach over and put a hand on him, "There's nothing he can do about what's been decided. I'll just go for now." I can tell Red doesn't approve by the deep frown cutting across his features.

"But 'Scout," he starts.

I interrupt, my words directed at Henderson, "You don't need to get too comfortable, because this isn't permanent." There's no need to drag this on, we do have a time limit to keep. I head for the door, but my unease about this whole situation rises up out of my anger. Henderson doesn't know the ropes and I know HB's not going to be very helpful.

"I've packed just about everything, but he still needs a couple pairs of pants," I say, trying to keep on top of all this. "And get your toothbrush, HB."

"'K," he mumbles. I'm not sure whether he's bummed that I'm being replaced, or irritated that I'm taking the 'mom' tone (as he calls it).

I hesitate at the threshold. It's not like I'm not going to see him again, but my position as his liaison is what brought us together. I'm not sure he would've noticed me if I was just another agent. Maybe he would have. It doesn't really matter now, but I still feel like the position's being stolen from me.

An arm circles my waist, startling me. I know who it is by the smell of strong tobacco… that, and there are only two people in the room behind me and I highly doubt the sniper would hug me.

"Go on 'Scout, I'll see you in a few."

"Yeah… okay," I say quietly.

His lips ghost across my neck and he whispers in my ear, "We can join the mile high club on the way to Italy, huh?"

I feel heat spread across my face. The idea sounds fantastic, but I'm not sure I'm bold enough to risk something like that. Maybe I should get bold.

Oh hell, Henderson is probably watching. If the Bureau doesn't know what's going on between HB and me yet, they sure as hell will now. I guess it couldn't stay a secret forever, especially if I start sleeping in his room at night.

Forget them! I am not going to sneak around like this is some kind of condemning fact. I wanted HB and now I've got him, so let them react how they're going to. I doubt it'll turn into Quantico all over again because I'll defend myself this time. If they want to fuck with a werewolf, then they're insane. Besides, HB would squish anybody who messed with me.

These agents have encountered some extremely bizarre stuff in their time at BPRD, so homosexuality shouldn't be that strange, right?

I twist in HB's hold and kiss him fully, enjoying his surprised grunt. He tightens his hold on me when I open my mouth to his, and I slide my arms up onto his shoulders. When we part, I have to glance back at Henderson, more out of morbid curiosity than anything. He's refolding the stuff in HB's suitcase. I should be pleased that he's not gaping at us, but instead, I feel a slight sting at the fact that he thinks my work needs redoing.

Red follows my gaze and I catch his blatant eye-roll. "Go pack your own stuff, 'Scout," he says, giving me a nudge out the door. "He's not doing it to piss you off."

"But your things were folded fine…"

"John."

I shut up at the 'no more arguments' tone he gives me, "Alright… I'm going."

I throw a glance over my shoulder as I go. HB's still leaning in the doorframe, presumably watching my ass as I walk. He gives me a sly grin when I catch him staring. I shake my head and turn the corner.

He is so shameless, but I think that's part of what I like about him. HB moves through the world without a fear or thought of consequence, while guys like me jump at every shadow and order. I know I could never be like him, but it doesn't mean I can't admire him for it.

My train of thought is broken when I enter the corridor with my room. My door is standing open. I reach for the gun at my hip, even though it's unlikely there's a threat. This place is more secure than Fort Knox. I can hear somebody rifling through my things, somebody who's wearing WAY too much cologne. So much so that I have to cover my nose with my sleeve before I can go inside.

I take a quick visual sweep of my room before I fix a glare on the agent standing at my dresser. He must be new, because I've never seen him before.

I should start off friendly, but I end up with, "Why are you in my room?"

He rolls right through that question with a smile and an extended hand, "You must be John."

I don't pull my hand away from my face. I think I might pass out if I did. He looks at me strangely, but doesn't seem too flustered by my behavior.

He drops his hand, "Well, I'm Agent Ellis."

"I've never met you before."

"I just transferred from Washington… are you alright?" he finally asks.

I don't want to be mean, or rude, but the man smells like someone broke a bottle of cologne over his head. Is there a cordial way to say that?

"Um… your cologne is a little… strong."

"Is it?" he takes a whiff of his lapel. I don't know how he could survive the assault on his senses without a migraine. I swear my eyes are starting to water and I'm six feet from him.

"I'm assuming you got briefed on all this?" I ask, shooing him away from my dresser. He shifts out of the way without too much non-verbal coaxing. He glances around the room, probably looking for something else to do, before I start handing him things to pack. I try to ignore the massive slap my nose takes when I pull my sleeve away.

"Yes, and I met Abe earlier today. This is all very fascinating. I mean, who knew that all this could go on without the public-"

I interrupt, not because I'm irritated or anything, but I am short on time, "Did you get briefed about me?"

He folds up the pair of jeans I handed him and tucks them in with the others. By the look of my extremely organized duffle bag, which is difficult to keep organized mind you, I'd say Ellis has a bit of an OCD streak.

Once he's got everything situated, he looks back at me, "You know, I don't really think they've told me much of anything about you. I know you were an agent, then something happened, but they were a little non-specific as to what. I think they gave me more detail about the Bureau itself."

Was an agent? That stings a little. What am I classified as now? "Right… well, add this to your 'weird shit' list. I got transferred here from Quantico about six months ago to be a liaison for Hellboy."

His eyebrows arch at that.

"Yes he's real, and if you haven't met him yet, you will. Point is, I went out on a mission and got torn up by a werewolf. Now I am one. I'm not like the others here. I've lived out in the world and I know how to take care of myself, no offense to you or anything."

"I got it. Why don't we think of me as more of a butler? If you need anything, you can let me know," he says, smiling.

I wasn't expecting an idea so reasonable. Is he just trying to put me at ease? I nod a little and retreat into my bathroom to grab my shaving stuff and comb. After rustling around a bit, I ease the door open to see what he's doing. Ellis is standing near my dresser with his hands clasped in front of him. Maybe he actually means to respect my request. That would be nice.

Do I do that to HB? I mean, HB's used to it, he's always had people taking care of him, but I don't want to be suffocating… But Manning fired me from that! I've got to have a talk with him. Red doesn't take well to new people. Then again, I haven't been the picture of civility towards Agent Ellis. Good role model, John…

Would it really be so bad to be like Abe and HB? It's not like I did anything but work before I got here and I don't really have any family to speak of since Uncle David died… I guess I could live here. All of my worldly possessions are at the Bureau, so what difference would it make?

TBC…
- 4
- 5
- 6
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Somewhere Between