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jamneuromain · 1 year

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Mr. & Mrs. Levinson

Ari Levinson x Original Female Character (Anna)

Warning: Angst and Smut, Eventual Smut, Graphic Depiction of Violence, Domestic Violence (sort of), Cursing, Oral Sex, Vaginal Sex.

A fusion of Mr. & Mrs. Smith.

Word count: 11k.

Summary: Being enemies saved their marriage.

3 p.m.

"How long have you been married?"

"Six years." "Seven years." They said at the same time, not forgetting to glance at each other when they heard the other's answer.

"Six or seven years." Ari chose what he thought was a compromising answer and cleared his throat, "Actually, we've been married for so long that this is just a routine checkup, you know? Similar to changing the oil, parts, or whatever for an airplane."

The marriage therapist kept his unchanging smile, gazing at the man as strong as a bear - and as hairy as a bear - and the petite woman beside him, "Sure, so let's pop the hood." He flipped open the notepad for his records and wrote something on it, "Let's start with the basics. How would you rate your marriage on a scale of one to ten?"

"Eight." "Uh, is ten is the highest score or...?"

Ari frowned and looked at his wife, who had been with him for six or seven years, sitting by his side: "He said one to ten, honey."

Anna leaned unhurriedly on the couch pillows, the very direction away from Ari: "I was just making sure. Don’t want to give the wrong answer, sweetheart."

The therapist cap the pen and snapped both of them back to attention, "That's okay, let's try again. Ten is the highest score. Are you ready? Three, two, one..."

"Eight." They both answered in unison.

"How is your sex life?" The therapist asked the next question.

Anna rubbed her fingers at the tip of her curly hair and paused for a moment upon hearing the question, "I'm sorry, is this a one to ten question or...?"

The therapist explained, "Just this week, how is your sex life? Oh, and feel free to rate it or just say how you feel about it."

Ari and Anna were uncharacteristically silent.

"Including weekends?" Ari asked, his furrowed brow not loosening.

"Including weekends."

Anna nodded thoughtfully.

They didn’t have sex this week. Neither did they last week. Nor did the week before.

How is one supposed to rate something non-existent?

She tried to remember the last time they'd had sex, which was about a month ago, and they'd both been drinking a little. She remembered they stopped midway. Why did they stop midway?

She remembered that she had gone to the training room to practice boxing before that and accidentally bruised her rear end. She asked him to turn off the lights in between kisses, and he thought it was no big deal, it wasn't like they hadn't seen each other naked. In the end, a simple question of turning off the lights made them break up the kiss and lose the passion to continue.

Ari always ripped orgasms after orgasms from her. It was all about passion and crude rough sex and it was fun.

It was.

Until the passion faded. And he lost his interest over a little question whether to turn off the lights.

Anna returned home, took off her silver wedding ring and put it away on the nightstand. She was fucking tired of everything. She promised Ari to try to see a therapist to salvage their marriage, but she also wanted to throw the fruit bowl in his face and tell him that marriage maintenance is not something she could do alone. She was tired of playing the good housewife at home while he came home some nights smelling of booze and women perfume and God knew where he had been fooling around. The only thing this jerk did well was that he never came home to her with signs of cheating on her: no hair, no lipstick marks, no nothing, as if the escort grinded on him and nothing more. She was tired of him always being the one making decisions, telling her what to do, even including this ridiculous therapy, which she thought was absolutely useless.

She wrinkled her apron, tossed clean frying pans and dishes into the sink to get them wet, then sat up on the bed and called for takeout.

She basically hadn't cooked in seven years of marriage, and she wasn't going to today.

At 7 p.m., Ari came home on time.

"Good evening honey." He greeted her without looking up as he returned the steady stream of texts with one hand. On the other end of the phone was his DHS supervisor, sending him some key information for his next mission.

Anna had the frilly apron on her and spatula in hand, wanted to open her mouth to greet him, but was furious at the way he greeted her without even lifting his head. She turned temporarily back to the kitchen and sprinkled more sugar and salt on one of the steaks frying in the pan to make sure it was cooked until it was overcooked.

Ari hung up his coat and wondered if the kitchen noise was too loud to muffle his greeting. He stowed his phone properly in his pocket and leaned against the kitchen doorway, raising his voice slightly: "Good evening, honey."

Anna flashed him an impeccable smile, "Good evening. Go wash your hands, dinner will be on the table in a minute." Only when he was completely out of sight did the smile on Anna's face collapse, the meat cleaver in her hand stabbing an inch into the wooden chopping board. A greeting without even looking up? Did his mother ever teach him manners?

At the dinner table, Ari and Anna engaged in some routine small talk, such as Anna asking him how his day went and if he encountered any tough problems; Ari asked Anna back if she had a good day in Wall Street.

Anna was a financial analyst on Wall Street, at least, that was her cover. True, her workplace was located in a tall building on Wall Street, but that floor was used for surveillance, analysis and operational planning by the NSA, of which she is a member. After years of hard work, Anna had successfully risen to the position of chief of operations for the NSA's New York State Division. Most of the time she sat in her office facing the computer as she would if she were a financial analyst, but there were times when she needed to be on the ground to solve some variables during missions.

Across the table, Ari sliced off a piece of beef with some brute force and popped it into his mouth. The sweet and salty flavor instantly overwhelmed all his taste buds and he choked and coughed. He spat out the unchewable beef and wiped his mouth with a napkin: "Honey, the beef is too salty."

Anna tugged her lips into a light smile, a smile she felt a bit sorry for Ari: "Really?" She immediately added, "I'll put less salt next time."

Ari was tempted to say you should stop cooking, you haven't cooked well in the past six years. But for the sake of marital harmony, he chose to swallow the words along with the sweet and salty taste in his mouth. He made do with a barely palatable selection of vegetables and mashed potatoes and ate his dinner swiftly. Barely palatable. That was his euphemistic comment.

Ari's long, thick fingers lingered on the keyboard for a moment, lost in his own thoughts. Honestly, he wondered how much longer their marriage would last. Two months? Three weeks? Four days? Their passion was no longer there, replaced by endless tedium. He believed they still loved each other, yet every day of marriage life was a wear and tear on that love. What they need was not novelty, which no longer had any place after the first six months of marriage. What they need was something that will sustain their relationship for a long time, the glue that will hold their broken lives together. He had to admit that the lack of togetherness was also a reason why their marriage was coming to an end, but there was no way he could make his schedule change. After all, the mission wouldn't pick his “supposedly” working hours to show up. He had to find one excuses after another: a temporary plane breakdown at the airport, a nice weekend with his fellow mechanics, a farewell to a fellow who was leaving.

This fake identity of an aircraft repair mechanic was not solid enough, but it's the best he can do. Ari sighed and tapped down two or three lines of a mission report.

