Mail Order Treason (closed for raiguy)

Taylor sighed as she closed the door to the basement behind her and trudged up the stairs to her room. Now it made sense; his reluctance to talk to her, be personable, the sudden changes in his behavior for no reason...well now she had the reason.

"I guess it could be worse..." she said aloud as she changed out of her clothes to go to bed. As she stepped out of her pants and tossed them in the basket in the corner she considered something else, at least he wasn't using her body. She slid under the covers and into the cool sheets, it took a few minutes for her to get comfortable, she rearranged her pillows a few times before finally settling in.

She briefly wondered if there was another way out. Brett would have to go back to work soon, it was possible she could figure out a way to get the authorities involved and get him locked up before he could kill her.

Her mind was spinning. Considering her death had shaken her. She woke up in the middle of the night panting and sweating with tears rolling down her cheeks. She got a drink of water in the bathroom next door but got sick and couldn't keep it down. She washed her face and brushed her teeth and went back to bed trying to calm down.

Brett heard Taylor up and about, as well as her retching into the toilet. He wasn't a monster and truly felt for her to be in this, but then he remembered what it would cost if he failed. He shook his head before moving back to the data, before finally closing everything down to head to bed. He quickly settled down to sleep, before closing his eyes and letting the nightmares take him.

He woke from a restless sleep, before turning to check the time. He sighed before pulling himself out of bed and quickly getting ready for work. He left a note for Taylor, telling her that he was heading into work, and to call his cell if she needed anything.

He headed out to his car, before pulling out of the garage and clicking the garage closed. He locked the house down completely, before disabling the phones, knowing that the only number the phones would call would be his cell number. He wasn't going to take any chances until she finally accepted they were working together from here on out.

Taylor woke late the next morning, she yawned and stretched. Her room was hot so she flung the covers off herself and laid in bed watching the ceiling fan turn lazily above her in nothing but the knit tank and her black bikini underwear. She listened for a little while and didn't hear any movement in the house.

Brett hadn't said anything about going to work or not today but she wouldn't be surprised if he left her all alone. It wasn't like he gave a shit about her state of mind. She sighed and got up, slipped on her yoga pants and padded down the stairs to the kitchen. She found his note and tossed it aside. Yup, just as she figured. He was working.

It took a minute but she figured out how to use the state of the art espresso machine and made herself some. She saw the sun shining through the windows in the den and decided that sitting out on the patio and drinking her coffee sounded great. Maybe she could find a good book to read too? She yawned again and stretched to her full height before rising to her tip toes to stretch. She finished flavoring her coffee with the frothed milk and some caramel syrup setting nearby, it was just like that trendy coffee shop she used to go to when she checked her email. Only it didn't cost nearly as much she was sure.

She grabbed the light blue mug and headed for the large french doors, she pulled the handle...nothing. She turned the lock and tried again, still nothing.

"What the hell?" she said with a scowl.

She walked to the backdoor on the opposite side of the kitchen, that door too refused to budge.

"Okay, seriously," she said sarcastically, she was starting to get extremely annoyed.

The front door wouldn't move, she set her coffee down on the small sofa table in the entry and tried again, still nothing. She growled low in her chest in frustration.

She put her shoulder into it and shoved, nothing.

"Fuck. Seriously Brett?! God damn it. Fucking prisoner in this house," she grumbled and got pissy at him even though he wasn't around.

She looked at the door with her hands on her hips but decided not to waste her time.

"Oh fuck it," she said defeatedly before dropping her hands dramatically.

She wandered back to the den with her coffee in hand and curled her legs under her in an oversized dark brown leather chair. She sipped and watched out the window for awhile. She was going to be really bored if she couldn't leave the house.

An orange tabby showed up and sunned himself on the patio for awhile before getting up and flouncing off after a butterfly. Taylor giggled and smiled. He was so cute, must be a stray or a neighbors cat. Maybe Brett would let her get a dog so she wouldn't feel so alone, since he obviously wasn't interested in companionship.

She passed the day reading parts of several different books she found on the bookshelf in the den. She had always loved reading. The subjects were varied but they were nothing she particularly enjoyed. By 4:30 she was ready to go out of her mind. She decided to take a shower and change before he got home from work.

She tossed her clothes in the basket in the corner and walked stark naked to the bathroom and started the shower, leaving the door cracked so the steam could escape. It didn't take her very long and before she knew it she was in fresh clothes, combing her wet hair out with a large comb. She even made the bed because she felt like she had nothing else to do.

