~M~ Beauty & Beast ~Juicesir & Natora~

[Natora]

~This roleplay is rated M for suggestive scenes, language, violence, alcohol... etc...etc...~

Duchess Marilyn Trumpette. That is what her parents named her. Fittingly, she chose to use her second name instead of her first and then tried to convince most people to call her Lyn after that. To walk around being called Duchess seemed much too obnoxious. She was now the personal executive assistant to a CEO of a large company in town. She didn't mind her work. The reason she had chosen it was so that she would have time to do what she actually enjoyed doing with her weekends and her free time. The perks of working for the rich and famous, so she thought.

She was in her mid twenties and had long brown hair that she streaked red or blonde, alternating between colours. In any case it was always long and framed her cute face and brown eyes. She wasn't the most stunning woman as all the magazines liked to tell her but she loved her look and she kept it the way she pleased. She had a fine frame with a set of wide "birthing" hips as her mother called them. It seemed that every time she went home for dinner her parents would constantly mention how she needed to get a man and give them some grand kids soon. The truth was she did want a family of her own but she had never found a man that appreciated her for all her quirkiness. Sure she liked feeling appreciated by men but most would run as soon as they found out about her "fun", most using the excuse that she was "too dedicated".

She looked up at the clock. It was 4:55pm. She had five minutes left until she was allowed to leave for the weekend...as long as her sometimes jackass of a boss didn't slap something else on her desk. She would be ticked if he did but as always would take the work without complaint, knowing that she was actually paid quite well for what she did. After sighing and saying a quick prayer that he wouldn't say a word, she continued to finish the quick letter that she was writing for him. It was just yet another press statement about something else that didn't matter as far as she was concerned. Why couldn't he use all his money to support an actual worthy cause? An animal shelter or a free clinic or something? Well, she knew what she would do with the money anyways.

For all this man was worth, she thought he would have done something good for the community in some form. After quickly saving the file, she sent him a copy by email and printed another one off. 4:59. She didn't dare log out of her computer a moment before but grabbed her jacket, hoping the action would spell good karma for her. For too long she had been rescheduling this dinner with her girl friend. It was time that she didn't have to stay late and could enjoy some time in the evenings.

[Juicesir]

"And with recent confidence in the market waning, Trophos International may end up being this season's biggest fish out of water. Will the Man Who Bought the Sky pull through, or is Chicken Little finally-" Gabriel gently clicked the power button to his remote. With a sigh, he reclined at his desk, closed his eyes, and let out a deep sigh.

In all honesty, this was not his fault. He wasn't the one who had decided to sell half their shares to the fucking Chinese. He wasn't responsible for the recent cloud storage scare and security leak. He wasn't the one who had decided to transform their failing telemarketer corporation into a god damned internet broadband hub or whatever. And then die on top of all of it! He wasn't his father, and that ass hat had left him in a load of trouble.

The IT line flashed on his phone, he hit the button to answer. "Yeah?"

"Mr. Wechsler, we've got a problem with the IPv8 coding. We're not sure that it's-"

He was done with this.

"Save it for Monday."

Another gentle press, and the worrisome tech guy was silenced.

Here he was, seated at the throne of his father's communications empire, watching as all it all slowly went up in flames and burned to the ground around him. Billionaire. Ha. They wouldn't be calling him that for long, that's for sure.

But it was no matter. He would figure out a way. Or other people would. Or they'd be sold off to China. Who could really say?

Gabriel stood up, his Luxury suit (http://www.refinedguy.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/11/2-alexander_amosu-bespoke-suit-most-expensive-suits.jpg) still as wrinkle free as Alexander Price himself had promised. It was comfortable as hell to boot. Definitely a quality investment of his father's money. If I'm going down with this ship, Gabriel had rationalized, I might as well be a damn fine looking captain. He proceeded out of this extremely well tempered executive suite. Lyn was sitting at her desk, counting the seconds til she could be rid of this place no doubt. He didn't blame her. He was doing the same.

"So Duchess. Weekend plans?"

[Natora]

Duchess looked up at him a little worriedly as he came out of his office. "A few, sir," she said honestly. Now that he was out of his office, the clock finally changed to 5:00. Without missing a beat she finally shut off her computer. The bit of closure for the day was wonderful and she could finally make the dinner date with her friend. Needless to say they would both be relieved.

She smiled gently to him, not sure if she was about to get an assignment to take home or not. He seemed in a rather decent mood right now. "Any plans for you?" she asked, deciding a light conversation as they made their way out of the penthouse office wouldn't kill her. She walked over to the elevator in front of him and pressed the button, calling it to them.

Knowing what the stories were about the company, she didn't know what to believe: the tabloids or the "optimistic" nature of her employer. The elevator dinged as it got to their floor and she stepped in, the delicate sounds of her heels clacking on the floor. It was a wonderful sound to her, the sound of leaving. She held the door for him so he could join her.

[Juicesir]

"Yeeeeaaaah, not really." He was walking with her to the elevator. As the click of her heels tapped against the floor and the fabric of his bi-weave suit thrushed against the stuffy 50th story air the ventilation pumped through the building, he descended into a somewhat disinterested madness. Magazine covers flashed before his eyes, DOW and NASDAQ numbers flitted through his vision, and he saw the ultimate demise of everything he really hadn't worked for.

As they reached the elevator, and she held it open for him, he was reminded of how hot she generally was. His father had always said to hire a good-looking secretary because "it takes them away from looking at your ugly mug for a bit." The man certainly had known how to run a business. Right into the ground.

"Come to dinner with me." It wasn't necessarily a blurted statement, but it certainly struck him as an interesting and surprising phrase he wouldn't have ever really said. It was said with a light tone, as his voice still had a somewhat boyish sense to it's sound even at 28. It wasn't like he wasn't unattractive either; slim, perhaps just a touch too much so, short brown hair expertly coiffed by the finest hairdressers on the Upper East Side, a slick suit. He was fit, appropriately tanned, with extremely pale blue eyes that didn't quite match the rugged color of his hair. He looked young, she looked hot. Why not? He added, after just a slight moment, "My treat."

[Natora]

When he offered the dinner just as the door closed on them, she near fell back against the wood panelling of the elevator. Dinner? With her employer? Wouldn't the media have fun with this? And she had her dinner with her friend tonight. Thank goodness.

"I'm really sorry, sir. I can't tonight. I have dinner plans with a friend. We haven't been able to get together for a while," she explained to him gently, trying to let him down easily. Turning down a rich, 28 year old CEO was not the easiest thing for this 25 year old to do. What more could she want to do than have a rich older man as a boyfriend? Mind you, he wasn't asking her on a date, just dinner, at his expense.

"Maybe another night," she said, not really intending to offer another night that she would be free. Her weekends were normally rather full of volunteering and such and then during the week she was always working for him. It didn't leave much room for free time.

[Juicesir]

"A friend!" So the grand Duchess did have such a thing as a social life. Interesting. "Well, no need to be stingy. Invite them along! We'll make it a party."

He didn't rightly know why he was inviting her to dinner. Her salary, while substantial, was still probably not even in the ballpark of the meals he was used to eating. Hell, it probably even wasn't in the same sport's league. She was amateur hockey. He was Wimbledon box seats. Or Olympic all-access passes. He was all the sports.

These internal metaphors were beginning to confuse him. He brushed a hand through his hair. She was playing hard to get. Gabriel knew she was probably thinking a lot about what it would look like if the CEO of a floundering corporation was taking his secretary out to dinner. Personally he didn't give two shits, but the addition of a friend would be a welcome incorporation into deferring anything the media might read into it.

"Wherever you two ladies are eating is probably schlock bistro or something." Probably some vegan hovel, he quietly added in his mind to himself. But he wasn't about to put her down for her volunteerism and whatever else the hell hippie dippy things she chose to do with her time. "Come, both of you, and it's my treat. Call your friend up, I'm sure she won't mind."

[Natora]

When he first exclaimed that she had a friend, she felt slight relief that she wouldn't have to go with him. Then he added that she could bring her friend. She groaned inside and tried her hardest not to frown. She went out to dinner with her friends to whine, cry, and complain about her job, be it in a schlock bistro or the Rirz on 34th street. She couldn't very well do that with her boss sitting across the table from her.

What could she say though? It wasn't like he was giving her much of a choice in the matter. She nodded gently and pulled out her phone. It looked almost ancient and was one of the Nokia phones that never died. She pulled up her girl friend's number and called her. She may be paid fairly well but after rent and utilities, this was definitely all she could afford. She needed to keep her phone as well since she needed to be available to Gabriel every day of the week.

When her girl friend answered, Duchess' end of the conversation sounded like this. "Hey Chelsea! So, small change of plans.... No, I'm not working late. My employer would like to take myself and a friend out to dinner.... No, I'm not kidding...." a small laugh "No, you don't have to pay for anything but I wouldn't recommend trying to make him broke....Sounds good....Just what you would wear to work....See you soon. Bye." She looked up at Gabriel once the conversation was over. "She says great!" she said, forcing a smile onto her lips. Their ride was finally broken as they got to the main floor and the elevator opened into the lobby.

After spending so much time in the elevator, feeling intimidated by the gorgeous man beside her, she was grateful for the open space that they could walk out into now. "If you let me know where it is, I will text her the restaurant," she said to him gently.

[Juicesir]

A coy smiled swirled around his lips. It was the smile of someone who knows something worth knowing, the kind of look one gets when they have all the cards and know they can flaunt them. It was smug, but in such a genuine way that it might be taken for a humble sort of pride. As he spoke the restaurant's name, he naturally let is slide off his smooth voice as if it were the wrapper to a fine chocolate, the lingerie to a finer woman.

"Le Bernardin, naturally." He pulled out his cell phone and dialed the number he had for it on speed dial. Unlike fossilized dinosaur relic of a Nokia, Gabriel possessed the iPhone 6. He hoped, secretly, that she would be impressed. Tech analysts and market gurus didn't even have a date for it's release set, but the new corporation processing Apple's chips owed him a special favor. And being one of the foremost names in telecommunications, he decided it was worth testing it for them. The prototype was all the ease and use of other iPhones with faster speed and intuitive user interface. He just hoped that they would keep it for the commercialized, scaled down version. Lesser people could use to see what real technological might produced.

The number dialed at a quick touch, and within seconds...

"Yes, I would like to reserve a table for three." A pause. "Could you put it under Wechsler. Gabriel Wechsler." A pause, and then a small laugh. "Yes, Anthony, I'm well. It'll just be the three this time." Another pause. "Soon, yes." And a final laugh. "Alright, thank you very much. Goodbye."

He pocketed the phone once again as they walked to the garage parking. He had held it on the side he knew she was sure to see. Nothing wrong with being a little bit impressive now and again. And he could afford to flaunt it.

For now.

He opened the door to the parking, allowing her to walk through first. "M'lady." And there was his car: his custom green McLaren F1. With a push of a button drawn from his jacket, he was able to open the door on both sides for her. "You sure your friend wouldn't mind a pickup instead? We can go get her."

[Natora]

When he opened the phone and made the call, she noticed briefly what the phone was and did everything in her power to not stare at it. It was as obnoxious as the sound of his voice. She knew what he was trying to do and hated him all the more for it. He was not the kind of man that she would ever even consider dating let alone be impressed by him.

She followed him to the car and was stunned by it. Not having the money saved up to get a car on her own, even a meager Toyota Corolla seemed like a beautiful car to her. This was too much. For anyone. She gave him a half smile and slid into the front seat beside him. "I can let her know that we could give her a ride. I'm sure she would love it," she said gently. She pulled out her own phone again, now slightly self conscious about it. She quickly and adeptly punched the buttons lightly to send a text to her friend letting her know that they would pick her up.

"So, are you sure you want to go to Le Bernardin?" she asked, the name of the restaurant sounding harsh and foreign on her tongue. "We could just as easily go to Earl's or Moxie's," she suggested gently. She would feel so out of place at a rich restaurant like Bernardin. Chelsea would love it and relish in the lavish attention they were sure to receive but it wasn't going to be all that easy for herself.

[Juicesir]

Gabriel had never even heard of either of those places before. They sounded like trucker stops. They sounded like a Denny's wannabe. They sound like something his country cousins would ask if the city had the first thing they arrived.

Gabriel didn't even had country cousins and he knew they'd love the place. He thought. Maybe. He didn't have country cousins, so he really couldn't know for sure.

"Oh no. It's gotta be Le Bernardin now. You had your chance to say," he said, with a wagging finger and a glistening smile. Did she even realize what it would look like if he cancelled his reservation? Did she know the level of pull she had with the staff? It would be insulting to insinuate that he would have preferred somewhere else. He had no intentions of letting that occur.

Le Bernardin was it. He started the car. The greatest road car made by man, they had called it when it first released. And it purred like a hungry, sex crazed kitten.

Boy he really needed work on the metaphors.

They pulled out of the garage, his security access card allowing them free exit. Unlike those other plebeians who worked... for... him...

It occurred suddenly to Gabriel just how ridiculous this whole thing was. She probably wasn't going to like the restaurant at all. It wasn't her thing. She seemed caring and nice and not at all a $125 flat fee full course seafood type of girl. Maybe, a little voice in the back of his head said, they should just go to Earl's or whatever.

Ah, but that doesn't matter. He justified it. This was his nice gesture. He was bringing her up to his level. This was generous! This was nice! This was good! Dumb trucker stops didn't matter. What mattered was fine food with good quality company. And while he wasn't quite sure the Duchess was the finest of company, he suspected more lurked to her than met the eye. And he wanted to bring that out.

Where was all this desire coming from? Jesus... he didn't care. It was just feeling right.

"So where are we meeting this friend of yours then?"

[Natora]

Duchess took the whole drive to only speak to him about where he needed to go to get to Chelsea's house. She wasn't necessarily looking forward to this dinner but the price tag on it wasn't going to be expensive, whether he said so or not.

When they arrived at Chelsea's house she gently said, "Just... Wait here. I'll be right back with her." She got out of the car without waiting for an argument or an answer. He wasn't her boss right now if they were going out for dinner. She went up to the duplex's door and knocked on the deep red door of her friend's place.

Chelsea opened the door with a broad smile and a short, impressive dress on. She laughed with her friend and shook her head. "Let's go. You're already dressed hotter than I am," she said to her blonde and skinny friend. They laughed together and walked back towards the car together.

Chelsea whistled at the car. "This is nice," she complimented. "It will be a fun night after all."

[Juicesir]

Finally, he thought, someone who appreciated true style. He let the two ladies in, Duchess' friend being much more appropriately dressed (read: hotter) than she was, which was totally cool considering that they had just come from the office. But whatever, it didn't matter.

By the time they arrived at Le Bernardin, Gabriel had been chatting up the Duchess' friend, whose name was Chelsea. Parking at the Central Parking System garage across the street, he took every opportunity he could when talking with Chelsea to describe how lavish this was going to be. Somehow, he got on the subject of finances.

"The market's really a lot easier to get than most people think. It's just about playing the odds right, and seeing what everyone is into. A good business investment is a good connection with the what people want," he said, emphasizing the last three words like they were some sort of holy edict as they walked out of the garage. He jaywalked across the street, not caring to go all the way down a block and cross. It was still early evening, and there wasn't much traffic going through here. As they crossed the street, and arrived finally at the front of Le Bernardin, he wondered how Chelsea would look out of that dress of hers.

______________

"Anthony's told me that Chef Ripert is actually in tonight." He smiled slyly, with that look that said he was bringing them in on something really special. "So, ladies, you are in for even more of a delightful treat than I first thought." He was enjoying this. It was like those movies where you took ugly girls and made them all pretty and popular. Bringing people up to his level, while he still had a level to bring them up to. He ate up every second.

Eric Ripert was possibly one of the world's finest chefs. They had no clue what they were in for. The setup of Le Bernardin was surprisingly not as posh as one might think. Certainly it was fancier than some roadhouse or diner, but the furniture and settings made one not feel so much out of place as they might think. The staff were ever attentive, and as the 15th highest rated restaurant in the world, and the #1 in the US, he should like to think so. No, the interior design was minimal almost. Easy. And the people, while dressed well, were not glamorous. The whole place spoke to one thing: the heart and soul of the food being served. The dish was the main focus, and every part of this establishment lived to serve its sanctity.

He hoped that this setting would not be as off-putting to the two ladies as the Duchess had first led him to believe. "So, ladies," he said, now just 4 minutes into waiting for their food and motioning around, "what do we think?"

[Natora]

While they were sitting in the car, Duchess in the back and Chelsea beside Gabriel, Duchess watched the city pass by while Chelsea actively participated with the conversation. Chelsea was loving the lavish treatments and everything he was talking about. She was that kind of girl. Duchess was more and more unimpressed by him the more that he said. At least he was right about one thing, though. The market was a lot easier to play than most people thought.

Jaywalking always made Duchess nervous and it seemed that until they were sitting at the table that she was always a step behind the other two. She saw the look that Gabriel was giving Chelsea and it made her uneasy. Chelsea, however, was still loving the attention. When they finally sat at the table, Duchess was quite amazed at the sparseness of the décor. As she thought about it, though, it seemed that the more lavish places didn't need the décor to try and distract people from the food. That must be the priority here.

Chelsea smiled to him as he asked what they thought of the place. She smiled broadly and answered first saying, "Oh it's just marvelous! I'm sure the food is going to be amazing, just like you said." It was obvious to Lyn that she was flirting with him. Before Lyn could answer the question Chelsea mentioned, "Lyn has told me so much about you. What's your favorite part of your company?" Duchess wasn't going to be getting a word in obviously.

[Juicesir]

The fact that it won't exist anymore and I don't have to do jack shit except ride the cascading wave of money downwards? "I think it's the people." That was one of the most belligerent and blatantly not true things he had ever said in his life, but he was going to run with it. He put on a genuine smile and, you know, it actually kind of was one in a weird way. He looked at Lyn, somewhat beaming. "Honestly, it's the people like Lyn and all of the hard workers down in the office who get this done. We have lab techs in over forty states, and cloud storage in just about half as many. We provide a vital storage for a significant portion of the country."

He reclined in his chair as much as he could, a habit which presented itself every time he was easing into lying. "But every company is made of people, and I've kept good company in my stay there." He gave Lyn a look of gratitude. "I'm not the one doing all the work, and as much as I would like to think it, I'm not the one the company needs. It's the small folk, the little people if you will, like Lyn, who make it important and help get our necessary service to the people who really need it."

This was hitting a weird chord with him. This was too easy a lie. Was this, perhaps, the way he actually felt about it? Naw, that didn't seem right. The company was a money making machine. His board did the most important jobs, and the rest was just filler to get cash out of various places around the world for where they could store their porn and secret files. That was all they did. He was getting paid to make sure other people protected thousands of terabytes worth of porn.

That was the honest truth.

Right?

Chef sommelier Aldo Sohm came to their table personally. He had, in the last several years, been voted the world's best sommelier not once, not twice, but three times. The man's palate was legendary. Along with one of the staff, he asked them for the selections for their courses (http://le-bernardin.com/menus/#dinner). "I'll start with the Chilled Beausoleil Oysters, and then the Crabouillabaisse, and then I think I'll go with the Dover Sole and the Chocolate Mille-Feuille." The server nodded, and Aldo was about to speak when he cut him off. "And can we just get a bottle of the '98 Rioja Reserva? I think the ladies won't mind."

Aldo, slightly taken aback by being preempted, actually smiled and was rather impressed. "A fine pairing." The server looked over at the two ladies. Gabriel, taken out of his moment of pride, looked at the pair of them. "We are ready to order, right ladies?"

[Natora]

All the while that Gabriel had been lying though his teeth about his favourite part of the company, Duchess had been looking through the menu, stunned first at the price and then at the lack of things that she would normally eat. She studied the menu, each bit, so that she could possibly choose an entire four courses that she might be able to eat.

Chelsea, however, was hanging on to his every word, intrigued that he appreciated his people so much. Was Lyn lying to her this whole time about how horrible her boss could be some days. Hearing him speak so passionately about his people, she found it hard to believe that he would make her stay late so many days. Maybe, Lyn just had a secret boyfriend and didn't want Chelsea finding out about it.

When the waiter came out with the chef, Lyn looked stunned and confused. Chelsea looked as calm and composed as always, as if she lived here. Easily, Chelsea looked to the server and said, "I will have the caviar and the bacalo to start, then the striped bass and for dessert I would like the guava sorbet." Lyn watched her as she ordered, stunned that her friend could sound so elegant while ordering all this over priced sea food.

After her friend was done, Lyn looked back to the menu to remember what she wanted. "Umm...I will have the artichoke and salmon to start. Then maybe the lamb. And for dessert the Strawberry, please," she said to the waiter, not sounding sure of herself once while she made the order. She didn't want to make a faux-pas here but she felt so terribly out of place with Gabriel, who could own the place, and Chelsea, who could run the place. Lyn was a much more simple girl and this was all much to much for her to feel at ease.

[Juicesir]

The dear Duchess looked out of place. What a pity that her name was so regal when she was not. As his interest in her waned, his attention to Chelsea increased. She was meant to be in this world. Lyn?

Eh.

As their waiter and Aldo moved away from their table, Gabriel turned his glistening smile and relaxed demeanor to Chelsea. Target sighted, and he was a go. "So, our dear Duchess may have given you the dirt on myself, but she has been less than forthcoming on telling me about you I'm afraid. How exactly do you two know each other?" The implication lying behind his voice was that Chelsea should belong not in Lyn's company and that Gabriel was in a relative disbelief at her existence in Lyn's life.

[Natora]

Chelsea truly felt sorry for Lyn being so out of place here. She knew her friend and this was not what she was used to nor would he ever be. When Gabriel called Duchess by her first name, Chelsea knew that he didn't really care much for Lyn. Chelsea's gaze went from looking sadly at Lyn to looking intrigued at Gabriel. As much as Lyn really didn't like him, Chelsea was quite happy to be in his presence.

"How we met? Easy. We went to school together back in high school. Been best friends ever since. Our lives have taken us different paths but we're still able to have dinner once a week when she doesn't work late," Chelsea answered, taking a small shot at Gabriel for Lyn.

Lyn's reaction to Chelsea's less than simple answer was a wide eyed look to her friend. "Not that I mind working late when asked," she tried to save herself in front of her boss. She gave Chelsea a warning look before Chelsea continued. Losing her job over a double dinner date did not seem like the best idea.

Chelsea set her look on Gabriel. The look said, I'm going to find whatever you enjoy hiding and exploit it. She was an author for one of the big papers in town. "Do you ask all your employees to stay late or is it just this special one?" she asked, nodding to Lyn. It wasn't any secret, as she eyed Gabriel up and down, that she was attracted to the man sitting beside her.

[Juicesir]

"Naw," Gabriel said shrugging, "just this one. Though she's a champ about it, I can tell you that." He legitimately meant it, and that did manage to shine through the oblivious cavalier way in which he blatantly disregarded the hard work and dedication of another human being. But he was enjoying himself too much.

The wine was brought out, and he gave the server an appreciative nod as he uncorked it and poured them each a glass. Raising his own, he looked at each of the ladies he had seated at his table. "To friends," he proclaimed and then looking at Lyn, "both old," and then looking at Chelsea, "and new." He nodded, clinked glasses, and then took the appropriate and appreciative amount of time to smell the wine before sipping it.

"So," he smiled, putting down his own glass. The food should be ready soon, now that they had their wine, "we've been talking a lot about me and mine," he motioned to Lyn a little bit, a shrug dancing along his shoulder line like an out of date boogie, "but not a lot about you and yours. And dear Duchess," he turned to Lyn, shaking his head, "you've been mighty mousy this evening. Especially when your friend has been so chatty. So," the shrug finally played out in full, and he relaxed a little into the chair again, "since she's told me about you a little bit, why not you a little bit about her? What does she do?" He eyed Chelsea, clearly only with the care and attention really devoted to her. "What makes your friend so interesting and worthy of your royal time?"

[Natora]

Finally the royal jokes came out. She almost resented her parents for the first name she had been given. Almost. She still loved them very deeply and would never truly resent them but the jokes that accompanied her name were often thought of. She looked to her friend with a sigh but Chelsea was much too engaged in having a 'staring contest', if you could call appreciating his appearance that, with her boss.

"Well, Chelsea is very intelligent, confident, outgoing, much unlike myself," she admitted with a small smirk, eyeing her friend. She took another sip of the wine. It was truly very good though she was still having to force down every drink. After some more careful consideration, she added, "And not to mention I hear she has a lot of fun entertaining. Mostly men." She was clearly teasing her friend, her voice lowered so it wouldn't carry to any other table but their own.

Even still, Chelsea looked at her shocked, not allowing herself to blush though. "Marilyn! I'm surprised he hasn't heard of your little escapades," she teased right back.

Lyn laughed and answered, "That's because I don't have any escapades."

Chelsea's eyes travelled back to Gabriel. "Well, I haven't had much fun lately. After dinner, I might have to go back to my apartment alone," she said, leaving the opportunity open.

[Juicesir]

Hook. Line. And sinker. This bitch was in his pocket, and more importantly, she was going to be in his pants.

As the first course arrived at their table, and Gabriel's oysters were placed in front of him, he began to care less and less about the duchess and more about this little princess of a friend who she had brought along with her. I mean, he already did. She was fine and everything, if a little quiet, but Gabriel didn't need to be blind to see that this girl was sending up signals like a drowning man at sea. She wanted it, and Gabriel was not about to be so rude as to refuse.

He raised his glass. "Ladies, bon appetite." And he began to dig into the oysters. The taste of them was of no concern to him. Gabriel's mind was running hands along Chelsea's breasts, around her back, peeling her clothes back to see what was beneath. He was allowing animal instinct to takeover, and his intuition to guide him. He needed an opportunity to ditch the duchess, that much was clear. The meal? She could enjoy that. Didn't matter. He needed to see to it that this Chelsea's bed was not lonely tonight above all else.

As a man who was on the verge of losing everything, he was ready for one last night of pretending he still had it all.

[Natora]

Even just the first course of dinner was uncomfortable for Lyn. She could feel that the two of them were undressing each other in their eyes. It wasn't hard to tell. If Chelsea thought that sleeping with Gabriel was a good idea, though, she was terribly mistaken. Chelsea sleeping with Gabriel would just make her job more difficult, knowing that they had would remind her of it every day. She had to try and put the brakes on this. "Going home alone isn't the worst thing in the world," she said gently as she started eating.

Chelsea finished the sip of wine she was taking and looked back at Lyn. "Well it's better than going home with that Walter guy that keeps trying to get into your bed," she said to her looking concernedly at her friend. "You never told me if he came by work today."

At the mention of Walter, Lyn gave her friend a warning look and started shaking her head. When she mentioned work, Lyn sighed in defeat. Gabriel had never learned of Walter. She had managed to get him to never speak to Gabriel yet and she had been hoping to keep it that way. Walter was even more self obsessed than Gabriel was and it was always hard to get him gone.

[Juicesir]

Walter?

"Walter?" Gabriel, if anything, looked even more amused somehow. This in turn had the effect of stretching just the tips of his smile upwards while the rest of his mouth stayed relatively straight, in a rather sinister looking motion that was as uncanny as it was not charming.

"Who's this Walter?" He was laughing now, not heartily, but that wonderfully fake and charming way in which beautiful people often thought to be endearing. The thought of someone, especially a guy named Walter of all things, wishing to bed Lyn made him extraordinarily amused. He barely refrained from saying the phrase Is he some sort of headcase, partially because it seemed dated and would make him look uncool, but also because it seemed too rude, and he was still wishing to get information on this Walter guy.

"So, who's got a crush on our little princess?" He continued eating his oysters, taking an excruciating amount of time with each of them in order to prolong the meal. An end to the meal meant a return to normal life, to a life which was rapidly slipping away from him. He could afford to be late for the demise of his father's legacy. Just a while longer. See the duchess dance for a bit.

[Natora]

"No one," Duchess answered warningly, her tone telling Chelsea that she wanted her friend to keep her mouth shut. The warning look didn't support anything else as well. The tale of Walter, who he was and what he did, was supposed to be a best friend's secret.

