In the Eye of the Storm
by
Karen



Disclaimer: I just want Stanley, Logan, Leopold, Jack, Eddie or preferably the man who played them all - that's not asking too much is it?

Archive Rights: Just ask first, please.

Author's Notes: I really wanted to write a story where Stanley gets a little *action* that didn't involve a gun to his head, but didn't know where to insert such a scenario. Then Wolvies1 wrote that little encounter in the bathroom at the nightclub and I thought - hey, I could just expand on a scene, too and so this is the result.

{ } Stanley's thoughts {{ }} Catherine's thoughts




Stanley woke up with a pounding headache. He'd only had a few shots of tequila, including the one Helga had transferred into his mouth from hers and he could normally hold his liquor a lot better than that. He must've been really out of it last night, because he was still in his jeans and T-shirt and normally he slept in the nude, something he hadn't been able to do whilst a *guest* of the government. He sat up and ran his long fingers through his tussled hair and blinked the last vestiges of sleep away. Stumbling into the adjoining bathroom he first relieved his bladder and then brushed his teeth. He stepped out into the hall, but either everyone else was still asleep or had already left, so he decided to attempt to find the kitchen and get a cup of coffee and maybe, as his rumbling stomach suggested, rustle up something to eat.

A wonderful smell assaulted his senses, somebody was in the kitchen cooking - eggs and some type of meat from the delicious aroma. He followed the enticing smell into a high-tech looking kitchen and found a young blonde woman at the stove cooking scrambled eggs and sausages. His stomach suddenly made an audible growl loud enough to make her to turn around sharply at the sound. The sight that greeted her instantly made her panties dampen.

{{Holy mother of God, it's Adonis come to life.}}

"Oh, you startled me. I didn't think anyone in this house was gonna get up before the crack of noon," she said with a bright smile and hoped the heat searing her body wasn't too noticeable.

Stanley had his own reaction and actually caught his breath. He didn't recognize her as one of the contingent of women he'd seen last night at the club or later here at the house, because he definitely would've remembered her. She was petite and stunningly gorgeous. He noticed and appreciated the way the faded jeans she was poured into clung to her like a second skin and how the black low-cut cleavage-baring shirt clung even tighter. Despite all those dangerous curves she still had an air about her that was way too innocent to be one of Gabriel's stable of goodtime girls.

"I've always been an early riser," Stanley replied, but didn't bother to add that it was courtesy of prison life.

"I just made some coffee; help yourself. Would you like some eggs and sausages? I think I've made too much, the hazards of living in a sorority house, I'm used to cooking for twenty people," she told him, as she tried to focus on what was in the pan instead of being distracted by the most beautiful man she'd ever laid eyes on.

So, she was a college girl he thought greatly relieved. Well at least she wasn't jailbait, even if she looked it. Her golden blonde hair was pulled up into a loose knot with several strands escaping and she wore very little make-up, unlike the other women who floated around Gabriel. Stanley wondered what such an apparent innocent was doing swimming in shark-infested waters. He walked over to the coffeemaker and poured himself a mug, then leaned his muscular frame against the counter.

"Food sounds real good," he told her as he gave her the crooked little smile that never failed to make women melt.

She retrieved a couple of plates from the overhead cupboard and Stanley noticed how her shirt strained as she lifted her arms. She was also cold - maybe. She dished out the food, so Stanley went and sat down on one of the black leather and chrome stools at the curved black granite island breakfast bar.

"Hi, I'm Catherine and I'll be your waitress this morning," she said breezily as she placed the plate piled high with delicious looking food in front of him.

"Hi Catherine, I'm Stanley and I'll be your hungry customer," he replied with another heart-melting grin.

Catherine smiled back, revealing deep dimples in both cheeks.

Stanley's mouth watered, but he wasn't sure if it was the food or his *waitress* that was causing that reaction. A little of both, he decided. Catherine picked up her own mug of coffee and sat down on the stool to Stanley's right. Up close she smelled like apricots and Stanley had to fight the urge to lean over and lick the creamy smooth skin on her exposed neck. He realized how absorbed he was in watching her when he went to stab at a sausage link and missed.

"I didn't see you here last night," he said as he shoveled in a forkful of fluffy eggs.

"That's because I just arrived this morning," she replied and then added before he could ask, "from New York. I attend Columbia University."

