For kristen_mara: Billy & Beer don't mix...
Disclaimer: The characters of Billy Collins, Michael Dorset, Casey Malick, Rick Martinez, HJ Higgins, Adele Ferrer, and Fay Carson are not mine and are the property of Chaos, Rat Productions, 20th Century Fox and CBS Television. This is speculative and fan fiction for the purposes of entertainment of Live Journal members only, and I am not receiving any compensation or consideration for this work. All plot situations and additional characters are mine and purely fictional; any resemblance to any real person, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Word Count: 2983
Rating: G (for 8-year-old level humor), PG-13 for intimate scene
Summary: Billy discovers something about himself: the cool taste of beer in a warm climate is not necessarily a good combination with his digestive tract.
Author’s Note: Belated birthday fic for kristen_mara !
Michael dropped his duffel bag and stared in shock at the room with two bunk beds on opposite walls. “BILLY!” Casey shouted in exasperation, “WHAT THE HELL????” “What is it, lads?” Billy cheerfully asked as he entered the room, “Isn’t it grand? Just like my university days…exploring Europe…”
Rick looked at Billy, “Uh…Billy….it’s a hostel…not a hotel.” “Yeah…I know! Just like the European hostels my mates and I visited when we toured Europe between terms!” Billy exclaimed, as he gestured around the room, “Look! Bunk beds!” Billy tested the mattress of a top bed on one bunk, “Wee bit small for me, but I’ll need a top bunk so my feet can at least hang over…”
Michael rolled his eyes, as Casey grabbed Billy’s collar and said, “Do you see any pimply teenagers in this room? NO! I see four men! Well, at least, three…one doesn’t seem to have grown up! This is a mission…not a return to your wayward, fantasy-filled youth, you Scottish…”
“ENOUGH!” Michael yelled. Turning to Billy, his voice changing to a calmer tone, he asked, “Billy? Was this the best you could do? I thought we were staying at the hotel?” Billy grinned, “First accommodations that came up for Kupang, and it was inexpensive. Near the beach…well-known…advertised all over the place…local flavor…excellent potential for party life…what more could you want?” Casey growled, “A place suitable for running a mission.” Billy clapped Casey’s back hard, “Exactly! Look around you! What self-respecting spies would hang out in a hostel? We look like four former college mates recapturing their glorious youth in a nice, sunny clime! You couldn’t create a better cover!”
Rick sighed and tossed his duffel bag on a lower bunk, “Casey, you take the top bunk here. I don’t feel safe sleeping underneath Billy’s bunk.” Casey chuckled as he tossed his duffel bag on the bunk above Rick, “Afraid he’ll roll off and crush you?” Rick grinned as he sat on the lower bunk, “No, it’s Billy and…um…well…how he processes his beer.” Billy looked hurt and said, “I’m a gentleman…I don’t burp like some crass Americans I know.” Michael and Casey stifled laughter and looked at Rick with grins on their faces. Rick blushed, “Uh…forget I said anything.”
Casey teased, “No, you don’t get off that easy, Rick. Finish it.” Billy crossed his arms defiantly and said, “Yeah…finish it.” Rick looked at Billy with a set jaw, “Beer farts…in your sleep. It’s suffocating.” Michael laughed and tossed his duffel bag on the top bunk in the other bed, “Yeah, Billy. You’re sleeping on the bottom bunk. Let’s keep your…uh…uh…” “Bodily gasses,” Casey finished. “Yeah…near the floor,” Michael added. Grumbling to himself, Billy muttered, “A Scotsman never releases his beer except to the urinal…damn…my feet…” Billy stretched out on the lower bunk and shifted around, “Michael, I can’t sleep like this…my feet hit the floor…can’t get comfortable…” Michael looked at Billy sternly, “Bed assignments done, Billy. Live with it.”
Billy sighed and sat up, looking thoroughly miserable with his knees touching his chin, “It’s too small for me, Michael.” Michael grinned, “File your complaint with our travel agent.” Billy sighed and stood, leaving the room in a huff. Rick watched Billy’s back as the tall Scotsman disappeared down the hall, saying, “Maybe we pushed him a little too far?” Casey shook his head, “He’ll get over it. Poetic justice in a way; he made the travel arrangements.” Michael began unpacking his gear and said, “Whether he’s here or not, let’s get to work.”