Chelsea, however, wouldn't be swayed away so lightly. "He's a wealthy business man who thinks he owns the city. His business is much less than yours is, however," she said, pointing to Gabriel. She took another bite of the caviar and then continued. "He has shown up to your office, you know. He asks her on dates and she tells him that she has much too much work to do to date him. One time, he almost came into your office to try and tell you you work her too hard but she stopped him by promising that she would go on a date with him," she said, spilling most of the beans. "He could almost be considered a stalker, I'd say," she said to him with a smirk towards her friend who sat uncomfortable and eating.

With every sentence, Lyn could hear her job flushing down the toilet. He didn't care about her personal life and to hear that it would get caught up with her work was just making it that much worse. This dinner could not be going worse or getting more embarrassing. Lyn finally chirped up to say, "He's fine. Nothing that can't be tactfully avoided."

[Juicesir]

It was just a smirk. It was just a simple smirk just plastered all over his face. That smarmy kind of look you never want to see someone who you wish wasn't in a position of power to have over you. It said all she needed to know: that Gabriel had her in his pocket as well.

Gabriel reached to refill the wine. This was turning out to be a magnificently fabulous night. He should follow his loose impulses more often, they turned out great product. A secretary who was being stalked, a friend who was asking for it in the best of ways. A nice, cozy, conundrum of a personal life which he was just oh so happy to hold onto for later use.

Yeah, this was great. This was actually really nice.

"Well well, duchess. That's quite the tale." Course two could not be staved off forever. Good food demanded to be eaten, and so it was that their second heavier course was brought to them, the waiter explaining the finer details of each plate. Gabriel had a polite nod and an appreciative demeanor for the showmanship, but honestly? The night had moved far beyond the quality of food, and far into the quality of company her royal highness kept.

"I'd say if you're as tactful with him as you are with..." he presented himself as the object of this sentence by way of motioning outwards with his arms, wine glass lightly grasped, "others, then I think we don't have anything to worry about for the time being." The last part was said with all the delicacy and ease of someone who was not threatening. Certainly the threat and show of power was there, but it was not overplayed. It was not meant to overtly harm. Just acknowledge. And she would do well to remember as long as the company stayed afloat it was her ass on the line.

As long as the company stayed afloat...

"Well..." he spoke, without knowing what to say thereafter. He needed to get away from those thoughts. Topic change, topic change. What could be spoken of? Something to impress Chelsea? A lie, perhaps? Why not, the ship was going down, might as well pretend it was intended. "At least Lyn won't be in too much trouble about her position with the downsizing." It was time to play this off like it was intended. Lay the cards out. See where it went, not for either of the two ladies at the table, but mainly for his own peace of mine.

External monologues were a corporate tactic. You gathered people who vouched and vetted you, who cheered you at every corner, who would always support you no matter what because you payed them to, and spoke about your thoughts. You didn't care about their input; you already knew they would agree. But you spoke to hear the words said, to see how they felt to you being said. And the reactions of your support, how feigned it was, would be answer enough. A cheap trick his father had taught him before getting on with the whole dying thing. He took a sip of wine, and waited for someone, either of them, to pay the appropriate response of interest in his ordeals.

[Natora]

With that smirk that Gabriel had, Lyn felt incredibly uncomfortable. He now knew something that gave him a small bit of power over her. However he chose to use it was up to him. With knowledge like that, he could find a way to make it that Walter would never be able to get to her and then use that as leverage for her to do something for him. What that something was that he wanted from her, she prayed she never had to find out.

She was grateful for the second course as it gave her a reason to eat quietly and try to blend in to the wall. She heard about the courses but almost wished she hadn't. It would have made everything look more appetizing. Once the waiter left, though, she started eating anyways, keeping her eyes down, worried at what they might say to Chelsea if she looked up. When Gabriel mentioned the downsizing though, she nearly choked on her bite of food that she had.

Chelsea didn't seem as upset by the news of the downsizing. "Well, as long as Marilyn keeps her job, I guess that's what needs to happen," she said to him with a shrug, continuing to her food.

Marilyn, however, wouldn't be so easily swayed. "What do you need to downsize for?" she demanded but kept her voice low. "You have billions of dollars. Many of the people that work for you need their jobs just to survive. They work for you because they have abilities that aren't appreciated elsewhere. What about Fiona? She has two kids at home and no other job that can cater to the hours she needs like you do," she started vouching for her fellow workers. She knew at least a dozen people on each floor that, while not necessary to the building's work, needed the job that they held here.

Chelsea looked at her friend. "It's completely natural, Lyn. Don't worry. Now if you'll both excuse me, I do have to go to the bathroom," she said gently and stood from the table, walking off in the direction of the bathroom.

Lyn turned on Gabriel once she was gone. "You don't understand what downsizing will do to some of these people," she said to him worried.

[Juicesir]

I think I understand it better than you know. Gabriel was thinking about the rapidly approaching lack of lifestyle his status would have after the company collapsed. No nice, no nice top floor penthouse, no nice meals. It was a sharp thought, a very painful thought, one which he didn't want to hold onto particularly. So he didn't!

"Look, Lyn," he dropped any sense of fake or formality that he had left to him, "if the company... goes down a little bit in size you're certainly not in danger of losing anything. I understand there are a lot of people who rely on this for their livelihood. I get it, I really do," he said, taking a small bite of his Crabouillabaisse. With Chelsea gone, the table was lacking a distinctly sexy vibe, and now it was just gonna be bitching between he and the Duchess. He wasn't really up for that. "How about you make a list of people you think deserve to stay, eh? That'd help me, I know. Or something. I dunno." He was distracted by Chelsea's absence, and he was growing tired of this meal. His mind was now dead set on other things. He stood.

"Listen, I'll be back in a sec, okay?" He smiled at her, putting his hand on her shoulder. "You're a good sport about all this. It'll work itself out." A thousand plans were mulling in his head as to how that last part would be made true. Downsizing would certainly help smooth the blow, but he couldn't see what else could solve their financial problems fully. He turned and walked away without so much as a goodbye, heading towards his friend Anthony, out of sight of the Duchess' table.

"Hey, listen. I'm sorry to do this, but I've gotta run. Important business just came up." Anthony nodded, a little concerned. "Just put it on my tab, alright? You know I'm good for it." Anthony sighed.

"Okay, but this is the last time. We don't normally do these sorts of things for our customers."

Gabriel smiled wide, clapping a hand upon his friend's shoulder. "But then, I'm not just some customer, am I?" Not allowing Anthony a time to talk, he went in the direction of the restroom. As soon as Chelsea was out, he put on a sordid look of someone just beat.

"Hey, uh... Lyn ran off in a huff. We sorta got into a fight."

[Natora]

Duchess had no time to answer him or to ask where he was going or anything. He just left. She shook her head, figuring they would both be back shortly. She kept slowly munching away at her food, asking a passing waiter for a drink of water for herself. This night was going very interestingly.

Chelsea looked up when Gabriel was standing right there in front of her. She almost jumped back with a started. "Oh. That sucks. Well, I suppose we could go finish dinner just the two of us," she suggested. She pulled her cell phone out of her clutch. "I just want to text her, though, and make sure she's okay," she said to him.

Chelsea and Duchess had been friends for a very long time and they knew each other well. Chelsea knew that after a fight with her boss, which sounded very unlike her in the first place, that she would probably just want to be alone. It was still a courtesy that she wanted to make sure her good friend was all right.

Duchess was still eating but thoughts ran through her head about how much he never could see about anything. He was always so blind with greed of keeping what he wanted and it near infuriated her. The food was good but it was hard to enjoy it knowing a greedy and terrible man was paying for it.

[Juicesir]

"Sure, yeah, text her. But I mean... I mean, what's the point." He shrugged a careless shrug. He was playing this hard, and the text might cause a problem. There'd be no way Lyn could see them leave together, but if Chelsea blew this... Gabriel didn't even want to think about that. So he didn't.

Autopilot reactions were just sort of how he was living his life right now.

"After all, isn't there something else you'd rather be doing right now?" He sidled up to her, not overly oppressive or confining, but certainly closer than just the distance of dinner associates. He gazed at her, that pretty boy hair of his, those teeth, the whole getup of a man with money and nothing to really spend it on. A rich man. An interested man. In Chelsea.

[Natora]

Chelsea's thumb paused mid sentence, typing to Lyn, hanging in mid-air as she considered what he had suggested for her. She looked back up at him through her bangs and a smirk came across her lips. "Well there might be one thing that I'd rather be doing," she agreed. "But what about dinner? It would be a shame to leave it all there," she said to him.

She took a step towards him so that there was very little space between them anymore. "Mind you, dessert could be twice as good if we take it back to your place," she said happily. He was a gorgeous man and getting in bed with him could mean a whole plethora of things. This night was becoming much more fun than she thought. She put her phone back in her purse, her intention of sending a text message long forgotten.

[Juicesir]

"I already had waiters send the order to another table that needed it. A present, if you will." A noble half-lie; the food was still going to the Duchess, and judging by the poor girl's size, she could use some meat on her bones. Hopefully she'd help herself to Chelsea's and Gabriel's portions as well. "As for dessert, I'll call to have it delivered. It should arrive in time for... well." His smile wasn't quite wolfish, but you certainly knew what sort of smile that was even if you had never seen it. He was in the mode, the mood, the thrall of this. He offered his arm. "Shall we?" With her around his arm, they would head back to his expensive car, and then his expensive penthouse, for a night of a much more priceless thing than either of those.

[Natora]

Chelsea looked at him calculatedly for a moment before linking her arm with him and following him out to the car, the penthouse, and ultimately a night of forever happy bliss.

Duchess, alone at the table, waited patiently. It was ten minutes and two unanswered messages and phone calls later that she realised she was utterly and horribly alone. People looked at her confused and strangely. After a deep blush, she left as well, leaving the main courses and desserts untouched. The table looked lovely as she left, three beautiful main courses sitting there untouched. The looks had been too much for her and she knew she had to leave. She looked horribly out of place there.

She went home. Alone. To her run down apartment in one of the not so great neighbourhoods around town. She knew that it was better than some and so she made her place cozy as it was what she could afford. There was nothing else she needed...besides maybe a little partnership at some point. The night went by with a soda in her hand and a movie on her old and worn television. It was certainly a far cry from the ritz that she had just been in but it was home and that was all that mattered to her.

The next day, she went to work, admittedly a little (lot) upset with her boss. She would do her job as she was supposed to though and nothing would go wrong. So she hoped. It was a sunny day, contrary to her mood, and she had gotten there precisely on time. She started work without any greeting to her boss.

[Juicesir]

Bad things couldn't be going better for Gabriel. After Chelsea had left, which had been a far time past when she should have be he couldn't blame her considering the amount of fun they'd had, he had a conference call with the board. Due to the miracles of technology, this call was lasting him through his first shower of the day (he usually took three), breakfast, and getting dressed. It was going quite well.

"No, no, you see, what this is," he said, transitioning from the home phone system to a bluetooth, checking his cuffs for good placement, "is a change in direction. Smaller company, smaller management, smaller expenses. We don't need all those people for, for... for managing clouds! Most of it can be automated." He checked his watch. Two hours past when he was supposed to be at work. Eh, he was the boss. Who would fire him?

"Listen, I've got a man in Shanghai who can do it for a third that price." He let out a laugh at the board's concerns. "Course it's human, we're not using any humans! It's autopilot, baby! We're gonna get this plane back up to cruising altitude."

He left his penthouse, a smile on his face, the comfort of a night spent with a woman in his arms behind him, and the bight future of a revitalized company ahead of him. He felt invigorated, totally not yet ready for work. He'd walk. It was only a twenty blocks. He might even stop for coffee, who knew? The day was young, he was young, and things?

Things were looking up.

[Natora]

As he was walking down the street, an old beggar lady saw him. She watched him walking for a moment before walking up to him, a limp in her stride and a very old and worn jacket on overtop of her foul smelling clothes. She looked up to him as she stopped directly in his path. He wouldn't be able to avoid her. Once he was in front of her she asked, "Could you spare a few coin for an old woman?" Her voice was cracked and misplaced as she spoke to him, not really able to get across the sweet old lady very well, no matter how much she tried.


Of course he would be late! After a night of romping around with Chelsea why wouldn't he be late? As she thought back onto last night, she was angered and upset over him and how much he had embarrassed her by abandoning her and leaving her there to fend for herself. She was out of place there. At least he could have asked her to leave and the other two fuck buddies could have stayed and shared a good meal.

She worked on the projects she had outstanding before she went on to a more...personal project. Duchess was a good, kind person. It wasn't like her to do as she was doing now. What she was doing was working on a letter telling her boss how much she was furious and angry with him. It was one way she had always found to get out her frustrations. She wouldn't give it to him in any way but just writing it and saving it was enough to get her feelings and emotions out so she could function better.

[Juicesir]

He didn't hear her. To put it plainly. To put it perhaps a little more complexly, Gabriel had been so enthused with his watch and his phone conversation and being as late as he possibly could that he hadn't even really seen the filthy old grandmother. And so that is how a well dressed young CEO found himself stumbling and crashing straight into a smelly old woman on the streets of Manhattan.

"Jeez lady, watch where you're going!" He didn't fall to the ground, but he was certainly shaken. He hadn't a single clue why this rather disgusting old woman was even in front of him. She looked out of place, like some ancient bug that had died in a little used portion of a house and then somehow found it's way out to the living room coffee table. She was a relic. He had no time for such things.

He turned and again set off about this walk, a little rustled from the cool flow of the morning he had had going. He returned to the conversation in his earbud. "No, sorry, just some old lady I bumped into. Couldn't see straight or something. I tell you, this city is filled with all sorts of crazies. Now, we were talking about outsourcing..."

[Natora]

The old woman looked after him as he blamed her for bumping into him. If that truly had been the case, she would have had no problems apologizing. As it was, the haggard old bag stood and watched as the crowd swallowed him back up along the sidewalk with a disappointed look on her worn face.

It didn't take long for the woman to catch up and just as he was arriving at his office building, she stood in front of him again. This time, she wasn't in the middle of a large crowd, standing alone and very out of place at the top of the steps to the building. When he started walking up the steps, she reached a hand out to him. "Sir, some coin for an old woman?" she asked him crookedly again.

[Juicesir]

Seriously? What was this bitch's problem? She was cropping up like a bad penny, some sorta omen.

He made a derisive noise with his through, between a cough and a snort. She was very clearly blocking his way into the building, and he wasn't exactly wishing to hurry. "Sorry Chilton, one moment," he said, placing his hand over the bluetooth to keep what he said next from the conversation. He looked patronizingly at the old woman. "Oh yeah, sure, lemme just go get some from an ATM." He looked sideways. There was an alleyway he sometimes used to go into the back door of work when he was having a bad day. He held up one finger to her. "Juuuuust be a sec." And with that he turned and walked away from the pernicious poor person.

Seriously, was this the economy these days? Was this what they had to look forward to? He hoped the people he fired wouldn't be nearly as annoying as this lady was being. Maybe he'd have a PR session for the outgoing workers on how to behave better.

As he rounded the street corner, he gave a quick look back across his shoulder to where the woman had been blocking his path. Seeing her still standing there, he decided to head into the alley. It was dark, and dank, and musty, and it was usually where the service people entered, but it was far preferred at this point to encountering the old beggar woman again. Seriously, didn't New York have laws against harassment of this sort?

"Sorry team, encounter with some old broad asking for a handout. The antithesis of what our company is, right? Am I right? Alright, so how many would default again? Can we dig through enough of their pensions to cover the cost?"

[Natora]

The old woman watched him disappear behind the alley and, wanting to give him the benefit of the doubt, stood there waiting for a dozen minutes or so before she turned, rather gracefully for an old hag, and made her way into the building. She got many strange looks but didn't acknowledge any of them as she went to the elevators to go up to his office.



When Duchess saw Gabriel arrive, she picked up a piece of paper and followed him quickly into his office where she waited for him to finish his conversation until she spoke. "There's ten messages waiting for you with names and numbers written on them on your desk. As requested, I made up a list of names of the people that should stay when you downsize," she said. She handed him the piece of paper in her hand, a stern and brave look on her face. She wasn't normally this forward with him but it was something she knew she had to do.

On the list of names, only three people who worked in the building were left off of it. Other than that, every person that worked for him was on that list. She stood there, waiting for him to look at the list and say something about it. She knew he was going to have an opinion. That was what he was best at; having and giving an opinion.

[Juicesir]

"Good old Lyn. Always can count on you, kiddo." He took the list and looked at the names. The insincerity of the compliment he had just paid her was about as cutting a thing as anyone could make. It was almost snide in its haughtiness. "Gotta lotta names on here. Hmmm... Hold my calls. I'm gonna go get a coffee." With that, he took the list and turned on his heel, heading right back out the way he had come in.

Today was not a day for the office. Today was not a day for him to be cooped up with the princess of the tower trying to save all the woodland creatures she could. Today was a day for playing hooky from responsibilities, finding some nice little indie shop that frappéd the hell out of your coffee, and just lose yourself from all those idiot things these little people needed. Besides, the suit he was wearing was meant to be seen. It was a similar cut to the one he'd wore yesterday, only with hints of light blue intertwined with the overall navy cut. It was a subtle effect, but it was his favorite suit, if only because someone had once told him that it looked like he was wearing that night as a cloak.

Things like that always stuck with him.

"Don't wait up for me!" he threw back to Duchess over his shoulder, callously taking the same roving way he had taken to get up to this floor. He had a strange feeling that old woman would still be following him. It was one of those feelings you got in your gut. So he took the same service elevator down and took the same side entrance he had used to take in, checking carefully once he had opened the door to see that no little old women with baggy sheets for clothes had followed him. He pulled out his phone and searched for the nearest and most highly rated coffee shop that technology could find.

[Natora]

An elevator arrived at the top floor just as Gabriel had made it back down. Duchess was momentarily relieved that her boss was coming back and finally getting back to work. Her confusion set in when she saw a rather elderly woman walking in who looked to be in need of help in the shelter department. "What may I do for you?" she asked kindly to the woman when she walked close enough to be within hearing distance.

The elderly woman looked at her with a slightly toothless smile. "I was just hoping to see the owner of this fine building," she answered Duchess.

Duchess wished so much that she could lock her boss and this woman in a room together for ten minutes. Maybe she would be able to teach him some humanity. In the end she knew she couldn't lie to this precious old woman. "I am so sorry but you just missed him leaving. If you want to follow him down the service elevator, though, I am sure you could catch him," she offered. She wasn't going to let this fine older woman with impeccable manners just leave empty handed. Besides, it wasn't like she owed the man anything.

The old woman simply nodded in her drab clothes and Duchess led her to the elevator. Not once had Duchess' face changed from kindness for she truly saw no bad bone in this old woman's body. When they got to the elevator, the old woman took Duchess' hand and held it for a moment. "You are truly a kind and wonderful person. I know you will come to great riches very soon," she said to her.

Duchess nodded at the woman's prediction but didn't think much of it. She was the assistant to a successful business man. What more could she make than she already was? She hailed the elevator and let the woman leave before returning to her desk.

The old woman was able to catch Gabriel as he was in the back alley on his phone, searching for the coffee shop. "Can you spare some coin for an old woman?" she asked again. When she spoke now, though, her voice was not that of an old woman but much younger and quite alluring in truth. A part of the magic she had in herself.

[Juicesir]

It took Gabriel a second to identify just where that sumptuous female voice had emanated from, and another second for him to convince himself that he had simply imagined it in something like Chelsea's voice. Because there was no way in hell that this little old lady had spoken like that.

...or for that matter had found him for a third time. He turned to her slowly, looking up from his phone, a quizzically alarmed looked dominating both his face and attitude.

"How in-" He faltered. He stared at her askance for a moment, not entirely turned towards her, phone still raised, fingers still poised for typing. "Lady... stop following me. No offense," he said, nodding his head at her, "but as much as I have appreciated our little bump-ins today, I don't have any coin for you," he said, tossing the word to her like it was some repulsive thing. Who spoke like that? What was this, the 1980's or something? "There's a homeless shelter a few streets down." He only knew that from one of the many times Duchess had tried convincing him of the good in the world, of the kind acts of humanity that the company should be doing. "Go get yourself something to eat," he said turning, and beginning to walk down the alleyway, "I don't want to see you again."

[Natora]

When his back turned to her again, a faint glow could be seen on the walls around them in the alley way. The old hag was changing, her arched back growing straight and tall, her saggy skin pulling tight, and her worn clothes turning into the most beautiful of threads. "Three chances you were given," she said in that smooth and enticing voice she had used most recently, "and three chances you denied. You were offered the chance to good in this world, Gabriel, but you chose not to.

"Your unkindness and bitterness will be punished. Now. Starting today, you will have a year to find someone who might actually love you. The challenge in that will be that you will neither be seen or heard for that entire year. At the end of the year, you must declare who you think you can love and will love you in return. When the year is over and you become visible again you must convince the woman to fall in love with you. If you cannot manage it, then you will cease to exist," she spoke to him calmly and softly from behind him.

As she finished her tale, she started walking backwards slowly, her image fading in each passing step.

[Juicesir]

He'd heard her begin to speak, heard her levy her judgement upon him. And he had to admit: it was kinda hot. Whatever this was, it was impressive as hell. One hell of an act. "Bravo," he said as she faded and clapped his hands in mock rapport.

He laughed a bit, just so completely at a loss for how to process that which had just occurred, the series of events which were about to change his life without his knowing, that he just giggled. And as she faded, so too did he. His hands were down again at his sides by the time she was fully faded. He never saw himself go. He never saw it leave.

He tapped his earbud. "Sorry again, guys. Some weird chick... listen, I don't even know. So. Transfers. What do we got?" He walked briskly. There was a place actually around the corner. It was a decent and he knew it, but he wasn't in the mood for a long walk to the cafe that his search had recommended. Better to stick with familiarity. By the time he was out of the alley on the street sidewalk, the place was just yards away. He was still somewhat stuck on the whole thing which had just happened, but he was attempting to distract himself form that presently with the conversation he was... where were they?

"Guys?" He put a hand to his earbud, tapping it. Just as he did this he came the door of the coffee shop, and opening it he was too distracted by the bug in his bud to look at the door as he opened it. From anyone other perspective, it seemed as if the door had suddenly flew open and struck the scruffy worker guy full in the chest. A few heads turned to see the Carhartt wearing fellow topple to the floor as if he had tripped over his own feet. He, however, was able to feel something barge into him and tumble with it to the floor.

"Oog!"

"Augh! Hey, watch it!" Gabriel extradited himself from the mess of a man quickly, everything a bit of a blur, a bit of a rush. It seemed like most heads in the joint were turned towards the man, who was now hurrying out of the place. No one seemed to pay him any mind, which he supposed was good. He'd just made a bit of an ass out of himself. He arrived at the counter. Turning to look at the barista, he smiled his pearly white smile. She didn't even glance up from the phone she was hiding under the counter and rapidly texting on. Typical. He rolled his eyes.

"Hi. Grande, decaf, extra-hot soy Americano with extra foam." She didn't even look up. Just kept clicking away on her stupid brick of a phone. Dumb bitch.

"Excuse me." Still nothing. "Excuse me!" She sighed. There were about a dozen people in there, but everyone was so engrossed back into their own conversations after the incident at the door that they didn't need help. She was on a rare break from having to deal with anyone.

Except Gabriel.

He began to fume, when he glanced down and saw a smart little sign next to one of those old silver service bells. "Ring for sercive" read the sign. A misspell. He was totally giving this place a tanked score on Yelp. He rang it rapidly and hard four times.

The girl started and dropped her phone, brunette pixie cut flying wildly and revealing clear plugs and a startled look. She glanced from left to right, looking for the source of the noise. Shaken, she looked down at her dropped phone. As she was bent over, Gabriel couldn't believe how unprofessional she was being! He had had enough!

"Hey!" He raised his fist to strike the bell off the counter. And that is when he saw it.

Or rather, when he didn't see it.

There was no fist. There was no tailored sleeve covering a french cuff. There was no hand, no arm. He could feel where it should be, he felt it. But there was nothing raised in the air. His eyes widened in horror, as he slowly turned to look left at his other hand, now slowly raising.

Nothing.

He screamed. Meanwhile in the cafe, everyone ignored the silent plea of invisible agony while the barista swatted a fly she had been hunting. Somewhere, as if from a great distance. Moves Like Jagger played.

He turned and ran, his earbud now on the floor where it had been knocked from him. A faint call of "Gabriel? Gabe?" emanated from the voice of one of the board members. It was perfectly visible, and indeed the next customer to walk in noticed it immediately on the floor and turned it into the barista, who judged it with some suspicion and then placed it behind the counter. Maybe someone would come back for it.

Meanwhile, Gabriel had thrown himself out of the door and was running down the street. He slammed into a young and fashionable woman and knocked her right off her stilettos, Prada bag flying with tampons and a small bag of weed. A dog barked as he passed, its elderly and fedora wearing owner shakily wondering why his precious Philipina was suddenly barking at nothing.

Gabriel ran down the alley, up through the service entrance, and into the elevator. He hit the second to top floor, the doors opening slowly. An intern, passing in a hurry, gave the opening service elevator door an odd look as no one was apparently in it, and then was knocked viciously into the coffee pot. The sound of spilling cocoa bean tar could be heard throughout cubicle area. People rushed to the young Ugandan's boy's side, now startled from the crash and burn.

Gabriel flung himself into the nearest restroom, which was the women's, but which was thankfully unoccupied. Looking in the mirror only confirmed he was astonished: he could see himself. He looked bewildered and frightened. And then began the laughing, his face twisting into an insane version of some sort of Jim Carrey caricature. He doubled over in laughter, completely oblivious to the fact that a young woman had rushed into the restroom, heading for some extra paper towels to clean up the mess out near the service elevator. She blustered past where Gabriel stood laughing at the top of his unheard lungs. By the time he stood up and saw her, she nearly had enough paper towels.

It was funny, he saw her reflection as well as his, but when she turned back and looked up at the mirror just for a moment, she didn't register his being there. Desperately he looked at her, and for a moment it seemed their eyes met. And then she licked her thumb, and smudged a spot of something off of the bathroom mirror, turning away from her own reflection and Gabriel's unseen one and rushing out with the paper towels.

His face fell. He saw it and felt it fall, but he knew no other could see it. A miserable expression dominated his face, somewhere between a grimace and a sad smile of acceptance. He backed into a stall door and slid down.

He sat there for a very long time, hands on the side of his head, scratching. "I'm gone." It was the only thing he ever said, and he said it a few times. In the hour and a half he was in there, no other came in. Finally composing himself and getting out of the shock of it, he stood up. The door slammed open and a woman entered. He took this as his leave.

Walking up the stairs to the top floor, he walked straight through the area of it all to his office doors, flung them open, and then let them slam shut, walking into the center of the room and simply standing there, gazing out at the city from his perch at the top of his company's building.

[Natora]

When he went back up to his office, Duchess was still sitting at her reception desk, ever dutiful and diligent in her task of doing all the things that Gabriel hated doing. Maybe there was something to be said for a demanding job such as CEO of a large family business. It wasn't easy to make all the hard decisions, she was sure. But she had done the math. If every person in this building could agree to a two dollar pay cut until the company got back up on its feet, they wouldn't have to fire a single person.

She was getting the paperwork together to show him her solution when the doors to his office flew open for seemingly no reason. Perhaps she had been so engrossed in her work that she hadn't seen him come in. She quickly printed off a few sheets of papers, put them in a booklet and walked into his office.

"Mr. Wechsler, I really think..." she started but as she looked around the room she couldn't see him anywhere. A confused look crossed her face as she looked around. "Mr. Wechsler?" she asked, not seeing him anywhere in plain sight. "Gabriel?" she finally asked a third time but when no answer came, she shook her head. Maybe she was imagining it. Her heart's pounding was dying down again, the adrenaline from the mission she was on fading as soon as it had begun.

She turned on her worn small heels and left. Shaking her head, she sat back down at her desk and started getting back to work.

One full day.

Two full days.

Three full days Gabriel Wechsler had been missing from the office and Duchess was left to deal with the angry phone calls and the upset board members. It was Friday and she promised all of them that he would return their calls on Monday. At the end of the day, she hung her head. With phoning him every half hour of the working day for the last three days and the last two also sending his phone messages every twenty minutes, you would have thought he would have answered something even if only to tell her to shut up! Chelsea had been asking about him too but there was no answer that Duchess could give anyone.