Stanley threw her a curious look.

"Twenty-one, three months ago."

"Thirty-two, seven months ago."

Bright green eyes met smoky hazel ones and they both laughed.

"So, how do you know Gabriel?" Stanley asked curiously.

"I hardly know Gabriel at all," she replied, "My sister Helga's the one who's *friends* with him."

{Good, then she's not part of his stable. At least not yet.}

Have you met her?" Catherine asked.

{Oh boy, have I.} "We've been introduced," Stanley replied safely.

"She's great, isn't she?" Catherine asked innocently.

"Yeah, she's real friendly," Stanley answered as he tried to suppress the memory of Helga's talented mouth.

"So how do you know Mr. Mysterious?"

"I work for him," Stanley responded casually.

"Doesn't everyone? Helga told me the man doesn't have any actual friends."

That told Stanley that maybe Catherine did know the true nature of Gabriel and Helga's relationship, but he still wasn't about to ask for clarification or inquire how she was going to fit into this bizarre little scenario. He suddenly realized that he hoped she wasn't the latest plaything recruit.

"I'm not here to entertain the troops, if that's what you think," she said, as if she'd read his mind.

So, apparently she did understand the situation.

"My sister's the one with the loose reputation, not me," she added and nonchalantly took a sip of her coffee.

"Maybe Gabriel's hoping you'll relax while you're here," Stanley noted.

"Well, he can hope all he wants, but it won't do him any good," she replied and then changed the subject, "So what kind of work are you doing for Gabriel? You don't look like one of his typical goons."

"I'm doing some computer work," he replied vaguely.

"Computer genius, huh? I guess that means I can safely use words with more than one syllable when talking to you," she said with smile, which Stanley warmly returned.

"So what are you majoring in at Columbia?" Stanley asked.

"Early childhood education. I'm going to be a kindergarten teacher."

"You must really like kids," Stanley said, as an image of Holly flashed through his mind.

"I've had a lot of immature boyfriends, so I've had plenty of practice being around whining brats," she said with a chuckle.

"We're all just little boys at heart," Stanley said with a bemused grin.

"Yes, but I prefer men in my bed," she told him as she got up to refill her coffee mug and Stanley dropped his fork with a loud clatter.

Because she had her back to him, he didn't see the sly smile that spread across her face as she poured the coffee.

"Can I top you off?" she asked mischievously when she turned around again.

"Excuse me?"

"Your coffee. Can I top off your coffee?"

"Oh, yeah. My coffee. Sure," Stanley replied and held out his mug for her to refill.

They continued with their small talk as they cleaned up the breakfast dishes, then Catherine said she was going to try and find Helga and excused herself. Stanley found himself watching her as she walked out of the kitchen; the gentle sway of her small hips totally mesmerized him and made him hard. It had been far too long since he'd had real sex, the unfinished blowjob from the previous night didn't count. He thought back to the time that he'd had an orgasm that didn't involve a porno video and his own hand. It had been over six months ago; the woman had been some liquored up bimbo he'd picked up at a shit hole bar. When he woke up the next morning he'd discovered that she'd already left, but not before she'd cleaned out what little cash he'd had in his wallet. However, she had left him with a nasty case of crabs. The pickings in the backwater dump of Midland were slim at best and he was in no hurry to repeat his last experience with someone he wouldn't normally fuck with some other guy's dick.

And to be honest, if Helga hadn't made an uninvited dive at his crotch, he probably wouldn't have gone near her with a ten-foot pole either, because God only knows where she'd been. In fact none of the women he'd encountered so far had any impact on him, not even Ginger, who'd certainly given it her best shot with her tight dresses and 'fuck me ' looks she kept throwing at him. Even the kiss in the bathroom at the club, while a little heated, had failed to make him hard. Unlike a certain pert college co-ed he couldn't get out of his mind.

Stanley went searching for someone to ask about borrowing one of the many cars parked in the long driveway, because he intended to go see Holly, the court order be damned. He found Ginger out by the pool reading "A Brief History of Time" by Stephen Hawking. She placed the book in her lap to reveal that she'd apparently foregone wearing the top half of her bikini. Stanley asked about borrowing a car, got some grooming advice and, after bumping into a chair, quickly retreated back to the house. Ginger would've been sorely disappointed to know that even after she'd not so subtly flashed him, it was Catherine he was thinking about as he jerked off in the shower, not her.