"Hi, sweetheart. I got your coffee."

Anna appeared silently in front of his computer with a steaming cup of coffee: "What are you working on?"

"Jesus." he was startled by her sudden appearance and hit Alt and Tab simultaneously, "Nothing, honey, just the schematics."

"Oh, okay," she walked around the mahogany table and put her coffee in his hand, her eyes glancing at the computer screen. "Yeah SURE." Her big brown eyes lost that glint of smile, "I'll leave you alone."

Ari stiffly turned his head to look at the pornhub interface he had fumbled to place on the main screen, which contained the video of a topless woman bouncing up and down on a rubber dildo. Ari had no fucking idea why it was here, nor had he any interest of watching a woman fucking herself with a toy - apart from Anna.

This is definitely one of his most embarrassing moments. He lied to her about work, only to let her “find out” he was watching porn.

Great.

Just fucking great.

He rubbed his face with his palm: "Wait, Anna-"

Anna left the study without looking back: "You’ll sleep in the second bedroom tonight."

Less than half an hour later, Anna answered a phone call.

"Sorry, some shareholders in Wall Street is holding an emergency meeting, I need to go check." She calmly packed her handbag, put on her coat and left in a hurry.

Only after she left did Ari remember the party at Gray's house next door in an hour. They had promised to go last week.

The text he sent instead seemed cold and indifferent: "Don't forget Gray's party at nine."

"Okay."

Her reply was even briefer.

"Your man?" Jennifer, dressed in plain clothes, joked about it before Anna pressed the lock button on her phone.

Anna tied her hair up, avoided the question:" Do you know any divorce lawyer?"

Jennifer thought for a moment, "I remember Natalie from the other department almost got divorced," she took out her work tablet and cross-referenced everyone's schedules, "I'll set up a meeting for you with her tomorrow at 10:30, I think she's free at that time. "

"Jenni-"

Anna hadn't actually thought about finding a lawyer. Marital property, prenuptial property, real estate ...... Gosh, they didn't have a prenuptial agreement. Now that she thought about it, it was an unforgivable mistake for them to get married.

At least not signing a prenup accounted for eighty-nine percent of the mistake.

She made that number up, but she quickly made up the remaining eleven percent.

Ten percent was his frequent disappearances.

One percent was their size difference.

"It's already booked." Jennifer arranged it without a word, "Besides, what could go wrong with just talking?" They spoke as they made the final adjustments before the mission began.

"The target is Friedrik Karls Vogelbaum, male, sixty-five years old. Our mission is to transfer a flash drive from the target containing information of a new biological virus, sufficient to destroy a half of the Earth's population. Note that Mr. Vogelbaum has just lost a deal with an international arms dealer Morian, so he will do everything in his power to protect the case containing the flash drive, and there may be multiple parties coming to seize it. I expect everyone to cooperate properly in recovering the high-risk item, understood?"

"Yes, ma'am!"

Everyone in the tiny camouflaged van responded in unison.

"Very well." Anna sat in the middle of the chair as electronic screens lit up around the perimeter showing various street-level surveillance, Anna adjusted her headset, "Agent Weiss, do you copy?"

"Very clear, Agent."

Anna switched the headset channel and methodically gave one order after another, "I want the traffic lights at 15th Street and Northwest Avenue locked so the target can't cross the street; standard follow up, one up front and one behind the target, don't draw any unnecessary attention. Do we have eyes across the street? Good. "

Inside the tiny van, the four mission support members of the operation team held their breath.

The plan was to set an agent to attract Vogelbaum's attention, followed by a second agent to switch the case.

Unfortunately, Vogelbaum held the case so tightly the entire time, that the team had to improvise a surprise by having someone on a bicycle run Vogelbaum over and then take advantage of their distraction to swap the case.

The mission went very well overall.

Except for Anna, who pretended to be a passerby to help the bike-riding agent out of trouble, which wasn't exactly pleasant. She had to pretend to be surprised by asking Vogelbaum if he was international movie star Mads Mikkelsen, asking him to pose for a photo and sign a napkin. Otherwise, judging by the way Vogelbaum grabbed the cycling agent and looked him in the eyes, it would not end well.

She took off the beanie she'd pulled off randomly on the street and Jennifer's big black-rimmed glasses and returned to the van. Jennifer handed her a tissue to help her wipe away the fake freckles and moles, temporarily dotted with a marker on her only mere seconds ago.

"Thanks." Anna smoothly put the marker in her pocket and borrowed some water to clean her face.

Agent Weiss and two others circled back to the NSA's New York headquarters and opened the case as the entire ops team watched.

The case was empty.

Max Grey is one of those typical neighbors you want next-door. If Max lives in some lucky neighborhood, then everyone not only enjoys a barbecue party every month or two, but also receives the occasional cake, cookie or pie from his wife.

Max and his wife, Loreen Gray, don't have any noisy children yet. Admittedly, they are preparing to have one, but not yet. That's something that makes them better neighbors.

The Levinsons showed up at Gray's door with smiles on their faces, even though they were late. The Grays were kind enough to let them join the house party, and Max shoved a cold beer in Ari's hand and invited him to sit on the “men's side”. Sometimes, Ari wished he wasn't so big. He looked like he's the boss of some notorious biker gang in his form-fitting leather jacket. And some obvious male psychology suggested that all the men in the room were trying for the Alpha position in the crowd. This meant most of the men would be hostile to him from the moment he entered the room. But his years as a secret agent have allowed Ari to blend in like a fish in water, picking up a few jokes, clinking glasses (or bottles, in this case) with the men around him, and showing a funny but not overly standing-out profile to the others.

He raises his beer bottle to his lips and looks across the living room to the "ladies' side," where Anna was with Loreen, sat among all the ladies with bubbly water. She looked a bit overwhelmed, he thought as he swallowed his cold beer.

Anna was indeed very overwhelmed.

For the love of the computer gods, moms and soon-to-be moms all around are fucking talking about having kids and raising kids and nursing kids. Anna was an only child and had very little contact with her bloodsucking relatives, and she was surrounded by partying and clubbing women - in short, no one had children, not her friends, not her family, certainly not herself. She also did not know how to raise children, this kind of topic she naturally did not have the slightest clue.

Mrs. Brown, who lived across the street from the Levinsons, needed to go to the bathroom. She handed Anna Teddy Brown, her one-year old son and rushed off. Loreen, however, gave Anna a chance to be a mom, which included ideas on how to hold the little one and how to make him laugh. The more she listened, the more Anna suspects that Loreen was partly encouraging her to become a mother. Anna's hand was free to poke Teddy's fleshy cheek, but Teddy flattened his mouth, lost interest in the toy and the stranger, and turned around to cry for his mom.