With the promised answers to their phone calls pending, Duchess called them all back one last time and got a detailed message about what his answer would be on a few things. The detailed messages were revealing a lot to her in that one night. This company was about to fall. The downsizing and the pay cuts might not be enough to even save it with the details that she was getting. Outsourcing the work? What was he thinking? This was an American company, born and raised here. He couldn't just outsource everything.

Her mind was made up. With a deep breath and an order of Chinese food, Duchess sat at her desk the entire night and made decisions for the company. She knew that Gabriel would hate most of her decisions but she believed that if she actually put the ideas into action, this company just might survive. She fell asleep at her desk at four in the morning on Saturday, her ideas typed out or written down next to her. The men would have their responses to the demands they were making of the CEO and he was about to bring this company back to life, whether he was here or not.

[Juicesir]

Time is inconstant. Moments can seem days, days moments. It doesn't matter. What matters is the focus; that's where all the change occurs.

The moment the door handle turned and Lyn began to walk into the room, time gently slowed. The gentle swing of the oak doors, the footsteps of someone who he had known for so long and never really seen. And now, she couldn't see him. It was a curious thing, this curse. He sat behind his desk, calm and collected, and just drank the approach of her in with his eyes.

He had seen her enter this room over a hundred times on a hundred different days in a hundred different ways. And this one was just like every other. Her gait, her collected poise. She was the ideal secretary really. He'd never really, truly valued that.

"Mr. Wechsler, I really think..."

She stopped, the ritual interrupted. The sentence fading, just like he had. And while in reality it was just a second or so, to him it was a year. That subtle switch between the known and unknown; she could never know what it meant, how in this moment she was baring witness to a new life. A new torture.

Jesus he was romanticizing this a lot.

Time sped up.

"Mr. Wechsler?" She looked around. He shook his head gently, blinking. By the time he looked back up from wiping his hand across his face, she was stock still, plainly at a loss.

"Gabriel?"

And as she shrugged it off and disregarded this moment, it returned for him. He turn, her walk away. Leaving him to his imperceptibility.

Conventional wisdom holds that a person can survive without water for three days, and food for three weeks. In actuality, the effects of severe dehydration can take much longer than that to set in, depending upon the situation. If the person is fit and the environment they are in is cool, they can last as long as two and a half weeks before the end finally begins to rear its head. For Gabriel Wechsler, three days seemed but a blink of the eye.

He wandered. Admittedly for the first day he sat, in his office, completely alone. Not even the cleaners disturbed him. That first night he was interested; he had never seen the night crew. It was somewhat of a delight. The Hispanic woman didn't notice him at all, simply vacuumed around it. Him. When she left, he left with him. And so, he wandered.

Over the next two days he explored the company. There was no real reason to it. To be honest, he felt like a ghost. He wasn't thinking. He was just acting. He drifted between water cooler conversations like bad coffee breath, hovered over workers at their stations like a literal fly on the wall. He was everywhere and nowhere.

There was no joy in his exploration. It was simply aimless haunting. He was now the ghost of Trophos International.

But there was comfort in seeing Duchess. It was a face he had not needed to familiarize himself with; he knew her. But he didn't really. He didn't know the kindess she showed others. He didn't know the diligence with which she took her position. He didn't know how hard she was really working for a company he was only playing at. Trophos was a toy. To her, it was something more.

He stayed by her all Friday night. He had been right; she really needed to get out more. Then again, so did he. He hadn't seen the sun in days. He was alright with that; fuck it, it's not like anyone could see or care. But he saw Duchess calling, and saw her working and writing. Old school, pen and paper, writing lines of ideas.

And then, time slowed once more.

As he read through all the notes she had beside her, he nodded once. Only once while reading. And he continued reading. And when he was done, he knew.

It was time to see her work.

Picking up the last remaining bits of her Chinese food, he set the papers back down, went to his office, and waited for the day to start. He was going to watch how she did this. There was a part of him that wanted her to fail, but it was a very small part. Overall, he was curious.

Could she really do it? They would see.

[Natora]

Sunday morning came too quick and the floor to ceiling windows revealed the sun much too early. She groaned as she got up and rubbed her eyes. She looked back over her notes and reread them, editing a few things that seemed a little too unrealistic. She rolled up her notes and put them in her bag. It was Sunday and she wasn't going to let herself miss her biggest commitment.

She pulled her bag over her shoulder and shut everything down before going to the elevator to go downstairs. As she went down the elevator, through the dozens of floors, she couldn't help but think this all felt a little eerie. She was the only one here, not even the cleaners to have company with, and it was just plain frightening almost. She had never worked on a weekend before unless he'd agreed to pay her so much more money. Even then her jackass of a boss was there to make demands.

The ding of the elevator at the bottom floor was a welcome sound. She near ran out the building into the mid-morning light and jumped on the first bus she could catch to her small, run down apartment in a small run down area that she lived in. She quickly went up to her room and changed out of her work attire before she got into some jeans and a nice t-shirt.

Checking the clock it was already almost 11:00 am and she needed to be somewhere. She grabbed her purse again, after leaving the notes on her coffee table, and ran out into the weekend world and down to the local food shelter where she volunteered for three hours with giving out lunch to the homeless people. It was a commitment that she held herself to every weekend and she never missed it.

By the end of the three hours, she was tired and hungry. She wandered her way home, truly wondering and cursing whatever it was that Gabriel had decided to do now with his long absence. She had texted and asked Chelsea during the time he was gone and asked if she had seen him. Her answer was quite simple; she had seen him as much as anyone else.

Duchess went home alone that afternoon. She went to her apartment and made herself some quick and easy pasta. With that and a glass of wine, she sat on her old and raggy couch to look over her notes for the company and what she planned on doing. She made an order and plan of what she would do come tomorrow, who she would talk to first and what she would say to them. It was fairly simply actually. Once she had her plan ready, she moved to her bedroom and went to sleep.

**************

The meeting that she had called everyone to literally had the entire building waiting in the lobby for Gabriel to speak. No one knew what this was about or what was going on. The were simply ready and waiting for him to come and tell them what was going on.

Duchess looked out at the crowd from the side and was frightened. She had troubles speaking up over the small crowd at the soup kitchen when she had to let alone an entire company of people. She knew this had to be done though and with a deep breath, she stepped up to the plate and looked out over the crowd as all the curious eyes landed on her.

"Hello, good morning," she started, slightly stuttering already. "I know you're all curious as to why you're here and not at your desks working and where Mr. Wechsler has been. I ask you not to worry about him as he has sent me with all his notes for this gathering and so I am going to tell you why we're all here," she started before looking back down at her notes. "The company is suffering a set back at the moment and we have been left with two options regarding our employees: downsize or request. Request what? Mr. Wechsler requests that all the employees here take a $2.00 an hour pay cut," she continued, pausing to let everyone think of what she had just said. When an uproar started, she quickly continued before it got out of hand. "We have the option of everyone of us taking the pay cut or half of us being fired."

After a few moments of silence, one angry employee piped up, "I suppose you and him aren't taking any cuts, now are you?"

Duchess calm and collected answer was, "I'm personally taking a cut of $3.67 an hour." That shut up any other naysayers quickly and everyone seemed uneasy about it but with Duchess' next statement, "Anyone who is not okay with the paycut should pack their desks now and leave. You have your two choices," the unease settled into soft determination as only about two dozen of the two hundred or so employees went to pack their desks. "I know this isn't going to be easy for any of us but this is what it is and once we get this company back on track we will be more successful than ever," she told them simply before taking her leave of the stage and everyone slowly started going back to work.

Now all she had to do was convince the board members that outsourcing was no longer required. Then she would continue down the list with the phone calls.

[Juicesir]

Leslie M. Schrieffer


From:Leslie Schrieffer <lschrieffer@nycmail.com>
To: Shu Jin <shujintrophos@asia.com>; Trophos Exec <trophosinternational.gmail.com>
Subject: Re: Wechsler Meeting

Not sure, but Trumpette sent out an email last night to the staff alias. Company wide meeting to be held in the lobby. I've forwarded to the email.

What do you want me to do about Wechsler?


Trophos International

Leslie,

Wechsler is not traveling. He dropped phone call the other day. We have not spoken with him since. Has he been in the office at all?


Leslie M. Schrieffer

I thought I should bring it to your attention that Mr. Wechsler has not been seen in his office for quite some time. His secretary, Duchess Trumpette, has been very tight lipped, and none of the employees seem to have been informed of his absence.

I believed this was pertinent to bring to your attention. I was unaware of any business trips he might be taking.

I have several investors who wish to meet with him on the China project. Please get back to me at your earliest convenience.

-Schrieffer

**************

What to do about Wechsler. It had been the question on everyone's mind this last month. This last week, it had been spoken. And not just by Shu Jin.

By investors.

By executives.

By traders.

By everyone. Everyone wanted to know where Gabriel Wechsler was and what he was doing. And so far, there had been no answers.

Thankfully, Wechsler's recent and very random disappearance seemed to have provided the perfect solution to practically everyone's problems, chief among them being him. The board had long suspected him of embezzlement, there had just never been any proof. And there still wasn't. However, trials were troublesome, and not something Shu Jin had time for.

What he did have time for was the gaping hole of power Wechsler's disappearance had left in the corporation. A hole which Shu Jin needed to fill immediately, otherwise (yet again) they would risk losing it all. It seemed to be the destiny of Trophos to be in a constant state of near demise ever since Gabriel's father's actual demise. Overseas expansions had done little to stem the downward spiral of their stock. If word got out that the company's own CEO was now missing...

There was a brief window of opportunity here that desperately needed capitalization. Wherever Wechsler was, Shu Jin was determined that he not come back from it. However, were news about this to get out to the public, then that would be it. There would be no recovery. Trust would plummet, investing would plummet, stock price would plummet. All into the great abyss of bankruptcy.

And that was not an option.

"对不起，恕先生。 在二十分钟的平面土地。"

Shu Jin roused himself from his own thoughts.

"谢谢。"

With a bow, Mei turned and proceeded back down the aisle of the Cessna Citation X. What it lacked in space and luxury it more than made up for in terms of speed. And right now, time was of the essence. With a top speed of Mach 0.92, the Cessna could make the jump from Shanghai to JFK only ten and a half hours. As soon as Shu Jin had received the reply from Schrieffer he had called up the private jet. By the afternoon of Sunday, a Trophos executive car was pulling up to the Parker-Wechsler Building in NYC, entering the now vacated lobby of the Trophos International headquarters.

As the elevator ascended to the topmost floor, Shu Jin looked briefly in the mirror. He was a sharp contrast to the young image of Gabriel. A conservative four button suit (https://imageandme.publishpath.com/Websites/imageandme/images/four%20button.jpg) with all buttons fastened, striped tie, white pocket square; the 55 year old Chinese businessman's attire was the pinnacle of unobtrusive formality. His skin was not rough, but the gentle softness that came with youth was now wearing thin. A certain roughness underlying his cheekbones, and just an occasional grey hair in the short crop of jet blackness adorning his head were all that could really signify his age.

But it was in the way he moved that spoke to experience. The hesitation of leaving the elevator, the careful, precise steps placed like gifts at some ancient altar as he walked down the hall to Gabriel's office, and a certain relaxation of an otherwise impeccable upright posture spoke to time finally weighing the old Mandarin down. He was the picture of the People's idol: an old warhorse still faithfully trudging on.

Just this one last deal. This one last thing.

He reached Duchess' desk, and smiling cordially made a short bow to her, then extended his hand. "My name is Joseph Shu. And you are Mr. Wechsler's secretary, yes?"

"Please, let us talk in Mr. Wechsler's office." Leading the way to the top floor office, he opened the door and proceeded in, walking to Gabriel's desk and examining the papers which were strewn about it. "Now, Ms. Trumpette. I have a question." He spoke with no trace of his accent, and carefully undid the fourth button of his suit as he turned back to her and leaned with both hands on Gabriel's desk. "And I am sure it is one that you must know many have. I would like to know where Mr. Wechsler is."

[Natora]

Duchess had been spending all her waking time in the last few weeks, trying to keep the company from going under. From her point of view, if she hadn't quite stopped it yet, she had certainly stabilized the company. When she had looked into it, the company would have failed in a matter of months. As she looked at the numbers and all the stats now, they would survive at least a few years.

She was so proud of all the amazing people that stepped up, a few offering a slightly larger pay cut for themselves and others working harder than they ever had before with the pay cut that was mandatory. She wasn't sure how she had done it but in a matter of a small period of time, they had managed the impossible! It was an incredible feeling to know that she had thought of some (okay all) of the ideas that she had used in a few meetings. Since the initial meeting a few weeks ago now, she had held a few more with every floor of the building and had somehow managed to get them excited for working here again.

Then the elevator opened. She knew very well the difference between a cheap suit and an expensive one and this one was most certainly one of the most expensive ones she had seen since Gabriel had left. With a swift movement of one of her hands, she save and closed the document she had been working on; a press release about some news leaking out recently that the company was going to drown soon.

She stood as the man approached her and shook his hand. Her heart was beating at least twice as fast as normal and she simply prayed that he wouldn't hear it. His name sounded familiar and when she realised who she was, the forced smile on her face seemed harder to keep. The steps that she took to follow him into the office felt like they were heavy, like a ten pound block was weighted to each foot. When she came into the door and it swung closed behind her, she felt like her doom was sealed as the obvious question for his arrival was asked.

She gulped. What more could she do? If she lied, he would know and then he would question her full integrity for the rest of the time that he had reason to know her. But the truth sounded so...pathetic. She looked to her hands, wringing them together in nervousness. "I...I don't know," she answered truthfully. "He came in one morning and left for coffee and hasn't been seen since," she said evenly but as her nerves got the better of her, she started to speak quicker and quicker. "I know I maybe should have called the police to see if he was okay but I didn't think he was dead so maybe he's just in hiding. And I couldn't just let the company die so I asked everyone to do some things to help bring the company back to life but I wonder if I might only be prolonging their doom and I don't really know what to do but what I did do seemed rather sensible and I'm so sorry. Please don't punish everyone else for what I did. I know it was probably wrong but I couldn't think of anything else!"

Now that she had said it all, it seemed even more pathetic than she had thought and she wasn't sure if he was going to take her even a bit seriously. She had tried though. She had done what she thought was best and now she would see if it was. She couldn't bring herself to look up in the man's eyes.

[Juicesir]

The words, despite the gaining rapidity with which Lyn spoke them, slowed upon nearing Shu Jin's ears. They were like throwing stones coming to their final skip, and by the time they reached the brink of his head, they had sunk into the water, their plunks reverberating against the riverbed of his eardrums. They resonated like shy raindrops, and he took it in with the grace of the sea, each one deserving of their own time.

Wechsler

was


gone

He had figured as much, but the facts were somewhat disturbing.

"...left for coffee..."

"...hasn't been seen since..."

An issue to be sure. The innocuousness of such a simple thing as going for coffee and never coming back. So often we venture into the world and never know that they are our last steps to take, or that they are the first steps for something greater. How many husbands slipped out on their wives and lives and kids when they went for some milk or cigarettes? How many missions in war were the last without knowing? We hardly ever get warning for these great harrowing moments. They so often proceed at us dressed as friends or commonplace mornings.

But, on to more pressing matters.

Duchess

took


charge

This fact was at once both comforting and disheartening. In the back of his mind, in his grand scheme of many different end results this scenario could have, leaving a secretary in charge of the company had been towards the bottom. But in the time since he was alerted to her activities, she seemed to have been doing well. The company had not suffered. And he loyalty had not waned.

When the approaching dread of great moments does bring fire and light and come not in the night, many turn tail and run. It is not in the throes of fight which you learn who is of the right ilk and ire for such tasks, but in the moment when flight is still possible. To see who runs and who stays is the determining factor for the quality of person they are.

But such musings. Shu Jin was getting caught in his thoughts again, and by now the young woman had ceased speaking, looking for all the life of her like an overambitious schoolgirl who had been caught staying inside from recess to read more and thought she would be punished. Good people are so funny like that.

It was a deep inhalation that brought Shu Jin back from his mechanical mind. A deep, slow draw of air, like the hopeless gasp of a smoker who hasn't had a fix in a while.

"Miss Trumpette, do you know why National Parks now let wildfires burn?"

He did not wait for a response. He simply proceeded over to the liquor cabinet and began rummaging.

"In 1988, Yellowstone National Park had the largest wildfire in the park's history. For so long park officials had squashed any potential fire with impunity so that Yellowstone's beauty and marvels could be preserved. However, this wildfire consumed over a third of the park and destroyed much of that." He found a bottle of baijiu, hidden behind a couple of other scotchs. Never opened. Now was as good a time as any. He brought it down, along with two shot glasses and began to pour.

"What the park officials found, however, is that in their efforts to preserve the beauty of the park, they had not been allowing for any new growth. Their forests were old, and lit up like birthday candles. And when the ash had settled, the officials found seeds now sprouting where the fires had ravaged. It was discovered in subsequent years by scientists that certain types of trees, predominantly the ones in Yellowstone, only had cones which opened up when exposed to fire."

He turned and handed Lyn one of the shot glasses, himself with the other at the ready. "Fire, it was discovered, was the only way new life could begin." He smiled at her, a very coy little smile. "So, Miss Trumpette, what say we toast to that, eh? To new fire. Gan bei!" He clinked his shotglass to hers and downed the foul liquor without any sign of the burn a 100 proof alcohol usually warranted. He went over and began pouring himself a new round.

"Now, what say you and I discuss the terms of your position as CEO of this company?"

[Natora]

The glass fell from her hand but didn't shatter on the floor beneath her. She was sure her eyes were opened wide and her jaw dropped open when she thinks back to the day a few weeks ago now. Everything went by in a blur from then. They signed papers and he tried to give her a hefty raise but she refused. The decision was that she would only accept enough to go on a small shopping spree to buy clothes fitting a CEO and not a penny more was a constant argument. She liked her small apartment and her simple life that she had. It was all she wanted.

She worked to do everything she could to bring the company back to life, often working on her hours off and at home just to bring the company back to life. It was all she could do to keep the company afloat. She wanted to get this company to make it but there were things she had questions about at every twist and turn. She had come to one of those evil twists and turns recently.

There were questions people had that didn't make sense to her. There were things that she didn't understand as she had never had this sort of position anymore and it took her much longer than most people to understand certain things. Deciding to give up for the night and that she would tackle it in the morning.

[Juicesir]

The news of Gabriel Wechsler's disappearance was kept very quiet. The common line fed to the majority of those who inquired about it is that Wechsler had had a death in the family and had requested his secretary to remain at the helm of the company until his return. It didn't matter that Wechsler had no remaining family living. It didn't matter that his holdings and assets were seized and dissolved silently into the company to fuel some of the changes that it was undergoing. And the designation of a simple secretary as the heir to one of the most well known internet security companies in the world was unorthodox, to be sure, but with how well the company had turned around over the month of September, few could argue against it's wisdom.

Trophos International had gained great repute back in the day for Gabriel's father purchasing all of the air above major U.S. cities for use in cloud storage. This move at first had seemed a literal blunder, as cloud storage had nothing to do with the weather in the slightest, but with advanced satellite imaging and broadband rerouting, Trophos was able to secure thousands of servers wirelessly across the United States, making the dream of nationwide internet service almost a reality. However, little profit could be expanded on, and Trophos soon turned losses. Now, with all of the air purchased and much of the wireless now ground based, Trophos had been for months looking to go out of business.

The Duchess was changing all of that. As the Halloween decorations were placed out front of stores and candy began be sold in bulk, Trophos was now in for a change.

"Ms. Trumpette?" As Duchess had once been Gabriel's secretary, so too was Jimmy Wirth now Trumpette's secretary. A fat, manilla envelope was in his hands as he strolled into what had once previously been Gabriel's office. "The board wanted me to give you these propositions."

Pulling out the various papers from the envelope, Jimmy handed over the board's recommendations for what the company should do with the air that Trophos had purchased over the United States. The first two were typed out, with the third written in scribbled handwriting at the bottom.


1. Sell airspace to other internet security firms. Price war and bidding war between firms will cause competition between internet security providers. Gain greatest profits from initial sale and price war.

2. Sell airspace to United States government. Government funded broadband bill may be able to provide nationwide coverage. Gain significant fame and standing and very minimal profit.

3. Possible carbon footprint sales. Talk to Gerald Farmer at Greenpeace.

Scrawled next to the last bit was Gerald Farmer's contact information as well. The first point was highlighted, suggesting that the board preferred that one.

Jimmy looked expectant and happy, but the grin slid from his face quickly. "Oh, I also forgot your order from the cafe. I'm..." he looked down at his feet, but quickly recovered, "What was it again?"

[Natora]

Duchess knew for sure that one thing was true out of her being here. She was doing much more than it appeared that Gabriel ever did. Somehow, even with bringing the company back from the dead, she was able to continue doing all of her volunteer work as well. She never complained about the work and she never complained about the money. If she did she knew that it the money would be given to her or someone else might be chosen to replace her sooner but that was not what her game plan was.

Already things were starting to turn around ever so slightly. She was able to give everyone 50cents back from the cut everyone had taken. It wasn't much but it was working its way back up there. When her assistant started, she had warned him it wouldn't be the highest paid position because she didn't want anyone worrying about him being paid more than he was worth. Sure enough, he was paid a dollar below any other starting person just to keep the playing field even.

It hadn't been too terribly stressful of a day when Jimmy brought the propositions to her. She read through them a few times and nearly missed what Jimmy had asked her in the end. She looked up at him almost blankly for a second before shaking that off and looking at him for real. "Oh. That's okay. Just get me a tea from the coffee room if you can, please," she said to him. She wasn't someone who needed all those finer things like Gabriel had either. She stayed out of the lime light with all the speculations about Gabriel's disappearance but that didn't bother her either. Why did she need to be the center of attention for no reason what so ever?

[Juicesir]

"Ah, right, yes." Jimmy brought up a hand to scratch the back of his head. It was hard to keep everything straight sometimes. "I'll be right back."

Duchess was something else, he thought. The company was a very different place from what he had always expected corporations to be, but he was happy with that. Change was nice. As he made his way around the nearest coffee room, bustling to fix up Duchess' tea, he bore witness to a strange occurrence. At first, he was unable to find where the tea had been. Jimmy checked high and low for its whereabouts but it didn't seem to be anywhere. After a moment of more head-scratching, he turned and saw it sitting plainly on the table, like a child caught out after curfew.

"Huh." Chalking it up to his own inability to focus (he should have remembered Ms. Trumpette didn't like grand things) he continued making the tea. If he had bothered to not be so preoccupied by his own small missteps, perhaps he would have noticed the simoultaneous appearance of an empty mug in the sink that had also not been there before. Tea dregs still in the bottom, it was the silent counterpart to the sudden reappearance of tea choices.

Realizing he had forgotten what kind of tea specifically she liked (really not his day), he decided to just bring up the full choices of tea with the hot mug of water.

"So," he said, placing the tea at her disposal back in the main office, "will there be anything else, Ms. Trumpette?"

[Natora]

Duchess had been fighting a few fights with the board since she had gotten to this place of power. Thought she was acting the CEO at the moment, she never took any of the pay raises offered to her by anyone. They stopped paying Weschler when she took over and it had afforded to give everyone back another 50 cents on their hourly wage. It was something that she was adamant about. If downsizing and outsourcing seemed the way to go then she had found the solution to keep everything internal. That was what she was set on doing. In all truths, her new secretary was making more than she was but she would never complain.

As she reviewed the options as Jimmy went to get her a cup of tea, she realised that the option that the board preferred was not where she wanted to go. That was a current solution that would help them for the next year and then the solution doesn't help him. The fact that this was their preferred solution drove her insane. Why were they all so short sighted. At first, the second option, to her, seemed the best to go. It would create more coverage and that would bring in more customers. The carbon footprint sales, she would admit, she had no idea about. She quickly scrawled the name and number onto a sticky not and when Jimmy came back in, she handed him the note. "Could you please give this gentleman a call and see if he has time to discuss carbon footprint sales?" she asked him. "If not, schedule a phone call for an hour another day," she said to him.

It was an easy enough task, she figured. Something she could have done in her sleep. Once he left, she chose her favourite fruity tea and dipped it into the water to steep. She started working on other things as she waited to see if the phone call would happen that day.

[Juicesir]

If Duchess had not been so preoccupied with her tea, she might have noticed the subtle shift in the paper the propositions were written upon. It wasn't more than a centimeter, hardly that even. But it occurred nevertheless.

A presence settled in the room, an interminable feeling of waiting. Within this quiet minute moment, three focuses breathed within the space. First was the Duchess' on her tea, the packaged spices distilling their essence into the hot water the way her thoughtful repose filled the room. It seemed to breath with her, but it was not hers.

The second was the changes which had come over the room in the months since Gabriel's disappearance. No picture of him lay in the line of CEOs, no remnant of his existence could be spotted, save for the stationary sentinels which could not be moved: the desk, the cabinets, the carpet. There was no stone in any graveyard which bore his name, no place which still held his reminder. Only the very fabric of the office bore testament to the man who had long reigned there in ruin.

The third was a focus not detectable by most senses. It was the strange feeling one often gets in a large and lonely old house: the drifting unease that, despite your assured loneliness, another pair of eyes may be watching. It was not personified in any way other than the small motion of the paper with the propositions; a motion anachronistic to every other stillness contained within.

But like Trophos' former CEO, this moment faded as well. The sliding of oak on carpet signaled that Jimmy had returned from his phone call. "Uh, Ms. Trumpette? Gerald Farmer apparently can't be reached."

[Natora]

Duchess looked up when Jimmy walked in again. She hadn't noticed the papers shuffling minutely but had been preoccupied with the pros and cons of everything. When he said that Gerald Farmer couldn't be reached, she let her head fall. There had been this ever present tension around her since Gabriel had left. It was like a heavy weight was always around her and the office. She could never explain it but it had always been there. Right at this moment, just as the ping for the email came, it felt heavier than before.

She took a fleeting look at the email and her head fell gently. It was the board members, wanting her first opinions already. She let her head fall as she leaned against the desk. She waved a hand, not sure what to say. A quick look at the clock and she saw that it was nearly quitting time anyways. "It's... alright. Go for the weekend. I will see you on Monday," she said to him. There was no way that she could deal with this all so quickly. She would need to review everything again.

After she was alone again, she sank back into her seat and rubbed her eyes. "I understand why you wanted to just let it go," she said absentmindedly, talking to Gabriel a little bit. She didn't know why but every now and again she would say something small to him. "And I don't have the pay check to agree with it," she said absently to herself. She ignored the email for now and packed a briefcase with her laptop and the things she wanted to review for the weekend.

With that she went back to her small apartment in the bad area of town. She poured herself a small glass of sparkling juice and curled up on her couch with the proposals.

[Juicesir]

"I don't ever think I did."

It was the smallest whisper, tossed carelessly between the space of the doors clicking shut and her feet beginning to fade away like a carnival goer tosses their last ring at a game they've not hope of winning.

Gabriel sighed. It had been a while since he had really felt anything. Starting off had been pretty bad. He scared people by moving objects that people could see, scared himself by looking in mirrors and remembering he wasn't there. The irony of the curse was not lost on his rather feeble attempt at intellect.

Today was different somehow. He didn't know, but it was time. He had resisted many of the temptations of being invisible. Never the voyeur, always the viewed. Thus far, no women had been observed in undress, no lovers seen in passionate embrace. He'd been a very good invisible monster. And, starting off, he'd been very alone.

But today was different. Perhaps it was the plaintiff note of exhaustion which tugged at her tone, or the way her head wilted through the course of the day. Empathy had been rooted in him somewhere. And he was rooting for her. So, he shadowed her on her way back home, slipping between to the streetlight shades and evening bustle. He was an errant footstep out of synch with all others, a cool wisp of air uncaused by any passing stranger. He slipped into her apartment along with her anxieties and waited there, passing the time with her.

Sparkling juice... how classy. The thought of it tugged a smile at the corner of his lips, like back in the old days. There really wasn't much to her. She was one of those rare and simple people who, despite all their normality, continued to be different in the most unexpected of ways. A small part of him had thought about penning a history book about the normal lives of normal people, but a larger part hollered back that he wasn't any such writer. Leave it to the New Yorker or something.