Later that evening when Stanley was parked in front of the bank of computers prepared to work on Gabriel's little project, he was joined by a visitor. He couldn't suppress a grin when he saw Catherine standing in the doorway wearing a very short deep plum-colored silk kimono and holding a bottle of wine and two glasses.

"Come on in, I don't bite," Stanley told her playfully.

"Gee, that's too bad," Catherine replied suggestively and Stanley instantly went hard.

Catherine walked over to where Stanley was sitting, put down the two glasses and handed him the bottle of wine.

"Do you know anything about computers?" he asked as he pulled out the already loosened cork and poured the wine.

"I know how to find the Victoria's Secret website," Catherine answered and lifted one edge of the silk kimono to reveal a pair of plum colored lace panties.

"Well, long as you know the important stuff," Stanley replied with a naughty grin.

"What are you working on?" Catherine asked as Stanley handed her a glass, "Thanks."

"I'm creating a worm. "

"A what?" Catherine said, her forehead crinkling in puzzlement.

"A multiheaded worm, a hydra actually."

"And why do you need to do that?" Catherine asked as she dipped her finger into the wine and then brought it up to her mouth.

"It's necessary to sniff out digital footprints across an encrypted network," Stanley told her as he watched her suck on her finger.

"Digital footprints?"

"It's information that's encoded in order to protect it from unauthorized use," Stanley explained, finding it difficult to concentrate as she dipped her finger back into the wine.

"You mean like a password has those little stars?"

"Yeah, kinda. It's a bit more complicated than that, but that's the general idea," he said restraining himself from taking her finger and putting in his own mouth.

"Pretty fancy set up Gabriel's got here, but why do you need seven monitors?"

"So I can access seven networks simultaneously."

"Oh. But isn't that confusing?"

"Not for us geeks," Stanley replied with a smile.

"Oh, I'd hardly call you a geek," she said as her eyes roamed over him appreciatively.

"Well, isn't that what they call someone who's lacking in social skills, but can relate to inanimate objects?"

"Maybe you just haven't been around the right animated object yet," Catherine replied mischievously.

"Could be," Stanley answered as their eyes locked.

"Show me what you're working on," Catherine said as she perched herself on his knee.

Stanley had to loop his arm under hers and around her body in order to reach the keyboard, then she shifted back slightly so she was leaning against his shoulder. He took a deep breath and inhaled her scent as he leaned forward, tapped on the keyboard and the diagram for the worm appeared on the screen.

"It's basically like a puzzle," he explained, "I just have to connect all the pieces."

"And I take it that your average computer buff couldn't do this particular puzzle?"

"A 128 bit encryption is hard enough for your typical nerd. This is a 512 bit encryption, which takes an uber-nerd," Stanley said as he tried to concentrate on the screen and not think too much about the gorgeous creature balanced on his knee.

"Well, if the nerds at school looked anything like you I'd spend a lot more of my time studying," Catherine laughed as she moved so that she was now sitting in his lap instead of just perched on one knee.

Stanley punched a few more commands onto the keyboard and his arm brushed against the side of Catherine's right breast as he did, which made him even harder.

"Here, you type in a couple of commands," he told her.

He gave her some directions and her delicate fingers danced over the keyboard as he skimmed his now unoccupied hands lightly over her body. He gently cupped her breasts through the silky fabric and discovered she wasn't wearing a bra underneath the kimono. When his thumbs flicked over her nipples making them pebble instantly, Catherine stopped typing, leaned back against the solid wall of his chest and let out a soft sigh. Stanley buried his face in her neck, reached down, untied the sash of the kimono and slid his hands up to touch her now exposed breasts. Stanley and Catherine simultaneously let out a low moan at the contact. Stanley began giving licking kisses to Catherine's neck as one hand continued caressing her breasts, while the other hand snaked southward.

He slipped his hand under the lace of her panties and brushed the curls there. When Catherine spread her legs cooperatively, his fingers moved lower and lightly touched her clit. She was already wet and he slipped two fingers into her smoothly. Catherine turned her head toward him and he latched onto her succulent mouth, his tongue slipping inside as his fingers pumped in and out of her. With his thumb caressing her clit, it didn't take long for him to bring her to orgasm, swallowing her cry as she did.

