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Beauty of the Blistering Sky	By : UltraVioletSoul Category: +S through Z > Splinter Cell Views: 1828 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Tom Clancy's Splinter Cell or its characters. Neither do I own the song "Bullets" by Archive. No copyright infringement intended. I am just trying to provide entertainment, and by no means do I have lucrative purposes.

Chapter List
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Chapter I
Never in his life had he imagined he would end up in this situation.

If he were to be honest, Sam Fisher had never wanted to be romantically involved with women since his line of work required for him to be in a clear and completely focused state of mind; to be utterly and totally devoted to the service and protection of his country and, lastly but not least, to avoid the same disheartening and painful experiences he had gone through while married to his late ex-wife, Regan. This stormy relationship with her had marked him with guilt, and her ghost haunted him every single day and night. To this day, the now mature man never knew if Regan forgave him, in the end, before that goddamned cancer took her away; and he never knew if she truly hated and despised him for all the times he put her in second place.

The veteran Splinter Cell had never thought he would end up in this mess with you, a young woman who could easily be friends with his sweet only daughter, Sarah. Or should he say a sweet young little thing who could easily be his daughter? The thought alone had terrified him– well, not exactly that but had brought some discomfort and concern, at first, and that would be just a saying. However, what he could possibly do against the circumstances that had put him in this awkward position as he tried to accept that, much to his surprise, there was something in you that attracted him– despite the futile reminders of Sam’s superego that screamed at him to stay the hell away from you or to keep the interaction between you to a minimum.

But he was the one to blame in this one. He should have never looked for you, to begin with. He had never done such a thing with anyone before, and it was bordering the ridiculous. Why did he come to you, the last person in the world he would want to be embroiled with? Why did he have to complicate his life for the sake of doing it? This was not like him, in the slightest. He would never do something like this. And what could a girl like you possibly see in a much older man like him, anyways? It was not that he was feeling old already– if anything, the adrenaline of his job kept him young– but, if he did the Math in his head, there still was a big difference in numbers and, again, the idea that you could be his daughter made him a little restless. There was no helping it, however, but he was in his late forties and you were yet to reach your mid-twenties! The abysmal gap between you two was too much and he much doubted that he could be capable of fulfilling your simplistic dreams such as marrying and starting a family of your own.

He had never planned for this to turn out this way, but he guessed sometimes you could not avoid the quirks of fate. Damn. Fate was a bitch; that was right. Now that he thought about it, he just should have carried on with his orders and get the assignment done– get in and get out, like a ghost. But his scrupulous ways had almost hindered his mission, and the consequence of his actions was here, straddling him against the bed, a hazed look in her eyes and a small smile on her lips.

His heart raced; his throat went dry and, suddenly, the bedroom felt too hot for his comfort.

Sam wanted to flee from your lovely youth and its wonderful scent of new world. He wanted to get away from the delightful feeling of your feminine soft body against him– from the threat you would become to him if he were to make you his. But he was in a difficult position, as your fingers drew closer to caress his nape and his graying hair, and he wondered why you could not have been be a little less appealing to him. It was true he had been celibate for some time now, but he was no saint and there was only so much persuasion he could unfeelingly stand. He was a man– one who was full of sins– and his body had needs, too. How could he resist the temptation when you were this close to break him, and make him admit he wanted to make you scream in pleasure till the sun rose and you were spent? How could he do such a thing when he barely could hide the fact he had been wanting for this to happen, for a long time?

It had been this moment the one he had longed yet dreaded the most, ever since he started to see you as the woman that plagued his nights with impossible dreams that gave him a hard time– in more ways than one. Why could he not get you out of his head? What was it so special about you? He did not understand. There had been a bunch of other more attractive women– not that you were not; however, your beauty was not the killer type but more of an innocent one– that he had turned down without a second thought, and yet here he was, defeated and overpowered by you.

It was like in the novels Sarah used to read, right? Person X promises to never fall in love again, and person Y proves X wrong. Only in this case he would not be as drastic as to say he was in love with you, much any less that he loved you– he was not that type of man anymore. It was only a matter of craving badly what he had lost a long time ago; of yearning the warmness in your eyes whenever you stared at him– the same one he had not seen in so many years on end, after his Regan lost faith in him. Sam would be lying if he said he never felt anything for the beautiful NSA cryptanalyst outside the burning passion they had shared under the covers– from which Sarah was born. He truly had loved her, and for this reason he took her as his wife. But times had been hard and, with the Soviet threat still present, his duty in the West, Middle East and the Soviet satellites had come first.

How had this come down to this? Sam wondered once and again. How did you end up in his arms, smiling like a cat, as your hands roamed all over his body, he did not know. What he did know was that he should have pushed you away when your lips crashed against his; knew that he should have stopped this madness when he still had the chance. He did not want to be vulnerable, did not see the need to. His life was difficult as it was, and the prospect of a relationship sprouting between the two of you did not seem like a good idea– was not a good idea.

He still gave in.

Sam did not know why but, as your lips moved against his, his mind went back to the night he met you during one of his assignments in East Europe, where a lead on an organization smuggling weapons had been discovered by Third Echelon. Actually, it had been more like he had saved your butt from big trouble as you had found yourself to be a victim of a severe case of 'being at the wrong time, the wrong place'. At first, he had contemplated the possibility of leaving you to fend for yourself as he had a mission to accomplish and the men just looked like they wanted to have fun with you. It was the perfect diversion, Sam thought. It would make things much easier for him if the guards were entertained for at least thirty minutes with you. That was all the time he needed to gather the intel or, as others put it, 'do what he had to do'.

But, as he began to turn away from the window of the room you were imprisoned in, you screamed with such despair that he could not help but wonder what if his daughter had been in your place instead? He knew he should have known better than this but, before he could give it a second thought, he had already drawn his Five-SeveN from its holster and aimed it at the monster before you. In less than one second the felon’s body had collapsed, followed by two more and, then, a pool of blood menacingly grew by your feet, threatening to swallow you in a crimson nightmare of tortures and howls.

He had not intended for this mission to be wet. He was supposed to get in and get out, like a ghost, but the circumstances had left Sam no choice on the matter. Actually, there had been options but he was not sure whether he could live with the weight of your death on his shoulders knowing that he could have done something about it.

And so did this madness start…

With violence and a gun in his hand.
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Beauty of the Blistering Sky