Enigma (closed)

The radio played lazy music in the background, the tinny sound of a waltz filled the small interior of the apartment. A cup of tea released steam into the chilled air as its maker dozed in her padded armchair. Puzzles were scattered on her side table, some finished and some half done. Victoria had enjoyed puzzles since she was a little girl and she had always been very good at them. It didn't matter if they were crosswords, math problems, turn of phrase...she could solve them all quickly and efficiently. It was how she had found her current line of work, doing her best to help the war effort while trying to keep her life a secret.

A knock sounded at the door and Victoria sat up with a start. She rubbed at her eyes for a moment, reaching to her side table to pick up her wrist watch. She glanced at the time and let out a sigh. Almost 10. He was late. She pushed herself out of her chair, her heels tapping on the hardwood floor of the apartment. She unlocked the door and pulled it open, her brown eyes staring at the man that stood there with a glance that told him she was not pleased.

"You're late." She said in her soft voice, her hand settling on her hip, her smart black dress trailing around her silk stockings. "Give me a good reason why I should let you in."



Victoria Stirling: http://www.thefrisky.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/11/21/Victory-Rolls.jpg

James smirked as Victoria opened the door, hand on hip and justifiably annoyed. He wanted to just walk in, but that wasn't the game they played together - they always danced before enjoying dessert.

Yes, he was late. He'd had to stay at work longer than expected to investigate the back story of a potential spy. Sometimes it seemed as though the English countryside was rife with foreign agents, but perhaps that was just wartime paranoia speaking. On this occasion, the story appeared to be entirely legitimate.

The extra work had meant he'd missed his usual bus, and he'd then been further delayed when he decided to buy Victoria an apology gift.

But she didn't need to know all of that. He was here now, all grey eyes and parted dark brown hair, dressed in his suit, holding up a bottle of wine.

"Will a glass or two of a 1937 Cabernet Sauvignon suffice?"

Victoria glanced from James's face to the bottle that he was offering her. How on earth he kept finding things like that in the middle of the war was completely beyond her. He would appear with a box of chocolates, a bottle of wine, an extra ration of meat. He must have had some friends in some very high places.

"I suppose, although next time I might not be so forgiving." She said as she stepped aside and let him enter her flat, closing and locking the door behind him.

She moved past him without a word, so use to his late nights and excuses that she had put the roast on to warm. She knew all of his quirks and all of the things that made him unique. They had been dating for two years, and while some of the girls at work had teased her about the lack of a ring, Victoria was very content with their little arraignment. He had his home, she had hers, they were both gainfully employed, and they were happy.

"Light the candles, would you? They were talking about a blackout this evening. I don't want to be caught unaware like last time." She murmured as she placed the roast on the table and pulled out two wine glasses, placing one at each place.

James moved in to the warm house and out of the cool night air, crossing the room to place the bottle of wine on the table, then removed his jacket and rested it on the back of his chair.

"Chilly night tonight," he stated as he took a pair of candles that were stuck to saucers by their own wax and set about lighting them.

Once the flames were burning gently, he poured wine into each glass.

"How is work going?" he asked, his voice loud enough to carry through to the kitchen. "Making any breakthroughs?"

It was difficult at times to think of anything other than the war. Even so, he berated homdelf internally for asking such an impersonal question.

He pulled out both seats then moved to join Victoria, offering a helping hand where he could, though he usually felt pretty useless in the kitchen.

He moved in quickly to kiss her cheek, then added: "And how are you?"

"Rain tomorrow. You'll have to bundle up before you get back onto your bus in the morning." Victoria said as he lit the candles and poured the wine.

As if on cue, the lights cut out in the apartment and she glanced towards the darkened window with a long sigh. She could hardly remember a time when things were normal. This war had been going on for so long and so many had already given their lives for something so foolish.

Victoria walked back into the dining room where the candles created a dim glow, a serving bowl of roasted vegetables placed beside the roast as James pulled out both seats and finally kissed her cheek. She gave him a slight smile, glancing up at him as she placed the bread basket in his hands and made her way back into dining room and took her seat.

"I'm fine. And you know I can't talk about work." She commented as she pulled the napkin into her lap and waited for him to join her. "And how was your day? Did you solve all the problems of the realm?"

Lately they had tried to make small talk about their day to day lives. There was so much that they couldn't talk about though that it made it difficult to connect to one another. They would eat dinner, usually late, slip beneath the sheets to make love, and then go to bed only to wake up in the morning to repeat everything all over again.

"You know, sometimes I regret taking the job at Bletchley. If I were a bloody factory worker at least we would have something to talk about every night." She mentioned, looking across the candle lit table to him.

James joined Victoria at the table as their uncomfortable conversation continued.

He nodded silently when she mentioned Bletchley.

"And you'd be saving far fewer lives, I'm sure of it."

