The Russian Dancer

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Because I literally just referenced it and people wanted to know what it was and again you control me. Obviously. ๐Ÿ™„

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"You can't do this," Carter said. "Don't go."

The vehemence in Carter's voice almost made Donovan rethink his decision but he couldn't. This was what he had to do.

"Carter, you know that I don't have a choice," he said, voice soothing, trying to still her emotions.

"You do. You can say no. You don't have to do this."

"Actually, he does," Mason said.

Carter spun to where Mason was sitting at the panel of computers and Donovan knew she had found someone to snap at.

"Shut up, Mason!"

Mason waved his hands, pretending to be scared and went back to typing away at the keyboard. Carter pressed her fingers into her temples and Donovan hated how she disliked what he had to do. He wasn't a fan either but there were somethings you couldn't say no to.

"Why does it have to be you?" she said. "Why can't anyone else go instead?"

Donovan laid his hands on her arms. "You know why. I know Russian."

Frustrated, Carter flung his hands off her. "And no one else in the FBI knows Russian?"

Mason snorted. "Sure, you want Harvey from analysis trying to seduce a hot Russian?"

Carter curled her fingers and Donovan raised his hands. "She's not that hot."

"Oh, yes she is," Mason said. "I saw her profile." He whistled appreciatively. "I love a good beach selfie."

"Mason shut up before I strangle you with that computer cable," Carter snapped.

Finally, Mason swiveled around in his chair. "You know Carter you really need to get a better threat. Last week it was 'Mason shut up or I'll strangle you with that necktie', 'that phone cord', 'my bare hands'. I'm just not feeling it anymore."

When Carter's face cleared, Donovan knew Mason was in for it. Carter even smiled a little at him. "Mason, shut up or I'll shoot you in the leg."

Unperturbed, Mason pointed at her. "See now that's creative and terrifying. Did it really take that much effort?"

Growling in irritation, Carter palmed her eyes. "Seriously, no one else can do this?"

"No," Donovan said.

"He's pretty much identical to every guy she's dated in the past," Mason said.

As if to prove his point and further anger Carter, he brought up images of Karina's previous boyfriends. All of them were well built with bronze skin and dark hair like Donovan. Once the Bureau had seen that and known that Donovan spoke Russian there was no way out of the situation.

Carter peered up at Donovan, all her annoyance replaced with resignation. "Why did you have to learn Russian?"

"I was bored the summer of Link's freshman year."

"Why Russian?"

"Because I already knew French and Spanish and Link's mom planned for us to spend a week in Moscow over break."

Sighing, Carter shook her head. "I would be mad at you if it wasn't so attractive. Okay." She adjusted his bowtie and pressed her hands down his lapels. "At least this time I get to be the server and can avoid the revealing dress."

Donovan kissed her, hovering just a breath away. "I think you looked beautiful."

"Because you could see most of me."

"No, because you efficiently disabled men in that dress."

Carter kissed him again and stepped back. "Okay, I'll have your back."

Taking the offered earbud from Mason, she put it in and left the cramped hotel room. When the door closed, Mason looked to Donovan, his face free of any amusement.

"Is she going to be okay?" he asked. "Because you understand you are here to plant a bug and doing that by seducing another woman. We can't have Carter knifing her at the end of this."

Donovan stared at the closed door. "Carter will do her job."

"Will you?"

Donovan nodded even as his stomach twisted at what he had to do. "Of course."

"Alright then. Here you go."

Donovan tucked the small earbud into his ear.

"Your car is waiting outside," Mason said.

As Donovan reached for the door, Mason spoke again. "Go get 'em tiger."

"Mason, don't tell my husband to go get 'em," Carter said in Donovan's ear.

Smiling, Donovan left. The car ride was brief but by the time it pulled through the wrought iron gates and curved before a lavish house, Donovan had flipped to Russian in his head. The door was opened for him and he climbed out, keeping his expression blank.

At the front oak doors a man searched him before allowing him entry. The place was opulent as could be expected of a millionaire mobster. Donovan half expected to see people walking around fanning themselves with stacks of hundred dollar bills.