Billy left the hostel with a grin on his face as he put on his sunglasses. As he turned the corner for the nearby hotel, he thought that everything had gone as planned with only a couple of minor exceptions: Rick’s comments about what happened during his sleep and the assignment of the lower bunk. He didn’t plan on spending his nights in the hostel anyway; so, maybe enduring the embarrassment from Rick was worth it. He cut through the back of the hotel property to the pool, stopped at the pool bar, purchased two beers, and headed for the beach.
He stood on the sand behind the sunbathers, searching the beach for a specific sign. With a broad grin on his face, he strode over to a beach umbrella with a wood carved horse sitting next to it. Ducking under the beach umbrella, he handed one bottled beer to the attractive blonde stretched out underneath, asking, “How long have we got?” The young lady grinned as she lifted her sunglasses, and said, “As long as you’re here…at least, so far.” Billy kicked off his shoes and removed his socks, stretching out alongside her, and took a sip of beer. Then, he leaned over and kissed her, “Honey, I’ve really missed you.”
Colt sipped her beer, firmly put her hand behind Billy’s head, and pulled him in for a passionate kiss. “Missed you, too, sweetheart. Like me as a blonde?” she asked. He studied her for a moment while he caught his breath and grinned, “Makes you look different somehow…not as fiery…more sultry.” She grinned, “Which you’re expecting in bed tonight, I gather.” She slipped him a room keycard, “I’m in the penthouse suite. Cover is a photo shoot for a major magazine…beachwear. Mav and Cheetah are posing as the photographers. Terrier’s posing as the designer…thoroughly enjoying playing the fey haute couture Paris designer. They’ll be watching our backs and your team. If you get in trouble, they’re in rooms on the floor below mine…900 and 901.” “Your stage name?” Billy asked with a teasing grin. She smiled and assumed a French accent, “Monique….right off the Paris runway to the semi-wild beautiful beaches of Kupang, Timor for the summer issue of a prominent Paris fashion magazine.”
Billy sighed as he lay back, “This is just a quick contact and pick-up mission. Problem is going to be finding the cell we’re supposed to get intel on.” Colt nodded, “Yeah, not too many Islamists here, and they keep to themselves.” She reached into her beach bag and handed him a small packet, saying, “Here’s what we got so far…surveillance photos and videos, some background on the ones we identified, audio at some of their meetings…and most important, the location of the target you’re to get.” Billy checked the packet and saw a flash drive in it. He pocketed the packet and asked, “How’s it going with your mission?”
She sighed and took another sip of beer, “Not as fast as I would like. Mav, Cheetah, and Terrier were almost made…pulled them out, and we’re waiting on the cover and paperwork for their new assignments. We heard that there’s a Russian mafia lieutenant taking a vacation here…so we put him under surveillance. So, far, it appears to be just that…a vacation…no contact or business.” Billy sighed, “Colt…” She kissed him, “I know, sweetheart. Just hang on…we’ll get this finished and return home.” They silently watched the surf for a few minutes, sipping their beers, and Colt asked, “Where are you and the team staying, honey?” Billy grinned, “The hostel around the corner. As far as they’re concerned, I’m peeved at them for not getting a top bunk and disappeared to cool off.”
She smiled, “Good excuse to spend your nights elsewhere.” Billy rolled over to lean over her and kissed her, “Exactly.” They cuddled and kissed until the sun moved low over the western horizon. Colt stroked his cheek, saying, “Hate to say it, love…but you need to get back. We can meet later tonight.” Billy nodded, “Yeah…I guess I should’ve cooled off by now. And Michael will probably have some work to do.” Colt grinned, “Just let yourself in.” Billy kissed her and grinned, “Soon as I can, honey. Love you.”
