A little Vancouver drizzle goes a long way, thought Li Ann as she
made her way through the Agency corridors towards the briefing room.
Rain glistened on her short dark hair and she knew that it looked
good on her. The usual tribute of admiring glances followed her
progress down the corridor.
"Merry Christmas," called some faceless bureaucrat or other, grinning
broadly.
"Merry Christmas," returned Li Ann.
What she really wanted to say was that Hong Kong didn't celebrate
Christian holidays, and that her family had a proud and ancient
Taoist tradition of its own.
"Merry Christmas."
Li Ann allowed her urbane smile to warm the people she met on her
way, wishing them the compliments of the season. Inside, her mind was
seething with irritation. Damn cultural imperialists and their blind
arrogance, assuming that she wanted to participate in the celebration
of their holy days. Still, if the Tangs had taught her anything, it
was the wisdom of fitting in. Vancouver was her home now. She might
even wave a flag on Canada Day, if it was expected of her.
"Merry Christmas, Li Ann."
Even the director?
Li Ann felt her mood lightening as she pushed the door to the
briefing room closed and slid into her accustomed chair. There was
something about the director in fishnets, ermine, and a red Santa
hat, that had her smiling with genuine amusement.
Mac and Vic, on the other hand, looked as if they'd seen better days.
"Hard night, you two?" she asked with mock sympathy, wishing she had
a whip like the director's so that she could bang it down on the
table and make them wince.
Okay. Li Ann was not usually vindictive. It wasn't part of the makeup
of such a clever thief. But the way her two former fiancées had
gotten together, doing things with each other in the privacy of their
own homes, even trading the odd sappy look when they thought no one
was watching. It made her blood boil. Did they have to get over her
*quite* that quickly? And with each other?
"What's the assignment?" asked Vic, looking at the director with the
kind of baleful stare that would have had a normal person quaking in
their boots.
"No assignment," said the director, smiling blandly. "I just wanted
to wish you a merry Christmas."
Mac groaned and buried his head in his hands. "You called us in here
on Christmas Day, interrupting valuable drinking time, on our one day
off, just to wish us…"
It trailed off in what sounded like a string of muffled obscenities.
"And to give you your Christmas presents."
Mac perked up at that, cutting short his litany of abuse to look up
at the director with a puppy dog smile. "Great. Whatcha get me?"
The director produced a bulky bag from beside her chair with a
flourish and pulled out a gaily wrapped package.
"Just the one?" asked Mac, suspicion all over his expressive face.
Mac had always loved Christmas. He'd celebrated it with his family
before he joined the Tangs. It was one of the things about him that
annoyed Li Ann the most. That, and the whining.
The package was slim and addressed very clearly to Li Ann. No one
moved as it sat there on the table. Eventually, Li Ann nudged it
carefully with one immaculately groomed nail, as though it might bite
her.
"What about me?" demanded Mac.
"You've both been very naughty boys," said the director, doing her
usual exaggerated vamp act as if it never got tired. "And Santa
doesn't come to naughty boys. You're lucky even just to get the day
off."
"And yet, here we are, at work," said Vic to the empty air,
exasperation clear in his lightly clenched fists.
"Aren't you gonna open it?" asked Mac. Presumably, the vicarious
thrill of someone else getting a present was almost enough for him.
He'd always been the most generous man Li Ann had ever known, even in
the bedroom.
"Maybe later," said Li Ann. She could tell, just by the slight lift
of one elegant eyebrow, that the director didn't want her to open it
in front of the others. So why call them all in and hand it over in
front of them? There was no understanding their boss, sometimes.
"Li Ann, I want you to call in at the archives and check a reference
for me. For the Baker case," said the director, dismissing them all
with a negligent wave of her hand.
Meeting over.
Vic and Mac couldn't get out of there fast enough, though both gave
her a perfunctory peck on the cheek as they left.
"Wanna come over later?" whispered Mac as he buffed her cheek.
"Maybe tomorrow," said Li Ann, unmoved by the disappointment in his
eyes.
When she turned back to the table, the director was gone as well.
Probably slithered off into some hole or other. Grasping her present
gingerly, Li Ann turned it over and over. Shook it. Sniffed it.