Stanley removed his fingers, brought them up to his mouth and licked them clean as Catherine lay with her head resting against his collarbone. She stretched like a cat and gave a little wiggle, which had a caressing effect on his throbbing erection. Then she swung around so that she was now facing him and straddling his hips. She took his face in her hands and leaned forward to claim his begging-to-be-kissed lips. At first they gave each other feathery kisses, more like gentle caresses and then they nibbled on each other, which turned to small licks and finally they were exploring each other's mouths with slow, deep kisses.

When they finally surfaced for air, Stanley trailed a path of kisses down Catherine's throat, onto her chest bone and then his mouth wandered all over her breasts, but purposely avoided her nipples. When Catherine thrust her breasts upward invitingly Stanley took the hint and dragged his tongue teasingly slowly across one dusty rose tip before applying a gentle suction. He then lavished the same attention on her other nipple as Catherine moaned appreciatively. Deciding to return the favor, Catherine unbuttoned his dark blue shirt and spreading the fabric apart, pressed delicate kisses to the warm skin of his muscular chest. Noticing the tattoo that decorated his left shoulder, she traced the pattern with the tip of her tongue before returning her attention back to his spectacular chest. Now it was Stanley's turn to let out low appreciative moans of pleasure. After her mouth had done a thorough survey of his pecs, Catherine slid down, following the trail of dark hair down onto his washboard abs.

Once she was on the floor and now kneeling between his legs, she opened the button of his jeans and pulled down the zipper to reveal a pair of black briefs that barely contained what promised to be an impressive cock. Catherine peeled the briefs down and was not disappointed as Stanley's engorged cock was finally unveiled. She helped him wriggle out of the jeans and briefs, and then wrapping her hand around the thick shaft, she placed a kiss on the tip before swirling her tongue over it as Stanley let out a low-pitched groan. She then kissed and licked up and down the entire length before taking it into her mouth and sucking, first gently, and then with a little more force.

"Oh, fuck me, that feels so damn good," Stanley hissed as her tongue touched the slit.

When Catherine scrapped her teeth along his heated flesh, Stanley gave up what little control he had left and erupted in her mouth.

Catherine stood up and reaching for her wine glass she said, "God, Stanley you taste delicious - like cream, not salty at all."

"What about you?" Stanley asked as he reached out and peeled off her plum-colored lace panties, "Do you taste good?"

Catherine sat on the edge of the desk and spread her legs invitingly, so Stanley scooted the chair closer to the desk, leaned forward and licked her tantalizingly slowly.

"Oh my God, computers aren't your only talent," Catherine gasped as Stanley continued to lave at her and he didn't stop stroking her with his tongue even as the orgasm engulfed her.

Catherine was still vibrating as she climbed back onto his lap. She slid the silk kimono off her shoulders and dropped it onto the floor as Stanley shed his dark blue shirt so that they were now both completely naked. Stanley picked up his wineglass, took a long swallow and then pulled Catherine to him and captured her mouth for a deep kiss. She was pressed up against his chest tightly, the hair tickling her breasts, which made her nipples hard. When she wriggled on his lap she found that he'd recovered from the blowjob-induced orgasm and was once again rock hard.

"We need a bed, Stanley," she whispered huskily in his ear.

Stanley stood up with her in his arms, wrapped her legs around his waist and told her, "We're never gonna make it to a bed."

He then walked them over to the black leather couch and dropped them onto it.
Catherine was on her back and Stanley settled himself between her open legs. He positioned himself at her entrance and when she wrapped her legs around his hips and dug her heels into his butt, he plunged into her in one smooth thrust. Their mating was frantic and intense; the heat they generated warmed the cool leather. By the time they climaxed within mere moments of each other they were both covered by a fine sheen of sweat. Stanley then rolled them over so that Catherine was on top, lest he'd crush her with his weight. She lay stretched out on top of him, trembling from the force of her orgasm.

"You know, if the computer thing doesn't work out, you could always have a career in porn," Catherine suggested breathlessly.

Stanley let out a low laugh, "Let's go back to my room and rehearse the next *scene*."

"Hmmm, sounds like a plan," Catherine agreed.

When they finally made it to a bed they explored each other completely, touching and tasting each other all over. Their lovemaking was slow and sensual this time. Finally exhausted, they fell asleep wrapped around each other.