Billy walked back to the hostel and entered the room. Michael looked at him, saying, “About time! Where were you?” Billy shrugged, “Strolling the beach…checking out the local assets.” He reached into his shirt pocket and tossed Michael the packet, “Found this…info on our friends.” Michael looked at him warily as he plugged the flash drive into his laptop. The four men spent the next half hour reviewing the data on the flash drive. When they finished, Michael leaned back, running his hands through his hair, “Where did you get this….and from whom?” Billy shrugged, “Friends in high places.” Casey stared hard at Billy, “Who’s your contact, Billy? You take a walk and return with everything we need to grab the guy. That’s a bit too convenient.” Billy grinned, “A good spy has contacts…contacts that need the protection of anonymity. The information’s reliable.” Michael looked at Casey and Rick, who both shrugged at him. “OK, Billy. We’ll check this out tonight…if our target is there, we’ll grab him and carry out the mission,” Michael said.
Billy grinned, “We’re scheduled here for a couple more days…think we can get a little vacation out of it?” Michael smiled, “If this intel is accurate…and if we get the target…I don’t see why not. But that doesn’t change the bunk assignments.” Billy shrugged. That night, the team slipped into the Islamist quarter of the city and proceeded to the location noted in the files Billy had brought them. Michael, Casey, and Rick looked at Billy in surprise when they spotted their target entering the local coffee and smoke bar. As they prepared to get into position to grab the target after he left the establishment, Billy heard someone talking in Russian and grabbed his teammates, signaling them to wait.
They watched as two men, conversing in Russian, entered the business and settled in chairs at the same outdoor table their target occupied. Billy slipped silently away and took a position closer to the table. Quietly, he snapped a few pictures and turned on his phone’s recorder to get their conversation. When it appeared the men were finishing their conversation, Billy returned to the team in time to hear Michael whisper, “What the Hell? Where’s…” “Here, Michael,” he whispered. Michael looked at him, “Where…” Billy whispered urgently, “Michael…I think the Russians are arms dealers…one looks a bit familiar from…well…past work. We need to grab the target tonight.”
“You think they’re making a deal,” Michael said. Billy nodded. Michael issued orders to position the team around the target to grab him when he was alone. They followed the target for a few blocks until the Russians veered off to the main road. Casey, the closest, quickly leapt at him and wrestled him to the ground, while Rick jabbed a hypodermic in the man’s shoulder and injected a strong sedative. When the man was limp, Michael called for a car, and as they loaded the target in the back seat, said to the driver, “Get him to the airfield now…jet’s waiting to take him to Langley.”
By the time they returned to the hostel, Michael had received confirmation that the target was on his way to CIA headquarters. Michael stretched and yawned, “Long day. I’m turning in.” Casey and Rick began changing for bed, and Billy stood still, looking at the lower bunk. Michael settled in the upper bunk, “Still sulking?” Billy shrugged, “I’m not tired…there’s a party somewhere.” He left the room as Michael sighed and shook his head. Casey grinned, “Don’t worry, Michael. He’ll find the sand and night critters pretty uncomfortable after a while. He’ll be back.” “Hopefully, with his beer farts fully released,” Rick said.
Billy slid the card in the slot for the penthouse elevator, boarded, and rode to the penthouse, anxious to get to Colt. She smiled when she opened the door to his knock and ushered him into the suite, arms wrapped around his neck, passionately kissing him. Billy responded with the same urgency and then, suddenly stopped. “Honey? I’ve got something for you,” he said. Colt looked at him, puzzled. He handed her his phone, “Two Russians met our target tonight…I think you need this.” She plugged the phone into her laptop and downloaded the pictures and recording and then watched the playback. She grinned at him, “Exactly what we need, honey! Now…for the real business at hand…” She logged off, stood, and put her arms around him.
She gave him a long, lingering kiss and began undressing him, slowly and carefully exciting him as she licked and kissed his favorite spots. Billy gasped as she pushed him on the bed and began suckling his nipples and teasing his penis to an erection with her sucking and kisses. Billy gripped the sheets tightly as she managed his pleasure, trying to contain his release for as long as possible. Finally, with a small cry, he grabbed her and pushed her on her back, mounting her. Unable to hold himself back any longer, he entered her and began driving toward their climax. Before long he was rewarded with her small cries as she approached her orgasm, and together they climaxed as he released his manhood in her. Billy lay limply on Colt as she caressed his back, enjoying her closeness which he had deeply missed for the past few months.