Nearly dropped it on the floor and trampled on it. But in the end,
she unwrapped it carefully and methodically, folding up the paper as
she went.
Hmmn. A hand-held camcorder. And a card.
"The best presents are homemade," she read aloud. There followed a
list of very explicit instructions.
No need to guess any more what the director wanted for Christmas.
**************
Only an athletic and clever person could have concealed themselves in
plain sight on the balcony outside Vic's apartment. Bundled up
against the light rain, and hoping that she didn't catch a cold, Li
Ann decided that this was the most miserable holiday of her life. But
at least she had a very clear shot of the action in the lounge, where
Vic and Mac were eating their Christmas dinner.
Not that it had started with dinner. There'd been cuddling and
kissing on the couch, all faithfully recorded. Opening of presents
came next, complete with an astonished screech by Mac (literally),
followed by him hurling his gangling frame at Vic so hard that they
flipped the couch over in their enthusiasm. Nicely captured on film.
Pre-dinner drinks – recorded for posterity. Sappy sipping from each
other's glasses. In fact, there was enough blackmail material already
to keep them working for the director from beyond the grave
And now they were munching their way through turkey and stuffing. If
they'd put on paper hats, Li Ann would have had to have shot them. As
it was, the camera kept shaking in her hand as she tried not to laugh
out loud. Who would have thought that Vic and Mac would share a
Hallmark Christmas? Certainly not Li Ann. She would have pictured
them, if she'd given it any thought at all, sitting around drinking
whiskey from the bottle, eating take-out and wearing grungy sweats.
Farting and laughing loudly. Maybe watching sports on TV and bitching
about the dismal performance of their favourite players and the
referees.
Of course, they probably did all of that every other day of the year.
Li Ann just hadn't expected Christmas to be any different.
But there they were, in tidy clothes if not dressed up, toasting each
other with chardonnay and eating a traditional Christmas roast. With
trimmings. Those cooking lessons of Vic's had clearly paid off.
What was that? No, she hadn't imagined it. Vic had turned away for a
moment and Mac had slipped him a mickey. Interesting. Maybe Mac was
going to corrupt this saccharine scene by drugging Vic and then doing
unspeakable things to his unconscious body. Now that would be worth
videoing.
Vic took a mouthful of his wine. Li Ann watched him swallow, admiring
the way his throat muscles relaxed and contracted. He really was a
beautiful man. But stupid. He didn't seem to notice anything amiss.
Not that Mac would have slipped him something with an obvious flavour
to it.
While she waited for Vic to pass out, Li Ann held the camera steadily
and tried not to listen to the inane conversation being picked up by
the sensitive equipment.
"Li Ann was looking hot today."
Okay. Maybe not so inane.
"Ya think?"
What a bastard that Mac was.
"What's her beef with Christmas?"
"Vic. Newsflash. Not every country in the world celebrates Christmas.
To some, it's just a day when westerners commemorate the religion
that helped them conquer and oppress most of the planet."
"Li Ann told you that, huh?"
"Hey, I can have profound political thoughts."
"Li Ann told you that, huh?"
"Yeah, okay, Li Ann told me that. Where are you going?"
"Fuck. Suddenly I've gotta pee like there's no tomorrow."
Li Ann didn't film Vic dashing off to the bathroom. Instead, she
watched in astonishment as Mac bounded off his chair the minute Vic
was out of sight, grappling desperately for his overnight bag in the
corner. He was pulling something out – some sort of sex toy for when
Vic passed out?
Hmmn. That was disappointing. A large plastic bag in which Mac began
to – okay – why was Mac slipping pieces of turkey and vegetables into
the bag, looking anxiously over his shoulder in the direction of the
bathroom?
Mac was stealing food? Li Ann's heart lurched in unwilling sympathy.
Maybe he hadn't come that far from the streets of Hong Kong, after
all.
Nothing could have matched Mac's nonchalant sprawl, though, by the
time Vic returned to the table.
"Hey, you've eaten half already. You must be really enjoying it,"
said Vic, grinning proudly. "And you said those cooking classes were
a waste of time."