On the floor across the couch, he watched her. Being only filled space, he tried to reign it in. It was the first real time he'd sat in with anyone on their life, but he was intrigued. How did the Duchess spend her off time? He only knew her as the party pooper from work. Perhaps more interesting things could be discovered in the nooks of her relaxation.

[Natora]

That night, Duchess made it half way through the manuscript of information before falling asleep where she had been lying on the couch. The next day was filled with finishing the reading for the decision making process and she finally replied to the board members. She had made her decision but she wasn't sure that they would really like it all that much. Her responding email simply said that she had made her decision and she would tell them what it was on a board meeting on Monday.

On Sunday, as with every Sunday, she went to the homeless shelter to volunteer there. It was something she had always done. She turned her phone completely off that day and simply worked on helping the others that were there. She spent all morning there from 10am to 2pm. It was what she enjoyed doing on her spare time. The rest of the day she simply cooked herself dinner, which was delicious she had to brag to herself, then cuddled up on the couch and watched a sappy love movie. This time, Beauty and the Beast with Vanessa Hudgens. It was a very adorable movie, she thought. "Too bad things like that don't happen in real life," she sighed afterwards.

The Monday meeting with the board members was a fight as it normally was. She only wanted to sell half of what they wanted to and she was going to sell it all to the government to get them more airspace. In her mind, it would mean more customers down the road and that seemed like the best line of action. She didn't want an immediate response. She wanted a lasting one and that was what she used to drive her point home to the members there.

It didn't seem as though any time at all was passing. Motions came and motions went to try and keep the company alive. It was a strange feeling, having all these people and decisions that were looking up to her. There were many many days where she wished that Gabriel would walk back through the doors and take his company back from her. Little did she know that the year was almost up.

It had been an unusually long day for her. A tiring and long day. As she walked out of the office, prepared to walk home for the weekend, an old beggar woman walked up to her. "Spare some change for an old woman?" she asked.

Duchess thought she recognized the woman from somewhere but pushed the feeling back. "Um...yeah. I do," she said gently. She took the last $5 she had out of her wallet and gave it to the woman. It was supposed to last her half a week until payday but she knew she could wait. "Please spend it on food," she pressed gently before continuing to walk down the street.

The old woman nodded to her then looked, as if in to air, behind Duchess as she left. "A very interesting choice in who to follow. Your old assistant that took your place," she said. "Just remember, you now have a year for someone to fall in love with you," she told Gabriel. She raised an old and tattered hand towards where he was. "And so you know, if you try and tell someone what is going on, your voice will go silent and you will have five less days to complete the task." As soon as he was visible, the woman seemed to fade into nothing.

When Gabriel found something to look at his reflection in, he wouldn't see himself anymore but a personification of what he had been on the outside. Now there were many different..."imperfections" that marred his appearance. There were almost tribal scars littering his body from head to toe, hideous welts and tattoos. His nose was turned up in almost a snout, raising his lip and making his face seem like it almost had a permanent snarl with overgrown sideburns. His voice would be rough and harsh instead of the purr that used to escape his lips. On the inside of his wrist was a special tattoo that would count down the days he had left to find someone. Currently it said '365' in an old script.

The humble woman that he was following home had made it almost three or four blocks ahead of him, oblivious to what had happened behind her. She continued walking home, taking a path where there was a bar. Tonight there were a few men standing outside enjoying cigarettes in the crisp cool air. They watched after her before giving each other a knowing look and started to follow her as she walked home.

As she kept walking towards her set of apartments, she could feel someone following her. She simply hadn't known how close they had gotten. She pulled out her keys to open the door the building and one of the men grabbed her, starting to drag her to the alley way, a hand over her mouth the intentions rather obvious. The three of the men got her back there and pinned her against the brick wall of the building.

[Juicesir]

"Well son of a fucking bitch." Gabriel puffed out his cheeks and blew out a long, wide sigh.

He'd walked straight to the nearest shop window and just looked. Even from far away it was a mess. A stranger approaching their own unfamiliarity. Closer and closer, he held his breath, until the expletive quietly slipped it's bonds. It didn't go very far. There wasn't really any anger to it. A mixture of contemplation and exasperation in equal measure, dancing some wretched dance down his front like a child drooled their oatmeal.

He slunk. He slunk all the way to the ground. And for a moment just laid there. He held his hands to his face and then, peering between the fingers clenched, spotted his skin. The countdown on his wrist, the scarring, the welts, the...

"Aw man, is that a fucking barbed wire tattoo? Really?" Now, he was ugly.

Some might expect that, having been invisible for so long and now made to be horribly disgusting, a person might rage. Break every mirror around them. Scream hellfire at the world. Or perhaps they would retract from society. Hide in some sewer system. Wear a mask. Teach opera to shitty actresses. This was not the course Gabriel Wechsler chose. He chose groaning. Lots, and lots, of groaning.

One last sigh, and he stood.

"Seriously, this witch is crazy."

And then he proceeded to head towards Lyn's house. It was simply habit at this point. He'd essentially been living with her for months. In hindsight? Possibly creepy, but still he went and watched. He didn't know why. He had had every opportunity in the world to do all the things more perverted minds (or even normal minds) would have deviated to were they completely invisible. But the simple truth of the matter was that he didn't care. Yeah, the witch was right. Bit odd that he was following his old secretary around. But then again it was a bit fucking odd that he had been turned invisible for a year.

And now looked like this.

He'd long since forgone the suit. He couldn't quit remember where he left it. All he was wearing now was jeans and a rough jacket, the sort of faux military thing that janky college kids who shop at Urban Outfitters wished would be marketed more often. Probably. Gabriel had never shopped there. In point of fact, Gabriel had never-

A scuffle. It wasn't much, but it was out of place with the nightly routine. Many feet. Two, or three pairs. And it was by where Lyn's apartment was. An alley. He sidled up to it and peered around.

Oh hell fucking no. A torrent of rage washed over his every sense. Adrenaline burst through his pores. Gabriel closed his eyes at the site of the three attackers with Lyn, and when he opened them he was standing in the midst of it.

He blinked. Then turned his head.

A body was slumped onto a pile of trash to his left, a sticky fluid trickling down the black bags. Looking to his left, he identified the impact area of the second attacker's face by the small imprint it had left in alley's side. Still looking for the third, he managed to find the man some ways back, nearly out on the sidewalk, face down and not moving.

And there was Lyn.

"Huh."

With nothing more to add other than the very boorish grunt he had just made, he turned and proceeded out of the alleyway as quick as he could, not at a run but definitely at a brisk walking pace.

[Natora]

Duchess was trying to turn away and scream but the men were holding her too tightly...that is, until something threw them off. Duchess was knocked to the side. She covered her head as grunts and growls, slams and skids sounded around her as her mystery savior grabbed at the men and threw them off her. She was shaking, worried that what this man might want as retribution might be more than she would be able or willing to give.

Once the fighting was over, she waited a beat before turning a shaking head up and looking around her. The three of the men who had originally attacked her were laying around them scattered. Her hands were shaking as she lowered them to her thighs from where she kneeled. She looked up to where the man that saved her started to retreat. Slowly, she stood watching after him. "Wait," she said in a voice that was nearly a whisper. When he didn't stop, she found her voice again. "W-wait! Who are you?" she asked worriedly. Surely if he had just saved her, he would want some sort of reward for it. She could tell the police that this was all in self defense but it might be hard to explain how she did something so obviously outside of her strength limits.

[Juicesir]

God damnit, gooood damnit. Shit. Shit. Shit. I haven't blacked out like that since Cabo.

"Wait!" Shit, can't stop. Lyn was coming up right behind him. He had an adequate enough head start, but he didn't know what to do.

Sure, she wouldn't recognize him. But what consolation would that be? He was flustered, the adrenaline still telling him to run far, and run hard. Just run away. Who cares?

He stopped in another alleyway, a block away from where her apartment had been. He hadn't made a run for it, or intentionally lost her. He had just wandered. And now there was a dead end. Paranoia, unknowing, all griped his mind. What the hell was he supposed to do in a situation like this? He had no clue.

All he knew is that... well, he did care.

He stopped and waited to see if she had followed.

[Natora]

He didn't stop when she yelled at him to wait. She started after him, walking at first but as he didn't stop she started running faster. "Wait, please!" she called at the man. She walked after him, her legs still shaky, especially as she walked around the last of the three men that had followed her. After looking back up, the man had disappeared somewhere. She wandered around quickly, looking for the man that had saved her.

It was fairly obvious that he didn't want anything from her. If he did, why would he have run away instead of demanding things? Finally, she found him down a dead-end street alley. "Hey," she called still a little shaky and breathless. "Thank you. Who are you?" she asked him. She wanted to know. She had to thank him somehow but all she had were her words. There were many things that had flashed through her eyes recently while the men had her but being alive and well two minutes after had not been one of them.

[Juicesir]

It is at this moment, this somewhat serious, completely awkward, very tremulous moment, full of the tension of a friendship spread throughout the years and a strange curse which had befallen him, that Gabriel took his shot at comedy gold. Turning his head but not his body, the light from a lamp casting craggy shadows across his face, he growled the line.

"I'M THE GODDAMN BATMAN."

Compelled by the sheer and strange hilarity of it all, he allowed that growling echo to linger in the alley for just a moment, before turning his head back to face the dead end. Inside of him, a child laughed. The kid who had read every copy of every weekly cover to cover while his dad was away. The man who, out of all his possessions, still had his comic book collection in a warehouse in the Bronx. Somewhere within him, he laughed.

And it melted him. Perhaps it was the adrenaline finally fading, or the cheer filling him up. Whatever it was, somewhere within that moment the facade that had been the CEO playboy faded like morning mist. Evaporated. And then, he was very tired.

Shoulders sagging, a sigh escaped his lips. "No, but seriously," the unfamiliar sound growled from between his craggy lips, "I'm nobody. It's fine." He was cornered and tired.

Climb the wall?

[Natora]

When he screamed out at her, she took a worried and scared step backwards. There was something in his voice though. Mirth, perhaps? What could he possibly be mirthful or happy about? It's strange. Someone who had just killed three men and now sounded mirthful was a strange thought. Just thinking about the men that were back there, laying dead on the ground curdled her stomach.

She looked back up from the horrifying images that flashed through her mind as he spoke up. Her eyes found the side of her face and her expression turned from worried to concerned. She caught part of the face he had and he looked... strange. "Are... are you okay?" she asked worried. Just from the half of the look, she wasn't sure that he was completely okay after the fight. It looked like he was hurt somehow. "I can help, if you're hurt," she said to him worriedly.

[Juicesir]

"NO! No, it's... it's fine." Egg beaters, doing the samba in his mind. Slowly, Gabriel began to slip away. This wasn't what he wanted. A sudden pang of regret, the feeling of being torn in two form the inside out.

A frustrated growl, which came out far more harsh than he had intended.

The point of this, asshole, he told himself, is to not lose yourself. You gotta stay calm. What do I do here?

"Listen, Ly-" he changed her name midsentence, realizing his mistake, "-ady. I'm alright. You're alright! And that's... that's good." Each word out of his mouth was a migraine, like vomit. It wasn't his voice. But it was. This was becoming disorienting. "I don't need any help, I just..." A sudden thought came to mind. "You're alright, right?"

You're alright, right?!? I'm losing my shit here. Gabriel gave a subtle shake of his head.

"Just... what do you want?" For once, it didn't sound as harsh as he had intended it to.

[Natora]

There was something strange about this man. It was almost animalistic the way that he growled. Of all the things to think, calling your savior an animal might not be the best idea, she thought to herself. There really was not a whole lot of other ways to describe him though. After his harsh lash out, she was surprised when he asked if she was all right. It calmed her down a bit and she took two more steps towards him. She was only about two steps away.

"Yes. I'm.. I'm fine. No thanks to you," she said gently, almost reverently. What did she want from him? Why had she followed him? It was still puzzling her, really. "I... I wanted to say thank you. Can I get your name?" she asked him. She hadn't picked up on him near calling her by her own preferred name.

Something was bothering her, though. "How did you know where I was? It's not like we're in the busiest neighbourhood and I don't remember seeing you before."

[Juicesir]

Lie.

"I..."

Lie.

"I was in the neighborhood."

Great lie. Good job.

Silence.

Well...fucking say something!

"My name's Paul."

Paul? PAUL?!? You freaking picked Paul?

"No, it's not, just..." he turned away and took a quick set of hurried steps down the alley, as if to try and find a way out somehow over the building blocking his path.

Great job, dumbass.

He let out a frustrated grunt. And then, the heaviest, dreariest sigh. "Look, my name's..."

Think of something cool.

"I'm..."

Not Paul.

"Just... call me Paul."

...you fucking idiot.

"Now, if you wouldn't mind, leave me alone." That time it definitely came off as more aggressive than he intended.

[Natora]

When he walked deeper into the alley, she started to follow him. How could she not? This poor man seemed incredibly out of sorts. "Okay," she agreed on the second time he had told her his name. "Paul," she said uneasily. She was almost near enough to him that she would be able to reach out and gently put her hand on his shoulder, her natural reaction to start doing that, when he snapped at her.

She pulled her hand back almost as if she had been bit by something. She bit her lip and took a few steps back, nodding gently. "Okay."

You can't leave him out here like this. He doesn't even remember his own name.

"Okay," she said again. "But... if you ever need anything... you can call me," she said gently. She pulled out one of the business cards that had been made up for her. They were simple with her name, title as "Acting C.E.O. of Trophos International", and her cell phone number and email. "Please. Get a hold of me. I know places where you can sleep and get some good food if you need to," she said gently.

With that, leaving the card on the ground in the middle of the alley, she turned and quickly went back to her apartment to call the cops about the bodies. She had seen people like that before. Scarred up, beaten, unkept. It was always them who showed up to the homeless shelters for food and beds but she was sure she had never seen him before. After her shoes were off and her purse was down, she went to the window to look out over the alleyway where her saving grace had disappeared down, wondering if she could catch a glimpse of him leaving.

[Juicesir]

Gabriel sat down in the murk and mire of the alleyway, listening as Lyn's footsteps faded around the corner.

It was an odd sensation, knowing everything about a person who knows nothing of you. He'd delivered the package that had held her business cards, had seen the places where she fed the homeless and put them to sleep. To her, he was some poor unfortunate soul. Just a guy who had been in the right place at the right time. To him, she had become somewhat of his world. The one real person whom he could connect to.

Eventually, he stood. Walking down the alleyway, he stepped upon the business card, foot slipping slightly enough for him to notice. Reaching down and then shoving it carefully into his back pocket, he exited the alleyway.

For the rest of the night, he wandered. Through the gentle hours of the night, he patrolled the surrounding areas of Lyn's apartment for any sign of other attackers. The fact that there'd been three of them meant no good. One, it was possibly a mugger. Two, maybe a team. But three implied a greater amount of interest, of control.

I wonder if they're dead.

It was a stupid question, but he was pretty sure they were. No clue how that made him feel.

He was numb as the stone-still city surrounding.

[Natora]

Duchess didn't think too much more on what had happened that night and despite pressuring from both her friends and colleagues she did not take on a security team. As far as she was aware, it was just another expense that the company would have to pay for. Without paying Gabriel's outlandish requirements, the company was starting to get back on its feet again and she wasn't going to sabotage that for a security team that wouldn't be often used.

A few weeks past and she hadn't seen a sign of Paul again but put a note in the report on the paper to thank him again. It was the least she could do for the man that had saved her. It was during a lunch break where she found herself thinking about him again that she had an email pop up in her inbox.

From: No_Reply@none.com
To: d.marilyn@trophosint.com
Subj: Take Note
Time: 1:23pm EST

Dear Ms. Trumpette

It has come to my attention that you did not die out as I thought you would with the company. This company should not be yours and you are sitting in a stolen seat! Be aware that one way or another I will have that chair back and it will be with or without your live body.

Duchess looked at the email horrified before reading it again. She tried to send a reply simply asking who it was, her heart pounding in her chest as the implications of the email washed over her. Was it Gabriel? Did he want to come back and take his rightful place back from her? She would willingly surrender the company over to him, she knew. The thought that he was back was welcome but frightening after this new revelation.

After a moment, a ping came to her email again saying that the email was not available to be contacted anymore and Duchess's heart fell into her stomach. What the Hell was she going to do about this?

That night, when she went home, she found herself often looking over her shoulder, sirens flaring in the background. She only relaxed a little bit when she got to her apartment. She made it into the building and up to her door, not hearing the two men enter behind her. When she opened the room to her apartment, they grabbed her from behind, pushed her in, the punched her across the face, knocking her into the vase on her small living room table and breaking it and the table beneath her as she crashed to the ground, unconscious now.

[Juicesir]

Few people examine the virtues of a home workout these days. To be seen - mirrors surrounding, muscles pounding - is to be in style. However, such fads hold little value to those in the long run. Certainly it is a sociable experience to own a club membership and attend the sweaty halls of egotistical indulgence. But the streets can provide just as easily. In the off-time between his near constant surveillance of Lyn, Gabriel had been working out as hard as he could. Watching over her at night and seeing her to work, he would nap between routines, always making sure to keep track of her whereabouts.

Needless to say, the two mooks who had just knocked out Lyn did not know what them. But it was their heads; Gabriel simply snuck up from behind and conked their heads together.

Were it any other situation, it might've been comical. But at the moment, with Gabriel punching each of the attacker's heads into a vicious and very dead pulp, it was terrifying. The wet, pulpy sound of human flesh being beaten did not carry far outside the house that one, fateful night...



Slants of pink and gold evening sun drifted through the curtains, resting gently upon Lyn's sleeping face. When she finally awoke, she would find herself in a comfortable swath of comforters and pillows surrounding her head. The room around had white walls and, save for the bed, curtains, and a dresser, very little furniture. The cherry hardwood flooring looked like an ocean with the waves of the curtain playing the light upon it.

[Natora]

It had taken a few hours but as the sun was setting, Marilyn found herself slowly waking up with a pounding headache. When her blurry vision noticed its unfamiliar surroundings at first, that was what she attributed it to. She groaned and turned over in her bed, expecting her arm to fall off the side. It didn't. That was her first clue that something was off.

It alarmed her and she opened her eyes again, them darting around to her new surroundings. This most certainly wasn't her room. The colour of the walls, the floors, nothing was what it was supposed to be. Her first thought was remembering back to why she had passed out in the first place.

Reasonably, her first assumption was that the men who had knocked her out had dragged her here. With a wearing hand on her head, she sat up in bed and looked around her worriedly. Well there was no use staying in an empty room. She got up and softly padded to the door. Leaving the most comfortable bed she had slept in in a long time was hard but she knew she had to find out where she was.

When she looked out into the hallway, it was abandoned but it was clear that this place wasn't small. "Hello?" she called out, worried and frightened. The room was indeed beautiful and immaculate but she didn't understand what she was doing here. "Why am I here?!" she called out, hoping someone would answer her.

[Juicesir]

"Wasn't safe."

Through the hoarseness of his own cursed vocal chords and the subtle distortion of the speakers, Gabriel's voice actually sounded somewhat pleasant. Like some sort of midnight jazz DJ. He was pleased with the effect. There was no specific place that the voice could be identified as coming from. It seemed to waft in with the vaguely pine-scented breeze from one of the windows.

The problem of how to keep your wicked face hidden from someone while also maintaining contact with them was not once the common man ran across. And it was only when you were in such a position requiring anonymity that you realized how difficult it was to circumvent the issue of being seen. Thankfully for Gabriel, his funds in the Cayman Islands as well as several Swiss bank accounts had been untouched in his absence, and he had had the time of a year to get the house in order for this very moment.

"Locals call it Emerald Island (http://www.privateislandsonline.com/content/listings/1579/cimage_7f1e359d72-thumbb.jpg). I call it home." It was through a happy coincidence that the lot had gone on sale around the time of his being cursed. He'd had plenty of time to scope out his ideal retreat from the world. He'd found the island to be ideal. It also worked well now, unintentionally, as a retreat for Lyn as well.

Funny how fate worked out sometimes.

"Oh, this is, uh... this is Paul by the way. You know, the guy."

[Natora]

When the disembodied voice came out from...everywhere, Lyn turned and put her back against the wall that was nearest her, her breathing escalated rather quickly with her heartbeat. She looked around both inside her room and around the halls. She couldn't place where he was speaking from but when she heard who it was, she calmed down a bit.

She took a deep breath and walked to the window that was slightly open, looking out over the water that was around them. Oh no. This isn't good. She bit her lip, looking around again, trying to find where Paul was. "Paul? Thank you. It was probably you who saved me again," she said, speaking to everywhere since she couldn't find him. She went into the hall and started wandering down it. "Paul, I need to go back. People at work will worry. Please. Please take me back," she tried to reason with him.

[Juicesir]

"I"m sorry, I don't think you understand." And she really didn't. The company was the least of her worries right now. "You just had an attempt on your life made. You two attempts. Two. Two times people tried to kill you. Not hurt. Kill. That's messed up. So, I'm sorry to do this, but for your own good you're going to need to stay here for a bit."

The voice seemed to come from the room itself, but really through a series of cleverly hidden speakers it only seemed that way. The science of acoustics was fascinating like that. A couple pin-sized cameras, and the surveillance setup he had was complete.

He didn't feel good keeping her like this, caging her. It wasn't right on some level and he knew that but she had a serious problem on her hands, and this was the only way he knew how to get rid of it. "Besides, you need some time off. Company like that you're all worked up all the time, right?"

[Natora]

No... No, this couldn't be happening. Without her there she was terrified what the board might do in her absence. They had a sense of power that they didn't know how to control and it upset her something fierce. She looked down the halls and corridors before making her way downstairs to the main floor, realising that the voice coming from everywhere was probably not going to just leave her alone anytime soon.

"Paul, please. Try to understand. There's more to my life than just the company. I'm only holding the seat until my boss comes back and I need to make sure that other people that work there don't lose their jobs," she said worriedly. "And I volunteer at a soup kitchen on Sundays. I haven't missed a day of that in a very long time. They would worry if I wasn't there. I really don't need any time off, Paul. I swear. And besides, with you looking out for me it doesn't seem like anyone can harm me no matter how hard they try. I could hire you on as security and then you could get paid for protecting me," she offered.

There was something, though, that was bothering her. "Paul, where are you?" she asked as she came to the front door. She tried opening it and pulling it open but it was locked and it seemed like it was from the other side. How he had managed that she wasn't quite sure but there was no way to get out that door. "Paul, please let me go back with you. I'll make sure you're rewarded well this time for saving me." It was obvious that she was almost panicking.

[Juicesir]

I killed five people.

Yeah, that little reality wasn't going away. And it wasn't normal sort of killing either. He'd pretty much burned bridges with that one. Like, first time? Possibly could be considered self-defense. Second time? He was pretty sure he still had the taste of man-flesh in his mouth.

What are you becoming?

Nope, nope, push it. Now's not that time for that.

"I'm where you can't see me. But don't worry, you're safe. And your little company is fine, and your soup kitchen is also fine. It's all gonna be fine. Except you. You need to be safe. And here?" Perimeter security countermeasures, infrared cameras, proximity warnings, all from the convenience of his basement security room. "Yeah, you're safe here."

He'd taken care of the soup kitchen thing. That much was good. He wasn't completely broke; a couple people still on payroll were now donating their time to the needy, grubby idiots that Lyn decided to feed each Sunday. Okay, that was a little harsh, but whatever.

He really needed to convince her. Say something sweet. You can do it. "Listen, Lyn? Can I call you Lyn?"

[Natora]

Duchess's eyes darted around, terrified now that she knew she was basically trapped here. She started wandering around more. She found a kitchen, dining room, living area, all very nice but what she wanted was a way out. There was another door that was between the kitchen and dining room. She tried that one but it was locked just as the front one was locked.

She turned and sank down to the ground just as he was asking if he could call her Lyn. She was holding back tears as she shook her head. 'Lyn' was something that her friends adoringly called her. Or her old boss when he was deciding to use her name. This... this captor, she didn't want him calling her Lyn. "Marilyn, please," she corrected him simply as she looked around, trying to find out where he was coming from but there were no clues anywhere and it was starting to worry her even more. "Paul, please. I can't stay here," she said worriedly.

[Juicesir]

"Alright, Marilyn." So far, off to an awful start. "I'm not sure you're getting this: two groups of men tried to kill you. Not kidnap, not scare. Kill. And had I not been there, you would be dead. That's it. I can't just always follow you around. I missed the second time. I didn't get to you soon enough. This way? You're safe. From here we can figure out how to get through this."

That's right, refocus. "I'm here to help you. That's all I want. I'm sorry, but this is the best way I know how to." A pause. "Did anything happen between the attacks? Any weird people following you, or messages you received?" Get her mind off it, that's right.

[Natora]

Marilyn shook her head letting it fall so it was hanging near limply from her shoulders. Why wouldn't he let her go? "Paul, please. I said I would hire you on as a security measure. Please just let me go," she said softly, nearly in a whisper. When he asked if something had happened in between the attacks, though, she shook her head again. "Nothing... Just an email saying that I had 'usurped the throne' if you will forgive the terrible paraphrasing," she said softly. "I thought it was from Gabriel but I don't really know who it was from," she admitted.

After that she stood up. There must be another reason that he was keeping her here. She had offered to increase her security in case someone else attacked her. If he wouldn't let her go after that, she truly didn't understand why she was where she was.

[Juicesir]

She hates Gabriel, but she somehow trusts me. "I'm not after money, but if you don't know who just sent two death squads after you, then how exactly do you think going back into the world will work out? People have been put in witness protection programs for less, Marilyn. Whole lives changed. Families lost. Everything gone."

"I'm not doing that. Just..." he collected himself. He could see on the monitor that she was clearly very upset. "...we can work on it from here. I made sure no one knows you're here. You're safe. It's alright. Here." He unlocked the doors. "Doors are unlocked. Take a look around the island, it's very pretty."

[Natora]

With a frustrated and defeated sigh, she stood back on her feet. The island may be protecting her but she couldn't help but feel that all she was here was trapped. She turned to the door, having heard the click as it unlocked, and opened slowly before walking out into the beautiful evening. Barefoot, she walked around the island, studying almost every tree and bush so she knew which way to go to get back. As the sun set, she found herself back at the large house that she was trapped in before watching the sunset.

It was beautiful and so sad at the same time. Darkness followed that, though the stars were beautiful and much brighter from here. She stayed outside a while in the clean and fresh air before she heard her stomach growl and knew she should probably eat something. With a sad sigh, she went back inside, going into the fridge, finding an apple and taking it back upstairs to her room where she ate everything but the core. That she laid on her windowsill, hoping to attract some sort of bird to come and take a bit of it. After that, she fell asleep again, content until morning her last fleeting thoughts how am I going to get out of here?

When she woke up the next morning, she took a moment to orientate herself before sighing again. She went to the window and sat on the sill, letting one leg dangle outside while she sat and thought about the soup kitchen. She should be there today. It was not something she gave up easily. It hurt her that she was locked up on this island and there was nothing that she could do. "Why are you doing this, Paul?" she asked absentmindedly to no one in particular.

[Juicesir]

It's for your own good.

Knocking gently at the back of his mind since she had arrived was the idea that this was the best course. What else could he do? Perhaps he should have gone to the police. But having been gone so long... he wasn't thinking straight. Hadn't been for a while. Isolation does that to you, or so the studies said. No, it was true, even from personal experience. He didn't understand anymore.

And now... as night crept and left him still awake, he remembered he had blood on his hands, a kidnapped woman. What was this all for? Who was he really helping? What was he supposed to get out of all of this? Each day, the number on his wrist went down. The year was slowly passing, and he couldn't see how it would change. How do you get someone to love you? This surely wasn't the way. He couldn't go back, she couldn't stay here forever. It was all getting away from him, and he had no idea how to consolidate it.

It was a moment after she had spoke absentmindedly that he decided to speak. "One more chance."

[Natora]

Duchess heard his voice as he softly spoke those three small words. One more chance. One more chance for what? She stepped back in the room, not sure if he would hear her if she was outside. "One more chance for what?" she decided to ask him. She softly padded to the center of her room, wishing that he would show himself. This speaking to him while she couldn't see him was slightly disturbing.

"Come out and maybe we can go for a walk around the island or something," she suggested mindlessly. She simply wanted to see him, wanted to be sure she wasn't completely alone on this island. The thought of being completely and utterly alone left her feeling almost empty. She made herself complete by helping people. How could she help people when they weren't around?