Fortunately, Mrs. Brown came back in time to take the hot potato away from Anna.

So much for having a kid and enjoying the domestic life.

"Why are you home late today?" Ari asked as they washed up before bedtime, spitting out a mouthful of toothpaste foam.

Anna put on a hydrating mask, smeared essence on her neck and said carelessly, "The shareholders were arguing about the final investment decision."

"So they finally agreed?"

"Can't tell you that, sweetheart," Anna braided her medium-length hair and her tone grew vaguely impatient, "I've told you. The BRC prevents people working in finance-related industries from disclosing relative information."

Anna's impatience stemmed not only from something Ari could never remember, but also from the fact that she had been scolded by her boss at the end of today's mission. Of course, she excused her team and took the blame for the problem. They had repeatedly gone over the surveillance footage of the mission, and found that every step of the mission was accurate, so it could only be that their intelligence had been faulty. Looks like another organization had targeted the highly dangerous biological information Vogelbaum was carrying and taken the flash drive before they did.

Her boss, Mr. Samson, also knew this. Yet the loss of the flash drive was concluded as the major failure in their mission, whether it was in the damn case in the first place or not. From that moment on, everyone had to work overtime to review frame by frame how and when the flash drive was lost.

If she hadn't said she had to go back to a neighborhood party and insisted it would help her keep her fake identity, Samson might have let her stay on this floor all night watching surveillance with everyone else.

"Go back to that party of yours, and next time don't let the your life get in the way of work." Samson waved his hand and dismissed her.

She muttered under her breath, "Soon it won’t be."

2:30 a.m. Ari tossed and turned in the second bedroom alone, unable to sleep. Not only was the bed here harder than the master bedroom, but there was no Anna nestled in his arms. He cursed in annoyance and got out of bed to try the master bedroom. Anna used to let him sleep in the second bedroom when she was angry with him. Although she would lock the door every time, Ari would quietly use the backup key to open the door in the middle of the night and go back to Anna's side in the master bedroom before he could sleep peacefully.

He unlocked the door with a click, but the next second the smile on his face faded when the door wouldn't budge at all. He got down and peeked at the bottom of the bedroom door and found a small door stopper taped to the inside of the door. Six years ago, when they were first married, Anna and he had a falling out. Using the key to open the door, he had unfortunately knocked over her bottle of expensive foundation in the dark. The next thing he knew, she yelled at him to fuck off.

Shit. He thought to himself that there was no way he could get back to Anna without her noticing.

He tried the bedroom window for the next hour, but also hit a wall. Or perhaps it would be more accurate to say that he hit the lock, as the window was locked up. Even if he chose to break the window, he didn't think he'd be able to get back to Anna tonight. Shit.

Ari rubbed his overgrown hair and paced back to the study. His supervisor had just sent him a video of the street surveillance, asking him to carefully screen it for suspicious people. The overall blue-gray-toned video was watermarked six hours ago, about the same time when Anna went out for a meeting. He was also out, to carry out his mission.

His mission was to use the opportunity created for him by the other agents to steal a flash drive from the case of an old biology professor. The professor was sitting in the hotel lobby an hour ago after his deal with arms dealer Morian fell through, and DHS engineered a clumsy waiter to break six glasses on top of the hotel tiles while he entered the deciphered code to open the case, took out the flash drive, closed it and retreated. The whole mission took less than ten minutes, but he didn't tell Anna he went out. Sneaking out when she had something to do was not something honorable, yes, he would admit that. But Ari did not want to lie either, at least not to her hopeful eyes.

Ari casually pulled on his pajama pants and went to the study to open his laptop. He didn't bother to turn on the light, otherwise, it would have woken her up. Now, he didn't know the reason behind not turning on the light was whether he was afraid he would wake her up and they would fight, or he was afraid she wouldn't react at all to his outlandish behavior. He squinted against the harsh light of the computer screen, pinched the bridge of his nose, and sifted through suspicious characters.

He paused the video at the spot where Vogelbaum had been hit and stumbled on the sidewalk. Here Vogelbaum's suitcase was knocked off into the blind spot of the surveillance, not even a shadow could be seen. And the cyclist wore windproof glasses and a scarf covering his mouth and nose, so tightly covered that he simply could not get the technician to zoom in and extract the facial data. Vogelbaum grabbed the bicyclist and demanded an explanation, from the look of the video, and someone handed the furious old man the case from the blind spot. But the hand only appeared for a moment, while all other angles of the surveillance were high and fuzzy.

Another dead end. He sighed.

Pedestrians bustled past Vogelbaum, nothing out of the ordinary ...... His argument with the bicyclist lasted a few seconds, when a girl came from the other side of the street, grabbed Vogelbaum by the arm, pulled out her black cell phone, and took out a napkin and marker. The bicyclist took this moment to slip away.

Ari paused the video again by intuition. This beastly instinct had saved his life many times before in a hail of bullets. The girl wore large black-framed glasses and a beanie, and had a conspicuous black mole on her face. She showed at most half her face to the surveillance, but it was enough for picture refinement. There was a strange familiarity about this girl. It seems that the coat she wore was very similar to the one Anna owned. Ari's eyes fell on the corner of the surveillance video, where there was a small flash of light.

Ari reassured himself that he was overthinking it, and that Anna's phone was milky white. But he got up and went downstairs anyway. Tonight, Anna came back from a meeting and they went straight to Gray's house, where, as usual, her coat should be hanging by the door. As if to reassure herself, and to prove herself wrong, Ari quietly went to the door where the clothes were hanging.

He first saw the shiny pin on the collar. Nothing about this pin was fancy and delicate like everything else in this house was. He remembered that pin, he hand-made it as a gift for wedding anniversary. And then the bulge caught his eyes. It was unethical to look into his partners’ pockets, he knew that. But he reached his hands inside, and discovered a marker and a napkin.

Anna couldn’t sleep tonight. This wasn't her first failed mission, however, it was kind of her most frustrating one. It didn't feel good at all to have the drive taken away from her one step ahead of time. She got up and checked the new messages on her work phone in the faint moonlight.

"Jenni?"

Looking at the messages and ten missed calls from an hour ago, not the least of which was from her boss, Samson. She hesitantly called Jenni back.

"Anna, we checked the security footage from the hotel where Vogelbaum stayed a few hours ago." Jennifer's words had a shudder that was not easily detected, "We suspect he was hired by Morian when Vogelbaum's deal fell through. Ari Levinson is a false identity, Anna--" her phone was taken from her by Samson, his cold voice echoed her brain, "You have twelve hours to bring back Mr. Levinson to our New York headquarters. If you can't bring him back alive, interrogate him about the whereabouts of the flash drive. If you do not respond to our message in twelve hours, and not bringing back Levinson or the flash drive, then the NSA will use extreme measures against you. Do you copy, Agent?"