Billy fell asleep quickly, and just as she was falling asleep, she started at a noise and got a glimpse of the sheet over Billy’s back lifting slightly. She buried her face in Billy’s shoulder, her body vibrating with silent giggles for a few minutes. As she fell asleep, she smiled, thinking, it’s good to have a fully normal Billy back in her bed…night farts and all.
The next morning as they were dressing after their shower, Billy looked at her and asked, “Um…Colt?” She smiled, “Yes, honey?” Billy hesitated and then asked awkwardly, “Uh…do I…uh…well…do I…you know…break wind in my sleep?” Colt paused in applying her mascara, checking his reflection in the mirror, and choosing her words carefully. Suddenly, she started giggling, unable to contain her laughter. Billy blushed a deep red, as she caught her breath and said, “Well, yes, honey, you do.” Billy silently stared at the wall, clearly embarrassed and uncomfortable. She walked over to him, putting her arms around his neck, “Honey, most people do when they’re asleep. It’s normal. I know I do right before I’m fully awake sometimes.”
Billy sighed, “Um…does it…um…well…you know…um…” Colt looked at him with some concern on her face, “What, honey?” He shifted uncomfortably and blushed, “Well…you know…does it…um…I don’t know…smell?” Colt forced back another attack of the giggles, and said, “Honey…I haven’t noticed. Besides, I like the way you smell…your scent. What’s brought this on?” Billy silently looked at her, and she said, “Billy? We’ve been together a long time…you know…intimate in every way. Never has concerned me…it’s part of what I love about you. Why are you worried about this all of a sudden?”
Billy blushed, “Uh…well…the guys made a big deal out of my so-called beer farts…and…” Colt kissed him, “Then, let’s get revenge on them. To maintain our cover, we really are doing a photo shoot on the beach and at a café near the hostel. Wouldn’t it be really sweet for them to see you with an attractive Paris model on your arm?” Billy grinned and nodded.
As Colt, Terrier, Mav, and Cheetah played their roles doing a professional photo shoot, Billy kept an eye out for his teammates, and just as they were finishing up at the café, Michael, Casey, and Rick walked by to see what was going on and stopped, gaping at Billy as Colt donned a robe over her swimsuit and slipped her arm through Billy’s arm. Seeing them out of the corner of her eye, she kissed Billy passionately on the lips.
Late the following afternoon, Billy returned to the hostel after seeing Colt off at the airport and watched his teammates pack for the ride home. Silently, they kept glancing at him surreptitiously, and Billy grinned at them. Casey stopped his packing and faced Billy, “OK….how did you do it?” Billy clasped his hands behind his head and leaned back, “Do what?” Rick faced him, “Spend two days and nights with a beautiful French model. With those beer farts of yours…I’m surprised she didn’t age twenty years.” Billy grinned, “She thought they were the sweetest scent she’d ever experienced, finer than a French perfume.” Casey snorted, “Yeah…right.” “That’s what she said,” Billy responded with a grin.
Billy uncapped a beer and took a long drag off the bottle. He happily sighed and said, “You’ll see how a true Scotsman handles his beer. It’ll all be deposited in the urinal.” Billy drained his beer as Casey and Rick screwed their faces in disgust, hefted their duffel bags, and left the room. Michael walked with Billy and said, “Uh…look…Billy…uh…don’t take a nap on the plane, OK?” Billy looked at Michael, saying, “Michael, it’s not fun anymore. Why don’t you guys just lay off me for a bit.” Michael sighed as he settled in the cab for the ride to the private airport.
Hours later, Billy woke from a nap just before the plane was to start its final approach to the airstrip near Langley. He looked around him and saw his teammates sitting in the back of the private jet, quietly chatting. Casey noticed Billy was awake and shouted, “Man, I thought Michael told you to stay awake. You really unleashed a harsh one…the ventilation system can’t handle it.”
Billy sighed and headed for the toilet to relieve his painfully full bladder. When he finished, he returned to his seat feeling much more comfortable, and as he buckled his seat belt and relaxed in the seat, he felt something strange moving through his belly; suddenly, without warning, he felt and heard the unmistakable sound of a fart, followed by his body’s release of a loud, healthy burp. As his teammates dissolved into uncontrollable laughter, Billy lowered his head into his hand, thoroughly regretting that last beer before they left Timor.