[Juicesir]

"Listen," the speakers hesitated, "I'm not exactly... I don't think you'd like it. You should just go yourself." His skin itched, and while he probably could go out, he wasn't exactly feeling like it would do anything for her mood. To know that her captor was essentially a deranged freak of nature (and what more that that freak of nature was secretly her previously handsome boss) was a little too much for him to bare right now.

"I know there's not much to the house, but I can get you anything you want." He did have Amazon. That was always good. PO Box in town allowed for a discreet pickup, and for local fair there were a couple of lovely quaint shops around.

[Natora]

She sighed and went to the closet to change her clothes from the ones she had had on for the last day. "What I want is to go home," she mumbled as she found something to change into and quickly changed into something else to wear. After she was finished changing, she went downstairs and grabbed an apple before walking back out onto the island.

She wouldn't deny that she had been hoping that he would say that she would have one last chance to go home and try to change it all, to get better security around her and make sure she is safe. She didn't want to be here. She wanted to be on the mainland and at the soup kitchen. With a sigh, she started walking around the island.

[Juicesir]

In truth, that is exactly the thought Gabriel had been toying with. The temptation was high, and he could certainly see her side of it. Yes, there had been two attempts on her life. But the first two times he had not been revealed, or as vigilant as he should be. She knew the risks now. And he really didn't like to put such a pressure on her.

But at the same time, did he really wish to tempt fate so thoroughly? Twice already proved that it was enough. Someone wanted her dead so much that they had attempted it twice. They were unlikely to pass up a third opportunity. And they had connections. The email proved they would remain adamant until she was gone.

But then again, if someone was attempting to execute her, she had every right to go to the police. She was the CEO. If she informed the police and proper security was taken, perhaps something could be done.

But then again, they hadn't a clue as to who was doing this. That gave them a severe advantage. All the security in the world and all the police investigation taxpayer money could provide wouldn't help if they didn't know who was behind the attacks.

Or perhaps he wasn't putting enough faith in the police.

No, he was putting the exactly right amount of faith in the police.

Gabriel sighed. He didn't like caging her, and suddenly he was thinking back to that night they had gone out. How civil she had remained, and how simple she had spoken. Yet the look in her eyes that night was the same look she now bore as she observed the Emerald Island to herself.

"Okay, we're going to go back." He sounded defeated. "But there are a couple caveats. Firstly, we only go there. Nowhere else. Secondly, you will follow my instructions no matter what I tell you to do. If I think we're in trouble, I need to know that you will act on what I say without hesitation. Got it?"

[Natora]

She stopped as she opened the door to go outside, eyes wide. Was... was that what she thought she just heard.

"Do you mean... do you mean we'll go back to the mainland?" she asked him. The fact that she would have to heed him without question was only so unreasonable. There were things, she was sure, that she wouldn't follow but he didn't need to know that now that he was going to take her home.

"I will do whatever you say if you'll let me go back," she said simply, closing the door again and putting the apple back down on the counter of the kitchen. Her heart was excited. She was so amazingly excited to go home that she was almost jumping up and down. "And where do we only go when we go back?" she asked curiously.

[Juicesir]

"To the soup kitchen, and to the office, to explain your absence and make sure it's not in a catastrophe. We need to start figuring out who is behind the attempts on your life and make sure you are safe while doing so. And if you are attacked again..." he hesitated, trying to find the right way to word this, "I'm going to do anything in power to protect you, but if you attacked again, we're going to just have to remain here for a while and not go back."

Third time's the charm, but hopefully not. "Do we have an agreement?"

[Natora]

This time she was clapping quietly to herself and bouncing with happiness. "Yes. Yes, we have a deal," she agreed. If there was any attempt on her life this time there would be more security around. Surely he would be able to see that with more security the attempts or the number of them wouldn't matter. They would all be squashed and that was what would matter.

She near squealed with delight that she was going home as she turned back to the door. "I'll go wait by the boat launch," she said to him. She turned and ran out of the house, elated at the thought she was going home. "Thank you," she whispered as she got to the dock.

[Juicesir]

"Actually, do you mind if I get in the boat first? Sorry, just a," he looked for the right word, "preference thing. Comes with the whole... not being seen schtick I guess."

He was actually really delighted to see her happy. It was the first time in his knowing her that he had ever really purposefully made her happy, and the warmth which now crept over him was wholly enjoyable. However, he couldn't help but feel a tinge of caution always at the back of his mind, the tugging sensation that perhaps this was not the right thing to do. It was against his caution and cautiousness, two senses he had prided himself on developing over the last year, that he made this call and he dearly hoped that it would not cost him.

[Natora]

Marilyn respected him enough to let him get into the boat before her. She didn't move to look at him as they crossed the water back to the mainland but was almost bouncing with excitement. She probably would have if she was sure that she wouldn't fall out of the boat. The ride over was taking longer than she thought and she sat back in the bench seat, taking a deep breath to quell her excitement.

She bit her lip for a second as a thought crossed her mind. "Why do you want to avoid being seen?" she asked gently after a beat. Why did she want to know? Perhaps it was purely curiosity but surely if it was, she could ignore his wishes and simply look back at him. No, she wouldn't. She had more respect for him than that. What more could she suggest to herself? She knew it would all be lies anyways if she thought that there was another reason for her wanting to know the truth.

[Juicesir]

Because maybe you'll recognize me.

Shut up.

But how do you tell someone you're ugly? His face itched, it wasn't his. He'd grown used to it, like a person grows used to being abused. Showers weren't enough, sleeping didn't help. The body was his, but was forced. How do you tell someone that you hate the person you are, and you wish no one could see?

He'd had a perfect smile, a perfect body. It wasn't much, but it had always been enough. A fallback. Sure, he'd taken it for granted. Who wouldn't? The old Gabriel riled up, greasy feathers fluffing. "I just don't. Okay?" He ran an anxious hand through his unkempt hair. It always seemed to never quite do what he wanted. It was hideous. Her question was slowly driving him mad. He'd made peace with it. And now she wanted to know? Now Lyn wanted answers? Nosy woman, he wished she was still his secretary. Stupid bitch. This was her fault.

No, no, no.

He shook a little, tears threatening his eyes. "I just... I have a condition." The last words were nearly muddled beyond comprehension.

Nice lie.

Well, it wasn't wholly false. Being cursed by a bitch of woman was a condition. That he was in. So, you know. He had been careful never to let her see his face. Hooded sweatshirt a size to big under a jacket. Gloves for his hand, thin scarf around his neck, and a medical face mask (http://www.nationwidemedical.com/products/images/large/IMG_0230.jpg) over the rest. All that was really exposed was his eyes. No one would ever ask someone with a medical condition to take off their mask. Sure, he looked a little bit like Bane, especially with the tube going down his front. It wasn't attached to anything, and it was thin enough that it wasn't an obstruction but could conceivably be a part of a necessary and life-saving apparatus.

"We're almost to the marina." And it was true, they were almost there. He had a pickup truck, green, kept on site. Paid the owner to keep it off the books. They'd get in, drive up to New York, do the little soup kitchen, talk to whoever in the country, then drive the fuck back down. Seven and a half hour drive, they should be up in the city by 4:00pm or so. That'd be fine.

Should go smoothly.

[Natora]

Duchess heard the bitterness and anger when he first said he didn't want anyone to see him. When he specified that he had a condition, he sounded more as if he was in pain. Her heart went out to him. There were many people she knew with conditions that the world didn't understand. This seemed different though. She wasn't sure how but it did.

She looked up when he said they were getting close to the marina before smiling gently, happy that they were almost home. "Well, you shouldn't be ashamed of your condition," she said softly. "I have seen a lot," she added gently.

Once they arrived at the landing, she did respect him still and let him get out first so she could be led to where they were going without risking seeing him...well his front. She had a plan about the office once they got to that point but she was most excited that she would be ale to see all the people at the soup kitchen. Maybe if he came with her he would see that there really isn't anything to be ashamed of. "Would you like to come and serve at the soup kitchen with me?" she asked as they walked along the pier.

[Juicesir]

"Yeeeaaah," he'd been afraid of that, "I'm not... I'm not really one for soup serving. If you couldn't tell." The words dribbled from his lips, ironically, like soup from a ladle. Thick soup. Teenage soup that didn't want to do anything.

God damn these analogies were getting away from him.

"I'll stand watch," he said, pausing before continuing while he waited for her to enter the passenger side of the truck, "while you do your little soup thing. It's important to you, and you're important-" there was the slightest hesitation.

To me.

"-to keep alive."

Why did he even care? Why was he going to this trouble for all of this? He could be trying to bang anyone. Anyone in the world. Travel to Morocco, find some local girl, convince her he's a wretched burn victim as well as a sufferer of abusive late night tattoo artists and he had to flee America. Fall in love. Bing bang boom. Spell's broken. Out of all the broads, why was this all about the Duchess?

Cus you care.

It was stupid. He started up the engine, shaking the thought from his head, hoping she wouldn't pester him more about the soup kitchen thing.

[Natora]

Duchess moved easily to the side of the truck and got in the passenger's side, listening to him giving reasons that he wouldn't serve in the kitchen with her. The last thing she wanted to do was push him to the point that he wouldn't be willing to take her any longer. So, as she was doing up her belt and they started down the road, she stayed quiet about the subject.

After a little while, the thoughts in her head found a voice. "Thank you," she said softly. He had saved her life twice now and was really only trying to prevent the need for his help to arise again. There wasn't much more that could be said but thank you. She really didn't know what else to try to say to him. He had already denied any kind of compensation that she had offered. The one thing he seemed to want was the one thing that she truly didn't want to give.

Perhaps there could be a way. While they drove towards the soup kitchen, her not bothering to ask how he knew where it was, she was thinking of a way that they could compromise. "Maybe... Maybe I could bring a laptop to the island. If I had a way to do conference calls over Skype or something then I could stay where you want," she tried to offer. "I do need to work. The company seems to run more smoothly when there's someone that oversees everything."

[Juicesir]

He didn't respond to the thank you. Things were beginning to run between them unsaid and understood. It was natural, not quite as forced as things had been. He'd never really been on any good terms with her, to be honest. He'd always just been imposing his will. Do this project, check in on these accounts, phone this person, come to dinner, stay on this island or else you'll be killed by a faceless force who I've saved you from twice now.

Sure, it wasn't his fault for that last bit. But still.

The company seems to run more smoothly when my ass isn't in charge of it.

Stop.

Gabriel couldn't see the spiral of self-hate he was slowly slipping into. Such a shock to his life, a year on the run and in the shadows, and now this half existence on the edge of everything he had ever known, were all finally taking their toll on his psyche. Somewhere there remained the playboy CEO, but that part of him was small and wilted, a husk of what it once was. It was a scar worse than all other deformities placed upon his body.

"Laptop... uuummmmm, lemme think about it." A lifetime access to red carpet premiers, as well as a year spent watching movie nights through other families windows, gave him a strong working knowledge of tropes. He hadn't intended on it, it just sort of sunk in. And right now, he was in defense mode. If she had a laptop, someone could trace it, and if someone could trace it, then they could find the island. Not that driving up to New York wasn't already enough of a risk for them to take. He'd have to make absolute certain they weren't followed back. And that might take some unpleasantness.

Somewhere within him, a small contention stirred at how accustomed to violence he was becoming. But oh, fuck it.

He let off a whistle of a sigh. "Yeah, I'll think about it. Just being cautious, you know?"

[Natora]

Duchess sat back and nodded. "Okay," she said gently. She knew she wasn't going to get more than that and at this point, she was just grateful that he was taking her back to the soup kitchen. She took a deep breath and relaxed into the seat, watching the scenery pass by. She had always liked travelling even if she was never able to do it very much.

Working for Gabriel, she had learned many things. Patience was one of them. Not that she hadn't had patience before but she had learned patience of a new sort. Before she had worked for the near tyrant she had never had to deal with someone that held so much money before. They thought very highly of themselves, she found out, and it was sometimes difficult to see how they believed that they were so much better than everyone else. Eventually, though, she learned to have patience for people that knew they were in power.

That is what she was doing with Paul. She was having patience with him...or trying to. The laptop she knew that she would have to wait to see if he agreed to it. Truly, though, she was very restricted when she was with him. He was in complete control of her life and that bothered her. She wasn't foolish. She understood that there was someone out there that wanted her dead. She would bet her money on it that it was Gabriel himself. Not that she had much money but she would still bet it.

With a deep sigh, she looked straight to the road they were travelling on, trying her best to respect Paul's wishes of her not looking at him. "Thank you," she said softly. "Thank you for saving me and now letting me go back," she said gently, still avoiding looking at him, just out of respect for him.

Why can't I look at him?

It bothered her that he would be so uncomfortable that he didn't want her to see him.

[Juicesir]

"Yeah. Of course." He had the sudden urge to rub his face off. He could feel his skin aching, like he was suddenly very tired. The road was not any easy trek, though they did seem to be making headway out of the Virginian countryside. Deciduous and coniferous trees intermixed here, and there was a somewhat gentle roll to the hills. Nothing like you get out west.

"So, um... where are you from?" It was an odd question, but Gabriel felt like it could fill the space. Their conversation had been so stunted, and honestly? He tired a bit of holding the power. She was such a captive to him that he didn't like it. He wished he could just let her go, let her get back to running the company.

But no. Wasn't a good idea. Two attempts on her life.

Besides, he didn't actually know much about her. His mind raced, trying to think back to even when he had hired her on. He couldn't remember her resume. What sort of a boss was he? He didn't give a shit...

Stay focused.

[Natora]

The question took her by surprise but it was an innocent enough question. She smiled softly and answered, "Oregon. What about you?" As she waited for his answer, her eyes started travelling back outside again. They were entering the part of town that wasn't known for how rich it was. Quite the opposite actually. They had bums on every corner begging for money. Alleys were full of makeshift tents and sleeping areas for the people that lived down there. It was a sad state of life but one that Duchess chose to help with.

The got closer and closer to the soup kitchen and the CEO in the passenger seat didn't get anything but more excited as they got closer to her home away from home. Everyone there knew her and her them. She knew the stories of most of the patrons that used the kitchen as their one easy source of food. It was the perfect place for her, she knew. Once he finally parked, she took her seatbelt off. "I might be a few hours so if you want to go somewhere or do something you're welcome to," she offered as she climbed out of the truck without looking at him. "I'll see you after."

She closed the door and continued on to the kitchen without worrying a smidge about the men and women around her. Many greeted her rather happily and welcomingly. As per the rules of the kitchen, she wasn't allowed to hug or touch them but the smiles she gave and received were welcome enough. She made her way into the kitchen and suited up for her responsibilities today.

[Juicesir]

Gabriel had been born in Bahrain. His father had been insistent that they travel, and his mother was the sort not to go against him. That came back to bite her in the end, but for the time being, back in the youth of their marriage, they had been content. And so, in a very elaborate and impromptu birthing ceremony in a pool by the Persian Gulf, Gabriel Allen Wechsler had been born. He didn't remember anything, of course, but the pictures which were taken looked beautiful. He always thought that there'd been a certain sadness in his mother's eyes, as if she knew it'd all turn out to be a disappointment.

"Connecticut. Little town in the west, probably never heard of it."

The drive was very long, but Gabriel was very determined. It seemed to fly faster than he thought, to be honest. It was interesting how time did that. A year had passed when he was invisible and each day had felt like nothing. And now, he was swimming in and out of time as the waves of it crashed around him, surfacing against it, trying to reclaim his place.

Much like how he lost her leaving. He didn't say goodbye, didn't turn to look. Her presence vanished like a wind leaving the trees, and he sat and drank in the lack of her presence like a sour chaser to the warmth he had just felt. It wasn't much, and perhaps it was a bit forced, but he was beginning to genuinely care about her.

He drove around the building first thing. Scouted out each entrance that could be conceived of, and then parked the tuck in a location that would afford him the greatest access to both. Then he set out on foot, circling the block and going into whatever buildings were around the kitchen to make double certain of which ways would lead in and which ways would lead out.

After his survey, he returned to the truck cabin, and checked to make sure the sawed off shotgun he had modified was loaded and ready. His father hadn't taught him much, but he had taught him how to hunt. Those days in the Virginia wilderness had always been his favorite as a kid, as they were the only times the old man ever cared for his son. Sure, they were few and far between, and perhaps nostalgia expanded how many of them there had actually been. But Gabriel was content with the lie, as he was with so many things these days. Not content in the sense of any happiness.

It was just the way it was going to have to be.

[Natora]

Duchess was safely inside with the patrons, recognizing all of them and not thinking about anything else other than her responsibility to them and keeping them fed and happy. She laughed at their jokes and sat and talked with the ones that she always liked to it and talk to. For the time that she was there, everything was perfect. Nothing seemed to be able to go wrong.

When the few hours that were there were over, she started to make her way back outside. It was only when she was outside and saw the green truck that she remembered that not everything was as normal as she seemed to want to make it out to be. For the few hours that she had been inside, everything else that had happened she seemed to forget. As she walked back to the truck, she avoided looking inside to where he was. He hadn't told her anything less than that he didn't want to be seen so she would do what she could to respect that.

She climbed into the passenger's seat and put her seatbelt on with a sigh. She bit her lip, hoping that he would allow her to get some form of communication that she could use for work. "So... can we go pick up a laptop?" she asked curiously. She had a bit of money saved up in a bank account. Surely it would be enough that she could get a laptop and then have someone sync it up with what she had now.

[Juicesir]

"Here. I got one." It had been an uneventful time period, honestly, and after he was completely certain that no one was going to come and could possibly know of her presence there, he had popped off to a nearby pawn shop. No cameras, no trace. And they knew the meaning of discretion. He had bought a refurbished Macbook pro. Reliable and easy support, wouldn't break, and could be easily monitored using the software he had back on the island.

"It isn't much. Probably not what you're used to." He turned his face even more away from her, it had been turned since she'd entered. "But there it is."

Without much more aplomb than that, he started the truck and began driving out of town. It was a few minutes before he said anything, lost in his own thinking.

Could have just gotten her a simple laptop.

Shut up.

"So, how was the kitchen feeding stuff?"

[Natora]

Marilyn took the laptop and smiled as she set it into her lap to hold it for a moment. "It's perfect. Thank you. It's more than what I have. I don't actually have a laptop yet. I've just been using the computer at the office to get work done," she said with a small, nonchalant shrug. She hadn't invested, or forced the company to invest, in getting her equipment that would just be excessive. But there was still one problem.

"We have to go to the office quickly. I want to transfer all the files I will need from my computer to this one. We'll be quick. And there's extra guards there," she offered, trying to make it seem less threatening than it possibly could be. Without the knowledge of where Gabriel was and trying to get back at her for taking over the company there was the possibility of danger everywhere. She understood that but she had been living with that for a few weeks. If he hadn't managed to hurt her yet, who was to say that he would do it now?

"And the kitchen serving life is fine. I enjoy helping them. It's good to know that they're not going hungry the whole week," she offered as a small explanation.

[Juicesir]

"Well that's good." Gabriel put the truck in gear, and then took a moment.

Remember, you don't know where things are.

"Uh, where is your workplace again? Buncha towers, hard to tell, you know?" He realized with a sudden start that this may have been the wrong thing to say, as he had been perfectly able to precisely navigate to the soup kitchen without her saying a word, and yet somehow did not know where she worked?

You fucking idiot. Maybe she won't know.

He could feel the blood pressure rising. It was sweaty behind this mask and everything. Every worry about her knowing who he was, about seeing through this thin disguise, about what they all were doing with this entire thing, came crashing down upon him. He felt his breathing harden.

To Lyn, this would look like a moment where he just wiped his face. Difficult times for one person are not often seen by others. Gabriel quietly prayed this one too would pass unnoticed, along with his blunder.

[Natora]

Marilyn looked at him curiously. Did he really not know? He knew about so many other parts of her life that it was hard to conceive the idea that he wouldn't know where she worked. Hesitantly and looking at her captor/rescuer curiously she said, "Trophos Towers. On 168th and 39th." She sat back in the seat and got comfortable for what would be a small drive. The area of her volunteering and work seldom seemed to collide.

It took a little while for her to get the courage up to ask him questions. He was very closed off and protective of himself. He seemed to have a lot of secrets but perhaps she would be able to convince him to tell her some things. First thing was first though. There was a question that was now plaguing her thoughts. "So what don't you know about me?" she asked him curiously. He knew where she lived, where she volunteered, that there were men that wanted to harm her, but he didn't know where she worked. It seemed like the ultimate paradox.

[Juicesir]

"Heh." Well, not much.

"Uh, quite a bit, actually. I hope you'll forgive me, but I've been keeping my eye on you since the attack." Sure, that seemed reasonable. First time he was just happening by. And then he got interested. "So, I looked into life and why someone might want you dead, you know?"

"I just get, uh..." he stammered, "I dunno, flummoxed sometimes." Flummoxed? Nice vocabulary. "It's difficult keeping all the details of another person's life in mind, let alone your own. Sorry, I'm just talking and talking."

He turned down the street where his old building lay. The Tower. Years he'd spent there, he could still remember when it had gone up when he was a kid. Playing in the ribs of the skyscraper, just by himself. Making up all these stories. His dad once chased him up three flights of stairs trying to catch him before they both collapsed into a laughing pile. Later they roasted marshmallows on the unfinished roof.

Those were very different times.

"You probably think I'm awful."

[Natora]

Duchess listened to him but it was strange. He seemed almost... nervous. Like she might dislike him if she knew everything. Like she might judge him based on something trivial. She didn't understand. She wished he would trust her more but she knew that he wasn't at a place that he would trust her yet. She would simply have to wait for that moment.

"It's okay," she said gently. "I really don't think you're awful. You're actually very kind and wonderful to be watching out for me for so long," she pointed out to him. "Thank you," she added before turning and jumping out of the passenger's seat of the truck. She went into the large building with just her purse, going up to her office. Well... what might be her office. If she lived through this threat and it was found and dismissed.

She went to sit at her computer. Plugging in a USB storage stick, she transferred all important files over to the USB and made sure that her computer was clear of all files that might need a little more protecting. Once she was done, she put it back in her purse and started to leave the office again. She pushed the button to call the elevator and rode it down to the main floor, all the while thinking about her new friend and what might be so bad that she wasn't allowed to look at him. It didn't make sense. She had seen a lot in her life. She didn't think there was much that could be said for appearances. Take Gabriel, for example. Very good looks. Terrible personality.

When she got to the bottom floor, she started walking to the glass doors at the front. From behind her she heard someone call, "Hey! Miss Trumpette!" She turned. What she remembers seeing was a gun pointed at her. She turned away and started to run but there was fire of a silenced pistol and the sting across her arm from being grazed by a bullet. It didn't truly hit her though and shattered the glass of the front door as Duchess fell to her knees simply from fright.

[Juicesir]

"HEY DOUCHEBAG!" He was on the guy before the gunman knew what was happening.

Don't kill, don't kill, don't kill...

Gabriel grabbed the man's gun arm with both hands and broke it cleanly backwards, yanking it away from where Lyn was. The gunman fired off another shot, probably just from reflex, but by the time the masked man was already screaming from the pain. A swift jab to the temple, followed by one to the throat silenced him, and Gabriel finished up the man by sweeping out his legs with one well placed kick to the back of them.

The man fell hard to the lobby floor, but Gabriel was not finished. Dragging the now barely conscious gunman by his collar to the shattered front door, he pulled a zip-tie out from his back pocket and tied the man's neck and hands to it in as awkward a fashion as he could do quickly. Tearing off the ski mask and kicking the gun away, he crossed the lobby, his work finished.

By the time he reached Lyn, there was a small crowd gathering at the entrance. He picked her up, making sure not to touch upon her arm, and noting the damage the bullet had caused. He glanced around quickly, seeing that there were now people coming down from the elevators and stairs who were keeping their distance. Lyn in his arms, he crossed to one of the side doors he often used to sneak into the building back in his old invisible days. "Don't worry Lyn, I'll get you help."

After setting her gingerly into the passenger seat of the truck and getting into his own seat, he rummaged underneath his own seat for the first aid kit he kept there. Pulling the gauze out, he began to wrap her arm, keeping as much pressure on it as he could without hurting her. "How is it feeling?"

[Natora]

Duchess heard Paul as he yelled at the man with a gun. She kept her head down and avoided watching them. She knew what he normally did when he started protecting her like this and she didn't want to watch a man die. She winced when she heard the gunman fire off another shot and shortly after he let out his air, sounding like he had been punched somewhere that helped him breathe.

She only looked up when she could tell someone was being dragged across the floor. She gasped sharply as she put weight on her arm that was too much and caused a searing pain within her shot wound. As she was distracted by the pain, Paul had come back and picked her up in his arms. "I can walk," she protested, though she made no move to prove her point.

During the time he carried her, she had a rare opportunity. With or without him knowing it, she could see part of his face. She knew he didn't want her to look but she didn't understand what the big deal was. After a quiet deep breath, she looked up to him. All she could see from this angle was part of a medical mask. It made her even more curious. She looked away, knowing that she wouldn't see more than that. Why did he have a mask? What kind of illness was he suffering from?

When he put her in the truck, and started wrapping up her arm for her, she looked towards his face again. From this angle, all she could see was part of the mask again. Looking at him, she willed him to look up at her. That was all she wanted, to see his face. The pain in her arm was more of a numb pain than anything else. Without moving her eyes, she said, "It's feeling fine. We can go back now. Please?" The gunman had frightened her into wanting to be in the real world less.

[Juicesir]

He looked at her, and she was already looking at him. And for some reason, he didn't mind.

You can look at someone for years and never really see them. They can be in your life, being passed everyday, and you may look them straight in the face and never really see them. It felt like Gabriel was meeting a new person right now. And she was very afraid, and he could only feel remorse. It felt like all his fault.

"Okay." He didn't stop looking at her for a moment.

We are SITING. DUCKS.

Shaking his head from looking at her, he finished wrapping her arm and then jogged around the car to the driver's door. Starting the truck's engine, he then made a winding way through many alleys and side streets. He didn't say a word, he simply went to his work of protecting her, driving semi-erratically, taking odd turns, throwing whoever might be following off of their trail.

[Natora]

Duchess sat in the passenger's seat, pushing herself as much into the seat as she could. She had lied slightly when she had said she felt fine. It was better this way, though. She was able to finally see his eyes and it made it all worth it. His eyes, as she sat there with her eyes pursed shut, there was something about his eyes that looked so familiar but so different at the same time. What had been there was sorrow and sympathy and some sort of remorse. It was heart wrenching.

She kept her eyes shut almost the whole rest of the way to the island as she tried to control her breathing and the tears that seemed unwilling to stop flowing down her cheeks. The wound was stinging like there was no healing it. When they made it back to the house and she was inside and sitting on a couch, she asked him a new question. "Do you have any disinfectant or something?" The gauze had started to be soaked with blood and it would have to be changed if they wanted to have a lower risk of infection. For now, though, Duchess felt like she needed the moment's rest on the couch to just be comfortable before the stinging disinfection happened.

While she was sitting on the couch, she wondered if he would ever let her see his full face. She had made it to his eyes. Was that too much for him for one day and why he had shaken his head and looked away? Would she be able to convince him to take it off so she could finally see why he was always so closed off. It was only this morning that he had insisted that he didn't want to have her see himself at all. She had been respectful of his wishes until they were close enough that she wasn't sure she wanted to respect that wish anymore.

[Juicesir]

His thoughts were fully on her the whole ride down. Nothing distinct, just seething frustrations.

Told you this would happen.

He didn't speak a word on the ride. Didn't say anything as they took a winding path back to the mansion on the lake. Didn't reply when she asked for disinfectant, he simply looked at her arm and carefully removed the bloody gauze. The wound itself seemed to not be bleeding too much. He went downstairs, tossing the gauze in a trashbin as he went, and went to the medical supply closet he had by his monitoring station. Coming back up with a kit, he carefully dabbed the wound with disinfectant. He didn't say that it would sting, he didn't caution her, he simply did so with a very kind and tender approach. All of his words were in his action now, and despite the rage he had at himself internally for allowing this travesty of a trip to occur, his number one priority right now was to heal her.

His number two was making sure they weren't followed.