"Yes." She replied mechanically.

"Very well, I'll be waiting to hear from you." Samson hung up the phone forcefully and ordered the two agents beside him, "Put Agent in our holding cell." His indifferent face seemed to be a formulaic execution of the Agent Defection Manual, "Please understand, Agent., hand over your badge and sidearm."

Jennifer spread her badge and sidearm on the table, and before she was taken away by the two agents she said to Samson stubbornly, "I trust Anna. She's loyal to the NSA."

"That would be wonderful." Samson said grimly, "Then killing Mr. Levinson wouldn't be a problem for her if she had to, would it?"

Jennifer bit her lip. That was something she couldn't guarantee. She glared at the agent who shoved her and spat out, "I can walk by myself."

Anna rolled out of bed and removed her sidearm from the secret safe in her closet. Inside the safe laid her NSA identification badge, but she let it stay there. If Ari really was an enemy agent or a mercenary, it would be more dangerous for her to give him leverage.

There were also pistols strapped under the kitchen sink downstairs and at the bottom of the couch in the living room, both of which she'd better take for protection before confronting Ari. At this point, her mind was muddled: Ari? She had seen him fixing locomotives and trucks and planes. Was that a fake identity? Just his cover? She only had 12 hours, how could she subdue Ari, and get him to reveal the location of the flash drive? Or did he have the flash drive on him?

She opened the bedroom door as quietly as she could, not even noticing the second bedroom door was opened. Anna held her gun ready to fire. She never thought she would feel unsafe in her own house. She smiled bitterly, perhaps it would save the trouble of divorce. She stepped cautiously down the stairs one step at a time, the bright moonlight shining through the living room window on the Persian rug. The light brown, hard-to-wash, easy-to-stain Persian rug had been bought the year before when they had done a minor remodeling of the house. Their relationship wasn’t so bad then.

She took a deep breath and cleared her head. There's plenty of time for grief after this bullshit.

Geographically, with the kitchen pistol closer to her, she stepped down the last step of the stairs and turned toward the vast darkness of the kitchen.

"Good evening, honey."

Ari sat wide open in her usual spot, his right index finger firmly on the trigger of a pistol, the muzzle pointed right at her. He had put on his coat, but his unbuttoned coat could not cover his hairy chest.

At the sound of his voice, Anna's hair stood at the back of her neck, her whole body screaming for her to get away from the danger as soon as possible.

"Good evening, sweetheart." She tried to be as calm as she could, "Why are you awake?"

He seemed to find her question very amusing and cocked his head, "I was going to ask the same question."

Anna approached him step by step, but stood at a distance of nine feet from him. She hadn't even changed her clothes. DAMN IT. She was still wearing her nightgown, yet the bottom half of his body was likewise in pajama pants. Maybe that meant he'd just found out his own identity had been revealed not long ago, too, so he'd only had time to pull on his outerwear.

Ari's eyes flirtatiously glided over the lace-trimmed cleavage at the top of her nightgown that barely covered it. He would never admit that he had just been attracted to the view there for a second, it would be too unprofessional. His wife was going to kill him, he had to be professional.

"Did you take Vogelbaum's flash drive?"

"I can neither confirm nor deny that." He threw the subject back at her as it was, his index finger tightening on the trigger. Anna saw the black muzzle and the dark silhouette of the gun and was beyond sure the bastard had removed the safety from the gun before she came downstairs.

He got up with a tight grip on the pistol, and Anna's aim followed his movements, aiming at his forehead or the bridge of his nose, a shot that would basically make his brains burst out. He spoke slowly: "Look, honey, I didn't mean for things to get this bad. Tell me who your employer is, and maybe I'll consider sparing your life."

"Funny, I was going to say the same thing. Whom do you serve?"

Ari was almost exasperated; his cute little wife was such a tough talker as always. Focus Ari, she had a gun. The flared hair made him basically a brown lion, retaining the ferocity of that predator hunting. He grinned. A jackal-like grin hung on his face as if he planned to tear someone to pieces the next second, "What, you want me to say, Jesus Christ?"

Anna knew exactly what was going to happen next, or the next few scenarios that could happen. In scenario number one, she succeeds in subduing Ari and escorting him to the NSA, five percent chance. In the second scenario, she dies in the process of subduing Ari, the probability is 20 percent - she knew very well that her fighting skills were only above the standard passing line, and she could say that she has no chance against Ari. In the third scenario, she is injured and captured in the process of subduing Ari, 60 percent chance- God knows how blood and violence will happen after this episode. In the fourth scenario, she is slightly injured in the process of subduing Ari and manages to escape, returning to the NSA and having them send agents after Ari, a fifteen percent chance, and her best option at this point.

Considering all four possibilities and her probability of survival, she chose the fourth one.

The place she was standing was close to the front and back doors, and if she could run into the garage, she could hot-wire a car and escape. It seemed like a good choice. But right now, she couldn't compete with Ari on who could fire their gun faster.

"Don't make me do this in the hard way." Ari furrowed his brows. He really didn't want their marriage to end this way, much less with a few rounds of ammunition and an interrogation room. If Anna had cooperated, he might have said a few kind words about her to his supervisor, even though he knew they would carry little weight, and even his supervisor would have called him “out of his fucking goddamn mind”.

It seemed that both Ari and she had chosen not to take the preemptive strike. She was curious if Ari would set up his own escape plan - focus, Anna, you no longer have a husband who argues with you because the meat displeases his taste. What else did she need? For hot wiring a car she'd still need a knife, to the kitchen then. She could break out the window with a knife in her mouth if she had to.

The kitchen was behind Ari, which was a bit of a problem. She gradually distanced herself from Ari.

Ari half-heartedly persuaded her to submit to him before more damage was caused. When he said "our marriage", the tears that had been building up in Anna's eyes finally fell. A beam of moonlight from above the stairs poured hazily over her face, and her tears seemed to glisten with light.

"Let's not fight, okay?" Ari meant it when he said this, reaching out a hand to Anna to hand in her firearm.

She lifted her head, her furrowed brows stretched, and a cold light flashed in her eyes: "FUCK YOU." She fired instantly, then rolled and ducked behind the couch. Ari's reaction was also very fast, as he switched his left hand to hold the gun and hit the couch with a couple of shots, but the dull sound of bullets penetrating the cotton of the couch and embedding themselves in the carpet meant that none of the shots hit her, and Anna has taken the opportunity to change her hiding place.

"You disabled yet, sweetheart?" Anna asked.