Brett steadily worked through the day. He got a few surprised glances from the wedding band he now wore, but otherwise he just shrugged it off. He lost himself in the code he needed to write, flying through it with precision and ease. It amazed everyone around him how fast he could write code, but it was part of the reason he had been kept alive, even after blowing a mission. His technological knowledge bordered on the best in the world.

Brett sighed as he pushed back and shut his station down. He nodded to his boss, before grabbing his suit jacket and heading to the GT-R. He wanted to get home, knew he needed to talk to Taylor. He also needed to meditate. Something was knocking him off his center, moreso than ever before. He wasn't used to it either.

He sighed as he popped the clutch, tearing out of the parking lot, as he drove across town. He knew that a gift would just look like he was being an asshole, and he didn't want that. He sighed, before putting his foot through the accelerator, smiling as the car suddenly jumped. It took almost no time for him to pull up to the garage, open it, and park his car.

He stepped out, closed the garage, and stepped through the inner door. After putting his coat up and rolling his sleeves up, he tossed his keys in the dish before moving to where he heard noise. "Taylor," he softly called out, waiting at the end of the hall.

Taylor heard the garage door and knew he was home. Good. Finally! Maybe she could go for a walk or something. She hated being restricted like this.

"In here," she called out a response.

She was sitting cross legged in a pair of perfectly fitted dark washed skinny jeans. She fell in love as soon as she had tried them on, she thought her ass looked phenomenal, and hoped Brett would agree. But now it seemed she would be ignored so whatever.

She was sitting in the middle of her freshly made bed, the white sleeveless blouse accentuating her hair and her figure. It was sheer with a white tank under it. She was slowly scrunching up her partially dried hair so it would finish drying in a natural looking wave. She could hear his footsteps up the stairs and down the hall.

Brett walked into Taylor's room, leaning on the door frame. He looked at her, and smiled slightly. "You look beautiful," he said honestly, before running his fingers through his hair. "I didn't want to lock you into the house, but I need to know you won't be going to the police. Once I know that won't happen, it won't happen. As it stands, you have access to the screened in porch off my room, as well as the solarium and hot tub that is in it," he said, before stepping back.

He turned as he left, saying softly, "You do look beautiful, and I do mean that." He headed to his room, before stripping into shorts and nothing else. He moved to the screened in porch, before sitting down, starting to meditate, trying to find his center again. Everything slowly faded as he started meditating, relaxing completely, trying to find that calm that he was looking for.

Taylor really didn't know what to say and he didn't give her much of a chance to respond before he walked away. She should have thanked him for the compliment but she was still angry with him. How dare he? Just ugh...she wanted to hate him but it was difficult to be angry when he was nice to her.

He did lock her in the house all day. What kind of person does that, or any of the other things he'd already done to her!?

She stalked down the hall to his room quietly. She wondered what he did when he was alone. She thought about confronting him but as she crept quietly through the Spartan room she saw him through the big glass doors with his back to her. He was relaxing, meditating. But that isn't what she noticed when she watched him. She saw the scars all over his back, criss crossing into his lightly tanned flesh. There were a couple of thick lines she knew had to have been very deep. Most of them were faded thin stripes. She wondered how he'd gotten them; foster care? The CIA?

She backed out of the room slowly, her eyebrows furrowed together. Her husband wasn't telling her everything, he might never tell her everything. And she wasn't sure she wanted to know. She leaned against the hall wall and blew out a shallow breath she didn't realize she'd been holding.

She was still mad at him, but deep inside her heart she sympathized with someone who felt backed into a corner with no way out. Taylor had been there herself just a few days ago.

Brett took a few deep breaths, trying to find a rhythm to focus on while he calmed himself. He couldn't put a finger on what it was that was throwing him this far off of his center, but it was getting to him. He couldn't sit still, couldn't stay without a restless mind, and it was starting to annoy him. He sighed as he continued, before going through his meditation routine.

After the first few minutes, he knew he wasn't going to find calm. He sighed, shaking his head, before standing. He grimaced at the sweat that was pouring from his body. It was going to be another hot night out on the deck. Then again, he hadn't turned the fans on for a reason. Something about sweating helped him meditate.