He began to reapply bandaging to the wound, again his gentle fingers at work. They were soft, never having seen a day of real work in their lives. These were hands made for signing papers, holding crystal glasses, ashing cigars. They're weren't a doctor's steady hand nor a survivalist's roughened tool. And while he sometimes wavered in his application of the gauze and wrapping, he always did so with that same cultured touch.

[Natora]

Duchess stayed silent as he walked around quietly and took care of the wound that had marred her near perfect skin. She gasped at the sting of the disinfectant and bit her lip after to keep herself as quiet as she could. Now that she had calmed down and her adrenaline was dying, her arm was starting to feel quite sore. She supposed to get away with just a sore arm after a gunman attacked you was pretty good considering what could have happened instead.

With the calmed nerves and the heightened feeling in her arm, she could feel how soft his hands were against her skin. It was strange that someone with a gravelly voice would be so soft. He surely hadn't been living here long. The house would require maintenance and upkeep and it was fairly obvious there wasn't staff. Doing those sorts of things dried a set of hands out...but not his. When he finished, softly her voice broke the silence with a gentle, "Thank you."

Slowly, almost hesitantly, with her uninjured arm, she raised her hand and put it near his hood, her intention clear in that she wanted to reveal more of him to her. Her gaze was soft and questioning. Would he let her do it? She wouldn't force him but she really did want to see more of him for the first time. He had let her see his eyes. Maybe he would let her see more.

[Juicesir]

He was just caught, like an animal in the headlights. No thoughts, no movement. He didn't make any motion to stop her.

The breath in his chest caught itself, and for just a moment he kinda felt happy. Relieved, almost. He waited.

[Natora]

Duchess took his permission and pushed the hood back and over his head. The mask still distorted much of her view of him. The top of his head didn't look all that strange except that he needed a bit of a hair cut. The part that still confused her was why he needed that medical mask. He hadn't required it before when they had first met and she wanted to see his face. All of it. That had been her entire purpose in doing this.

With tender and caring hands, she undid the mask and slowly slipped it off his face. Finally, she could see his whole face. It wasn't the most beautiful face she had ever seen. He had a few...imperfections on his face. Well they were rather large imperfections but they were still nothing to be embarrassed about. She took a deep breath and swallowed, a look of confusion and concern on her face. After a short moment of looking at his face, she gently asked, "Feels better like this, doesn't it?"

[Juicesir]

He laughed.

Through the gravel of his new voice, through the pain of being reminded how ugly he was with the mask off, through all of it, he suddenly just laughed. It sounded nothing like how he spoke. It was Gabriel's old laugh, a long unused, unheard thing.. but brighter. It was easy suits and walks on the beach, not the work and toil of his old life. It was something sincere.

He smiled, his upturned nose pulling at his lip, tearing the grimace of hesitation into a weird and strained smile that, for all his looks, was indeed genuine. "Feels better, probably looks like shit."

He sighed, the laugh trickling off into the stream of air being released. "You know," he began, "you don't have to say nice things."

He didn't quite know why he said it, and it didn't sound like anything bad. It came off as a bit silly, almost. He put his hand on the scruff of the back of his neck, looking down and away from her. Perhaps it was feeling suddenly at ease, almost forgetting everything. Perhaps it was the tiredness of the day's tolls finally easing out and he feeling just open. He didn't know why he said it. He just did.

[Natora]

Duchess laughed gently when he told her that she didn't have to say nice things. She shrugged and shook her head. "I like saying nice things," she pointed out to him. "And there really isn't anything to say that isn't nice," she added. She paused for a second and bit her lip. All she was thinking about was all the things that he had done for her so far. He had save her from a trio of thugs, men that broke into her apartment, and a shooter at her workplace. Was there anything he hadn't done to protect her? No.

"Paul... I just need to say thank you. Again. I really don't know how to repay you. You've saved my life over and over again. You are an incredible protector," she said to him gently. Standing slowly, she smiled to him and started walking away. "If you can think of any way I can repay you, let me know," she said softly. After a kind and relieved smile, she picked up the new laptop in hand and carried it up to her bedroom. She knew there was a lot of work that she had to get done and she needed to start on it, sooner than later. If Gabriel looked down at his wrist, the tattoo would now read "276".

As she worked into the evening, her thoughts kept going back to the man that had saved her a few times now. Perhaps his appearance was the reason that he kept hiding from her. Why would he be so concerned about that? It truly was not bad enough, she thought, that he should have to hide from her. What was he thinking it would protect?

[Juicesir]

"Just keep being you, champ," he whispered once she was out of sight.

And then she was gone. He knew she was still here, but her presence wasn't by him. She was gone, momentarily, and he was back. The horrible reality of him was remembered, having been forgotten for most of the day. It wasn't even that he felt normal while she was around. The normal that he was used to was in deals and wine and fine dining. And that had changed. His normal was the tearing, gripping feeling out of control of himself. He looked down at the tattoo on his hand, the constant reminder of his non normalcy.

That night, he made a couple of calls and began to set a plan in motion. She had been treated like a prisoner thus far, or very close to it. It was time to liven things up, make her feel more the way he felt when she was around him.

[Natora]

When the sun started to set, Duchess started to realise how hungry she was. She smirked a bit as she realised she was becoming a workaholic. There was nothing she wanted more than to keep this business alive and running well. It was up to her and not being able to be there in the center of the action was going to change a few things. She had left an email for her assistant telling him to refer all of her calls to email instead and the correspondence would be by email until further notice.

As her stomach grumbled again, she closed the laptop and wandered downstairs and into the kitchen. She smirked as she remembered that Paul could probably hear and see everything she did from his special room. "Paul, are you hungry?" she asked into the fridge loud enough that she was sure at least one microphone from around the house would pick it up. She looked through the fridge and decided on some sort of chicken for tonight. Maybe chicken parmesan? "I'll make dinner for both of us," she offered and pulled a bottle of wine out of the fridge and set it on the counter beside her.

[Juicesir]

"Paul, are you hungry?" A buxom Lyn clad only in an apron now approached him with plate full of Crabouillabaisse and a bottle of '98 Rioja Reserva. She smiled, leaning down, and...

Gabriel snorted himself awake, twisting his head in a shaking motion. "Jesus, now you're having dreams about her." He wiped the momentary sleep from his eyes, realizing finally that the voice had come from one of the loudspeakers in the monitoring room he was in. He hadn't been watching her, but this was the only place he really had of his own now.

He decided to go help her. He saw how she cooked, and she could probably use a hand. Rousing himself, he went upstairs, maskless, hoodless. Just Paul. Simple, protector Paul.

"Hey, why don't we make dinner together? What were you thinking?"

[Natora]

Duchess near jumped out of her skin when he came up behind her. She hadn't been expecting to see him. She had been expecting to hear him on a speaker. The smile on her face said he was welcome here, though, in her space. It was good to see him without him trying to hide himself. It made her feel good to know that she had helped bring him out of his shell. Nodding, she said, "Sure. If you want to help. I was going to make chicken parmesan with noodles and peppers. Sound good?"

Without waiting for an answer, since that was what she was going to make for herself regardless, she started pulling out the rest of the ingredients for the chicken recipe from the fridge and then went to the counter to start seasoning the chicken. "If you want you could start a pot of boiling water for the noodles," she suggested.

[Juicesir]

"Sorry." He snuck the apology in once he realized he had scared her. "That sounds good." From one of the cabinets, he withdrew one of the many pots that had come with his blowout buying up of essentially an entire Walmart. While he had not owned the house for long, he had stocked it well with various buys from the surrounding states (nothing purchased in state for fear of easily being able to be tracked).

Chicken parmesan, how gallant. Shut up. The voice in his head was becoming really annoying. Screw you. The pot was overflowing with hot water, and somewhat scalded his hand.

"Damnit. Gah." Turning off the hot water, he emptied out the pot a bit. "Alright, anything else I can do?"

[Natora]

She looked over quickly when he swore, worried and curious to see what he had done. When she saw it was his hands, she frowned gently, worried that he had burned himself. "Are you all right?" she asked gently. "I'll be fine without any help. Really. Go take care of your hands. All there is left to do is put the chicken in the oven and make the peppers. That's easy," she said to him, hoping to convince him the truth. She had cooked thousands of times on her own. It would be easy enough to do again.

The next half hour she was in the kitchen working on dinner. It was one of her favourite meals and quite easy to make. While she was cooking, she was thinking about work. What else would she think about? There were deals that needed to go through and requests she needed to read and agree to. There was a lot to do. She wasn't sure if she would get it all done in time but she would do her best as she always did.

[Juicesir]

Honestly, the burn wasn't that bad. Steam burns rarely were, though they certainly didn't feel like that in the first moments. A little redness, but no swelling. A good sign. He rubbed some ointment from the medical kit onto the sorest part, and then went to do a perimeter check.

This part of Virginia was beautiful this time of year, and the little island was gorgeous. October was coming, and the bite of cold was beginning to dance along the leaves, making them blush and shiver in the wind. The smell of summer bonfires turned to fond memory as the campers and visitors the area often drew went back to their schools and jobs. It was a subtle time of change, and as Gabriel stalked the island, he soaked in the smell of it all.

It was an odd thing, to be forced to find someone to love. And if he was being honest with himself, he didn't know if Lyn was the one. Sure, yes, they'd been through a lot. There was no denying that. And if he thought about it too long, he realized that the prospect of saving her life, not once, not even twice, but multiple times was amazing. As was the fact that despite looking at him, and seeing his eyes and his face, he was still a stranger to her.

It was the most peculiar sensation to look into the face of someone you knew and know they did not know you.

But then, maybe that's how Lyn had always felt at work.

He'd never really considered it, nor had he ever really thought about why he'd asked Lyn to come with him to dinner that one day so long ago. Or why he'd saved her life. Or why she was cooking dinner, and he, her now self-appointed superhero guardian, was stalking the island for her own safety. The whole thing was ludicrous. His thoughts spun in his head, bouncing against walls. For half an hour he was lost to them, with one question remaining.

What am I doing?

Eventually he found himself on the dock, shoes off, toes barely dipped in the frigid lake water. it felt nice, and it was beautiful with the sun setting. Gabriel was lost. But perhaps that wasn't so bad.

[Natora]

In the kitchen, she was stirring the peppers methodically, not thinking about the work presently in front of her. Her thoughts had migrated from work to something more nearby. Paul. She had to wonder what had happened to him to give those boils around his face and everywhere else, so she assumed. Was it an accident at a place he worked? Was he born with them? What did he do for work that he could afford this beautiful house in the middle of an island. There were so many questions she had but she didn't dare ask them.

The hissing sound of water boiling over snapped her out of her thoughts and she realised that the water from the noodles was boiling over. Quickly she turned the water down and put a wooden spoon over the pot to stop the boiling from going crazy. With a small sigh she checked on the chicken. Everything would be done shortly as she took the peppers off the stovetop and they just had to wait for the noodles and chicken. She knew that Gabriel was outside and both things had five minutes to go so she knew she had time to get him.

Without another thought, she quickly left the house and looked around to see where he might be. She found him rather quickly on the pier, shoes off and watching the sun set. She walked to the edge of the pier but stayed off the wooden dock. "Paul. Dinner's ready," she said softly to him, not wanting to startle him at all. "Want to come in and eat?" With the sun setting, the evening chill was starting to bite her uncovered skin in the evening air. She was hoping that he would agree quickly and they could go back inside and eat in the warm comfort of the home that they currently shared.

[Juicesir]

He let out a brief sigh as the sun dipped below the ridge of the Virginia hills. "Sure."

It seemed almost too normal. Familial. Here they were having dinner, how lovely. His former secretary turned assassination target eating with her now deformed and monstrous boss. How lovely.

They departed the pier together like, with that space between them that strangers often held. As they made the short trek back up to the house, his mind spun recklessly around its holdings. He realized suddenly how little he knew about her.

"Hey Lyn." The phrase came so easily to his tongue, he'd said it so many times. "Did you ever go camping, or fishing, or anything?"

[Natora]

Lyn hesitated when he asked her a question, instead of leading him, slowing enough that she was walking next to him again more as a friend than as a stranger. She smiled gently. It had been a long time since any man had asked her anything about her personal life. For a moment, she didn't know how to react. Should she simply answer him or should she answer and then ask a question? Was there a certain question that she should ask or that she should avoid? Was there actually a reason that she was trying to overanalyze this situation. Just answer him!

"I uh... I go camping with my family every summer. My parents have a cabin out on Lake Louise in Canada. They like to go more often but I go once a year. Well... I did. When I started working for Mr. Wechsler, I had too much to do. I haven't been out there in a few years now," she said with a shrug. "Work trumping play all the time," she added with a small laugh.

She paused, not entirely sure of what to maybe ask him about himself. Was the topic about why he was slightly disfigured completely off topic? Should she even try to bring it up? "Have you had this house for a while? It's beautiful out here," she told him with a small smile. "I've always like the woods."

[Juicesir]

I am a fucking piece of shit. It was the first time Gabriel had really every had that thought about his life. Certainly, his current looks left something to be desired, and he had reamed himself for that one nearly every chance he got. And yes, there were times in recent memory where he recalled feeling bad for his past actions, but this... he just felt like crap.

"No." It came off as very brusque. He backpedaled. "I mean, I haven't had it that long. A... a friend of mine left it to me. In a will." That was the best backstory he could make up for it on the fly. It'd probably lead to more questions from her, but they were near enough to the door that it didn't really matter. Progressing conversation across thresholds had always seemed taboo to him, and he hoped that helped him here.

Despite his previous disdain for her cooking, the smell that greeted him as he opened the door was delicious, he had to admit. "That smells really good."

[Natora]

As they came to walk into the house, Lyn gently commented, "I'm sorry about your friend," and said no more on the topic. A beautiful smile lit her face when he commented about the smell of her cooking. It really felt good to make something that could be appreciated by others. She had pulled out the plates but waited for him to serve herself before she got her own food and followed him to sit at the table so they could eat.

Her arm was still dully sore but it was going away a bit at a time. Bit by bit she was able to focus on other things other than what had happened today. With a deep sigh as the memory haunted her again for a moment, she started to eat the dinner. "So, was the mask for a medical reason or was it just to try and hide?" she asked him curiously.

[Juicesir]

Welp, looks like we're doing this now.

He stopped midbite, but only for a moment, and then kept chewing.

"I don't, uh... it's a disease. Not infectious. No known cure. It's hard to explain." He was trying not to be short. Be short, and you invite more questions, or worse, cause someone to think they never can talk about it. And as hard as it was for him to really talk about something without talking about something, he felt alright talking to her about it.

"It's just... I don't look the best, heh." He chuckled a bit. The pasta was really quite good. There was a way that food somehow tasted different when someone cared about making it. He remembered the last time he had shared a meal with Lyn. Boy what a different world they were in now.

[Natora]

Lyn laughed gently when he chuckled at his own joke about him not looking good. As she looked at him, there really wasn't anything too horrible about it. "I've seen much worse," she said to him gently. "Really. It's not that bad. You shouldn't have to hide," she said softly. "That's no way for anyone to live," she said to him.

She finished her dinner rather quickly. Getting up, she took her dishes to the sink and then pulled out the ice cream from the freezer. She grabbed two bowls for them and took it to the table with spoons. "Want some?" she asked. "After a rough day and all." She opened the ice cream and went to scoop some into each of their bowls. When she tried with her regular arm, she grunted in pain from the wound from the grazing bullet. She shook her head and tried, with a fair bit of difficulty, to use her other hand. After struggling for a little bit, she got one scoop out into one bowl with a happy sigh that she had managed it.

[Juicesir]

"You shouldn't have to hide," she said softly.

Except from you.

It was scratching at the back of his mind, it had been for quite some time. It wasn't his disfigurement that was the reason for his hiding; he still worried Lyn would recognize him.

She watched Lyn take her dishes away, and soon followed suite after a moment of private reflection. She asked him if he wanted ice cream. "Yeah, that sounds good." She was already getting the ice cream, already heading for the scoop. Her intimacy, her familiarity with the kitchen, it was reassuring. She was just traipsing through here like she knew it, like it was hers.

Like it was theirs.

She was struggling hard with her wound. He sighed sympathetically. "Here." He went up beside her, a little behind her, and put his hand over hers as it held the scoop. Supplementing her strength, he helped guide her and scoop the rest of the ice cream.

He didn't know why he didn't just ask for the scoop himself. Perhaps he wanted her to feel like she still had control, that she could do things. He didn't want to take that away from her. And there was another bit as well... her hand felt soft beneath his. I mean, his were soft. The only thing hard about them were the back of them, his knuckles still a little bloodied and scratched. But his palm, underneath his fingers, was a lifetime of lifting pens and shaking hands. Smooth.

And hers were too.

[Natora]

Lyn was surprised by his sudden presence at her side. Though she wasn't expecting it, his hand on hers was warm and welcome. She found herself smiling quite contentedly with him so close to her. He had been her secret protector for so long and it seemed that now he was just protecting her again but in a different way, from a pain that was part of her now temporarily. When he helped her, her breath was slightly more shallow and she could feel her cheeks warm ever so slightly. Her heart picked up slightly as he helped her scoop them both a much more decent bowl of ice cream than a single half scoop.

When they were done, her smile turned into a gentle laugh. "Thank you. I guess it's just.... a... little fresh," she said softly. She didn't make a move to get away from him, quite enjoying the proximity to someone who was so kind to her. "Maybe some strawberries and we could eat it outside?" she asked him softly, her voice a little more breathy than it normally was. It had been many, many months since she had had a man this close, let alone a date with someone. This was a welcome change from her normal place. She moved their hands to put the spoon in one of the bowls and then put the lid back on the ice cream so it could go away.

[Juicesir]

His breath was catching, his mind was racing through ever foggier thoughts. Shit, he hadn't felt like this since he was with his first girl.

Wow, his first girl, what a lay. Cabo was beautiful that evening.

Oh my god, seriously? Get it to-fuckin-gether Gabe.

And there was Duchess. Lyn Lyn Lyn. Asking him to come outside for strawberries and ice cream, sitting in the Virginia night.

"Sure." His voice sounded nothing like that of the CEO who had once forced her and a friend to come to dinner with him. It wasn't the voice of the man who had convinced said friend that she should come back to his place. He didn't even remember her name. Nor did his voice remember the way it sounded when they had been hunted by those gunmen earlier today. It was simple. Normal. It sounded normal in the most encouraging way possible.

Gabriel swallowed a lump in his throat.

"There's berries in the fridge." No shit Sherlock. Of course she fucking knew that, she had just prepared dinner essentially from scratch. Seriously, where is your mind.

Fuck off. Just fuck off. He was losing it in a weird way. Just keep it together man. Berries, fridge. Go there. Get em. He moved to the fridge, momentarily departed from Lyn's side, which felt suddenly very far away. Getting them out, he brought them over.

[Natora]

The warmth of his body was suddenly gone and she felt like she could catch her breath and took a moment to get another spoon so that each dish would have one. She also grabbed a small knife that she could cut up the strawberries when he brought them back. The small smile from when he said that they were in the fridge grew. It was adorable that he was stating the obvious in some capacities. When he brought them back, she gently took them from him and said, "Thank you," in a soft voice that he hadn't heard from her before. Her voice had always been desperate because she needed help from Paul or business like since she was working for Gabriel. It had only been soft when he had been helping to wrap up her arm and now.

She cut up about five strawberries for each bowl before handing the container back to him. "You know, we could grow our own berries. They're really easy to grow and they would taste so much better," she said to him gently with a small smile. If they were stuck on this island, not that Lyn really wanted to leave anymore, then it might do if they could grow some things for themselves.

After waiting for him to put the berries and ice cream away, she carried both bowls outside for them and sat on the edge of the porch, watching the last of the sunset that they could see. She took a few bites of the ice cream and then looked down at the bowl. "I really should thank you more. I know that you say that you don't want anything for a reward or anything but there must be something that I can do for you, in any capacity," she said softly. "Do you want a new truck or something?" she asked with a small laugh.

[Juicesir]

He laughed along with her. "No, that's alright." He followed her out. "You don't have to do anything like that."

The sat, eating their treat, as the last of the sun trickled down across the rim of the world. For the first time in a long while, he was content with everything. He struck his spoon into the ice cream... and a tattoo caught his eye.


300

300. It seemed a long while was still ahead of him. And time seemed to slow at those words. Gabriel spent the rest of the evening drinking the sight of his contentment in.




261

The days sped by, and with October came a coolness to the Virginia air. It was a bite, not harming, but still present. You could feel it in your lungs. Winter was coming, but today, this eve, a great spectacle was happening all around them.

Halloween.

Gabriel had been thinking about it for a while. It'd been quite some time since they'd been off the island and out of the area. He'd been keeping an eye on Lyn's wound; it'd done well. Worry still was very present upon his mind, but today, for some reason, he was feeling charitable.

"Hey Lyn." It was after lunch, he had tried his hand at preparing a salad. It hadn't been very good, but then he still wasn't very good at preparing meals. Not like her. "I was thinking... do you, maybe, wanna go out tonight?"

He said it as casually as he could. They'd been getting along quite well, at least from his perspective. No rows, no big issues. They'd settled in. Maybe it was time, just this once, to let loose a little.

[Natora]

Most days, now that Lyn had a way to work while she was there, she spent at least ten hours working and then another hour making food for them. She had come to the understanding that Paul wasn't the best cook but he was more than willing to learn and help her get through the nights so that she wasn't doing it on her own. It had been a long and hard haul but she hadn't had a desire to leave the island to do anything.

Lyn looked up from her computer as he spoke up to her. When he asked if she wanted to leave the island tonight, a bit of fear flashed across her eyes. The only other time she had left the island, she had been shot at. It was Hallowe'en though, and as terrible as this was to admit, she could understand his want to go out on a night like tonight. She was sure there was something that she could turn into a costume around here.

"Sure," she said still feeling uneasy about it. "Where did you want to go?" she asked, turning back to her computer to quickly finish the email she had started.

[Juicesir]

"Not sure yet." He caught the fear that now raised itself in her. It was a tensing of her posture, the shortness of her speech. He'd come to expect it. It was interesting how you began to read people after a while.

"You know, we don't have to go out." It was so cavalier. He felt bad for her, he didn't want to force her to do anything. "I just thought you might like it. Or not."

He shrugged. "We can celebrate here. Or whatever. I don't even know if you celebrate Halloween."

Wow, good, off to a good start. He was about to start digging himself into an awkward hole so he stopped. Who doesn't celebrate Halloween after all?

[Natora]

"No," she said quickly. "We should go out. Get us both a bit of fresh air," she insisted. She finished the email and closed down the work for the day. "People go out to parties on Hallowe'en, right? I have a friend who has been wanting to get together for a while now. She's probably partying somewhere. We could join her," she suggested. She hadn't seen Chelsea in a long time and it was time she started playing with her old friends again.

"I'll go put something together," she said, feeling a little more at ease and excited now that she thought she would be able to see her friend again. While she was in her room, trying to find a costume, she thought about what they could be together. A funny idea crossed her mind. She found a dress that would work and then went down to the kitchen to grab an apron and tied it on as well. She found Paul again and blushed lightly embarrassed about her idea. "Paul, would you want to go as Beauty and the Beast from the Disney movie?" she asked. She now felt like it was a ridiculous idea. Shaking her head, she blushed worse. "I'm sorry. That was a terrible idea."

[Juicesir]

Her mood turned right around. That was nice. He paid little mind to the friend comment, and more to her saying she would go put something together.

In truth, their little island was well stocked with both clothes and other necessities. But as he rummaged through the list in his mind of just what exactly he had on this rock, he couldn't think of anything costumey. He had a couple suits, various colors, there was the medical mask, but that wasn't very festive. Too normal with them. He was wondering if they might be able to stop by a shop on the way to wherever they were going when-

"Paul," it still took him a moment to respond to that name. "Would you want to go as Beauty and the Beast from the Disney movie?" He turned and looked at her.

"Huh." It was all he really managed to say. She stared backpedaling. "No no, no, no! It's not bad! Better'n anything I had in mind. Sure! I think I've actually got a blue suit. No clue what I'm gonna use for a hairpiece or anything." He scratched at his mask, contemplative.

I really gotta stop thinking out loud. It's awkward.

[Natora]

The blue dress flowed beautifully around her as she walked over to him quickly, the white blouse and blue dress matching what Belle wore at the beginning of the movie perfectly. "You really don't need to wear this when it's just us. Or ever," she said softly. She put her hands on the mask and took it off for him. She reached up gently and put a soft hand on his cheek. "It's not useful for anything but hiding," she pointed out to him as if he might not already know.

"Go find that blue suit. I'll find something that you can use for your hair," she said to him. "If you want, you could try the cape and pants that he wears in the beginning instead of the suit," she offered. "I don't think I could find a yellow ballgown," she observed with a gentle laugh. Taking her hand back, she turned and left, going to find something and quickly sending her friend an email to let her know that she was coming back to town.

[Juicesir]

Maybe I wanna hide. God the voice in his head was getting childish. And if that voice was a voice, then what was this one.

Sometimes, honestly, Gabriel confused himself a lot. Wasn't his fault. This was a confusing situation. He was reminded of that on a near daily basis. But some days... some days he and Lyn would just live and smile and talk a bit, and she would make the food, and he would try to keep them safe. And those days were good. He cherished them.

His feet carried himself automatically up to his room. There, he had a line of suits. The blue one certainly wasn't appropriate. Three button, not nearly the kind in the movie. Wouldn't work at all. The cape and pants idea might work, but to be honest he wasn't a big fan of all the tattoos and scars all over his body being exposed like that.

"Fuck it."

He got out spare curtains. He'd bought a few, and one of them looked to be about the right color that that cape had been in the movie. It'd been a while since he'd seen it. Burgundy? Kinda purple? Something like that. Gabriel removed his shirt and pants. With no mirror in the room, he simply eyeballed the length of the curtain on his body. It was a bit long, but it would do. He found a gold cufflink with a large round front and, placing it through one of the curtain's holes, fastened it around his neck.

The cape sort of covered most of him, and the pants were long enough too. He figured it would do, so he proceeded downstairs.

"Hey Lyn, give it a look." He was hesitant, but also out of cares to give at this point.

[Natora]

Lyn was waiting for him in the living room, flipping through a book looking very Belle like with her hair now pulled back as well. When she heard him ask how he looked, she first thought that it was a very girly question to be asking someone. A smirk on her face, she looked up at him. It surprised her greatly that he had chosen to go without the shirt and take the first outfit the beast had worn.

Smiling softly at his bravery, she only took a moment to look at his torso that was peaking through the "cape". Lyn got up from the couch and walked over to him. "You look perfect," she said with a smile. "Now come on," she said excitedly, taking his hand and going to the door. "Chelsea is way too excited that we're going to go out with her," she said happily. She put on some shoes with a small heel and waited for him to put on shoes as well before bounding happily out the door and towards the pier so that they could go to the shoreline and head towards town.

While they were in the boat travelling across the beautiful waters that were now ice cold, she looked to Paul. He was such a good man and so wonderful at not wanting to have her get hurt. It was endearing and something no man had ever really shown her before. "Thank you, Paul. You're very brave. I wouldn't go out if I wasn't with you," she told him honestly, her voice soft and caring.

[Juicesir]

"Chelsea is way too excited that we're going to to out with her."

Chelsea.

Chelsea.

Chelsea.

Chelsea.

Chelsea.

"Uuuhhh..." While she was putting on her shoes, he quickly said, "I'm gonna go get a shirt it might be cold." Literally that sentence sounded crazy with how fast he had said it, but there it was. He grabbed white button-up, and ran downstairs.

"Alrighty!" He slipped on some sandals.

Gabriel was suddenly, and amazingly, self-conscious. Moreso than he ever had been. All his little, tiny, insecurities, the ones that had been building slowly over the last year and a half? Yeah, those were pretty big now. He walked on autopilot down to the boat with her. She was practically skipping she was so happy.

God damn it, he could really use a drink right now. Or a nap. Or anything else. Not this. It had been so good, literally moments before. Everything was fine, they were gonna go out, and now Chelsea...

"Oh?"

She'd said something. And from the look on her face it was something meaningful. He'd caught the last of it, about going out. Her voice was the light quality.

Get your shit together Paul.

My name is Gabriel.

Whatever.