There seemed to be a flash of something in the dark shadows, and Ari emptied a clip, but only the sound of glass shattered. "To your dismay, honey, I fire better with my left hand." He cursed in secret as Anna's shot grazed an entire patch of skin on the outside of his right forearm. A five-inch wound that looked bloody and messy. Such a large abrasion, if not treated in time, could have ended with an amputation. He yanked off the covering cloth on the couch and wrapped it around his arm, tying a knot to prevent extensive bleeding and infection. But she was right, this wound was very effective in preventing him from shooting with his right hand.

Ari treated the wound and quickly switched magazines, loading all fifteen rounds into the pistol. It was so silent that only his own breathing could be heard, and the dark shadows enveloped the kitchen and half of the living room, so that nothing unusual could be seen. How come he hadn't noticed before that his little wife was so good at the game of hide and seek? He was careful not to let the moonlight shine on him and walked slowly against the wall.

Ari thought he had a vague idea of Anna's method of attack. If she was right, she was inclined to attack by sound, consuming all his bullets and energy before showing herself.

"Give up, Anna, surrender." He shouted.

"In your dreams." An unfamiliar voice ghosted behind him, and he twisted around to pull his gun, two rounds having been fired before he realized it was Siri reading a text message. But he already shattered the phone by then.

The sudden whistling wind made him take a few steps back to avoid whatever it was that was sharp enough to strike. He couldn't help but suck in a breath of cold air as the shiny knife embedded itself in the door frame behind him. Anna let out a laugh as he dodged the knife, but the backward movement sent him into the moonlight. The ensuing flying knives cut his left arm in varying degrees and one small blade pierced his thigh.

Ari's face turned white with pain, and he ducked into the shadows, gritting his teeth and tying another piece of cloth around his thigh. She had avoided major blood vessels, but it was enough to make him less mobile - if that wasn't the explanation, then he'd gotten lucky. Given his greatly weakened combat ability, he needed to make this quick. Wasn't she hiding in the kitchen? He fired three tentative shots in anticipation of her hiding place. The china under the counter shattered inside the cupboard. There was no expected sound of hitting human flesh, and she did not make a sound.

Anna, who was hiding on the side of the counter, was very glad she had her chopping board covering her head and upper body, and the first of Ari's three shots hit her chopping board. Her heart was beating frantically, and rarely did training make her heart beat this fast. Calm down, Anna, she told herself. Cautiously, she picked up a piece of broken glass that had crumbled to her feet and used it as a mirror to look behind her.

There was nothing to see.

Of course, it was as dark as if the room spilled with ink.

The back door to the kitchen was close. So very close. In just three seconds, she could open it and escape.

Come on, Anna, fight for your life. She summoned up the courage to rush to the back door and turned the knob as fast as she could in her life-- and she did.

Except for the fact that the knob wouldn't turn.

It was fucking locked up.

The sound of the lock twisting caught his attention, and bullets came crashing in behind her, and Anna only had time to drop to the ground with her head in her hands and the knife in her hand. The bullet penetrated the upper part of the door glass, and shards of glass fell on her arms, thighs, and cheeks, cutting trails of blood.

"Can't let you get away, honey, I locked the front and back doors before you came downstairs." He closed in on her, the shards of glass shattering beneath his feet with a bursting sound.

She tried to get up and run, but it was too late. The warm muzzle of the gun pressed against her forehead as Ari pulled the restraints from his coat pocket. His eyes lowered as if a lion was sizing up his prey, "Get your hands in there, honey, and don't make this any harder than it has to be."

She let out a breath and sat upright on the floor, “Okay. Can I stand up first?"

"No funny tricks, honey." He gestured for her to first tie the restraints around her wrists. It was much less likely to break free than the handcuffs.

Anna rested her hands on the edge of the kitchen counter and propped her knees up, "I've got my hands where you can see them, didn’t I?”

Ari was distracted from looking at her hands when Anna jerked the counter drawer open and let the wooden drawer hit his cheekbone. Ari let go and the gun fell to the floor, Anna saw the opportunity to kick the pistol away, but she wasn't fast enough to remove the taped gun under the sink before he pulled her by the ankle. The popped-out drawer was hanging outside and struck heavily under her ribs.

Damn, that's going to leave a bruise.

Both of her fists were stopped in mid-air by Ari. His large palm wrapped around her fist to reign in her force with ease, and he used the opportunity to force her arms behind her back. The corners of his mouth were cut and his cheekbone was red and swollen, but he didn't seem to care, flipping his hair out of his sight instead, "Come on, let's talk."

"Fuck your talk."

Anna squeezed the words out from between her teeth as she stomped between his legs, and Ari fell backwards, covering his crotch. She thought that would be enough for her to escape Ari's clutches, but Ari's pain tolerance proved to be much better than she had anticipated. Ari pulled her ankle again, but this time Anna was prepared, she wouldn't be caught up with the same move twice. She elbowed his spine and neck, until Ari was so concussed that he was dizzy and let go of her. Not even slightly relieved, she clenched her fist and punched him in the jaw. Even if it didn't dislocate him, it was enough to relish her anger.

She escaped his grasp and didn't feel safe until her back was against the kitchen corner. She didn't forget to pull off the gun stuck to the bottom of the sink and pointed it at his head.

Ari swallowed the rusty taste of blood and his lips were stained red. He grabbed the knife she had just dropped on the ground, and the hilt turned in his hand, forming a backhanded position with the knife. His jaw joint was vaguely painful, needless to say, came from her last punch. He was half crouched on the ground, his blood-soaked hand smoothing his long hair to the back of his head. A few strands of brown hair dripping with blood slipped down the side of his face, but he had no time to care whether he was decent now.

Ari could slit her throat if he lunged, or he could be pierced by a bullet a few times before he touched her. His dark blue eyes looked at the crimson glass shards that cut through her skin lying on the ground. They looked a bit like the blood diamonds he'd tracked down when he'd first joined DHS. Those blood diamonds were actually see-through and had been swallowed into the bowels of some poor man, staining themselves with the bright red blood of their victims. Since then he had some physical discomfort at the sight of diamonds again, which was why when Anna suggested the diamond ring and he persuaded her to buy the more expensive white gold ring. He deliberately came home at 7 p.m. sharp in order to maintain his cover, so she had to cook dinner for both of them, just because she came home a little earlier. Even the Persian carpet she complained about, which was hard to clean during the annual cleaning, was bought by him to cover up a piece of the floor he had pried up to hide the evidence.

He hesitated and distanced the marriage first. Her detachment was just a natural reaction to several unsuccessful attempts to win him back.

He didn't regret marrying her, but it seemed she had always been the one to back off in the marriage.

"I give up."

He said softly.

If she hadn't seen his lips twitching in his beard, Anna would have thought she imagined him saying that.

Ari tossed the knife into the sink and spread his hands, "I can't ......" His voice lowered, "Anna, I can't do this to you."