Over the next few days Stanley would work on the worm while Catherine would sit on the couch reading - just happy to be near each other. Of course the task could've been accomplished a lot quicker if Stanley hadn't kept taking breaks so he and Catherine could make love. Stanley had explained all about his past and was thrilled that Catherine wasn't bothered in the least. He also shared his plan for regaining custody of Holly and was delighted when Catherine fully supported the idea. Catherine in turn told him of her dream to one day go to Paris and blow liquid bubbles off of the top of the Eiffel Tower and Stanley promised her that as soon as his travel restriction was legally lifted, he'd take her there.

Stanley had fallen hard and fast -he was totally in love with everything about Catherine. He couldn't believe his turn around in luck - money, a real chance to get Holly back and now Catherine. He never wanted Catherine to see the dump he called home, even though he knew she'd never judge him because of it. Ginger had been right about his loser existence, Stanley realized that if the trailer burned to the ground tomorrow, there'd be nothing worth saving in it, except for Holly's baby pictures. If he didn't have to retrieve Scrappy from the boarding kennel, he'd never set foot in Midland ever again. If he couldn't work it out legally, he'd just take Catherine and Holly, buy them all new identities and go to a country that didn't have an extradition agreement with the United States. He was delighted when Catherine agreed to go with him.

The morning of the bank heist Gabriel revealed more of his plans to Stanley who was horrified and attempted to stop him by sabotaging some of the equipment. Stanley decided he had to get both Catherine and Holly away from this lunatic before something tragic happened. On the way over to Melissa's he called the house trying to reach Catherine to tell her to pack her stuff as they were leaving, although Stanley wasn't sure exactly where they'd go that Gabriel wouldn't be able to find them. Ominously there was no answer. Upon arriving at his ex-wife's Stanley found her and her husband had both been murdered, no doubt on Gabriel's orders. Holly's room showed signs of a struggle and Stanley's heart sunk as he realized where his daughter had likely been taken. He'd have to go to the bank and finish the job in order to negotiate Holly's release.

Holly wasn't the only person Stanley loved that had been unwillingly dragged into the dangerous situation at the bank. Stanley arrived just in time to watch Jacob start to lead a bound-at-the-wrists, wrapped in explosives and terrified Catherine toward the front doors.

"Ah, Stan, so nice that you've decided to rejoin us," Gabriel said with a wicked smile.

"Where are you taking her?" Stanley demanded as he stepped between Jacob and Catherine and the front entrance.

"Relax. We'll be right back," Jacob snapped.

"Gabriel, please don't do this. Not Catherine," Stanley pleaded.

"Stan, nothing will happen to her. We just wanna make sure they know we're not fucking around," Gabriel replied then instructed, "Take her out."

"It's gonna be okay, you'll be back before you know it," Stanley told Catherine, hoping she wouldn't notice the raw fear in his voice.

"I'm scared," Catherine whimpered.

"Just do what Jacob tells you and everything will be okay," Stanley said.

Catherine closed her eyes for a brief moment, the tears rolling down her cheeks.

"Hey, just think about Paris, and that I love you," Stanley said as he leaned down and kissed her gently.

Jacob led her outside as Gabriel used his cell phone to place a call.

"Don't talk; just listen. Each of the twenty-two hostages has been wrapped with 20lbs of C4 explosives. They've also been taped with 15lbs of stainless steel ball bearings, which make them the largest walking Claymore mines. Around their necks are radio frequency electronic dog collars. Dog walks out of the yard, gets the shit shocked out of them - same thing here. This bank is their yard; so don't fuck with me."

A few moments later a sharpshooter that was positioned on the roof of the building across the street shot Jacob and Catherine bolted back towards the entrance of the bank.

"Go get her," Gabriel instructed one of his men.

Suddenly Catherine was grabbed by two police officers. She struggled valiantly and screamed as they tried to drag her off to what they thought was safety.

"No! Let her go, let her go," Stanley yelled futilely.

"Take cover," Gabriel shouted.

And then everything went to hell.

* * *


Paris, one year later:

Stanley and Holly stood on the top observation deck of the Eiffel Tower, plastic bottles of soapy liquid in their hands.

"This is for you, Catherine," Stanley said as he blew through the little plastic wand and the bubbles floated into the spring air.



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