"Your target is in the ballroom," Carter said.

Donovan made his way through the knots of well-dressed men and women to the ballroom which didn't lack for splendor. Music swirled through the room, guiding the couples that danced at the center. At the bar, he ordered a drink and lounged against the gleaming mahogany.

As he sipped his drink, he eyed the woman standing amid a circle of men. Karina Volkov. There was no denying she was stunning. She had flawless skin, luscious hair and a body molded to perfection by money. She was the dream of millions of men.

Expect for Donovan, whose dream woman was the hostile server in an unflattering white shirt and slacks.

Donovan watched Karina, noticing as she played each man off each other, flattering some with her attention while ignoring others to make them work harder. She was a woman in command and wouldn't be commanded by anyone. Donovan allowed himself a tiny smile, knowing what to do.

As if sensing his gaze, Karina locked eyes with him. Donovan held her gaze, not reacting in the least but not letting her go either. Where his attention said he was interested, his lack of response to her seeing him said he didn't care. At the flush in Karina's cheeks, Donovan knew he had won and looked away as if he had never been looking at all.

"Donovan," Mason said. "I know that you enjoy lounging around and looking like an Armani model but some of us have lives we want to return to."

"Mason," Carter said, "a cat and a remote don't make a life."

"Like I would own a cat. There can only be one narcissist in my life and that's the girl I bring home."

"And it's no wonder that you've never found The One."

"The One is me. I don't see how anyone else factors into this?"

"Focus," Donovan whispered, using his glass to hid his lips.

Whether that would be the end of the discussion was unknown but at least they both stopped talking for the time being. Setting down his drink, Donovan strode over to the circle of men around Karina. He gripped two of the men's arms and yanked them aside, making his entrance.

"Karina," he said, his Russian accent made flawless from a month of work. "Dance with me."

He didn't make it a question. Didn't even make it a statement. He made it a command as if something bad would happen if she didn't.

Despite the way in which she had acted among her throng of admirers, always in control, she smiled and offered her hand. Donovan drew her onto the dance floor and pulled her close, with more force than was necessary but got a spark of interest from Karina. When they tango started, Donovan lead her around the floor with a mix of control and fluidity that had taken him far too long to learn.

But nights spent dancing about the apartment with Carter had been worth it.

Right then though, he shoved the thoughts away. He could not have Carter in his mind as he did this, he needed to be fully lost in the moment with Karina.

As the song drew to a close, Donovan dipped Karina, bringing his face inches from hers, their breath tangling. Her deep chocolate eyes stared back into his, as if waiting for him to act, to take the plunge into something more.

Giving her a devilish smile, Donovan righted them and stepped away so quickly it left Karina dizzy.

"Thank you for the dance," he said, and walked away.

He didn't need to look back to know that she was watching him, willing him to come back, turn around, but he didn't. Instead, he left the ballroom, knowing she would see where he went. She would follow.

"Look at you Fred Astaire," Mason said.

"Mason you uncultured swine," Carter said. "Fred Astaire didn't tango, he waltzed and tap danced."

With the harsh reply, Donovan knew that Carter had been watching the entire dance. He could feel his want to reassure her, but knew if he was going to get through this night that he needed to box away his emotions. Still, it was hard to do so when she approached him with a tray of champagne flutes. Her eyes were bright even as her demeanor was reserved.

"Drink?" she asked.

When Donovan waved her off, Carter slipped past him, sliding the bug into the pocket of his slacks as she went. Donovan cut towards a back hallway, knowing that the study they needed access to was at the very end. Tucking his hands into his pockets, he made a slow procession, pretending to admire the art work along the walls.

When he was halfway down the hall, he heard the sound of high heels coming closer. He let himself feel a moment of relief, knowing he had played the situation correct.

"Are you an admirer of art?" Karina said behind him.

Donovan didn't face her, knowing this would only make her want him more.

"I am an admirer, but of what changes daily," he said.

Karina moved closed, her shoulder brushing Donovan's back as she passed behind him.