He looked straight into her eyes, and only her eyes were illuminated by a sliver of moonlight. Forgotten memories came to mind like a tidal wave: her smiling eyes when they first met, her happy tears when she got married, the temperature in her eyes lowered to the freezing point as she gave in again and again.

He was dying before he understood the failure of their marriage - no, he screwed up big time in the marriage.

It was too late when he understood. A faint red ring mark on her finger already spoke volumes about his failure.

He closed his eyes and waited for his end, whether it was a bullet in the head or endless interrogation and torture. He should not have given up as an agent until the last moment. But he chose to give up for the sake of his conscience and her future, and he only hoped that she would somehow spare him for the sake of his submission. For the first time in his marriage, he truly put the choice in her hands and waited for her decision.

Anna went through a million endings possible in her mind, but none of them involved him surrendering voluntarily and putting the choice in her hands. What would happen next? Would she interrogate him about the location of the flash drive and turn him over to the NSA, or would she ask for it and let him go? Or would she just hand him over to the NSA? Or let him go without further questions?

"Where's the flash drive?"

"It's in a safe place right now, but I don't know exactly where it is," Ari answered honestly. He was only responsible for stealing the flash drive, and he handed it over to his superior as soon as he got it. If his boss had heard what he said, Ari would probably have been benched for thirty years.

"You IDIOT!" Anna was so angry that she wanted to punch this idiot, "That thing can kill people if it got into the wrong hands!"

Ari looked at her confusedly, "Of course, that's why I stole it."

Anna was silent.

She was storming through her mind to calculate the possibility that she had married a dumbass.

"Wait, wait, wait," Ari held up his hands in surrender, "can I ask a question?"

"Yes," Anna said with no intention of answering him.

"Don’t you work for Morian?"

"I thought you work for Morian?"

Ari and Anna stared at each other for a while. At this point in time, there was no need for either side to lie. They both knew that the other was telling the truth, and they were sincere in their questions.

Ari couldn't piece things together for a moment: "Whom do you work for?"

"NSA, I'm the chief of Ops in New York. What!" She snapped.

"Why didn't you say so earlier!"

"You didn't ask! No, whom do you work for?" Anna asked rhetorically, her right eyelid fluttering, always with a bad feeling.

"...DHS, I belong to the Terrorist Activity Monitoring Squad of the Secret Service."

The National Security Agency bumped into the Department of Homeland Security. What are the fucking chances?

"Then why did you say Jesus Christ??" Anna went into a major meltdown, "We wouldn’t have to fight, genius!" She tried to clear her mind, putting the pistol behind her with the safety on, "You just said 'a safe place', you gave it to your boss, right?"

"Yes."

Anna looked even angrier than when they fought earlier, "Why don’t you just say so!"

"I thought you worked for Morian." He explained, a lame excuse, but one that was true, "Optimistically, we -"

"Then why didn't you ask!!!" She was so angry that she yelled at him, her cheeks flushed red - visible even in the hazy moonlight.

"I-"

"ARI LEVINSON you are the most fucking stubborn, stupid, egoistic maniac I have ever met!" She picked up the pistol behind her and threw it right in the center of his chest, followed by a melon and a pear straight at his body.

"Don't hit the wound, honey-"

"Don’t HONEY me!" Anna was shaking with anger, his pitch soaring two octaves higher: "You arrogant, self-absorbent little shit!!! We are getting a fucking divor--" Tears welled up from her eyes.

The familiar warmth gathered around her body, allowing her tears to soak through his coat.

"I'm sorry." He whispered, sounding a little pitiful.

Anna sniffled, her fists striking haphazardly against his back and shoulder. A number of them landed his wounds. On the one hand, she wanted to shoot Ari, but the pistol hit him just now and fell on the floor; on the other hand, she wanted to sink into the warmth of the embrace and never get up again.

She said reluctantly, "Your badge."

"What?" Didn't she say she was divorcing him for one second? Or he thought he would say at least something as cruel as "I hate you". He knew he deserve it though.

His word alone was surely not enough. She needed to see his ID badge, and she needed to call Samson to confirm the situation, as did Ari. "We need to record each other's ID badges and report to our respective supervisors." She kicked his calf, the tear not quite wiped from her face, but she was already thinking about what she was going to do for the next twenty-four hours.

Ari believed for a moment that they were going fuck. But she was right. Indeed, they had more pressing matters at hand that needed to be concluded.

4:30 a.m. In the car on the way to NSA's New York State headquarters, Anna looks at Ari, who has just finished a phone call to his boss, and smiled sweetly: "Have fun, Mr. Husband, you'll have to go over this whole story with my supervisor, Mr. Samson, later." Without even hearing the specifics of the call, she could imagine the shocked look on the face of Ari's supervisor when he heard Ari say that he had been subdued by his wife and the even more astonishing fact that she was an NSA agent.

But she could just as easily imagine that both the NSA and DHS would taunt each other with the other's failure to uncover the false identities of their own agents - or simply keep their mouths shut and put skeletons in the closet, which was probably best for both organizations.

Ari chuckled, choosing to let Anna have her moment of complacency.

"I feel like I should tell you, do you remember that old car we had?" Anna thought for a long time, tapping her fingers on the leather-covered steering wheel, her eyes glancing at Ari, whose long hair covered half of his face.

"Yes, why?"

"I didn't have a car accident. Drove it to the scene during a mission and ended up getting totally banged up by a dumb agent trying to put on a show of Fast and Furious. NSA even helped with a full news blackout at the time."

Ari's expression went from disbelief at first to gradual acceptance, "I told you that injury wasn't serious at all! You could have waltzed out of the hospital and still acted like you need a gurney at any second!"

"But NSA did pay for it, that's why we bought this car." Anna shrugged and took pride in her honesty (and in asking NSA for an extra amount for the damage to the vehicle).

"Fine. A bunch of terrorists once tracked down my, uh, our home address a few years back and started a mass shootout while you were at work - that's why I insisted on renovating the house, or you'd have seen the bullet holes sooner or later."

"You son of a bitch!" She exclaimed, but her tone wasn't quite angry, "You were the one who said that termites had infested the house that time. I was so scared I almost had to put pesticide under my pillow for a month."

"The lawn mower was a little crooked. I grabbed it when I was beating up those guys. I’m surprised you didn’t notice." He sighed.

"To be honest, you've been in charge of mowing the lawn, so I haven't paid much attention to it." She said bluntly, her pale fingers curling up and scratching the steering wheel slightly nervously, "I haven't done much cooking."

"You don't-"

"They’re mostly takeout."

"Fuck." It was Ari's turn to have a slight breakdown, "I never doubted it, just thought your cooking really sucks."

Anna looked into the rearview mirror, "You actually ate something I cooked once. I baked the cookies after the charity sale about four or five years ago."