He smiled. Taking a deep, calming breath. "Of course, it's no problem." That wasn't right response. He could tell, despite his effort, it wasn't right. But he kept on breathing. Just getting away from his own mind right now. "You look really nice, by the way." It was an add-on to distract from his stupid comment, but meant it. She really did look nice.

They landed at the pier, him helping her out, and soon enough they were on the road.

[Natora]

Lyn laughed gently and shook her head. He was obviously distracted by something but didn't want to share what it was. She left it alone and let them travel in the silence to the other side of the lake that surrounded them. She took his hand for help getting out. She knew that he was right about it possibly getting cold but he still didn't really need the shirt that he had gotten. He had a curtain. Wasn't that good enough?

As they drove towards the city, closer to their destination, she was getting more and more excited about the evening out, any worries she had about what might happen while they were out dissipated with the miles that they placed between them and the house. With what had happened before, she knew that he would protect her no matter the situation. It made her feel safe no matter what.

"We're going to the Locale," she said to him, naming a nightclub that was popular in town. "She said that there's a great Hallowe'en party planned there."

[Juicesir]

"Great." Forced neutrality, try to sound like it isn't a big deal.

Like there isn't some great drama about to bleed out of your fucking skull concerning the fact that you're driving your former secretary who doesn't know it's you to meet her friend that you previously banged... who will probably not know you either.

It's finally. Totally kosher.

He drove with determination. He'd been to the Locale. It was where peasants and peons went to play, he'd once joked in a board meeting, where the downscale pretended to be upscale and all the girls in short dresses tried for climb the corporate ladder outside of the work place. He had disdain for the place naturally built into him, but it was Lyn's type of place. No, not type. It was Lyn's night. She was going out with her friend. Her friend he definitely hadn't slept with. That one. And it was going to be a good night.

In a desperate gambit to try and seem calm he missed the turn. "Shit, sorry." It'd be another block before he made it again. "So you and this friend, how far back do you guys go?"

[Natora]

She watched him, curious and confused as he missed the turn. What on earth was distracting him so badly? There was something, that much was obvious. If there wasn't something distracting him, he might have actually made the turn, tried to hold some semblance of conversation on the drive, among other things.

"Don't worry about it. Another two minutes won't kill us," she said with a small smirk. When he asked about her friend, she had to think about it before she answered. "I believe it was grade 9 that we first met. We were and still are very different people but for some reason we just clicked. Don't worry. You'll like her. She's really fun and nothing like me," she said with a gentle laugh.

For just the briefest moment, a very strange thought crossed her mind. But if you like a person like her, then how could you like a person like me? The thought made her slightly sad for the moment she thought it before she decided to perk up again quickly. She was about to see her best friend! After being locked away for about a month, she was finally going to see a friend who she adored. When they parked outside, Lyn immediately saw Chelsea. She was dressed in a very tight fitting, revealing, cat woman costume. It was exactly the kind of thing Lyn expected to see her friend in. "Come on," she said before jumping out of the truck.

The girls ran up to each other, hugging warmly after not having seen each other in so long. "Where have you been?" Chelsea demanded. "I've been worried sick over you," she insisted, a little upset that Lyn hadn't even taken the moment to call.

"I'm sorry," Lyn quickly apologized. "You've seen what's been going on. My new friend was just trying to keep me safe," she said and turned to where Paul had parked the truck, expecting to see him walk over so she could make proper introductions.

[Juicesir]

"Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit shit. Okay." Paul breathed out. No, wait. Gabriel breathed out. God damn it. He had to be Paul here, he wasn't Gabriel. He didn't know this person, her name wasn't Chelsea, they hadn't screwed, they hadn't totally boned. Nope. None of that. It was fine. He was Paul. Just some guy, who took a large interest in Lyn and saving her ass, on the regular, for no discernible reason.

His exit from the truck was a beat after Lyn had motioned to it. Just a little late, but not late enough to be awkward. Late enough that Chelsea could probably squint at him and see straight through his dumb little costume that he was a CEO of a sinking corporation that she had once had sex. Yup. Okay, get it together.

He walked over, smiled uneasily. "Hey, nice party." He found himself subtly altering the way he talked. It wasn't that noticeable, but he was now purposefully talking different than he ever had around her. Not that he really recalled how he had talked to her.

Condescendingly. Arrogantly. Like a douche.

Alright, so don't talk to her like a douche.

He smiled, more easily, end extended his hand to Chelsea. "Hi, my name is Paul."

Off to a good start.

[Natora]

Chelsea looked at him, judging him up and down. It was clear that she didn't like him right away. She reached out and took his hand none the less. "Chelsea," she returned almost coldly. "So you're the one that has been keeping my best friend locked up like a prisoner?" she asked a little harshly.

Lyn smacked her. "Chels, stop. He's been keeping me safe which is more than anyone else has been able to do. Be nice," she stipulated.

Chelsea didn't seem convinced. "Fine. But he still should let you out more. It's like you're a child and he's your parent. You've been grounded way too long," she tried before changing her attitude. "But you're out now so we're going to party like we didn't get to for your birthday!" she said excitedly before grabbing her hand and pulling her into the club at the head of the line.

Lyn threw back an apologetic look to Paul and reached for his hand to drag him in with her. She wasn't leaving him behind no matter how much Chelsea wanted her to.

[Juicesir]

He let his hand be taken, and it was the world for him.

He quickly recalled the last time someone had touched him with such genuine care. A coffin, a stoic silence, and a hand rested upon his shoulder. When people said what sense they would lose if they had to have one taken, touch was always somehow one of the first. Yet the importance of it, the sheer subtle magnitude of feeling another person, could not be overstated.

"She's got a point." He didn't say more than that as they entered the fray of party-goers and costumed delights. Didn't want to ruin the mood or anything. Nothing worse than a buzzkill. But he did want to note, for the record, that Chelsea had a point.

It had gotten to him. While half-clothed girls with cat ears in lingerie and guys with dumb and inappropriate costumes began to rapidly be the normal attire, he thoughts about what Lyn's life might be like were he not such a bitch about keeping her exiled.

Probably dead.

So far, party off to a good start mentally. When did he become such an asshole?

[Natora]

Chelsea stole Lyn onto the dance floor after the three of them had found a table. Lyn sent an apologetic look to Paul as she ran out onto the dance floor after her friend, just trying not to trip over her own feet. She looked very odd out on the dance floor. Her movements were smooth enough but she was the only girl in the entire club that wasn't showing as much skin as she could muster without being indecent. Even Chelsea had chosen something a little on the skanky side.

It didn't take long but men started pushing up on Chelsea and after some convincing, she went off and danced with one of them finally. Lyn, very tired from all the dancing, wandered back and found Paul again. "Well, she's finally sated for the moment," she said with a small laugh. "Do you want to go dance?" she asked him gently. There was no reason that he should be sitting here on his own but Lyn knew that Chelsea had wanted some girl time just the two of them. Now that she had had it, she wouldn't be so suffocating.

[Juicesir]

"Sure," he said, bobbing his head in a nod, "yeah." He got up and accompanied her to the dance floor.

Everything was heady. Lyn wasn't the world's best dancer, but there was still an enjoyment he took in watching her. Sure, she wasn't as slutted up as the rest of the girls. Or Chelsea, for that matter. Man Chelsea looked good. He was having flashbacks to when that night they'd spent together after leaving Lyn...

...after leaving Lyn. What sort of an asshole was he? Here, Lyn had been nothing but nice. Even when it was obvious Chelsea didn't want Paul here, Lyn had been persistent. She cared. And of what worth was he, Gabriel, to deserve that sort of attention? Sure, it'd been a while. Things were different. Real different. But he couldn't help feel hesitation.

Hesitating all the time these days. He was tired of it. He led the way to the dance floor and began to just let loose. The song playing was something catchy and kind of quick. To be honest, he was surprised Lyn wanted to go out on the floor again. "Aren't you tired?" he called over the cacophony of modern rhythms.

[Natora]

Lyn's smile grew when he said he would come with her to dance. It was wonderful. She was able to let loose for a night and not have to worry about the company that she was running for pocket change, the people who were after her, nothing. She got to worry about only herself and her friends as she had the time of her life. It was a beautiful thing.

She danced with Paul, a very kind man she knew that had saved her life hundreds of times and was now seeming to be able to let loose a little bit. She found it very amusing that he was checking out Chelsea. It wasn't like she hadn't noticed the fleeting looks men always gave her best friend. They were always happening. When he turned his attention back to her, though, she acted as if she never knew a thing.

"Tired? No! It's my only night out for a while! I have to take advantage," she explained as she muted her unique dance moves just so she could explain to him. She extended her arms and did a spin but as she did, she hit someone on the nose. She gasped and covered her mouth as she jumped back from the person and was now touching her back to Paul's front. "I'm so sorry!" she called to the stranger above the noise. The stranger shook his head, looking annoyed but walked away, allowing Lyn to giggle at her slight mishap.

[Juicesir]

Gabriel momentarily stopped dancing his white boy shuffle as well. For a moment, he also gasped, and then let out a laugh. "Jesus Lyn." He was chuckling. He'd never seen her just go at it like this. It was a side of her he liked. "Do you always hit people in the face while dancing or this is a special occasion?" It had the same sort of flirty tone he used with Chelsea once, though much less sleazy. At least, he liked to think it was much less sleazy. Perhaps he was just as sleazy as he'd always been.

Nope, nope, get back to dancing. Thus, he began to shake it once more, now firmly aware that eyes were upon them. Probably due to their awesome dance skills. Maybe also because it looked like that guy might have had a bloody nose. Who could say for sure?

[Natora]

She turned back to him, blushing rather well and biting her lip as she continued to dance with him so she didn't stick out too much like a sore thumb. "Be nice," she chastised, just as flirty, however. She had started to like Paul and now that he was gently flirting back all the previous looks he had given to Chelsea were far from her mind as well. "Maybe if someone was willing to help me dance better I wouldn't hit people in the face," she invited with a smirk on her face.

She had always liked dancing but she wasn't so foolish as to think that she was any good at it. Before Paul had a chance to take her up on her offer, though, Chelsea was back and hugging Lyn again. "Ohhh, I'm so glad you're out!" she said again excitedly before dancing with the two of them again.

[Juicesir]

Great. Chelsea had officially gone from someone he'd like to fuck to someone he'd just rather be gone. It was an odd reversal. He didn't linger too much on it.

What he did linger on was Lyn's small flirting. Tonight it seemed she was a different sort of person. He liked it a lot. Right now, he only had eyes for Lyn.

Dancing closer to her then to Chelsea was both safe and preferable. He still had a lump in his throat over worrying that Chelsea might actually recognize him. It'd be a hard thing to do, given the circumstances. He was, after all, dressed pretty ridiculously. "Good party," he heard himself say. What was he, a freshman at a frat house? God damn it. Despite his best efforts, some ingrained habits of speech always seemed to linger.

[Natora]

After a few more songs, Chelsea had to step in. She stepped close to Lyn and asked, "Can I steal your man for a second? I promise I'll bring him right back," she insisted. Lyn knew that there wasn't really any arguing with her so she shrugged her consent and, as Chelsea took Paul's arm to lead him away, followed them off the dance floor to a table so she could rest for just a little bit.

Chelsea took Paul and led him to the quietest part of the club she could find where they could still see Lyn. "So who are you?" she asked him bluntly. "I feel like I should know you somehow. You're very familiar but I've never known a guy named Paul in my entire life," she assured him.

[Juicesir]

Your man. Interesting turn of phrase. No time for wondering, as now it appeared that the thing he'd been dreading all evening was finally upon him. Thankfully, he was prepared.

"Honestly?" He settled on an earnest tone, one conveying of being forced to tell an unpleasant truth. "We met at the shelter where she works at. She helped me get back on my feet. I dunno if you ever went there with her, but you might've seen me." He pointed at the more grotesque features of his person. "I'm not..." he sighed, feeling the weight of the disgust he held at his own body falling over him, "I'm not, uh, exactly the most normal looking guy around, you know?"

[Natora]

Chelsea looked at him confused for a minute. "You mean that's not a... Oh... I'm so sorry. I...I guess I haven't seen you around before," she agreed gently, trying not to offend him really. She had thought the whole thing was part of his get up, a more modern twist on the beast from the movie Lyn was obviously portraying.

Most of the men around seemed to be eyeing up women other than Lyn. Let's face it. In a bar setting most men wanted something easy and sleazy. Lyn was dressed as neither of those things so she happily sat with her water and drank. That is...almost all the men weren't eyeing her up. There was one, dressed as some Greek or Roman gladiator type, that seemed to only have eyes for her as well...but in a different way than Gabriel did.

When he finally spotted her alone, he made his way up to her table and sat down in front of her without an invitation. "Lyn. Haven't seen or heard from you in a while," he said, his tone easily one that was attempting to impress her. "Where have you been hiding your pretty little body from me?" he asked as if he was hurt. It was obvious that he had been drinking a bit and when Lyn saw him, she near choked on her water.

"Simon!" she finally managed to choke out after a moment's hesitation. "What...What are you doing here?" she asked him curiously, trying to keep the conversation light.

"It's Hallowe'en, Lyn! Everyone's out here for a good time. I'm glad to see you came to join the party. Been missing me, I bet," he said, overly flattering himself.

Chelsea sighed and shifted almost uncomfortably before looking back where Lyn was sitting. When she saw who was sitting with her, she swore. "Oh shit," she growled before running back to the table, Paul's recent confession lost in the wind. "Simon. What are you doing here? I'm sorry we weren't at Ric's. We went early and decided to come here after," she said as sweetly as she could.

[Juicesir]

Relief, sweet and low, swept over him and Chelsea's reaction. He'd always had an easy time of playing her, it seemed. He was just glad that this time it was for the right reasons. He couldn't imagine what sort of mess would unfold if Chelsea discovered who he really was. It'd be worse than if Lyn discovered who he was.

Speaking of Lyn, there was some guy dressed like freaking Hercules or something at her table. Who was this guy? Gabriel walked over to him. While Gabriel himself wasn't the largest person in the world, hours of boredom and being invisible had allowed him time to do some buffing up. He approached the table subdued for right now. No need to get Wolverine on this joker just yet.

"Hey," directed at Lyn, "everything alright?" It wasn't menacing or anything. Just a checkup. Yeah. Seeing how she was doing. Was she having a good time at the party? Was she feeling well? Did she want him to break this Greco-Roman asshole in half of over the back of his leg? You know. Innocent questions.

[Natora]

Simon didn't seem upset by the fact that they weren't at Ric's but he did choose to comment on it. "Well when I drove by your vehicle wasn't there. I drove around, hoping I would find you two," he said though it was obvious he didn't really care about Chelsea. He kept his eyes on Lyn and when the new guy walked up he looked up at him and scoffed. "And what are you supposed to be? A bear in a suit?" he asked, laughing at his own joke while he took a drink from his cup. "Come on, Lyn. Enough talk. Let's go dance," he said standing and putting hand on hers.

Lyn pulled her hand back quickly and leaned towards Paul. "Actually, I'm here with my boyfriend. I should really stick to dancing with him," she said putting her hand gently and warmly on his chest, begging him inside to play along.

Chelsea looked between Lyn and Simon and Paul. She knew it was just a ploy but she also hoped that the new guy would know enough to play along as well. At the near death glare that Simon seemed to momentarily give Paul, though, she knew that it would have to be really convincing.

[Juicesir]

And then time stopped.



Whiteness. And endless, all encompassing whiteness with no edges and no discernible border. At opposite ends of a long, oaken table sat two men. The first was Paul. Handsome, diamond-suited Paul, with all of his scars and various deformities glaring behind the calm veneer of a high end tailored suit. The second was Gabriel, his pristine skin and smile looking utterly out of place from his ragged clothes and unkempt appearance. It was as if the two men had woken up and accidentally grabbed something out of the others wardrobe.

Gabriel sat with a dirty sneaker nearly falling off of his foot, tapping it in mid air. Paul looked awkward, back straight, hands gripping the sides of the cushioned chair he was seated upon. A silence ensued.

"We should kiss her." Paul leaned forward as he blurted it out, looking Gabriel hard in the eyes. Gabriel's gaze, having previously been distracted, slowly leveled itself to meet Paul's. Paul shirked at the sudden intensity, and quickly looked awkwardly away, hands still clenching the side of the chair.

"No," answered Gabriel, "you need to calm the fuck down. This isn't that big of a deal.

"We should." Paul was pressing it.

"Oh yeah," Gabriel said, cavalierly, "it's a great fuckin' idea. Go ahead," he flipped his hand, his gaze distracted by nothing once more, "assault her face with your gross lips right when she's looking to you to make this all better for her. As if one guy getting up on her solves the other guy wanting to get up on her."

"Hey," Paul said sheepishly, "I didn't mean it like that."

"No I'm sure you didn't," said Gabriel, still not looking Paul's way, "and I'm sure she'll just run into our arms right then and there, ask to be whisked away from all this, and never freakout when we tell her who we actually are."

Paul's posture fell, hands slumping off of the edge of the chair. He threw his head back in indignation. "Look, she's basically said it's fine."

"Has she?" Gabriel shot a look straight at Paul, who quivered.

"I mean," Paul carried on, more hesitant now, "she said she we were her boyfriend, and it's like-"

"Yeah, she said that cus Arnold the Asshole over there is looking to basically go neanderthal, bash her over the head, and drag her back to his cave." Gabriel twirled his dirty fingers, "I wonder how many chicks he's roofied."

"Dude," Paul pleaded, "this is serious. We have to make a move."

"Well," Gabriel said, "it can't be so stereotypical as the kiss at the party night. That's bogus, amateur hour."

"Then what?" Paul said, throwing his hands up in exasperation.

Checking the torn and stained shirt he was wearing, Gabriel answered calmly, "We play it cool. We play it confidant. And we make sure this guy knows there isn't room for negotiation. This requires," he smiled, "an executive touch."


"Listen, friend," Gabriel began, smooth as a cucumber while sliding his arm around Lyn, "I wouldn't really feel comfortable with that. No offense, you know?" He shrugged nonchalantly. "I mean, you know how it is, good lookin' guy like you. Right?" He tossed his left hand, the one not hugging Lyn close to him, palm side up, "And you know, Lyn and I haven't been out that often. It's our night. So, again, no offense, uh..." he trailed off, allowing the man to fill it in with his name.

[Natora]

If Lyn hadn't already been looking at Paul, she would have blown it. The surprise in her eyes that showed when her normally more 'timid until directly threatened' Paul became very suave in a matter of moments. He didn't miss a beat! Her eyes widened in surprise momentarily but Simon was too preoccupied to notice. As he slid his arm around her, she felt herself leaning into him a little more too. He was very warm and she liked it very much.

Simon was looking at the man in almost disgust. Not only was he not very good looking but he was also trying to be a gentleman to boot. What a pathetic little twerp. "Simon," he filled in, taking his cue well enough. "What harm could one little dance do?" he asked challengingly.

[Juicesir]

"Simon," he nodded his head, utterly taken in with the bravado he was now displaying, "and I dunno about harm, but Lyn said she would rather dance with me." With that, he pulled her lightly to one side, and gave her a little push to his left. the idea was for her to twirl gracefully towards the dancefloor and catch her outstretched hand, just like in the movies. Whether that maneuver could actually be pulled off in real life was quite another matter.

[Natora]

Lyn did just as he intended her body to do, just not as gracefully. She looked half awkward but it was still much more graceful than it had been before. "I'm better at dancing when I dance with you," she said complimentary, much appreciating wherever this bravado and confidence came from. "Let's go," she said with a smile. "Come on, Chels," she said trying to get away from Simon as quickly as they could.

Chelsea was right behind her. "Let's go. I like this song," she said. With that, she pulled Lyn who pulled Paul onto the dance floor. Once they were in the middle of a bunch of dancers, Lyn danced close to him. There was something in her eyes that was screaming how sexy she found him right then. There was something wonderful and amazing about it.

[Juicesir]

As Paul... Gabriel... whoever... was pulled onto the dance floor by Lyn, he called back over his shoulder to Simon. "Maybe take some lessons!" Pouring salt in the wound. Mentally, he gave himself a high five. He was riding high.

Charged music, an upbeat rhythm. Lyn was dancing close to him. He could see her eyes looking at him. He'd never really noticed, but they were very pretty. Brown, like forest trees. They almost matched her hair, if it wasn't for the random little streaks of different color that now flashed with the DJ's light system. He liked her hair, and her eyes. And her hips. Boy she was moving.

Go for it. He decided to throw caution to the wind and place his hands on either side of her hips. She wasn't overly curvy, really, except in the hips. He kept looking at her, smiling. As the mucis played, he forgot about Simon and corporations and killers and craziness. He forgot about Gabriel and Paul and everything else. He was with her. And she was with him. In this simple moment, drowned in aural pleasures and pleasant closeness.

And so, he danced.

[Natora]

When Paul reached for her hips, a small and impressed smile went on her face. There was a man in her presence. He wasn't insecure and he wasn't an ass like Gabriel and Simon were. There was nothing that she wanted more than just a good and kind man. She Paul was good and kind but tonight she had shown him that he could be a man and not one that hid behind a speaker.

Chelsea rolled her eyes and walked away, leaving them to dance while she went and found another dance partner. Lyn put her arms around Paul's neck and leaned in. "Thank you for doing that. He's been chasing me for years," she told him above the loud beats controlling their rhythm.

[Juicesir]

"Seems like a real quality guy. Did you guys date or something?" Her hands around his neck, the small rounded warmth of skin on skin. Her voice for his ears. No Chelsea in sight. He'd forgotten his heart could race to fast.

[Natora]

Lyn laughed at the thought of them dating. "I've never dated and never would date someone like that. Someone so full of themselves," she said with a laugh. "He's been stalking me since I got the job as Gabriel's assistant. He saw me in the elevator one day and hasn't let go of me since. He was just there as a consultant. Hasn't let me go since," she added to him. She looked at him in his eyes curiously. "Want to go for a midnight snack?" she asked with a small smile.

[Juicesir]

Never dated? Seriously? Inconceivable. Although, come to think of it, he did sort of recall her maybe mentioning something along those lines once. It just was hard to accept. Sure, she wasn't like a fashion model or anything, but to have never dated anyone? It was a bit unusual for someone, especially in their mid-twenties, to have never done anything with anyone.

"Sure thing, let's go!" He made a mental note to ask her more about her relationship stuff, and also to look up this Simon. If he had been a consultant at one point, there'd be records. The two left the hubbub and mash of bodies and music that had so entranced them moments ago, but somehow it still all felt fine.

Maybe because it was what they wanted. Doing your own thing in a crowd had that liberating and also intimate effect. Surrounded by people, off in your own little world. He suddenly wished they were in the mountains, on the grass, with the night stars above them.

But a snack would suffice as well.

[Natora]

As they got out into the fresh night air in the middle of town, Lyn sighed relieved. No more crowds and people pushing into her. It was a relief to say the least. Then she remembered something. "Oh wait. I should bring Chelsea. Please? I'll be right back," she insisted. Without waiting for an answer, she quickly dipped back inside the bar.

That was when Simon showed his face to Paul/Gabriel. "So, you're her new man?" he asked, scoffing a bit. "Look, buddy. You're not really her type. Let her down easy when you do and we'll be fine. If you break her heart...well then, then we have a problem," he threatened Paul/Gabriel.

Lyn went inside and found Chelsea in the throng, telling her of their plan. She immediately agreed to join them and the two started wandering back to the entrance.

[Juicesir]

"If you keep stalking her, then we have a problem." He looked straight into Simon's eyes when he said it.

He was riding the wave of feeling powerful, enjoying for once feeling on top of the world again. "And no offense, but I think Lyn's more than capable of deciding what her type is without your help. I mean," he chuckled a little bit, "she's obviously narrowed down her choices a little bit, seeing as she never decided to be with you." If this chump was going to threaten him, then he wasn't going to back down. He hated assholes like this, guys who tried to control other women and assumed that they knew what was best.

[Natora]

Simon's expression turned to one of anger and annoyance. "You think you are though, huh? A scrawny old twerp like you? Just remember. When she dumps you, I'll still be around to pick up the pieces. That's all that matters," he said simply and looked back just as Lyn and Chelsea walked out. "Watch your back," he said simply before walking away.

Lyn walked up quickly after the bastard walked away. "Everything okay?" she asked worriedly. She knew how annoying Simon could be. She had also seen what Paul could do. The two colliding could be a very deadly game.

[Juicesir]

All through Simon's threats, he just smirked. Self-assured. This guy was scum, thinking he could ever manipulate a girl like Lyn...

...the way he had sort of, kind of, somewhat manipulated Chelsea. And even Lyn. Oh god, where the hell had this conscience of his come from? What was with all the friggin guilt these days?

Lyn was here. "Yeah, it's alright, we were just talking." He hooked her arm with his, the night buzzing with that great, dirty vibrancy New York City always had. "So," his voiced pitched downwards on the word in excitement, trying to change the gears of speech to something lighter, "where are we off to? Where do you wanna eat?"

[Natora]

Chelsea smiled as he mentioned something to eat. "Well there's always the menchies just down the road," she suggested easily. "It's really delicious. And you ditched me the day that I wanted to introduce it to you," she said to him. "At least now you don't have a boss. Just a big brother," she said with a small smirk.

Lyn rolled her eyes. "Menchies is a great idea," she agreed, trying to get over the fact that Chelsea didn't like her new friend. "Been there before?" she asked Paul with a small smile as she linked her other arm through Chelsea's to keep them all together. "I feel like the Wizard of Oz now," she pointed out with a small laugh.

[Juicesir]

God damn it. Trading one pissed off stalker for one third wheeling ex bang of his wasn't exactly how he had wanted this night to go. Then again, he didn't really know how he had wanted it to go in the first place. It was just one of those situations where you wished something different was happening.

Menchies. Blech. Froyo. So hip. At least it wasn't the Sweet Frog place. Mixing religion with business was never profitable in the long term, his father had taught him that. But Menchies. "Yeah, I've been there once or twice." He smiled and shrugged it off.

The three of them, nearly skipping down the sidewalk and costumed as they were, probably looked outrageous. But then again, this was New York City, and Halloween at that. Not too out of the norm. Besides, he was having dessert with Dorothy. That was win.

"If this is the Wizard of Oz," he began musing, "do you think I'm the Cowardly Lion or Toto?" He was mocking his beastly appearance, and laughed a little in spite of himself.

[Natora]

Lyn laughed gently when he asked which character he identified with. "The great and powerful Oz, of course. Because you see," she started as the Menchies came into view, "you're such a wonderful man that you're going to make the wishes of two young ladies come true tonight. We wish to get Menchies. See how that works?" She laughed gently before unlinking their arms and running forward with Chelsea before he could deny her anything.

The girls went into the store and looked around, trying to choose everything they wanted without leaving out something important like candy or chocolate. It was a place that Chelsea loved to go. It could always be reasonably healthy if you wanted it to be or it could be the most unhealthy frozen yogurt trip ever. It depended on what you wanted that day.

[Juicesir]

A shake of the head, and a light jog to catch up. That's all his reaction was to that. It's all that could be said in the face of her exuberance.

Entering the Menchies himself, he already spotted the girls trying to strike the gentle balance between healthy and indulgent. So silly. He didn't even know why they bothered. This shit was about as 'healthy' as a Dr. Oz recommendation. He chuckled at the thought of that TV quack dressed in ruby slippers. He went immediately for the toasty marshmellows and decided right then and there he was going to make himself some s'more yogurt. Topping with crushed graham crackers, a couple different kinds of chocolate, and some whipped cream, he put a cherry on top to be fancy.

Taking his treat over to the not quite so pimply teen working the register, he placed his order on the little weigher they had. Weigher? Scales? What was this called, he couldn't remember the word. "Sir."

"Oh, right." He looked at the amount and nodded. "Actually," he motioned to the other two girls, who were still chatting and placing toppings on theirs, "I'm paying for them as well."

The teen shrugged, obviously nonplussed by his gallantry. But what did he know. He was working in the service industry.

[Natora]

Lyn looked over as she heard Paul's voice at the register. She quickly sucked off some whipped cream that had gotten on her knuckle and pulled Chelsea over as well and the girls added theirs to the scale. "Thank you," Lyn said gently, a huge smile on her face and a gentle hand on his arm.