As much as he believed his own words, they sounded hollow.

The conversation was all too familiar. They spent so much time talking about nothing when they so desperately wanted to share what was actually happening in their lives. But to understand each other's feelings meant having an understanding of each other's experiences.

James reached his hand out and placed it over Victoria's hand as she clasped her wine glass, the flickering candlelight causing their shadows to dance upon the walls behind them.

Then a thought struck him. It wasn't the first time he'd had it and he had always banished it from his mind. It was a dangerous thought - potentially even treacherous - and it was so ridiculous that he'd never bothered paying attention.

But seeing Victoria's frustrated face among the dim light somehow made it linger for just a moment.

And a moment was long enough.

"What if we could share everything?" he asked quietly, gently squeezing her hand as he carefully chose his words. "I know we can't, but what if we could?"

Victoria glanced at James as he placed his hand over her own, his suggestion both scandalous and intriguing. She wanted to talk about her work and he above all people would understand. They were both in the business of secrets. Those secrets were a matter of life and death in this cruel war. The wrong information let loose into the world and people would pay a high price.

"That would be treason, James." She said softly, her fingers leaving her glass to gently intertwine with his own. "Besides, I know how much you hate my puzzles."

It was true. He constantly teased her about her cluttered piles of puzzles on her desk and side tables. She even had a small stash of them at his home, tucked in a side table drawer. They were her life. Some people knitted to clear their heads, some people read grand novels...Victoria solved puzzles.

"It's just a rough patch we're going through, Jim. We never have time to get away from the city. Let's face it...it's not the most cheerful time either." She murmured, squeezing his hand. "We'll get through it together though. Two years is too long to just throw away because we have nothing to talk about anymore."

Victoria was right, of course. The suggestion had been ludicrous and she had been quick to point out just how obvious that was. Even so, James yearned for the day when he could tell her all she wanted to know, and to hear all about her experiences at Bletchley Park.

"I know," he replied quietly, allowing himself the luxury of a small chuckle when she mentioned her puzzles - he really was quite terrible at them. "I just wish there was some way I could tell you everything without having to wait for this damn war to finally end."

James sighed, a mix of discomfort at their position and contentedness that they could share a meal together. Despite his frustrations, he was enjoying the feel of her warm, slender fingers entwined with his amidst the near darkness of the night.

He lifted his fork, taking a mouthful of roast, gently squeezing the embrace their hands shared.

"Then we shall have to create secrets of our own to share with one another," he said, taking a small sip of wine, before allowing a smirk to form across his lips. "Something scandalous."

They finally began eating and Victoria smiled to herself as he squeezed her fingers in his own. They would get through this together. It wouldn't be easy, but nothing for the past two years really had been. They had met in London one morning when she had visited the war offices. He was handsome in his uniform and she was applying for a secretaries position. Little did she know where her life would take her in such a short time.

She paused, her fork hovering above her plate as he suggested creating their own secrets. "And what kind of scandalous secrets are you wanting to start?" Victoria asked.

She had a serious nature about her most of the time. She was very stoic, but James always made her laugh. He was the only man that made her smile and not feel like a fool in doing so. When he kissed her, she could lose herself. He let her be herself and never tried to change her.

James felt the mood lift immediately as he dared to imagine between mouthfuls of food.

"Well, I suppose we can make whatever kind of secrets we please, so long as we keep them between us," he replied with a grin.

Then he paused, taking his glass of wine and swilling from it as he considered outlandish possibilities.

He swallowed, then leaned forward, the candle light showing that stupid grin he had when they played silly games like these.

"I hear Mr Gelding at number 22 is actually a retired submariner from the Great War and he hides a wireless in his compost to contact Berlin," he began, not caring how childish he must have seemed. "Or little old Mrs Wilson at number 14? Rumour has it she's an old friend of the Führer and has him round for tea every Tuesday!"

These were moments James especially enjoyed. Victoria brought out the joker in him for some reason, and that meant a bit more play and laughter in their lives when there was already so much to be serious about.

Victoria stared at him for a long moment before his silliness got the better of her and she actually smiled for him. Then she laughed, pressing her hand against her lips as he did his best to brighten her mood. He was good at making her laugh, even with the most absurd stories.

"You are a fool, James." She said as she brought her glass of wine to her lips and took a sip, listening to his stories.

She laughed again as he mentioned Mrs. Wilson hosting the Fuhrer for tea every Tuesday. "Oh, really? I heard that she hosted the milk man every Friday. Her eldest son looks the spitting image of him."

She leaned into the light of the candles, pressing her lips against his own from across the table. She truly did love him, even through all the frustration and sadness that the war had brought on. She would cling as tightly to him as she possibly could, never letting him go.

James loved to see Victoria's smile. It lit up the room and the melodic sound of her laughter was addictive to his ears. He even liked it when she called him a fool.