"Yep. Got me there, Vic," said Mac politely, almost eating a piece of
stuffing. Li Ann watched in fascination, moving the camera in time to
the motion of Mac's knife and fork as he pushed the food around his
plate.
"Damn," snapped Vic suddenly. "Gotta go again."
Mac was up in a flash, and stuffing more of his meal into his bag
with an air of maniacal glee.
Twice more, Vic had to race to the toilet, and by the time his
bladder had settled down, Mac's plate was sparkling clean.
"Damn, that was good," Mac said brightly. His face fell a little when
Vic announced that he'd made dessert, but he rallied quickly and
initiated one of the most scorching kisses Li Ann had ever seen. By
the time they'd practically devoured each other's tonsils, she was
starting to shake a little, trying to hold the camera steady.
"Fuck dessert," said Mac, groping Vic's ass in a very unsubtle way.
"I'd rather fuck you," growled Vic, in a way that hit Li Ann like a
punch in the guts. She remembered when that smoky voice had promised
to fuck *her*. But he hadn't been what she'd needed. Yes. She just
had to keep reminding herself of that.
Great. They were going to do it on the couch. She didn't have to try
to maneuver herself to a position where she could film the bedroom.
Shivering in the cold night air, Li Ann wished that the heat being
generated in the lounge could warm her. Vic was feathering kisses on
Mac's face, throat and chest, with little nips that the camera showed
to be leaving faint marks. Mac's head was lolling back on the couch
and he was groaning quietly. Li Ann couldn't remember if Mac had been
this relaxed, this vocal, with her. It was hard to concentrate.
She tried to remove herself from the scene and watch with clinical
detachment, as Vic practically tore Mac's pants to shreds, ripping
them off with more haste than finesse. Li Ann had always insisted on
folding her clothes neatly before taking things any further. Now, she
had to wonder if that had killed some of the passion for Vic. He had
certainly never gone down on her with anything like the enthusiasm he
was now showing for Mac.
Despite herself, Li Ann licked her lips. Vic drew back for a second,
and the camera got an unobstructed view of Mac's heavy erection, the
head bloated and purple with lust. The director would appreciate that
shot, she thought, as the back of Vic's closely cropped head filled
the lens again, bobbing up and down with a lazy, irregular pace. It
was oddly erotic, watching one former fiancée blow the other. There
was a growing heat as Vic increased his pace, as though she could
feel his tongue dancing inside her instead of licking a careful trail
up Mac's cock.
"More," she heard Mac gasp. Almost, she'd said it herself.
Vic's laugh was wicked, as he started to tease Mac, licking his
thighs and balls, swabbing everywhere except for his straining cock.
"Get on with it," hissed Li Ann.
Shit. She'd said that out loud. Heart hammering, Li Ann stared
intently at the man stretched out on the couch, and the dark-haired
man kneeling on the floor beside him. But neither seemed to have
heard her. Vic continued to torment Mac with little nips and kisses,
until finally Mac grabbed a handful of Vic's hair and forced him down
hard on his crotch. Vic was still laughing, she could tell by the way
his shoulders were shaking. But he must have been doing a good job of
sucking, too, since Mac was moaning almost constantly now.
Mac was a leaker. Vic would be swallowing frantically, his throat
well lubricated by Mac's juices. Li Ann used to be able to take all
of Mac that way, he was so slippery and her control of her own gag
reflex was that damn good. Holding the camera with one hand, she
mopped a film of sweat off her forehead with the other, wondering if
Vic had managed to go all the way down on him. Lucky Mac. Vic was
very talented in the oral department, as Li Ann had good cause to
know.
Mac's hands were spasming on Vic's head now, and he was giving that
little shout that he did when he came. Pushing frantically up off the
couch. Practically knocking Vic's head off, by the look of it.
Oh, gross. Now they were kissing, sharing Mac's spunk between them in
a parody of mouth-to-mouth. Li Ann could see it dribbling down Mac's
chin, his face turned towards the camera. Li Ann never swallowed, the
taste and texture was disgusting. But Vic didn't seem to mind it, and
nor did Mac. Eating his own cum. How repulsive. Still, given the way
Mac had desperately tried to get rid of his dinner, maybe anything
was tasting good after Vic's cooking.