"And what is it you admire today?"

Coming to his side, she lifted her eyes up to him.

"I don't believe I've found it yet," he said.

She titled her head. "No?"

"But I think I'm getting close."

The edge of Karina's mouth curled and Donovan knew it was the time. There was no other way around it. It had to be done, no matter that Carter held his heart.

Turning off his thoughts, he crashed his mouth against Karina's, stealing the breath from her lungs.

As Karina dug her fingers in Donovan's hair, Donovan committed, burying all his emotions under of a cloud of determination. To any on lookers they would see a pair caught up in nothing but themselves. Very few would notice how Donovan guided Karina down the hall, and into the study. None would notice him planting the bug, too distracted by the beautiful couple.

When the door to the study opened once again, Donovan broke away, while Karina tried to catch her breath. Standing in the doorframe was a beefy looking man, frowning.

"Karina, you know this is off limits," the man said.

Karina blinked as if realizing where they were. The guard narrowed his eyes at Donovan.

"It is time for you to leave," he said. "Come."

Donovan adjusted his suit jacket and nodded. "Of course."

With a wink at Karina, Donovan followed the guard out of the house. In the car, he let out a breath.

"We got it," he said.

"Mission accomplished," Mason said. "We can all go home."

Donovan rested his head back on the headset, pinching his eyes, willing himself to forget that last few minutes. At the hotel, he dropped off his earbud and typed up his report, waiting for Carter to get back. When she didn't, he questioned Mason about it.

"She said she was going to finish her shift so that it didn't look suspicious you leaving and her disappearing."

Donovan nodded, but felt a tinge of unease. At their apartment, he showered and sank onto the couch to wait, hating how his mind held to the night and all that he had done.

It was hours later when the door opened and Carter walked in. She didn't look at Donovan as she placed her keys in the bowl and shut the door.

"Everything end well?" he asked.

"Yeah. We're both in the clear."

Still, she didn't look at him and Donovan felt a knife stab at his chest. He crossed to her as she pulled off her shoes.

"I'm sorry," he said.

She shook her head. "There is nothing to be sorry about. It's part of the job. I know that. It's fine. You have a pretty face. I knew that when I married you. I should have foreseen this happening."

There was a sadness to her voice that made Donovan ache and reach for her, but she moved away.

"I'm going to go shower off. Don't wait up," she said.

"Carter, don't walk away," he said, reaching for her arm. "I don't want to go to sleep knowing that the last person I held and kissed wasn't you."

She tensed but when Donovan tugged her back to him, she went willingly into his arms. He buried his face in her hair. For a long moment, he held her, silently reminding her that he was hers and hers alone.

"Do you really think I have a pretty face?" he asked.

When he felt Carter shaking with laughter, he knew they were going to be okay. She tilted her head back, looking at him.

"It's so pretty I almost didn't marry you because I didn't know if I could stand women always falling in love with you."

"Then why did you agree to marry me?" he asked.

She ran her hand through his hair and he smiled at the familiarity of it.

"Because I had already fallen in love with the brain behind it. One that so many women wouldn't fully appreciate. The one that Karina will never know."

"No, she won't. That is why she doesn't get me, but you do."

Carter grinned and pulled his mouth close to hers. "Lucky me."

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Look out down below!!

(What's coming? What's below? Why should you look out? I feel like this threat is vague but somehow menacing in its vagueness)

Tells all! Tells me! Tells your thoughts! Tells a tree! (I wanted it to rhyme okay?) But seriously what did you think? ๐Ÿ—ฏ๐Ÿ’ฌ๐Ÿ’ญ๐Ÿ’ƒ๐Ÿป

So this one shot really was entirely because of you. In the Winter Formal chapter Carter makes a comment about a Russian dancer and so many of you said Joy! We need to know about this! And like The slave that I am, I wrote it for you.

I hope it was all that you wanted, if not I apologize. I've written so freaking many of these that sometimes some are a little lackluster and for that I'm sorry.

If you so desire to to do vote, comment, follow!

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