Chelsea even chimed in with a kind and soft, "Thank you," as well though hers was a little more hesitant. It was obvious that she wasn't quite comfortable with her new found knowledge of his appearance just yet.

Once everything was paid for, Lyn took her frozen yogurt creation and linked her arm through his and led them all to a table that they could sit at. "So what has work been like?" Lyn asked Chelsea.

That was enough welcome for Chelsea. She spun off into a detailed conversation about who was doing what, who had been promoted and fired, what kind of projects she had been working on recently and everything else. At the end she looked to Paul. "So... Where have you worked?" she asked him curiously.

[Juicesir]

"Well..." Gabriel took a moment to think about it. The best lies, after all, were crafted from some element of truth. "...truth be told, I've never really worked."

He waited for the shock of that to sink in. "What, what do you mean?" Chelsea looked more suspicious than ever now.

"Well, my parents were both very wealthy, and due to my... condition, most of the first part of my life was spent in and out of hospitals. I've looked worse." A thin smile, the sort of things patients wear in hospital intensive care wards. "I did manage to sort of get schooling and the like. Attended college. But once both my parents passed... I dunno, I got in a bad way." Gabriel imagined the false life's tale he was weaving. The parents who wanted to give their son a good life, the boy who just wanted to live a little. "And, one thing led to another, and I found myself on the streets. In and out of shelters. Which," he suddenly realized he hadn't brought Lyn up to speed on the lie, "is, again, where Lyn and I met."

He gave her a nice look, but also a secretly pleading one. Please go along with this. "She really saved me."

[Natora]

Lyn hadn't been perfectly prepared for what he wanted to tell people about where they met but nodded her agreement anyways. The reality was much more confusing. "I wasn't the only one who did some saving," she said gently and smiled affectionately at Paul. He didn't seem as confidant as he had been moments ago but who was when they were talking about their parents who had passed away?

After a few more bites, letting everything sink in, she looked back up at Chelsea as she piped up. "So when do I get to see you again?" she asked almost sadly. "The next holiday?" she asked hopefully.

Lyn smiled a little bit and shook her head. "If I can, I should probably visit the family before Christmas. I haven't seen them since last Christmas," she said with a small laugh. "I promise I will try to make sure we see each other again soon," she said just as sadly.

[Juicesir]

"I mean," Gabriel started, and then held his tongue for a moment. He needed to phrase this carefully without coming off sounding like an asshole. With that simple beat, he was able to gather his words. "This was really nice." He looked around the Menchies. He could probably buy this place. He could probably buy this place, change all of the staff, and then replace them all with five star chefs. He could probably demolish this place and sell the land. This place was beneath him.

But they did have tasty yogurt. He gave a lopsided grin to Chelsea. "I dunno, it's up to Lyn though." This was crazy. The last time they'd been out they were nearly killed. This time, they were just having all sorts of romping hilarity to enjoy. Such a flip from last time. He wanted to leave it up to Lyn's discretion though. See how it all went.

[Natora]

Lyn looked between Paul and Chelsea. Before it had been easy. He was keeping her away from the city so she would be safe. He was locking her up and she was able to blame him if she didn't want to blame herself. Now he had given her the power. She had the choice to decide whether or not she thought her life was in danger on a certain week or not. She knew that playing the victim was wrong...but it was so easy.

With a small smile, she looked back to Chelsea. "We will see. I will keep you up to date, I promise and when I come back into town for any reason I will let you know and we can at least have coffee," she informed her friend. It was the best solution she could come up with for now. When she finished her yogurt she looked over to Paul. "I'm ready to go if you are," she told him gently. Being out in the open again was making her nervous.

[Juicesir]

Gabriel nodded. He understood what she meant. It was time for the evening to conclude. Together they stood, said their goodbyes to Chelsea, and threw away their frozen yogurts. As they exited the shop, he smiled to himself. For a night out on the town, this had been pretty awesome.




240

The autumn ground began bundling itself up, along with everything else, as October swiftly gave way to November. The wilderness seemed to blush around them as it disrobed its leaves, leaving the trees bare and shivering in the increasingly colder gales that swept across the lake. Blankets and cups of warm liquids were now the standard late night fare for folks wishing to watch the stars.

It had been three weeks since the Halloween party. Three weeks since their last outing. And now, it was the Friday before the week of Thanksgiving. Gabriel knew what this weekend meant, had always meant. An ache in his bones was itching to be scratched. And besides, it would give Lyn some practice. However, he needed to run it by her first.

He went through the house, not immediately finding her. "Lyn?" he called out. As big as the island mansion was, it somehow didn't feel extraordinary. They filled up the space of it just fine, and it never seemed creepy or drafty or lonely. Especially with her here.

[Natora]

Lyn poked her head out of the library when she heard him calling her. "Ya?" she called out, curious as to why he was calling her. She had been hoping they could go out for Thanksgiving but she wasn't sure that he would agree with the idea. Since they had come back from the night out at Hallowe'en, Paul had returned to his normal self, the confident and sexy man that had saved her from an asshole gone and let way to a kinder and more respectful version of the same person. It was a little disappointing but she would never say as much.

"What's up?" she asked, walking out so that she was standing in front of him, a soft smile on her face as she leaned against one of the walls. She had been working as hard as she always did but like every woman out there, when someone requested her time, she always had time for them.

[Juicesir]

"I was thinking," he began, "about doing a little crazy." It was out of season, and they wouldn't be going on a day that was necessarily legal. But the itch was there, and his own father had never cared. "I mean," he smiled, "Thanksgiving is right around the corner, and I figured we do need a turkey. Tell me," he said coyly, "you ever been on a turkey hunt?"

[Natora]

She smirked, hiding the laugh that wanted to escape. "Can't say that I have," she said to him. "Where exactly would one hunt a wild turkey?" she asked, thinking the idea did sound rather fun. This was something that sounded fun and exciting. She wasn't about to kill the mood but she had been hoping that she could go home for Thanksgiving. Maybe Christmas he wouldn't be so stingy. He had to have some sort of family, too! He didn't talk about family much after telling them his parents had passed away but there had to be someone. Someone that he was related to had to be out there somewhere and was missing him as much as her parents were missing Duchess. She didn't tell him but her mother and her emailed back and forth almost every day.

[Juicesir]

"Well," he began, "you might be surprised at this, but there's more to New York than just the Big Apple." He was excited now, mainly because she seemed open to it. His excitement, he hoped, had excited her, and now was exciting him again. Encouraging him. He felt at ease.

"There's this place," he said, now fondly recalling one of the few cherished childhood memories he had, "that my father used to take me to. Up near Lake Ontario, by the Canadian border. I was thinking we could go there today, or maybe tomorrow." He didn't quite know what she had planned, but he wanted to keep things open. Technically, it wasn't necessarily 100% legal to do what he was suggesting. Then again, that had never stopped his father from taking him for years to the same spot.

[Natora]

Lyn thought about it a moment and nodded. "I can finish what I was doing later. I was just getting ahead on things for next week so it's perfect timing," she agreed with a smile. Her heart was pounding. She wanted nothing more right now than to have the courage to ask him if they could spend Thanksgiving with her family. With nothing more, though, than the ability to nod, she turned. "Do we have to pack for an overnight trip or will we just be gone the day?" she asked curiously.

[Juicesir]

"Eh," he was mentally organizing what they needed, so he shrugged at her question, "overnight might be best, considering the drive." He didn't say it, but his heart raced at this prospect. Going out on a camping trip. With her. This was becoming something a bit more. It was crazy how she made him feel. He played it off. "If that's alright, I mean."

[Natora]

Lyn nodded. "Ya. That'd be good," she agreed. He was adorable like this, the second guessing, not always sure of himself version of Paul. She walked away, going to her room to pack an overnight bag. While she was packing, she thought about taking the laptop with her. There would be a lot of driving time and she would be able to get a few things done. But then again...what if she was able to convince Paul to take her to her home. It was kind of on the way, just a little bit gone. Then she would be able to see her family again which she hadn't been able to do for a long time.

When she was finished packing, she picked up her bag and went down to the front door. "I'm ready!" she called, not sure where Paul was in this overly large house.

[Juicesir]

He'd sauntered off to pack up. Funny thing, he had most of the gear. A couple small rifles, a couple small gauge shotguns, and a bow. Packing beyond that wasn't terribly hard, but he was missing some camo that would fit her. He packed his spare set. It might be a bit big. They could always pick some up on the way to the hunting ground.

Excitement filled him. This was really the first thing they were doing just on their own together. Living in the house was one thing, but it didn't really quite mesh yet. She was often reading in the library, or sending emails to her mom. He didn't pride himself on monitoring her online history, but he minimized his intrusion as much as possible. He just needed to check, just in case whoever had threatened her tried it again. It was for safety's purposes. Besides, remote monitoring her email wasn't that bad. It's not like he still had the cameras throughout the house online or anything.

"I'm ready!" She called it to the house at large. He came down the stairs, carrying two large bags.

"Alright, let's set off!" Carrying the luggage to the boat, they made their way to port. Whilst driving, he looked over to her. "Hey, so, the spare camo set I had probably is a little big on you, did you want to get your own or...?"

[Natora]

She got into the small boat with him, a smile plastered on her face. Getting off the island was an amazing feeling, the wind blowing her hair back even with the brisk wind of the fall time of the year. It was beautiful. When he asked about the camo gear, she laughed gently. "I'll be fine. We don't have to go spending money on something that might not be used very often. I'll just roll the sleeves and the legs up, tie the belt a little tighter and it will all be perfect," she said to him easily.

Once they were on the pier, she was near jumping for joy now that they were on dry land again and off to an adventure. Once they were in the truck and had been driving a bit, the thing that had been on her mind finally came up. "What would you say to going to my parents after we shot the turkey?" she asked nervously. She wasn't sure how he would react to the idea and they hadn't even gotten finished getting the turkey in the first place yet.

[Juicesir]

Turning his head to look at her for a moment, he took a moment to consider it. Nodding, he gave his answer. "Yeah, sure. That sounds good." He had thought that might be something she would ask, and to be honest he was fine with going there. "Would they be fine with us staying there for a couple days though?" Suddenly, the prospects of a anxiously and frustratedly somewhat semi-romantic camping trip with Lyn was going to be meeting and staying with her parents.


Oh yeah, I can just imagine it. "Hi, I'm Paul. I randomly saved your daughter from being murdered and now keep her captive on a little island in the middle of nowhere for her safety from those who are still trying to kill her. Oh, and I'm secretly her asshole boss who may or may not be developing feelings for her. Here's a turkey we shot."

Paul shook his head imperceptibly, looking back on the road. He just realized something about the truck. It was rather low on gas. "Hey, I'm gonna stop at the next gas station, need to fill up. Maybe you can get some snacks for us?" He began to awkwardly rummage for his wallet in his back pocket... and then realized that he needed to immediately stop.


I think there might be an old credit card in there, or even my old license.

He was sure he'd taken all of them out and put them in the safe. He tried to think back. Had he seen any of them back when they were in New York for Halloween? What had he payed with? Nervousness overtook him, as an old gas station approached down the road. He removed his hand, making no mention about it. He simply drove the truck up to the station next to a pump.

[Natora]

Him saying yes changed everything about Lyn. She was no longer worried and afraid that something might happen. Now she was excited and smiling so strongly that she might start emitting rainbows from her lips. Elation didn't begin to describe how she felt. It was incredible. "They won't mind. I promise," she said to him happily. Not able to contain herself, she clapped her hands and called, "YAY!" as they continued down the road.

When he mentioned stopping for gas and letting her grab snacks, she curiously wondered if he was letting her grab them because he wanted to be seen as little as possible. She didn't ask, though, knowing it would be rude. When he stopped going for his wallet, she looked at him curiously. "Forget your wallet?" she asked, reaching behind the seat to where she had put her purse. She started to take out her own card. It wasn't a big deal in her mind.

[Juicesir]

"No, no," he waved at her, pulling up to a pump, and opening the door, "just didn't want to distract myself while driving." A reasonable excuse. Pulling it fluidly from his pocket while turned, he quickly slipped out some cash, checking with a flash to see if anything incriminating was in there.

Nope. All clear.

He breathed a sigh of relief. No credit with his old name emblazoned upon it, no drivers license with his old face. Good. He turned, and smiled at her, handing her the cash. "Don't you worry." With that he turned back and pumped the gas.

[Natora]

With a small smirk and a shake of her head, she took his money and put her own away. "I don't understand how you manage to only look out for me and still make money," she said with a small smirk. He had never allowed her yet to put him on the pay roll and it made no sense to her. If he was going to be out and protecting her anyways, she might as well pay him what she would pay her security.

In any case, she jumped out her side of the truck and went inside to choose some snacks. Not wanting to be selfish, she chose two different bags of chips, BBQ and Dill Pickle, a few different candies and chocolate bars, and two bottles of water. You had to be somewhat healthy right? She paid for what she had and walked back out to the truck. "Ready to go?" she asked as she walked by him, pumping gas. She tossed him a bottle of water and gave him a generous smile as she climbed back into the truck.

[Juicesir]

"I got uh..." he had nothing for this. Nothing at all. So he just turned and started to pump. "I just have a lot of savings I came into."

Savings you came into? That didn't even make sense?

Oh well. He plugged in the false credit card info, and began filling up the trucks' tank. An RV pulled up at this time, and a family quickly spilled out from it. "Ed," a black haired, sort of weaselly looking kid hopped out of the RV. He threw his head back in a sigh.

"What?" He called back, exasperatedly.

"Pick up something for your mom, she's got a headache." It was a man's voice, manner of speech well to do. It was the affect of his commanding tone that told Gabriel without seeing.

"I know." Ed walked towards the gas station as Lyn was just coming out.

"Ready to go?" She seemed so cheery. It'd been him saying they could go to her parents, that's when her mood hit an upswing. And to be honest, he liked that. He didn't necessarily like family, casting an eye at the RV, but he liked that she did.

"Yeah, one sec." Finishing up with the pump, he got back into the truck. He pondered the bags of chips. "Dill eh?" He didn't know why he said it. He didn't really know why it needed mentioning, but he mentioned it. He didn't know why he'd noticed the RV, or her mood, or the man's tone. He was on edge, he realized. No, not quite on edge. Alert. He was in Paul mode, full on. Ready to spring into action.

Turning the key and pulling back onto the freeway, they made some headway accompanied by some idle chatter. The drive would be long, they might get there just as the sun was going down he realized. He was thankful he'd packed the tent. A night out under the stars, turkey hunting tomorrow, and then Lyn's parents' house. Wherever that was. Speaking of which...

"Where is it your parents live?" It'd been a couple hours since the gas stop, and their conversation had been light. This fit the mood easily.

[Natora]

When Paul mentioned the savings, Duchess just assumed that it was meant by inheritance or something and decided to drop the subject. He didn't seem like he wanted to talk about it. The ret of the conversation for their drive was very light and quite enjoyable. Lyn was happy and when he mentioned her family, her smile only grew. The scenery around them faded away from view as she turned to concentrate on Paul alone as she talked very animatedly about her family.

"The family home is I Watertown. It's beautiful. Really. The town is so nice. The people, so kind. We won't have to worry about the boneheads that you're trying to protect me from there. My mom, she's going to be so excited that we're coming over for dinner. She is the most classic stay at home mom ever. She's started working at a bookstore lately now that all the kids are gone so she can keep herself busy. My dad is a firefighter, has been ever since he dreamed of being one when he was little. He's actually now the fire chief. And my younger brother is a banker in town and my older sister is a fourth grade teacher," she said, explaining a little about her family so that he wouldn't have to go in blind.

As they continued their drive, she added in a few stories here and there about her family and their adventures together. "So what did you and your dad used to do when you went and shot turkeys?" she asked him curiously.

[Juicesir]

To see her talk so animated, so passionately, made him at ease. It was a nice time they were having. Though, with how highly she spoke of her family, he did wonder what had driven her from the shores of the Great Lakes all the way down to the city. Gabriel had never smelled ambition in her words. She wasn't the sort that had that kind of manic ring to her actions and desires.

He laughed, and a new Gabriel began talking. Not the smooth-talking CEO, not the spoiled rich college party boy. The kid. Child Gabriel, recalling his fonder years. As the evergreens turned to golden leafed deciduous, he began.

"Well, we used to make an event out of it. Back when I was really young, it would be this week long thing. We'd get our gear, practice a few times beforehand, and then go out camping the three days prior to Thanksgiving. I use to pretend that we were cavemen hunting wild things." He chuckled. "It was stupid, I mean, cavemen don't have guns. But it was where we camped. We tried to find unique places to do so, I guess in hindsight because we technically weren't supposed to be hunting at that time of year. But we never cared..."

He focused in on the road. "He taught me how to call them. That's an important part. Turkey hunting isn't so much about stalking prey as just getting the things to come up to you. It's a lot simpler than you might think. I'd chase them sometimes. Sometimes he would too." A vision of a boy and his father, far removed from skyscrapers and cars, warbling after confused turkeys, pummeling one another to the ground on a bed of leaves.

"...anyways, after we'd get our turkey, and it had to be the biggest one mind you. Nothing less. That was what the three days were for. Find the biggest turkey. Well, once we did, we'd get it all taken care of, and then drive back home. We'd walk into our house, pretending to be these big hunters. Proud warriors, all that crap. Mom would smile. We'd have a big breakfast, and spend the day preparing the turkey. And then," he was sad by now, the nostalgia too much, "Thanksgiving."

He didn't choke or cry, but he could feel himself verging on doing so. "That was a long time ago, though." He finished, and continued driving in silence for a bit.

[Natora]

Duchess stayed quiet as she let him tell her the story of his childhood. She could feel the emotion that he was trying to hold back. He was always trying to hold emotions back and seem like the strong silent type. She wouldn't and couldn't deny that he was. It was just a little different when he spoke about being a kid now. She reached over when he finished his story and put a gentle hand on his shoulder and gave a reassuring squeeze. "I'm sorry you lost your parents," she said to him gently.

As they continued to drive, Duchess tried to think of how things might be different if his parents were still around. She knew that her life would be incredibly different if she hadn't had her parents to lead the way. They were always the ones that wanted her to be more then they had ever had. They pushed her through all the rough times, leading her out and into the light.

They got deeper and deeper into the woods until they were in the middle of nothing but a tiny path barely wide enough for a vehicle to go one way. Turning around would certainly be interesting here. "So where do we camp?" she asked him curiously. "Just in the middle of all this?"

[Juicesir]

"Yup!" He gave a confidant grin, and motioned with a hand outwards. "Just in the middle of all this." They were close enough off to where he remembered he and his dad hunting that this should be good territory, and off the beaten path enough so that they wouldn't run into anyone. Probably. Rangers were loathe to patrol this area particularly well.

"First thing we gotta do, though, is to find a good patch. Place to set up camp. What do you think?" Truck grinding over the wilderness below them, he could almost taste the mossy air through the vents of the truck. It was comforting, like a dream you dreamed again. "I always got to pick the spot, so I figure it's only right to let someone else have a turn."

There were little hillocks in the undergrowth, small clearings. A cave near one of the larger hills in the distance, identified by its black scar on the terrain. They weren't that far away from Lake Ontario, either. She had the proverbial pick of the woods.

[Natora]

Duchess looked around her, amazed that they were actually going to do this. She had been camping before, of course, but the camping she was used to involved the beach and gorgeous sun. The crisp air that was kept out by the truck wasn't her ideal camping place. It would be a good new experience, she was sure. "Why don't we take a clearing? That way if we have a small fire it won't catch anything and we don't run the risk of getting eaten by bats as we might if we stayed in a cave," she said, only half joking about the bats.

She had always loved the smell of the outdoors when it wasn't surrounded by city smoke and smog. This was the way to enjoy mother nature at her finest, but she hadn't ever been hunting before. This would certainly be interesting. As nervous as she was getting the deeper they went into the woods, the more excited she was getting as well. Here they were, catching a turkey so that she could show up and surprise her parents for the first thanksgiving she would spend with them in three years. It was an amazing day!!

[Juicesir]

"Good thinking!" It was a short while after that that they found a suitable spot. A nice little clearing with very little underbrush. Pulling the truck over, he had done a brief inspection of it all. No trash was a good sign. It meant an increased likelihood no one had ever camped here before. Their minds made, he began to set about putting up camp.

The tent was large, but he'd brought two. He didn't want to presume anything. It took a little time to set up, but not as much as he remembered. Surprisingly, he recalled most of the necessary steps and just sort of mirrored the memory of his father.

His father...


"Now Junior," Gabriel the elder turned to look at his son, "we aren't supposed to be out here." He had just finished showing Gabe how to set up the campsite. Their tent was sturdy, and they were about to begin on the fire. His father looked at him, stern mustache affixed to his equally stern look.

"I know, father." Gabe nodded.

"Good," he father turned back to fix a pole that was out of alignment, "and what are we to do if we ever get separated?"

Gabe began reciting, standing somewhat at attention. "Find a warm dry place not far from where I was, make it look like I was there, and do not eat anything until I am found."

"That's... good, but I meant more about what you should do if someone else finds you." His father was still distracted.

Gabe rolled his eyes. "Tell them I got lost playing, don't tell them our name or why we're here," he listed off, "and be a kind guest." The last he tacked on of his own accord, smirking. It was something his mother had always said. His father turned, and gave him sort of a sour look, but beneath that bushy mustache could be seen the smirk that Gabe himself would give as he grew older. The two laughed.

"Alright! All set up. You get the bigger one."

[Natora]

While Paul was setting up the tents, Duchess took it upon herself to go around and try to find a few sticks to light a fire. Dinner was inevitable and so was night time. They would have to stay warm somehow. As soon as she disappeared into the trees surrounding the clearing, she felt she could finally relax. This was what she loved; being in nature and having to worries or concerns. This was what she used to do when she was younger with her family. They would walk through hiking trails together a few weekends of the year. It was always a fun time.

As she continued through the bush, feeling the crunch of the leaves beneath her worn boots, she picked up quite a few sticks and a rather small log that she would be able to carry back to where they were setting up camp. After she was sure she had given Paul enough time to set up the tents, she started wandering back towards where they were.

She walked through the trees just as he finished setting up the tents. "Why two?" she asked as she dragged the small log over with her hands full of a bundle of twigs. "And why would I get the bigger one? You're taller. Shouldn't you have it?" she asked, a small smirk mixed in to her curious look that was playing its role.

[Juicesir]

He shrugged. "Well I don't very well have the brick and mortar to make a castle for you, so the tent will have to do." It may have been the cheesiest thing he had ever said in his life. But for some reason, it felt fine leaving his mouth. "Besides, thought you might want a little privacy."

[Natora]

Lyn laughed and shook her head. As she came to the center of the camp site they had created, she dropped the sticks and log so that they could make their own little camp fire. She walked over to where Paul was and said, "I haven't been concerned for my privacy in quite a few months. Take the big tent down. We can share the small one and keep ourselves warmer just because there won't be so much air around us," she insisted. "What is there to make for dinner over a camp fire?" she asked as she walked back to the truck and looked into the cooler.

[Juicesir]

He shrugged. "Alright." HE wasn't about to be the one to press the point. As he began taking down the tent - which in hind sight now just seemed overly silly that he had even put it up in the first place - Lyn asked what was in the cooler.

"Well, there's a couple kabobs in there. Should've thawed out by now." The large tent collapsed with a "whump" and the air sent a rush of shivers up his legs. It was a bit nippier than he had first imagined it to be. "I think I got some fruit in there too. I dunno if you've ever roasted bananas before, but I think I've got some sugar somewhere in the truck's cab we could glaze them with."

He began picking up the tent poles and dragging them from out of the canvas of the tent, folding them and collapsing them. "I don't think the jerky would be very good..." He was just talking to himself now, but it felt nice. Little scenes like this were something he'd forgotten he'd missed so much. He'd spent so much time in his past life hunting for the rush, working for the payday, and trying to be impressive. It was nice to just sort of get away from himself and have a nice evening. An easy evening.

[Natora]

As she started searching through the cab, she listened to what he was saying and suggesting for dinner. Kabobs! Those would be perfect on top of the campfire. She Started digging around and found them pretty easily. Fruit would be for dessert and the rest would serve them for the rest of the trip. "Kabobs and fruit for dessert," she agreed. She wrapped the kabobs in aluminum and then took them over to where she was intending to set up a fire.

Then she realized something. "How do we do fires safely in the middle of the woods?" she asked. "Dig a pit with our hands?" She hadn't done this in the middle of no where stuff before and she wasn't entirely sure how to go about things. He had done this before. He would know.

The normal demands on her time from work didn't even cross her mind. She had always been very good at compartmentalizing and knowing the difference between work time and play time. Every now and again she heard a ghost ring of her phone but she ignored it. Right now was time for her to relax and simply enjoy the time that she had without work.

[Juicesir]

"Hands?" He laughed a bit, moving some brush and twigs from out of the area surrounding their soon to be campfire area. "No no, I've got a spade in back, but first we gotta clear the area bit." He did this by essentially kicking about the objects that needed to not be near their area. On occasion, he also gathered up some of the larger rocks and brought them into a circle around the pit.

As the area took a more agreeable form to that of an appropriate campfire, he noticed himself being in quite a jollier mood. "You're not gonna get that?" He teased, making mention of the occasional vibrations and rings that would emanate from her pocket. Grabbing the spade, he went to work on the pit finally. It shouldn't need to be too deep. The wood in this area also didn't look soaked, so that should be good.

[Natora]

Lyn laughed when he mentioned the phone. Easily, she took the phone and threw it into the cab of the truck, ignoring it completely. "Why would I need to answer it on vacation?" she asked him with a small smirk. Ever since Hallowe'en she had been watching him and how he acted more carefully. Did he really want to have a relationship with her? He hadn't acted towards her since but he had been so willing to be protective that one night. It was so strange.

"You should hurry up with that fire. It's getting cold," she teased gently. Maybe over this weekend they could figure this out.

[Juicesir]

He smiled. The hole was deep enough. So he packed on wood, quickly. But not too quickly. And by the time he was done, it hadn't been so long. The stars were just now peeking around the edge of the pines as the fire cackled with the tinder beneath the logs.

He took a seat, and patted down next to him on his left side. Still beaming, he gave jerk of his head to where she should sit. It was that perfect time of the evening where the sun's footprints hadn't yet been washed away by the moon and her nightly tide. The November air was ripe with coolness, and the breath of it felt refreshing to inhale.

[Natora]

Duchess smiled as she heard the fire start going. She had been putting things together in the tent, setting up sleeping bags and making sure she had enough layers on that she would stay warm for the night outside. She walked out, content to be under the stars and in the night sky. It was a beautiful night and they were lucky to be able to be out in it.

As the briskness cooled her face, she was glad for the rest of her layers. She smiled softly when she saw that he wanted her to come sit with him. Once she was comfortably seated next to him, taking in the smell of the fire and the beauty around them. "So you used to camp out here with your father?" she asked, putting her head on his shoulder as she looked up into the night sky.

[Juicesir]

He didn't answer her question. There was a moment where he heard it, and let it just sort of drift up with the crackling of the fire into the sky. It lasted for about the breaths; two slow inhales and exhales of the air around him. A sort of dizziness settled in, and without much more thought, he acted.

He turned his head, just so that he could see her out of the corner of his right eye. And he smiled. With a hand placed upon her right cheek, he brought her face up on his shoulder to face his a little better.

It was done in a very careful, but very intended way. There could be no denying what he would do. He was beyond that, beyond trying to pretend. For years, she'd been nothing to him. Another face on the elevator, another employee at this father's company. If you asked him why he followed her, it would be doubtful that you could ever get a clear answer. But he had. And she was here now.

And so, he kissed her.

[Natora]

Lyn felt him moving underneath her and looked at him curiously when he didn't answer her but instead raised her head. As he got closer to her, it was quite obvious what was going to happen. Her heart started beating faster the closer he came and everything around her went quiet. Her mind finally empty, the silence except for the crackling of the fire, and she let him take over.

And she kissed him back.

It was rougher than she thought, not that he was being rough but his lips seemed almost dry. Her heart felt like it was in her throat as she returned his kiss. She had been waiting for this since Hallowe'en and nothing had happened between them...until now. The kiss lasted a fair time before she pulled gently and slowly away and looked up into his eyes, a small but happy smile on her lips. What a beautiful and confusing man.