As he stood, he went to the bathroom, happy he put a door that lead to it from the deck. He grabbed a towel, wiping the sweat from his skin. He looked in the mirror, remembering the reason why he got his torso and arms covered in tattoos. They weren't colored in, and they still allowed the scars to show. Scars he had received due to not completing a mission correctly, or failing. The thicker scars were from being caught out, or from his abusive foster parents, before he had sought emancipation.

He got the tattoos as a way to guard the wounds, but also as a way to express himself. The large phoenix on his back, with the wings wrapping around his chest helped to show how he was trying to move past the old life he lead. His arms were criss-crossed with tattoos, all having meaning, whether the music notes of a song, or a picture, or a simple quote. His chest was his proudest achievement. It did well to hide the multiple bullet wounds, stab marks, and other scars he had received in the line of work. The giant tattoo of Anubis, with wings extended across his chest, stood proud, from his navel to his throat. It was the one tattoo filled in with vivid color and detail, and also the one tattoo he tried to hide, as it was his most significant. He viewed the tattoo as the constant reminder that he was trying to atone for the life he lived, the live the CIA created and made for him.

After toweling off, Brett stripped, before stepping into the shower and washing quickly. He was never one for sun, but he knew that working in the yard had filled out the areas of skin that were visible under the tattoos. He dried off after the shower, before pulling on shorts, not bothering with boxer briefs or a t-shirt as he made his way to the kitchen, trying to think of what would be good for dinner, before deciding on pork steaks and his special rub and sauce, with a light salad and garlic bread.

Taylor went back to her room and shut the door softly when she heard him start the shower. She didn't want Brett to know she had been watching him, of course there was always the possibility that he had cameras all over the house. She wondered if he watched her while he was at work.

She decided to ask him, actually she had a lot of questions for him. He was definitely hiding a lot of things from her, and maybe even from himself. She'd never seen someone with so many tattoos before. It definitely looked like he was trying to hide the scars, even though she couldn't blame him for that. She would have wanted to hide them too.

Taylor waited until she heard him head downstairs before she followed a few minutes later. She lingered in the wide doorway of the kitchen for a moment watching him again. He was so incredibly attractive, she felt drawn to him like a moth to a flame.

He won't hesitate to burn you, she reminded herself.

His back was to her as she came around the corner and got a cold water bottle out of the fridge and then sat down at the large island. She looked down at the dark granite and then back up at him.

"Am I allowed to ask you questions?" she asked matter of factly.

She took a sip of her water and waited.

Brett turned, wiping the spices from his hands and chest as he looked at Taylor. He thought about her question before nodding. "You can ask me questions. Just think about what you're asking, and what you want to know. Also, some things I will not answer," he said, his eyes telling her that there were some things that he would not discuss with her at that time.

After fixing the meat, he carried it out to the grill, before firing it up and putting the meat on. He closed the grill after adjusting the flame, before heading back into the house to fix the salad and bread. Once the bread was in the oven and lightly baking, he put the salad in the fridge to let it stay cool, before pulling out a beer for himself, and going to check on the meat, before flipping it and then coming back to sit next to Taylor.

Taylor thought about all the things she wanted to ask him or talk to him about, some things would have to wait but she needed answers to the big ones right now. She watched him put dinner on the grill and come back inside and was surprised he chose to sit next to her. Taylor considered him carefully over her shoulder as he took a sip out of his beer bottle. It was plain as day to her now, she could feel his coldness, something she had not noticed the first time they had met.

"Never mind," she got up and walked away from him, she didn't even know where to start.

Taylor headed straight for his bedroom and then into the adjacent solarium. It was hot but she didn't care. She stood there looking out over the yard and into the property beyond. She was still struggling with her frustration with him, her anger, the disappointment, and of course the sadness.

How could I have been so stupid, she thought.

Brett just followed Taylor's exit with his eyes. He wasn't sure what she wanted to ask, or why she didn't but he figured that she would ask when she was ready, or she wouldn't ask at all. Instead, he went back out to the grill, flipping the meat and starting to add a sauce to it. He did this a few more time, before turning the grill off and pulling the meat off of the grill. He fixed two plates, with silverware as well, and then two glasses of water, before setting them on a tray and walking towards the back of the house. He figured that she had headed towards the solarium.

After walking into the solarium, he looked at her, before setting the food down on the table inside. "If you'd like, we can eat in here, or wherever you want. Or if you'd rather eat alone, I'll go back to the kitchen," he said, not knowing why he was giving her a choice, but deciding that he could at least try to be a decent host, even if he was using her for less than legal means.