"...You told me they were from the neighbor next door."

"Yes, after you thought it was too sweet. So I never made them for you again."

Ari caught the gist of the words and straightened his upper body from the car seat: “For me? You still make it yourself?"

"Occasionally, I make myself baked goods when I'm in the mood. But you don't have a sugar tooth, so you won’t touch it even if it's in the fridge." She glanced at him before adding, "My mom's a baker, and I've been helping her in the kitchen ever since I was a kid."

"You told me your mom died when you were a kid."

"Sorry, she's still healthy and very much alive. I think she’s sunbathing on whatever beach she's on. The guy holding me down the aisle at the wedding was an actor I hired - my parents divorced early on and I pretended my dad was dead."

"I told you I thought that guy looked familiar on Law & Order. I actually invited my own parents to the wedding." Ari felt deeply offended by the deception, "I was married once."

He immediately received a few slaps on the shoulder from Anna.

"What's her name and social security number???" She barked at him.

"Hey! Hey! Hey!" Ari had to raise his arms in defense, "She and I got drunk in Vegas back in the day. We signed divorce papers immediately when we were sober!"

"That's not a good reason either." She mumbled darkly, "I'm starting to regret being honest with you."

"It's too late, honey, you've opened Pandora's box." There was an unconscious note of mockery in his tone. He immediately regretted saying this, "I'm sorry, that's not what I meant, Anna."

"It's Diana. mom thought it sounded good when she gave me the name, but then needed to pick a less noticeable name for missions, so my fake identity became Anna. What about you?"

"Levinson is my mother’s maiden name. I used my father's name until I was eighteen, then I joined DHS and needed to completely cut myself off from my old life. One last question, do... did you love me?" He asked calmly, feeling an unmistakable chill burrow into his heart.

"Did."

Ari turned his head to look out the car window, a watery glow already piling up in the corners of his eyes.

The AC blew a whirring cold wind that settled to the floor and gathered at the ankle. Anna looked at the way his goosebumps cover his arm, reached out and turned off the central air conditioning, and opened the windows to balance the temperature inside and outside the car, "still is. Probably will continue to love the idiot who always forgets to turn off the air conditioning in the future."

The chill dissipated.

She slowly pulled the SUV up to a building on Wall Street, the car door unlocked but no one got out.

"Say, you don't have an evil twin brother or anything, do you?"

The slightly sad atmosphere was broken once again by her skeptical question.

"No!" He answered in surprise, raising his eyebrow, "Where did you get that from? I'm an only child."

She pulled out her car keys but didn't forget to close the window, "The plot of 365 Dni. It's always good to be careful." Anna picked up her phone and checked for messages, luckily NSA hadn’t rushed her yet, "That book has been sitting in the middle of the study in the very center of the shelves, haven't you noticed? I bought it last year."

"You speak Polish?"

"No. I purchased an English translation of the book."

"My God, the stuff you read..." He couldn't help but sigh, "It's a novel?"

"I just love dramatic cliche romance novels." She didn't forget to add fuel to the fire before she got off, "Aren't you an agent? You don't even know what novels your wife reads at home?"

At 6 a.m., Ari Levinson and his wife Anna were finally released by the NSA and DHS after an exhausting hour of cross-interrogation and simple wound treatment by the accompanying doctor. With assurances from both superiors, they managed to keep their badges and sidearms. The flash drive problem was handled entirely by the NSA and DHS, which was beyond their pay grade. Jennifer, who was unfortunately caught in the mess, was also released, and Samson gave her a two-day vacation. But Anna had reason to suspect that he didn’t like Jenni's behavior of standing up for her.

Natalie heard that Anna almost killed her husband and secretly slipped her lawyer's business card into Anna’s hand and gave Anna two thumbs up. Anna didn't really want to know what she heard, but according to Jenni, the word around the department now was that Anna beat her husband to ED, and several colleagues claimed that the version they heard was that Anna beat Ari to his knees begging for mercy.

On his knees, well ... pretty much; begging, true. Ari thought silently, draping a thin quilt over Anna's sleeping, curled-up body. She had done too much mental and physical activity overnight, and was so sleepy after leaving NSA that she fell asleep in the passenger seat. He drove home and carried her to the main bedroom. She was disturbed several times, but did not wake up.

Fortunately, the damage they did was not extensive to reach the upstairs bedroom and study. The kitchen was half ruined, as were the living room and entryway. The storage room under the stairs wasn't in great shape either, so he was going to talk to her after she woke up about whether to call in the renovation team. Or maybe she'd wake up and he'd have to deal with their divorce papers and the divorce lawyer with the gold-rimmed glasses.

Ari walked down the creaking stairs and sat down on the couch to pour himself a glass of whiskey. He preferred it on the rocks; however, the fridge was shot through last night. The spicy liquor warmed up his throat and stomach, but the darkness had passed and the temperature would only continue to rise as the sun rose. He leaned back against the couch, the lack of support from the soft fabric always made him feel like he was not lying on his own sofa.

Miraculously, through the thin layer of the floorboard, both of them coincidentally thought about their first meeting. As for Anna, she dreamt about it.

Six or seven years ago, in a rainy and misty southern Argentina, such uncommon precipitation weather naturally gave the intelligence agencies opportunities to take advantage of. Anna was an intelligence analyst at that time and was ordered to come to Argentina to assist a criminal informant to get out of trouble, but more importantly, to get information from the informant about the operation of an international crime syndicate. Something neither she nor her superiors anticipated were that the desperate informant first gave her false information and then defected to the crime syndicate, offering Anna as his proof of loyalty.

Anna had no choice but to shoot the renegade informant. The sound of gunfire brought her trouble, as the police in Cordoba, on the payroll of the crime syndicate, started to investigate who killed the man. They were focused on foreign tourists who were traveling alone.

A few policemen tried to shake down some female tourists, and Anna was one of them. When they questioned Anna loudly in Spanish if she had company, she was relieved by Ari, who called her honey and helped her out. Ari said he was a pilot on a flight from Los Angeles to Buenos Aires, even though he actually poisoned an Argentinean military official in collusion with terrorists before the police riot. He felt sorry for Anna's entanglement and bought her a drink. One drink soon turned into two and three, and then the pair soon fell in love and spent a few more days in Cordoba, kissing, dancing, and laughing.

They both returned to the United States. After a few more dates and three weeks of knowing each other, they announced to everyone around them that they were getting married.

Anna finished her nap and stretched in bed, but almost twisted her back out with the "good morning" from the doorway. Ari leaned against the door frame and grinned at the look on her face. He walked over to the bed and leaned down to kiss her forehead, "Good morning, honey." His warm kisses landed on her brow and the bridge of her nose, his lips eventually lingering for a moment above hers, his crystal blue eyes searching her face for any sign of resistance.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him close for a deeper kiss. The kiss quickly ignited an unfinished flame between them that began with their anger but was not entirely made up of pure bottled-up emotion. The mutual revelation of their identities did not quench their thirst but only temporarily stopped the further spread of the flame that now swept through their souls and bodies, burning down almost everything.