Okay. Breathe. She must be getting rattled if she was starting to
think like Mac.
Did couples usually kiss for ten minutes at a time, like that? Mac
was getting hard again. Li Ann couldn't see Vic's cock from this
angle, but she knew from memory how big and angry-looking it would
be. What a fucking monster. And he was going to put that inside Mac?
How was that even possible?
That it was on the cards was clear from the way Vic had just flipped
Mac over on his stomach, his body pliant and beautiful in the
afterglow of orgasm. Mac's legs were spread wide apart and Vic was
lapping at Mac's ass with his tongue. Getting him good and wet for
it. The way he used to do with her. It was lucky that the sound of
grinding teeth didn't carry through plate glass.
But Li Ann wasn't jealous. Not really. All of this was just –
unexpected.
Oh, Vic, really? The old lube under the pillow trick? Show a little
class. Still, Mac was a sure thing so maybe it didn't matter. Vic'd
never tried things like that with her. Not that every day had to be
champagne and strawberries, of course. But there was a style to
things, a finesse, that hard plain fucking had nothing to do with.
Maybe that was why things hadn't worked out for her with either of
them? Maybe they both just liked a good hard fuck?
Seemed like Mac did, anyway. Vic had slid home in one hard lunge, his
well-lubricated cock hitting bottom after what seemed an impossibly
long time. Mac's screams were clearly captured by the audio
equipment, and Vic's harsh grunts made a strangely musical
counterpoint. The camera swayed in time with the brutal pounding that
Vic was dishing out. Li Ann's hips were thrusting and her arms
shaking, no matter how hard she tried to control them. Vic had never
fucked her like that, taking his pleasure with casual brutality,
pounding her into a ratty old couch. Suddenly, strangely, Li Ann
found herself wishing that he had. Wanting it desperately.
Mac was wailing now, a series of high-pitched shrieks that should
have set off every dog for miles around. His whole body was shaking
with the force of Vic's thrusts. Vic's hips rammed him like some sort
of machine, steady and sure, never varying the pace, over and over
again.
Actually, no, that wasn't quite right. Faster and harder now. How was
that possible? How could he dish it out, and Mac take it, with such
force and strength?
And how could they both be so beautiful, a tangle of arms and legs,
bodies glowing with a sheen of sweat, loud masculine cries filling
the air?
Oh god, Li Ann was starting to get damp. This was too much, too
intense. She squeezed her legs tightly together, as if that would
help.
"Yes!" Vic's roar of triumph and his frantic pounding signaled his
orgasm. Mac was gibbering some nonsense that the camcorder couldn't
make out, and nor could Li Ann. But she knew that there would be a
damp patch on the couch when they were finished – Mac was a screamer
anyway, but he had this particular pitch whenever he came that could
not be mistaken. And he was coming now. Bucketfuls, by the sounds of
it.
Li Ann wished she'd never been born. Spying on her friends and
partners for a bitch without conscience or soul. Getting turned on by
the sight of their passion. Laughing at their foibles and the funny
little things that spoke of love. Filming their most intimate moments.
And for what? Because the director told her to? For the good of the
Agency and the survival of the team?
Oh, the director had some fucked up explanation for all of this. It
had even made sense at the time, written out in clear precise prose
on a mockery of a Christmas card.
Li Ann made sure not to miss it as Vic pulled his softening cock out
of Mac's ass. Still connected for a moment by a string of liquid. And
then detached, apart. Not really, though, as Vic stretched out on the
couch with his arms around Mac, nuzzling his ear.
These men were in fucking love. And their lives were shit. And so was
hers, standing on a balcony in the cold night air.
Go figure.
"Merry Christmas, Mac Ramsey," murmured Vic. The camcorder picked it
up easily, and Mac's sated sigh in response.
Li Ann dropped the camcorder on the balcony floor and slowly,
methodically ground its delicate components with her foot. When she
was sure that it was damaged beyond repair, she picked it up again.
Li Ann did not believe in littering.
Noiselessly, Li Ann Tsei dropped over the edge of the balcony and
disappeared into the night.
The End.
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