Taylor heard him come in but she didn't turn around to face him. She wasn't sure what she wanted right now.

"Do whatever you want, Brett," exasperation permeated her tone.

She squeezed her eyes shut for a few seconds before opening them again. The heat was getting to her, so she turned and walked past him without making eye contact.

When she managed to get outside and onto the patio she took several deep breaths trying to collect her thoughts. She felt the frustration and her emotions rising to the surface. How could he act like all of this was okay?

Anxiety squeezed her chest tight, making her more upset and coming on strong. She'd had panic attacks since she was a little girl, the women at the orphanage told her that she had abandonment issues. She started trying to slow her breathing down but felt herself spiraling into manic mode trying to cope. She had to burn off the nervous energy somehow so she started pacing in a big circle. She didn't give a shit if Brett thought she was crazy. He couldn't throw her into a situation like this and just expect her to adjust with no issues.

Brett watched her walk away, before sitting down and starting to eat food. He knew that something had to be bothering her, but quite frankly, unless she came to him about it, it wasn't his issue to try to solve. All he needed was for her to do A so that they could accomplish B. Aside from that, he wasn't going to step into her personal drama and deal with it.

He ate in silence, not knowing if he would be joined, but not letting it affect his mood. Either Taylor would eat with him, or she would eat on her own. Beyond that, he had no real control over what she did while at home. He took a drink of water as he decided what the course of action needed to be at the social. It would probably do well to at least try to fit in with the higher ups. He knew he would see his old bosses, his old proteges, and probably a smattering of new, young agents. He sighed at that thought, before going back to eating.

Taylor couldn't get her head straight, she was starting to shake so she slipped out the gate and started off down the street. She just needed to get away from the house for a little bit. She didn't care if Brett got angry with her, he couldn't kill her because he needed her.

It didn't take more than a few minutes away from the deep oppressive feelings of being around him before her mind started to settle. She'd have to play his game, be useful to him, the more useful she was the harder it would be for him to replace her. And then she might be able to figure out a way out of this before she did something she couldn't take back.

She actually started enjoying the walk, the air was fresh, warm on her skin, and the cherry blossoms were fragrant. They lined the street she walked. She turned one corner and then another. A man cutting his lawn waved at her, she smiled and nodded in recognition. No one had ever paid attention to her like that before. Most people saw her as the dregs of society but not here.

She could still have her fresh start, she would just have to adjust her thinking. She could deal with this, live with this. She would never love Brett after what he's done to her but she could tolerate the scheme long enough to maybe get him caught and then she could be free.

Taylor breathed a deep sigh and rounded the cul de sac back towards the house. But she soon found herself unsure of which direction she was going. She had been so angry she hadn't bothered to look at the street signs as she walked and now she wasn't sure where she needed to turn.

"Shit.." she muttered softly. Now he would really be angry with her, she was sure of that.

Brett stood up, clearing the table, before moving through the house. He couldn't hear Taylor, which meant that either she tried to run away, or she was downstairs. He quickly checked downstairs, grabbing his pistol, before going to the garage to grab his truck after finding the basement empty.

He pulled out, quickly moving through the neighborhood. He pulled up to his neighbor bill, before smiling. "Hey, you seen a pretty redhead walking? My wife is new here, and she might not know her way around the neighborhood," he said, before nodding his thanks when he was pointed in the right direction.

He quickly found Taylor walking around, before parking the truck and stepping out. He walked up to her, before quietly saying, "Get in the truck now, or it's going to go over very badly. I can accept you needed to get out of the house, but if you do not get in the truck right now, you will not live to get out of this relationship like you seem to want."

" I got turned around..." she started in nervously, "I was trying to find my way back. I don't even know the address."

He looked very pissed off, she had known he would be but seeing him fuming had an effect on her. He scared her. She wanted to reach for his hand and tell him she was sorry but she got the feeling like that wouldn't go over well with him right now.

He towered over her, even moreso than usual because of his aggressive posture.

"Brett don't kill me," she whispered softly, the tears welling up, "I wasn't trying to run. I just..."

Brett took a calming breath, before looking at her. "Just get in the truck so we can get home and talk. Clearly we need to figure a few things out," he said curtly, before escorting her to the truck and helping her into the seat. He walked around to the driver's side, before climbing in and starting the truck.