He took off her pajama and took hold of her slim waist, brushing the patch of bruising skin with his thumb unintentionally, earning a soft whine from Anna. Ari regained a moment of sanity from the kiss and his eyes followed the strange touch beneath his fingers. The underside of her ribs was slightly swollen, no doubt from their chaotic encounter downstairs a few hours earlier. He had no strange fetishes, he had to admit, but Anna's bruised and battered body only made him pity her more and his desire to fuck her higher than ever.

"I'm sorry." He whispered his apologies, kissing every tiny cut and bruise beneath, a profound way to remind himself of the mental and physical damage he had inflicted on her. Ari's long hair fell down the sides of his face, sweeping over her body along with his beard. Anna's hands convulsed with his hair, slightly removing some of the itches, yet his soft beard left her squirming under him. There was nothing she could do. He lifted her legs and held her scratched legs over his shoulder, burying his head and kissing the soft flesh on her inner thigh. His ringed left hand rested on the outside of her flesh, the silvery-white ring touching her skin and bringing a cool sensation.

His overly exuberant hair brushed her pussy through her panties, which were soaked with her own juices, and the sensation of being tickled caused her to express her displeasure in a somewhat frustrated, thin moan. Hickeys crept up her inner thighs to the groin where they met her belly. She tried to keep her legs together, but his head was in between and she was afraid of crashing his skull. If he didn't do something to her soon, she really would do something to his skull.

"May I?" His blue eyes darkened. The heat in her body collided with the hot breath across her skin, burning the knots in her lower abdomen.

She lost her strength after just one look at him. Not to mention taking off her panties, these beautiful eyes could have made her tie herself up and edge her ten times over and she’d gladly obey: "Please."

Her panties were flung to God knows where, and that was probably the least thing on her mind right now. He started with a long lick at her slit, then the tip of his tongue went in to seek out the swollen, almost painful clit. "Fuck." His tongue slid around the edge of her entrance, muffled by the abundance of her juices. The vibrating sensation beneath her made Anna clench his hair, running her fingers on his scalp, stirring a few strands into one.

Six years of marriage had given him a good knowledge of the sensitive spots on her body. Ari rubbed his jaw over her mound, making her squirt and come all at once as she whimpered. "Cream on my face, honey." His brush-like whiskers gave her a tingling, intertwined sensation, the delicious beard burn generating soreness she could feel even days later. His whiskers glistened with her crystalline juices, and with a slight gasp, he moved up to kiss her lips, giving her a taste of her own.

Her fingers left the ends of his messy hair and peeled off his tank top and shorts, exposing his thick shaft. It took little time for Ari to get his cock at her entrance and penetrate her effortlessly, his arms gripping her thighs so that her pussy met his shaft without breaking the stitched wound on her body. Her warm, wet channel fluttered upon his intrusion. Her pussy was a constant supply of juices for lubrication, dripping out of her body, yet he felt strong resistance every time he thrust in. She was so tight that made him suck a breath.

"You are so fucking tight, honey, might come just this second." His teeth took her soft earlobe in and whispered filth in her ear, along with his muffled grunts burnt Anna's face. She pulled him down and bit his lips to shut him up, but Ari's hand somehow rested on her tits, pinching her nipple and making her scream. The tingling from her nipple, the warmth coming from her earlobes, her pussy split open by his demanding cock, the squelching noises, the lips grinding and chasing, the rising heat in the room, and the salty taste of sweat on his chin... she was lost in the multiple sensations and soon came.

They made love three times until they both lay exhausted on the bed, panting heavily, unwilling to lift another finger. It wasn’t fuck. The process was gentle and caring. And Ari, for the first time in his life, didn’t thrust into her like a horny teenager, but rocked slowly, allowing her to float in the blissful post-orgasmic fuzzy feeling, rather than passing out the second she had her orgasm. He came three times inside her, stuffing her pussy with so much cum dripping out of her entrance and smeared with her juices. She didn’t particularly enjoy orgasms ripped out of her body, but that didn’t mean she didn’t like to be stuffed full either.

Anna rested on his arm, keeping her back close to his warm chest. His firm arms wrapped around her upper body like chains from behind, while he pressed kisses (and tickled her with his beard) to her shoulder.

After a long time, when the sunlight peeked into the gap between curtains and landed on the dark floor and both of their ankles, Ari finally asked the question that was bothering him for hours, "What are we going to do next?"

A week later, at 3 p.m., the marriage therapist was very pleased to see the couple from last week back here. Many people didn’t make it through a session, but that was a topic for another day.

"Have you made any progress in the last week?"

"Sure." The Levinsons smiled from the bottom of their hearts. Ari caught one of her hands and rubbed her ring finger. Anna gave him an annoyed look but didn't pull back. It was a good sign that they had communicated well in the previous week, as they did not resist physical contact. The therapist took notes in his notebook.

Ari's eyes unconsciously glued to her face: "We ... ahem, we communicated, and we both recognized our shortcomings in the marriage."

"And we are fixing the problems in the marriage," Anna added, leaning slightly in Ari's direction, but only a little. Anna straightened her face, but could not stop smiling, "Oh, and we redid the house."

The therapist listened very carefully to their answers and nodded approvingly, "That's going very well. Marriage is all about communication, constant improvement, and constant bonding. It's a long-term process."

Ari agreed: "I'm not going to lie, I still sometimes want to …" his eyes are glued to Anna again, swallowing the few words that could get them back into trouble, "but uh - couldn’t take the shot. "

"Me too."

They looked at each other and then grinned. Both were a bit smug.

The therapist cleared his throat to regain their attention, "Remember it's the two of you versus the problem, not you versus the other person. So how will you rate your current relationship?"

"Ask us that sex question again," Ari interjected, causing Anna to slap him on the back of the hand with a disapproving look. Ari just shrugged and intertwined their fingers. Anna shook her head as if dealing with a 5-year-old, considering Ari’s smug smile and his clinginess, it wasn’t a bad metaphor.

"Well, -"

He held her hand and raised his smile triumphantly, posing "1" and "0" with his fingers and mouthed: "Ten."

Notes: I wrote this in June to celebrate Chris Evans' birthday. And it took me five days to write this stuff, in English, no less, which is not my first language. No beta'd, so there's gonna be typos and grammar errors. But anyway. Always appreciate comments and feedbacks / reblogs!

#ari levinson #ari levinson x original female character #ari levinson smut #happy birthday chris evans

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