"Indeed I am," he quickly replied. "But I'm your fool, am I not?"

James laughed aloud when Victoria mentioned the milk man.

"Is that so?" he chortled. "Now that sounds much closer to the truth...unless you have your days mixed up and the Führer delivers her milk?"

James laughed again, and he was still smiling when she kissed him. He returned the affectionate act, closing his eyes for several moments to savour the warm, wet softness of her lips.

It was slow. It lingered. It was wonderful.

And even in the midst of a blackout and a potential air raid, it was a tender reminder of what it was he was fighting for.

Their kiss was lovely and needed. It always reminded her that all of the long nights, missed dates, and secrets were worth it. They were worth it for a man that absolutely adored her and wanted to spend his days with her.

When the kiss ended and they were left staring at one another through the dim light, she gave him another lazy grin. Her hand reached up and gently touched his cheek, their dinner cooling on the table just beneath them.

"And what about that Victoria Stirling? I hear that a strange man comes to her apartment a few nights a week and stays all night long. Sometimes she's gone for days at a time herself. Perhaps she's the German spy on the street." She murmured, her thumb stroking against his lips. "She certainly has a lot of secrets that she keeps."

James held her gaze as she caressed him, their faces a mere couple of inches apart.

"Ah yes," he responded with the same playful smirk he'd shown earlier. "Miss Stirling has been known to MI5 for a while now."

He raised a hand and cupped her cheek, enjoying the warmth of her face in his palm.

"Incomparably beautiful and full of secrets. Some say she she might be Mata Hari back from the dead, which is of course ridiculous."

His smirk grew as his free hand found hers, and squeezed it gently.

"But she's clearly a femme fatale. The War Office is very concerned for the helpless gentleman involved."

"Hmmmm...MI-5 is involved? Do you think Victoria should be worried about that? Perhaps there is something she can do to throw off suspicions." She murmured, grinning at him as he cupped her cheek.

She pressed her cheek further against his palm, letting out a little sigh at the contact. Then he took her free hand and squeezed it, another smile coming to her lips. James brought out the hopeless romantic side of her personality. Before she would have thought that she would have been weak willed if she showed a man any sort of interest. She saw with James that she could still be herself.

"Perhaps she could reach some agreement with them?" She asked with a sly and seductive look in her eyes. "Do you have any ideas, Jim?"

"MI5 is just the tip of the iceberg, I'm afraid," James continued nonchalantly as if her playful interactions were having no impact on him. "Rumour has it that even Churchill is concerned about the risk she presents."

He lifted the hand he held, taking a moment to admire her soft, smith skin before lifting it to his lips and gently kissing the back of it.

"I suppose if she were to co-operate with MI5, they might be lenient," he continued, slowly turning her hand around so he could kiss the inside of her wrist. "But I hear they have their best agent on the case. She would have to be mightily persuasive."

"Their best agent? I don't think he's any match for her." She murmured as he pressed an intimate kiss against the inside of her wrist. "I hear he's a sucker for slender blondes with dark brown eyes. He would be putty in her hands."

A soft chuckle left her lips as she gently pulled away, her hand slipping out of his grasp. She picked up her plate, taking it into the kitchen to place it in the sink. He might follow her. Sometimes he did and they would make mad passionate love on the floor of the cramped space. Sometimes he didn't and their little game of cat and mouse would continue.

"Coffee?" She called into the dining room, fixing him a cup before he even responded just the way he liked.

Victoria never missed a detail. It was her livelihood. Her career was staked on the fact that she could recall any number of minute details when asked. She knew James like a well worn book. His favorite cologne, how he took his coffee, how he parted his hair just so.

James chuckled at Victoria's playfulness once again, watching her as she rose from the table.

"Not all slender blondes with brown eyes fit the bill, according to his dossier," he quickly responded. "They have to be very clever, quick witted, and preferably living in Milton Keynes."

He let out a light laugh at his own words as he gathered his own plate and made his way towards the kitchen.

"Clearly, he has very specific tastes. He'd be completely helpless if he was ever to meet Victoria Stirling."

James let his plate join hers in the sink, then approached her from behind as she readied the coffee. He pressed himself gently into her and wrapped an arm around her waist and across her stomach. Breathing in her perfume, he smiled to himself, before lowering his voice to a whisper.

"Dinner was lovely, darling, but the coffee can wait," he gently hissed, dropping his head to kiss the side of her neck. "Wouldn't you agree?"

Victoria smiled to herself as James waxed poetic on how she was the only girl that could capture his attentions. It had been true. She was the only woman in his world and he doted on her like no other. Little gifts to let her know that he cared. Sweet words whispered against her ear in the mornings. James was certainly a hopeless romantic.