It took no time at all to get back to the house, before he parked and closed the garage door. He waited for Taylor, before walking into the house and turning her into the living room. "Sit," he said, before moving to stand in front of her, the pistol at the small of his back resting comfortably in its normal place.

"Don't ever just walk out of this house again. This is your only warning. If you do that again, there won't be anyone who will find you," he said calming and quietly, letting her know what would happen should she disobey him like this again.

He took a deep breath, rubbing his face. "I can understand you getting cooped up while I'm at work. Since you don't seem to want to be around me, I won't try to work from home instead. If you want to go for a walk or get away, ask me and we will go for a walk. Otherwise, keep to the house and back yard. Any questions," he said, his mood still dark and angry.

Taylor sat demurely in the seat beside him, she didn't move. She didn't look up at him or even put her seatbelt on. She just sat there with her hands in her lap looking down at them.

She had made him angry, and now he was going to kill her most likely. She still couldn't look at him as she went into the house, and noticed plainly the pistol tucked against his back when he turned to shut the door behind them.

Taylor felt like a little kid who'd just gotten backhanded while he snarled his instructions and demands at her. When his voice changed and he said he'd work from home she got nervous. She'd rather be alone than be around him all the time.

"You don't have to rearrange your life for me," her small voice stated. She was still staring at her hands in her lap and not looking at him.

Brett just shook his head before walking down to the basement. He needed to get away, before he did something stupid, like shoot Taylor. He had something that could work, and he didn't need to mess it up because this woman seemed to not even bother listening to him. He sighed, before moving through the plans, before stopping abruptly.

"Why is Nate working for the company?" he asked himself quietly, after viewing several pictures of a younger foster boy he knew while in the system. He grimaced, before standing up and heading to his room. He needed to get away, or do something, otherwise this would threaten to throw him out of balance.

Nate had been like a brother to him, and if something happened, he knew that it would shake him. He found Taylor where he left her, before taking her hand. "I need fresh air," he said, clearly worried about something, as he pulled her outside for another walk.

Taylor resisted the urge to pull away from him when he grabbed her hand and almost dragged her out the front door. She wasn't sure if he was still angry at her or not so she didn't say anything or look at him. They walked together the opposite direction that she had gone before, and ended up at a small park. The stone paths wound around cherry trees and a small pond with a group of ducks and ducklings swimming around. He seemed to have calmed down, the air outside was getting cooler for the evening.

"I'm sorry for earlier," she said quietly, still not looking at him. It wasn't hard to do because of the height difference.

Brett took deep breaths as they walked, trying to calm himself down. He knew that this was something that could happen, but it just made it harder for him to deal with. He tried not to be emotional, or get attached, but when you grow up next to a kid, protecting each other from the bigger kids in the foster homes, you kind of formed a bond. He sighed again, before noticing that they had arrived at a park.

After sitting down, he heard what Taylor said, before looking at her. "Right now isn't a good time to try me. This is the point in the plan that could end up going horribly wrong, and I am on a hair trigger as it is. If you need space, or you need something, just ask. What I'm doing is also a precaution for you," he said, before taking a breath and then standing up to walk over to a stand of trees, before taking one more deep breath and finding his center, knowing he would have to deal with this situation as it happened.

Taylor didn't know what to say, so she just nodded.

Why wasn't he just a normal guy? This would be so much easier. She watched him walk away, he seemed very stressed out but she was afraid to ask why. So she resigned herself to just listening to him.

"I will listen to you..." she said quietly.

Taylor had never liked being told what to do, by anyone. And it had never been a problem before, she always worked hard in school and never needed to be told what to do there or at the orphanage.

"I just need to have my own life aside from this," she looked at his back trying to gauge his reaction based on his posture.

"You can have your own life, but I will not take any chances right now. Once this first phase is completed, you'll be able to do pretty much anything you feel like you'd like to do. For the time being, we can do what you'd like, but it will be done my way," Brett said softly, yet firmly.

He sighed, running his hand through his hair. He knew that this could get even more complicated, but he didn't want things to get crazy. He was also trying to shield Taylor from several things that could potentially harm her. He thought about it, before smiling slightly.

"Have you thought about taking online classes, or classes in general? There are several colleges in the area, and if you're interested, we can have you as a student of whatever degree you would like to do at the time," he said, trying to placate her and possibly get her to give in to what he was saying, at least for the time being.