She ignored him as he placed his plate in the sink, her hand reaching for the sugar bowl. She dropped the sugar spoon to the counter with a clatter as he was suddenly pressing against her, his arm wrapping around her waist and splaying across her stomach. She let out a soft sigh as he breathed in deeply, taking in her perfume. Then, his voice came to her in a seductive whisper, the one that made her weak at the knees.

When his kiss was pressed against her neck, she knew she was done. He knew her weaknesses and she let a small moan escape her parted lips, turning slightly in his arms to stare at him with her dark brown eyes.

"Bastard." She whispered softly before her hands came to cup his cheeks, kissing him with a passion that had been building since dinner began.

James grinned when Victoria cursed at him. It was an affectionate slur, if such a thing could exist.

The word meant a number of things between them in a variety of different situations. Tonight, the meaning landed somewhere between "yes" and "I love you". James didn't care which interpretation was more accurate - Victoria was kissing him, and that was the only thing that meant anything right in that moment.

He returned the kiss just as hungrily as it had been given, savouring the taste of her lips as they shared breath, his hands quickly finding her waist and pulling her hard up against him.

His hunger was obvious, but if t hadn't been, the firmness pressing against her would have been a giveaway. James allowed himself to start to lose control as the heat and passion they shared melted away the tensions of the day - just as it always did.

James could take her breath away when he wanted to. She whimpered as he returned the kiss with a hungry heat, his hands quickly gripping her waist and pulling her hard against his body. He was hard, pressing against her belly in impatience. The corners of her lips tilted upwards as she felt that. Not only could he stoke the fire within her, but she could turn him hard as stone in a matter of moments.

"Are we going to make it to bed tonight?" She asked him in a breathless voice when the kiss ended, her fingers already pulling at his tie before she pushed his suit coat off his shoulders.

She didn't even wait to hear his answer before she was kissing him again. God, she could become drunk off his kisses if she weren't careful. He could bewitch her and make her do things she would have never considered before.

The room was almost pitch black. Save for the faint and distant flickering of the candles on the dinner table, there was no light entering the room.

Their eyes had adjusted to a certain extent, but the darkness still meant their senses of touch, taste, smell, and hearing were working on overdrive.

Victoria asked her question as she tugged at his tie and jacket, which quickly met the kitchen floor.

He pulled at her dress, tugging it upwards and exposing more and more of her silk stockings, his hunger for her no longer controllable.

"Here first," he replied breathlessly. "Bedroom later."

James didn't know if he could fulfill such a promise but he didn't care about anything else. All he wanted was to make Victoria moan.

And he hoped like hell that the endurance training he'd undergone as a fresh recruit would prove to have been worthwhile.

Victoria let out a gasp as she felt her skirt being pulled up her legs, the cool air of the apartment licking at her. Soon, her dress was bunched around her hips, his warm hands caressing over her silk panties. It was certainly scandalous to be standing there in her kitchen, darkness surrounding them both, each in such a hurry to undress the other.

Her fingers never stopped moving as they settled at his waist, pulling at the leather belt he wore. The buckle jingled beneath her fingers as she worked it loose and finally managed to jerk it open. Then came the button and zipper of his fly. She had never been more frustrated in her life. It seemed to happen every time they were in this situation. It took forever to get to what she really wanted while he only had to lift her skirt. It seemed dreadfully unfair.

"Twice?" Victoria asked him with a little smirk on her lips as they both panted. "What am I ever going to do with you, Jim?"

James grinned.

He wasn't sure if Victoria could make out his reaction to her fumbling fingers or not, but when the pair of them got into the sort of hurried undressing situation they were in now, their digits often briefly failed them.

But his smile was gone almost as quickly as it had arrived. He was far too physically focused to entertain silly jokes.

Instead, he kissed her hard until she asked her question. Then he abruptly stopped, and, leaning in, he slowly kissed her neck again from the base to her earlobe. When he replied, his voice was barely a whisper.

"Whatever you please."

James crouched down and slid his hands up the outside lengths of her stockinged legs until he reached her waist once again. Then he lifted her up onto the kitchen bench behind them and stepped between her thighs, and kissed her lipsticked lips once more.

James drew a soft moan from her lips as his lips found their way to her throat, kissing her skin until he ended at her earlobe. She absolutely melted when he did this and he knew that. She was unprepared when he suddenly crouched down, his hands slipping up her legs until her gripped her waist and hoisted her up onto the counter. The moment he stepped between her thighs, she knew that she was in for something they had never experienced before.

She whimpered as his lips crashed down on her own again, kissing her until her toes curled tightly. Her fingers worked into the band of his pants, pushing them down over his hips. She wanted him. She needed him. It was like needing air. She needed this man in her life to survive. If he was gone, she didn't know what she would do with herself.

"Take off my panties, Jim. I need you." She whispered as her fingers finally curled into the band of his boxers, freeing his hard cock from its prison.